Across Time by Rayne Forrest for My Sexy Saturday

Welcome to Twenty-six Keys! The blog got a new look this week and I like it quite a bit. This week I'm jumping in on the My Sexy Saturday blog hop with Across Time. 

Across Time was the first book of mine that went "live" although it wasn't the first story I had contracted. The rights came back to me a while back and I revamped the manuscript to apply everything I've learned since Across Time was written. The result was well worth the effort. I love combining science fiction with romance. It's my favorite thing to write and I think it shows. 

Here are seven sexy paragraphs from Across Time. 

+ + + + +

The closures on her bra popped open, baring her breasts to him. He knelt above her, straddling her. His hands deftly opened his pants and his erection sprang free.

Corri reached to touch him, but he grabbed her hands and pinned them above her head. He lowered his weight fully onto her. Never taking his eyes from hers, he spread her knees with his. She couldn’t stop from arching up to him as his cock slipped across her slickness.

The teasing of his body was at odds with the bruising vise of his fingers around her wrists. She tried to pull away, and his grip tightened.

“Don’t ever say this is rape, Dunn.”

“I want you, Devin. Please.”

His gaze lowered to her mouth and then flicked back up, once more locking with hers. He slowly released her wrists and slid one hand beneath her head, cradling it from the hard ground.

“This is your last chance to say stop.”

+ + + + +

More about Across Time, available at Amber Quill Press:

Corri Dunn’s mission to distant Adhara VII begins on a downhill slide. Not only have her superiors withheld vital information, but Devin Tremaine knows what it is. Corri must face Devin, and what happened between them five years ago, or lose her command. Confronting the truth means facing the fact she still loves Devin. She wants him back in her life, and her bed, but she has to complete her assignment first.

Devin Tremaine made one big mistake in his life – he lost Corri Dunn when she needed his understanding and he couldn’t give it. Now they’re both at Adhara VII, caught in a web of deceit – and renewed passion. Corri’s been sent into a trap and he’s the only one who can save her.

The secrets of Adhara VII unlock their past, present and a future fast unraveling. To survive, Corri and Devin must make a leap of faith – across time.

Rayne Forrest

www.rayneforrest.com

Rayne's Ramblings - Writing is like Gardening

Having been at this business of blogging for many years, I have quite an archive of blog entries. Twenty-six Keys is simply the latest incarnation of the many blogs I've had over the years. It got to the point where it was easier to start fresh than go back and remove old, invalid links and outdated content. And so Twenty-six Keys was born. 

Since I do have all that old content, I'm going to recycle some of it. What follows is an entry originally posted on one of those now defunct blogs in July 2007. It may be eight years later but I find writing is still like gardening for me, and this old blog entry still applies. 

Rayne

http://www.rayneforrest.com

Writing is like gardening

I've been a lifelong gardener. I suppose it's in my blood, passed down from generations of women who knew long before the evening news told them so that houseplants keep indoor air fresher. One thing my mother and grandmother always had were flowers.

My mother used to collect cardboard milk cartons to trim and fill with potting soil. In these she started her seeds. Once the seeds sprouted she would turn the cartons every day so the tiny seedlings weren't forced to stretch one way or the other toward the sunlight.

Mom nurtured the plants until the first of May then the cartons were set in the garage to "harden" before being planted in the regular beds or pots after May 10th, which is historically the day the chance of a hard frost is over for our immediate area. By July my mother's yard was blooming and she was hard at work weeding and watering. With the arrival of October she was clearing the beds of frost damage and making mental notes for the following year and washing out new milk cartons to stack in the garage for next March's seed sowing.

Mom has scaled back some in recent years but she still maintains a flowerbed that stretches along her driveway. She's mostly content with a smaller area but sometimes we reminisce about her hundred foot long border along the edge of the backyard of the house I grew up in. Glory days. 

Writing, for me, is much like gardening. The seed of a story comes to me either from something I've already written or from whatever it is beyond myself that makes me want to create characters and stories. The seed sometimes quickly sprouts, sometimes lies dormant waiting for a different season. Once it begins to grow it needs attention, nourishment, and sometimes a lot of weeding. If I'm lucky it eventually matures and blooms into something I can be proud of, something well worth all the work.

RF

Old dog, new tricks

One of the scarier aspects of self-pubbing my old stories isn't whether or not they have any shelf life left. I have no control over whether or not anyone buys a copy and I'm actually content with that. The thing is I enjoyed creating them and there's no reason to hide them away on my computer. So what is the scary part? Creating a decent cover.

It's pretty proven wisdom the cover needs to catch a reader's eye. Okaaaaay. What catches a person's eye is a personal thing. Can we please everyone? Of course not. 

I'm learning how to make simple covers. So far I like the results. They've been very clean without a lot of frills but the more I learn about manipulating the software to match my vision, the more complex they'll become. 

