Excerpt from TABLE FOR FOUR

TABLE FOR FOUR is now available for the Kindle! And the Nook. And every other ebook platform you could possibly want.

This novel, my second ever published, has recently come back to me. You can still order print copies from Ellora's Cave while they have them in stock, but once they're gone, I'll put it up at Createspace (as soon as I figure out their formatting rules!) for those who prefer a hard copy.

The re-release of TABLE FOR FOUR has a different cover (for those of you reading in a reader, click through to see the new cover in the sidebar) I designed myself. I'd love feedback on it, as I'm really a writer, not a visual artist. Drop me a line or put your critique in the comments section below.

Need a reminder of this book? An excerpt to jog your memory or whet your appetite? Read on!

David and Lissa Patterson have the perfect marriage, as long as one isn’t talking about their sex life. David prefers to snuggle, enjoying the slow and sensuous approach to intimacy; Lissa longs for a dominant alpha male when it comes to sex. She wants to be tied, taken, and left breathless. The two settle on a compromise that leaves neither of them totally satisfied.

Until one night, when a tall Gypsy King and his Beautiful Lady walk into their lives…

from Chapter One

  

A small diner just down the street and around the corner from their modest house tended to be one of their habitual eating spots. Their usual booth by the front picture window was available and Lissa and David slid in along the maroon vinyl seats facing each other across the matching maroon table.

They ordered and David told her what he’d accomplished while she was ‘busy’ elsewhere. He was very careful not to refer to her private fetish in public—to do so would violate another taboo. Lissa, however, was grateful for his discretion, it had taken her a long time to tell the person she most loved in all the world; there was no way she wanted anyone else to know.

Indeed, part of the arousal of the afternoon was listening to the life teeming around her; life that had no idea what little secret lay behind the open balcony door just above their heads.

The diner filled quickly and when the little bell over the door rang again, David looked up as something or someone caught his eye—and stared. Lissa frowned and nudged his foot under the table, but it seemed to have no effect. Turning her head slightly, she saw what held his fascination.

A man and a woman had entered and were making their way down the aisle toward them. With her straight, long blonde hair and svelte figure, the woman was a walking goddess. Her dark heels were at least six inches high – which just about matched the length of her navy blue skirt.

But while Lissa acknowledged the beauty of the woman, it was the man who followed that held her eye. Even though the woman’s heels made her tall, the male behind her still towered a full head above her, his broad chest and commanding bearing daring Lissa to look away. His neatly trimmed wavy black hair fell in small curls just long enough to give a girl something to run her fingers through. His round face sported a small goatee and neatly trimmed mustache. The very image of a Gypsy king come to life.

The diner was full and every eye watched the couple as they made their way along the narrow aisle. No seats were left and when the waitress apologized and told them they’d have to wait, the gentleman, without turning his gaze from Lissa, told the server in a smooth voice, “That won’t be necessary. I’m sure this nice couple will share their booth with us, will you not?”  

There was a faint accent in his quiet, baritone voice, but Lissa could not place it. She tore her eyes away to signal ‘no!’ to David, but he was already moving over and letting the woman slide in next to him. The blonde made an odd little movement, then settled next to Lissa’s husband and smiled across the table at her. Lissa smiled weakly in return, while glaring at her husband. What was he doing?

“Please, by all means … we are happy to share the table.” David tore his eyes away from the blonde beauty just long enough to dismiss the waitress. But anything further was cut off as he watched the goddess flip up her short skirt and place her naked rear end on the vinyl seat cover. He knew was ogling, but he just couldn’t stop. It wasn’t every day that a beautiful woman just walked into your life and showed you her ass.

David’s entranced absorption of the blonde goddess’ actions made her male companion smile. He watched his partner and when her soft blue eyes met his and she nodded, he knew she wanted to play. While he spoke English extremely well, he let his rich baritone affect more of an accent than usual as he made his apologies to the couple whose booth they had invaded.

“Thank you, sir, you have saved my lovely Adora from having to stand so long in her shoes. They make her sexy, do they not?” He put out his left hand and Lissa caught sight of a large gold signet ring on his forefinger—but no wedding band a little further along. The woman he called Adora smiled at him and placed her hand in his. The image of her slender and delicate hand in his larger and rougher one made Lissa’s heart skip a beat as she recognized their poetic contrast: he was night; she was day.

