Well, it Doesn't Rain....

...it pours. Of course, when it's pouring good reviews, you won't find me whining about the weather, let me tell you.

Ciar Cullen, who recently started reviewing books on her blog, just posted a "two thumbs up" review of Crossing Swords today, and she has plenty of nice things to say. She actually called my writing "superb". I am seriously blushing here.

Snippet:

If you've read fantasy, then you've read a tavern scene, with grime, a fireplace, floozies and quirky characters aplenty. What could have been really cliche is dead on here. The setting reminded me of the film Gangs of New York, or Oliver Twist. Am I comparing the description to Dickens? Gosh, guess I am. That's a first.

The first chapter is so good, ending with such a bang and a twist, you're totally hooked. Gil is a great hero and Lianon is a very, very sympathetic heroine. Their motivations ring true, their actions makes sense.

I am so jazzed that I've managed to impress two avid fantasy readers in as many days. It's also really cool to be compared to Dickens, whom I totally love. (Although personally, I think if Dickens had included a public blowjob in all his books, his work would have been even more popular, LOL.)

Now all I need is that one bad review so I can feel like a real writer. Any takers? LOL

Neither Bad, nor Unread

Shannon C. at The Good, the Bad, the Unread has posted her review of Crossing Swords and apparently, it was good. An "A", in fact.

Behold, a snippet:

In short, Ms. Saell writes exactly the kind of book there needs to be more of, one that is both empowering and sexy. And she accomplishes more in a short novel than others can manage in an epic doorstopper. Yes, I'll be following this series, and I recommend it to anyone who likes well-written fantasy romance or romance with subversive elements.

I couldn't be more pleased.

That is all.

I'm Even More Neurotic Than I Thought...

Okay, I totally stole this from Madame Butterfly, who stole it from Portia da Costa. You're supposed to tag six people, but I'm too lazy *ahem* I meant to say I hate to bug others with trivial stuff.

Six Unspectacular Quirks About Me:

1) I have issues with food--if I have potatoes left over after my meat and veggies are done, it ruins the experience. Likewise, if I'm eating pancakes or a burger, I save the middle for last, and if I'm too full by the time I get to it, I get all annoyed.

2) I am a compulsive self-editor. I can't even toss off an email to my mom without reading it through twice and rearranging my sentences and adding stuff in the middle.

3) I pluck my eyebrows every day, and can't tear my gaze from women whose brows need work--you know the ones. They waxed a month ago, and haven't done any maintenance since. Also, women who bleach their upper lip--helloooo! A blonde mustache is still a mustache!

4) I have worn a skirt exactly twice in the last ten years or so. To weddings. Even though I wore jeans to my own.

5) I hate asking anyone for a favor.

6) The only people I'm really nice to all the time are the ones I don't like.

There you go. Six things you now know about me, but wish you could unlearn.

All right, I'm not quite ready for the men in white coats, but...

Arrrrrrrrr!

It has come to my attention that today is International Talk Like a Pirate Day. To commemorate this occasion, I will write a few sentences in pirate-speak and post an amusing and appropriately themed picture.

So: "Avast ye, mateys! Behold yon scrap o' wenchly humor!"

Also, "Arrrr, do ye dare plunder me booty?!"

That is all.

A Couple of Things...

Okay, as those of you who are paying attention will have noticed, I've made some progress on The Chancellor's Bride. Unfortunately, I totally cancelled out that progress (and then some) by increasing my initial estimate from 50k when complete to 70k. During the course of writing Bound by Steel and this latest WIP, I've come to the irksome realization that when you have three people involved in a romance, the book is just going to be longer. On the bright side, it's also going to have more sex scenes, yay!



Also, I just finished writing my first ever book review. Check it out.

I Feelz Laik Reel Riter!

So the coolest thing just happened. Okay, prolly not so cool to all you non-writer types, but kinda cool for those of us who eventually want to make some real bucks at this writing gig.

I just got my galleys for the print version of Crossing Swords. For you non-writer types, a galley is kinda like the dress rehearsal for your book. It's the last version they make before it goes onto the printing press--and it's the last chance for the author to make any changes or correct stuff like spelin erurs.

In addition, Crossing Swords now has a second ISBN#--one for the ebook, another for print.

It is now officially on its way to becoming a real, dead-tree book. Yay!

In other news, Blammo was up barfing last night, and is in fine, tyrannical, 6-year-old form today. I may have to sell him to some gypsies.

Hey, lookee here!!

All right, after a frantic week of collaboration, my like-minded buddy Leah and I have got it up and running: Loving Venus, Loving Mars, a blog dedicated women who enjoy romance featuring the hot (or sweet) girl-on-girl action.

Our mission statement:

This blog aims to provide a venue for all women who appreciate sensual fiction that celebrates female/female love and sexuality--whether within the scope of a heterosexual romance, a lesbian love story, or a full-on polyamorous relationship.

Discussion on industry and reader blogs has brought to light a small but vocal group of us who enjoy this type of story, but feel it is underrepresented in female-targeted romance and erotica--especially in ebooks.

