Kick Book Pirate Bootie with Guest Blogger Gail Koger

Win a copy of The Warlord's Comeuppance or Just My Luck by author Gail Koger today at the Book Boost!

She's here to chat about the trouble with pirates and here's what she had to say...

Writers are having problems with pirates. No, not the kind with big ass swords who yell, “I’m going to use your guts for garters, my pretty.” These internet pirates are stealing our books.

Authors and publishers are being forced to walk the financial plank. Not only do these brigands cost us hard-earned income, they can even contribute to ending our careers. Sales determine an author’s success and if thousands of our books are being downloaded from the pirate sites instead of legitimate sites, it can seriously impact our sales and future career.

What surprises us the most about these bandits is they list “being a mom” on their profiles. Are these moms going into grocery stores and stealing food? If they need a new car, do they steal the neighbor’s? Do they spot a designer dress and stuff it in their pants and run out the front door? Probably not, because they know they’ll end up in jail with a nice arrest record and fingerprint goop all over their hands.

The pirates know they are doing wrong but just don’t seem to care and here’s a list of excuses they hide behind.

Pending legislation is censorship and it violates freedom of speech. Say what? Stealing other people’s work is NOT freedom of speech. It’s theft, plain and simple. How would the pirates like it, if they worked a 60 hour week and on payday someone came in and snatched 90% of their pay away claiming it was their “right” to do so?

The economy. Guess what? Writers eat, too. We’re working stiffs trying to make ends meet. Our books usually equal the price of a Happy Meal. A damn good bargain. Our books are our paychecks and we only get paid based on the sales of our books. We don’t get a penny from the misinformed bargain hunters who troll pirate sites looking for “free” downloads.

Writers are rich, greedy pigs. Rich? I wish. Most authors make less than a Walmart greeter. Sad but true. Very few of us live in a mansion and jet to Europe for the weekend.

They’re doing us a favor by putting our books on these sites. Are you kidding me? You’re helping them rob us blind. Our kids get really cranky when we don’t feed them.

The bottom line: It’s a criminal act to upload or download books you didn’t write. Most of the “free” download sites are basically criminal organizations. The Torrents are Russian pirates who allow stolen books, videos, music and movies to be downloaded to their sites and set up advertising accounts to rake in the money.

Pending senate bill S3804 will stop copyright infringement. However, this bill was stashed when the Senators made a mad dash home to save their flagging careers. The elections are over folks. Let’s get this bill passed. Visit here: www.washingtonwatch.com.

I was recently interviewed by KPHO, a CBS station in Phoenix but this is a national problem. Check it out here: http://www.kpho.com/news/25653553/detail.html?taf=pho.

Authors and publishers are fighting a losing battle to eradicate these sites and we need help. Before you visit one of these sites looking for “free” downloads think of the damage it does to the creators of the works you so admire.

A Note From the Book Boost: A great post, Gail. Very important to all of us in the e-book business and in the publishing industry at large. Thank you for sharing your thoughts, research, and giving us tips on what we can do to take action to kick some pirate bootie! Now, please give us a bit more about your latest book.

Blurb:

Stealing from a warlord and giving him the one finger salute as I made my getaway was not the brightest thing I’d ever done. Okay, it was an incredibly stupid stunt.

Did I mention that this particular Coletti warlord is the most feared in the entire galaxy? That Zarek’s the ultimate predator and even the other warlords are scared spitless of him? That he never ever stops until he either captures or kills his prey?

Yeah, I have the big, bad after me and all because of one little finger. Okay and a Ditrim crystal the size of my fist. Am I worried? Of course, only an idiot doesn’t fear a very angry Coletti warlord. But, I am very good at what I do. Bad news is, so is Zarek.

Want More Gail?

Visit her website here: www.gailkoger.com

Pick up your copy of her book today. Click here!

Contest Time:

Leave a question or comment for Gail and be eligible to win your choice of The Warlord's Comeuppance or Just My Luck. Be sure to leave your contact information in your comment so that we can contact you if you're the winner. Winner selected next week and posted here on the blog. Good Luck & Happy New Year from the Book Boost!

Behind the Sex Scenes with Guest Blogger Melissa Bradley

Win a copy of Maxie Briscoe: Werewolf and meet author Melissa Bradley today at the Book Boost!

She's here to reveal the truth behind writing erotic scenes, here's what she had to say...


As an erotica and romance writer, I’ve encountered a lot of preconceived notions about writing sex. I get asked with not-so-subtle winks, if I’ve written from personal experience and or my own fantasies. I’ve been asked if I get “in the mood” to write sex with wine and chocolate. Or if I put on sexy music, light candles and dress in lingerie in order to “set the stage.”

The reality is, none of the above is true, at least for me. I only wish I had a handsome Raoul tucked away for some “research.” I don’t write with candles burning and sexy music playing because I prefer the quiet to concentrate. It’s just me, all by myself, hunched over my computer. Not very sexy is it? And for the record, wine and chocolate do not play well with technology.

The truth is that writing sex is just like writing any other scene in the story. Boring, I know. I sit at my keyboard, usually dressed in an old tee shirt and jeans, with my plot and research notes, a bottle of water with cap closed tightly and some reference books with pages marked to refer to. I reread what happens right up to the sex scene, then I get to work. Tapping away, I concentrate on things like pacing, emotion, sentence structure and word usage. These are the foundations for writing great sex.

Pacing is vital because a sex scene, like any other, has to flow smoothly for the reader to enjoy it. The scene is like the act itself, you build toward a climax, adding layers of dialogue, action and description. There can be teasing moments that entice the reader, but you want to make sure that everything leads to a satisfying ending. There should be nothing that will detract from the scene and the reader’s overall enjoyment.

Structure seems like some kind of technicality that shouldn’t matter because this is all about the sex act. However, if who’s doing what to who and when is not clear, the audience gets confused and the mood is lost. The hot encounter on the yacht they’ve just blazed through has been carefully constructed action by action. A sex scene has to be choreographed like a dance. When writing about two people making glorious love in some steamy shower, one has to be aware of whose hands, arms, and legs are where. If one isn’t careful, there will be a plethora of extra body parts. When you add more people into the mix as in ménage and orgy, that’s an awful lot of appendages and pronouns to keep track of so structure becomes even more important.

Word usage is something I cannot stress enough. The wrong verbiage or metaphor and you will lose the audience. You want your hero to lave his heroine with his tongue as opposed to lathe. The first is to bathe, the second, a machine that cuts and shapes material. Ouch!

With all this to worry about, you may be wondering just how on earth I get inspired to write sex. I draw inspiration from many different places. My characters, my research…these all spark naughty thoughts. Movies and magazine articles are great sources as well. I admit I have even gotten inspired from some scintillating things that I have heard from other people.

I enjoy writing sex because to me it a very important part of the human experience. I love how this little three letter word colors everything, changes how people see one another and provides such a profound way for expressing feelings. And it’s just plain fun. Handcuffs, toys and nipple clamps, oh my!

