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A NEW INTERVIEW WITH MARCUS!

Check this out. It’s a #MUSTREAD!

sorry.. no time to chat… at work.

History Imagined!

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First Sneak Peak at Dark Tremor!

Chapter 1

 

Let’s see what this baby can do. Jace revved the custom engine of his new ATV and grinned. The desert whirled by at 100 mph, he caught some air, and flew.

“Fuck yeah!” What a rush. Better than winning at the tables last night.

Back teeth chomped together when all four wheels landed. He turned the wheel in the opposite direction, rotated his wrists, and his ride sped forward. Sweeeeet. Ahead lay nothing but blue sky, a couple cactus, and a lot of empty miles.

Above him a falcon circled, then swooped low. He only took his eyes off the terrain for a moment, but when he looked back, his vehicle rocketed, full speed towards a woman’s small form. With only a couple feet to spare, he cranked the wheel and held his breath.

Shit. Where the hell had she come from?

With each turn of the deathly merry-go-round, a huge boulder grew closer. Time stood still. Impact imminent. As he spun out, he swore a fissure ripped through the surface of the desert and the mammoth rock sank halfway into the riverbed.

What the fuck?

Another turn.

The blob disappeared.

His right front wheel hit something solid, and he flipped, and rolled. A sickening crunch, followed by an odd silence except for the spinning of tires.

With some effort, he unclenched his jaw and took a deep breath. The sharp edges of the harness dug into his neck and the sky stood where the ground should be. But he was alive.

Upside down, a woman, no, the woman who’d just caused this disaster, peered down, or rather up, and said, “Are you okay?”

“Hell, no. I’m not okay, lady. Look at my ATV.” What a stupid question. Adrenaline raced through his veins, needing an outlet.

Her face-load of attitude and army-surplus attire was covered in dust. “Listen to me, asshole. I don’t give a shit about your vehicle. Were you hurt?”

He wiggled his toes. Good.

Fingers. Good.

Hanging like a bat, he wedged his legs and released his harness. The world righted itself when he jumped onto all fours and crawled out of the wreckage onto the still cool sand of the morning.

“What the hell were you doing out there? I could’ve killed you.” His hand came back bloody when he rubbed above his right eye.

“Me?” Her dirty brows furrowed. Blue eyes glared, white teeth showed, and no doubt, sharp claws hid inside the oversized jacket. “Didn’t you see the no trespassing signs?”

“There weren’t any signs,” he growled, rolling his shoulders. A wave of nausea washed over him and his vision went foggy. He gripped the side of the ATV to keep from tumbling forward.

She rolled her eyes. “You are hurt. Follow me.”

A sweet little ass turned and walked towards a nearby hill.

Before following, he tried to clear his thoughts and recall the sequence of events.

Woman. Bolder. And…earthquake? Sure enough. He hadn’t imagined the two foot gash that zig-zagged across the river bed. What were the odds?

Slim to none.

Suspicious, he followed her up a steep hill, and through the glassed in front wall of some kind of cave dwelling. Figures. The badger had a burrow.

“You live in a cave?”

“Earthship. Entirely eco-friendly.” She pointed to a ladder-back chair and threw him a roll of paper towels. “Sit and try not to bleed on anything. Give me a sec’ to clean up.”

While water ran from behind the bathroom door, he pulled off a wad of paper towels, and pressed it to one eye. With the other, he made a quick assessment of her space. Cheap, but sparkling appliances lined one wall.  On the other side of the island that divided the open space, a lumpy couch faced a fourteen-inch screen.

Above, a wood railing circled a loft with a low bed.

He jumped when an orange tabby landed on the large antique table in front of the glass wall. It padded around a short wave radio, and a laptop, making a dreadful meowing sound. It sat down next to a pile of rough, blue stones.

Jace picked one up and whistled through his teeth.

Turquoise. Beautifully veined. And not from a mine he recognized. Probably worth a small fortune.

Wet-faced, she dashed out of the bathroom with a towel around her neck. “Put that down.”

The gem fell from his hand and his mouth dropped open. Holy hell.

