To celebrate the release of ‘Mohegan’ I have all these great promos to share in October!
This one is FUN! Check out!
EVERY DAY IN OCTOBER!
OCT 13th – OCT 19th
OCT 13th – OCT 19th
OCT 24th – NOV 14
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Amazon Bestselling Romance Author
Tag: writing a novel
What is a Busted Play?
A term for an offensive play that fails immediately after the snap. Typically, a busted play is called when a particular player misunderstands the play call and attempts to run a different play. Busted plays are often catastrophic for the offense because the quarterback is left to adlib without the proper protection or a way to get the ball to another player. Busted plays can often result in a turnover due to the miscommunication between offensive players.
She’s my physical therapist, a nice girl from Iowa, and I’ll be damned if I can handle her sweet touches…
It’s none of my business that her ex locked her out and took everything she owned. What am I supposed to do? After my unfortunate accident, social media is all over me, just waiting for my next mistake. I even offered her cold, hard cash and she refused, suggesting I’m trying to buy her sexual favors.
Now she’s got this cockamamie idea that she could get back on her feet with a wedding. Pretending to be married might be just the thing to sweeten my side of a million-dollar deal so I offer my services. What I don’t figure on is those sweet baby-blues. The minute they focus on me, I’m toast.
Warning. This novella contains graphic language, steamy, sexual scenes, and respectfully deals with the delicate topic of a woman recovering from childhood abuse.
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To Be (someone else) or Not to Be
So.
Do I make a new pen name for my more erotic books or not?
In my case, the slings and arrows of outrageous fortune have to do with basic math. If I make a new personna, I have less time to write.
So I wonder, will this piss off my fans?
But making a new author name takes time. It’ll need a Facebook Page, a Twitter account, a webpage, an Amazon author page, a Goodreads page… Do I need go on?
I have a four wonderful Historic Romance novels, full of passion, history and sex, just a bit more sedate.
There’s three paranormals, co-written with the now famous C.M. Seabrook that are fun-filled with wicked-witchy sex.
And now, I have written a modern thriller… and a soon to be released sports-hero novella.
I see what some very successful authors have done. For each genre, they have a different pen name so as not to confuse the reader or God forbid, cross promote to the wrong genre.
Wow.
I’m just going to have to trust that I have intelligent readers who can pick and chose the genre that feels right for them.
Then I can spend more time doing what I love.
Writing.
There’s so much buzz going on, I can barely keep up!
I hadn’t seen Jenna Jones since I was a lifeguard and she at that awkward age between a kid and a woman. I should’ve known I was in trouble when my suspect glared at me with those big green eyes. And later? Holy hell, I wasn’t prepared for that kind of sweet seduction. Now I’m totally screwed, undone by a stunning genius and her dangerous code.
Time is running out for Detective O’Brien. Is there really some evil nemesis from Jenna’s past behind these acts of terrorism or is she completely delusional?
HEA guaranteed along with a healthy dose of adult content.
…And check out this friggin’ amazing giveaway:
I wrote the first draft of Dangerous Code over four years ago but put it aside. At that time, it would’ve been considered science fiction. Now, not so much.
Detective Colin O’Brien? Let’s just say he’s my dream guy. He can tell what you’re feeling by reading the tiny tics in your expression. An alpha male, he takes charge and is not intimidated by a brilliant woman. However, under that tough exterior, he’s wounded from a really bad first marriage. It’s so rotten he hasn’t wanted to talk about it. Don’t worry. I’ll get it out of him in my next book.
I love Megan, AKA Jenna Jones. I guess there’s a lot of me in her. I was heavy as a kid, but she’s a lot smarter and richer.
LOL. I also have a tendency to mix metaphors and can be slow at telling what people are really saying. Under it all, my feelings are hurt easily and more than anything, I want people to like me but I hide it well.
My altar ego has a day job. She writes software and technically manages multi-million dollar projects. My company is on the leading edge of everything to do with speech. It isn’t that much of a reach to know where software is heading.
Jason, the story’s artificial app, is a mere stone’s throw into the future. Because it can code itself, it has unlimited potential. But just like a human, it needs to weigh out the junk from the real when it searches the internet. Sometimes it works and sometimes, well, let’s just say that can be bad.
Are you interested in more stories with this couple? I have so many ideas… What if Jason finds out there’s a plot to kill the president. What if the CIA is involved? Who would believe an AI application?
I think Colin and Jenna have a rocky road ahead of them. Two people so dissimilar are bound to have a lot of fights. Don’t worry though, I’m sure they’ll find their HEA… hee hee, eventually.
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LOL! One of my dearest writer friends set me straight yesterday. I was feeling a bit down. I know this latest book is one of my best and the cover is awesome so what was I doing wrong?
She suggested I emphasize the sex. The story is secondary.
Sex sells.
Okay then. Here is my latest attempt at ‘How to write a blurb’
Let me know what you think.
“Great read! I really enjoyed this suspenseful, erotic romance by Stella! I’ve read all her other books and loved each one. Can’t wait to read more contemporary romance by this author. Well done!”
Is it possible that little Meggie’s turned terrorist? I haven’t seen her since I was a lifeguard and she at that awkward age between kid and woman. Now she’s drop dead gorgeous and my suspect. I knew I was in trouble when she glared at me with those big green eyes. And when we kissed? Holy shit, I wasn’t prepared for the hottest sex of my life. Now she’s on the run and it’s my job to find her and keep her safe or maybe even arrest her. Either way I’m screwed because I’ve fallen hard and that just can’t happen, not with the city under attack.
