ANASTASIA RABIYAH

Resurrecting Roland

2011-10-31T14:09:00.000-07:00

Resurrecting Roland was inspired by a nightmare. I found myself adrift in a huge space station similar to the Biosphere, a self-sustained life bubble lost in space. Of course as it often happens in my dreams, I was not me, but someone else. And I had gone aboard the ship to find my lost lover. Something terrible had happened to him and to us. We had no chance of escape and I was terrified I had no time left, no future to hope for.

I outlined the story within the week after having this nightmare and it has been a long time in coming to get it to its finished state. I hope you will enjoy Resurrecting Roland:

The second chance of a lifetime…

Sarah fell in love with Roland the moment she sat beside him. Handsome, overly smart and full of controversial ideas on cloning humans, he challenged her to go beyond her comfort zone in more ways than one. Parted by his unconventional choices, they try to make a long distance relationship work, but little do either of them know just what Roland is getting himself into and how badly it will tear them apart. Given the chance, Roland will do anything to get her back after he loses her, but will she want him a second time?

RESURRECTING ROLAND
Available at Purple Sword.com

EXCERPT:

Prologue

“It can’t be true.” For the third time, Sarah Cloudheart read over the list of passenger names for Flight 239, due to leave Macree for the colonization projects in Zenith. She clicked the name that had initially caught her attention and highlighted it with her cursor. Pinching the bridge of her nose between her thumb and forefinger, she whispered, “Impossible. This is frickin’ impossible. It can’t be!” With a flick of her wrist, she chucked the notepad she’d been holding. It flew through the air and smacked against the shatterproof glass in her office, then fell to the tile floor, unscathed. “Roland Kaldek is dead.” She had believed that for the last three years. Seeing his name on that list awakened a tidal wave of emotions: anger, love, lust, despair, and worst of all, betrayal.

She stood and stomped out of the room, down the hall, and straight to her boss’ office. I have to know why, she thought. I deserve an explanation. Face to face. No bullshit. No coms. No typed letter explaining why he never tried to contact me.

She pushed open the door. Ellen’s head snapped up, strands of hair falling onto her forehead. “What the matter? You look like you’ve seen a ghost!”

“Not yet, but I plan to. I want to be assigned to the next colonization project, Flight 239.”

Ellen’s jaw dropped. “B-b-but that leaves tomorrow!”

“I don’t care. Put me on that ship.”

Chapter One

Plauchard University, New Phoenix, Earth
Four Years Prior

“I’ve been accepted at Cordilew Synth in Macree.” Sarah bit her bottom lip. Watching Roland’s face, she couldn’t tell if he was disappointed or excited for her. Although they’d sat by each other in Genetic Engineering class for seven months, they’d only started talking about something other than cloning a week ago. He was shy, an overly smart man with mesmerizing gray eyes and thick, dark hair she had imagined running her fingers through since the first day she sat beside him. “Well?” she pressed. “What about you? Did you get accepted at one of the big Corps?”

They stood three steps from the door of her dorm apartment, and she hoped this time he’d come in and stay a little while, maybe all night. His politeness made her want to push past his walls and discover the man hiding inside. His ideas were the most creative and controversial in the entire class, but he wasn’t cocky or sure of himself. He worked and he succeeded, refusing to fail.

“I, um…” He looked down the long hall at two other students, and then back to her. “No, I didn’t get Cordilew.” Roland’s eyes flashed to the low-cut blouse Sarah wore. His pale skin flushed pink and he took a slow, deep breath. “Truth is, I didn’t apply there.”

“Why not?” Disappointed, she touched the keypad, activating the sliding door.

“I had higher expectations, not that there’s anything wrong with Cordilew. It’s a great place for work in foods and new crops…you know, like the field you’ve always wanted to be in.” He searched her room briefly before returning his attention to her.

“You thirsty? Want to come in for a little while?” She stood aside, inviting him to take a chance.

He looked down the hallway as if he were afraid someone was watching him. “I shouldn’t really—”

Sarah took his hand and pulled. “After graduation, we might never see each other again. In case you don’t get it, I like you. I want you to come into my apartment, and I want you all to myself for a little while. Is that okay?”

His mouth hung open, but he followed her lead. The door slid shut. Auto lights illuminated the living area, a small space with a couch, a vid screen, and a few plain, mismatched chairs.

“Thanks, Sarah. I’m sorry I’m so…awkward. I mean, I like you, too. I just…I’m not sure how to act or what I’m supposed to say.”

“You like me?” She lowered her free hand until their palms met. Sarah curled her fingers, and they linked with his. His warm hands held fast.

He leaned forward, closed his eyes, and pressed his lips to hers. Her stomach fluttered. He let go of her hands and grasped her waist, pulling her closer. She moaned. His lips parted. Their tongues touched. Sarah circled her hips, teasing his crotch, completely shocked at how easy it was after all this time of wanting him. Their first kiss went on, deepening into a desperate release of pent-up anxiety and passion. She reached up and ran her fingers into his hair to find that it was exactly as she’d dreamed it would be.

His fingers delved into the waistband of her skirt, past her panties, down to cup her ass. Still they kissed until they ended up on the couch, still locked together, all the pent-up tension between them that had gathered the past months finally coming to a head.

“Sarah,” he said in a low moan. “I’m going to miss you so much.” He drew back, hesitating. “You make me feel like there’s something good and beautiful left in the universe.”

She tried to catch her breath. He didn’t look unsure of himself now. He was her fantasy, handsome, intelligent, and he’d been hiding his passion until that moment. She reached down, took the hem of his shirt and pulled the garment over his head. His chest was sculpted, with dark hairs scattered across it. She knew he worked out every morning at five. She’d passed by the gym and spied on him on the machines, his headset in place while he closed his eyes and listened to audio books. He was a man who never wasted a spare moment—an obsessed, irresistible genius. At that moment she wanted him to lose control of himself.

A Walk Between Worlds

2011-09-01T17:48:00.000-07:00

I began A Walk Between Worlds several years ago, and it was one of those stories that got pushed to the backburner while I focussed on other works. It was recently released from its contract at Amira Press and has now become available again through http://www.purplesword.com/.

The hero, Kolar Darkwing, came to me, like so many of my characters, in a bad dream. He was a horrible creature, raised by evil, assigned the job to assassinate and abduct those his king despised, but the angelic side of him still held hope. That hope was awakened by Minai, the doomed sister of Treila, the heroine of the story.

Unbeknownst to Kolar, Treila plants a seed of conscience and light in his soul before she meets her end. In so doing, she begins the change in his life that will lead him to an unweildy redemption and something he never thought possible: love.

In the traditional spirit of my writing, A Walk Between Worlds is a story of redemption through love. It is another story that touches on the themed Darkwood Forest works of which I hope to write many more of in the future. Inspired by a dream (or a nightmare rather) this story is sure to touch your heart and heat up the sheets for bedtime reading.

Purple Sword Blog Party

2011-08-30T22:13:00.000-07:00

Join Purple Sword Publications for our September Blog Party! Meet new authors, visit some favorites, find some great new books to check out, and best of all, be eligible for some amazing prizes. Email Robyn at promorobyn@gmail.com for rules and more details.

Character Interview

2011-04-30T22:47:00.000-07:00

The authors of Purple Sword Publications, Astraea Press, and Whimsical Publications are having a scavenger hunt! We've interviewed some of our characters so you can get to know them better, and in the process, you can win some great prizes! I'm offering a Kindle Reader to one lucky winner. Prizes vary for each author. If you'd like to play, please email Robyn White: promorobyn@gmail.com so she can send you the official list of questions. Get started hunting today!

Here's a quick interview from Sherri, the main character of my e-book novella, An Arrangement of Three which is available at http://www.purplesword.com/.

Hi Sherri, and thanks for agreeing to do this interview for us. I just have a few questions about your unusual relationship.

How did you meet the loves of your life?

Sherri: Well, I was running away from a bad relationship and ended up in my friend David's cabin in the woods. Nice place to be, quiet, peaceful, far away from stress. I thought David was gay and that I would be safe there. Boy was I ever wrong. I figured that out after I met James.

Is it difficult being in a relationship with two men?

Sherri: Absolutely...not. Okay maybe it would be with most guys, but these two are inseperable. They have a furry secret that keeps them together and howling at the moon if you get my meaning.

What was the sweetest things the guys ever did for you?

Sherri: Sent me flowers. That did it for me. I melted. This is the poem they put on the card:

Every arrangement must have the principal of three: heaven, man, and earth. You are the heaven. I am the man. He is the earth that holds us up and binds us together. Three becomes one and one is three.
-James.~D.

Where do you see yourself in the next five years?

Sherri: Writing and editing more. James keeps me busy with the newsletter he does on the Mexican Gray Wolves. The guys and I like to go for long walks and most nights now the pack comes with us. It was unsettling at first, but I've gotten used to them and know them all by name.

Do you think you'll ever have kids?

It's something we're thinking about, but I'm not sure yet. This relationship is so new to me and there's the whole logistics of it. We'll have to talk about it a lot more.

I wish you all the best, Sherri. Keep us posted if you'll be sharing any new stories in the future.

Sherri: I sure will! Thanks so much for choosing me.

Pigeon Stew or 2011 Year of the Chickens

2011-01-04T09:36:00.000-08:00

No, it’s not a Chinese New Year thing. Ever since I was a kid, I wanted chickens. I don’t know why. I’ve always lived in a suburban neighborhood, never grew up on a farm, but my grandparents had chickens before I was born (not after, mind you, so I never saw them). They had massive gardens, and came from an ancestry of farmers. I joke that I’m from “Farm Stock” but it’s really closer to the truth than I let on. So, why is 2011 the Year of the Chickens for me? Let me start first with 2010, the Year of the Pigeons.

First off, pigeons are a domesticated version of the Rock Dove, a hardy bird that originated in Europe and lived on the rocky cliffs near the ocean shoreline. Pigeons come in all kinds of crazy and even beautiful versions, thanks to humans and selective breeding. The main reason people domesticated pigeons is because, like chickens and rabbits, pigeons are darn good at erotic romance and they're monogamous unless their spouse gets offed or humans fiddle with nature. They make babies and lots of them…fast. Plus, they taste good. Ever heard of squab? That’s not a rare exotic bird like a Cornish game hen—it’s a fancy name for a young pigeon! Pigeons like to live in one spot and if you take them away, blindfolded and in the dark, let them go, and wait long enough, they come back to that spot—as if they have a magical homing device in their heads. Why do I know this? Pigeon poo. That’s right, I looked outside one morning to find about twenty pigeons sitting on my back wall sneaking dog food and pooing all over the wall. Ew. Gross. Really? I mean come on. I have five dogs and their poo to deal with. Now this? Not fair. Something had to be done.

Hubs wanted to murder them, and after several times of spraying blasts of water on the wall to clean up, I admit, I kind of agreed. But how do you kill them off? The plotting of their doom was underway. So, being me, I looked up pigeons online and lo and behold the hated, sorrowful story of this misunderstood and exploited bird that has fallen out of favor came to light. At one time most farmer folk kept pigeons in a coop on their homestead and ate them. The birds reproduced so fast and were good at scavenging for their own food, so they were an easy source for a tasty meal for people. Over time, some of these domesticated birds left the coop (fed up with their offspring mysteriously vanishing perhaps?) and became feral. They went out into the world and did what pigeons do. With nothing to really control their population—BOOM— huge flocks began to appear and take over the world. They especially like to eat and aren’t picky about it. That’s why you see them near garbage, in the inner city cleaning up after people, and hanging out at the grocery store where people tend to litter. So, on to their impending doom.

Myth #1 Rice kills birds. The myth says that if you feed birds dry rice, they will ingest it, drink water, the rice will expand, and explode their stomach. While this may be true for some other devices I will not mention, this is a myth. Hubs fed them rice. They liked it and came back for more. Not only that, they told all their friends there was free rice at our house. I kind of figured all along this was a lie, but had to let the hubs try anyways. Birds have this magic device in their body called a gizzard. It has rocks inside that they swallow and keep there so when they eat grains, the grains get all ground up. Duh. Rice is a grain. Why would it affect them any differently than say oats or birdseed?

Myth #2 You can kill them with a BB gun. Okay yeah that’s probably not a myth, but shooting a firearm in city limits is against the law. Not happening Hubs, go back to the football game. I’ll handle this.

By now, I’m really getting into this pigeon research. There are pigeon clubs all over the world, enthusiasts, rescue groups, even a huge festival where pigeon people paint their birds and have races. One guy drives his birds around wherever he goes in a special trailer, let’s them out to fly in fancy rolling loops and then whistles when it’s time to go home. Some raise white pigeons to release at weddings and events (and you thought they were doves!). Others go to national races where they let the pigeons go and see which one comes home fastest. Not everyone hates them. So maybe, just maybe, I shouldn’t either. Sh. Don’t tell the hubbie. He might think I’m nuts, but I kind of think a pigeon looks a little bit like…a chicken. And I wanted chickens...

I ordered a live pigeon trap online, set it out with some dog food; they really like dog food. BAM. First day I had five pigeons crammed into that tiny cage. So, what to do with them? I whipped up a quick pen from some scrap wood and chicken wire. Don’t ask why I had chicken wire. Some people dream too much or have little dachshund mutts that like to dig up flowers. Anyways, I picked up each bird and placed them in the pen. They’re extremely docile which was rather freakish. I gave them food and water and decided to see what they were all about.

Kids 1, 2 and 3 investigated and began naming the incarcerated pigeons, choosing which ones would be “theirs”, feeding them right out of their hands, petting them, holding them. Oops big mistake. Did I want pet pigeons? Eh, I mean if you stare at them a while and see that iridescent green or purple feather magic they have going on at the neck, they’re kind of pretty in a way…if you turn your head sideways. Hmm.

Nine pigeons later and a huge wooden coop to accommodate them, I was a slave to these feral birds. I let them out. And guess what? They came back. I know it was them because I placed little, red bands on their legs to test the theory. So contrary to popular belief, they’re not dumb. Like any good dog or cat provided free water and food, they returned to my pigeon hotel and even went on to make some eggs and extremely cute yellow feathered babies.

So, no pigeons were murdered in the making of this BIRDS 101 learning phase of my life, but I did realize that I never really wanted pigeons in the first place. I wanted chickens. In November, I set my pigeon guests free (okay a couple of times as they really do keep coming back and the kids felt bad and kept letting them back in their hotel) and now, in January, they still visit but realize their home isn’t for them any longer. They give me the eye from the roof, cute but beady, orange eyes that seem to say: Lady, where’s the free food? And I talk to them, don’t want to murder them, and don’t mind so much cleaning the wall every now and again.

And yesterday, I got what I always wanted. Three little Americauna hens that live in a renovated pigeon hotel. The moral of the story? If life gives you pigeons, make pigeon stew…or a pigeon hotel…or go get what you really wanted in the first place and be happy.

New Release: Althyn and the Othian Dagger

2010-05-14T12:02:00.000-07:00

There are muses who whisper, muses who chatter, muses who speak a little while and then vanish back into my psyche never to resurface. And then there are muses who wake me up in the middle of the night, shake me, slap me, and scream and rave until I stumble to the keyboard to take their stories down. Althyn Laethwyn has always been the latter. I think she's a direct result of my own walled up dark side and agressions that anyone who truly knows me will never, ever see. With good reason...

At long last my evil muse has been released into the wild. Althyn and the Othian Dagger was inspired from a character I invented (she says she invented herself and just uses me to get the word out) in a long ago writing group. We needed a villain, a really despicable, evil, selfish villain who would challenge the heroes and heroines and put the existing lazy villains to shame. Althyn stepped into that world full of greed and she was the most beautiful thing ever, seducing one of the good guys and two of the bad guys, and certainly sparking everyone's creativity as they tried to find new and exciting ways to stop her. What's not to love about a woman who takes what she wants? (Okay maybe a lot of things... Haha.)

This first book of hers is all about how she came to be such a beautiful yet twisted and lost soul. If you're looking for something to read that will take you far from the mundane, get Althyn now at www.purplesword.com where she is avaialble in e-book formats and will soon be for sale in print. She'd say otherwise, but her manslave is pretty darn hot and comes into his own as he follows her from the island of her birth to the Othian Temple where she plans to rule.

What's next for her after this? We'll see how she does. But she's been drawing up plans to hit every other temple in the world of Radaeh and snatch up the sparklies and weapons that so often catch her eye.

Althyn and the Othian Dagger
Author: Anastasia Rabiyah
Available at http://www.purplesword.com/
Genre: Fantasy/Sensual Romance, Length: Novel 60,867 Words, Heat Level: Sensual, Violence
ISBN: 978-1-936165-42-1

So many treasures to take, so much chaos to create. Even love cannot stop her.

After her father pushes her too far, Althyn Laethwyn, who was raised in isolation by her mother on an unnamed island, grows into a dangerous tyrant to be reckoned with. As she travels from island to port to temple and even the watery underworld, her father's slave ever faithful and doting at her side, she discovers her true nature, and what a horrible revelation it is. Love may be her only hope for redemption, but only those who long to be redeemed are offered such a blessing. A truly dark fantasy that delves into the mind of the villainess and follows her journey from innocence to evil.

EXCERPT:

"The Assantra kept many women in her palace, some from all over the lands. They were beautiful, mistress, but…"

She lifted her head to peer down at him. Their gazes locked. She saw the wonder in his blue eyes, the lost look of a man mesmerized. "Say it."

"None like you."

As he stared at her, his mouth slightly ajar, Althyn realized something about herself. Beauty was one thing, but her mermish blood changed what men saw, made her appealing in a way she couldn't fathom. Suddenly her father's words, when she'd found him in the jungle standing over her mother's remains, made sense. She sat up and pushed a braid from her shoulder. "You would do anything for me, wouldn't you?"

He licked his lower lip with the tip of his pink tongue, his eyes fixed. "Anything you ask."

She stood and walked around her slave. She traced his bare shoulder with her forefinger, marveling at this newfound gift. Certainly, she hadn't held this strength over her father, but maybe their shared blood negated its power. Her hand slipped up Lainious's neck and across his tense cheek. She furled her fingers in his thick curls and hummed.

He closed his eyes and leaned his head back in ecstasy. "Your voice," he said, breathless. His shears fell from his grip and onto the wood.

Lured to find out more, she knelt before him and cupped his face with both hands. She sang a light melody her mother had taught her as a child, a sweet, lilting lullaby in a tongue she had no name for…until now.

He is handsome, she mused, thinking that his black hair reminded her of her father. He was more muscular though, not as sinewy or lean, and his skin wasn't as dark. With the pads of her thumbs, she traced his lips and leaned closer, somehow caught in the spell she wove as she sang. The man remained helpless, his pupils dancing behind closed lids, his increasingly heavy exhales tickling her fingertips. What would it be like to kiss him? To force my mouth over his as my father did to my mother?

E-Reader Drawing!

2010-04-01T10:31:00.000-07:00

My publisher, www.purplesword.com is giving away an e-reader to celebrate it's one year birthday. You have two ways to win, and by purchasing books, you can enter once for each book you purchase off their site. Check out all the details here:

Character Growth

2010-03-14T17:18:00.000-07:00

Authors can keep a reader entranced with character growth. In fact it is the driving force behind plots. Certainly a character must go through tasks, must navigate the labyrinth of a story, but along the way a character will grow and change, thereby coming closer to the ideal by the time the plot resolves. That growth is something both character and reader experience as the story moves along.

I like to present my main character's dilemma in the first paragraph of a story. If there is a conflict presented early on, the reader knows upfront what he or she is about to get into. While there may be deeper issues at hand, or many hurdles to jump, that main theme will be somehow resolved by story's end.

Consider the fables as a simplified source of this truth. In Little Red Riding Hood, Red begins her story with innocence and ends it having learned that strangers cannot be trusted. In The Little Red Hen, the hen's conflict is the making of the bread, but it is the lesser characters who laze about only to learn in the end that laziness will not be rewarded.

A character need not be perfect to be loved by readers. In fact, the flawed character is generally more beloved because he or she is closer to the reality that no person is ever perfect. It is how these characters overcome the obstacles set before them, how they grow and change for the better by learning from their mistakes, which makes them someone readers want to follow and watch.

Before you begin a story, consider why you're writing it. Think of what motivates your main character and what challenges he or she will face. Invincible characters aren't that interesting. They will never fail or be deterred, so build in some vincibility. Let your main character be subdued or conquered. Let your character struggle to overcome. Winning in the end is all the more savorable if it was truly earned by hard work and perserverence.

Setting the Scene

2010-02-22T12:50:00.000-08:00

Setting the scene in a story is an integral part of making a story a place where a reader can feel the world is fully realized and believable. Many new authors struggle with how much is too much when they write in descriptions of scenes. One of my favorite authors, Anne Rice, is spot on (for my tastes) at wording in a tangible reality complete with scents, specific details, and images that the character would notice. As an artist, there is always a point at which I must stop or risk overdoing the image I'm creating. The same holds true in writing. When you begin to write a scene, remember these simple tips to help you gauge when to stop.

WHAT DOES MY CHARACTER SEE?

Get into your character's head. That's where you want your reader to be. Show the senses (feeling, touch, taste, smell, sight, sound) in just enough words to draw the reader into your character's setting. Would your character notice the center of the flowers in the pot he is standing by, or would he gloss over the details and notice the sweet center of some sort of white flowers there. A lot has to do with what's important to your character and theoretically how much knowledge your character has of what's around him or her. If he has never seen or learned the name of a rose, to him it's just a flower. If he doesn't know the name of the Parthenon, to him it's a big marble ruin. Writing what your character sees is like writing what that character writes. You may very well known Latin names of flora and fauna, but your assassin who never graduated high school doubtfully will not. Stay in his head and keep it real.

IS A DESCRIPTION NECESSARY?

If your character is looking at the cabin where he's about to hide away for the night to escape a feral bear that's hot on his tail, then you better describe what the place looks like, at least in enough detail to give your reader an idea of what the character sees. Your character may be rushing through the trees when he sees a run-down shack of a log cabin, its mortar missing, its roof half caved in, and the door gaping open to reveal darkness. Or he may stop and take in more details. The overgrown garden by the open door. The worn footpath likely used by deer now instead of people. The broken window pane. Cobwebs. Bear tracks. A splash of blood on the door jamb.

WHERE TO PUT A DESCRIPTION

Certainly you'll want a setting woven into that first paragraph or two of your chapter. Tell your reader right away where that character is. Also, as your character moves about or notices things around him, you'll need to fill in. Next time you read a book, pay close attention to the setting. Did the author leave you and the character in a blank white space? Or do you feel like you're right there in the middle of everything, immersed in experience and a world apart from your own?

RESEARCH

If you're going to write your character into a real life place, you better describe it well enough so that readers who know it won't laugh at your descriptions. If you haven't been there and likely won't be going there to take notes anytime soon, look it up online or in a book and write from the facts you find. Citing roadways or landmarks? Why make them up when there's so much truth available to base your setting in? Unless of course, your whole world is fiction. Stephen King does it well with Derry, Maine. Why? Because it's a place he made up but it's based on places that are real, that he has lived in and knows well enough to write realistically.

Writers that follow these very basic of guidelines will succeed at taking their readers into their stories, which is right where we all want them to be. If you have a tip or a complaint about settings, do comment and share!

Works in Limbo

2010-02-22T09:26:00.000-08:00

I have three titles out in editorial land. Wolf Next Door has been contracted with Amira Press. It's a hot novella about a sweet teacher running from a shady past and the sexy, tall, dark, handsome neighbor she's got it bad for.

Lost and Found Again was written for Sugar and Spice Press's upcoming 100% All American Beef Anthology. It's about a sexy airforce guy and the woman that got away. He's bound and determined to catch her again...and keep her this time.

Althyn and the Othian Dagger is set in my fantasy world of Radaeh, but on the far side of the world, far, far away from Shahzar and the Shan-Sei temple. Althyn is an anti-heroine, a villainess. Her story is the beginning of what I hope will be a long line of her dreadful adventures. She begins her life innocent and kind, but events force her to take hold of the darkness within her and stand up and fight for herself. A true dark fantasy novel that steps away from the traditional romance model, but ends with a sweet revelation that is romantic in its own right. Althyn will be available from Purple Sword Publications.