David’s mouth was dry and he hurriedly sipped from his water glass to cover the fact that this man’s girlfriend had given him a hard on—an amazing accomplishment, considering he just had sex with his wife not an hour before. “Yes,” he finally managed. “Yes, her shoes, I mean, your shoes are very sexy.” He tried not to look down, but the woman’s tight shirt barely covered her bosom and her cleavage just cried out to for a quick glance.

“Oh, David, really!” scolded Lissa, totally embarrassed by her husband’s obvious fascination with the blonde, but more embarrassed by her own internal reactions to the man beside her. Her panties were soaked and her pussy was open and aching, right there in the restaurant. For crying out loud, she was a married woman!

“Methinks my Adora likes your husband’s attentions, even as you are not sure you appreciate mine, my dear woman. Permit me to introduce myself. I am Master Richard.”

If the man were not sitting so close to her and so obviously exuding sex appeal all over the place, Lissa might have laughed at the Hollywood movie tone the man affected. And what was up with the ‘Master’ title? All the man needed was an opera cape with red satin lining and the picture would be complete. He already was dressed in the suit. All right, so he wasn’t wearing a white tie and tails, but a nice three-piece, well-cut, black, very sexy suit.

His left hand occupied with Adora, Richard now held out his right to Lissa, palm up in a gesture of peace. He noted how the woman beside him shrank away, careful to not touch him with any part of her body, and waited until she extended her own hand, noting she was unable, or unwilling, to meet his eyes. Master Richard gently took her hand in his, turning it and bringing it to his lips. The kiss on the back of her hand intentionally put her off balance.

Lissa knew she should not sit here and hold hands with a perfect stranger, no matter how sexy he was. Even knowing she should pull her hand away, she remained still, letting him touch her.

“Pleased to meet you,” she murmured, more out of habit than real pleasure.

Richard decided to let the pretty dark-haired woman off the hook, turning to the gentleman across from her. “Sir, you have met Adora, my beloved. And I have introduced myself. Is it not the custom for you to now introduce your wife and yourself?” There was a hint of amusement in his voice, since the man was still entranced with his companion.

“Oh! Erm, yes, of course.” David cleared his throat and shook his head, trying desperately to bring his mind back under control and focus on something other than the extremely sexy woman beside him. “I’m David Patterson – this is my wife, Lissa.”

“Enchanted.” Richard released Adora’s hand, but still held Lissa’s; he turned it over to place a tender kiss on her palm. His eyes held hers, never leaving her face; Lissa felt her soul was open to the man’s inspection. An absurd thought ran through her head that perhaps the man really was the King of the Gypsies and she smiled at the absurdity.

“Ah! Your lady smiles and the world is lighted with happiness."


That's it! The ebook is available here from the Kindle, here from the Nook, and here for all ebook formats (including the Kindle and the Nook!).


Diana

Today was not a wasted day.

I have to keep telling myself that. I didn't write a single word, I didn't write anything down on paper or type anything into the computer. I did only a single load of laundry and I did run the dishwasher.

And then I sat in the air conditioning of my study and played solitaire on the computer for several hours, going over my current work in progress, trying out plot points in my head, exploring characters by taking them down this path, then backing up and trying another. Playing solitaire keeps my hands and one part of my brain busy, allowing the creative side of my brain to daydream plots to my heart's content.

Since Sunday afternoon I've written over seven thousand words on a brand-new story. I only wrote 600 words yesterday because I could feel it veering off track. But I didn't know how or where it had gone astray. I thought about opening the file and giving it a go today, but now I'm glad I didn't. In all my "daydreaming" today, I think I have it figured out and tomorrow I will hack and slash, rewrite and wrestle this puppy onto the right track.

So today was not a wasted day. Really.

Play safe,

Diana

WARNING: long and serious blog post alert!

What is the relationship between inspiration and research? Does inspiration move us to learn? Or does our learning inform our inspiration? Which came first, the chicken or the egg?

I’ve been thinking about the relationship between the two concepts quite a bit lately. In fact, I’m writing this sitting in Gracie O’Malley’s Pub in Toronto, Canada, just a block behind the Princess of Wales Theatre where, in another hour, I’m going to go see Hugh Jackman’s one-man concert. I’m sipping a Guinness, eating teriyaki chicken wings and debating the heavier questions of creativity.