I'm rather pleased to report the old gal (me) can still learn a new trick. 

Rayne
http://www.rayneforrest.com

Mischief at Midnight by Rayne Forrest

Welcome to Twenty-six Keys and the My Sexy Saturday blog hop for February 28, 2015. Like a lot of us, I'm wondering where the month went.

Today I'm celebrating a "new" release - Mischief at Midnight. Actually, this book is a re-release having been published as part of a two-author anthology at the old Whiskey Creek Publishing. Well, WCP sold out to Start Publishing (which kept the Whiskey Creek name) and a lot of rights reverted back to a lot of authors. Since my titles have had the benefit of being edited, I'm slowly self-publishing them. 

Mischief at Midnight is set in the near future when service drones are available to do housework and cooking. Put me on the waiting list!

Here are seven sexy paragraphs from Mischief at Midnight.

~~~~

Dallas stepped closer to her, breathing in her exotic scent. He gently plucked the diamond collar from her fingers and draped it around the graceful column of her neck. The stones were real, but they couldn’t match Madelyn’s inner beauty. Everything he’d ever learned about women told him she was a rare gem.And he was a drone, in her home for one purpose only—to serve dinner.

Like hell.

He fastened the clasp of the necklace and bent to her. His eyes closed as his lips caressed the soft skin of her shoulder, once, then again. Gentle kisses to lure her to a moment when he could confess his transgression and beg for her forgiveness. Madelyn inhaled sharply. To his utter amazement she tilted her head, inviting him to continue. Being ten kinds of a fool, he did, worshipping her with kisses.

She thought he was a personal pleasure drone and she clearly needed a moment of what those drones’ programming offered. How much more trouble could he be in if he gave it to her?

Dallas slipped his arms around her waist, splaying his hands across the gentle swell of her belly to pull her back against him. His manhood responded, surging strongly, swelling in quick wonderful jolts that echoed his racing pulse. His lips teased at her earlobe on their way to shower small kisses along her jaw.

She moaned, a low, dark sound of a woman caught unsuspecting by her own desire. Dallas bent her forward, his erection nestling between her buttocks. She boldly pressed her rump firmly to him, wiggling her hips. Her hand snaked between them, her questing fingers gauging his length and girth. Gooseflesh shivered across his belly and chest. His balls drew up close to his body. His penis throbbed with unwarranted anticipation and he reminded himself firmly that this momentary indulgence would not continue after the dinner.

“Oh, my,” she whispered breathlessly. “You really do have a few upgrades.”

~~~~~

More about Mischief at Midnight, available now at Amazon:

Madelyn Murphy isn’t your typical spoiled rich girl. She only has one household drone, after all. Why? Because she’s so liberal, she does her own cooking.

Triple D Drones’ owner, Dallas Dyson, has made a fortune in the service drone industry. He’ll even lend a helping hand himself if someone’s in a pinch.

When Madelyn’s service drone breaks just before a dinner party, she calls Triple D Drones for help. When the new “Dallas” prototype shows up to lend a hand, Madelyn finds she needs help with more than serving dinner. Isn’t service what a Triple D drone does best?

Rayne Forrest
http://www.rayneforrest.com

Never say never

Rayne's Ramblings for Wednesday, February 25, 2015

Way back in the day, say in 2002, an aspiring author was given some words of wisdom by those considered to be "in the know." What was that wisdom, you ask? 

Stick with the traditional New York publishers and never, ever, never self-publish a book. 

Oh, how the world did turn! These days it's odd to find an author without a digital title. Even Clive Cussler is available via Kindle. The stigma of epublishing is gone and now the once equally firm edict to never self publish has fallen to the wayside. 

Do I think epublishing is for everyone? YES!! I'm proud to be one of the early epublished authors. I've met some wonderful people over the years. It's been, to sum it up in a word, interesting. I wouldn't change a thing.

Do I think self-publishing is for everyone? NO! While it's true I'm in the process of self-publishing my backlist, these books have had the benefit of an editor. More importantly, the author has had the benefit of working with editors for over ten years. Going back over the older books and applying everything I've learned has proven to be a positive experience. 

So here I am, knowing the value of a good editor and having once said I'd never self-publish. I'm self-publishing. So far it's not been quite as hard as I thought it would be. And the next time I begin a sentence with, "I'll never....."? I think I'll stop and reconsider my words.

Rayne
http://www.rayneforrest.com

A Hero's Bargain by Rayne Forrest

Welcome to Twenty-Six Keys, the My Sexy Saturday Blog Hop, and the announcement of the re-release of A Hero's Bargain! 

When Ryder crash lands on an alien world, Saba saves his life - for a price. To save her people, Saba needs him to kill the deadly errol, and the only coin she has to offer him is her body. 

Here are seven sexy paragraphs from A Hero's Bargain.