New Release: The Stolen Warrior

2010-01-12T11:35:00.000-08:00

Here is the next novella in the themed series I'm writing for Sugar and Spice Press.

Enjoy!

THE STOLEN WARRIOR
By Anastasia Rabiyah

Available at Sugar and Spice Press

http://www.sugarnspicepress.com/

Hessa feeds the men kept in her master’s holding cells—men meant for the fighting pits and destined to die there for the pleasure of Bisura’s crowds…unless they are kept for breeding. In the darkness she discovers a stolen warrior from the distant island of Chalois, a muscle bound giant of a man who draws her into a dangerous game of lust she doesn’t want to end. Servants of the Omi House are not allowed to decide their fate, but Hessa longs to be more than what she was born into, and if she can find a way out, she plans to bring her stolen warrior with her.

Excerpt for The Stolen Warrior

When she stopped at his cell, he faced her and stood. She stared, her head tilting back so she could hold his steely gaze while he approached the bars parting them. She reached into the bag and set her fingers around a piece of bread, a fiery heat spreading through her body and settling in her womb. He was the most handsome man she had ever seen, impossibly large, impossibly wild looking, and hardly scarred from the pits at all. She held the bread out. His hand closed over hers and remained there, hot, commanding.

“What is your name?” he asked, his voice low and deep, his dark eyes holding her attention.

“Hessa.”

“And your surname?”

“Hesssa Omi.” It was the name all wards of the Omi House took. It meant they were guildless, clanless, without family.

He grunted, and she knew it had been him when she first entered that made that guttural sound of disapproval. His rough fingers traveled over her wrist, along her upper arm and settled around the middle to cradle her elbow. His thumb traced back and forth across the sensitive skin where her arm naturally bent. “Hessa. It’s a pretty name.” He smiled ever so slowly, but the expression soon vanished. His fingers traveled higher, past her sleeve and ran over her shoulder beneath the fabric of her dress. His was a gentle touch, but full of desire and lust all the same.

She breathed out a sigh. Her nipples hardened beneath her dress, longing for his fingers to reach for them. Hessa glanced at his broad chest, then her eyes searched lower, across his muscular abdomen and halted at the loincloth—which had tightened over the treasure hidden beneath.

“I’m Gunnar Cathwe from Chalois.” He leaned closer, his face a hair’s breadth from the bars, his brown eyes razing her. “Will you help me get home?”

The water bearer’s shoes clopped against the stairs. Hessa forced herself to look over her shoulder at her helper. It wasn’t easy to draw her attention from the man before her. She wanted him, wanted to be in that cell with him. It was no secret why he was in the lower reaches and what would soon be expected of him. She could only imagine what it would be like to have him tear away her clothes and force her down onto the pallet in his cell. If the rest of him is as big as his body…

He took the bread she offered.

Hessa returned her attention to Gunnar and held out the cheese.

He licked his full upper lip when he took the apportioned offering and backed away from her.

“Hessa,” he said softly, as if memorizing her name as his eyes inspected her shape.

Happy New Year!

2009-12-31T17:26:00.000-08:00

To all my readers and fellow authors, I wish you a Happy new Year and all the best for 2010. 2009 has shown us so many changes for better or worse. I hope that 2010 brings us the the upturn of the economy and prosperity to all. My hopes for the world are always for peace and that no one should have to go to bed hungry. May we all always have just enough of what we need in life.

My resolutions are:

1. Exercise more.
2. Finish what I have started.
3. Smile more.
4. Say no, instead of taking on more than I can handle.
5. Fight for what I believe in.

Would you like to share yours?

Update on the Photo Radar here in Arizona

2009-12-31T17:25:00.000-08:00

It looks like citizens are getting wise to the photo radar here in Arizona: http://www.azstarnet.com/sn/fromcomments/323451.php

Cameras Instead of Police?

2009-12-21T20:45:00.000-08:00

This post is unrelated to writing, but is about a topic that may have affected you or someone you know. While it may seem humorous or simple, it's deeper than most people think. With little interest I watched the news and the quick story about red light and speed traffic cameras going up in select places here in Tucson some time ago. Big deal, I thought. I don't speed. I don't run red lights. In fact, I'd be more likely to get a ticket for going too slow. But there's a lot of fine print that the average driver doesn't know about these devices.

If your city is putting up these kinds of "traffic enforcement" cameras, take my advice and read up on what will and will not get you a ticket. Here in Tucson, running a red light means that you pass an imaginary line from the end of the curb to the opposite curb--not the crosswalk line like most drivers think. It can be a milisecond after the yellow turns to red and you will get a ticket. The cameras take a picture of your license plate, where your car's tire is on the road by that imaginary line, and a picture of your face.

Speeding here means that you have gone 12 or more miles over the posted limit. At 11, you're still safe. But who calibrates these cameras? Are they checked for accuracy? Are these even legal or are they a way to gather money in hard economic times?

Beware when turning right on red as well. You must come to a complete stop. Don't slow down and look both ways. Stop. Actually stop. The camera is watching you. If you do not completely stop, flash, and a ticket comes to you in the mail.

Also, a new tactic is movable vans that the police place at varying locations throughout the city to bust people for speeding. Because it's so random, they are likely to catch folks who aren't paying attention.

Before every one of these types of traps, the companies (yes, companies and not necessarily law enforcement) are required to post warning signs to let drivers know they are approaching a camera enforcement zone.

How do you feel about this type of law enforcement? Should it be cut and dry? Do we no longer need real, live police officers to cite drivers? Are they becoming obsolete? Or is governement phazing out an integral part of law enforcement--the human aspect, the warning, the curt but informative lecture to a driver who may not have known about imaginary lines and complete stops?

Then there is the alleged scandal behind all of this. Is the company setting up these cameras purposely shortening yellow light times? Are they calibrating the radar correctly? Are they treating their employees and law enforcement violaters the same as the average citizen? Is this even legal?

Arizona law states that a ticket must be served to the violater. That means that a company has been hired to do just that. If you do not respond to your ticket, a server will visit your home or place of work and serve you with your violation. So, welcome to Arizona. And don't even get me started about the cameras in Phoenix. On a recent family trip there, it blew my mind to see how many were on the highway.

Someone's making a lot of money off of this, and I have a feeling we are not any safer for it.

What do you think?

Check out the anger at CameraFraud.com

November News

2009-11-02T00:01:00.000-08:00

Happy November to all the Readers and Fellow Authors!

Writing News

This month Im keeping track of my writing word count since I've noticed that I haven't been meeting my usual goals. Inspired by November being National Novel Writing Month, or NaNoWriMo, I've set up a little counter on my Writing.com portfolio and hope that will light the fire under my behind to get some works in progress done. So far I did my 2,000 words today! Anyone interested in joining in at the official site check out: www.nanowrimo.org

Upcoming Events

Join me in celebrating the works of Carol McKenzie who recently passed away after her battle with cancer. Her publisher, loveyoudivine, and her fellow authors will honor her with a live chat on November 14, 2009. Carol was the inspiration behind the anthologies Cowboys and Men. She was a talented and business minded author who wasn't afraid to delve into several different genres of erotic romance. I am forever grateful that I had the opportunity to know her and have her inspire me to step outside my usual writing norms. Over the years I have both designed cover art for her, and edited many of her stories. Her very first anthology completely penned by her, The Ex-Factor ,contains her interracial works, one of which was the first I critiqued in my writing group. The story, Taneka's Cowboy ,went on to become a best seller. The chat will be held 12-8pm Eastern time on loveyoudivine's Yahoo Group . Hope to see you there.

If you are looking for a hot spot to meet new authors and pick up some books to read, stop in at this month's Anastasia's Author Party in Coffee Time Romance's Latte Lounge. The Author Party is for any author to drop in and let readers know what's going on in their writing world. There are always silly questions, hot excerpts, interesting stories, sometimes recipes, and many times freebies or fun games to take part in. The next date for Anastasia's Author Party is November 21, 2009, all day long. If you plan to attend and never have before, please download the informative PDF Coffee Time has provided which will help you get started. It's on my website at www.RabiyahBooks.com under the Author Party link. It is very important that you create your account well in advance of the chat day to ensure that you are able to participate. Don't be on the outside looking in. We want you in there with us!

That's all I have planned so far this month. If you need a break from life, stop by my site and pick out a new story to read.

Anastasia Rabiyah

www.RabiyahBooks.com

Carol McKenzie

2009-10-28T13:27:00.000-07:00

I began writing for publication thinking I wanted to only write fantasy works. Through my online critique groups I met a wonderful lady and fellow author named Carol McKenzie. We exchanged many reviews over the years and at one point I was her editor at Forbidden Publications. She encouraged me to keep writing and her reviews of my stories were always helpful and packed with advice that only someone who has been there done that could share.

Carol offered help to many aspiring authors. She has helped authors create websites, given them her ideas about how to promote their books, and shared so much of her experience if only to keep those new authors on the right track. She was a friend that helped me on my way to publication too.

I found out this morning that she passed away not long after finding out that she had lung cancer. She will be missed. I am thankful to have known her and to have benefited from all of her advice and encouragement. I am thankful also that I played a small role in her writing career by serving as her editor and cover artist in so many of her projects. Her first print book completely authored by her, The Ex-Factor, was one that I had the privilege of having designed.

Carol McKenzie - you will be missed.

You're Invited August 15th, 2009

2009-08-14T16:32:00.000-07:00

Hi Everyone!

Tomorrow, August 15th, 2009, is my monthly all day chat at Coffee Time Romance's Latte' Lounge. I'm inviting readers and authors from all over. Authors, we want to know what inspired your stories. Was it an old flame, the love of your life, a stranger on the subway? What caused you to write your latest and your backlist of books? We want to know!

Stop in sometime tomorrow. The chat will be going on ALL DAY LONG and the coffee will be fresh. I'll be hanging out in the lounge waiting to hear from you.

Latte Lounge Link: http://www.coffeetimeromance.com/board/forumdisplay.php?f=435

Also invited are authors from Amira Press, Purple Sword Publications, Sugar and Spice Press, loveyoudivine Alterotica, Whimsical Publications, and all the members of The Muses Three Yahoo Group!

Anastasia Rabiyah
www.RabiyahBooks.com

Life is a Whirlwind

2009-07-10T11:04:00.000-07:00

Whew, I feel like I can't keep up with all the things I want to get done. I'm listening to Michael Jackson and still in shock that he's gone. So much beautiful music that he still had to make. There is never enough time. That's how I feel today.

For any out there following me, I have my hands in too many pots (as my mom would say), and I hope you learn from my mistake in doing that. Don't bite off more than you can chew or you'll be chewing for a very long time.

Nevertheless, I keep at it.

I have three releases this month: Last Kiss of the Clan Dancer and The Skeleton's Shadow at www.PurpleSword.com, and A Walk Between Worlds at www.AmiraPress.com. In each story I do see the theme that a reviewer once wrote I always include in my stories: Love is redemption. She said it right, and I had no idea I've been writing that theme into everything until I read her review. In my life that has always been an underlying theme. Love changes things for the better. It makes us who we are, and makes us want to strive for more. Love is the force that gives us the courage to reach for the stars. Love means that we are accepted just the way we are.

I hope that you have someone that loves you, that lifts you up when you're down, and that pushes you toward your dreams when you feel like you can't reach them.

New Release: A Walk Between Worlds

2009-07-10T10:50:00.000-07:00

Dear Readers,

Today, I have a new release for you which is available at AmiraPress.com. I was asked to write a story for an anthology about winged men, and Kolar Darkwing was born. Cast off as an infant in the burning pits, he was taken in by an evil demon king and trained to kill as he grew to adulthood. A rare cross between demon and angel, he belongs nowhere and is loved by no one. A Walk Between Worlds is a high fantasy set in a world fraught
with demons and tangled up in a three way war. The unlikely love found between Kolar and the outcast Telen princess Treila will warm your heart, and the fiery attraction neither can deny is sure to warm you in other ways.

A WALK BETWEEN WORLDS
by Anastasia Rabiyah
Published by Amira Press

Treila
is the second born twin and heir to the Telen throne after her sister’s
untimely death. Her sister, whose magic was of the light, of faith,
love and hope, was the one intended to rule Telen, not Treila, whose
magic is so obviously of the darkness. Faced with having to wed the Nor
King in order to save her city from destruction, she leaves Telen,
hoping to discover what became of her sister. She ventures to the
cliffs of Plemae where the angels dwell, for it was a dark angel who
stole her sister away, but before she can get any answers, she is
captured and brought before the demon king in the sky palace. There she
is thrown into an unwieldy alliance with the very dark angel who
kidnapped her sister—Kolar, now an outcast traitor for standing against
his master. Together, she and her enemy must escape the demons and
return to Telen before the full moon and the Nor King’s attack. As much
as she wants to hate Kolar, Treila can’t deny her heated attraction to
the dark winged angel despite who he is and what he has done to change
her life.

EXCERPT:

With both hands he heaved the door shut on his former
prison. Out of breath from the adrenaline in his veins, he knelt beside
the woman and tenderly brushed her cheek. “Are you . . . all right?”
She didn’t respond. He ran his fingers over her body to check for
injuries. Satisfied she was unharmed in any noticeable way, he turned
her on her side.

Even in the dim light, he knew her face, the curve of her
cheek, the pout of her full lips. Her eyes flickered and opened,
fixating on him. “Minai,” he whispered, incredulous. “How can this be?
I saw him kill you.” He traced her throat to be sure. No line or scar
marred her perfect dark skin. But her long hair had been chopped short.
He lifted her hand and placed her palm to his cheek, hoping to feel the
light inside her wash over him.

“I know you.” Her voice was low and pained. “I know you.” She
blinked and tried to sit up, pulling her hand away. “Bastard!” She
slapped at him. “Get away from me, you monster!”

He stood and stepped away, watching as she got to her feet.
The clothes she wore were not the finery of the Telen princess he had
stolen. Streaks of war paint and dried tears stained her cheeks. Her
full lips were drawn in a dangerous snarl.

“I’ll kill you for what you’ve done!” She charged at him, her fists curled tight, her eyes narrowed.

He remained still, standing in place to take each blow she pounded
against his chest. The strikes were nothing compared to the pain he
sensed in her. She had suffered because of him. He suffered, too. Their
pain and loss were the same, but he doubted she would see that.

The woman beat on him until she grew weary. Her breaths choked
with sobs, she finally stopped and stood there, eyeing him with hatred.

“I’m sorry.” He shook his head. “I didn’t want Minai to die. I had
hoped . . . when I saw you here . . . that she . . . that you . . .” It
was no use. She was not the woman he had stolen. Minai was lost, dead,
forever a reminder of something beautiful and good that he passed into
his master’s hands.

“Why did you take her from me?” She sobbed and raised a fist again, holding it in midair.

“Because my master told me to take her.” He bowed his head. Her
hand slapped his cheek, knocking his face sideways. He deserved much
worse.

Outside the room, the sounds of hooves clopped across the
stone floor. Someone was coming, perhaps just a guard checking in on
those prisoners in the torture rooms. Perhaps someone worse. Kolar
raised his face. “Let me take you from this place.”

“I don’t trust you.” She glared at him.

“You must. There is no one else, and someone is coming.”

Last Kiss of the Clan Dancer

2009-07-08T11:30:00.000-07:00

Newly revised and with added scenes, my sensual fantasy romance novella Last Kiss of the Clan Dancer is now available at Purple Sword Publications in e-book formats.

LAST KISS OF THE CLAN DANCER
By Anastasia Rabiyah
Available at: PurpleSword.com

This is a sad tale, a reflection on many parts of the world. But it's also a hopeful tale as Rajiid shows what one person can do to change her world. This isn't for the faint of heart but it is an excellent read." -Dee Dailey, Awarded 5 Hearts, Reviewer for The Romance Studio

In this mystical world, a sinister leader has taken over and threatens to destroy all that is beautiful, colorful, and wild. Lars, a captain in Hareth's army, rediscovers what it means to be free when he comes across his lost love during a city wide raid. Rajiid, the woman from his youth, turns up in a tenement house, and he is forced by duty to turn her over to High Leader Hareth and her inevitable execution. This is a tale of redemption and regret. Find out if Lars can gather the courage to claim his destiny, or if his destiny will claim him.
EXCERPT:

He pushed himself down from the fence and approached her. “I’m Lars. Welcome to Caderwir Village. It’s not much of a place.” He nodded to the hills beyond. “But it’s green and crops grow well here.”

She tossed her hair over her shoulders and nodded. “Far more green than where I was born.” She grasped his hand and held it tight. “I’m called Rajiid. My people have come to dance and trade with yours.” She giggled at him. “Do you like to dance?”

Heat flooded his cheeks. “I’ve never tried. Too busy watching the sheep or tending the fields for my parents.”

“Mm.” She walked in a circle, leading him by the hand. “I’m a clan dancer. I’ll teach you to dance if you want to learn.”

His attention strayed to her round, ripe breasts exposed above her dress and pushed up by the laced corset she wore. He blushed worse and tried to keep his eyes on hers. They were dark brown and searching him as well. “I couldn’t try it in front of anyone. They’d all laugh at me. Men in Caderwir don’t dance.”

Her grin turned sideways. She nodded at the hills. “If you would show me the wilds, I would show you how to dance so well that no one will laugh at you. Even the men would stand back in awe.”

He whistled a signal to stay to the dog. Then Lars and Rajiid walked hand in hand along the fence and away from the caravan and village. Her hand warmed his. He felt connected to something new and unexpected. As the high grass closed around them, he wondered what more they would do besides dance. He had only kissed a girl once, and it was a hurried affair behind her roundhouse. She had married someone else seven days later, so he knew he had meant nothing to her. The thought of kissing Rajiid made him anxious and nervous.

“Do you have any brothers or sisters?” she asked. Her feet made whispering sounds in the grass. His boots crunched the grass in time with her steps.

“No. I’m the only child. It was a hard birth according to my mother. What about you?”

She laughed. “So many I sometimes lose count. My mother has three husbands and each demands a son, but she keeps having daughters. I am her seventh child.”

“Three husbands?” He couldn’t imagine how that would work out. “Do they fight?”

“Sometimes. They are all loyal to her. It’s not usual for a woman to take so many. Two is enough, even one if he is headstrong.” They paused beside a small stream. “I only want one.”

He cleared his throat.

She faced him and took up his other hand. “Are you ready to learn?”

“No, but you’re here, and I’m here. I don’t think anyone can see us.” He glanced around, uncomfortable.

She nodded. “Then we start with a basic dance. One you do when you find a woman you like.” She winked at him before she ran her chest across his and stepped back. He knew he must have been bright red from her coming so close to his body like that.

“Think of animals. When they seek a mate, they touch—like this.” She pulled his hands over her head and twisted. Her backside rubbed against his crotch. “Or this.” She leaned her head back so that their cheeks touched. Then, before he could relax into the unexpected closeness and breathe in more of her alluring scent, she pulled away and released his hands.

Lars watched her dance around him, her fingers drawing symbols in the air. Her hips swayed, and each step she took she balanced on the balls of her feet. Rajiid was pure seduction. Each time she came close to him, she dragged her fingers over his exposed skin. First, his forearm. Then his neck. A caress to the cheek. A swipe of soft fingers over his lips.

He wanted to keep up with her. He followed and copied what she did although he was not nearly as graceful. He mirrored her daring touches. His fingers trailed across her forearm and up to her shoulder. He withdrew. She advanced.

Her voice hummed a smooth song that matched their movements. Her body blurred at times. Her touch grounded him. They danced until he became short of breath and backed away.

“You’re magic,” he said.

“A little. Sometimes, a little is enough.”

New Release: The First Kill

2009-06-16T09:18:00.001-07:00

THE FIRST KILL
By Anastasia Rabiyah
Published By Sugar and Spice Press
Fantasy/Erotic Romance

Fresh from training as a deadly assassin, Marin is given
her first assignment--murder Lord Coreth and carve her master's mark
into his face. Confident in her abilities, she travels to Jondah and
targets her first kill, but when she finds herself in Coreth's bed, the
undeniable heat between them causes her to second guess not only her
assignment, but her life.

EXCERPT:Rain spat down on Marin and soaked through her clothes.
She stood in the crowd of commoners to hear Lord Coreth speak. She
tried to ignore his shouted words of encouragement and his promises of
protection from the city’s rival, a Lord Heden. Instead, she watched
the way Coreth carried himself, perched as he was on a high parapet
atop his hold. He was fair of skin, as fair as the parchment ordering
his death, and Marin wondered what it would be like to touch a man so
lightly colored. She could not help her attraction to him, though the
effect was unsuspected. Beneath her sodden clothing, her nipples had
hardened at the prospect of getting close to her target. The heat of
desire and the erotic thoughts she suffered kept her warm in the chilly
spring air.

She supposed he was a good man. His interest in his people and
the state of his lands proved as much. She slipped her hand into her
cloak and fingered the handle of her blade. Touching her weapon brought
her back to her senses. I care not for his countenance, only the color
of his blood. With her mind set to the task, she waded through the
throng of bodies toward the keep’s door. The oak portal was open to
all, though none but her seemed interested in going within. Marin edged
along the stone wall inside, using her shadow trick, a guild magic she
had honed over the past year. She could make herself unnoticed though
not truly invisible as some from her class could.

She blended past the guards and ventured through a winding
corridor. There was little else in the way of security to hinder her
assignment. She figured she could have Coreth properly murdered and be
back on her way soon after the sun set. It was not difficult to locate
his quarters. A high room set apart from those of the servants, it
screamed of power. The double doors were gilded and opened wide to show
off the wealth within. Wrought furniture sparkling with encrusted gems,
and finely embroidered fabrics decorated the chamber. Marin crept
inside. Sparing no time, she hid in the thick bed curtains, glad for
such an easy advantage. Lord Coreth will die in his bed, his throat cut
clean through and my master’s name carved into is handsome face.

The wait did not bother her. She had been trained to bide her
time and play the part of patience. As she settled down beside the bed
frame on the floor, she breathed in the scents of the room. Lavender
and boot oil. Leather. The hint of a man’s musky scent. Fresh linens
that had hung in the open air to dry. This quiet, dark hiding place
reminded her of when she used to hide from her brother beneath their
parents’ bed. He never thought to look for her there.

Midday waned. Her clothes dried out. She calculated the time by the
stretch of shadows that reached across the floor toward her when she
peeked out every so often. By her estimates, the evening meal was being
served. Soon after, a servant entered the chamber. The sound of water
pouring into a wash basin broke the silence. Footsteps padded out.

Lord Coreth’s steps were heavier and sure, the footfalls of a
confidant man. The double doors clunked shut one after another. An iron
slid into the bars to lock out his servants and any guards that might
save his life. Marin smiled. She dared to peek from the curtains.

Coreth threw off his blue cloak and stared out the open window
at the clouds in the evening sky. As he did so, the fingers of his left
hand plucked at the ties on his shirt. He pulled off the garment to
reveal broad shoulders and a fit body, pale and alluring.

Demonic Scavenger Hunt!

2009-06-01T14:45:00.001-07:00

Crymsyn Hart and Anastasia Rabiyah are having a scavenger hunt to celebrate the release of the anthology Demonic Obsessions--available now from Amira Press! Click on the banner below or visit either author at www.RabiyahBooks.com or www.RavynHart.com for all the details.

Anastasia's Author Party: You're Invited!

2009-05-24T16:39:00.001-07:00

Fellow Readers and Authors,

My next multi-publisher monthly chat will be at Coffee Time Romance's Latte' Lounge and will now be known as Anastasia's Author Party! This is your official invitation to attend. In June we will have authors from Amira Press, loveyoudivine Alterotica, Mystic Moon Press, Purple Sword Publications, Sugar and Spice Press, Whimsical Publications, and The Muses Three members. The official date of the all-day chat is June 20, 2009, a Saturday. Mark your calendars and be sure to drop in. We'd love to see you there!

Anastasia Rabiyah

Unhappy Monday

2009-05-18T12:47:00.000-07:00

Hi Everyone and Happy Monday to you!

I hope mine gets better soon. The plumbing is stopped up. There's a mysterious incessant beeping at the new restaurant we're trying to get opened, and it's 100 degrees in Tucson. There are more issues, but those are the top scary ones. Eek. I'm afraid.