Asking the questions may be moot – in the long run, does it really matter? As long as creation takes place, who cares about the details? And yet I can’t help chasing down some stray thoughts as I look down the street to the stage door and know inspiration awaits on just the other side.

Toni Morrison once said, “I don’t wait to be struck by lightning and I don’t need certain slants of light to write.” That, more than any other philosophy, has guided my own beliefs about creating a novel. If I waited for the flash of inspiration all the time, I’d never get anything written.

In that way, being an author isn’t that much different from being an electrician. We each learn our trade and how to use the tools, then we go on to use our knowledge and skills to create light (or enlightenment). Sometimes we even create art.

But what about the Muses? The ancient Greeks definitely saw inspiration—that sudden flash of insight or brilliant idea—as coming from the outside. It wasn’t controllable. Either the Muses visited you—or they didn’t. It wasn’t YOU who held brilliance, it was the gods who gave it to you when and if they saw fit.

So where does that leave me?

(Imagine a long pause to sip stout and eat a wing or two as I gaze out the window and down to the stage door. Is he already inside warming up? What might those preparations look like? Will he be as  an incredible performer as I want him to be? I finish the wings, clean my fingers and take up my pen again.)

I tend to think of inspiration as internal. The talent to do something with the inspiration is a gift from God (I can be inspired to paint, but I haven’t the talent. As a result the best, most wonderful painting I can ever paint is a blank canvas because I look at that whiteness and see the painting in my head. Every detail, every line, every color. But the moment I put brush to canvas and make the very first stroke, it’s wrong and the painting is ruined. It’s okay. I’m not a painter. Or at least, not one with canvas. I paint with words. That’s my gift.).

But talent isn’t inspiration. I can also have all the talent in the world and never do anything with it. I can be a great singer who decides to keep my mouth shut, to hide my light, as it were.

To me, inspiration is a way of looking. It’s a way of seeing the world, of being open to possibilities that lead to those insights or ideas. If you aren’t looking, how will you see it when it does occur?

Thomas Edison considered it a wasted day if he didn’t invent at least one new thing while at work. He didn’t wait around for a bolt from the blue to point him in the right direction. He looked at the research he’d done, thought about where it could go next—and invented.

And that brings me back to my original question: What is the relationship between inspiration and research? If I’m researching bondage positions on the web and see a picture of a position I find intriguing, then use that position in a scene I’m writing, can I honestly say I’ve been inspired? My methods are methodical, precise and analytical in both the research and in writing the description. There was no flash, no gestalt moment of understanding. There was cold research and hot writing. Moving from one to the other is the talent, the art.

When I watch Mr. Jackman’s concert tonight and decide my next hero will fit the character sketch of him that I will draw, is that inspiration? Or is going to this concert research? Can I convince the IRS I should be able to deduct the price of the ticket because I’m here in a professional capacity? I suspect my attendance is a little of both.

In the end, the area between inspiration and hard research is several shades of gray. It exists both inside me and outside in the pictures I see, in the people I watch. For me, there are very few flashes of lightning because I’m inspired by so much.

It’s a great way to make a living.

Play safe!

Diana

PS. I’m including a pic I took after the show. Yes, I stood outside at the stage door. Yes, I got an autograph. Yes, I gave into indulgence and let myself be a stage-struck dork. After the pic is the character sketch I wrote. Who knows? Maybe you’ll see him soon in a yet-to-be-written novel!

Short character sketch of Hugh Jackman; entitled “Public Perceptions”

(some of the following is also based on the episode of “Punk’d” where he was set up)

Eyes wide, the corners crinkle almost closed in laughter and

            cheeks ripple into dimples

A new soul

eager

impressionable

wants to learn

hungry to do more

Slow to anger; it shows in his hands first.

Hands that hold a child, comfort a friend, make a fist.

Protective.

A dichotomy, a puzzle

            A man’s man – won’t throw the first punch but will follow with a wicked left

            A woman’s man—the alpha male with a caring heart

Breaks classification. Defies tradition and stays out of the box.

Pushes his limits, tries new ideas.

Mr. Jackman

Timeless Love excerpts

Now available -- Timeless Love, a collection of four sweet romance short stories by me, Diana Hunter :) Long-time readers of the blog probably figured out I had ulterior motives in asking about ebook pricing and genre-hopping -- you were right!