A Note from the Book Boost: Melissa, this is a great post and thank you for sharing your profound writing experience with us today. I find that writing sex scenes for my books has become MORE difficult with each book I complete. I think this is because I want each scene to remain fresh, exciting and new...just like that first kiss that you can never experience again. Tough stuff, if you ask me. Thanks for joining us and please tell us more about your book!


Blurb:


The name's Maxie Briscoe and I am a werewolf…


That’s right, a real live, full moon-loving, Halloween icon. It’s hard out here for girl like me. To survive, I hide my true self and act the part of a normal human, all while discreetly indulging the Beast within. Talk about walking a narrow ledge. And that’s not even the worst part. Sex is. You see I can bench press a pick-up truck and that spells disaster in the bedroom. You can’t have any real fun knowing you might accidentally crush a lover while in the throes. Kind of kills the mood.


When a friend’s murder shatters the careful existence I’ve carved out, I come face to face with Damien and Noah, two of the hottest men I’ve ever laid eyes on. They are also the first werewolves I’ve run across since my conversion. The attraction is instant, but complicated, the sex… explosive.


Too bad there’s a killer out there with his sights on me …


Excerpt:

Maxie shares her first kiss with the two wolves Damien and Noah…

I rub my cheeks against theirs, absorbing the feel of their whiskers. Damien’s is raspy, just pressing through the skin. Noah’s is stiffer, more a two-day growth than a five o’clock shadow.

Instinct has me turning my face to Damien, seeking his lips. He is the alpha, and I must taste of him first.

“Maxie… Mmm.”

I cut off Damien’s words with my mouth. He tastes like his scent—hot and dark, an exotic spice I have no name for. His lips are firm, not too full, dragging over my mouth with a rawness that is intense and primal, a gathering thunderstorm. I dive deeper into the kiss and he growls, devouring me. He is what I have been waiting for.

All my senses come on high alert, my Beast awakening as my desire grows. My temperature rises, my blood starting to boil in my veins. I am drowning in Damien.

Noah snarls, cupping my breast, reminding me he’s still there. I break Damien’s kiss and capture Noah’s lips. He tastes of the deep arctic forest, wild and cool. His kiss is hungry, savage, fire and ice like an Icelandic volcano.

My chest is pumping like a winded tourist walking around Machu Picchu.

We shift position and fall to the floor, grunting, biting as our Beasts struggle to break through. Somewhere, I hear a loud crack and I shove back to see one of the chairs on its side and Noah holding a broken leg.

“I’m sorry, little one.” Noah flashes me a sheepish grin, his hair hanging over his beautiful eyes.

“He doesn’t know his own strength sometimes.” Damien smiles, resting an arm on his knee.

“Guys, we’re going to have to take this someplace safer.”

Want More Melissa?

Visit her here: http://melissasimaginarium.blogspot.com/

Pick up your copy of her book today! Click here!

Contest Time:

Win a free download of Maxie Briscoe:Werewolf by leaving a question or comment for Melissa. She will draw a winner and post the name in the comments section here at the blog by midnight tonight (Central time). Please be sure to leave your contact information so that Melissa can get your prize to you!

Make Medieval Love with Guest Blogger Nicole Zoltack

Meet author Nicole Zoltack and chat about Medieval Love today at the Book Boost!


Here's what she had to say...


When we think of marriage, we first think of love. Two sides of the same coin.


But this was not the same way of thinking back in the Middle Ages.


Women had no choice in who they married. Oftentimes, they married a total stranger, a man they had never met before they walked down the aisle.


The idea of arranged marriages is foreign to some of us today, even though it is still common practice in some parts of the world today.


I already mentioned that women had no choice; however (typical male-dominated society), there were some cases in which the man could decide his bride.


Sometimes, love found the couple after they were married as backward as that sounds to us. Many times, even if they did not grow to love each other, lasting friendships bloomed.


Marriage was done at a young age – the girls as young as 12, the boys 17 – and for financial, practical, or dynastic reasons.


The feudal relationship between a knight and his liege lord was the model for courtly love as well as the code of chivalry. The knight swears the same obedience and loyalty to his courtly lady that he would his liege lord. This ideal is taken from bards’ songs and hardly ever practiced. After all, most knights would not be submissive to their lady! However, his love for her was a source for inspiration, for courage, and power, to do great deeds, in order to win her favor, to be good enough for her.


Oftentimes, the knight fell in love with a married lady. Remember, most marriages were not born out of love. Courtly love was a means for the knights to show their affection despite the marital state of the lady. The most famous instance of this occurrence is Sir Lancelot and Queen Guinevere.


Now for some of the more defined rules of courtly love.


The Twelve Chief Rules in Love & the Art of Courtly Love

From The Art of Courtly Love by Andreas Capellanus, a 12th century Frenchman:


1. Thou shalt avoid avarice like the deadly pestilence and shalt embrace its opposite.
2. Thou shalt keep thyself chaste for the sake of her whom thou lovest.
3. Thou shalt not knowingly strive to break up a correct love affair that someone else is engaged in.
4. Thou shalt not chose for thy love anyone whom a natural sense of shame forbids thee to marry.
5. Be mindful completely to avoid falsehood.
6. Thou shalt not have many who know of thy love affair.
7. Being obedient in all things to the commands of ladies, thou shalt ever strive to ally thyself to the service of Love.
8. In giving and receiving love's solaces let modesty be ever present.
9. Thou shalt speak no evil.
10. Thou shalt not be a revealer of love affairs.
11. Thou shalt be in all things polite and courteous.
12. In practising the solaces of love thou shalt not exceed the desires of thy lover.

~~~

The Art of Courtly Love


1. Marriage is no real excuse for not loving.
2. He who is not jealous cannot love.
3. No one can be bound by a double love.
4. It is well known that love is always increasing or decreasing.
5. That which a lover takes against the will of his beloved has no relish.
6. Boys do not love until they reach the age of maturity.
7. When one lover dies, a widowhood of two years is required of the survivor.
8. No one should be deprived of love without the very best of reasons.
9. No one can love unless he is propelled by the persuasion of love.
10. Love is always a stranger in the home of avarice.
11. It is not proper to love any woman whom one would be ashamed to seek to marry.
12. A true lover does not desire to embrace in love anyone except his beloved.
13. When made public love rarely endures.
14. The easy attainment of love makes it of little value: difficulty of attainment makes it prized.
15. Every lover regularly turns pale in the presence of his beloved.
16. When a lover suddenly catches sight of his beloved his heart palpitates.
17. A new love puts an old one to flight.
18. Good character alone makes any man worthy of love.
19. If love diminishes, it quickly fails and rarely revives.
20. A man in love is always apprehensive.
21. Real jealousy always increases the feeling of love.
22. Jealousy increases when one suspects his beloved.
23. He whom the thought of love vexes eats and sleeps very little.
24. Every act of a lover ends in the thought of his beloved.
25. A true lover considers nothing good except what he thinks will please his beloved.
26. Love can deny nothing to love.
27. A lover can never have enough of the solaces of his beloved.
28. A slight presumption causes a lover to suspect his beloved.
29. A man who is vexed by too much passion usually does not love.
30. A true lover is constantly and without intermission possessed by the thought of his beloved.
31. Nothing forbids one woman being loved by two men or one man by two women.

A Note from the Book Boost: Wow! Some of these are very interesting. I like this one: "Boys do not love until they reach the age of maturity." Ha! And then there's this one: "When made public love rarely endures." There may be some truth to this concept even all these many years down the road after all. Thanks for sharing Nicole. Please tell us more about your book.

Blurb:

Aislinn of Bairbhe dreams of becoming a lady knight to honor the death of her fallen brother. To her mother's horror, King Patrick grants Aislinn's wish and she begins her long years of training.


Despite the mockery of the other pages, and the disdain of Prince Caelan who also trains to be a knight, Aislinn commits herself to her dreams and embarks on a journey of self-discovery and bravery. Through the years, Aislinn and Caelan grow from sparring classmates to good friends. They both know that someday Caelan will marry for the sake of the kingdom, but even that cannot keep them from falling in love.


The threat of war with the Speicans is a constant threat, and one that grows more frightening as she and Caelan train toward their eventual knighthood. Aislinn has committed herself to serving Arnhem, and has promised herself as King's Champion when Caelan claims the throne. She is willing to give up everything... her childhood, her life, even her heart for Arnhem. No matter the pain it brings.


Excerpt:

"Is there anyone else that you have feelings for, Aislinn? Is that why you don't want to be with Geoffrey?"

Aislinn blinked, thinking about his question. "I haven't thought about such things. I'm too focused on becoming a knight. That's all I'm worried about."

Caelan pushed back his chair and stood. With him on his feet, Aislinn had to tip back her chin to look him in the face, he had grown so much in the years since they'd first met. "There is no one else?"

She shook her head.

Caelan took a step closer to her, stepping so close he only had to whisper for her to hear him. "What if I told you that Geoffrey isn't the only one who favors your company?"

His closeness overwhelmed Aislinn and she tried to take a step back. Her shoulders bumped the bookshelf behind her and several books shifted, but none made enough noise to draw the attention of anyone else in the library. Caelan lay a hand against her cheek, his thumb beneath her chin, and with a gentle touched, forced her to look at him.

Her heart pounded hard in her chest like a caged bird and Aislinn caught her breath.

"Caelan," she whispered softly, but before she could say more, his lips covered hers.

Aislinn froze for a second as he held his mouth against hers, then heard herself sigh when he pressed closer and moved his lips. Aislinn's eyes fluttered closed and she raised her hands to lay them on his chest, feeling his heart pound as hard as her own. Then reality snapped at her and she shoved him away.

"Stop it!"

She pushed past the prince and rushed from the library, with several squires and younger pages turning at her escape. Aislinn ran to her room and slammed the door shut. She leaned against it and slid to the floor, her head in her hands.

How dare he kiss me!

But the worst realization was that she'd kissed him back. Even the memory now made her insides tremble and her hands shake.

Aislinn stared into the empty space of her chamber for several minutes, trying to push aside the memory that refused to leave before she finally stood. Completing her work would occupy her mind. She collapsed onto her bed and promptly fell asleep instead.

Want More Nicole?

Visit her website here: http://www.NicoleZoltack.com
Or her blog here: http://nicolezoltack.blogspot.com
Or follow her on Twitter here: http://twitter.com/NicoleZoltack

Pick up your copy of her book today! Click here!

Fun Times with Guest Blogger Frances Pauli

Meet author Frances Pauli today at the Book Boost.


Here's what she had to say about keeping it fun...


I spent most of my career path decision making years vacillating
between writing and painting. I’d always loved both, and at that time, I felt like I had some potential in either arena. I chose art almost arbitrarily, and proceeded to spend a good five or six years getting a four year degree in the field. By the time I’d finished, of course, I hated painting.

I’m not sure why. Maybe it was the pressure, the artistic angst, the teachers who hit you with big willow sticks (really). Maybe not. I suspect it had a great deal to do with having to paint, with coming to class and being required to put brush to canvas every day. It became work. Needless to say, when I started writing in earnest, I had some worries.

To my relief, with writing, it never happened. It seemed like the more I wrote, the more I took my writing and my stories seriously, the more I enjoyed doing it. Eureka! Writing was still fun. Years later, stories and stories later, I still love diving in and getting lost in the act of creating my books.

I suppose that’s a sign. I mean, perhaps I wasn’t destined to be a painter. Although, finally, I can have some fun with it again.

Perhaps, finding that thing you can do every day and still enjoy is the key. If so, I’m in the right place. I can try to take a day off, and still find my feet turning toward the office, my urge to sit down and start typing still in full swing.

I recently attended a science fiction convention, and was enjoying a conversation with a couple of well-known authors when someone brought up the subject of NaNoWriMo. For those of you that don’t know, National Novel Writing Month goes on every November, and thousands of
insane authors (myself included) furiously write as fast as they can in order to finish a fifty thousand word novel in thirty days. In a nutshell, it’s a lot of fun.