For those of you who missed the Latte' Lounge chat on Saturday, be at the next one on June 20, 2009, all day. Yes, YOU are invited. Readers and authors can all come and join in the banter with us. Since these events will continue to happen monthly, I'm going to call them Anastasia's Author Party. This is a great way to connect to readers and for authors to tell others about their works. If you'd like to be involved, let me know. I could always use some more moderator types in the chats. If you want to see what happened at the last one, step on over to CoffeeTimeRomance.com and click on their forums link, and then the Latte' lounge. The chat is archived and many of the authors dropped in links to goodies. *hint, hint*

This month is very hectic for me. Hubbie and I are making the plunge and opening a second restaurant, hopefully by the end of the month. We knew we were crazy to open a first--but a second? Insanity, I tell you.

I miss my muses and feel like I really need to write. I have so many works in process on my desktop that I've lost count. Whew. And the ideas just keep on coming! I think writing is my way of dealing with stress. If I don't write soon, I may spontaneously combust. BOOM! I recently contracted "A Walk Between Worlds" with Amira Press as part of a themed series about winged men. Mine is a half angel/demon assassin who falls for the sister of his last assignment. It's a tangled up mess between them. Amira is hoping for a June release, so cross your fingers for me. I had the privelge of designing all the covers for the books in the series. You can check them out on Amira's Coming soon page.

In other news, my novella "Seventh Night" part of the Demonic Obsessions series at Amira is now available in a three story anthology in print at Amazon.com. It has a spicy, red hot cover with an enticing fellow on the front and back.

Check it out:

Crymsyn, Dahlia, and I are planning some demon fun to celebrate the release, so stay tuned in June for more information about that.

Last night, Bitten By Books emailed me to let me know their reviewer had read "Demon in the Basement " my demon novella that was always a bestseller when it was contracted with Forbidden. Check out what she had to say:

"...This book had me teary eyed from the get go. Both Emme and Nazan had
been abused mentally and physically by the same man. Her father. Both
start to remember the past and hold onto each other and try to come to
terms with it. Together they begin to heal old wounds. Did you know
that it is hard to read with tears in your eyes? I have to recommend
this book to everyone I know."

-Megan, Reviewer for Bitten By Books

Not that I wanted anyone to cry, but wow, I touched a reader with my story. That's so humbling and rewarding at the same time. If you haven't read Demon in the Basement, you can download your very own copy at PurpleSword.com or grab the print book Demons and Vampires which will be available for a very limited time.

So, fellow authors, what's going on in your neck of the woods? Readers, what are you up to today?

Anastasia Rabiyah
RabiyahBooks.com

Derrick 7744 Reviewed!

2009-05-02T21:31:00.000-07:00

Derrick 7744 was a short story I write some time ago and set on the backburner, another short that needed the injection of erotic romance to make it work. Years later I came back to it and revised accordingly. It's a suspense-filled sci fi with a hot hero and a timid heroine who needs to get a new perspective on life. Fallen Angel Reviews gave Mercer's Rebellion: Derrick 7744 four angels and this great review:

DERRICK 7744
By Anastasia Rabiyah
Available at: PurpleSword.com

Buy it HERE

Mercer’s Rebellion: Derrick 7744 by Anastasia Rabiyah is a story of
corporate power, duplicity, and new beginnings. Cam Sorensen is a
scientist for Mercer Laboratories, a powerful multi-planetary food
conglomerate. She spends her days in a laboratory and her nights in
self-imposed isolation. When she hires Derrick Carnell to be her escort
to a Mercer function, all she wants is an uncomplicated companion for
the sake of appearances. What she gets is a whole lot more. Derrick,
number 7744 at the escort service, is the perfect escort. He’s
gorgeous, intelligent, and he seems to be interested in Cam. However,
there is more to him than there may initially appear, and once she
finds out the truth about him, Cam is drawn into a web of corporate
intrigue that will change her life forever. Suddenly, Cam’s research
takes on a more sinister meaning, and she must question her entire
career up to the present. As she and Derrick strive toward a new
beginning, can Cam undo the damage that her research appears to have
caused?

...Readers are presented with a vision of a world where corporations
play people like pawns in a chess game: the focus is on winning the
game rather than the well-being of the individual pieces. Cam and
Derrick are two of those chess pieces, and they are struggling to be
free of the game. Cam’s character is sympathetic and well developed –
she is defined by her loneliness, love of the animals in her lab, and
her absolute shock when she finds out what her research is really
doing. Derrick is not quite as real as Cam is, and the reader is not
given the opportunity to know him quite as well. He is a foil for Cam
and a damsel in distress character that motivates her into action.
That’s fine – he looks good doing it and makes Cam happy, so he
fulfills his role in the story... This story is a good one and will definately appeal to science fiction buffs.

-Whiteny, Fallen Angel Reviews

Oikoni Stone now available in print!

2009-04-26T19:30:00.001-07:00

Step into the magic of the Willow Woods in print. Oikoni Stone is now available in trade paperback at Amazon.com Click on over there today and order your very own copy of this myth based fantasy story of love that crosses boundaries.

OIKONI STONE
by Anastasia Rabiyah
Published by loveyoudivine Alterotica
Available at Amazon.com

Paperback: 312 pages
ISBN-10: 1600543324
ISBN-13: 978-1600543326
Product Dimensions:
6.8 x 4 x 0.8 inches
Shipping Weight: 10.2 ounces

Even before their first kiss, Nainie knows Tiir is the only woman for
him. The ripples in the river move toward her rather than away. Her
eyes are like the lake when the noonday sun touches the water’s
surface, blue and placid, bespeaking another place far from the stone
city where she resides. She is different, but he feels she is the same
as him—one who stands apart from those of her clan. They come from
different worlds—his, a wilderness life of magic, promiscuity, and
cultural hierarchy—hers, a mysterious stone walled village he is not
allowed to enter. After gathering his courage, he crosses the wall and
finds himself in a cold, ordered world of slavery to a cruel master.
Ensnared in her master’s hold and unable to get word to Tiir that he is
being held captive, Nainie must rely on the kindness of strangers to
plan his escape and find her again.

“...Oikoni Stone is a sweet romance
about two very naïve and innocent lovers. …The love and kindness that
Tiir and Nanie had for each other and for those around them (is) very
heart-warming. The attraction they have for each other is passionate
yet so innocent it took my breath away…” -Kim, Cupid’s Library Reviews

Excerpt:

Nainie crossed his hands in his lap and leaned forward, watching the young woman from his vantage hidden among the draping branches of the willow. Sea green leaves caressed his bare arms and tickled his back where his looping ebony hair did not hang. The thick mass waved in the light breeze, forcing him to brush aside strands that fell in his amber eyes and shrouded his view. He dropped his hand and squinted at her pale brilliance.

The woman wore white, a swathe of pale cotton fabric that hugged her curves and covered her so much that it offered her modesty. Nainie spied on her every morning. He ran from his village in the willow woods and climbed the same tree, his bare feet gripping the gnarled trunk and his fingers lodging in each available crevice until he reached this same lookout. I wish I knew her name, he mused, a smile lifting the corners of his mouth.

She knelt beside the river, her eyes downcast and her honey-colored hair drifting just as unruly in the breeze as his. The woman pulled the leather strap from her shoulder and dipped her head beneath it in order to retrieve the clay jug balanced on her back. The ripples across the river moved toward her.

Nainie puckered his lips in a wind whisper when the side of her fabric wrap fell off her left shoulder, revealing more of her fair skin and the top of her small, round breast. She dipped the jug into the water and waited. The water filled too fast. She pulled it free, wiping the lip with delicate fingers. The woman adjusted her clothing, hiding her body, and he pouted at the loss of such a tempting view. Beyond the white plastered wall, her clan called to her in feminine voices and Nainie sighed, disappointed. She would go, as she always did and he’d not see her until the following morning.

He swung his bare feet in mid-air, waiting for her to hurry along the stone-lined path. Her clan is strange, he decided. People should live in the open, not behind rocks.

When she disappeared beyond the high berry bushes, he slid forward and dropped to the ground, landing with ease on the thick blanket of leaves covering the willow wood floor. The tassels on the edges of his loincloth tickled his legs. He glanced over his shoulder. The stone path the woman took wound away from the river’s edge, and he could see the smooth prints her sandaled feet left behind. “Strange,” he whispered. “If I separated my skin from the earth, how would I know what lay beneath me?”

Nainie shrugged and ran his hand through his curly hair. “Tomorrow, he said to the breeze.

Erotica - Not All Books Created Equal

2009-04-09T15:31:00.000-07:00

Bevie recently commented on my blog and asked a question that is legitimate for anyone who has never read erotica or the derivations of the genre. I'm going to answer it here as a blog post, because there is a difference, and many publishers see it in their own light. So do readers and authors.

His question was: "Just how graphic is erotica?"
Going back in time, first, there was romance. And most romance was pretty safe with "closed doors" on any sex scenes. That is to say something went on in there, but it was left to the reader's imagination.

Then there was the romance that did describe the sex scenes but used (my favorite term) "purple prose". Purple prose is verbiage akin to: He thrust his purple-headed love sword into her moist valley of desire. Are you giggling yet? This type of writing has mostly gone out of style. It relies on innuendo and double meaning to get the message across. It still can be erotic; don't doubt that, but only when done in moderation. Some of today's publishers actually state in the submission guidelines that purple prose is NOT allowed. Others list words they do not want to see. (Check out Freya's Bower Submission Guidelines).

Now, there is erotica. But, not all erotica is created equal. Here is my definition of the varying levels and names of the genre.

Erotica: Erotica is a story heavy with sexual tension and sex. Character growth and even the plot is based on sex and the sexual experience. Not all characters in erotica fall in love. Sometimes, they learn something new about themselves through the experience of sex or have some sort of life-changing epiphany after experiencing sex in a way new to them. This genre lends itself to hardcore, graphic language and curse words used to describe body parts. Not all erotica has a happy ending or a happy for now ending nor do publishers of this genre always require such endings.

Erotic Romance: This genre tends to follow the romance norm of the characters falling in love. Other plot elements can be introduced, such as mystery, suspense, and any other genre break-off, but the gist of the story is a heated romance between the main characters. Sex is not behind closed doors--ever. Here is where I see the most language variance. Graphic language may be used but that is not always the norm. Authors who tend to use softer language to describe body parts (ie. length, manhood) as opposed to slang, often slate their erotic romance as sensual romance. Sensual indicates a softer use of prose.

Sweet Romance: Closes the doors on sex scenes. Sexual tension can still be high and these kinds of romances can still make a reader sweat, but they do not show the reader the sordid details.

If you you are a reader new to the genre, I have to caution you that we writers get a little funky. I do not always stick to one style of writing. Shahzar, for instance, my epic fantasy romance (http://purplesword.com/), is considered a sweet romance, and you will find no jarring graphic sexual language in it, although there are some sex scenes. The Envelope Room and Seducing My Husband (http://loveyoudivine.com/) are most definitely erotica with graphic words and slang used throughout. A reader who wants the "they got married, had a baby and lived happily ever after" probably is not going to want erotica.

What makes a story erotic for some readers may be a total turn off for others. If you are bothered by swear words, do not read the books from such publishers as Ellora's Cave and even my beloved loveyoudivine if the book's rating is erotic. It may be best to stick with romance rated as sweet and maybe even sensual, but erotic and erotica may offend you.

Once an author crosses the bridge to writing anything erotic, that author's intent is to arouse the reader with his or her prose. It's a daunting task, and not all erotic content is equal or appealing to every reader. A reader's best bet is to find an author whose style and use of language appeals to him or her without becoming offensive. Unless of course, you read my work. If that's the case, pay attention to the ratings so you get what you will be comfortable reading.

Anastasia Rabiyah

Oikoni Stone Now Available!

2009-04-06T19:39:00.001-07:00

Oikoni Stone
By Anastasia Rabiyah

Available now from loveyoudivine Alterotica
http://loveyoudivine.com/

Step into the magic of the Willow Woods where Nainie, the son of a dryad and a shadow spirit, has
come of age to take a wife. He longs for the woman in white who lives
across the river, but venturing beyond his clan’s boundaries is
forbidden...and dangerous.

Nainie cupped Tiir’s chin. She looked up at him with those vibrant blue eyes and he knew his words shocked her. He could feel her cool hands against the small of his back, pressing him down, closer and not close enough. The long grass, all dried and yellow, matched her golden hair. It smelled like the wilds. He longed to be back there, away from this cold stone world of slaves and dictated order.

“Are you really a wood spirit?” she whispered.

He lowered his mouth to hers and kissed her until she moaned. He ran his fingers over her bare shoulders to the knots that held the white fabric to her body. He slid his hands beneath them, but didn’t tug them loose. Not yet, not here, he thought as he withdrew from her.

Tiir struggled to breathe. “Are you?”

He grinned at her, but didn’t answer for he was something like what she thought him to be. Instead, he lowered his mouth to her neck and kissed her. She shifted beneath him, her hands touching his waist, clutching him. The way she moved beneath him, not all lust and fire like Moyavi, but something more delicate, unsure, made him want to savor each second.

His cock hardened beneath the cotton wrap. He wanted her more than he desired anything in his life. Pressing his hips against hers, he knew she felt his need when she cried out softly. Tiir’s small fingers slipped down, tracing his skin in a gentle way until they reached past his wrap. She pressed her palms against his taut buttocks, urging him closer.

“Are you?” she forced out, still curious. Her legs parted and she curled one foot around his ankle.

He brushed his lips across hers before he answered. “The willow woods speak to me.” He moaned, confirming what he was. “They speak to all my people for we are one and the same with them.”

Purple Sword

2009-04-05T11:37:00.001-07:00

You can now get many of my books that were previously released at Forbidden from Purple Sword, a small publisher of romantic speculative fiction. Shahzar, In the Moon's Light, Demon in the Basement, Wolf's Gift, Derrick 7744, and God in the Stone are all available as e-books. Eventually Shahzar will release in print as one massive volume that includes all four of her previously released ebooks. Stop by Purple Sword today and pick up a FREE download from me, Crymsyn Hart, and Dawne' Dominique. Browse around. They're small yet, but they will be adding new books soon!

April Fool's Party

2009-04-01T10:26:00.001-07:00

Come play with us at The Muses Three Yahoo Group this month. We're all writing a round robin story and anyone and everyone is invited to join in. You could win a fabulous prize! Click the image above or go to: http://groups.yahoo.com/group/TheMusesThree and request to join.

The Tucson Festival of Books

2009-03-15T11:45:00.000-07:00

Turning up the Heat, The Spicier Side of Romance

Yesterday, March 15, 2009 was the kickoff of the first Tucson Festival of Books which took place at the University of Arizona's campus here in Tucson, Arizona. A huge event with over 400 authors and an expected 50,000 guests, it was a fun filled day with something for everyone. There were activities and entertainment for children and adults. Great food was provided by several local vendors, and booths galore to peruse books, literacy programs, the library's new e-book abilities, and much more.

I was offered the opportunity to speak on a panel with erotic romance authors Jill Knowles and Sherrill Quinn. Adrienne Walker from 94.9 MIX FM was our wonderful moderator for the discussion. Jill Knowles kicked the presentation off with a discussion of the romance genre and how it has evolved from the bodice ripper covers with purple prose and closed doors on sex scenes, to the steamier not-always-an-alpha-male erotic romance of today that can push the envelope right off the table.

Sherrill Quinn defined the romance genre and its many facets, from sweet traditional, to erotic romance, and erotica. She explained the difference between porn and erotic romance, and gave an interesting recount of how and why she began writing.

I spoke about the future of books, specifically e-books, and gave a run-down of the different formats and ways we can purchase them. Almost everyone in the audience had heard about them, but only a few owned a hand-held reader, so it looks like the PC is still the way to go when reading our favorite digital media. I discussed the purchase of Fictionwise.com by Barnes and Noble and suggested those who had never tried an e-book head on over to that site and download a free read.

There were a lot of questions from our audience, anything from "What does a woman want?" to "What do you see the future of paranormal erotic romance turning to?" Adrienne tossed Hershey's Kisses to everyone who asked a question. We actually ran over our allotted time and met with many members of our audience when they came up to the table to ask more questions and exchange contact information.

Our book signing followed the panel discussion outside the building on the patio. Sherrill had a supply of her book Daring the Moon to sign and give away! I had an assortment of my loveyoudivine titles available for sale, and Jill, ever the extrovert, gathered readers and invited them over to our table to meet us all.

Sherrill spent time at the RWA booth later on, while Jill and I walked the mall and scoped out all the fun and exciting things vendors had to offer. It was a day that I will remember forever! If you're in the Tucson area, stop by the U of A today for the last day of the event. Don't forget to get a bag of Kettle Corn!

Anastasia Rabiyah

Egg Hunt at Amira Press!

2009-03-04T10:52:00.001-08:00

Looking for chocolate and something romantic? Look no further! Ten authors at Amira Press have teamed up and hidden eggs on their websites. Find them all and enter to win a basket of goodies and $50 worth of See's chocolates! Get the details at AmiraPress.com or click the banner below:

REALITY CHECK FOR NEW AND ASPIRING AUTHORS

2009-02-25T14:15:00.000-08:00

SO, YOU WANT TO BE AN AUTHOR?

You worked, you slaved, you researched, you suffered through painful critiques, you revised and revised and revised. You wrote…da da da dum..A BOOK! A wonderful, fantastic, can’t put it down kind of book. Wait no, not just a book—a NOVEL! Now you will be rich and famous. You’ll get your book published and the world will be so infatuated, intrigued, and interested that you will be able to quit your day job and stay at home, tapping away at your keyboard as a full time, insanely high paid author instead. You’ll get to do what you love. You’ll be independently wealthy. Happy. Complete.

That’s how it all works, right?

WRONG!

*slaps you upside the head* Come back down to reality. Life isn’t that easy. My father in law has a saying: “You don’t get money unless your butt sweats.” He’s Greek, and that’s the loose translation. What he means is basically: you don’t get anything unless you work for it. Life isn’t an endless slew of free rides or easy money. If you’re eighteen or older, you ought to know that by now.

Why am I being so blunt—discouraging even? Let me explain. I have edited books, designed cover art, and have been a published author since August of 2007. I’ve seen authors come and go. I’ve seen publishers come and go. I’ve seen a lot of diva attitudes and unrealistic dreams. I’ve cried with those aspiring authors in my critique group who suffer rejection after rejection. I’ve cheered those who have broken into print. I’ve shaken my head at those who think they are the next J.K. Rowling, and yet they can’t spell worth a damn and refuse to use spellcheck. It’s time for a reality check, people.

WRITING IS A BUSINESS

Writing may well be an art, but it’s also a business. If you want to go somewhere with your book, polish it to within an inch of its life, and learn how to sell yourself—and your book. This is an age of technology which is easily accessible to the average person. ANYONE can publish his or herself. It’s not rocket science anymore. That’s good and bad. Authors who are too unique for the big NY pubs, as we'll call them, don’t have to wait a year for a rejection. Those authors can self publish their books and hop out into the world and peddle them. There are e-books now, put out by the big NY pubs as well as a gazillion small e-publishers. They cut the cost in half for most works, and readers get digital product as soon as they click to buy. No waiting at the big brick and mortar stores. Heck, you can buy e-books in your jammies if you want. You don’t even have to get out of bed. Welcome to instant access. Welcome to a world where a stay at home mom can buy erotic romance and a book on parenting in the same click. Welcome to the insanity of publishing today.

DON’T QUIT YOUR DAY JOB!

I’m going to get down to the nitty gritty of this whirlwind adventure. You want to be an author? Then let’s get your head screwed on straight so you can know what to expect. First of all, understand how much money you will realistically make on a first book. If you go with an e-publisher, and your 60k word novel retails for $6 a pop, and you get 50% royalties (generous by today’s standards as the average is 35%-40%), that means you get $3 a sale. If readers don’t know who the heck you are, you’re not going to sell many books. More reality—you work a day job. Do the math. How many books do you need to sell to make equal to your yearly salary? Do not deceive yourself. Even J.K. Rowling was a struggling single mom living off of government assistance. Stephen King wrote for many, many years before he made a living off his writing. Authors DO NOT have medical or dental benefits unless they buy it themselves. They DO NOT have a pension plan unless they do it themselves. They DO NOT have job security. If you want to make a living as an author, buck up and keep your day job. Save, save, save. Write when you have spare time. And plan for the long haul. Learn how to effectively market yourself because your publisher doesn’t really care about selling your books if you’re an unknown. YOU have to care. Your enthusiasm and perseverance are the two things that will get you in a reader’s sights and hopefully, your book will be so interesting that it’ll keep that reader enthralled. But most likely, it won’t. Realize that.

INVESTIGATE YOUR PUBLISHER

I’m focusing on e-publishers since they are my publisher of choice. Understand that many e-publishing houses were started by driven authors who wanted a better way to get their own works out into the world. Hungry entrepreneurs who maybe didn’t know it all, maybe don’t have the best people, marketing, or accounting skills, but darn it, they jumped out into the water to swim with the big fish—erm sharks. Know that. Accept it. Believe in it. That’s what the American spirit of free enterprise is all about. E-publishers—the sane ones who believe in what they’re doing—will do their best to get it right and keep their authors afloat. Publishers are only as good as their authors. Authors are only as good as their books and their marketing. A chain is only as strong as its weakest link. Don’t be the weakest link.

Did I allude to the insane ones? I won’t name names, but they’re not difficult to spot. Shoddy, out of date websites, weird saying like: all our authors make a living off their books, or lots of complaints from authors on places like Piers Anthony’s www.HiPiers.com website or Preditors and Editors http://anotherealm.com/prededitors. I cannot stress it enough. Investigate before you submit. Look, at least, at those two sites and see if the publisher you want to submit to is on there with a nasty record. It’s free to look and could save you a world of grief later. I know one author who called up his publisher after he received his contract. Before he signed on the dotted line, he asked smart questions like:

· What is your business plan?

· How long have you been in business?

· What is the average I can expect to earn on my book based on new authors with a similar genre as my work?

· How will you help me market my work?

· Where do you distribute your books if you sell them through 3rd party vendors?

SELF PUBLISHING – TO DO OR NOT TO DO?

Look, my Dear Fellow Authors, I love you all. I feel for you. I am you. You and I, we don’t want to get hurt or waste time. We need to be true to ourselves though. DO NOT get taken in by huge self-publishing outfits that charge you an arm, a leg, a first born child, and a boatload of money to lie to you and tell you your book rocks. They’ll certainly publish you and laugh all the way to the bank with your hard earned money. Sure, your book will sit on a shelf and look cool, but if it’s not out there getting sold and making you money—what’s the point?

DO NOT self publish yourself unless you know WHAT YOU ARE DOING! Do you know how to format a book? Do you know how to make a cover that can stand up to those fab NY pub covers? Has your book been edited? I shudder to think of all the offers I have had from aspiring authors who want me to format their book and design their cover art for them, but they have never even had an editor look at the verbiage. Whoa, whoa, whoa people. Would you go out of the house in stinky, stained, ripped up undies? Would you go to the store like that? On a date? Think of your book that way. You can slap a beautiful set of clothes over those STANKY undies, you can make the paragraphs be aligned and put some pretty lipstick on the chapter headers, but when people get close enough to look inside, or get a whiff of what’s going on underneath, they’re gonna run from those smelly drawers and scream about how bad they are to anyone and everyone who will listen.

IS BIG RIGHT FOR YOU?

A word about the big publishing houses and why it’s so difficult for new authors to get in there. This is one of the hugest reality checks of all. NY pubs, or any successful big publishing house is very selective about what they contract. It costs money to publish your book—pay the editor, the formatter, the cover artist, a possible advance to the author… It costs money to print out ten thousand copies and stock them in display shelves at bookstores. All that money goes into the toilet when those books don’t sell, get their covers ripped off, and get chucked into the trash because they didn’t move. So, ask yourself, is my book NY pub quality? Will it REALISTICALLY sell those first ten thousand copies? Is it mass market material? Or would it be better suited to a niche market? Even an e-publisher? Or maybe, should I print it out, bind it, and keep it on my shelf so I can feel good about writing a book. If it’s the latter, there is absolutely nothing wrong with that. If it’s not the latter, understand your game plan and what your goals are.