From meeting to dating, from marriage to the end of life, the four couples in these four short stories show us that love truly is timeless. Timeless Love contains the following short pieces:

Love at Third Sight—Is it possible to fall in love at first sight? How about second? For Diana, the third time she saw Steve, she knew he was the man she was destined to marry.

Secret Signs— This short piece began life as a scene in Secret Submission that ended up being cut. Here it is now, developed into its own little romantic story.

Gorilla Love—Inspired by a trip to the zoo, this very short story captures a tiny slice of married life.

One Last Dance—True love lives forever, even as our bodies age and fail. 

Secret Signs has never been published; the other three were available briefly at Scribd. Here they are now in one volume for one low price. I thought about selling each individually, but ultimately decided to bundle them together because Secret Signs and Gorilla Love are pretty short. The other two make up for it, though!

Timeless Love is available at Amazon and at Smashwords for all ebook platforms. 

WARNING: Timeless Love is a sweet romance! If you're looking for Diana's kinkier, erotic romance, please visit her site at http://www.dianahunter.net for hot excerpts and purchasing information.

First of all, thank you to all who participated in the survey over at the Sizzling Scribes. That poll is now closed and here are the results:

What is the highest you'll pay for a short story?

You’re all over the board on this one. 9% say you’ll pay nothing; you want it free. 9% say the top you’ll pay is $.49, which is almost free. I'd lump them together and say 18% really don't want to pay anything for a short story. NOTE: I did not define any set length in the definition of "short story."

27% say you’ll pay up to $1.99, but the majority -- 55% -- weighed in at $.99 being the top dollar for a short story.

What is the highest price you'll pay for a novella?

27% said $1.99

46% said $2.99

18% said $3.99

9%   said $4.99

Looks like the $1.99-2.99 range has it for a novella.

What is the highest price you'll pay for a full-length novel?

This was evenly split between $4.99 (5 votes) and $9.99 (6 votes). NO ONE voted for less money ($9.99 was the highest price I listed)

What ebook format do you prefer?

Kindle won, hands down. 73%

next came .pdf at 37%

the Nook got one vote

Since several of us Scribes are in the process of moving some of our older works into the self-published realm, your feedback is greatly appreciated!

Play safe,

Diana

Thanks to the few who gave me some feedback on the short story pricing. I gave that info the the Scribes and we're now asking for a little more information regarding other book lengths. Head on over and take the 4-question survey. Its open from now until Sunday.

Play safe,

Diana

A minor deviation from the norm today, just because I found this and want to share...

For those of you who don't know, I love the Myst games. I'm a member of the MystOnline community (name: Wisteria) and can be found lurking in Uru. This clip is from Myst: Revelation. While the puzzles in this segment of the series are perhaps the most difficult, the storyline is the most poignant. This song by Peter Gabriel appears in one of the segments and is one of my favorites. Enjoy!

Much has been written in the past few weeks about the pricing structure of ebooks. Three blogs I follow have all weighed in on the future of publishing and what it means for readers.

 Bob Mayer has a good discussion of the matter over at Write it Forward. He poses some basic questions: what is the inherent value in owning an ebook? How much would you pay for an ebook vs. a print book? Michael Stackpole comes at the topic from another angle, discussing that some readers look at print materials as souvenirs rather than separate entities. They own the ebook, now want the print book (usually signed) to show off to their friends. And Dean Wesley Smith has some rather strong (!) words for traditional publishers and authors who feel that's the only way to publish.

These three (and others) have really gotten me thinking about the short stories that are sitting on my computer pretty much doing nothing but nagging at me. The characters want their stories out there. Because they're short, they'll never make it with an outside publisher. The pieces need formatting and I'd have to get someone to design some snazzy covers, but that's do-able. So why not self-publish?

Faithful readers of the blog know that I've played with this concept before on Scribd (a failure, I'm afraid. Love the concept but the site doesn't get enough traffic. Now the Kindle...). 

The biggest question is in the pricing. And so I ask you: for a single short story (less than 2000 words) -- what is your top price? 99 cents? 49 cents? A buck-fifty? What would YOU pay for a short? PLEASE use the poll below and help a writer out!

(EDIT June 8th: POLL is closed. Hopefully the blog's formatting will now return to it's natural state...)