Her newly scrubbed face revealed a pert nose and wide kissable lips, framed by long dark-blonde hair. But it was the damp, white t-shirt, worn without a bra, leaving little to the imagination that had his cock standing at attention.

When she caught him staring, she turned bright red, and grabbed a sweatshirt off a chair. It was too late. His dick knew what it saw–and it wanted it.

Bustling across the room, she struggled with her zipper while trying to balance a first aid kit under her arm.

“I said not to touch anything.” She picked up the stone and put it back in the pile.

“Sorry.” Arms raised, he stepped away, but couldn’t hide the widening smirk.

“Sit down and I’ll clean your cut.” Small palms pushed at his chest, ineffectively, but remained, as if glued. She stared, stunned.

The energy pulsing into him made his knees weak.

No. No. No. Hell, no. He’d only felt that once before in his life and he wasn’t about to do that again.

When he jumped back, she beat him to the punch line. “That is so not going to happen. Understood?”

He nodded, not trusting himself to speak.

“Sit, before you fall down.” Her hands trembled as she snapped open the old metal first aid kit and searched the bins.

Sitting, in one of two chairs, he noticed that there was two of everything. “So, you married?”

“None of your business. Close your eyes. This is going to sting.” She pressed an antiseptic pad against the cut on his forehead.

“Owe. Damn. Stop that.”

Without thinking, he grabbed her hand and bam. There it was again. No denying it. She was a witch, and a powerful one at that. She’d probably be a perfect match for him, if he was looking for a mate. Which he damn well was not.

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Free Kindle Fire 7

Hi,

There’s still a chance to win a Kindle Fire 7!

or a $10 gift card

or a Signed/Magnet Card set

or a Signed Copy of ‘How To Train Your Knight’!

a Rafflecopter giveaway

 

I just ordered new magnets and the CUTEST stationary from Vista Print and am DYING to give some away.

I also am in serious need of Amazon reviews for ‘How To Marry Your Wife.’

Now, I only believe in gettin’ honest review. Y’know? Because anything else just isn’t right. So. that bein’ said, let me know if you’d like to review ‘How to Marry Your Wife’ and if you like refrigerator magnets!

Just comment below, or email me at stellamariealden@gmail.com. If you can’t afford the book, I can gift you a copy!

Fondly,

Stella!

Win A Full Signed Card & Magnet sets

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How to Co-Author a Best Seller

 

To enter the contest above, chose the home page.

What’s great about co-authoring?

Just about everything.

You get two fan bases, your books out sooner, and a writer buddy. Also, there are two minds to create a greater illusion. If you are as lucky as me, your buddy will an awesome writer, and you will get better as you work together.

How to we do it?

I can only speak from my own experience, writing with Chantel Seabrook.

For the first is the series, Dark Vortex, we joined together to work on a not-yet finished manuscript. It was a lot of fun bringing something dead back to life and it made the Amazon bestseller list.

Book two of the Mated by Magic Series, Dark Tremor, is much different. We needed to start from scratch.

She and I were both finishing other manuscripts when we paused to work out the plot. Our writing processes differ, yet pinging back and forth on instant message, in less than a day, Chantel and I created a wonderful story line.

First, we decided on our main characters. We chose the younger brother, of the hero in Dark Vortex and sent him out west.

Then, we had to find our heroine and gave her a unique magic power. We gave her a name, a look, and a background. Mind you, by now, Chantel are messaging each other back and forth in a frenzy. Bwa ha ha…..

What if her mother died? What if she is a recluse? What if he intrudes on her space. How do they meet? Do they like each other at first?

I’m not a great one to write an outline but I always have clear charts of goal, motivation, and conflict. And a dastardly nemesis.

She is an out-liner. Together, it was like, WOW.

Chapter by chapter, we ricocheted a document back and forth. Each time one appended onto the other’s imagination, trying to take it up a notch. We laughed and cried on instant messaging.

We needed what Alfred Hitchcock called ‘The McGuffin’. That’s the something that everyone in the story is after. We paused for a lunch break and I came with a ‘gem’ of an idea. A rare stone found only out west. You will need to read the story to find out more.

I lol’ed and researched on Google, while eating my salad.