So I was surprised when a con-goer asked the authors if they participated in NaNoWriMo when one of them answered with the following: “Are you kidding? I do this for a living, why would I want to do it for fun?”

Ah. There it was. The old art school, fun-sucking, work work work, but this time it happened to an author, one I happen to think quite fondly of. It made me sad, a little. I mean, I don’t feel too bad for her, she has a fantastic career. Still, that comment worried me. I could see it, over the years, happening to someone, even someone who loved story, someone who was destined to write.

I think maybe, the secret is to keep it fun. I think maybe, it’s all in the attitude. I like to think that I can pull it off. Maybe just by keeping the alternative fixed firmly in mind. I never liked regular jobs, hourly punching in, bosses. Okay, I did like bosses, a lot, but that’s another story. For now, I’m pretty sure that this job, this fun, creative obsessive storytelling, is the place to be. I hope everyone can find that seed of joy in whatever they do, and I’d love to hear what you do, what you all do, to keep it fun.

A Note From the Book Boost: I think in this lifetime if we can find one thing we can do that we truly enjoy that we've been blessed beyond measure. Thanks for sharing your life experiences with us today Frances! Please tell us more about your book.


Blurb:


When her interpretation of a traditional holiday scene loses Maris the annual ice sculpting competition, her favorite season takes a turn toward dismal. The rent is due, and her landlady won’t accept a fourth place ribbon. So when the enigmatic, Lord Brayce, arrives with a last minute commission, Maris jumps at the chance. And as her host’s icy exterior begins to melt away, Maris finds there is far more to him than meets the eye, and his attentions leave her wishing this particular job could last forever.

But when Brayce’s family arrives for the holiday, Maris is plunged head over heels into a world of secrets and an age old conflict between brothers.

Can an ordinary girl survive at the center of a battle straight out of myth? And if her impossible suspicions are correct, what are the odds that Maris can win her prince?


Excerpt:


The sculpture only had a few hours of life remaining. Maris eyed the lines her chisel had driven into the block through lowered lashes and tried her best not to think about the fact that it melted a fraction more with each passing instant. The ice sparkled in the gallery lighting, flashed like a diamond and threatened to drip.

Her vision, her entry and her last hope sat dissolving on its unremarkable wooden pedestal.

Around her, the gallery glistened with other pieces, other stories born from someone else’s chisel. Her fellow artists drifted, lost and anxious, between their own work and the competition. Each brow squirmed against the tension in the air.

Less than ten minutes remained before the judging.

Maris shifted her weight from one foot to the other and focused on her own piece. No sense in fretting over the others, no sense in worrying now, when she had no time left at all. She closed her eyes and thought of the prize money, not enough to swoon over, but certainly an amount that could serve her purposes. It came with the reputation as well. The accolade would mean commissions. It would mean work, and steady pay.

A throat cleared nearby. Maris started, opened her eyes and nearly slapped the hand away on reflex. A man stood opposite her, and his long fingers stroked the sculpture she’d spent so many hours shaping. She clenched her jaw against the urge to chastise. He might be a judge, or a potential patron, but he had a lot to learn about ice.

She followed the hand with her eyes, willed it to lift away from the lines she prayed didn’t blur at his attention. The heat from a finger—Maris cringed—could ruin her efforts in mere seconds.
“The epic battle.” His voice held no hint of his opinion on the piece.

It stated fact only. Maris tore her gaze from his disobedient hand. She followed a tailored, indigo
suit sleeve to the man’s face, and found her words frozen in her throat. He had eyes that pinned you in place, clear blue, backed by an unnamed authority. She sensed little amusement when he smiled at her. His expression simply cracked.

He nodded toward the sculpture, and his finger pointed to the apex. Night black hair danced around his angular face with the gesture. “If I’m not mistaken,” he continued. “You’ve veered slightly from the traditional formula.”

“A small, artistic license.” Maris’ spine stiffened. As intimidating as the stranger looked, she felt compelled to defend her work. Years of school may have prepared her for criticism, but exposure hadn’t lessoned the sting of it. “The Summer Prince would typically be ascendant.” She pointed to indicate the sculpture’s deviance. “I’ve chosen to feature his adversary, in honor of the season.”

“Delightful.”

“Pardon?” She had to tilt her head back to meet his gaze. This time the smile held at least a trace of humor at the corners. His eyes flashed and held hers captive, frozen in a field of ice blue.

“I like it.” His smile cracked wider, one end curling as he nodded again.

“Wonderful.”

Want More Frances?

Visit her website here: http://francespauli.com/

Pick up your copy of her book. Click here!

Say What? With Guest Blogger Toni Sweeney

Win a copy of Demon in Blue Jeans and chat with author Toni Sweeney today at the Book Boost.


Here's what she had to say about today's use of grammar in writing...


R.I.P. Anglo Lingua


There have been several articles written lately—mostly by newspaper columnists--lamenting the poor use of grammar and how it’s bringing about the death of the English language . One wonders if columnists in other countries also voice this concern but I’m going to limit myself to good ol’ American English today, because even if English isn’t on its deathbed yet, it certainly looks as if it’s in the throes of a very serious illness.


Like all writers, I have a list of what I call Writing Sins (and at this point, a number of you are probably already muttering, “Oh, no Here we go again with the Writing Sins!”) and the two at the top of the list are: A. Incorrect grammar, and B. Inaccuracy.


On my website, besides having a blog with guests, I also have a book review page and after reviewing thirty novels thus far, I have come to two conclusions: although most of the novels are well-written as far as plot and dialogue go, they make the same grammatical mistakes and their copy writers don’t catch them. What great sin am I speaking of? Not so bad when you consider the rest of the world’s problems but to those of us trained in English (I’m speaking of the teachers-turned-writers among us) they are minor slaps in the face.


The greatest culprit is the mis-use of pronouns. As in the following:


She followed him and I to the park.
Between you and I, it isn’t true.
That must be them at the door.
I look a lot better than her.
I could care less about it.
Each has their own opinion.
He’s the man that got away.


Which of the above are correct? Answer: None. It should be:


She followed him and me to the park.
Between you and me, it isn’t true.
That must be they at the door.
I look better than she.
I couldn’t care less about it.
Each has his own opinion.
He’s the man who got away.


Why? I’m not going to go into all the intricate grammatical rules and regulations (see your friendly neighborhood Middle School English teacher for those), just a short, easy rule my own English teacher, Mrs. Addie Rie Baird, taught me. Try each pronoun alone and see how it sounds and if it makes sense. As in:


She followed him and I to the park. She followed him to the park. (That sounds OK.) She followed I to the park. (Really now. Would you say actually that?) She followed me to the park. (Sound better?) So… She followed him and me to the park.


I look better than her. (Oh, please!) It’s: I look better than she. Believe it or not, there’s an understood phrase at the end of the sentence comparing the two people. I look better than she (does) or than she (looks). Would anyone say I look better than her looks? Or than her does? Perhaps, if you were aged four or five.


I could care less. If you could care less, you would. In order to care less about something, you must care about it. If one cares to any degree, then they can care less. Those who can’t care less, do not care at all. If you couldn’t care less, that means it is impossible to care because you’ve never cared in the first place. (This is definitely a logic problem.)


Each has their own opinion. “Each” is singular, “their” is plural. Since “each” means “one of a group” then the pronoun has to be “one” also, hence, “his” or “her” as the gender may be. So…He/she has his/her own opinion. Feminists among you protest…I’m going with masculine singular pronouns here. Each has his own opinion.