THANK YOU!

Play safe :)
Diana
PS. See the +1 at the top of the page? Click it to give me chops in Google Search :)
PPS. Okay, something I did goofed up my template. Bear with the whiteness until I figure it out!

I know, two posts in one week. Try not to faint :). But it seems things are happening all at once, so read on!

First up, if you are getting emails from diana@dianahunter.net that are trying to sell you penis enlargers or trips to Cancun, that are touting the health benefits of ginkgo or trying to set you up with a lovely woman from Russia...they are not from me. My email's been hacked and I'm in the process of setting up a new one and moving all my honest mail to the new address. The old email will be active for another few weeks while I sort things out. I apologize for the inconvenience and the spam in the meantime. :(

On the upside, yesterday I was named one of the first Book Island Laureates! Many of you know I've been active in Second Life since October 2006, giving live readings from my works, offering writing workshops, and managing several shops that promote my writings. Book Island is a spot that is home to many writers and over the years has hosted the first SL Book Fairs (modeled after the BEA just finishing in NYC), provided critique sessions, writing workshops, book talks and more. I've had a shop there since the start (with only a brief hiatus when funds ran short. Darn economy!) and have made many friends. I am humbled and honored to be named one of the first two laureates. I haven't stopped grinning for the past twenty-four hours!

Another piece of good news: I've been interviewed by Fallen Angels Review site...they're such a fun group of people there! A special thanks to Tammy who gave me some very cool questions to ponder. You can read more about Tales from the Ramayana and Love in the Afternoon there...as well as find out where I'd go to write my next novel if money was no barrier.

And lastly, I'm awaiting the latest edits for Services Rendered, my next full-length novel for Ellora's Cave. I've seen the cover and let me tell you...it fits the book perfectly. In fact, this is quickly becoming one of my favorite-ist covers of all! Just wait till you see it :).

Play safe everyone!
Diana

I've been so busy writing these past few weeks I have hardly had time to read more than headlines at all my favorite blogs, our local daily newspaper, and one book, Kreskin Confidential by the one, and only, Amazing Kreskin. I had the opportunity at BEA last year to meet him (he signed his book for me!) and found him to be an utterly charming man. No, I didn't ask him to read my mind. I was having too much fun watching him clown around with some of the others. A delightful chance that I happened to be passing his booth and saw him sitting there, chatting with several fans. He reminded me of a grandfather holding court, entertaining an entire neighborhood of children with his tales.

His book is a quick read, telling stories of some of the people he's met along the way. While not everyone is referred to by name, anyone who grew up in the 60's, 70's and 80's will know exactly who he's talking about (c'mon, Baby Boomers, you know who you are!). A fun way to spend the afternoon.

And of course, reading his stories got me to thinking about my own experiences with ESP (Extra Sensory Perception). My mom enjoyed board games (still does) and we played often when I was a kid. Of course, my brother and I would always argue about who got to go first, so she'd hide one of the markers behind her back and ask us to guess which color. Or she'd think of a number and we had to guess it. I almost always got to go first because I usually knew which hand, which color, which number.

Only later, once I was married and pregnant with my first child, did she confess to "sending" out the answers to both my brother and I. He rarely picked up the thoughts she sent, I often did. We also had a deck of cards with black and white shapes and she and I would play where I would "send" her the figure on the card and she'd try to draw it and vice-versa. For the record, I'm a terrible sender. I didn't do half-bad, though, when she pictured the image and I drew it.

As you can tell, I do believe the mind has possibilities we're just beginning to understand. Do I believe in mind control? No. Hate to be the one to break it to you, but there's a world of bad guys out there. If mind control actually existed, what hope would the world have? We'd all be zombies doing the bidding of the most powerful bad guy. Do I believe in the power of suggestion? Oh, yeah! Madison Avenue advertising and politicians would be lost without it!

So anyway, that was my reading this weekend - Thank you, Mr. Kreskin, for a wonderful story to read and a fun trip down memory lane!

Play safe,
Diana

Good news! SERVICES RENDERED has been accepted by my editor (the wonderful Pamela Campbell. We've worked together for the past eight years and she is wonderful!). I was a little worried since this is a hero with a huge sense of right and wrong. John McAllen would like nothing more than to tie Lauren Carr to his bed and make love to her all night long. But he won't until she's ready. Let's just say that, when he finally achieves his goal...the wait is worth it!