It sounds mean. It sounds heartless, but only your true friends will tell you when you have broccoli stuck in your teeth. Here’s a toothpick and some dental floss. If you want to be an author, I want you to be informed. Know the equation. Author = 90% promotion + 10% writing. Once you’re big enough to have an agent, a famous publishing house, and people who market for you, not to mention a massive fan base dying to read your next release, those percentages may turn around, but you have to get there first. It’s a high place to climb to. Get your game on. I’m not perfect and never claim to be. I need my editors. I need a strong publisher that cares. I am only as good as those who helped me get to this point. But I do not want any new or aspiring authors to make the same mistakes or bear the same illusions of grandeur that I did. I don’t want to see YOU complaining about how your book doesn’t sell. Get out there and shake it, sell it, and understand that sometimes, our books won’t sell no matter how much we try. That’s okay. When it happens, give up or…write the next chapter.

Good luck, and as I say to all my authors, many happy sales!

Anastasia Rabiyah

Anastasia Rabiyah writes erotic romance and speculative fiction. Find out more about her at www.RabiyahBooks.com

New Release: Bound by the Night

2009-02-13T13:05:00.001-08:00

If you're in the mood for a little vampire love this Valentine's weekend, check out my latest release from Amira Press!

Bound by the Night
by Anastasia Rabiyah
ISBN: 978-1-935348-20-7
Genre: Vampire Erotic Romance
Cover Artist: Anastasia Rabiyah
Book Length: Novella
Heat Level: Hot
http://amirapress.com/

BUY IT HERE

Valentine’s Day brings Faith into a nightclub—the last place she wantsto be. When she catches the eye of a tall, dark bartender who offersher a drink, her caution slips away. She can’t take her eyes off him orsay no when he asks her to a private dance. When his kisses turndangerous, she asks to go home, but being bound by a creature of thenight is not an easy snare to escape, and escape might be the lastthing she wants to do.

Excerpt:
The music stopped, and the DJ, his deep voice garbled bythe doors and walls separating them, spoke to the dancers out on thefloor. She glanced at her watch, frowned, and took another backwardstep. “I should go check on my friend.”

His fingers closed over her wrist before she could move farther away. “I’m sure she’s fine, Faith.”

She smiled uncomfortably, thinking his hold was too tight, butthat it also felt strangely good to be stopped from escaping. His toucharoused her, awakened her to the heat of another’s body close to hers,to the power and control his rough grip invoked.

Behind her, the door opened to let in a flash of strobelighting, which danced across Tristan’s face. He smiled. His teethcaught the silvery flash—long, sharp, dangerous teeth. She opened hermouth to scream for help, but he closed in and kissed her lips beforeshe had a chance to utter a sound.

Their lips touched. Tongues meshed and tested. His passionstole her breath, made her lightheaded. His hand worked her lower back,massaged away her sudden fear, and melted the thick resolve she livedwith from day to day. When he broke away, she hurried to catch herbreath.

His dark eyes flickered with gold. He lowered his face to herneck to kiss. Wet and hot, he trailed his tongue along her skin. Teethnipped. Pierced. His tense body crushed into her, the bulge in hispants hard and demanding. She closed her eyes, breathed out, and feltherself falling into a sensual swoon.

New Release: Demon's Redemption

2009-01-23T07:53:00.001-08:00

I have a new release which I co-authored with Sandy Samson. Demon's Redemption steps away from my usual dark side, and offers a comical but twisted tale of forbidden love. If you want a read to make you smile and go, "Aaaaw." then is one is for you! Pick up your e-book copy of Demon's Redemption at Mystic Moon Press!

Mary and Sam, whose paths parted years before, are thrown into a hilarious mix-up when an overly zealous demon decides to play the role of an angel. Malarak breaks the rules of Heaven and Hell in an attempt to reunite the two lovers he thinks belong together. It sounds noble, but it's mostly a ploy to impress Beliana, the angel who holds the demon's dark heart. Can a demon do an angel's job and fix the wrongs in these two lovers' past, or will everything fall apart like it always does when Malarak tries to do something good? From the minds of fantasy authors Sandy Samson and Anastasia Rabiyah, Demon's Redemption is a tangled-up tale of true love and acceptance riddled with laughter.

Excerpt:

“Mommy! Look! Come on, hurry. There’s a giant green butterfly trying to get in!”

Beliana wiggled her antennae in concern as the boy pointed at her, shouting for his mother. Only an ancient, battered screen door separated them. She loosened her grip on the wire mesh, ready to swoop off into the night if it came to that. A young woman holding a dripping pan in one hand and a dish towel in the other appeared from a nearby room and knelt down beside the child.

“It’s a luna moth,” she said, grabbing his wrist just as he reached out to poke at the screen. “Isn’t it beautiful?”

Beliana stretched luxuriously, pulling her wings far behind her slim body, and let go, taking to the cool night air with long, slow sweeps. She turned a circle, saw the mother and child watching wide-eyed, and gave them a graceful dip before heading toward the forest.

The moon was so bright that she caught glimpses of her shadow skimming across the ground. The warm but not yet muggy air made for one of those delicious early summer evenings that demands adventure. So when she reached the brook that bordered the forest, instead of crossing it, she turned downstream and flitted above the shimmering water, watching her reflection dance in every ripple. The swamp critters were coming to life, calling one another to meet and greet and make new swamp life.

She passed over a particularly large and ugly toad, and circled back for a closer look. This was no ordinary toad. It was ancient, misshapen, with one crooked leg, a twisted head, and huge gray warts covering its back. It glanced up at her as she dipped low, and let out a pathetic “Harrup.”

She stopped in mid-flight and landed on a clump of marsh grass. “Is that you, Malarak?”

The toad harrupped again and lowered its head until its chin touched the wet ground.

“Come on, talk to me. What’s up?”

The toad rocked from side to side, pushing with its good leg, turning away until its back was to her.

She glanced around, sniffing the air. Another toad, smaller and healthier looking, sat on a tiny island a few feet away. After making sure no owl or other terrible beast was watching, she leapt out of the luna moth and into the young toad. The moth paused a few seconds before taking to the sky.

Beliana flexed her new muscles, getting a feel for the toad’s body while she studied her friend. Malarak seemed oblivious to the world. She slipped into the shallow water, swam silently until she was behind the old toad, and jumped, landing on top of the warty creature. Hooking her back legs under his behind, she tucked her head down and rolled into the water, dragging him along in a ball of flailing limbs.

A few powerful kicks brought them to shore. “That’ll teach you to ignore me,” she said, snorting water out of her nose.

He didn’t answer, didn’t pounce on her in retaliation, didn’t scream, didn’t laugh, didn’t do anything but sit motionless, his eyes cast down.

A mosquito buzzed past, and before she knew what was happening, her tongue shot out, wrapped itself around the tiny insect, and pulled it into her mouth. She swallowed fast so she wouldn’t have to taste it, and sidled up to Malarak. “Come on, what’s wrong?” she asked, rubbing her head against his.

A sack beneath his chin blew itself up to enormous proportions and then collapsed, rending the air with a mighty croak that set a hundred other toads in the swamp trying to match it. “You wouldn’t understand. You angels have no idea.”

“And you demons have too many ideas. That’s your problem. Trust me, Malarak. You don’t need to plot and plan everything you do. Just take what comes along and be happy. Life’s a lot better that way.”

“Easy for you to say. You angels, you get everything handed to you on a silver platter. But us, we got to work for every damn thing in our lives. Nothin’ comes free, and nothin’s easy.” A fat mosquito drifted past, so heavy that it’s wildly beating wings barely kept it in the air, and Malarak’s tongue zapped it. His jaw worked, and he shook his head in disgust. “Bloody beast. It just ate. I hate it when they just ate. Skunk, I think.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah. Poor you. I know the story. Just because you were born a demon, you think the whole universe is out to get you. That’s rubbish. And enough with the silver platter stuff, already. I’ve been an angel for five thousand years, and I’ve never even seen a silver platter. I don’t fit in with high society. But quit changing the subject. What’s with you?”

She followed his upward gaze and saw a great horned owl watching them with hunger in its eyes. She was about to plunge into the swamp for cover when the owl’s expression suddenly changed. Its head drooped and it blinked its eyes as if fighting back tears. After a few somber seconds it spread its wings and circled to the ground, stopping in front of her while the ancient toad that had hosted Malarak a moment ago gave a terrified croak and hopped into the water.

“That’s better,” she said to the owl. “Nothing personal, Malarak, but I never did understand why you take up residence in toads. They’re ugly as sin, and besides, flies and mosquitoes taste awful.”

The owl cocked its head to the side. “Let me tell you, mice are no better. Now leave me alone. I don’t feel like talking.”

“That’s too bad. You’re gonna talk to me anyway. What happened?”

The owl hung his head for a minute before whispering. “I got a warning from On High. I must have made somebody important mad, because a prissy little angel who couldn’t have been more than a hundred years old just told me that what I did last week was going to cost me. Now the room they have reserved for me is two levels deeper. Damn.”

Direct Link

New Release: Blood Angel Book Two: Charon

2009-01-09T14:01:00.000-08:00

Blood Angel

Book Two: Charon

Available now at: www.AmiraPress.com

Vampire/Interracial Erotic Romance

Dear Readers,

If you suffered through Blood Angel with Angela and survived, you won't want to miss book two, Charon! Taking the villain's side, Blood Angel Two shows a different side of darkness and offers a strange glimmer of hope at its end. Beseeched by his former lover, Charon rises from his vampiric sleep to exact revenge on Angela. But when he meets her, his plans change.

Read my Interview at The Romance Studio featuring Blood Angel: http://theromancestudio.com/blue/who13.php

Excerpt:

Tommy wasn’t getting any better. Every night, long after he’d gone to sleep and I’d sated my thirst for blood without taking life, I sat beside him in bed and watched him suffer nightmares while muttering my name over and over. “Angela, Angela . . .” I couldn’t help but think I was the cause of his suffering, that because of me, the grief over losing his first wife had rooted in his heart and refused to give him peace. Could the darkness in me engulf him? Destroy him? I couldn’t bring myself to explain why I was only able to be with him at night and why I was no longer like him. I could not tell my lover I was a vampire. Moreover, I could never, ever, change him to be like me.

Worse yet, when I slept beneath his daughter’s bed during the day, I dreamed. My own visions haunted me, most unlike the nightmares a human suffers. The spirit who visited me and plagued me with images of blood and death continued to appear despite my efforts to abate the dreams. Her name was Karada, and I truly think her soul haunts mine. I killed her—not that she deserved to live, vile thing that she was. She tried to make me her pet, and I would not have it. Each time I slip my eyes shut, I see her leering. I hear her voice whispering in a lilting cadence, “I will have my revenge, little angel.”

It was one such day I awoke to the sound of pots and pans clattering in the small kitchen of his apartment. Tommy must have been making breakfast. The murmurings of soap operas sounded from the TV. He didn’t have work that day, and had only been working a few days a week, able to keep up with his job from home on the days he stayed away from the office. Karada’s voice spoke in my ear although my consciousness could not be denied. “I’ll send him for you . . . bitch.” The whisper sounded real, the maliciousness undeniable.

I rolled onto my side to face a small doll Serena had left behind. I missed Tommy’s daughter and needed the comfort only the innocent embrace of a child could bring. Shivering from the ghost’s threat, I wondered about the reach Karada might still have over the world. I wondered who she was referring to.

Since becoming a creature of the night, I saw many things differently. Ghosts appeared to me, but seldom spoke—until Karada. Auras showed me humans’ moods, which gave a clue as to what they might taste like should I choose to feed from them. And when my hunger becomes too strong for me, the night sky bleeds red, signaling my impending loss of control. I seldom let myself go so far. I need to be strong, to remain steady for Tommy. I need him to come back to me, to return from the darkness he battles within himself—a darkness much unlike mine.

Curious? Discover the author at www.RabiyahBooks.com

New Release: In the Moon's Light

2009-01-08T08:20:00.000-08:00

In the Moon's Light

by Anastasia Rabiyah

Dark Fantasy/Erotic Romance/Vampire

Available at: http://www.forbiddenpublications/

A woman suffering nightmares from a haunting past, a vampire awakened from boredom to find a new toy. Zale and Victoria, two unlikely lovers who meet In the Moon’s Light.

Victoria left behind her old life, hoping to start over in a small country town where nobody knows about her past. Supporting herself with a part time job at a local bookstore and as a live-in caretaker for an old, empty bed and breakfast mansion, she tries to get through her college classes, but soon finds her world turned upside down when a dream lover enters her bedroom one night. She looks forward to his visits because his attentions keep her usual nightmares at bay.

When her past comes back to haunt her, she has more to worry about than the moody lover who wards off her bad dreams.

Excerpt:

Tory opened her eyes. Shadows fluttered across the gray ceiling in the dim light of the full moon. She’d left the window open for the cooling breeze. She turned, fear drying her mouth and drawing goose bumps across her skin. The bed felt warm, safe, but something about the open window called to her. Willow leaves rustled and shook, making the shadows dance faster. White sheers billowed, beckoning her. She pushed back the covers, set her bare feet on the marred wooden floor, and watched the wind change. The curtains sucked backward, luring her to follow.

Her feet moved of their own volition. She wiped the sleep from her eyes and stopped at the sill. Tory pushed aside the curtains, the sweet scent of jasmine strong. She stared out into the night, expecting to see something important. The eerie moonlight glowed across the vacant lawn. Her gaze traveled along the slope to the little, run down guesthouse that bordered the property. A man stood in the yard, his body rigid as he gazed skyward. She decided he must be staring at the moon. The night hid any clear details.

No one was supposed to be on the property, except her, its caretaker. She frowned at the trespasser. “Hey! What are you doing here?”

The stranger turned slowly, as if he had all the time in the world. Tory backtracked her memory to be sure she’d locked the many doors before she retired for the night. The old mansion was eerie enough without a nutcase standing outside in the middle of the night. The man’s presence made her angry, but as he walked across the lawn toward the big house, her ire shifted to panic. She was all alone, a college student watching the place for extra money. There was no one around for miles that could hear her call for help. She’d set her cell phone to charge before she went to bed, but it was downstairs, plugged into the outlet by the fridge.

He strode across the lawn, his face lit a ghostly pallor by the silver light. He moved with all the grace of a stalking predator, his hands limp at his sides. His long legs soon carried him to just below her window. Unusual for an old-fashioned town, he wore his hair shoulder-length and loose. In curling, dark tendrils it blew in the breeze, obscuring his expression.

“This is private property!” She did her best to sound intimidating, a difficult task when wearing only a white t-shirt.

He stared up at her as he had the moon. Something flashed in his eyes, a certain light, and she wondered what could be reflecting there. Tory cringed. She backed away from the window. The sheers shifted and puffed. Downstairs, she heard the porch door creak on its ancient hinges. “I locked it,” she whispered. Near silent footsteps trod across the floors below. Tory closed the bedroom door and turned the lock. She glanced around the dim room. The closet was a wide place, but no clothes hung within to hide behind. She ran to the bed, got down on her hands and knees, and slid beneath it, quivering like a frightened child.

She heard him ascend the stairs, his gait a pulse, as steady as a heartbeat. He halted on the landing for an interminable amount of time. His voice drifted to her, soothing as he hummed a lilting tune. The beat of his steps began again. Tory shimmied further in.

The handle on her door jiggled. Metal clinked. Then, as the porch entry before it, the bedroom door came open as if it had not been properly secured. She stared at his shoes, featureless boots that clop-clopped closer. He stood at the edge of the bed for a long while.

“Come out.” The voice had a strange cadence, an accent she couldn’t place.

Tory closed her eyes tight. She prayed. Remaining as still as possible, she hoped he’d go away. Instead, she heard his boots scuff across the wooden floor. Though she didn’t look, she felt his heated gaze searing over her body. An icy hand gripped her ankle. The stranger dragged her from beneath the mattress.

“I said, come out. When I tell you to do something, you must do it.”

She opened her eyes. He knelt over her. The moonlight showed on his pale skin, lighting him like a marble statue. His hand glided over her t-shirt, across her left breast and up to her neck. He felt cold. Fingers traced lines up and down the side of her throat. “You’re beautiful,” he whispered, bending closer. His eyes seemed black in the darkness. “So very lovely and frightened.”

“Please, go away,” she choked out.

A chilly thumb ran circles over her chin. He frowned. “But I’ve only just arrived. We’ve not been introduced. I can assure you that I would like to know you in every sense of the word.” His face moved closer, his fluid movements surreal. His knee poked its way between her thighs as he brushed his frigid lips across her mouth.

“You’re not real,” she muttered. “Too cold. This is a nightmare.” The realization made sense, and Tory clung to it. She had bad dreams often, haunting dreams that terrified her. “I locked the doors. You can’t be here.”

He quirked a brow at her statement, lowered his mouth to hers and spoke across her lips. “Then I should get you back to bed. No one wants to wake up on the floor.” He drew her lower lip between his, sucking lightly at it. His wandering hand crossed her cheek. Fingers combed into her loose hair. He paused. “Kiss me back.” His frown evidenced some inner pain. “Make me warm. I want to feel like you do.”

“Nightmare,” she said, breathless. The cold of his skin felt wrong. His tender kiss, though, stirred up other emotions.

Discover the author at: www.RabiyahBooks.com

Author Voice

2009-01-07T12:21:00.000-08:00

The first thing that was drilled into my head when I started editing for Forbidden Publications back in 2007 was that I should “never tamper with an author’s voice” during edits. Destroying an author’s unique voice and style of telling a story is a big controversy among publishers and authors alike. Recently, there was a movement to write fiction in active voice as opposed to passive voice. In general, many publishers’ guidelines do not want first person. Have you ever seen a story written in first person present tense? They’re out there, but they’re rare. One of the things that irks me in the writing profession is when I see publishers who limit their authors’ creativity by destroying their authors’ voices. Do we all want to write like Stephen King or Nora Roberts? No, we just want our books to sell as well as theirs do.

Author voice is defined in Wikipedia as “…a combination of a writer's use of syntax, diction, punctuation, character development, dialogue, etc., within a given body of text (or across several works). Voice can also be referred to as the specific fingerprint of an author, as every author has a different writing style.” So why do publishers and more succinctly, editors, want to cut off an author’s fingerprint and paste on a prefabricated fingerprint? The answer is simple. They want sales. If a publisher changes the way an author writes to fit the current fad, won’t that dupe a reader into thinking he or she has just discovered a new author who is as good as a big time author who writes the same way?

Think about your favorite books. Envision the style and hear the voice with which your favorite author speaks. Why does it appeal to you? Did you care about the tense, point-of-view, and sentence length? Chances are, if it’s one of your favorites, you cared about the story and the logistics that went into getting you from once upon a time to they lived happily for now or ever after weren’t an issue. A great author does that no matter the style or voice with which he or she writes. A good author gets close. A bad author is so messy that you can’t see the story. While I agree a publisher is in a position to judge what may or may not sell, I think it’s wrong to think that readers want vanilla flavor every time they buy.

In editing over the years I have noticed trends among authors. I’ve seen a voice riddled with adverbs for a children’s story, a poetic lilt just close enough to the edge of prose to be classified as such, and point-of-views that range from the dog to the secondary character in an erotic threesome—all these ways of storytelling have thrown me for a loop. Some were blatantly odd. Some were intriguing, but are they wrong? I suppose the real answer needs to come from readers.

For the authors out there, have you ever been told through your publisher to change a certain style in your writing that you know is a preference and issue of voice? If so, how did that make you feel? Did you fight it or go with it? Have you ever felt like a publisher made you change your story by forcing you to change your unique author voice?

TRS BLUE Interview

2009-01-04T08:17:00.001-08:00

Anastasia Rabiyah

Angela Harris was born into poverty to a mother who doesn’t love her. Her life changes at the age of nine when she says a few words to a mysterious stranger on her elderly neighbor’s balcony just before she discovers that the neighbor killed himself. After that night, she never quite feels alone. She struggles to make a life for herself but it all comes apart when her guardian angel reveals himself.

Order today from Amira Press

Reviews for Blood Angel
"Blood Angel is a motivating read. I could share in the pain that Angela felt with rejection. I could have shaken her mother a couple of times. There were moments I could almost relate to her character. I like the way she breaks through some of her shyness and low self-esteem to finally stand on her feet at times. The plot was well-created, and I liked the way Angela, Tommy and Rory were thrown into this equation. Anastasia Rabiyah draws believable characters and weaves a unique tale that kept this reader entertained." - Cherokee, Coffee Time Romance

Read an excerpt from Blood Angel
Visit Anastasia Rabiyah's web site

About Anastasia Rabiyah

Anastasia Rabiyah writes erotic romance, paranormal erotic romance, and fantasy. She often crosses genres in order to follow her muses into the darkness where they seek out destiny in all its forms. She believes in fairies, demons, angels, magic, passion, chocolate, supportive friends, e-books and writing critique groups. Her deepest desire is to pursue her creative dreams and realize them. Every spare moment she devotes to writing for her haunting muses.

Back list (by genre):

CONTEMPORARY:
Cowboys print anthology
The Envelope Room e-formats
Rope e-formats and part of the Cowboys
anthology
Seducing My Husband e-formats

DEMON:
Demons and Vampires print anthology
Demon in the Basement e-formats
Demonic Obsessions: Seventh Night
e-formats
The Noonday Demon e-formats only
My Guy E-Formats

FANTASY:
Darkwood Forest Works:
The Woods e-formats
Wolf's Gifte-formats
Goblin's Bride e-formats
God in the Stone e-formats
Gremlins An Anthology print
Hiram's Secret e-formats
Last Kiss of the Clan Dancer e-formats
Naughty Nine print
Oikoni Stone e-formats

Shahzar Series:
e-book formats:
Shahzar Warrior Queen
Shahzar Last Shan-Sei
Shahzar Sorcerer and Shadow
Shahzar Last Queen of Kaladia

print:
Shahzar Warrior Queen
Shahzar Last Shan-Sei
Shahzar Sorcerer and Shadow

FUTURISTIC:

Em-7 Series:
e-book formats:
Nimmet, Goddess of Love
Urden, God of Desire

print:
Nimmet, Goddes of Love

Mercer's Rebellion Series
e-book formats
Mercer's Rebellion: Derrick 7744

GAY:
The Blindfold e-book formats
MEN from His and His Kisses print

VAMPIRE:
Blood Angel e-book formats
Demons and Vampires print

My Publishers are: www.AmiraPress.com www.ForbiddenPublications.com www.loveyoudivine.com and www.MysticMoonPress.com

A note from Anastasia...

Blood Angel is part of a planned three novella series. Inspired by the idea that a woman can overcome any hardship set before her, the series has taken on a unique life of its own with dark vampire villains and hardships at every turn. Book Two: Charon has been contracted with Amira Press and is in the process of edits. Charon introduces a new villain, an aged vampire who is sent to avenge the death of his former lover. He plans to kill Angela, but when he comes face to face with his target, his plan changes. A lonely soul with a penchant for control and order, he sees in her his possible equal. Too bad she's already in love with another man.

Book Three is in the process of being outlined.

An Interview with Anastasia Rabiyah
By Holly Hewson for The Romance Studio
HH: Anastasia, thank you for talking with us at TRS BLUE. Please tell us about your featured book, Blood Angel.

AR: Holly, thank you for having me here and for all that you do for authors and readers of the genre. It’s always a pleasure.

Blood Angel is a dark vampire story about a young woman facing challenges and surviving even when she can’t overcome what’s set before her. I started the story as a short for a magazine submission some years ago, but never had success finding a home for it. As a result, I set it aside and came back to it after I started writing spicier works. I had evolved as a writer, and when I opened the story again, I saw ways to improve upon it and change it into a novella length work.

HH: Your heroine has a guardian angel who has watched over her since she was a child. When the angel's identity is revealed, she's a woman and her world comes undone... Where did you get the idea for this sensational story?

AR: The idea for Blood Angel came from my desire to create a vampire villain with some good intentions, but enough selfishness to take over the life of the very person he assumed to protect. Rory, the “guardian angel” in the story, sees in Angela, the heroine, a way to make amends for his shady past. He also desires love and companionship. I have a constant interest in villains and what drives them to do the things they do.

