The Way I Write...
Every writer has a process, some of which can vary from a crazy, super kind of discipline to a write-whenever-I-have-the-give-a-damn-to kind of process. I wrote my first manuscript in less than twenty-three days, for example. That manuscript happened to be nearly 99,000 words long. I have never since written anything down as fast as I wrote that story, and I probably won't ever again.
Put your pen to paper and bleed, right? It's something I try to live by. If I don't believe and enjoy in what I am writing, what honestly is the point? For me, there is none. Writing is a release of stress, a personal getaway from the bills I pay, the job that drives me up the wall, and the kids I love with my whole heart but can't manage to go five minutes without screaming, "MOMMY!"
But the process...the process, or my personal process is an odd one, to say the least. I can start a dozen things in one week and never keep a single one. I'll send short summaries to Dixie, or Elle and then never start a damned thing on the stuff I send them. Secretly I think they love it, though. I might love what I do start, then notice they're a bit too similar to something I see later, despite the fact that I've never even read the other work. Still, I can't continue. Usually my marker is about 6,000 words. If I hit that point, and still love it, I can keep going.
Throughout the week I work on one thing at a time, generally whatever short fiction I consider a worthy current work in progress. Two weeks ago that happened to be A Mile High. I wrote that in a short three days, spent two on editing, wrote the synopsis, summary, hook, and query during a couple breaks at work, and sent it in to Evernight. Hell, it happened to work for me, surprisingly. This week, it happens to be a completely different short, erotic romance. One that deals in something I've never touched before: m/m. Male on Male.
Yeah, for those that are familiar in what I write in, this probably surprises even them. In the...oh, five, six, seven...years I've been writing fiction in one form or another, I have never touched this topic. Not because I felt uncomfortable with it, or disagreed with it, but mostly because I felt like how could I go about it, really.
I give props to the erotica writers who focus most of their work on m/m. I really, truly do. I've struggled to make it feel realistic in my head between two human males. And I can never seem to get this whole how a male orgasm feels down to paper correctly, not to mention my work never seems to read the same way to me as it does to others.
Not that that's a bad thing, to be sure.
Back to the process, though. I get two days off a week... Clearly, my work has no understanding of my desire to be a professional writer and won't give me more while still keeping my pay the same. Sarcasm is sarcastic, okay?
On those two days, while handling laundry, cleaning, the boys, my animals, and a spouse that suddenly thinks he's dying over an ear infection, I work on whatever full lengths I have going on. I currently have two full lengths I am working on.
One is my fanfiction. Google duskri123 if you want to know more about me on that. I'm in no way ashamed to admit I write fanfic, and that I have for several years. If it weren't for fanfic, that community, and the friends I made there, none of what I do now would have happened, nor would I even have considered writing. Witness is the fanfic I update weekly, and despite having said it will be my last, I owe dcurley1, my lovely fic wife as I call her, one more after it finishes.
Surprise, wifey.
The second full length I am currently working on is called A Dragon's Sol. An erotic romance handling shifters, men/women who morph/turn/change/shift/phase into whatever--mine happens to shift, though I prefer morph, into dragons. Set in a medieval sort of time where most of the world's power is held by a place called The Center, a place reigned by the Elders who raise orphaned children to be their Eradicators; children who grow up to be adults that hunt the clans of dragons. There's a great deal more to it, but the more I talk, the less I write. Ha, ha.  
This was something I started a year ago and put away until last week when something else I was working on stalled miserably. I'm also touching down on something in this full length that I've never tried before, but it excites me. I am in no way a hard-core fan of BDSM, nor do I pretend to understand a great deal of it, but bondage silks, floggers, and the detail involved in a scene between the lovers, or D/s is something I like, even if I might not write it so traditionally as others would.
And to me, the tying silks in A Dragon's Sol kind of looks like this:
Does it make you curious?
Pictures are always a part of the process.
The Next Step...
Can I say it now?

I waited all morning, slept through the day because I worked all Regardless, it's appropriate for me to be happy and announce it now, right?