What? You want a taste of this novel I've been working on for over a year? A snippet? An excerpt to whet your appetite? Oh, well...you talked me into it. Read on!

The vendor came with their ice cream cones and Lauren took a good, long lick, letting the mint settle deep inside her. A slow smile spread across her face. “Is there anything better for the soul than mint chocolate chip?” she commented.

“I can think of a few things,” John answered her, taking a long lick of ice cream, twisting the cone around in his fingers. Yet his eyes never left hers, reading her body language far more easily than she read his. He had to. Lauren knew she was no good at hiding her emotions after the crisis had passed. Right now she felt safe, secure…and sexy in his eyes. She lifted her chin and took him up on his offer.

“Oh, really? Name one.”

“Tying a woman down and making love to her all night long.”

Lauren choked on her ice cream. Of all the answers she’d been expecting from years of bad pickup lines, John’s answer came out of the blue and smacked her right in the pussy. She felt herself grow warm all over despite the ice cream she tried desperately to swallow.

And it didn’t help to have him stand there, looking nonchalant, gallantly offering her a paper napkin as if they were discussing the weather. Her eyes watering from swallowing too much ice cream too quickly, she tried to look up at him, but the sun was behind him.

“No fair. Can’t see you,” she muttered and pushed him to her other side so she could give him the glare he deserved.

Except he took one look at her and laughed out loud. A good, hearty, infectious chuckle. When her glare turned to puzzlement, he reached over with his own napkin and wiped the green ice cream off the tip of her nose. She rolled her eyes and relented.

“Okay, so your answer wasn’t quite what I expected…” she started.

“But you’re intrigued enough that you’ll go out to dinner with me tomorrow night,” he finished.

Lauren opened her mouth to demure, but Beth’s voice superimposed itself over hers. “Of course she is, and she’d love to. What time?”

“Beth, I can arrange my own calendar…”

“Seven o’clock.” John spoke directly to Beth. The conversation continued as if she wasn’t there.

“Here’s her address. I took the liberty of writing it down for you.”

“That was kind of you, ma’am. I appreciate it.”

“Casual dress? Or something a little fancier?”

John paused and gave Lauren a once-over. She took the opportunity to interject her own thoughts on the matter. “I’m right here you know. You can talk to me and…”

“A little fancier.”

“Perfect. I know just the outfit she should wear. It was nice meeting you, John.”

“Nice to meet you too, Beth.” He shook the hand Beth offered and once again tousled Ian’s hair. “And you too, young man. You make sure these ladies get home safe now, you hear?”

“Yes, sir!” Ian snapped a salute and Lauren couldn’t help smiling. His arm was all akimbo and his fingers at the wrong angle, but his posture was straight and his grin infectious.

“Dismissed, soldier!”

“Come on, Aunt Lauren. Beth says its time to go home.” He took her hand and pulled her toward the exit.

“Just a minute, Ian…” She turned to talk to John, but he’d already moved away. Instead, she took her frustration out on her best friend. “Beth, how could you? We don’t know anything about him.”

“And if we did things your way, it would stay that way.” Beth pushed the stroller over the uneven ground, making her way toward the sidewalk that led to the parking lot.

Lauren shook her head. “I know, Beth. I know. I just need more time, that’s all.”

“Time and a date with Big John.”

“Beth!” Lauren pretended shock and playfully hit her friend on the arm.

“Well, you do.” Beth dropped her voice. “And if you’re smart, you’ll let him get lucky on the first date and ride him all the way to mindless fucking!”

There you go...your first glimpse into SERVICES RENDERED. I don't yet have a release date (heck, I'm still in edits with this puppy!) but faithful readers know to watch this blog. You'll be the first I'll tell!

Play safe!

Diana

My turn to blog at the Scribes'! Talking about self-publishing. What do YOU look for in a self-published work?

Several years ago, a historian-friend told me a true story. It concerned two brothers who fought for the Union during the Civil War. The historian had written several textbooks on the Civil War and thought the story of the brothers would make for a better novel than a textbook. He gave the story to me and asked me if I would write it.