HH: What did you like best about Angela and how do you identify with her?

AR: I like Angela’s ability to carry on. She is faced with losing the man she loves, losing a child, a future, her humanity, and despite the odds against her which include an upbringing in poverty with a mother who doesn’t love her, Angela finds a way to thrive and carry on. I identify with her character. Life so often throws obstacles in our paths that seem impossible and often are, but we must push forward; we must follow our dreams and our intended path to their ends.

HH: What did you enjoy most about writing this sizzling tale?

AR: I enjoyed the determination of my character to get back to the man she fell in love with. Her high school sweetheart was her first and only love. Though she is torn away from him, she knows he’s out there somewhere and even when her memory is stolen by the villain, in his attempt to maintain control over her, she knows something is not right, that she is not where she belongs. There is an innocence and beauty in true love and loyalty, in following one’s heart back to where it belongs. I love and admire that about Angela.

HH: What did you find to be challenging?

AR: I found it difficult to suffer with my character. I become attached to them, and when they hurt, it’s painful to continue writing their story. There are scenes in Blood Angel that literally broke my heart, and some are direct reflections of happenings in my life.

HH: This is the first of a series of three books. What can you tell us about the other books to come like Charon?

AR: I had not originally intended to go on with Angela’s story until my publisher asked me to do so. She wanted to know what happened next, and what would befall Angela and Tommy. I started book two soon after, and the story is based on a powerful villain, Charon, a former boatman of the underworld. He is called upon and awakened by the soul of his ex-lover whom Angela killed in book one. Charon is a dark character, unable to love, disconnected from the humanity which he abandoned long ago. He goes forth to exact vengeance, but Angela entrances him. He thinks she is his equal and the counterpart he has so longed for in his lonely existence. But, true to her heart, she is in love with Tommy despite the fact that her very presence is making her lover insane.

Blood Angel Book Two: Charon, is a story about loneliness and the need for love and companionship no matter how impossible. I think it is a very human quality to want that for ourselves—that special someone who knows and understands us.

Book Three is still not clear in my mind, but I have faith in my muse. When he is ready to tell all, I’ll be waiting with my laptop or notebook to write out his confession.

HH: What else do you have in store for lucky readers in the new year?

AR: I have two releases scheduled in January: In the Moon’s Light at Forbidden Publications, a rather dark vampire erotic romance, and Demon’s Redemption at Mystic Moon Press which I co-authored with Sandy Samson. Demon’s Redemption is a silly, sweet love story between a demon and an angel that pulls in the woman the angel watches over and her lost love. It gets quite messy and complicated, but is sure to cause giggles.

My daily writing goal is 2,000 words which does not always happen, but I find having a goal keeps me driven. Currently, I have nine works in progress at varying levels of completion. I’m focusing on my co-authored pieces at the moment, of which there are four. I hope 2009 brings many more new books for me.

In March, I will be speaking on a panel of erotic romance authors at the Tucson Festival of Books, www.tucsonfestivalofbooks.com which should prove to be an interesting and exciting event. Authors Sherrill Quinn and Jill Knowles will be there beside me to talk about erotic romance and what makes our creative minds tick.

HH: What would you most like to accomplish in your writing career in the new year?

AR: I’d like to land a big publisher even though I love my smaller publishers dearly. I suppose every writer wants that mass market paperback in stock at the local brick and mortar as opposed to the pay on demand book. Another side of me thinks that’s silliness, and that e-books are the way to go. I’m hopeful I can keep up with the many goals I set for myself.

HH: Any new year's resolutions this year?

AR: I need to start walking more often as much for my health as for the need to get away from the keyboard and see the beauty all around me. Writing and the other duties I take on with the publishing industry keep me indoors in “cave-mode”. I hope I can start a garden again, one that my dogs and children won’t be able to destroy.

HH: What would you like to tell readers out there for the new year?

AR: My hope for everyone is that the New Year brings an end to war and the difficult economic times that have fallen upon us all over the world. My greatest wish is that everyone can be more accepting and empathetic for the people around them who are different. After all, we are all different in our own way, but human nonetheless. If every person in the world did just one small thing to help another person, imagine the wonders we could set in motion. Donate to the local food bank, volunteer to clean trash from a neighborhood, sponsor an impoverished child. There are so many small ways we can make the world a better place.

If a reader out there has never read my work before, stop by my website and have a look around. Much of what I write is dark or erotic, but there is always a light in the darkness to reach for.

www.RabiyahBooks.com

The Romance Studio's CAPA Nominees

2009-01-01T22:12:00.000-08:00

Dear Readers and Fellow Authors,

The Romance Studio has posted its nominees for their 2008 CAPA awards. Stop by the page at http://theromancestudio.com/capa.php and see if one of your favorite books is up for an award. There are many different categories, so look closely. Maybe you'll find new titles to add to your To Be Read pile as well.

My erotic anthology Naughty Nine has been nominated! If you've never read this spicy collection of paranormal and fantasy erotic romance tales, today is a good day to spend that gift card money on a hot read. Curl up in bed with this naughty print book and discover nine unexpected lovers from the fair mermaid to the lone werewolf. Fall in love over and over again.

Print ISBN: 978-1-60054-162-9
Genre: Paranormal Erotic Romance
Rating: Shooting Star
Price: $14.99

Have you dreamed of a handsome werewolf in your garden? Perhaps a lost love lurks in your past and you always wondered why he never appeared to you in the daylight hours. Why did dragons demand a virgin sacrifice? Can a centaur love a human woman? What makes a male fairy’s wings sprout? Can music soothe a demon’s fiery soul? Naughty Nine allows you to peek into the other side of erotic romance. Ecstasy lurks in the jungles, among the tides and in the shadows where you least expect it. A collection of nine steamy, short, erotica tales of unlikely love and passion await you.

Excerpt from Luciano:

A man stood in the shadows, tall and mysterious. Black hair framed his face, a face she could never forget. She blinked to be sure. He took a step toward her, his eyes reflecting the same wonder that flooded her heart.

“American?” he asked, his full lips curling with a knowing smile. This was how it began, only now, he knew the answer.

“Still.” She wanted to run to him, to throw her arms around his shoulders and cling there, lost and found and fulfilled all at once. Instead, she remained frozen.

“It’s been a long time, Audrey. Care to dance?” He moved with the grace only a predator possesses. Muscles rippled and tensed beneath the thin cotton shirt he wore. Blue jeans hugged his hips. He appeared exactly as she remembered him, her gaze rising to his face to be certain. The torchlight danced in his deep brown eyes. Long ago, she’d lost herself there and never wanted to return.

“I will, if you agree to one thing.” She swallowed her desire and promised herself not to give in too much. Bad enough he really showed up, that she’d finally found the one man that stirred up fire in her body she couldn’t find anywhere else. She’d spent so much time glancing over her shoulder or staring at men that sparked a memory, hoping it would be him. It never was, until now.

Luciano took her hands, his fingers warmer than she remembered. He leaned in to deliver a kiss to her cheek. His lips seared her skin. He pulled back only to move to the other side, searing the opposite cheek in the same way. How she wanted those lips on hers. “Name it.”

“Don’t let me wake up alone in the morning.” She squeezed his large hands, hoping he’d agree. It was a small thing to ask after what had happened last time.

His dark brows furrowed together. “You must understand. I have…obligations during the day. But every night, I’m yours.” He frowned. Moving in without warning, he traced his mouth over hers as if testing the waters of such an intimate gesture. He spoke against her lips, his breath tickling. “I can promise you every night after this, every night I’ll be at your side. Say you’ll stay.”

He reminded her of chocolate, the good kind that she couldn’t stop eating once she’d started. Luciano represented pure decadence and indulgence that Audrey needed to partake of. “You did the leaving last time.”

“And you did as well. I came back the night after and waited.” He kissed her and did so with extreme patience, his lips smooth, soft as silk. She wanted to freeze in that moment, to live that kiss forever and a day. An eternity of his tender lips would not be enough to sate her. Heat flourished between them. Her body awakened after a year of slumber. Warmth crept between her legs. The tiny flutter of trembling nerves sounded off in her womb just in case her mind didn’t get it.

Covey Awards

2008-12-31T15:16:00.000-08:00

I believe today is the last day to vote in The Covey Awards. The cover for my dark fantasy vampire tale Blood Angel is posted as an entry. If you have a moment, stop by http://thenewcoveycoverawards.blogspot.com/ and vote. Thank you!

I wish all of you a happy and safe New Year's Eve. May 2009 bring us all peace, prosperity, and dreams come true.

Much love,

Anastasia Rabiyah

Dark Demons

2008-12-29T19:23:00.000-08:00

What would you do if you discovered your lover was not exactly human? Dare to step into the darkness offered in these erotic dark fantasy tales by Anastasia Rabiyah. Heat up your cold winter nights with a hot read and a hot lover you soon won’t forget!

The Noonday Demon
www.AmiraPress.com

Abra has her life in order. Selling vibrant oil-pastel angels that she paints makes her a comfortable living. At noon a handsome stranger strides onto her property to mess with all her plans. Val sparks a passionate flame of desire with his shifting eyes and cocky remarks. His presence causes her to question the faith she's always held in herself. She can't get him out of her mind no matter how hard she tries. His regular noonday visits leave her wanting, and she soon realizes he's more than he appears to be. It's only a matter of time before she sins.

Demonic Obsessions: Seventh Night
www.AmiraPress.com

Born of a succubus and fathered by a man, Rurik will do anything to be a true demon and be accepted in the lower reaches of Hell. When his mother comes to him on the seventh night—the night when all demons fly to the living world to wreak havoc—he is excited about his assignment to defile a woman. He goes forth with high hopes, having been taught how to seduce and anxious to test his training. But when he catches sight of a beautiful woman suffering a nightmare in her bed, he is easily distracted. Her pliant body responds to his tempting touch. Her mind allows him in. He finds himself wanting her instead of the woman he has been assigned to defile.

Demon in the Basement
www.ForbiddenPublications.com

Enter the basement’s forgotten darkness and reach for the light of redemption. Find love and passion in an unlikely mate. Dare to look beyond what you see.
Emme has inherited her estranged father’s estate and vows to clean out all the evil he left behind. In the corner of the basement, she discovers one of the greatest of his forbidden treasures: Nazan, a demon that’s been trapped there since she fled the house as a teen. The broken demon is circled by salt, emaciated and bears scars left by years of cruelty and torture.
A caring woman who believes all creatures have their place in the world, Emme undertakes the arduous task to mend the wounds done to his soul, mind and body—to return him to his rightful state and place. Despite her unsettling attraction to him, a fiery heat occurring every time he touches her, she is determined to set the demon free. But he has other plans.

My Guy
www.loveyoudivine.com

Anne lazes through her Wednesday until a handsome guy with a thing for weird names and a whole bunch of scars comes in for a romp at the Chattel brothel. She’s in no mood for work, and he surprises her by only wanting to be held. She wants more, much more than she realizes at first. Everyone wants something special. Even a working girl wants to be loved. The guy with a new name every week wants something too, but forever is a scary thing, and the stars he reaches for burned out a long time ago.

Discover the Author at: www.RabiyahBooks.com

Delve into Anastasia’s world with a FREE READ available at AmiraPress:

Fire and Moon

Download your copy here: http://www.amirapress.com/shop/index.php?main_page=document_general_info&cPath=34&products_id=177

Fear Itself

2008-12-13T11:28:00.000-08:00

WARNING
© Marilyn Barbone | Dreamstime.com
"Never stop because you are afraid - you are never so likely to be wrong."
Fridtjof Nansen (1861–1930)
Norwegian explorer

That quote made me feel better about my future today. I'm posting it here in the hope that it will inspire someone else to face his or her fears and carry on.
-Anastasia

Coming Soon: Blood Angel Book II: Charon

2008-11-17T08:29:00.001-08:00

I've just clicked Send on the contract for Book Two in the Blood Angel series. Charon explores the villain's side in this spicy sequel to the trials Angela Harris must face after being turned into a vampire and trying to hold onto the love of the one man who is the only light in her dark life.

BLOOD ANGEL BOOK TWO: CHARON

By Anastasia Rabiyah

Coming Soon to Amira Press!

Charon is much more than a creature of darkness. Stripped of all humanity in order to fulfill his calling in Hell long ago, he lingers in the mortal world with no purpose to his existence. Bored of life, and death, he succumbs to the deep, protective veils of vampiric sleep. But when his former mistress calls to him from beyond the dead for vengeance, he is captivated by the alluring vision of a dark-skinned vampiress she wants him to destroy. Aroused by more than just his mistress’ avenging plea, he must also satisfy a blood debt he owes to her. Once more, Charon rises forth into the mortal world. Although a cold purveyor of death in his selfishness, his encounters with the intended target teach him that love is indeed possible for dark creatures such as them – but is love possible for him?

New Release: Demonic Obsessions: Seventh Night

2008-11-06T21:31:00.001-08:00

Dear Reader,
I have a new paranormal release for you available at http://www.amirapress.com/ and it's packed with erotic romance. Demonic Obsessions: Seventh Night is part of a demon themed collection of stories by Dahlia Rose, Crymsyn Hart, and me, Anastasia Rabiyah. Seventh Night is the final book to release and I hope you'll pick up your copy soon! Here's more about the story:

Demonic Obsessions: Seventh Night

by Anastasia Rabiyah

ISBN: 978-1-934475-98-0
Genre: Paranormal Erotic Romance
Cover Artist: Anastasia Rabiyah
Book Length: Novella
Heat Level: Hot

Direct Buy Link:

http://www.amirapress.com/shop/index.php?main_page=product_info&cPath=6&products_id=176

Born of a succubus and fathered by a man, Rurik will do anything to be a true demon and be accepted in the lower reaches of Hell. When his mother comes to him on the seventh night—the night when all demons fly to the living world to wreak havoc—he is excited about his assignment to defile a woman. He goes forth with high hopes, having been taught how to seduce and anxious to test his training. But when he catches sight of a beautiful woman suffering a nightmare in her bed, he is easily distracted. Her pliant body responds to his tempting touch. Her mind allows him in. He finds himself wanting her instead of the woman he has been assigned to defile.
Excerpt:
He glanced at himself in the looking glass by his mother’s bed. Human, he thought, abhorring his natural form. With the will of his demonic side, wings pushed their way from his back, searing him with exquisite pain. They were followed by the pointed tail he used to play with as a child. Horns sprouted from his temples, straight, gray, and pointed at their tips. He smiled, pleased, but this transformation lacked the full effect. His face remained unmarred, handsome in its own right and human. Rurik spread his great black and purple wings, ran and leapt over the railing, flying through the heat of Hell, and riding the updrafts toward the light.

The brilliant luminance of the living proved a struggle to pass through. His wings fought the cold brought on by the portal. Other demons’ bodies collided with his. Claws clipped his skin. Cackles of panic and cruelty rent the airless passage. Rurik closed his eyes and focused on the object of his mission, Durbin. A convent. Abbess. He had no clear concept of what the place looked like, but such trivial details did not matter.

Never had he coupled. The thought intrigued him, awakening his body to a fire that warded off the cold of passing through. When the chill left him, he opened his eyes to the dark night sky. The moon on this side bled orange, not as bold as how she showed from the high reaches of Hell. Stars glittered. Misty clouds blurred his vision. He watched the shadowy countryside below. Rows of crops lined the surface in patches. Here and there small houses cornered the lots, but he did not feel they were what he sought.

He breathed deep and tasted the scent of incense in the air. Incense and melting wax, the scent of a holy place, perfumes his mother described often when she relayed the sordid details of how she begot her only son. A cross rose from a steeple-topped building. Rurik dipped. He passed through a closed window, his demonic body slipping through solid mass as if it were ethereal.

The scent of living souls overwhelmed him. His mouth watered to taste them. So many women resided in this wing of the building that he heard their thoughts as a cacophony of musical lilting voices. He gripped the edge of a doorway and closed them off from his mind one by one. He gazed into the room by which he stood. A woman slept there, her gold hair braided and hanging over her shoulder. Her eyes rolled beneath their lids. “She dreams,” he said before stepping closer to inspect. He climbed atop her small bed and lay on her body, slipping past the rough coverlet and sheet until...
Read the rest of this excerpt at www.AmiraPress.com

Visit the Author at: http://www.rabiyahbooks.com/

Love Notes from The Muses Three

2008-10-20T19:11:00.000-07:00

October 20, 2008

OCTOBER EVENTS!

This month The Muses Three want to share some special events happening online for you to attend! Over at Amira Press, there’s a huge Halloween Spooktacular. New readers who join the Amira Press Yahoo Group are eligible to receive a free read. There are plenty of chats and costume parties going on that you won’t want to miss. Find out all the spooky details at www.AmiraPress.com

Participating authors of loveyoudivine are having a scavenger hunt and you can enter to win all kinds of cool prizes. All you need to do is go to the publisher’s site at www.loveyoudivine.com and download the Treasures of Desire free read. In it you’ll find all the details and the treasure map to get you started.

At The Muses Three Yahoo group we’re having weekly writing prompt questions. This week tell us which paranormal character from a book is your favorite and what you would do if you met him or her in a dark, spooky alley late at night. A random winner will be chosen from all of this week’s entries to receive a Bookworm Bag. Join our Yahoo Group here: http://groups.yahoo.com/group/TheMusesThree and you must be at least 18 years of age to do so. In order to claim your prize, you must be a member in good standing of The Muses Three Yahoo Group.

Anastasia Rabiyah is celebrating the availability of the dark fantasy collection GREMLINS An Anthology. Pre-order your copy of this decadent print book today for 20% off the suggested retail price at www.loveyoudivine.com. But hurry, the sale ends on Halloween, October 31, 2008! If you’re feeling gremliny, check out Ana’s MySpace page at www.MySpace.com/AnastasiaRabiyah to find out who has been gremlinified. Gremlinify yourself by changing your MySpace user name to GREMLIN “YOUR NAME” and email her on MySpace to let her know, and she’ll put you in her top friends and you’ll be entered to win a copy of the book! This gremlin party ends October 31, 2008. You must keep your Gremlin name until the contest ends to be eligible. For readers 18 years and older.

CALLING ALL AUTHORS:

Every Monday we invite you to stop by tell our readers about your available books. You are always welcome to chat and share jokes as well. Tell our readers what contests and events you have going on. Every Monday is promo day at The Muses Three. http://groups.yahoo.com/group/TheMusesThree

If you are a new or aspiring author, you are welcome to read the Tips for Authors articles on Anastasia Rabiyah’s website at www.RabiyahBooks.com. Check them out on the left side navigation bar.

CALLING ALL READERS:

Come chat with our authors every Monday and find new books to add to your to be read list. Share jokes and your thoughts about what makes a book great. What keeps you turning the pages well past your bedtime? Find out about all our news and new releases. We would love to have you as a part of our group!

CHECK OUT OUR BOOKS:

Amy by Dawné Dominique

Ebook ISBN 978 1-60054-215-2
Print ISBN 978-1-60054-213-8

Length: 6,275 Words

Genre: Erotica

Rating: Shooting Star

Price: 3:00

Available at: www.loveyoudivine.com

Amy Radcliff took the job as a paid escort for Cream of the Crop Escort Service to help pay off her accumulating student loans. In her final year of corporate law, they need to be paid off—and soon. After a girlfriend tells her how much money she can make as a paid escort, Amy jumps at the opportunity. Faced with her first client, who happens to be drop-dead gorgeous, and rich, Amy begins to realize that perhaps she’s not cut out for the position…or is she?

Will be part of lyd’s Seductive…and Sold Anthology!

Warrior’s Rise by Brieanna Robertson

Heat Index: Mainstream

Genre: Romance | Fantasy

Book Length: Epic Novel

Price: 6.99

Available at: www.ForbiddenPublications.com

Logan Savage is a man’s man. His idea of a good time has never included watching over and entertaining a bunch of kids at a summer camp. Especially when that camp happens to be full of kids with a love for mythology and medieval fantasy. In other words—a bunch of geeks. Unfortunately, in order to avoid a jail sentence for assaulting a cop, that’s exactly what he has to do. Head counselor and owner of the camp, Willow Avaris, is a nice surprise. Beautiful, fiery and sexy… Too bad she loathes his very existence. Plus, the kids are making his life a living nightmare. Could the summer get any worse?

Bravery and strength were things Logan always thought he had in spades, but as the summer goes on, and strange, surreal events take place around the camp, Logan is forced to look within himself and figure out what’s important to him. It’s safe to remain the self absorbed, shallow man he’s always been, but can he find the courage to reach inside and embrace the true warrior he was destined to become?

Naughty Nine by Anastasia Rabiyah

Print ISBN: 978-1-60054-162-9
Genre: Paranormal Erotic Romance
Rating: Shooting Star
Price: $14.99

Available at: www.loveyoudivine.com, www.Amazon.com, & Major Bookstores

Naughty Nine explores the passions of myths ranging from the fair mermaid to the cry of the lone werewolf. Dare to enter the darkness, to pass through into the realms of fairy. Seek out forbidden passion in the arms of an unexpected lover.

Have you dreamed of a handsome werewolf in your garden? Perhaps a lost love lurks in your past and you always wondered why he never appeared to you in the daylight hours. Why did dragons demand a virgin sacrifice? Can a centaur love a human woman? What makes a male fairy’s wings sprout? Can music soothe a demon’s fiery soul? Naughty Nine allows you to peek into the other side of erotic romance. Ecstasy lurks in the jungles, among the tides and in the shadows where you least expect it. A collection of nine steamy, short, erotica tales of unlikely love and passion await you.

FREE READS!

2008-10-18T21:16:00.001-07:00

Amira Press is having a Halloween party this month. Join the Amira Press reader group to keep track of all the new releases and get a free read! Choose from: The Awakening By Dawne' Dominique, You’re Mine By E. Jamie, The Amber Tomb By Sarah J. McNeal, Fire and Moon By Anastasia Rabiyah, Twins By Crymsyn Hart, or
Puppy Dog Eyes by Lesli Richardson. Ends October 31, 2008. Join here: Amira Press Reader Group and email our author liason, Dahlia Rose, to let her know how you heard about us and which selection you want at Vmochaxtasi1029@aol.com

Pride in the Desert

2008-10-18T16:14:00.000-07:00

Today I attended Pride in the Desert, a local gay pride event. I volunteered to help out at the GayTucson.com booth with the man who runs it, Tony Ray. The event was packed with people of all shapes and sizes, some in drag, some in street clothes, and many more showing their rainbow colors. We were treated to live music and plenty of entertainment. I tattooed passersby with GayTucson.com's rainbow sun logo and passed out bookmarks for MEN, the m/m anthology I contributed to.

GayTucson.com is a fabulous resource website for the local gay community. Tony Ray lists all the happenings in the area as well as gay friendly businesses and retailers. There is an "Ask Mom" column for anyone who wants to ask a mom of a gay child a question. Jobs, real estate, spirituality and even weather links are included.

At the event I was overwhelmed with the kindness of all the people I met. Arizona is a state in which gay marriage is not legal, and my feeling is that such a law is discriminatory. This year we have a proposition to define marriage as being between a man and a woman, even though gay marriage is already illegal here. I am disheartened that in this day and age, there is still hatred and prejudice. My hope for the future is that all people will one day be accepted for who they are.

Gremlins are waiting...

2008-10-03T18:40:00.000-07:00

Gremlins, a beautiful print anthology of seven dark fantasy tales blended with erotic romance, is available now for preorder. Go to my publisher's site at: www.loveyoudivine.com, click on Dark Fantasy and you'll see your very own Gremlins book waiting for you to buy.

It's on sale now for 20% off the cover price. Perfect for a Halloween read!

Step into a darkness riddled with mischief and mayhem. Gremlins weave a destructive magic all their own in this anthology from the creative minds of seven talented authors of dark fantasy and erotic romance. Be afraid, hold on to your heart, and keep a bright light nearby. Do you dare?

Dark Spookies

2008-09-22T14:14:00.001-07:00

Vampires, Demons, and Ghosts—the spookies we love and hate!

