Realms of the Raven

Tanya at Joyfully Reviewed has recommended Tort & Retort and says (in part):

Bravo Ms. Anderson! Finally someone who writes a story about all of us faithful readers and reviewers, and she hits it right on the nose. For those of us who have careers in a male dominated profession we do constantly face the reactions to our reading choices that Gayle faces. Tort and Retort takes a humorous look at this world and genre and in a lighthearted way tackles some of the most common perceptions. If you like stories about hot men, enjoy reading ebooks and like a little romance and/or erotica in your stories then you have to get Tort and Retort. It is with NO hesitation that I Joyfully Recommend Tort and Retort for an April read.

You can read the entire review on the Joyfully Reviewed website!

Thank you, Tanya!

Matilda at Coffee Time Romance says (in part): Tort & Retort is a quick and entertaining read. As a reviewer, I found this story quite humorous. It takes reviewing to another level showing a different side of the process. Gayle and Tyler as a couple are a breath of fresh air. If you need a short break from your busy world, then take a bit of time to enjoy this book. It will make your day brighter.

You can read the full review on Coffee Time Romance’s web site.

What great birthday presents! Thank you Matilda.

Cheryl at Fallen Angel Reviews says (in part): The way the characters interacted with each other was great in the way their relationship was easy going and believable. I thought this book was really refreshing in the fact that Maura Anderson took one of the twenty-first century crazes of blogging and incorporated it well into this book. It was also fun to read the book reviews Gayle and her friends did. This is my first time reading anything by this author but it won’t be my last.

You can read the entire review on the Fallen Angel Reviews Website!

Thank you so much, Cheryl. I’m glad you enjoyed it!

Today is my birthday and I’ll be flitting about, avoiding any resemblance to real work!

(Archives are on the website, if you want to read the offerings of past weeks)

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Mating Rite
(c) 2008 by Maura Anderson, all rights reserved

Aislynn knelt before the low stone altar, the surface smooth and polished from generations of use. Her ritual tools were laid out upon it, familiar and ready for her use. The rising full moon glinted off the steel and bone of her athame. The hematite eyes of the raven head hilt seemed alive in the night.

She looked beyond the altar and saw the circle of standing stones around her. The familiarity of their regal presence helped calm the butterflies flitting through her stomach.

A cool breeze flowed over her in waves and teased her bare skin with its chill caress. Her nipples hardened to stiff nubs at the kiss of the night’s breath. Her long hair hung loose and the wind gently ruffled its length and the raven feathers woven into it.

Aislynn waited eagerly. Her circle already cast, she bowed her head and focused on the energy of the Goddess rising within her. It gathered in her abdomen then pulsed through her body until all of her seemed to throb in rhythm to the Goddess’ own heart.

The heat built within her and even her clit now throbbed in anticipation of Cian’s attentions and the ritual’s climax.

Her heart leapt at the sound of feet crunching on the gravel pathway around the standing stones. The sound moved around the perimeter of the circle until she heard it directly behind her. She lifted her head and smiled.

“Beloved, I have come.” Cian’s smoky bass sent jangles of electricity up her spine.

She gracefully rose to her feet, her athame held lightly in her hand. “How have you come?”

“In perfect love and perfect trust.” His response was clear and sure. Just the sound of his rich, deep voice with its sexy accent made her grow damp with need.

Aislynn turned and stepped toward the muscular figure at the entrance to the standing stones, awash in the moonlight and shadows. Her hair caressed her back and ass, the raven feathers a sharper note within the silky curtain. Her arousal grew more urgent by the moment until she felt her own cream run down her thighs.

She took a few steps closer still, admiring her mate. She could just see the faint tracery of the myriad of scars on his heavily muscled body. The band across his bicep came into focus as the vibrant pattern of intricately knotted thistles.

His long dark hair hung loose about his wide shoulders and small stag antlers jutted from his forehead, held in place by a gleaming metal band. He smiled and his rugged, strong face softened with a glint of humor.

His eyes appeared to glow with lust and need, an impressive erection jutting before him. This evidence of his need and desire for her made her breath catch in her throat. I do that to him. He wants me the same way I want him.

He chuckled slightly.

She realized she had been gaping at his cock and raised her athame to cut a passage through her circle’s energy to allow him entry.

He stepped through the passageway and she closed the circle again behind him.

He reached out and grabbed her waist in his huge hands. His impatience showed in the way he quickly pulled her body up against his own.

His cock bumped up against her belly and seemed to sear her with it’s heat. The drops of pre-cum dripping from the tip let it slide across her skin until it was nestled between their bodies.

Cian groaned and moved his hips to rub his cock against her again. He moaned again and his eyes closed briefly.

Aislynn reached up with her left arm and drew his head down to meet his lips with her own. Her hunger and passion made her aggressive. She captured his lips with her own and challenged him to yield and allow her in.

Her tongue darted along the seam of his lips until they opened and she could tease his tongue with her own. She slowly withdrew her own tongue, tempting and coaxing him to follow her.

He ran his tongue along the sensitive inner skin of her lips and caught her whimper in his mouth. He eased back gradually until he was only feathering small kisses on her lips and face.

“The ritual, ciat. We must complete the Mating Rite before I can have you.” Cian’s voice was almost a growl. “Goddess but I want to throw you on the ground right now.”