He’s the man that got away. In this case, that is used for objects and who for persons. So it’s “He’s the man who got away.” If the sentence had been something like “This is the book that I borrowed,” (book = object), it would have been correct.


I’m now going to make a dogmatic statement which will probably raise a many hackles: As far as I’m concerned, 75% of all the writers I’ve reviewed (and their editors) should take a refresher course in English Grammar. (I suppose now everyone will rush out to find a copy of one of my novels and scour it for grammatical mistakes so they can shake them in my face. I’ll defend myself before the fact by saying I’ve had a couple of copy editors who’ve changed things incorrectly before the books went to print and yes—sometimes I’ve personally slipped up. Every once in a while in a weak moment, my grammatical guard has come down and I’ve back-slid into the way I spoke before I entered high school. After all—as feeble an excuse as it is—I’m only human. (Mostly.) If you don’t wish to consult a teacher and prefer taking the easy way out, get a copy of Webster’s Secretarial Handbook. I have one on my desk for those days when I’m uncertain which way the grammatical wind blows.


Now to item B on the list: Inaccuracy.


Unless something is part of your made-up universe, be as factual as possible. Sometimes I slip up, but I try to do as much research about a subject as I can before I commit it to print. During edits, I spend a lot of time checking back and forth to make certain if a character starts out in London in Chapter I, he’s not in Tokyo at its end, unless he says somewhere along the line he boarded an east-bound jet. And his eye color didn’t change from brown to blue as he winged his way.

I once read a novel in which someone was expounding on how Lee Harvey Oswald murdered Jack Ruby (and it wasn’t in an alternate universe!) In another novel, a character has Lasix surgery. Since Lasix is a diuretic drug, I’m wondering what kind of surgery that involved. (That one was caught by the editor, I’m happy to announce.)


Whether your novel is set in 1008 or 2008, make certain your characters' speech, clothing, and ways of life existed within those boundaries (unless it’s being played for laughs, of course; then, anything goes). Don’t be one of those aiding and abetting the English language into its slow (and predicted) slide into the grave.


Okay, lecture over. Now for the promo: TA-DAHHH!

My latest novel, Wizard’s Wife is scheduled for a January, 2011 release from Class Act Books, and I’m sponsoring a contest. Read down below for the details.

A Note from the Book Boost: Thanks for the grammar lesson, Toni. If there are errors in my books (and I'm sure there are) I'd just as soon not know about it. Most of the time, the publisher won't let you correct it after the fact anyway. So, I just like to not think about it after that final galley goes through. LOL Denial is a beautiful thing. Congrats on your new release. Please tell us more.

Blurb:

Cross the Magic Portal into Ais Linn, a dimension where unicorns roam and werewolves prowl… Where a faery wizard and his mortal bride battle the Lord of Dark Fire for possession not only of his own world but of the Earth itself.


Newly-wed Megan McMuir is more than shocked to discover her husband is a faery, and not just any faery but the Champion of White Fire, sent to protect the Earth from invasion by dark wizard Exeter Dubhtina. When David is recalled Ais Linn, Megan braves the Portal’s dangers to follow him. Soon, she finds herself the Dark Lord’s prisoner, a pawn in the fight against her husband. The threat from Exeter Dubhtina is a deadly one: Surrender and bow to me or watch your wife and unborn child die!


David has sworn to protect the Earth. Will he break his vows or lose Megan and their baby?


Excerpt:

“Damn it, Megan!” He made an angry gesture, slapping his hands against his thighs. “What can I do to make you believe me?”

“Prove it.” Call his bluff. There’s no way he can prove what he says is true. Perhaps that’ll snap him out of it.

“What?”

“You heard me. Prove to me you’re a faery, I mean a wizard. Go on. Show me how you look when you’re in Wizard-form, World-Champion-Defender-class.”

“All right.” He didn’t even pretend to think about it, just stalked a few feet away and turned back to face her. He thrust both hands in front of him, fingers outspread, palms toward his body.

“You’re serious.” Abruptly, Megan was frightened. He really thinks he’s some type of extra-terrestrial supernatural being. Oh, David!

“Damn right.” The hands moved apart, one above his head, the other hovering near his waist. He brought them together. They passed each other. “There! Would you be thinkin’ this better?”

Now it was Megan’s turn to stare.

Where David had been, there now stood an old man...a very old man...long snowy-white hair, longer snowy-white beard.

Merlin. She had no doubt of it. Wearing a black floor-sweeping robe spangled with crescent moons and stars. On the white hair perched a pointed cap, its peak so tall it had creased and fallen over under its own weight, the tip touching his shoulder.

“Who are you supposed to be?” She was out of the chair before she realized it, running toward him only to skid to a stop and approach a little more cautiously. “And where’s David?”
Merlin looked down at her.

“I’m David,” he informed her with a dignified British accent. “World-Champion-Defender-class wizard.”

“Hah!” Later, she would marvel at her ability to be so sarcastic. “You look more like the Wizard of Id.”

“My apologies, my darling.” Looking a little insulted, he swept her a bow that skimmed his sleeves across the carpet. “But is this na your idea o’ how a wizard should look?” He waggled a finger at her. “I’ve lived with you long enough to know how that cute little mind o’ yours works, Meggie.”

“David.” Briefly, her voice held infinite patience. I'll get angry later for that last remark. “Show me how you look. Really.”

“Very well.” The hands moved again, performing the same gesture. Merlin disappeared. David stood in his place.

David. But not David… Oh my God, this is definitely not my husband!

It was the same handsome face, Megan admitted, but changed. Thinner, paler. Copper brows winged above his eyes, not arching as they had before, but arrow-straight. And the eyes themselves... Green like David’s but...there’s no white in them. They were like an animal’s, the entire eye a deep green iris. That, however, wasn’t the most disturbing thing. Protruding from his forehead were antenna. Not butterfly-like but smoky, feathery tendrils floating in the air above his head. They wavered back and forth, like seaweed drifting in a stream, then stiffened and pointed in her direction.

As if they’ve sensed me...homing in...

He turned his head slightly, an ear twitching, and Megan stared. Nearly lobeless, peaked on top. Hello, Mr. Spock! The left one sported a small golden ring with an emerald set in it. She recognized it. It was her wedding present to him.

As he shifted his weight impatiently, Megan allowed her gaze to move down the creature's body, past a tanned chest dusted with coppery hair to a slim waist, and—

“David! Why are you naked?”

And why am I shocked? She’d seen him naked from their wedding night on. He always slept nude. Because what I‘m looking at definitely does not belong to my husband!

“’Twas going to be your next question, was it na? Am I like a human male? I thought I’d save you th’ trouble o’ askin’.” The familiar voice coming from the creature’s mouth shook her slightly.

“D-David.” Her voice trembled and she wasn’t certain if it was laughter or a desire to cry. She gestured sharply. “You know damned well that is not normal...in any respect.” She forced her eyes away from what lay below his waist and began walking around him. She thought she saw a bit of a smirk cross the generous mouth. Has he always been like this? How could I not have noticed? She started to think back to their wedding night. Give it a frame-by-frame scrutiny. Decided not to.

She had to admit he certainly looked like David, aside from those little...uh...big... differences.

Same muscular body, same dark red hair. The hair was so much longer, however, falling past his waist in a tangle, one large curl twisting to caress the division of his buttocks. She nearly reached out and touched that curl, clenched her fingers into a fist to prevent it. There was a fast-growing desire to stroke her fingers down his skin. See if it felt as satiny-smooth as it looked.