In my never ending quest to create villains, and even unique heroes, readers will fall for, I found myself researching some of the dark spookies in literature and film. This article is dedicated to them. I hope fellow authors and readers will find it interesting and add to the comments about their own experiences.

Vampires are a myth that appear in many cultures from Greek to Mexican. Popularized by the publication of The Vampyre by John Polidori in 1819 and Bram Stoker’s Dracula in 1897, they further grew to the now booming vampire genre in books and film we enjoy. Originally, vampires were described as ruddy or dark and went about drinking the blood of the living while wearing shrouds. They became sophisticated and intelligent predators with emotions and purpose in Stoker’s classic. Anne Rice’s vampires are some of the most well known to date due to her fantastic ability to weave reality into her settings and characters.

Demons are generally described as evil spirits. Sometimes we use the term demon to describe our fears or addictions as a way to set them apart from our conscience. We face our demons when we confront our fears or try to stop doing the bad things we do. In Christianity, demons are considered fallen angels who betrayed God by taking human wives. They then became the followers of the devil. Demons tend to be described as ugly, bearing horns, claws, and bat-like wings. They sometimes have hooves and tails, misshapen bodies, and sharp facial features. Being creatures of the ethereal, they may also shape shift or vanish in mists.

Ghosts are described as the soul of a departed person. Often they haunt a place or person related to them in life, sometimes even the place where they died. Most often if seen, they appear as a misty vision and are depicted that way in films. Some people claim to have been visited in dreams by ghosts. Believers think ghosts have not passed on to the next plane of existence because there is unfinished business left behind that must be completed before the soul can depart. There are many different kinds of ghosts from the poltergeist that makes noises to disturb the living to the benevolent ancestor ghosts who watch over their descendants.

So, what’s the deal? Why are readers and watchers attracted to these characters? People have been telling ghost stories ever since there was a fire to roast something over. Is it just the adrenaline rush of being scared? Or is there truth to these mysteries?

I’ve never met a vampire, but so many cultures with vampire lore can’t be wrong, can they? I’ve never met a demon. I do believe in the proverbial demon that makes me do bad things, and okay, I admit to believing in angels and demons that fell from a heaven into metaphorical darkness. As far as ghosts go…well, I had a dream shortly after my Grandmother died in which she wanted to give me something that was in a certain part of her house. The object kept changing in the dream. At first it was a dog, then a brass stag, then it became a doll. Strange indeed. When I visited her house with my mother some time later, there was a painting hanging in the very spot Grandma indicated in the dream. I had never noticed the painting before, and wasn’t especially moved by it, but mentioned my dream to my mother. I asked if no one wanted it, maybe I could have it because I felt Grandma wanted me to.

Mom found out that an uncle wanted the painting, so I shrugged it off and didn’t worry about it much. It was just a dream, right?

During my stay, my other uncle, my mother, and I all cleaned out a bunch of the belongings from the house and took them down to the local Salvation Army store as a donation a few days later. My other uncle—the one who wanted the painting—became upset by this, and asked that my mother accompany him on the last day of our visit to get back some of the items he had wanted to keep. I waited outside in the car with my young son.

When my mother and uncle returned, they had a copy of that same painting that had been sitting on the end of the first aisle they saw when they went inside. Sure, it could be coincidence, but it certainly feels like it’s not to me. I keep that painting in my bedroom where I can see it every day when I wake. It’s a landscape by an artist by the name of Windberg painted in 1970 called One Summer Day. (See www.Windberg.com to check out this artists’s beautiful work.) To me, the sky in the background looks like something, but I won’t say what for fear of being labeled as a loony.

Have you had any instances in your life that make you believe or at least question the existence of the paranormal spookies I mentioned?

Villains, Not Just for Evil Anymore!

2008-09-15T09:13:00.001-07:00

According to film critic, Roger Ebert, "Each film is only as good as its villain.” That holds true in literature as well. What makes a hero a hero? Sure, he has those innate characteristics that get good things done. He may save the heroine, the world, the day, but he’s not much of anything other than an ordinary guy unless he’s up against a dastardly villain. So what makes a good villain, the kind we love to hate and almost feel sad for when he loses?

There are many kinds of villains: anti-villains, archenemies, dark lords, evil twins, femme fatales, mad scientists, super villains, tragic villains, tricksters, lackeys, henchmen, minions, and secondary villains. They all have their place in literature and in the plot to take down or disparage the fantabulous hero. The kind of villain that stands out to me is the one who is very human. My favorite villains aren’t evil just for evil’s sake. They don’t want to take over the world or the city for a power trip. They’ve been driven to be who and what they are by circumstances in life, usually some rather nasty ones.

In fact, my favorite villain is the tragic villain. He does what he thinks is good, when in fact, it’s totally evil. He has serious motivation to make the decisions he takes on. He is not pure evil, but a rather muddled mixture of selfishness and insecurity. My favorite villain just wants to be loved and accepted like anyone else, but never will be, at least not in the conventional sense. He’s way too scary to receive anything other than fear and awed loyalty from his minions of doom. He might be good-looking, but women are put off by his wicked ways, unless they’re out for his money or power.

Redeeming a villain is a difficult task. In my writing, I have several types of villains, but I often fall for the one who has traits which are socially redeeming, however small and deeply buried from the general public. In Nimmet, Goddess of Love, the book begins in the villain’s point of view. He touches a statue he has recently acquired, a love goddess statue, and professes his belief that there is no such thing as love. It’s sad and poignant. What person doesn’t want love? How could a grown man reach such a state of emptiness? Leuj Irnia, the villain in Nimmet, is a man in need of new truths in his life. He needs a chance at redemption just as much as the hero in the story needs a chance at saving the city and the heroine.

I think it’s the parent in me that wants to redeem my villains. Face it. When your child flushes a whole roll of toilet paper down the pipes and you have to call in the plumber to snake the drain, you don’t want your child to do that again. You want him to learn from his mistake and not make that same mistake twice. You want him to do the right thing. I want my villains to learn as well. It’s possible I have too much respect for the evil characters, but because a good story is only as good as its villain, I want my villains to stand out and be remembered.

A villain who stands out to me most is Bram Stoker’s Dracula. I loved him, pitied him, and wanted him to win. That’s so wrong and yet, so right. Anakin Skywalker started off good and became the tragic villain; duped into thinking he was doing the right thing. So tell me readers, what is your favorite villain, the one that stands out in your mind? Why do you love to hate him or her so much?

Anastasia Rabiyah

Fall into a Great Book!

2008-09-08T12:45:00.000-07:00

Anastasia Rabiyah

Dark Fantasy & Erotic Romance

www.RabiyahBooks.com

It’s Monday and fall is in the air—or at least that’s what I’m trying to convince myself of. Here in Tucson, Arizona, it’s still as HOT as summer. I’m looking forward to my most favorite month of all—October. I love Halloween. Although our desert trees don’t have the beauty of leaves that change color, that crisp, clear feeling of change still lingers in the air. A phenomenon that makes me feel all things are possible, that I can do anything, be anything, and accomplish anything I set my heart on. With this weekly note, I hope you too, will catch that magic and find a way to realize your dreams, however small or outlandish they may be. Reach for the heavens and be what you were born to be.

Did you know I have several books available in print? It’s true. I do. And what better way for you to enjoy a cool fall afternoon than to sit outside on the porch while the leaves change and lose yourself in a great book? I write erotic romance in many cross genres, and one of these four (maybe all) is sure to find a welcome home on your to be read list:

May you always have much love,

Anastasia Rabiyah

www.RabiyahBooks.com

News, Contests, and Forbidden Love!

2008-09-01T14:04:00.000-07:00

News from Anastasia Rabiyah

Author of Dark Fantasy & Erotic Romance

www.RabiyahBooks.com

SCAVENGER HUNT OPENS TODAY!

Happy Labor Day to all those workers getting a day off in the United States. I hope you enjoy your time off and take a few hours to delve into a book! Summer is over, and it's time for the kids to get off to school and learn. Time for parents to get a little breather room. If you're looking for a good book and maybe even an author you've not read before, I have a fun scavenger hunt to tell you about! One of my publishers, Forbidden Publications, has gathered together a great group of authors to put on The Forbidden Hunt. Starting today, September 1, 2008, and running until the end of this month, you can hunt down hidden treasure boxes on the net and enter the drawing to win free books and prizes. For more details, and to get started, check out the official game page here: http://rabiyahbooks.com/TheForbiddenHunt.html

MONTH LONG PARTY AT THE MUSES THREE!

My fellow author, Brieanna Robertson, is hosting our shared Yahoo Group, The Muses Three this month. She's having a month-long party to celebrate the two year anniversary of signing her first book contract. Brieanna writes sweet romance and fantasy, and her characters will have you laughing, crying, and falling in the kind of love that lasts forever. I absolutely LOVE her stories and I know you will too. Come join The Muses Three today and enter her weekly contests for chances to win books and a terrific grand prize. Check out all the happenings at our group by joining here: http://groups.yahoo.com/group/TheMusesThree where readers and authors are always welcome!

NEW RELEASE TO SET YOUR SHEETS ON FIRE!

My latest release, Urden, God of Desire, from my publisher loveyoudivine, is out now in e-book formats! Do you love a tale where two enemies must come face to face, a romance with tension and danger, hot sex scenes and forbidden love? Urden, God of Desire has it all. Enrue Alonwei, high ruler of Taraf and Irnia, gets more than he bargains for when a messenger from the Kyleena Empire is sent to confront him about his loyalties. Her golden eyes and entrancing beauty snare this cold-hearted man in a web of lust and desire he's powerless to escape. Book two in the Em-7 Series can be downloaded here: www.loveyoudivine.com and if you're new to the series, grab a hold of book one, Nimmet, Goddess of Love, available in e-book formats and print.

May you always have much love,

Anastasia Rabiyah

Making a Man into a Hero

2008-08-18T23:21:00.000-07:00

What makes a man a hero? What makes him a character we want to read about in a book? What makes him someone we want to care about? In the case of the romance novel, what makes him worthy of being the one?
A hero (from Greek ἥρως hērōs[1]), in Greek mythology and folklore, was originally a demigod[2], the offspring of a mortal and a deity,[3] their cult being one of the most distinctive features of ancient Greek religion.
Later, hero (male) and heroine (female) came to refer to characters (fictional or historical) that, in the face of danger and adversity or from a position of weakness, display courage and the will for self-sacrifice – that is, heroism – for some greater good, originally of martial courage or excellence but extended to more general moral excellence.
Stories of heroism may serve as moral examples. In classical antiquity, hero cults – veneration of deified heroes such as Heracles, Perseus, and Achilles – played an important role in Ancient Greek religion. Politicians, ancient and modern, have employed hero worship for their own apotheosis (i.e., cult of personality). Etymology
The literal meaning of the word is "protector", "defender" or "guardian" and etymologically it is thought to be cognate with the name of the goddess Hera, the guardian of marriage; the postulated original forms of these words being *ἥρFως, hērwōs, and *ἭρFα, Hērwā, respectively. It is also thought to be a cognate of the Latin verb servo (original meaning: to preserve whole) and of the Avestan verb haurvaiti (to keep vigil over), although the original Proto-Indoeuropean root is unclear.
From Wikipedia: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Hero
Many women prefer to read romance with a strong alpha male as the main character, a man’s man, who will rescue the heroine, slay the villain, and conquer all. Hot in bed and hot out, sure, that’s pretty old-fashioned, but apparently still desirable in this day and age.
Maybe he’s not exactly a jerk, but he has some testosterone tendencies that make him a bit unappealing as well. Generally, the alpha male is stereotyped as the caveman like guy who will fight for the woman he loves at all costs. He rushes in without thinking things through. That could be dangerous and get him nabbed by the dastardly villain.
Some other downsides: He will not lift the toilet seat or wipe it when he tinkles—much less admit that he “tinkles”. Let’s face it; tinkle is not an alpha male word. He undoubtedly won’t wash the dishes, laundry, or make the bed—ever. He’s rough and tough and maybe needs his eyebrows plucked once in a while, but you’ll have to fight him to get the tweezers close enough to his unibrow. He’s very proud of his manly hairs, wherever they may be.
One dear author friend of mine had her well-endowed alpha male chewing aspirins and swallowing them without the aid of water. Whatever your alpha male preference, they all tend to have many of the same headstrong, winner-type characteristics which are conducive to success.
Beta males are different. They think with their other head most of the time. Oh, I bet I’ll get slapped for that comment. But it’s true. The beta male hero works things out, plans, plots, solves the problem with verve and finesse (totally not alpha words). He’s not afraid to show his feelings and really get to the nitty gritty by talking them out. He has no issues with washing up at home and helping his lover out. It’s how he shows he loves her.
Perhaps a difference in bed might be a beta male’s creativity and his willingness not to always be the dominate one between the sheets. Betas will spring romantic dinners on a mate that have been planned out for weeks. They’ll write love notes and hide them in places their lover will discover them. They’re ninety percent more thoughtful than the alpha male and far better at expressing it.
To be completely stereotypical, alpha males lift heavy things like boulders to smash the villain’s computer system. Beta males can hack into the program and override the password. Neither is really better or worse than the other. And come to think of it, I’m leaving a guy out. There’s another guy in town, and if you ask me, he’s way closer to reality than the alpha or the beta.
Meet the gamma male, a fantastic blending of both alpha and beta. Bold and brawny, he has the brains to slow down and think things through before he jumps in. Although impulsive, he’s always on the lookout for a way in that no one thought of when he scales the villain’s dark tower to rescue his damsel in distress.
For me, the gamma is the guy I fall for. Half cave man, half computer geek, he has the best of both sides and the blend leaves so many possibilities open. For erotic romance, he’s a hit in bed. For action and adventure, he’s a force to be reckoned with. Blend him in with vampire blood and you have a dangerous, sensitive creature of darkness that cannot be stopped.
Nevertheless, there’s a lot more to a man than his tendencies. All of those labels are nice to make us laugh or nod and say oh, yeah, I know a guy like that. What really makes any person who they are is what’s going on inside his head. What’s he thinking when he sees that heroine? What draws him to her? I’m a firm believer that in a successful relationship, the two people involved have found in the other person, traits they admire and often lack. I love the two halves making a whole theory.
Readers, what’s your favorite type of hero and more importantly, why?
Same for you, fellow authors, which do you love to write and why?

Offending Folks and Erotic Romance

2008-08-14T22:58:00.000-07:00

At my last booksigning on the 13th down by the UofA, I had my table set up at The Fat Greek restaurant with my books, my bookworm bags, and my big banner announcing: Anastasia Rabiyah
Dark Fantasy & Erotic Romance
Book Signing
On a prior occasion at one of these signings, a woman took a bookworm bag without reading the posted sign that explains that there is information about erotic romance books inside, and she became offended and promptly reported to the event coordinator that I was, "Pandering erotica to the new students." She didn't think that was appropriate at all, despite the fact that the students are of legal age. The event coordinator was well aware of the contents of the bags and the nature of my books, but reminded me not to let anyone slip by without warning them--not an easy feat when a crowd lingers, hence the sign that warns IN BIG RED LETTERS that you must be 18 and that there is erotic content inside.
I am, by nature, a shy person. My erotic writing still causes me to blush when I'm out in the public eye, and I really do make the best effort to make it clear that what I write is for adults. So, last night, when a gentleman paused at my table to look over my book and said he starts his day reading the bible and prefers to read non-fiction. I nodded and said, "Oh, then you don't want to take any of these bookworm bags. They have erotic romance in them."
With a solemn face, he then said: "Do you know what the bible says about sex?"
Frightened, I said, "No, what does it say?"
"It doesn't," he replied. "It's undecided."
This surprised me a little, but I still feared the wrath of a potential erotica hater. The man smiled slyly at me and went on, "I have no problem with erotica. I have a wife. In fact, God is involved in my sexual relationship with my wife. I hear his name being screamed all the time."
I burst out laughing. He made my whole night and I was smiling until it was time to leave! It just goes to show, you never know what people are thinking or what they might say. You never know how they'll react either.
Have you ever been in a situation like that?
Image © Madartists | Dreamstime.com

Contracted a Demon

2008-08-13T21:35:00.000-07:00

For those of you who like my paranormal erotic romance, I recently contracted a novella titled: Demonic Obsessions: Seventh Night, with my (WONDERFUL) publisher Amira Press. I am pleased to also share that this work is part of a themed set of books. My fellow authors Dahlia Rose and Crymsyn Hart have also authored demon tales and we've contracted both e-book and anthology print rights for our stories.

Here's the blurb from Seventh Night:
Born of a succubus and fathered by a man, Rurik will do anything to be a true demon and be accepted in the lower reaches of Hell. When his mother comes to him on the seventh night—the night when all demons fly to the living world to wreak havoc—he is excited about his assignment to defile a woman. He goes forth with high hopes, having been taught how to seduce and anxious to test his training. But when he catches sight of a beautiful woman suffering a nightmare in her bed, he is easily distracted. Her pliant body responds to his tempting touch. Her mind allows him in. He finds himself wanting her instead of the woman he has been assigned to defile.

Visit My Amazon Store

2008-08-03T17:03:00.001-07:00

http://astore.amazon.com/rabiyahbooksc-20

I now have a storefront on Amazon.com that has direct links to all my works available on Amazon as well as authors Dawne' Dominiques and Brieanna Robertson's. Stop by and check out our titles in print and ebook.

It's My Party and You Are Invited!

2008-06-30T16:20:00.001-07:00

Join The Muses Three, Anastasia Rabiyah, Brieanna Robertson and Dawné Dominique, at their Yahoo Group this July for a month long BIRTHDAY PARTY! Anastasia is celebrating her birthday all month with fat excerpts, silly questions and chances for READERS to win prize packs and free books. Come one, come all and join The Muses Three today! AUTHORS are invited to post designated excerpts on special days: July 1: Birthday Suit Excerpts. July 7: Naughty Excerpt Day. July 14: Paranormal Party. July 21: Laughter’s Medicine. July 28: Ah-ha! Moments. For more information, join the group and check the Files! Click the three muses above or go here: http://groups.yahoo.com/group/TheMusesThree

Do you like dark fantasy?

2008-06-16T00:14:00.001-07:00

Dear Reader,

Do you love dark fantasy, sci fi, and horror blended with erotic romance? If you do, there's a new place for you! Join the lydDarkAngels Yahoo group and meet up with the dark fantasy authors from loveyoudivine. We have some great events planned to entertain you and promise a slice of darkness that will keep you on the edge of your seat and get your heart pounding. Beware of vampires! Click the angel below or go to: www.groups.yahoo.com/group/lydDarkAngels

Book Signing #2

2008-06-02T23:13:00.001-07:00

Booksigning number two went a lot better than the first one. Now that I understand what to do and am getting more comfortable speaking to folks, it's a lot of fun. It helps to have a bookcover with a nude cowboy on it to draw eyes. (Thanks Sebastian, you're the best cover boy ever!) I handed out another 58 Bookworm Bags to interested romance readers. If you've never heard of Bookworm Bags, check out their website at: Bookwormbags.com .

Shahzar was the popular book this evening although Cowboys and Naughty Nine got some curious readers to scope out the back blurbs. I think they may have been embarrassed to buy them in front of their parents!

Thank you to everyone who stopped by to visit with me. Thank you also to all the authors who sent in their goodies for the BWB bags!

Much love,
Anastasia Rabiyah
http://rabiyahbooks.com/

Booksigning

2008-05-29T11:54:00.000-07:00

My first booksigning event was last night at The Fat Greek in celebration of the new student orientation for the University of Arizona. It's adorable to meet the freshmen--all so timid and wide-eyed. I'm sure they're overwhelmed by making the jump from high school to college. And here I am offering them goodie bags filled with romance promo.

The event went well. I gave out 58 bags and several bookmarks as well as flyers about Shahzar Warrior Queen. The weather was perfect, slightly breezy and not as hot at all once the sun set.

If you'll be in the Tucson area on Monday, June 2nd, stop on by and say hello!

Time and Ideas

2008-05-25T17:06:00.000-07:00

I wonder where my time goes. It seems in the morning that I have so much time, that anything is possible. I have my iced coffee, my breakfast, feed the dogs, the wees and water the plants and soon set to work tapping away at the keyboard with edits or (thank God) my own writing. I have not written for about a week and I swear this morning I was having withdrawals. The two main characters taking up space in my head right now are both rather demanding in their own ways.

Today, I wrote 6,000 words which is 4,000 over my daily goal. I'm working on Blood Angel II. Tomorrow, I hope to do the same for Althyn.

I've been thinking of adding some goodies to my website, maps, glossaries, character interviews and free reads. I need a clone of me just to keep up with the influx of ideas.

My booksigning events are fast approaching. I'll be at The Fat Greek restaurant in Tucson on May 28, June 2, 5, 9, 13, 16, 19, 23, 26, July 7 and August 13 from 7:30PM until close. The restaurant is located at 994 E. University Blvd. A limited supply of Shahzar Warrior Queen, Naughty Nine, and Cowboys will be on site for you to buy, all signed by me.

Also, my futuristic erotic romance, Nimmet Goddess of Love, is zipping through the mail, heading my way so I can proof her. Cross your fingers. As much as I love this story, there's a mysterious jinx upon it. It was first subbed to Ellora's Cave and they "never received the submision" and then it was subbed to Twilight Fantasies Publications, contracted, and then they closed their doors. Nimmet's third sub was made to loveyoudivine where she has been released in ebook formats. Print has been a chore to get going. I like pretties in my print book, little decorative thingies that add some style. Nimmet's decor didn't sit well with the printer and it was rejected, leading to a whole reformat. Holding that book in my hands will be a small victory against the jinx.

My next release will be my gremlin tale: Hiram's Secret. In the style of pure dark fantasy with my mingling of erotic romance, this tale is sure to have you reading into the night. Hiram's Secret will eventually release with a series of other gremlin themed tales as a print anthology from loveyoudivine, so stay tuned.

Yoda

2008-05-13T10:29:00.000-07:00

"Do or do not. There is no try."
-Yoda
Jedi master, from the "Star Wars" series

Ah the amazing wisdom of StarWars. As a child those words stuck in my mind. They were so simple and yet, so true. You either do it or you don't. No use whining about it; no use blubbering. Gotta love the green guy.

Most of the time I feel like the world is squishing me, like there's so much to be done and so little time. My head is jam-packed with all these ideas to write. There's chores to be done, children, hubbie, and pets to tend. Books to edit and line edit, and re-read before I turn them in. Cover art request forms taht need to be interpreted and art to be put together. Quickbooks entries to be made. Book signings to make appointments for and that dread stain in the toilet. Where is a pumous stone when you need one?

I guess I better listed to the green guy and go Nike. Just do it!

New Release: Blood Angel

2008-05-02T22:52:00.001-07:00

Blood Angel

Starting at: $5.00

ISBN: 978-1-934475-70-6
Genre: Vampire Interracial Romance
Cover Artist: Anastasia Rabiyah
Book Length: Novella
Heat Level: Spicy

Forced into vampiric darkness, Angela struggles toward the light.

Angela Harris is born into poverty to a mother who doesn’t love her. Her life changes at the age of nine when she says a few words to a mysterious stranger on her neighbor’s balcony just before she discovers that the man killed himself. After that night, she never quite feels alone. She struggles to make a life for herself but it all comes apart when her guardian angel reveals himself.

Someone walked by, a dark shadow, tall and manly. I knew he couldn’t see us in the shadows. Sniffing the air, I found his scent familiar. I stood and left the woman there, planning to return and dispose of her before too long. I wanted to taste this man first.

He walked with purpose. I kept pace just behind. He wore a business suit, had a laptop bag even. He looked out of place in the dregs of downtown. I licked my lips and moved closer.

At a payphone, he stopped and fumbled in his pocket for change.

I breathed deep, confusion washing over me.

“Yeah, hey, Rich. Look, my car died. Can you come get me?”

Five steps away from the man, I stopped in my tracks.

His back was to me when he laughed.

I gasped.

As he gave directions to the person on the phone, I shook my head in disbelief. He put the receiver in place and faced me. Shock widened his eyes. His mouth hung lax while he took in the sight of me.

“Angela? Angela Harris?” A pleasant smile lit up his face. He came toward me, his arms outstretched. I wanted to back away, maybe step aside. This couldn’t be real. He crushed me in an embrace.