I jumped at the chance. Except back then, I wasn’t a very good writer. I hadn’t published anything, had never worked with an editor and only had a dream of someday seeing my words in print. I read my primary source extensively, poured over the major secondary source and, in general, relived these men’s lives for over a year. I even talked my husband into visiting both Harper’s Ferry, West Virginia and Gettysburg, Pennsylvania, toting along two children under the age of five. He loves me very much because he took care of the kids in the parks’ playgrounds while I inspected fortifications, retraced routes, and sat on hillsides with my mind a hundred and forty years in the past.

I learned a lot in that endeavor. I learned how geography plays a decisive role in the winning and losing of battles. I learned how the everyday stresses of being a soldier can both make—and unmake—men. And I learned how easy it is to become so wrapped up in the lives of these men that you grieve when you finish writing their story and they’re no longer a part of your daily life.

I was reminded of this last just a week ago. You see, this year is the 150^th anniversary of that war—a war some say we’re still fighting today (in state’s rights, among other issues). I decided to dust off that unpublished story of two brothers and rewrite it, using what I’ve learned about storytelling over the past ten years. These men deserve to have their sacrifices known, to have their names polished with the hindsight of history, to have the painful lessons they learned recorded so we do not make the same mistakes. Once more these brothers and the men they fought with entered my life, consuming my conscious and unconscious mind as I struggled to find the right words, the best words to do their lives justice.

And now the manuscript is off to an outside editor for review and to the historian for fact-checking. Once again I am bereft, sitting here with a feeling of loss that they are gone from my life. Some of them died during the war, some died many years later. All of their graves are nearby. I haven't visited in ten years. It's time to visit again and once more bring them flowers.

 Diana

TALES FROM THE RAMAYANA is now on the Nook, the Kindle and every other ebook format that's out there! If you don't have your copy yet, why not? These four short stories are a quick, fun read -- and who doesn't like tales of bravery and strength, love and romance? Get your copy today!

Play safe,
Diana :)

New Release Alert!!!

King Janaka has a problem. The time has come to marry off his eldest daughter, Sita, but it's his opinion that no man exists who is worthy of his little girl. Seeing a way to keep her by his side, he proposes an impossible-to-win contest, confident no man will ever accomplish the deed he sets forth.

What Janaka never expects, however, is for his daughter to fall in love, or for the boy she falls in love with - to be a god incarnate!


Long-time followers of this blog will remember the three short stories from the Ramayana I put out last year. Starting today, you can download those stories, plus one previously unpublished story, ON THE KINDLE!


Tales from the Ramayana contains four stories for $2.99, including The Wedding (you knew Ram and Sita just had to end up together!). Currently only available on the Kindle, it will be coming soon to the Nook and, as soon as I can figure them out, other epub formats. This is so exciting!


Yes, I plan to continue with another set of stories. After all, Ram is a prince of Kosala -- destined to someday become king and we all want to see that coronation, right?


In the meantime, get your Kindle copy today!


Play safe, 
Diana

Haven't posted in a while and figured I'd bring everyone up to date all at the same time :).

On the writing front: SERVICES RENDERED is finished and off! Keep your fingers crossed! And of course, while I wait to hear, I've played around with a few other ideas. Mostly pulling out story starts from the past and re-reading them to see if any of the characters are ready to talk and take the story forward. I'll throw some new spaghetti this weekend, too, just to see what sticks.

Years ago, just after the release of Table for Four, a friend asked me, "How long do you think you can keep this up?" She meant coming up with new characters and new stories. I told her that there were so many voices in my head clamoring for attention, the question wasn't how long, but how could I get the time to tell them all!

And here we are, nine years and nearly a dozen and a half titles later and getting time to write is still the biggest challenge I face. I can retire from my day job in three years -- and watch out! Writing will then become my full-time "job." I can't wait :).

On the reading front: I've read only one book in the past few weeks, Vinyl Leaves: Walt Disney World and America by Stephen M. Fjelman. It ain't a light read, let me tell you that! He analyzes WDW as an American institutional structure, going so deep as to take a look at each attraction, restaurant and shop to show how they work on the psyche to create a "story" of commerce and consumption.

I'm fascinated by the entire thing...and I'm learning some new vocabulary while I'm at it. His favorite word is "bricolage" -- a word I'd never heard of. The third time he used it I gave in and grabbed the dictionary. Basically it's a fancy way of saying "mishmash"-- as in a bricolage of stylistic elements. Who knows? Maybe I'll work it into a book of my own sometime!