OK, so this is David… the real David... and I really don't have an argument with the way he looks, even with— I guess the main problem is the wings.

Dragonfly-like, they didn’t come from under his shoulder blades as she’d always suppose wings should, but grew on each side of his upper spine. Not the tiny things shown in drawings of fairies either, but equaling David’s height. Delicately translucent in bronzes and golds, the colors of a Monarch's wings magnified. When they began to flutter, Megan had to dodge to keep from being struck as the right one swept upward, shedding a fine dust which sifted gently onto the antique Persian carpet. It glittered a moment before disappearing.

Reaching out, she touched the wing, running her fingers along the heavy mast-bone. It was soft and furry, felt like a swatch of velvet, and warm. Megan pressed her fingers against it, letting its heat flow into her hand. She would swear she felt a pulse beating against her palm.

The wing began to quiver. It suffused crimson.

“Meggie, please.” David's voice trembled in unison with the wing’s movements, quite a different sound from his previous belligerence. “My wings are one huge erogenous zone. If you do na stop touchin’ it, darlin’, I’m after sportin’ an embarrassin’ woodie. An’ I’m thinkin’ th’ parlor’s na th’ proper place for that.”

Want More Toni?

Visit her website here: http://www.tonivsweeney.com
Watch her book trailer here: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3fXKB4oLeYQ

Contest Time:
Read the excerpt provided above and then answer this question: How are David’s eyes different from a mortal’s? Send your answer to: tvsweeney@neb.rr.com, and possibly you can be the winner of my novella Demon in Blue Jeans. You lucky reader!

Holiday Special: Buy 1 Cover Ad Get 1 Free!

THIS WEEK ONLY at the Book Boost!
Buy 1 Month of Cover ad promotion (only $5) and get 1 month free!

Our way of saying thanks for a great year!


Details:

1. Purchase must be made by Friday, December 17th to lock in the special promotion pricing but you can start your cover ad at any time in the next 6 months!
2. Send us a .jpg image of your cover;
3. Send us the link you want associated with your cover;
4. Indicate the start date of your ad; and
5. Send PayPal payment to us at: thebookboost@gmail.com


Contact us with any questions at: thebookboost@gmail.com (and send all your ad materials here too, please)!

Happy Holidays from the Book Boost!

WINNERS! WINNERS! Get your fresh, hot WINNERS!

We've randomly selected all the winners from this week's 'Twas A Dark & Delicious Anthology launch party. Here they are...

Please note: If you listed your contact e-mail address, I will try to send you a message on Monday but it will move things along more quickly (ie: you'll get your prize sooner) if you contact me at thebookboost@gmail.com to claim your prize!

Here are the winners:

• A.D. Blackburn's prize of a leg lamp nightlight goes to...JC!
• The Book Boost's prize (from Seleste deLaney's post) of snowflake bath fizzies goes to...Jo Anne!
• The Book Boost's prize (from Gigi Brevard's post) of a handmade eye pillow goes to...Andrea!
• Stacey Espino's prize (from Shannan Albright's post) of the Fearless book bundle goes to...CJ!
• Rachel Clark's prize of Sarah's Pirate goes to...Andrea!
• Kerri Nelson's prize of the Harley boxer shorts goes to...Nesha!

Bonus prizes (drawn from all participants throughout the day):

• Stacey Espino's prize of Beyond the Wall goes to...Julia!
• Stacey Espino's backlist book choice (3 WINNERS) are...firetulip, Vivi, and Camryn!
• Kerri Nelson's backlist choice winner is...Teri Anne!
• Kerri's Nelson's prize of a copy of 'Twas a Dark & Delicious Christmas by the Evernight 13 winner is...Carrie!

CONGRATS to all the winners and thanks to all who came out to support us.

Happy Holidays from the Book Boost and the Evernight 13!

Hit the Books with Guest Blogger Cornelia Amiri

Win your very own little Harry Potter and an autographed copy of Druid Bride today at the Book Boost.

Author Cornelia Amiri is here to discuss her research methods and to tell you about her newest book. Here's what she had to say...


As I write Celtic/Romances set in ancient times, I’m often asked about my research methods. I love history as much as I love writing, I admit it, I am a history geek, so I read about the ancient Celts through non-fiction books, reports of new archeology finds, and website articles as often as I can, for fun. That helps because in writing fiction you have to be detailed in your research, not only do you have to know about famous battles and main historical events, you need a strong understanding of daily activities and what the seasons were like.

Since it is winter I wanted to share some of my research about life during that season for my latest book, a Paranormal Erotic Romance, The Wolf and The Druidess, just released December 7th.


As the days grew colder, as an ancient Celt, you’ll notice salmon returning to spawn in river pools, the last autumn fruit you’ll see will be white, waxy mistletoe berries, and you’ll watch the men of your tribe herd shaggy red cattle from outlying pastures to an enclosure inside your village. Oat-porridge will be your main food during winter yet you’ll eat some delicious meat from hunting.

As an example, here’s a hunting excerpt from The Wolf and The Druidess:

Out of the corner of her eye, Seren noticed a movement and turned her head. She gasped and pointed to a large red stag with long, branching antlers, strutting out of the forest. He dipped his snout to the salt. After taking a lick, he jerked his neck and looked to one side then the other, scanning the area. He leaned down again and took a few licks, then stared straight ahead at Seren; he’d sensed, smelled, spotted her. The stag thrust his rear legs back and bolted towards the woods.

Seren jumped on her horse and goaded it to a gallop. The chase was on to try to head him off and steer him away from the forest, but to everyone’s horror the stag managed to shoot pass Cynfarch’s mount and dart into the woods. Seren and Gwydion charged into the leafy canopy of the dense forest.

“I wish we had brought the dogs.” Seren said to Gwydion as she rode at his side. “But we didn’t want to frighten the deer at the salt lick.”

“I will transform.” Gwydion vaulted off his horse.

As his body twisted and lengthened in some areas and shortened in others, his face distorted with pain until he shifted into a large white wolf, staring at her with burning amber eyes. He raced off, on the trail of the stag as Seren and the other mounted warriors followed.

A wolf’s growl pierced the air as they rode on. Seren drew her horse to a halt as she sighted the white wolf, he had cornered the large, antlered deer.

Speaking of meat, especially beef, one of the main ways your tribe prepares for winter is with cattle raids. If your tribe doesn’t have enough cattle to get it through the long, cold days the warriors will grab some from a neighboring tribe.

Here's an excerpt of a cattle raid from The Wolf and The Druidess:

“No, he is in danger,” Seren snapped.

“It is our only chance. If we lose milk and beef, the entire tribe could starve during the winter.” Hywell shook his head.

“What harm could possibly befall me? The Silures cannot hurt me if I turn them to ice, first,” Gwydion said.

“My mother would not warn me unless the threat was real,” Seren said. “I myself sense danger, but it may not be from the Silures. You must be careful.”

“Seren, he is a god,” Hywell said.

“Yes, what could happen to me?” Gwydion said.

Rather than answer, she peered into Gwydion’s eyes. “Swear to me, you will take heed.”

“Yes, I will return to you unharmed.” Gwydion pulled his wand from the pouch tied to his side and brandished it high. “I am ready.” He swirled the ash stick, decorated with Celtic spirals, through the air in a sweeping motion.

“Foes of the Ordovices Your raid is condemned. I forbid your flight. Winter’s embrace, Shall halt your escape, Frozen like ice. For the tribe to find.”

A blue light with the power of a lightning bold shot from the wand. Gwydion knew everyone in the village could feel the surge, and he noticed Seren and Hywell had clung to each other during the mighty blast.

“It is done,” he said to them.

“Now you must shift into wolf form,” Seren said to Gwydion as she released her hold on Hywell.

After Gwydion eased off his horse, his body blurred from one form to the next as his limbs shortened and his flesh shifted into a pelt of white fur. The wolf stood before Seren once more. Hywell gasped. “Gwydion, do not get too near the cattle, you will spook them.” The wolf nodded, and as he darted off, Seren goaded her horse into a hard gallop. Hywell followed.