I stared up into those big blue eyes and awoke from my dark dreams. Tommy Davis was before me. And I was a wretched creature. A minute more and he would have been dead. I had followed him with the intent of killing him.

“Yes,” I muttered trying to keep my teeth hidden. “Yes, and you’re Tommy.”

“What happened to you? You never came back to class.”

“My mom died.”

“Oh God, I’m sorry to hear that. You look . . . you look different . . . but good.”

“Yeah, you look just the same.” It was too much for me, the closeness of him. This big lug of a football player holding me, he was even cuter now that he’d aged a bit. And what was he thinking of me? What did I look like? My clothes were stolen from a dancer I had found on Park and Third. She was nearly gone, crack or heroin, I couldn’t be sure. Did I look like a streetwalker or maybe someone going out to a bar? I looked cheap.

“I have to go,” I said in a rush. “Big date and all.”

“Oh,” he said, a frown turning his lips down. His arms fell away and I wanted them back. I hadn’t even returned his hug. “Well, it’s good to see you again. Listen, I could give you my number. Maybe we could go out sometime.”

“Yeah, yeah that would be great.”

“Angela Harris,” he said, wistful. “I’ve been looking for you since high school. You just . . . vanished.”

Slip into the darkness with Angela. Download your copy of Blood Angel at: www.AmiraPress.com

Some Love Notes...

2008-05-01T16:43:00.000-07:00

Dear Readers,

Tonight, Dawne' Dominique and Anastasia Rabiyah will be at the chatroom at http://loveyoudivine.com helping a fellow author out for his first ebook release chat. If you have a chance to stop by at 8 Central, come join the fun. His name is Bret Jordan, and he's got a naughty gremlin tale to tell us about called: The Witch, the Hunter and the Bride and a prize to win! His book is part of a themed series of gremlin tales coming out from our publisher. Don't think gremlins are erotic? Maybe his isn't, but mine his. ^^

Also, starting today, Amira Press is having a scavenger hunt and several of the authors there, me included, have donated some fun prizes for the big winner who gets all the answers right and has his or her name drawn. Check out the rules here: http://www.amirapress.com/apnews.htm

I have a new release available today from http://ForbiddenPublications.com called Shahzar, Last Queen of Kaladia. It's the fourth book in the Shahzar series and a fantasy/romance of epic proportions. Here's a bit of info about my warrior queen's last book:

Shahzar journeys home to face the invading Klemish army, and to allow her husband, Roderick, to know their goddess, Ishas, a faith he denied when the two first met. Fearing his obsession with the dark powers of Shan-Sei, she wants nothing more than to return to the safety and peace of the forestlands. But he presses her forth in his quest to understand himself.

Powers shift on enemy soil when Queen Ashandera of Klem, reaches for control of her city and peace with Kaladia. Her brother-in-law and son form an alliance to further her deceased husband’s ideals and drive to destroy all who worship the fallen goddess.

Roderick plays his part in the war as Shahzar originally intended and one final time, Ishas, the fallen goddess, forces Shahzar to choose between love and duty. In the end, will the Warrior Queen come to understand the true light of Ishas, or will she fall into the cold darkness so often lapping at her soul?

Excerpt:

Shahzar sat beside the driver shrouded in the forest green her husband preferred. She watched the thick trees’ shadows on either side of the road thin and eventually vanish. The passage to the desert appeared well trodden, which made the smooth road an easy journey. When they crossed into the sands, she felt the change come over her body. The cold returned stronger than ever. It made her fingers tingle, her body quake.

At that same moment, Roderick cried out.

“Stop!” Shahzar screamed.

The driver pulled the reins to the side and the carriage parted from the others in line. It halted by the mound of sand flanking the road. The entire caravan started to slow because the six drivers refused to leave behind one of their own.

Shahzar jumped down, her boots sending a cloud of sand into the air around her ankles. The sky had taken on the eerie blue of midnight, casting the sister moons’ glow across the dunes. She could hear Roderick talking within the confines of the carriage, his high-pitched voice racing over words in Shan-Sei and Edchir. She grasped the handle and wrenched the door open. Darkness rushed out, ghostly wraiths swirling about, touching her with outstretched fingers. She climbed the ladder, and went inside, ignoring them.

Roderick sat on the floor, his eyes fixed on one of the dark spirits. She knew by the intensity of her husband’s gaze that he could see the ghost. Worse, he spoke to it.

“Roderick?”

The sorcerer finished his sentence and turned to regard his wife. “What have you done, Shah? Why did you call them? The grave won’t take them back now.”

Her eyes narrowed, and she backed away from the carriage.

He moved to follow her. “I told you the ways of Shan-Sei were dark.”

“You wanted to come here,” she countered.

The couple faced each other on the trampled road. The oxen and draft horses in the caravan pawed at the ground, anxious to move again. The still air seemed to make them nervous.

Roderick looked around, seeing the wastelands for the first time. “This is an unnatural place,” he said. “It makes no sense that the tallest trees give way to a vast sand-covered emptiness. Where is the in-between where trees have tried to root within the desert, or sand has seeped onto the forest floor?” He eyed the forestlands behind them, the dark wall of foliage and trees.

“I know. I want to go home,” she said, glancing at the road behind them. “Are you sure you must see Kaladia? Let’s go home, back to the hold.”

Roderick reached down to grasp a handful of sand. He closed his eyes and let it drizzle through his fingers. “What have they done here?” he said to himself. “The earth is weeping and no one has heard it for so long. No one has tried to comfort it. And yet, if I will it, it will move for me. I can see how to do this. It will obey me. It knows me.”

“You say things that make no sense,” Shahzar cried. “You’re frightening me.”

His brows furrowed, and he shrugged. “Don’t you feel it?”

She shook her head.

“Let me show you.” Again he knelt and took up a fistful of sand. Roderick closed his eyes and opened his palm. The particles rose up, swirled in a small whirlwind above his hand and floated there. “See?” He opened his eyes and smiled at her look of shock. He let his hand fall back to his side and the sand continued to float as he willed it. “The old ones changed the land, made it malleable. But they went too far and it killed everything.” The sand curled in on itself until it formed a sphere.

Shahzar frowned. Behind Roderick the spirits waited, gathering in the carriage to speak with him again. “Go!” she ordered, waving her hand at them.

Roderick turned and sighed as the dark ones obeyed and fled back into the shadows. “They listen to you.” His statement reflected his surprise. Her own magic was not nearly as developed as his and yet they obeyed her as if she were a great sorceress.

“Of course they do,” she murmured. “They’re Shan-Sei, and I am their queen.”

Roderick willed the ball higher in the air until it hovered in front of his face. “But can you raise the sand?” he asked, a hint of challenge in his voice.

She smirked at him.

He chuckled and the ball fell apart and crashed back onto the road. For a moment, the white light flashed in his eyes.

Shahzar shook her head. “Let’s go home,” she breathed. “I just want to go back home.”

The light faded, and he frowned. “I want to see the city of my father. I want to touch the icon on the altar in the Shan-Sei temple, and pray in the circle room where he prayed as a boy.”

She pursed her lips and looked away. There is no use arguing with him, she knew. She surveyed the carts and men waiting for her to start the caravan again. The longer they stood there, the longer it would be to get to Kaladia. And the longer it would be before she could convince her husband to go back home.

“If it’s not what you imagined…” She turned her back on him so he wouldn’t be able to tell how tense she’d become. “Promise me we’ll return to the forestlands. Your father didn’t want you to go to Kaladia. Before you found me, you didn’t want it, but now I see its darkness all around you, calling you there.”

“I’m too strong for it,” Roderick assured her. He placed a hand on her shoulder, and she could feel the cold of his skin through her cloak. “The dark power cannot corrupt me. I only wish to feel it, to know its strength.”

“Promise me,” she repeated.

He clapped his hands together and she felt the flutter of wings by her face. A raven sped past, its inky feathers grazing her skin, but the smell of the bird was all wrong. Shahzar looked over her shoulder as he clapped another incarnation into being. The second one flew up and landed on the top of the carriage.

“Stop that. You promise me now, or I’m turning and going back to the forest alone!”

A third rose, different than the first two. “Look,” he chortled, excited over his new trick. “A rook.”

Her hand found the hilt of her dagger. “Promise me now!”

You can download your very own copy at: http://www.forbiddenpublications.com/book_pages/shahzar_book4.html

Spike's Photoshoot.

2008-04-21T16:35:00.001-07:00

Spike gets baths on a regular basis to prevent infection of the wounds on his lower back. He has a nice (okay yeah it's gross-looking) scab forming over his owie and I'm hopeful he'll heal up.

After his bath, he gets towelled off gently with a clean washcloth. He tolerates this treatment well of late. At first, he was rather pissed about the whole ordeal and tried to bite my fingers off.

Here's a glimpse of his sexy blue belly. Males have more colors than females and show them off in the wild by doing macho pushups to woo the chicks. Spike must have wooed the wrong lady before he was attacked.

Cross your fingers for this lil guy. I hope he makes it. He's never going to walk right again, but he gets around pretty quick with his three good legs.

Meet Spike.

2008-04-20T10:02:00.000-07:00

I know this is off topic of writing/editing/cover design, but it's something that's affectd my life in a small, strange way. My husband and I are planning on building our new house on a plot of 2.5 acres of land in the county. The land has a mesquite berm in the front part of the property where my kids like to run and play. While visiting the land, hubbie spotted a lizard in a tree. I was sitting at my usual table, enjoying the peace when all the kids started to screech with excitement. Even the neighbor with his two dogs was over there trying to see the lizard.

Eventually I was called over to capture the poor creature--me being the resident animal catcher in the family. I've been bringing varmits and critters home since I was old enough to walk, from snails to spider to snakes. I have caught them all. Anyhow, I went over to the tree. The rather scaly, spiny lizard of about six inches, clung to a tree limb by only his front legs. His rear legs looked dead and he had a nasty-looking blood and filth splotch on his back. He was injured, probably by a local cat or a hawk.

I snatched him off the limb and took him to sit with me where he promptly showed off his lizardy teeth and scawry reptilian mouth. After holding him for a while, I decided to bring the little monster home. I'm a sucker for mean nasties with claws and tails as many of you know by reading my fantasy tales.

After a wash in the kitchen sink, I placed him in an old snake cage with some fresh water. He hung out in there and showed off his scawry mouth to any child who came too close. The next evening, I set him free in the front yard, hopeful that it would be a better paradise for him as suburbia here has substantially fewer hawks and our five wee dogs tend to bark loud enough to frighten away any evil cats of doom looking for lizard appetizers.

The following morning, as I went to take the kids to school, there was Spike sitting on a rock, not two feet from where I'd let him go. He didn't look well, but how well can a lizard with a broken leg and blunt trauma to his body look? I left him there and decided if he remained by the time I got back that I'd offer him the cage and see if he ran or went in.

Back home, Spike sat there, staring at me. I rested the cage on its side by him, touched his tail and he crawled in at his own slow, pained space. Ugh. Now I had a ward to care for. A ward that acted like he wants to bite me.

I gave him fresh water and um, hand fed him scrambled eggs. Look, I don't have much more than rollie-pollies here. I have to make do. That night he had bits of cooked hamburger. This morning he ate small bites of banana bread. I suppose I better get off my duff and cook something for my lizard.

This is from Wikipedia:

Sceloporus magister, also known as the twin-spotted spiny lizard or the desert spiny lizard. Desert spiny lizards eat insects and rarely, small plants.

The desert spiny lizard is a cold blooded animal living in the Sonoran Desert in Arizona. Their scientific name is sceloporus magister. Their other type called the Clark spiny lizard’s scientific name is Sceloporus clarkii.

The way the Desert spiny lizard stays warm like many desert lizards is by changing their color to be darker during cool times. To be absorbing more heat from the sun. Lighter during warm times so then reflecting more of the solar radiation (rays). The spiny lizard also camouflages in the places to not be seen easily.

Like all desert reptiles, the spiny lizard spends most of the day inactive in the
burrows. Burrows are much cooler than the ground's surface.

(The image of the Spiny lizard included in this post is from Wikipedia. After I feed the kids, the dog, the hubbie and the lizard, maybe I'll do a photo shoot with the little critter.)

Monday Zoom!

2008-04-14T19:03:00.001-07:00

"After one has discovered what he is called for, he should set out to do it with all of the power that he has in his system."

Martin Luther King Jr. (1929-1968)
American civil rights leader

Wow, what an appropriate quote of the day for me. I'm busy writing for two anthologies, two co-authored works, and then there's my usual writing.
*pant, pant*

Just thought I'd share that bit of inspiration with everyone!

Anastasia Rabiyah
RabiyahBooks.com

Binge Writing Goal Met!

2008-04-08T21:29:00.000-07:00

Well, I did it. 30K in a week or so to be exact. An old short story that spanned only 3k grew into a mini monster that bit my neck and wouldn't let go until I finished it. My head hurts; my fingies are tired of typing. I'm hopeful Amira Press will take Blood Angel and approve the cover art I subbed. Wish me luck.

This tale is dark and sad. Makes me cry in some places, but like all sad bits, there's a light at the end of the tunnel.

*takes deep breath*

Okay. I need some chocolate...

Evil Test

2008-04-06T22:43:00.001-07:00

I just couldn't resist taking this.

Raw evil score: 64.44%

Vampires on a Friday

2008-04-04T11:38:00.000-07:00

Ah Friday, what better way to spend the day than watching the plumber snake the main sewer line for tree roots? Gotta love an old house with all its quirks and expensive repairs. I can't wait until our new house is built where I can sit back, relax, and enjoy the "new house" quirks it will have.

This week I've been keeping myself busy. I turned in the final copy of Brieanna Robertson's Beyond Wild Imaginings. Great e-book that will eventually release at Forbidden Publications. It's all about an author whose in a slump because her long-time boyfriend dumped her after she got in a bad car accident. Writer's block and the general slovenliness of a person whose hit rock bottom take over her life...that is until someone from her childhood returns for an unexpected visit. For anyone who had an imaginary friend as a kid, this one's for you. I read it in three nights flat. Couldn't put it down. I love Brieanna's easy, comical and heart-touching style. If you've never read her tales, you're missing out.

I also finished the first pass of edits on Eden's Seed by Damien Peck, my Scottish author. Fabulous tale about a "seed" from ancient times with the ability to make people immortal and the nasty fight to control it. A powerful pharmaceutical company wants to be the sole provider and blackmails all the other big players for rights of use. Mr. Peck will take you on a dangerous quest with this one, all over the world to chase down Eden's Seed.

I've been creating cover art and if you're curious to see my latest, stop by my web site at: RabiyahBooks.com and check out the Art page. I design covers for loveyoudivine, Forbidden Publications and just recently, Amira Press. By far this is one of my most enjoyable tasks in my writing endeavors. By the age of five I knew I wanted to be an artist. Hubbie says I'm a starving artist. Good thing he can cook.

I've most recently been bitten by an old muse from the days when I first began toying with adult literature. The piece I'm currently binge writing is called Blood Angel and it's been promised to Yvette at Amira Press. I'm hoping to reach 30K words by the end of this week and get it subbed to her. It's all about Angela, a young woman with a rough life and a mean mom. Unfortunately, Angela draws the eye of a vampire who thinks of himself as her guardian angel. With the best of intentions and the worst of actions, he steals her away from her life and tries to keep her all to himself. I'm at 17K as of today and about to plunge into writing more on it after Mr. Plumber Man leaves.

I'll leave you with a quote and silly note about myself:

"You miss 100 percent of the shots you never take." -Wayne Gretzky (1961 - )
Canadian NHL coach and retired ice hockey player

When I was in high school, I thought Wayne Gretsky was a BABE! *drools* Apparently this lady does too:

So how has your Friday been?

Roasted Elephant

2008-03-28T13:25:00.000-07:00

"Don't let what you cannot do interfere with what you can do." -John Wooden (1910 - ) Hall of Fame basketball coach for UCLA, won a record 10 NCAA men's championships.

That's a good one. I need to read that every day I think. I often get discouraged when I look at the tasks before me--so many daunting projects--that I lose sight of the old addage I try to live by. "How do you eat an elephant? One bite at a time."

Okay yeah, who the heck wants to eat an elephant? Thing is, I like a lot of stuff to do. I get bored easily and tend to binge work when I get into something I like. My brother and my dad both work that same way. I'd say it borders on being obsessive compulsive. I'll also say it drives my husband nuts. Oh well. I gotta be me or who else would I be?

With this little tidbit of wisdom, take heart. You may not be able to get everything done in one fell swoop. You may not be able to do ten loads of laundry in one day. You can, however, do a couple of loads each day so that by the end of the week, you have little to none left.

Writing books is like that. A chapter a day. A chapter a week. Little by little the monster gets done.

Life is like that. We do a small bit each hour, each day, each week, until we finally reach milestones: love, marriage, children, college degrees, our own busniess. That's what it's all about. The Hokey Pokey of Attainment.

Small increments equal big goals in the end. So next time you feel overwhelmed, just do what you CAN do at the moment and realize you're slowly reaching a much larger goal. Stay on track. Don't stress. Don't worry. That won't get you anywhere at all. Just go along at your own pace.

What do you do to get your monsters done?

Ben Franklin and Ramble

2008-03-19T09:52:00.000-07:00

"Tell me and I forget. Teach me and I remember. Involve me and I learn." -Benjamin Franklin (1706-1790)

That's an oldie in the way of quotes, but still a goodie. Let's see how I can apply it to my life.

In moderating online writing critique groups and editing for my publishers, I've passed on a wealth of information which I've learned to aspiring and newly contracted authors. Someone taught me though, and for that I am grateful and strive to continue passing on that knowledge. I have been fortunate to have fellow authors who pointed out my head-popping issues when I posted my first novel for reviews. Some were tactful, others were harsh. But regardless of the way in which they told me I was messing up, I took criticism with a grain of salt and an ounce of chocolate and gleaned out what would help me.

As far as children go, when my husband and I began shopping for local schools in which to send our sons, we came across a Montessori school. The waiting list was huge and the school was small. It was a great place, and we had hoped to get our children in there, but after a year and a half of resigning to the list, we gave up. The one thing I learned from visiting that school is that children need to be encouraged to learn and do for themselves. Allowing them to put on and tie their own shoes, pickout their own clothes and getting ready each day is all a part of preparing them for real life. I teach this kind of independence to my sons by showing them how and letting them continue to cook, garden, care for their pets and properly nudging them about cleaning their rooms. When we go eat at our restaurant or at a friend's house and they want a drink, I do not go and get it for my children if they are able to get it themselves. Surprisingly, they enjoy this freedom and it seems to give them a feeling of accomplishment. Many friends, especially the older generations, don't understand my reasoning.

I apply learning to my life daily, striving to discover how to do things I admire, or how to make things others usually do, but that I know I could do the way I want if only I had the technique down. I'm not always right, but hey, at least I try. That's what life is all about, really.

How do you apply Ben's words of wisdom to your life?

Review: Shahzar III Sorcerer and Shadow

2008-03-16T13:50:00.000-07:00

It's raining outside, dreary-looking and I need to get chores done and head off to buy some party supplies for my father-in-law' s surprise 76th birthday party. What better way to start the day than to open an email from Coffee Time Romance to find a pleasant review for Shahzar Book III: Sorcerer and Shadow? The reviewer must be following the series because she's the same one who read the first two books. She nailed the tale in her comments. Here's the full monty for you to read as well:

SHAHZAR BOOK THREE: SORCERER AND SHADOW
ANASTASIA RABIYAH
ISBN: unavailable
February 2008
Forbidden Publications
www.ForbiddenPublic ations.com
E-Book
$4.99
102 Pages
Fantasy Romance
Rating: 4 Cups

Shahzar is happy in Roderick's arms. She would prefer to forget her life as Queen of Kaladia, but Ishas continues to call to her, even though she is far from home. Even at a distance, she can feel the advance of the Klemish forces upon her city.

Raynier is a bishop, not a king. But in Shahzar's absence, he is the one who must assume responsibility for Kaladia. He proposes a unique solution to the Klemish threat, to which even Irlecain agrees. Dalin must be stopped, at all costs.

Shahzar and Roderick's days of peaceful bliss are numbered. The shadows which Shahzar evoked have given her unlimited powers, but they have also lured in the Shan-Sei. Roderick seems powerless to resist, and Shahzar feels the danger to him increase with each passing day. Kaladia is in constant threat from Dalin and his forces. Raynier and Irlecain are doing everything in their power to save the city, but both long for the return of their Queen. Shahzar is being pulled by so many forces, all drawing her back to the city that holds her heart…in an icy grip. The choice—to stay or return—may no longer be hers to make.

Book Three in this series is very bittersweet. Shahzar is finally happy, but it is an ephemeral emotion. Her character is evolving into much more than the warrior that she started out to be. Raynier's character has also developed into a much stronger and commanding individual. They both find themselves with a tenuous hold on their control, and must struggle against battering forces. As this series unfolds, it wraps around you, and does not let go.

Lototy
Reviewer for Coffee Time Romance
Reviewer for Karen Find Out About New Books

To Buy Shahzar, Click HERE

Friends

2008-03-16T01:18:00.000-07:00

I'll take a time-out from my usual bloggage to talk about friends and what they mean to me. The other day I took my three sons out to McDonalds to eat, and then we all were going to go shopping for craft projects to do together. As we sat and ate our food, I explained that their father was out with his friends watching a game. I went on further to say that I was out with my friends too. My oldest piped up and said something a little sad and shocking to me, "You don't have any friends."

"Yes I do," I replied, "I have all three of you."

Mommyhood has changed a lot of things in my life. For one, I don't go to work outside the home on a regular basis. I've been out of the contact with adults loop for a while. (I'm great at building a fort or catching lizards. Pro at doing voices when I read Snow White too.) Part of this is because all of my close friends are also married with a lot of kids and their children are older than mine. There are sports, band practice, church groups, and Girl Scouts they have to cart their wee ones to every week. All of my friends work full time outside the home, much unlike me. We don't see each other like we used to and it reminds me of that movie: The Big Chill.

If you've never seen it, in that movie this group of friends gets together after one from their once close-knit group has killed himself. They talk about old times. They share memories and they realize how good it was when they could be together. Most importantly, they try to figure out why they grew apart.

My only point is, for anyone out there who has been lucky enough to find a true friend, a person who stands by you through the worst of times, someone who gets your personal brand of weird and likes you just the way you are, find a way to make it keep happening.

I've always been an introvert, a shy, nerdy person content to vacate reality for my world of dreams and darkness, but I still need my friends, even if they're busy and even if, at the time, they might not even be old enough to drive yet. Friends make us whole.

The quotes below sum up what I see in a true friend. I'm odd. I've known that all my life, but I'm okay with that. I like myself just fine, and my closest friends may not be able to give me a hug due to the mileage that separates us, but they know me, the real me on the inside, and they love me for it.

"A friend is one who walks in when others walk out." -Walter Winchell

"A friend is someone who knows the song in your heart, and can sing it back to you when you have forgotten the words." - Donna Roberts

"A friend is one who believes in you when you have ceased to believe in yourself." - Lysha

Never Give Up

2008-03-13T11:54:00.000-07:00

"Just don't give up on trying to do what you really want to do. Where there is love and inspiration, I don't think you can go wrong." -Ella Fitzgerald (1917-1996) American jazz singer

While writing is not necessarily a dangerous journey, it is one that must be pursued with vigor. An author who lets a muse rest too long might lose that voice, that idea and the trappings of it to ordinary things like pulling weeds and washing dishes. I have long and short muses, as I like to term them. The long ones are in it for the long haul. They'll haunt me for life and tell me story after story. The short ones show up with a duffle bag for a brief stay and a tale that burns bright before going out in a blaze of glory.

It's funny what triggers these short ones. It's strange how they manage to cut in line--a snaking, unending line--to push their way to the front and sit beside me with their tales. Short muses make me write fast. I liken them to a person on his or her deathbed with only so much time left to speak. I must pay attention; I must get it written, for when short muses get to the end, that's it. There's no going back. they turn to fairy dust and float away on the breeze from whence they came, never to be seen again.