^_^_^_^_^_^

“You will heal but it will take time,” Saba told him with far more calm than she felt.

Ryder hissed, pressing his hands to his stomach. Alarmed, she jumped up. Quick as a snake, he had her again, one hand fisting in her hair, trapping her.

“Heal me, then.”

His mouth came down on hers with bruising force. She pushed against him but he was too strong. His tongue swept over her lips and suddenly, escaping him wasn’t important. Deep in her belly her womb contracted. Need, hot and sweet, throbbed with each beat of her racing heart.

His kiss gentled, coaxing her now with a soft plea to answer him. Her arms slid around his neck. Her lips opened. There was a low rumble in his chest as his arms tightened around her. Awareness of her surroundings faded. All she knew was his lips moving on hers and his warm hand slowly caressing her back. She was caught in the spell he wove, floating in some dark place where her body spoke to her of aching loneliness and whispered its hope of fulfillment.

Softly, ever so softly, the kiss ended. His lips left hers, lingering a hairsbreadth away. His hands slid to her hips, grasping them with strong fingers and pulling her to him. The hard ridge of his manhood greeted her. She looked into his eyes, gone black with desire.

      “You’ll come to my bed first. Then I’ll talk to Tyree about my weapons.”

_^_^_^_^_^_^_

More about A Hero's Bargain:

When a poker game turns ugly, erstwhile gambler Ryder Vaughan runs for his life. After crash landing his ship on an unknown world it looks like his life will be a short one - until the lovely healer, Saba Duer, finds him and saves him. Smitten, Saba has no qualms allowing Ryder to seduce her.

In Ryder, Saba sees the coming of a hero to save her people. The deadly errol that has terrorized the Ramalho Clan for so many years has been spotted on a course that will bring it to the village. Ryder has a weapon that could destroy the creature. She strikes a bargain with him to secure his help. Ryder’s not yet well and whole, but there is no choice. Saba has to let him go and face the truth – she’s sent him on a mission to die.

                     

But Ryder has a plan - and dying isn’t a part of it.

A HERO'S BARGAIN

(second edition)

Available now at Amazon

For a full excerpt, please visit my website.

Rayne Forrest

http://www.rayneforrest.com

As we enter another year - 2015

I'm sure you've heard this many times before. People always say they can't believe it's a new year. Well, it most surely is. This January 3rd marked twelve years since I got the first publishing contract as Rayne Forrest. That book was The Skies of Mahdis, a story I dearly love. Now that I'm twelve years on I need to revisit that story and apply those things I've learned. Skies has been out of print for ten years so it's time. 

I've also had more than a few blogs over the years. First there was Through a Glass Brightly. That was followed by Forrest Whispers and Rayne's Ramblings. I tried Live Journal, Word Press and a few others but I think it's safe to say I prefer blogger. Anyway... 

Here I am with a lot of old blog content. I was looking through the old files to determine if it was time to de-clutter but that didn't work so well. Instead of dumping content from 2004 (yes, that is two thousand four), I think I may recycle some of them, especially the ones that make me laugh. 

Some of them remind of people who have left my life, for one reason or another. So it is with the friend mentioned in this blog from July of 2005. We drifted apart and eventually lost touch but I remember her with fondness. So without more rambling, here's The Rules. 
* * *

July 18, 2005

I get together with a friend every few Saturdays for early morning tea or coffee. We go to the various coffee shops and tea parlors in the area but never the same one twice in a row so we don't wear out our welcome. Our Saturday morning get-togethers energize me. It’s very cathartic to share hopes, dreams and aggravations with someone who’s “been there, done that.”

Our discussion took a turn to The Rules last Saturday. Rules, you ask? Yes. THE Rules. The things you must not do as a writer - ever. If you do them no one will buy your book.

You know what the great thing is about epublishing? The Rules are getting broken. And you know why? The readers.

Readers are smarter than ever. Readers are more sophisticated than ever. And it shows.

One of The Rules states that you can’t change the point of view within a scene. Hey, I grew up with television. Pan in on Captain Kirk! Quick! Jump to the close up of Spock! Leap to McCoy! (Didn’t you just love his blue eyes?)

Somewhere in those 7.8 seconds we KNOW what all three of those men are thinking. It’s not a bit confusing. It wasn’t even confusing in 1966 when I was nine years old.

No, readers are smart. They can follow along. They can keep up. Not a problem. I know this because I was a reader long before I was a writer.

Another of The Rules is that you cannot write in the first person. I love the Outlander series by Diana Gabaldon, don’t you?

Anyway, my friend and I sipped our coffee and nibbled our way through a pair of raspberry and white chocolate scones and bashed The Rules. And what did I do when I finally made it home?

I sat down at my computer, read the last page I’d written, then retyped half of it because, well, because I’d broken The Rules.

Rayne

http://www.rayneforrest.com