They stole my story!!!

The Insecure Writer’s Support Group

http://www.insecurewriterssupportgroup.com

There you are. It’s a rainy evening and you’ve written over one thousand words in the current work-in-progress. You’re winding it down for the day. A little surfing at your favorite online bookseller is in order. You can download a new book and tottle off to bed to do a little reading.

Not so fast. There is YOUR cover on someone else’s book! 

Okay, okay. You know everyone and their sister is buying cover stock from a very limited available pool of quality stock. You just have to grin and bear it and remember you bought that cover stock because the guy is pretty sexy. 

So you scroll a few more pages and then it happens. Holy crap! SOMEONE STOLE YOUR TITLE!!!  

Well, it’s not exactly your title. Your title’s The Alpha’s Broken Finger and this - this - this THIEF used The Alpha’s Broken Toe. And you can't copyright titles and names. But dammit! That’s awfully close. And both stories are about how his mate, be that mate male or female, saves him.  

What the heck is going on?? Is this something serious or did we simply inspire another writer? Haven't we all gotten inspiration from someone else somewhere along the line? Who hasn't read a story and been blown away by a particular turn of a phrase and then had it creep into our usage? 

Plagiarism is a risk we all take when we publish a book. While I wrote the above tongue-in-cheek, the theft of intellectual property is no laughing matter. The honest among us have all seen covers and stories so similar to our own that the hair on our arms raises in alarm, disgust and anger. It’s not a good feeling. So what do we do about it?

The serious among us view our work as both creation and business. There are steps we can take if we’ve been pirated (DMCA letters) or suspect plagiarism (an attorney versed in the applicable laws).  One of the sad truths about this business is it’s stacked against the author. We do the work of creation and everyone makes a profit on our backs.

I could let the ugliness of theft stop me from writing, but I won’t. I could put my money into lawyer fees (and if seriously pissed off I will). I submit DMCA letters albeit in a lazy fashion. For better or for worse I’ve accepted the risk because I believe Karma exists.

If we accuse another writer of plagiarism and it turns out to be a weird coincidence, we’ve gained an enemy, one unlikely to ever forget. And do we want to apply the stigma of plagiarism to someone else who may have simply had a similar idea? How would we feel if we were unjustly accused of such a thing?

I know that sooner or later savvy readers will catch on and avoid suspect “authors.” The problem of deliberate, premeditated theft is so pervasive that even with a hundred thousand keyboards raised against it, it’s not going to go away. And that’s not right and that’s not fair.

The best thing I can do is put my energy into writing the next story and not dwell on the inequities of this business. I could allow it to discourage me, but I won’t. I do what I do for the honest readers and there are enough of them left to keep me going. And that will just have to be good enough until karma kicks butt.

Rayne
rayneforrest.blogspot.com

(This is a modified version of a post that was written for another venue in 2015.)

Science fiction romance
Time travel romance

The Curiosity Shoppe by Rayne Forrest (MSS #125)

Welcome to another My Sexy Saturday! My Sexy Saturday is the weekly blog hop for some great excepts from all corners of the romance genre. This week - sexy shapeshifters.

When Zeb follows a telepathic call, he gets a lot more than he bargained for! Enjoy!
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Semele didn’t answer immediately. Her fingers traced the treasure trail of dark hair than ran down his center. She splayed her fingers, then closed them, trapping the curly hairs between. She lifted her hands allowing the short, springy hairs to escape.

Yes, Zebadiah. I like this.

He laughed wickedly. Her mental voice was a smug little purr. She ran her fingers through his chest hair once more. Her fingers slipped under his waistband, brushing the tip of his dick. His eyes wanted to cross.

Her eyes widened. She blinked several times, rapidly, and then swallowed.

“What’s wrong, Semele? Cat got your tongue?”

Zeb could almost hear her thinking about that. She met his gaze and ran one questing finger across his tip again. His cock pulsed, swelled. He’d only thought he was hard before. 
    I wish to see all of you. 

  ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
About THE CURIOSITY SHOPPE:

Cajun Zebadiah LaCroy is a long way from home. Infected with a bad case of wanderlust, Zeb’s been working on an intergalactic merchant ship. He’s seen all manner of strange worlds and stranger beings. When his ship docks at Station Janus, Zeb searches for a gift for his sister back home and finds more than he bargained for. Come and see, a female voice calls telepathically to him. Never one to be able to deny his innate curiosity, Zeb can’t resist. He’s caught in her spell.