I signed a contract with Evernight Publishing for a short, contemporary erotic romance called A Mile High. And when I say short, I mean short, less than 16k kind of short, but it was something that wouldn't leave my head until it was down, putting everything else I was working on in the back of my mind. I'm excited, nervous as hell, and already working on the next one, of course. So, we'll see what happens next.

Fun, short, smutty, and fast paced. It's certainly not for everyone, but if erotic romance is your thing, I'll have more information on it soon.

Check out Evernight, they have great authors, a fantastic reader base from a lot of the things I've seen and read; their covers are beautiful, sexy, eye-catching, and they're Canadian ME...which appealed to me for many reasons.

All of this today...

Prompt Fiction
Sometimes I get bored with any number of my currents and doing a prompt--100 to 500 word drabble--based on whatever one of my girls sends me helps to flex whatever issue is going on out of my head. Sometimes they're sexy, sad, or cute, and sometimes not. It depends on my mood, honestly.


Prompt provided by my always lovely lady Elle Leigh.

Subject matter could be mature, sort of. It is, really.


The fog was heavy, so thick he could cut his hand through it as he rounded the trunk of the willow once more. She alluded him, her giggles, that flimsy white dress she wore showing off cream colored thighs, and those shaking hands trailing over weathered, worn, and well-lived bark.
That's how he felt, now: weathered, worn, and well-lived. Even at only nineteen, young-dumb, and barely there at all, that's how he felt here. Maybe it was her that did that, her with her deep sea eyes, kind of lost expression, and gold crown of ringlets that fell all the damned way down her back to touch the hem of her dress...maybe.
He liked those curls best bunched up in his fist when it shook and he breathed and she sighed.
Hanging branches brushed over his shoulders as he rounded the tree again, hand curving to the base of the trunk as he switched direction and caught her off guard. Giggles fell loud, high, and surprised.
Surprised because his hand caught her under that flimsy, white summer dress feeling heat that didn't have a bit to do with the humidity in the air touching back to his hand. It was all cotton with a tiny bow at the top and tightening thighs as he grinned and she gasped to the tips of his fingers.
"You," she warned, not for one second looking like she wanted him to stop.
"What?" Pulling her closer she stumbled, but didn't fall. He still towered over her five foot, three inch frame like he did when she was fifteen and him too-busy-to-notice-you sixteen. "I've been gone six months, you can't be that mad." And six months was far too long, he thought. "Are you...that mad?"
"Not that mad..." she replied, distantly, stepping back and letting his hand fall when she added, "...but it's still enough."
It is what it is...
I've decided that between work, kids, my spouse, and trying to fit in time to write somewhere along those lines, I have no life. But, I like the life I don't seem to have, also.
Regardless, my attempt at figuring out this blogging thing has been a fail at best, not that I have any excuse. Shame on me. ;) Also, I brought home my new Himalayan Torty Point kitten last week, so she's been taking up a great deal of my time when I seem to find any...not that I mind. She's beautiful, and her name is Blue.
What am I currently reading? Letting Ana Go.
She was a good girl from a good family, with everything she could want or need. But below the surface, she felt like she could never be good enough. Like she could never live up to the expectations that surrounded her. Like she couldn’t do anything to make a change.

But there was one thing she could control completely: how much she ate. The less she ate, the better—stronger—she felt.

But it’s a dangerous game, and there is such a thing as going too far…

Her innermost thoughts and feelings are chronicled in the diary she left behind.
It's a YA, written by an anonymous source, and in the tradition of an old favorite of mine, Go Ask Alice. The diary of a teenager put into book form; a teenager handling the awkward relationship between her parents, their divorce, and coming into her own, however her own seems to come to her. Friends, a new love, and the difficulties of growing up in a frank, honest form that makes you reflect back to your own years. Was this what my diary would have looked like? I wouldn't know, I was too busy doing everything I shouldn't have been doing to keep a damned diary.
Unfortunately, Ana is also spiraling into the dangerous world of an anorexic in the process. And, this one ends much like Go Ask Alice did, scarily. As is often the case in these situations. If you haven't read either, I suggest you start with Go Ask Alice, then Letting Ana Go. Again, it's written by Anonymous, but the reason for that is clear enough, no?
Opened eyes, heavy heart. It's a frightening reality. I love the book. Check it out.