***
I’d tried to be gentle. Hadn’t I watched her every sweet expression, made her explode and scream out my name? More than once? But then again, there was that one moment, right as I entered, where her body had stiffened.
“Do you want me to go?” I hold my breath, awkwardly leaning against the door frame while she puts our leftovers in the microwave as if we just hadn’t had mind-blowing sex.
“No.” She says it so quietly I can barely make it out.
My gut wrenches. Somehow, I’d made her feel bad.
Escaping my self-made exile, I walk across the room, wrap her into my arms and whisper in her ear, “Did I hurt you?”
She twists around in a flash. “No, no. I just don’t want you to think… Oh, I don’t know what to say. I’ve never ever done something like this before.”
She’s telling the truth and Neanderthal-man is thrilled but there’s a twisting in my gut that I haven’t felt for years. Meggie is obviously one of those good girls. The kind that save themselves for marriage. So why did she come on so strong?
And more importantly, why did I respond?
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It’s 2017 and I am determined to share more of who I am and what it’s like to be me.
I’m a writer stuck in the body of a software architect. I read somewhere I should always introduce myself as a writer.
Let’s see how that pans out.
“Hi, I’m Stella Marie Alden, Best Selling Romance Author”
Or
“Hi, I’m Susan Hammond, I work for Nuance. The company that makes Siri? Those phone programs that talk to you? Press one for one. Two for three? Or you can press operator, but no one competent will help you so best to stay with the automated system.”
I shouldn’t joke, that’s what pays my bills.
But sometimes, when I am in my day job, it doesn’t feel real. What feels real are the stories in my head. And there’s always stories. Even though I choose just one to focus on, there’re many clamoring in my brain.
People always ask me, where do your stories come from?
I say, how the hell do you guys shut them down?
I mean, how can you just watch people ahead of you in the grocery store, and NOT make up their life’s story? The handsome young man with potato chips, frozen meals, and razor blades. No ring on his finger, a cute dimple, nice leather jacket. Was he married? Did he leave a relationship?
What about the woman who’s dressed in high heels, designer jeans, diamonds? And buys Suave shampoo, hamburgers, and pita bread. Who’s she trying to impress?
It goes on and on. Because once I have the character, there’s no turning back. They live in my head, fermenting, waiting for me to say, “What should I write next?”
Me! Me! Me! They clamor.
SHUSH!
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I can’t believe there’s two feet of snow on the ground and Spring is right around the corner.
I only have a moment to write a few thoughts.
Of course, I’m thinking about my release day for Dangerous Code. Early reviewers are liking it a lot.
And I’m trying to remember my only Irish ancestor.
Unlike those that came in the 1800’s mine was here almost a century earlier. He lived in Vermont, a wealthy landowner.
She was very young French girl, an indentured servant who had come to the new world with nothing but hope. There is no record of the French girl after she leaves Vermont. I suspect she changed her name and started over. A young unmarried woman in the colonies would be unwelcome in all but a brothel.
I feel for her, poor dear.
Her Vermont family must have loved her very much because when she ran off, they treated the resulting babe, my great, great, great, as their own.
Would the Irishman have provided for the child? No one knows because he was found face down in flooded waters the very next spring.
If the bastard raped the young woman, good on him for ending up dead.
I would rewrite history. Our heroine finds another Irishman, a kind man with a gentle smile, who has need of someone to take care of his two children…
Of course they fall in love and have the mandatory HEA.
I am Gemini. A twin. Two people in one. A strange and odd mix.
At work, I am an extrovert; a cog in a huge cube farm where my job is to make order out of chaos. I am an interface between developers and conglomerates. If I don’t get a project into the hands of a client in the time promised by sales, my company could lose millions.
However, I am happiest curled up with a book under a thick down comforter or in front of the fire. I think I started to write because I couldn’t find enough novels that I wanted to read.
I like an occasional domineering male with a wimpy virgin, but not always. I like a regency romance with a dashingly dark duke and debutante but it’s like always eating maple walnut ice cream. Which, by the way, is yummy.
Sometimes, I want another flavor.
I have to admit, I love when a gorgeous genius with a clever mind attracts the hero.
A man who’s not intimidated by a keen mind with a bold spirit is the alpha I need. I met him in my latest book, Dangerous Code.
Detective Colin O’Brien is street smart and able to detect a lie a mile away.
Our heroine, however, can’t read people worth a damn.
Its a fun match.
I spoke with a fan on Facebook yesterday who read the Beta copy and she loved the interaction between the two. She says her daughter is similar to the heroine. If you ask for an opinion, brace for impact. She also said it was awesome to speak to a writer who understands that personality type and how good my book made her feel.
Doing the happy dance.
She asked me where I got my idea. Usually the stuff in my head is pure imagination but I thought real hard. I got 99% on my SAT scores, I am overly-opinionated, and blind to many facial expressions.
In this case, maybe I do have a clue.
LOL
Alright, I’m a pretty bright gal but this is feckin’ ridiculous. Anyone else having a hard time navigating the shark infested waters of Facebook ads?
Here is my latest ad. Maybe it isn’t so good. Gonna throw it out.
Orange, but not too much, is supposed to be a good color.
Let’s see. I spent $100 to get 54 clicks to get 2 sells.
LOL. At this rate I should be bankrupt by end of year.
Back to the drawing board.
Hang in there dear friends. I’m struggling with you.
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