When he finally sees her, hears her say his name, Zeb knows Semele is telling him the truth. They are bonding exclusively to each other. For the bonding to be complete, they must mate. The only thing is, she’s not quite human.

THE CURIOSITY SHOPPE is available at these online booksellers:
All Romance eBooks, Amazon, Barnes & Noble / NOOK Books, iTunes/Apple,
Kobo, OmniLit Books, Scribd.

Rayne Forrest

rayneforrest.blogspot.com

twitter.com/rayneforrest

Be sure to check out all the My Sexy Saturday blogs on the list below. 

Dragonflies

I've had several blogs over the years in several blogging platforms. Having reached a point where there were just too many old, broken links to update, a few years ago I started over here at Twenty-Six Keys. This left me with a multitude of old blogs about my life in the woods in the files. Some of them are as relevant now as they were then. Today I want to share with you one of those old blogs. - RF

Blog notes

August 6, 2005        

Dragonflies

Every year brings something different to my little fishpond. One year it was a large garden spider, resplendent in her black and yellow garb and skilled in her spinning. One year it was a tiny garter snake that, thankfully, didn’t stay around long enough for me to be forced to remove him by any means at my disposal. Many years it has been frogs. This year it has been dragonflies, or maybe the damselfly. I'll call them dragonflies because I like that better. 

I much prefer the dragonflies to everything else that has been attracted by the sound of trickling water. The spider was fascinating; seldom do you see such as her around here. But she was a spider, and we weren’t friendly. Same with the little snake. I was accepting only up to a point. I pay property tax and they don’t.

We installed the pond over a Memorial Day weekend. I got ten “feeder” goldfish to start the nitrogen cycle. The fellow at the pet store advised against the feeders, saying they would never live. Aye. Right. Like they would live long after he sold them to someone to feed their Caymans. At least in my pond they’d have a few good months before winter hit. Those ten “worthless” little goldfish are now eight years old, and even spawned their own addition to the ranks. They aren’t so little anymore, either.

The first spring, a frog came. I’ve long had toads and salamanders about the garden so what was another amphibian or two? Well, I quickly found out I like snakes better than frogs. Snakes are quiet. Snakes are clean. Frogs are not.

A happy frog with his own freshwater pond wants a girlfriend. How does he attract one? He sings. He sings loudly and all night long, night after night after night until he’s finally caught in a bucket and safely transported to the nearest creek. 

Maybe the lack of frogs is why the dragonflies arrived in such numbers this year. The first one appeared in early June, hovering on shiny blue wings to check out the place. It wasn’t long before a second one appeared. Then more. They move too fast in their intricate flights to count. The number present doesn’t really matter but there are a lot of them. One was joyful and many are delightful.

Dragonflies are quiet - seen and not heard. They are clean except for the occasional shed wing floating on the surface of the pond. This surprised me at first but I quickly learned they shed old wings as they grow. The dragonflies entertain with their aerial acrobatics. We sit on the patio and watch them instead of doing our chores. Yes, they are a good addition to my backyard. I hope they return for many years to come.

Rayne

http://www.rayneforrest.com

Skipping Heaven for My Sexy Saturday #MSS59

Welcome to my blog and today's My Sexy Saturday post from Skipping Heaven.

What if you were a ghost and you didn't know it yet? Would there be someone to guide you?
Would you skip heaven if you found your love along the way?

EXCERPT

What would he do if she went to the barn? What would he think of her? She must have lost her mind to be entertaining thoughts of sharing a bed with a stranger. Justine leaned against the doorframe, a small sob escaping her.

Her loneliness plucked at her, as did her uncertainty. If Daniel was not the one for her, why had he been sent here?

She straightened and squared her shoulders as she walked inside, her bare feet making no sound to disturb the softly chirping cricket that resided with her.

His horse was almost healed. Daniel would be leaving, maybe as soon as the morning. She couldn’t let him go, not without knowing him. She brushed out her hair and cast about for her old, worn slippers.

The sound of boot heels on the steps brought her up short. A soft tapping sounded on the door.