Of course one of the main things you want to know as an ancient Celt is how you can stay warm on long winter nights.

Here’s a heated excerpt from The Wolf and The Druidess:

She leaned up to him and peered at his arresting face, strong chin, compelling eyes, and firm, sensual lips. Her mouth covered his in an all-consuming kiss. His lips tasted like warm honey.

Gwydion raised his mouth from hers and as he peered at Seren, her pulse pounded.

“Does that kiss mean you love me too?” he asked in a low, smooth voice.

“In truth it does.”

As he waved his hand in front of her, Seren’s clothing vanished.

She felt cool as she stood nude before him. “That trick of yours isn’t fair, but it does hasten things along. And that is good because I can’t wait. I need you now.”

“But I want to go slow, to explore every inch of you,” Gwydion said in a deep, masculine tone.

As he scanned her body, she felt the heat of his gaze. As she felt his warm fingers against the small of her back, he pressed his lips against hers. The wet kiss sent a delicious sensation spiraling through her. Easing his mouth off hers, he ran a trail of feathery kisses down her tingling neck.

As far as getting through winter in modern times, take a copy of The Wolf and The Druidess to bed with you along with a cup of hot chocolate on a chilly December night. That should warm you up.

A Note from the Book Boost: Thanks for sharing your research and samples with us today, Cornelia. I'm one of your co-release authors this month at Eternal Press and honored to be in the mix with such talent! Those who write historicals well make it look so easy, when in reality they are the toughest books to pen, in my opinion. Thanks for joining us today.


Blurb:

A god leaves the Otherworld and even risks his life...for love.


In days of old, deep in the dark woods, Druidess Seven discovers a wolf shape
shifting into the bare, muscular body of God Gwydion. Her wicked thoughts turn
from the Samhain feast to feasting on Gwydion's yummy goodies. Can their new
found love survive the ultimate long-distance relationship of a god in the
otherworld and a woman on earth?

Is the love Seren and Gwydion share strong enough to overcome the social barrier between an immortal god and a mortal woman? Will the warning of danger from beyond the grave destroy the sensual magic brewing between the wolf and the druidess?

Want More Cornelia?

Visit her website here: http://CelticRomanceQueen.com

Pick up your copy of her book today! Click here!

Contest Time:
Leave a question or comment for Cornelia and be eligible to win a toy figurine of Harry Potter (it looks to be about six inches) and an autographed copy of Druid Bride. Winner will be selected via random draw in about a week. Please leave your contact information for the draw, we will not track you down! Good luck!

The Notion of Promotion with Guest Blogger Dr. Norm

Meet author Norman Wilson today at the Book Boost and read about his path to self-promotion!


Here's what he had to say:



As a former author and co-author of college textbooks in the humanities, the switch to novelist was a quantum leap. New strange sounding words and acronyms floated in and out of my reading. Such things as POD, Self-pub, EBooks, platform, planks, and indie press. Then there were words like blog, fan base, Face Book, My Space, and Twitter and internet talk radio. Internet radio?

One thing seemed quite clear to me, at least at the time. Why should I turn over my creative work to a publisher who will take 80% of the sale price of my book. That excludes the ten percent to an agent. And that question began a learning experience that continues today.

I decided to do a publish on demand. The price was very reasonable at just under one hundred dollars. Galley proof came, checked it, and sent it back. Wonderful. Now I am a novelist. Let the money roll in.

There was a very rude thundering awakening. It didn't! No one came to interview me, no press release appeared in local papers, no adds in the New Yorker.

What? You mean I have to get out there and hawk my own stuff. The atomic answer was a resounding, yes. But how?

An online author friend, Charlotte Boyett-Compo suggested I join IOWFA and 1stturningpoint.

At 1stTurningPoint, I met author and co-founder, Jacquie Rogers and her band of parrots. From them I learned about building a platform, developing name recognition, setting goals, and getting out there and selling myself.

I began building name recognition by publishing articles on various Ezines. Topics were wide ranging and varied. To garner a following you have to become an expert in something. That way you build a fan base. Fans follow you, talk about you, and buy your books. Face Book, My Space, Twitter, Delicious, Digg, Stumbleupon, Hubpages, Red Room, and Red Gage and yes, Passionate Internet Voices World Radio— all became a regular part of my self-promotion routine.

Since the main character in my novels is a shaman, I began to write on shamanism. Those essays have now become the basis for a non-fiction book that is soon to be self-published, Shamanism: What It's All About. It functions as a segue for my forth coming novel, The Shaman's Quest.


A Note from the Book Boost: What a wonderful story, Dr. Norm! I laughed at the bit about waiting for the interviews and money to roll in. I wish it happened that way too. But as you can see from my little promotions blog here--it takes a ton of work and then some. Thanks for blogging with us today. Please share more of your book with us.


Excerpt (edited for length):

The nature of the sacred quest is such that you may have a word, name, or concept of what it is you are looking for, some idea of what it is, how and where it may be found. --Tau Malachi, The Gnostic Gospel of St. Thomas

Often, as it was in my case, I couldn’t put a handle on what I was looking for. For me, the mystery began when I was a kid traveling with my parents into the backcountry of the Canadian bush.

My father, actually I don’t remember of ever calling him that or calling him pop or dad nor do I remember him calling me by my name, Adam. He would pack a large trailer full of supplies, two toys and two of my favorite books for me. I was allowed a note book and a couple of ball points to have in the Buick.

Fishing gear, life jackets, boat cushions, a twenty-five horse Johnson outboard motor, cans for gasoline, and cans for kerosene got stashed along the sides of a gigantic ice chest that sat over the middle axel of the trailer. He’d had it made special as well as the trailer.

Everything had to be balanced just so. I guess he viewed life that way. There had to be meat, potatoes, and two vegetables on his plate. Balanced. A fishing lure had to have two sets of hooks, no singles, or threes; one set in front and one at the rear of the lure. Spinners are the exception. The three pronged hook is always at the rear. Even his office desk is balanced: telephone on the right, family photo on the left, pen set in the center.

The ice chest which held such a prestigious position held much of our food: flour, salt, pepper, sugar, coffee, pastas, and dozens of other consumable items. Fresh stuff we bought at the last small town some fifty miles before hitting the off road to the lake and our camp. A pillow, blanket, snacks, and a thermos of coffee went in the car. Suitcases, full of enough clothes to last two months, went into the trunk.

We headed out at about three in the morning because my father liked to get an early start. We were heading into northeastern Quebec Province where we would spend the summer on a large lake with a group Indians who camped there. It was a sixteen hour trip, with stops only to gas up, and to eat one meal while on the road. If I had to pee he pulled off to the side of the road. As soon as we got there, he would nap for an hour and then unload the trailer, and go fishing. He seemed drawn to the water, needing it to nourish him. Strange I never thought of it that way then, but now is now and things are different.

He got away from it all by going to the lake. No telephones ringing, no radio, or television. No one at the office pestering him with questions about commodities. No parties and dinners with insufferable people. Whatever attracted him about the lake, it seemed to pull him further into himself. During those times my mother took long walks into the woods and sometimes the two of us would visit one of the teepees. Much of the time I was left to explore my version of the world.