Soon after, we had a mcGuffin, a bad guy, a love affair, and a conflict of epic proportions.

When we agreed upon the final chapter, after a lot of stuff blowing up and heated sex. we had to pause for a sanity break. Both of us had to finish our current projects.

This week, I was the first to finish as I sent my third Medieval romance to my editor. Chantel is finishing her a third shape-shifter.

I am writing like crazy, but only have a few hours a day. She’s a full time Mom, but is more productive. She will soon catch up and take over where I leave off. We’ll pass the document back and forth, pausing where it just feels right to pause.

I normally write my first draft in dialog, but because we are a team, I am taking the time to add in some scenery. That too, is new for me, and I am getting to be a better, faster, writer.

We will be done another book in half the time it would take us, writing alone.

And…well, it’s just very cool.

So, there you have it, in a nutshell. We don’t, as some critics thought, have one person write one chapter in one POV, and one in the other. We write as one seamless entity. I have no problem passing the ball to her for a few chapters, then taking it back.

That’s all there is.

Good Luck!

Hope you get as lucky as me.

 

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You Can’t Go Home Again

I wanna go home but it’s not there anymore.
The place I lived has been broken by the storm.
I dream in color, the beast at the front door.
I hold it shut, but he comes across the floor.
I can’t sleep, damn you.
I can’t eat, damn you.
And my nights go on forever.
I’ve wandered on and on, a stranger to myself.
And I should know by now
That I can’t go home again. No, I can’t go there again.

I wanna be whole, but am scattered by the wind
I should be strong by now but you have done me in.
My nights are laced with times that should’ve been.
My days go forth, I fight, but will I win?
I can’t work, damn you.
I can’t live, I hate you.
And my days go on forever.
I wander on and on, a stranger to myself.
And I should know by now
That you can’t be home again. No, I can’t be there again.

The cuts you made have healed a thousand times over.
The wounds still bleed perhaps now and forever.
But I still cry, damn you.
And you can’t die, damn you.
Because just one more time
I want you to want me
to come home again.

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Strong Heroines in Romances

 

“The greatest discovery of all time is that a person can change his future by merely changing his attitude.” ~Oprah Winfrey

 

“Each morning when I open my eyes I say to myself: I, not events, have the power to make me happy or unhappy today. I can choose which it shall be. Yesterday is dead, tomorrow hasn’t arrived yet. I have just one day, today, and I’m going to be happy in it.” ~ Groucho Marx

 

“Man often becomes what he believes himself to be. If I keep on saying to myself that I cannot do a certain thing, it is possible that I may end by really becoming incapable of doing it. On the contrary, if I have the belief that I can do it, I shall surely acquire the capacity to do it even if I may not have it at the beginning.” ~ Mahatma Gandhi

 

And yet we make bestsellers out of romances where the heroine is weak, submissive, and dominated. We may spend seven hours a week, reading, and dreaming in this mindset. WHY?

If you re-read the quotes above and think about it, you might ask yourself, ‘How does this manifest itself into my daily life?’ Am I sabotaging myself?

I believe the answer is a resounding ‘YES!’

I write about alpha males, because, lord help me, I love them. They make great characters.

I write in sex, too, because, to me, sex is a natural part of a relationship. It is not evil or bad.

My heroine is just as strong as the hero, in her own way. She has to work at finding a healthy relationship.

That part of my fiction is like real life.

I had a lot of emotional baggage to deal with, from childhood and yet have been shown ways to overcome. Part of why I write is that I want to share that with you.

I want to give back.

When you finish one of my books, my heart’s desire, is for you to be overflowing with hope, and promise, and ready to work for the happily-ever-after you so truly deserve.

Sending love always,

Stella

 

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Dark Vortex. For Mature Audiences only.

BUY IT NOW!

WARNING: Post contains mature themes, steamy, sexual scenes and graphic language.

Power coiled through him. Roughly, he hauled her to the bed. Her back met the mattress and he positioned himself above her. He spread her thighs wider with his knees. She curled her hands over his broad shoulders, feeling the muscles clench and tighten under her palms.

He stilled above her. The thick head of his cock nudged the swollen folds.