The footnotes alone are worth the read. He has a wonderfully sly sense of humor that has made me laugh out loud several times, textbook or no. It ain't a beach read, but it is a lot of fun and I recommend it if you're a WDW fan (as I am!). The only problem is that it was published in 1992 and there have been some substantial changes in the intervening years. I'd love to see him take a stab at it again, updated for the new attractions, restaurants and shops.

So that's been my few weeks. My children were home for spring break and as a present they both brought colds home from their respective colleges. My husband was sick last week and he generously shared his cold with me. Stuffed up, laryngitis, aches and sore muscles -- I'm planning to spend the weekend in bed just trying to breathe.

Play safe!
Diana

It's my turn over at the Sizzling Scribe's blog this week. Be sure to check it out and leave a comment for a chance to win a free ebook! I'm giving away not one, not two, but three copies of Kara's Captain, but only if you post!

Play safe,
Diana

Just a catching-up post tonight. This week I've finished writing (and editing) a new book, I've read a few others and tonight, I made one heck of a batch of tapioca pudding. I think I like warm tapioca just as much as I do a deep, dark, rich chocolate. The first one brings the comfort of hearth and home, the second brings sensual, erotic desires to the surface. Ahh, the wonders a simple taste can provoke!

I won't wax raphsodic over food tonight (can you tell I'm counting calories again?) but I will add to my list of books I read this year. I've totally finished the InkWorld series -- and will go back and re-read sections of Inkdeath just because I enjoyed them. I also read Nora Robert's O'Hurley series (three sisters and a brother). They were quick reads since they're novellas, two to a book. She must have one heck of a research team to get the depth of detail she does with every novel of hers I've ever read. Very cool.

This week I've also thrown some spaghetti on the wall, trying out some stories I'd started in the past and working on them a little more to see if they're ready to progress. One did, quite nicely, in fact. I'm thinking it'll be my next project.

And of course, I've shoveled snow. Again. Always. It's snowing again as I type this. C'mon Puxatawny Phil -- bring that spring here!

Play safe, everyone!
Diana
PS. REMEMBERED LOVE made it to #4 on Amazon's Bestseller list for free Erotic Romances before dropping again to #5, but did you know LOVE IN THE AFTERNOON is also available on the Kindle? It's a quickie and is less than $3.00! If you're looking for something a little longer (and a little more expensive) try DIAMONDS IN THE SNOW, now available on the Kindle :)

Okay, this is seriously exciting. REMEMBERED LOVE has climbed to #4 on the Kindle bestseller list for free erotica. I'm so excited!

Secret Submission and Winter Studs both made to the bestseller list for paid erotica in their lifetimes, but I've never made the top ten, let alone the top five before.

Doin' the happy dance!
Diana

PS. Remembered Love is a free read...if you don't have your copy yet...what are you waiting for?

Six weeks into the new year and my reading list is growing! Figured I'll post once a month just to record the titles, but I won't really "review" each one like I did last year. I'm not a review site, after all. I'm just a writer who happens to like to read :). I'll post links to the books (mostly through Amazon) and the author's official webpages if you want to know more about them.

So far this year I've read two works by Chris Crutcher for my day job as a teacher. I've picked up a new course this term and both his autobiography, entitled King of the Mild Frontier (a reference those of us of a certain age should get) and Deadline, a story about a high school senior who has only one year to live. Crutcher's audience is really young adult males, not slightly-past-middle-age women, but I liked both for what they are and will have fun reading them with my classes.

I've also read Inkheart by Cornelia Funke and am halfway through Inkspell on my way to Inkdeath. If you saw the movie with Brendan Fraser, you've seen only part of the book. I enjoyed both and am very much enjoying the rest of the series.

Add to the list The Lost Symbol by Dan Brown and you'll see I've already read four and a half books in six weeks. For some of you, that's pitiful, I know. But don't forget, I'm also writing them! SERVICES RENDERED is now finished and in edits and will be available for you to read before the end of the year (God willin' and the creek don't rise!).

Final note about author's websites: You really should visit them. I found out, for example, that Chris Crutcher is currently in India doing some fascinating things, Cornelia Funke's site has some great fan fiction, and Dan Brown's site is as mysterious as is books (and of the three, is the most beautiful).

Play safe!
Diana