Living in a one-room log cabin with a dirt floor, a legless cast-iron pot-bellied stove, and one window covered with cheese-cloth created just the right setting for an adventurous seven-year old. Two beds, actually wooden poles driven into the earthen floor with scrapped moose skin drawn tight for the mattresses, lined up against the two side walls of the cabin. The stove sat in the middle of the room, a small hand made wooden table sat beneath the lone window. An old wooden chair sat at each end. Along the side of the table, a cut log, about 24 inches high when standing on its end became by chair. An old rocking chair occupied a space near the stove. My mother called it a Boston rocker.

We lit kerosene lamps when it got dark. No electricity. My father believed I should have at least one chore. Each day I went into the woods to a natural spring with a tin bucket to get our drinking water. Once I dispensed the water bugs and mosquitoes, I would scoop up the water, and slosh it back to the cabin. And since we didn't have running water there wasn't an inside toilet. We had the "out house." Fortunately one of the items packed was toilet paper.

Want More Dr. Norm?

Visit his website to learn more about his new exciting series, COMING SOON!

http://www.shamanicmysteries.com/

The Great Wrap Up @ the Book Boost

Our launch party event has come to a close but we have a few more goodies to give away. The prizes below were donated by Stacey Espino and Kerri Nelson and we'll draw the winners from everyone who commented on today's posts!

Remember that all Contests will remain open until Friday, December 10th at 11:59 p.m. (CST). So, there's still time to comment on any posts you might have missed!

Be sure to visit all the blog posts from today including: A.D. Blackburn, Seleste deLaney, Gigi Brevard, Shannan Albright, Rachel Clark, and Kerri Nelson.

Bonus Prizes up for grabs:

1. One copy of Beyond the Wall by Stacey Espino.

2. One copy of the book of your choice from Stacey Espino's backlist (3 WINNERS).

3. One copy of the book of your choice from Kerri Nelson's backlist.

4. One copy of 'Twas a Dark & Delicious Christmas by the Evernight 13 (courtesy of Kerri Nelson).

Thanks to all the authors who participated today and everyone who stopped by to wish us well!

Happy Holidays and may all your naughty and nice dreams come true.


--Kerri Nelson
Owner, The Book Boost

P.S. If you are in the mood for the softer side of romance and want to do your good deed for the season, please check out my new release from Eternal Press entitled Making the Ghost of It (click here). All my author proceeds will go to help find a cure for juvenile diabetes! Read more about my fundraising efforts here.

Deliver Me with Kerri Nelson

Win a some Harley Davidson boxer shorts with Sexy Biker Santa on them & chat with Book Boost Owner & Evernight author Kerri Nelson.

My story Holly's Clause is one of the lucky 13 paranormal Christmas stories in the 'Twas a Dark & Delicious Christmas anthology. And I'm here to tell you all about my love of men in uniform.

Here goes...



In my story, the heroine falls in love with the UPS man. Another one of my 'men in uniform' crushes extends to the men in brown. I can't help it. Here in the south, they zip in and out of those trucks with the speed of a super hero. They wear those brown shorts and their legs are always nicely tanned. They are always courteous and have a smile for you. What can I say, I'm a sucker for the uniform no matter the color or insignia is attached.


Of course, with my background in Criminal Justice and the legal system I also had to find a way to turn this paranormal erotic short into to something law worthy. Therefore the "Clause" reference is a play on "Claus"...naturally.


Holly falls for gorgeous yet efficient UPS guy Liam and becomes quickly addicted to online shopping in order to quench her other addiction--seeing him on her front porch on a regular basis!


So, fess up, how many of you have an online shopping addiction? Do you have favorite stores that you like to shop at online? Do you prefer the convenience of clicking your mouse instead of standing in long lines at the mall?


I know I do. I rarely shop in stores anymore. With all the free shipping deals around the holidays it just makes sense to shop online. Plus, I get to see the UPS man on a regular basis, too!


From a review of Kerri Nelson's story by Happily Ever After Reviews (a five tea cup review*):

Holly life has come down to ordering on line so the gorgeous UPS man will come to her home every day. Liam is the man that Holly dreamed of everyday since she moved into her neighborhood. On Christmas Eve Holly made sure a package was being delivered so that she made sure Liam would be there for her to tell and seduce. There was a cliché in her plans when a demon calls upon her to collect her soul because of a clause she signed in her homeowner’s paper. This story is a lesson to read the small print on all contracts.

Pick up your copy today!

Click here for the e-book version.

Click here for the huge, collectible print version!



Want More Kerri?

Visit her website here: www.kerrinelson.com

Follow her on Twitter here: www.twitter.com/kerribookwriter

Contest Time:

All contests from today's blogs will run until 11:59 p.m. (CST) on Friday December 10th. Winners selected by the Book Boost via random draw and posted here on the blog on Saturday, December 11th. Be sure to leave your contact information in your comment, we will not hunt you down!

Enter each author's contest individually by posting a comment or question. Check back throughout the day for more chances to win great prizes!

Kerri is giving away a collectible set of Harley Davidson Sexy Biker Santa boxer shorts in a collectible tin to one lucky soul. Tell her about your fave online stores! Good Luck to all.

Down Under Romance with Guest Blogger Rachel Clark

Win a copy of Sarah's Pirate by Evernight author Rachel Clark!

This Australian author from our Christmas anthology entitled 'Twas a Dark & Delicious Christmas is Rachel Clark and she's here to tell us why she chose romance. Here's what she had to say...


Hi I’m Rachel Clark and I write romance novels. A friend asked recently why I don’t write murder mysteries or thriller conspiracies or scary horror stories instead of erotic romance? My answer—I’d rather think about love and sex than try to think up gory ways to murder somebody.

I write romance for the same reason I read it—for the happily ever after, for the good defeats evil, for the hero or heroes or heroines who save the day, for the warm fuzzy feeling true love brings and because I’d rather dream up inventive sex than disturbing crime scene details. Of course, my books have a few elements from other genres but in the end they are all romance. I write about love and that is just about the best feeling in the world.

My short story in the ‘Twas a Dark and Delicious Christmas anthology is about a recently married couple who suddenly realize life can be a lot more fun with the right inspiration.

Actually, I had a little giggle when I was writing Once Upon a Christmas Spanking. I checked on the internet to make sure that Christmas themed butt-plugs actually existed but instead found a massive statue of Santa holding a butt plug is his hand. Hmm… well I suppose it does look sort of like a Christmas tree (If you’ve never seen a butt plug, that is. *wink*).

A Note From the Book Boost: That is too funny, Rachel. This one sounds like spicy goodness and oh what fun to be included in the collection with you! Hope your weather is lovely on the other side of the globe right now.

From a review of Rachel Clark's story by Happily Ever After Reviews (a five tea cup review*):

What is a wife to do when sex at home isn’t what all her friends are talking about. She confronts her husband not knowing that he gave up dominated sex life when he met her. Discovering that his wife needs to be spanked and that she orgasms harder with them brings their relationship into a new dimension just in time for Christmas.

Pick up your copy today!

Click here for the e-book version.

Click here for the huge, collectible print version!

Want More Rachel?

Visit her website here: http://www.rachelclark.webs.com/

Follow her on Twitter here: http://twitter.com/RachelWrites

Contest Time:

All contests from today's blogs will run until 11:59 p.m. (CST) on Friday December 10th. Winners selected by the Book Boost via random draw and posted here on the blog on Saturday, December 11th. Be sure to leave your contact information in your comment, we will not hunt you down!

Enter each author's contest individually by posting a comment or question. Check back throughout the day for more chances to win great prizes!

Rachel is giving away a copy of her book Sarah's Pirate to one lucky soul. Tell us about something unusual you discovered on the Internet! Good Luck to all.