Introduction
When writers learn how to format manuscripts, they typically learn the standards for traditional print publishing and those are not always the accepted or preferred standards for e-publishing. This is due, in part, to the fact that the actual production processes are different for traditional print publishing and e-publishing.

Traditional print publishing often involved editors writing on the paper manuscript page, a typesetting stage where the manuscript was typeset into book format, etc. Some of this is now more computerized but e-publishing is a very streamlined and automated process. Anything that throws off that process can tend to be problematic so it’s best to start out with as consistent a manuscript as possible and know some of the pitfalls, as well as how to avoid them.

The formatting guidelines I’m giving you are generic and relatively standard but, before you submit to any particular publisher, be sure to read that publisher’s own submissions guidelines. Any specific instructions they give should trump these generic rules and should be followed instead.

Remember that these are only formatting instructions, NOT writing or grammar instructions.
Read the rest of this entry »

Jennifer at CK2S Kwips and Kritiques has given Del Fantasma: Texas Tea four klovers and says, in part:

I am not really drawn to ‘ghost stories’. I don’t know why, it’s just not something I’m really into. I don’t dislike them, they are just not usually top of my list unless the plot looks very interesting or the author is one I enjoy. DEL FANTASMA: TEXAS TEA meets both requirements. New author Maura Anderson makes the writing craft look easy with her first published story, and doubtless earned herself a following of her own fans with this sexy little story.

You can read the entire review on the CK2S Kwips and Kritiques website.

Thank you so much, Jennifer!

(Archives are on the website, if you want to read the offerings of past weeks)

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Death Whispers
(c) 2008 by Maura Anderson, all rights reserved

Kate wrenched open the bottom drawer of the ancient dirty-beige filing cabinet and tossed her purse in before shutting it. As usual, it refused to close completely until she gave it a solid kick.

“Ah the glamorous career of journalism.”

A heavy sigh and she reminded herself she was still just the intern. Pretty much the lowest of the low on the food chain at the Seattle Sentinel. Only three weeks to go on her three month internship and it was back to school to finish her degree, but with some experience at a newspaper on her resume.

Of course this job had been a learning experience in an area she’d never expected nor wanted. Maintaining obituaries and fetching coffee had never hinted that Kate would find herself embroiled in a situation that both terrified and fascinated her.

Her stomach churned as she pulled the wobbly desk chair out from under the dented metal desk. A vain attempt to brush the little bits of shed foam off the seat and she took a deep breath before sitting in the chair. Careful to not tip it over, she tugged herself up to the desk and the many-times-handed-down PC.

Her hands shook slightly. Kate gave herself a mental shake; she still had a job to do, weird coincidences or not. Weird visions or not. At least she could do the people in her visions a favor and make sure their obituaries were well crafted and complete. Their last hurrah would be a caring one.

At first it was just a feeling. An urge to work on the obituary for a person not on her list. Once she’d completed the assigned list, she’d given in to the urge and updated the obit for Shelley Siren. Kate had filed it away and managed to put it out of her mind until, two days later, Shelley had died suddenly in a traffic accident.

No one questioned the fact her obit was so up to date, they’d merely run it as quickly as possible on the paper’s website and been happy to have beaten most others.

But it hadn’t stopped there. Three days later, the same situation had repeated itself with a reclusive ex-athlete. Then another. And another.

By the third week of her internship, Kate knew she’d had to go along with whatever name came to mind and stopped resisting or pushing away the thoughts. Instead she tried to open herself, to see if anything made itself known.

But last week things had changed again. Instead of just a name, she actually saw something when she’d closed her eyes to concentrate. Along with the name of a famous musician, she saw just a flash of a metal and plastic.

A day later the body of rock star Darryl Davenport had been found, dead of an overdose with a syringe on the floor next to him.

Kate’s previous resigned acceptance became gut-wrenching fear. Since that day she’d tried to push away any intuition, any thoughts of a name. She couldn’t do this. Somehow it was more than her fatalistic nature could take, to see something along with the name.

You can’t ignore it forever. You only have a little while left before you’re back in school.

Not that she actually knew if leaving the paper would mean her strange intuition would stop as well. She could only hope. There was no way she could live with this long term.

Come on Kate, get it over with.

She’d chosen to come in really early, before the other intern that shared the office cum broom closet with her would be in. Maybe she could find a way to warn the person about to die?

“Yah, and have them think you’re a crazed stalker.” She muttered to herself, even as she realized she was stalling. Maybe she wouldn’t see anything, think of anyone. It didn’t always happen.

Kate laid her cold hands flat on the desk and took another deep breath. Then another. Slowly breathe in, slowly breathe out. At last she felt relatively calm and shut her eyes, mentally ‘listening’ for anything.

For a moment, nothing happened. Maybe it was an empty day. Just as a sense of relief began to sink it, she clearly saw a shiny chrome automatic pistol swing around and point toward her. Then she heard a name as the gun steadied and panic set in.

Katherine Ann Succaro

Her name.

Today, in lieu of an actual topic from me, I’d like to point you all at Ciar Cullen’s blog and today’s post.

Come on - join in the fun, here or on Ciar’s blog. Tell us what your editor does for you and spread the love!

Editors need love too!