Amidst the addictive hunger, there was something more. Something Zoe didn’t want to speculate on. For a moment, apprehension edged at her arousal.

“Say it, Zoe. Say you’re mine.”

It was a claiming.

He was claiming her.

And she desperately wanted to belong.

“I’m yours,” she whispered.

He thrust into her, working himself deeper, his gaze locked with hers. She gasped and gripped his shoulders tighter. He eased back, then pushed inside her again, slowly, deeply. He filled her perfectly.

“Mine,” he growled. “My mate.”

“Yes.” She was fighting to breathe. Fighting to make sense of the sensations tearing through her.

His hips jerked hard, burying himself inside of her.

“You need to say it back to me, angel.”

“My mate,” she whimpered, feeling a new surge of energy pulsating through her body. A brilliant array of color, pleasure, sensations vibrated through her. For a brief, intense moment, she felt as if her body and soul merged with his, and her senses exploded with the pleasure of it.

His cock throbbed inside her, thick and hard, stretching the sensitive tissue. Electric pulses began to race through her body. Jack’s jaw clenched, fighting for control. He pulled back, then slammed in, harder, deeper. Impaling her with swift, hard strokes.

She dug her nails into his shoulders and gasped. Her vision darkened as she cried out with her release. The pleasure broke her. Every neuron in her body seemed to explode in ecstasy.

The vortex burst sending violent waves of energy ricocheting off the walls. She heard Jack’s shout, felt the overpowering pleasure of his release pulsating inside her.

Closing her eyes, Zoe held onto him and knew nothing would ever be the same again.

She was lost to him.

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Writing is Therapy

I killed off my coworker, today.
Yup. I threw him out a porthole window, the ship’s propeller sucked him in and shot him out as shark bait.
God, what a catharsis. It was GREAT!
I laughed so hard.
My hero in the book said, “Oops.”
The heroine gave him a high-five.
Poor Mohammad, evil terrorist.
In real life, he’s just a pain-in-the-ass project manager and misogynist.
Writing is therapy.
Yup.
I think I’ll kill off another project member this week.
I shall write her as a real witch, who is working with a dark lord to destroy the world.
She’ll have to die a terrible death, don’t you think?
In real life? She made it a point to be abusive and condescending on a phone call.
In that she works for a multi-million dollar partner, I bit my tongue.
I wrote her into my next book, during that call.
Bwa ha haaaa.
If they only knew.
I write fiction.
It is my therapy.
It is my joy.
It is my escape.
A young man left the gym today and made it a point of removing his shirt for all to see.
Guess I’ll write in those biceps, and tattoos, as well.
And my fears, and my tears.
And my emotional issues.
And share myself with you.
You know me from my writing.

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What is a Facebook Release Party?

Funny you should ask!

Chantel and I are having a release party and I would like to invite you, personally. Please click that you are coming!

https://www.facebook.com/events/1093679247343288/

Now that you’ve done that, let’s talk about a Facebook Event.

It’s merely a way to tell your friends and family that there is something important going on. It’s easy to do. Just make a start date and an end date.

How does that differ from a Facebook Party?

At a party, people come to visit, right?

However, unlike a REAL party, it isn’t rude to jump in, say a few words, or enter a contest, and leave.

So, at a Facebook Party, people come to visit the URL of the event. They might play a game, click like, enter a raffle, or post something on the timeline.

Our release party is going to be ‘hosted’ by different authors over the course of one day. This is a lot of fun. There are games and prizes and clever folks. Sometimes its fun just to watch the melee.

We have hired ‘help’ with our party. (In the real world, consider this like hiring a caterer.)

I highly recommend this site below. She helps get us hosts, and sets up the event for us.

https://www.facebook.com/LikeABossBookPromotions/

If you have any questions, leave a comment!

I LOVE to hear from people!

Please let us know, too, if you’d like an ARC to give a review!

(ARC? Advance Review Copy)

Chantel and I are hoping to sell 200 ebooks in pre-sale.

If you want to help us get there, it’s just ONE DOLLAR!

http://a-fwd.com/asin=B01BBHP4DS

 

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