We hope to maintain a safe environment for women to gather and discuss f/f and f/f/m erotic/romantic fiction written with a female readership in mind. If you're an author or reader of these kinds of books, and would like to guest blog, promote or review a book, offer industry info or even write a story to post on the blog, feel free to contact us.

So if you all are part of this poor, neglected demographic of romance readers, head on over and leave a comment on one (or both) of the first two posts. You could win one of my ebooks!

Smokin' Hot!!1!!

Okay, it's finally been approved by those in power, and I'm now free to post it. Voila!

<===Lianon, drool, drool.

<===Kaela, mmmm, yummy....

<===Gil, oh swoon!

Told you all it was smokin' hot!

To celebrate this auspicious occasion, I shall treat you all to a snippet. A wee one, mind, with no actual smexing, because despite my delight over this wonderful cover, I am feeling a tad contrary today. And although my mood has nothing to do with you guys, I have no qualms about taking it out on everyone, lol!

Kaela sat huddled in the water, hugging her up-drawn knees. She looked so fragile, so lost, it made Lianon’s heart ache. “Let me help you with your hair?”

“All right.”

Lianon knelt beside the tub, just at Kaela’s shoulder. Reaching for the ewer, she filled it with steaming bathwater and poured it over Kaela’s unbound hair. The heavy black curtain plastered itself to her shoulders and back.

“Lean your head back.”

Kaela’s neck arched, the fine cords standing out. Her collarbones jutted, and Lianon imagined her mouth on them, her tongue dipping into the hollows. The girl’s knees were pressed tight against her breasts, but that only enhanced her cleavage. Lianon felt a familiar heaviness settle between her legs, but forced her eyes from the sight, and her mind from thoughts she knew Kaela would not be ready to acknowledge.

Gingerly, taking care not to startle her, Lianon washed Kaela’s hair and back, her hands skimming gently over the marks of her experience with sur-Marus. As she worked, the girl began at last to relax. The cooling water raised gooseflesh on the parts of her above the surface, and she hunkered deeper down. When Lianon finished with her hair, Kaela lay back, closing her eyes and resting the base of her skull on the contoured edge of the tub. Her crossed arms covered her breasts, but one pink nipple peeked from the crook of her elbow. Lianon’s eyes fastened on it as her belly coiled and tightened.

Gods, what was she doing? Her feelings were premature, to say the least. Even if she was able to guide Kaela toward an acceptance of her body and her sexuality, even if she helped her get past the rape, there was no guarantee that the girl would be remotely interested in any kind of liaison with another woman. If Lianon wasn’t careful, she’d end up with a broken heart.

“Hungry?” Lianon asked, flinching inwardly as her body responded involuntarily to the subtext of the word. Gods, she was hungry. Ravenous.

“Mmm,” Kaela sighed, smiling. “Starving.”

Lianon grabbed the tray and headed into the main room, where padded chairs and a settee would offer more comfort than the kitchen, and where there was no beautiful, naked woman in a bathtub to tempt her. She set their meal down on the low table and continued on into Kaela’s room. “I’ll bring you your shift and robe,” she called over her shoulder.

When she returned to the kitchen, it was to see Kaela wrapped in linen, one foot propped on a chair, drying her calf with a corner of the towel. Her limbs were displayed in all their contoured glory, her sleek, black hair seeming to caress her shoulders and upper arms. As Lianon stood there, transfixed with desire, the towel slipped loose and Kaela scrambled to retrieve it. Her creamy skin was flushed pink from the bath, and trails of water from her hair wove their way down her naked torso. She straightened, staring in horror at Lianon, clutching the damp linen to herself as her face went red. With a start, Lianon realized the girl wasn’t trying to cover her breasts so much as the scar above them.

“Don’t look. Please,” Kaela whispered, her chin starting to go wobbly.

Lianon turned her back, as much to dash the tears from her own eyes as to give the girl her privacy. The look on Kaela’s face hadn’t been the expression of violated modesty you’d expect in a young woman caught without clothes. It was a profound horror at being seen at all. And how could Lianon blame her? Kaela bore the marks of sur-Marus’ brutality all over her body, from the crescent-shaped bite-marks he’d put on her back and shoulders, to the scars on her face and chest from his bodyguard’s dagger. She didn’t see her body as a thing of beauty or a source of pleasure and comfort. To her, it was a constant reminder of an event she had to get past, if she was ever to be happy.

“I’m sorry,” Kaela whispered, clearly miserable. “I’m sorry.”

Lianon turned back to find Kaela modestly wrapped in her towel, hugging herself. “I’m sorry, Kaela. I didn’t mean to stare. It’s just that…”

Reaching up to tug a sopping lock of hair over the scar on her cheek, Kaela looked away, blinking frantically. “I know. You don’t have to tell me how ugly I am.”

Lianon swallowed a startled laugh, her eyes stinging. She shook her head, bemused. “What are you talking about? You’re beautiful… Beautiful.”

Okay, that's enough of that! You want more, you'll have to catch me in a more agreeable humor, lol! :D