Daniel had come to her.

She opened the door.

SKIPPING HEAVEN is now available at Amazon. 

More about Skipping Heaven:

What if you were a ghost and didn’t know it?

Daniel Woods is passing through the timeless and mysterious Appalachian Mountains on his way to Kentucky and his inheritance. A misstep tumbles him and his horse down the side of a mountain. Battered and bruised, they come upon a small homestead and help in the form of the lovely Justine Noakes. Daniel finds himself inexplicably attracted to Justine - and determined not to embarrass himself by acting on impulse.

Justine recognizes the blue-eyed trouble that just led his horse into her settled world is something she never bargained for. Irresistibly drawn to him, Justine has a problem. She needs to come up with a way to get Daniel to stay in her mountain aerie. The only way that can happen is if Daniel accepts his new reality.

What Justine knows, and Daniel must discover, is that sometimes heaven is found in unexpected places.

= = = 

Be sure to visit all the My Sexy Saturday blogs for more great romance!

Skipping Heaven by Rayne Forrest

Looking back, it's been a long strange road to today. Never when I began writing eleven years ago did I envision a time I'd self-publish a book. But the world spins and publishing houses go bankrupt, disappear with a trace, or they are sold. Have your hard work (books) caught in several, shall we say "events," and suddenly self-publishing options are more viable.

I'm happy to announce that after being out of print for several years, SKIPPING HEAVEN is once more available.

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What if you were a ghost and didn’t know it?

Daniel Woods is passing through the timeless and mysterious Appalachian Mountains on his way to Kentucky and his inheritance. A misstep tumbles him and his horse down the side of a mountain. Battered and bruised, they come upon a small homestead and help in the form of the lovely Justine Noakes. Daniel finds himself inexplicably attracted to Justine - and determined not to embarrass himself by acting on impulse.

Justine recognizes the blue-eyed trouble that just led his horse into her settled world is something she never bargained for. Irresistibly drawn to him, Justine has a problem. She needs to come up with a way to get Daniel to stay in her mountain aerie. The only way that can happen is if Daniel accepts his new reality.

What Justine knows, and Daniel must discover, is that sometimes heaven is found in unexpected places.


EXCERPT

They reached the barn and she darted to the corral, slipping between the rails and clapping her hands. Lady trotted to her then followed her into the barn. The mare was steady and he had quickly had her harnessed to the little buckboard. Daniel placed his foot on the wagon step, preparing to swing up onto the seat when Justine placed her hand on his arm. He froze, looking down at her.

“Thank you again for doing this,” she said quietly, smiling.

Impulse seized him. He put his boot back on the ground and pulled her into his arms. He caught a quick glance at her eyes before her eyelids closed and she rose on her toes to meet him halfway.

He was not trespassing.

He meant the kiss to be gentle. He meant the kiss to be soft and tender.

He meant the kiss to be something to lure her closer to him and suddenly it didn’t need to be. Suddenly she was as eager for the kiss as he was.

Suddenly she was the one in control of everything but the kiss.

Daniel grabbed what little wits he had left and slanted his mouth across hers. Her trembling lips opened under his as her arms came up around his neck. He moved his lips on hers then swept his tongue over her lower lip, a slow, lazy stroke that made her hold him tighter. A small moan escaped her and it was all the encouragement he needed.

He backed her into Lady’s stall, pulling her down to the clean straw. She clung to him without protest. He rolled her beneath him, never taking his lips from hers, feasting on her as she feasted on him.

She moaned again when he flexed his hips to hers, digging her fingers into his shoulders. He flicked his tongue to hers and she responded in kind. The heat in his groin spread, coiling in his belly. His cock swelled, filling with unbridled anticipation.

He cupped her breast, feeling the hard peak of her nipple through the thin cotton of her shift and bodice. She arched up to him, pulling her mouth from his and sucking in a great lungful of air. He sobered immediately.

God, he couldn’t take her here in the straw, on the ground, in a livestock barn. She deserved clean sheets and a soft bed, a man fresh from his bath, not a restless night spent sweating in the grip of barely recalled dreams.

He rose up and blinked her into focus. She met his gaze without pretense.

“I don’t want you to stop.”

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Skipping Heaven is available at Amazon.com .

Rayne
http://www.rayneforrest.com