So, I write. I write fast and today the short muse at my side is too busy telling me about her dark lover to even offer me her name. Maybe she wants to keep her anonimity for I believe this tale is about to take a turn into a darkness she regrets. Maybe she wants me to name her with some mystical title I'll seek out on the net, a name with meaning, a better name than her mother penned on the form at the hospital where she breathed in life for the first time.

I'll miss her when she's gone and I think I'll cry when this tale hits the end. Too much reality in its fantasy, too much sorrow in its ill-fated lovers. I must write and write fast lest I miss any small bit.

Authors have our own weird way of seeing our muses. They mean something to us whereas to most folks, muses are just our way of being a little weird and whacky. I think only an author can truly understand another author's thinking. And only a devoted reader can fall in love with the tales our muses share. Here's hoping the readers will love this nameless muse as much as I already do.

Cover Art

2008-03-11T21:29:00.000-07:00

Today's Quote: "Small opportunities are often the beginning of great enterprises." -Demosthenes (384-322 B.C.) Greek orator

Today I've spent the whole morning and many hours thereafter working on cover art for a co-authored e-book I haven't even read. I'm going to use this blog moment to talk a little bit about cover art and why it's important, mainly because I need to justify my obsessive compulsiveness.

In the growing world of e-books, cover art ranges from "Spectacular" to "Oh No Ew!" I've seen both sides, and one of the reasons I do my own covers, if at all possible, is because I fear having an "Oh No Ew" representing my book.

On venues such as Fictionwise, what draws a reader to click on one out of thousands of related books in a genre? At a bookstore where a reader is bombarded with shelves and shelves of tomes calling for attention, what grabs the reader's eye? Oh sure, usually a person goes in looking for a certain genre or a certain author. But there are those just browsing around and a "Spectacular" book cover might give an author that shining moment, those few seconds that snag a reader's attention long enough to read the da-da-da-dum BLURB!

So what makes a cover stand out? What makes it draw a reader into its evil, sticky web of addicted reader and crazed fan of doom? Good art is sometimes bold and basic. Eye-catching color, a model with a symmetrical face, something racey...who the heck knows?

Wearing my cover artist hat, I have to appease my author. I have to attempt to capture his or her vision and make something saleable. That's sometimes easy, sometimes something bordering on insanity. I know it's mainly my fault for wanting something to go beyond the usual good enough level to the wow, look at that level. I know hunting down royalty free Celtic knotwork patterns and colorizing, clipping, pasting, and rearranging is all part of my personal quest to make something stand out, but hey, I hope it does. I hope it's all worth it. I hope it catches a reader and lures him or her in, never to let go.

If you're an author, what did you write down in your cover art request form? Were you providing weird details that honestly won't help the artist hunt through the gazillion stock pics? Don't. It just makes us shake our heads. Be concise. Remember there is a space limit and too many symbollic images will look overpowering. Think of that one shining moment in your book with your main character. Envision it. Describe it. Tell your artist details like hair length, color, eye color, clothes, era/time period, setting.

Then...

...forget all that and let your artist make some magic. Odds are, we can't find the exact match of your character given our limitations. But if you have a creative person behind the screen, you'll get something that blows readers away. If you get an "Oh No Ew", for goodness sake, send it back!

Selling books has to be about a fantastic, memorable story, but it has to have a magic face and a blurb that piques curiosity.

Oh and when this particular cover is approved by my authors, I'll post it up here and share!

Inspiration from Stephen King

2008-03-10T12:08:00.001-07:00

This image is from "Magic the Gathering", off a trading card in the game. Akroma, Angel of Fury. Don't make her mad. She has a BIG sword and a BAD temper.

Here's a quote for today. I have errands and can't do a proper blogage:

"Talent is cheaper than table salt. What separates the talented individual from the successful one is a lot of hard work." -Stephen King

Banana Bread Recipe

2008-03-06T12:10:00.000-08:00

My seven year old son likes to cook. He's just like his father in that respect. Not one to discourage him his fun, I let him bake with adult supervision, of course. It began with his Easy Bake oven. Don't laugh. Boys can and should cook too. There will invariably be a time in their lives when they have to feed themselves and I hope my sons grow up to be independent, do-it-yourselfers who know how to keep a clean house, bake their way into their future wife's hearts and hopefully by that time, remember how to flush the toilet!

Anyhow, here's my favorite banana bread recipe, the very same one my son used last night to bake our dessert. It's all gone, by the way, down to the last crumb.

Banana Bread
3 Ripe bananas
3/4 c. sugar
1 egg
1/4 c. margarine
pinch of salt
1 tsp. baking soda
2 c. flour

Mash bananas with a fork or potato masher. Blend in the sugar, salt, beaten egg and baking soda. Stir in melted margarine. Add flour and mix well. Bake in a loaf pan or as muffins for 45 minutes at 350 degrees.

Finding the Right Word - Repeatitis

2008-03-05T16:49:00.000-08:00

As an editor, the most common mistake in writing I see is the dread repeat of words. No author is safe from Repeatitis. It strikes all genres, all ages and it's deadlier than Typosis (easily corrected by Spellcheck). Repeatitis happens when an author uses the same word or derivitives of the same word in a close proximity. Beware!

Here's an example:

Aryn looked over his shoulder at the sorceress. She looked at him, her golden cat-like eyes glittering with malice. Both looked at the dragon, a great red beast with a fiery orange mane and dangerous looking claws. He drew his sword and charged the creature, readying to cleave off it's head and end the mage-wars.

Check out how many times "looked/looking" are used in that paragraph. Sure, it seems funny and easy to spot, but you'd be surprised how many authors can't see this in their own work. I do it too! And I should totally know bettter.

Repeatitis can be cured, so have faith. Grab your handy thesaurus and find an appropriate synonym. Replace the offending repeated words with words that better describe what you really mean. Choosing the right word gets your point across and makes you a powerful storyteller.

Sometimes you can axe extranneous words and cut down on the repeats that way as well.

Here's the same paragraph with some synonyms and axage:

Aryn glanced over his shoulder at the sorceress. She glared at him, her golden cat-like eyes glittering with malice. Both faced the dragon, a great red beast with a fiery orange mane and dangerous claws. He drew his sword and charged the creature, readying to cleave off it's head and end the mage-wars.

Resources Online:
http://thesauraus.reference.com/
http://www.merriam-webster.com/mw/thesaurus.htm
http://www.visualthesaurus.com/

Authors: What words do you tend to overuse or repeat?

Readers: Can you think of a book you saw this bad habit in? Did it grate on your nerves?

Character Growth - The Real Story

2008-03-03T21:01:00.000-08:00

As a reader, what makes you want to turn the page, or in the case of e-books, click to read on?

You may not realize it, but the main reason a reader gets hooked is character growth. What's not to love about an orphaned boy named Harry who overcomes the odds and beats the evil villain? What about The Last Unicorn, all alone and missing those of her kind, who traveled far from the safety of her forest just to find and free all the unicorns trapped in a churning sea? Take the classic hobbit who left the Shire and entered the great wide world carrying a burden those larger than him could not bear? In Gone With the Wind, Scarlet's greatest feat is to overcome her selfishness and truly learn to love--even though it ends up being too late. Tsk, tsk.

Character growth needs to happen in any great story. From fantasy to erotica, it's a necessary change that comes about to create a powerful plot and resolution. One of the first things I think about before I begin a tale is: what does my character need to learn?

In my upcoming vampire erotic romance, In the Moon's Light, my main character appeared to me standing on the lawn of an old mansion, a home that used to be his, but because of his wild ways, a home no longer in his name. Zale is a vamp with regrets. A man who used women in his living years, he is no better as a living dead bloodsucker when he meets Victoria, the student caretaker of the Gravari Mansion. Close to insane and hearing voices, as his mother did in life, Zale needs to get over his tendency to use women for his own pleasure. He needs to escape his loneliness. He needs to learn to love. Only then can he move on to a better future even if he must remain a creature of the night. Talk about some room for improvement!

Dark Fantasy intrigues me. Bad boy villainous main characters offer a great deal of room for deep character growth. A vampire already has a multitude of problems to deal with day to day, but to compile some more baggage makes a character someone readers can relate to, whether they love or hate him.

Character growth can be a theme. The child who suffers from asthma who goes on to become a hero, the woman oppressed all her life who learns to break free and make her own way, and a demon who finds a way to be redeemed, all examples of thematic growth. The next time you sit down to pen a good tale, consider how you can make that character grow and change. The journey becomes all the more intriguing when it's painful, tortuous, and difficult for the one who needs to change. Character growth makes a tale memorable.

The next time you sit down to read, pay attention to what the main character needs to overcome in order to be whole.

Felllow authors, what do you consider when you prepare to plan character growth in your stories?

Do you tend to repeat a theme close to your heart?

Leave a comment and share with the world.

Calabacitas for Dinner

2008-03-02T13:24:00.001-08:00

Anyone who knows me, knows I don't like to cook. It's a crap shoot for me except when I make desserts. That's about the only sure thing for me in the kitchen: brownies, pies, cinnamon rolls...all from scratch, really. Once in a while though, I can make a consistent dinner. (If it's easy to make!)

Here's one of my favorite recipes and it's also vegetarian. A lady named Linda who I used to work with brought me calabacitas every so often to share at lunch. She got me addicted and taught me how to make it.

If you're looking for authentic Mexican food you can whip up with ingredients from the local grocery store, give this a try.

Calabacitas (Little squash)

6 small zucchini, sliced
1 small package of frozen corn or 2 cans of corn (drained)
1 medium onion choppped fine
1 large tomato diced
1 package of shredded cheddar cheese (I use 12 ounces)
2 tbsp olive oil
salt and pepper to taste if desired

1 package of a dozen large flour tortillas
margarine

Heat olive oil in sauce pan or deep skillet over medium heat. Fry onions until glossy. Add sliced zucchini, tomato, corn, and cook covered until all vegetable are done. (No crunchy zucchinis in this dish!)
Add cheese and stir in until melted. Add salt and pepper to taste. Remove from stove.

Butter one side of each tortilla with a butterknife. In large skillet, heat each tortilla on both sides.

Wrap the calabacita mixture in the tortillas burrito style and enjoy.

One of the reasons I love this dish is its simplicity. Also, my kids always ask for seconds and that's a rare thing when I cook. It's really yummy as leftovers the next day too, if you're lucky enough to have any leftover that is!

Character Creation - The Genesis of Fiction

2008-02-29T18:28:00.000-08:00

I have one brother. He's almost four years older than me, and when we were kids he played Dungeons & Dragons. All the neighbor boys (we didn't have girls in our neighborhood) used to come hang out at our kitchen table and slip into the world of medieval magic and questing. One night, he took pity on his dorky little sister and allowed her to play with the big boys. He gave her a character sheet, a pencil, and helped her roll the dice to determine all sorts of detailed characteristics for that elf she named Harold who was shortly killed off in an act of cruel sibling rivalry.

First Lesson Learned: Don't play D&D with older brother no matter how nice he seems to be. It's all an evil plot.

Second Lesson Learned: Dungeons and Dragons character sheets are a cool way to create a fictional character for stories. I went on to play D&D a few times through the years, mostly with a boyfriend who loved the game and loved anything medieval, including a real life recreation group where I got to watch him fight with swords at festivals.

So my writing tip of the day is to create your own character sheet so you can keep track of those chatty muses in your head. The basics might be all you need, something as simple as:

-Character Name
-Race
-Age
-Height
-Weight
-Hair Color
-Eye Color
-Skin Color
-Weapons Used (Okay yeah this works for fantasy tales, for contemporary or other genres substitute class, job, etc.)
-Religion or Beliefs
-Dilemma

If you want to explore further and if the need is called for, you can include a family tree, details like where your character lives, and what he or she does for fun. Attach a picture or sketch of what your character looks like. Mapping out your character makes an easy reference guide if (da-da-da-dum) you get affronted by another, louder muse who takes your attention away from the first one. This way, it's easy to fall back into that mapped out character by grabbing a binder or even a file on your PC and looking up those little details as needed.

When I first began writing, I kept everything in an old ledger. I have sketches, family trees, details about cities such as crops, livestock, and religion. Organization is the key to success.

I hope this helps an author out there get to the end. If you have any character creation tips you'd like to share, please comment!

Why I Write...

2008-02-28T20:53:00.001-08:00

It all began when I was eleven years old. Okay, maybe even before then. I've always had a massive imagination, a place where other characters lead out their daily lives and adventures while generally trying to distract me from my daily life and adventures. When I was eleven, I started writing a story. I mapped out a world. I created characters and assigned them duties in the mapped out world. A villain, a hero, a mysterious goddess. My imaginary world had war and peace, love and prejudiced hatred. I haven't stopped writing since then.

I write because I'm driven to do it. By driven I mean I have muses lined up to tell me their stories and let me tell you, some of these muses are really weird! No clue where half of them come from. Maybe other authors shook their heads when they knocked and said, "No way. Go visit that crazy Anastasia Rabiyah and tell her your sad tale. I don't write demons or demi-gods. Shoo." I'm pretty sure that's why they're here.

My biggest struggle when I write is focussing on one tale at a time. It's a necessary evil and the only way to really get to the end of anything, but a struggle nonetheless. So far, so good. I'm stickin' to my guns and telling that long line of misfit muses they have to wait their turn.

So, I'm curious fellow authors, why did you start writing? Is it an addiction for you or something you do when you feel like it? Do you have muses too? Is it just one or many? Do they wake you up in the middle of the night and pester you like they do me, or are they polite about the whole creation process?

If you've lost your muse, come join my little author group and tell us about it. If you've found your muse after a period of loss, tell us how you did it too. If you're a reader and you want a peek into how us crazy authors think, here's the link: Lost and Found Muses .
Want to find out more about me? Check out my website: Anastasia's Home on the Web.

God in the Stone

2008-02-28T10:18:00.000-08:00

Nadia Templeton has a man everyone else seems to want. He’s handsome, well-off and takes care of her. Ruben controls her life so much that she’s giving up who she is to please him. While strolling through the ruins of the Acropolis in Athens with Ruben, she hears a voice calling to her. Tempted, she reaches out to touch a marble column, releasing the god imprisoned within.

She has seven days to discover true love and accept the offering fate has given her, but will she want him when she realizes who and what he really is?

Excerpt:
While walking through the ruins of the Acropolis and Parthenon, Nadia shooed the summer heat with a cheap touristy fan. She wiped away a thin trail of sweat from her forehead, thankful that Ruben allowed her to keep her hair pinned up. He liked her pale blonde hair hanging down with large curls framing her oval-shaped face. Her heels click-tapped against the marble as she strolled up the steps just behind him. He looked handsome today, his face shadowed by stubble and his jet-black hair slicked back with gel. A single lock fell over his left eye, a softness at odds with his hard, chiseled features when he turned to glance at her. Nadia tried to concentrate on him, but the mottled marble pillars called out to her in a way she couldn’t justify or explain.

"Touch me," someone whispered to her.

Glancing around, she found no one near enough to have spoken so softly and be heard. She held her fair fingers out to the ancient column, intrigued by the request, wondering if she’d imagined it. The heat in the air dwindled the closer her fingers came to the stone. She reached, anxious to slide her palm across the time-smoothed surface, her breath catching in her throat. Her fingers less than an inch from the stone, Ruben clutched her wrist, pulling her hand away and startling her back to reality.

“Don’t touch.” He wagged a finger at her, his expression patronizing, his dark brown eyes flickering with condescending playfulness in his tanned face.

“Not allowed?” she asked. Heat ran up her neck and across her cheeks as she blushed. He made her feel like a child caught with her hand in the cookie jar.

“Don’t take the stones from the ground either.” Sweat trickled down Ruben’s forehead. He didn’t bother to wipe it away. To Nadia, that inaction made him even sexier. “If every person took a rock or a piece of the ruins, there’d be nothing left.” He smiled his white-toothed grin, an expression that used to melt her heart, but now only made her feel insignificant. “Besides, the gods would get angry.” He chuckled at his joke.

Releasing her wrist, he turned to saunter along the concrete walk. Nadia paused, lured by the pull, the need to touch that column. She stared at its surface. Surely, everyone that passed this way touched it. The marble appeared silky smooth, its edges flattened over by oils from human contact. How many people have laid a hand on it? Caressed it? And did anyone else hear that voice?

“Touch me.”

Shaking her head, Nadia ambled on, finding it hard to walk in her black heels even though they weren’t high. Ruben liked her in heels; she wore them for his pleasure. She preferred tennis shoes or even hiking boots, but he’d weeded such comforts from her closet after she moved in with him. Her short skirt kept trying to fly up in the occasional hot, gusty wind, leaving her befuddled and wishing for a pair of cool, summer shorts. That too, he denied. Ruben rummaged through her suitcase before they left the states to be sure no such unfeminine garment came along. He wanted no woman of his seen in anything but a skirt or a dress.

The couple left the gargantuan ruins, passed a sign with verbiage about the monument and stopped to linger at a lookout point. Nadia gaped at the dense city of Athens spread below. Buildings coagulated together in masses of blocky white. Smog hung low in the air, shading the pale blue sky with a sickening gray color. At the height they’d reached on the hill, she could no longer hear blaring taxi horns or the drone of traffic, but she knew the noise was there, waiting to smother her when they descended. It was incomprehensible, yet not beautiful. Athens was disappointing. It was not what she had expected from the birthplace of myths and gods...of civilization. The city choked off the last bits of natural land left. She longed for the green of meadows, the cool winds of a quiet forest, or the pastoral peace of a shepherd’s flock grazing idly through thick grasses. In her heart, she was not a child of the city, any city, even though it was the only way she’d ever lived.

Why am I even here? It had happened so quickly, Ruben inviting her to Greece on a business trip. He rarely took her anywhere. Excited, she had packed up her dusty suitcase and followed along for the sheer freedom of it, the strange wonder of going somewhere she’d never been and perhaps would never have gone, if not for him. For that, she was grateful but because of the pollution and crowds of Athens, she wished she were back home. Most of all, she wished for tennis shoes and shorts. Although this wonder of the world called to her in its mysterious way, the thought of a cool, air-conditioned room and loose, comfortable clothes sounded like heaven.

“Touch me.” The whisper returned just behind her.

Nadia rubbed at her temple for a moment, deciding the heat was getting to her. She glanced at Ruben. He clearly hadn’t heard the strange voice. The couple strode across the barren ground, departing from the lookout. She imagined the Acropolis would be something more substantial, a place of dreams and fallen gods. The gravel and dirt they passed over hardly felt significant at all. In a grass splotched clearing beside the museum, she glanced at the pieces of scattered columns and chunks of marble waiting to be pieced back together like a massive puzzle.

Inside the simple museum, her heart sank. A sign read: No flash photography. All she had brought was her old thirty-five millimeter camera. “Wish I had a digital,” she muttered as they passed the entry exhibit. Most of the statues were fragments, ruins left after invaders pilfered Greece ages ago. Cement or plaster filled in the gaps. Headless figures guarded the center of the first room, no arms to call their own. The entire display filled Nadia with an overwhelming sorrow at the loss.

Ruben talked on and on about a fabulous bar he wanted to take her to after dinner. She tuned him out as they exited, her mind reaching for that other voice. Pausing to drink at the public fountain, she couldn’t shake the feeling that someone watched her, and it wasn’t Ruben.

He took her arm, leading her back the way they’d come as he rehearsed the sales pitch he’d have to give that evening. He blathered about Greek coffee and the beach where she could go topless. “You’ll do it, won’t you?” He elbowed her. “I’d like to see you naked in the sunlight.”

Nadia giggled halfheartedly. The closer they came to the columns, the more her attention waned from Ruben. The voice called to her. It murmured gently, seductively, luring her closer. When she slowed, Ruben let go of her arm to push through the crowd of tourists.

"Touch me."

Glancing at her boyfriend, she realized he stood paces ahead. She reached out to the smooth, orange-colored column, hoping this time to feel the presence that willed her to make contact.

Touch me."

Nadia reached out. Her fingertips grazed its surface. The stone, so old, so warm, so full of life and stories made her feel as if her fingers were made to be against it. Passion and lust stirred within her, emotions so intense she thought she might faint. The stone grew hot beneath her palm. Heat twisted her womb. Wetness slicked her womanhood. She didn’t want to take her hand away. She felt the urge to embrace the column, to hold it against her, to feel that heat sweeping through her body. She wanted to meet the being within, to know him.

“Nadia!” Ruben called out. “Come on. We have to get to the room. I can’t miss my meeting.”

She barely heard him over the buzz of tourists wending their way around her and throughout the roped-off areas. Ruben stomped toward her, his cowboy boots clip-clopping on the cement and marble. He wouldn't admit it, but she knew his black Levis were uncomfortably warm. She knew he’d want to take a shower before the five-o’clock sales meeting and probably roll her in the sheets as well.

“Nadia!” he barked.

She didn't turn.

Ruben slapped at her outstretched hand. The tingling vanished, the magic died. The spell broken, she gaped at her partner of five years, and frowned. At that instant, she awakened to thoughts and feelings she'd never acknowledged before. Ruben’s glower no longer seemed attractive; it made him appear mean and cold. Was he always this way? Did he always glare at me like that? Like I meant nothing? Do I mean anything to him at all? Does he even care for me?

“What did you do that for?” she asked, bitterness tainting her voice.

He scowled at her, his eyebrows black lines above stark eyes. His gaze roved up and down her body, falling on her breasts.

Her nipples were rock hard, awakened by the desire trapped in the column. A tickle strained her womb. She bit at her bottom lip, hungering for a hard kiss, but not from him.

Snatching her hand, Ruben pulled her along. “Come, my love, I don’t want to be late.”

God in the Stone is available at Forbidden Publications.
To go to the buy page, click: HERE!

Muses, Music, Deep Breathing

2008-02-27T08:53:00.000-08:00

Many writers say that music helps them get in the groove to pen a tale. I have to say that it works for me at times. What kind of music soothes your savage muse? What kind of music gets you in the mood to type out a love scene, a battlescene, a dramatic climax?

Here's what works for me:
-Enya
-Clanaad
-Enrique Iglesias (in Spanish and no, I don't speak Spanish)
-Flamenco music

Sometimes getting the drive to write back when you've lost it takes a little preparation. Just like relaxing in the bath with a good book, you may require mood lighting, music, and candlelight. Maybe even a little incense (or an apple pie baking in the oven...mmm). Relaxation techniques such as the deep and controlled breathing associated with yoga often help me. My mind is so jam-packed with to do lists that I need to sit quietly, practice my breathing, and send those thoughts away until my head is completely clear--a blank canvas!

Authors, what do you do to get in the mind-set to write like a maniac?

What Inspires You? About the Greek God Pan.

2008-02-26T08:59:00.000-08:00

What inspires you to write? How do you come up with such odd ideas? I have readers who ask this and even fellow authors who wonder how my brain got so off kilter. Sometimes I wonder too, especially when stories take turns into the darkness I never expected.
When I first started writing children's stories during my creative writing class, way back when I thought I wanted to write tales to teach my children to be nice, I took a little break and skimmed through one of my favorite books: "A Field Guide to Demons, Faeries, Fallen Angels and Other Subversive Spirits" by Carol K. Mack and Dinah Mack. While this book is informative, I also find it a wealth of inspiration and lore on myths from all over the world. Myths fascinate me.
I've loved the Greek god Pan since 6th grade when my teacher assigned him to me to do a speech on. I created a little clay figurine of him and discussed his place in the hierarchy of the gods (in as much as a 6th grader can). Pan, the son of Hermes and a nymph of Arcadia, was god of the woods, a guardian of flocks and shepherds. Half man, half goat, he has cloven hooves, a wooly coat over his lower body and a tail. He also has goat ears. He is rumored to carry a shepherd's staff and play his pipes. Getting back to my Field Guide book, in it, there is a small quote which inspired me.
"The Great God Pan is dead!" It was written by Plutarch in the reign of Tiberius that a sailor heard a mysterious voice call out said quote three times. Further rumor has it that at that very moment, Jesus Christ was born. There is no recollection of Pan's end, and this led to my inspiration and my story.
What if he was still around, trapped perhaps, in a place he couldn't escape from? What if only certain people could hear his pleas for help? What if his imprisonment and eventual freedom came with a catch? In order for him to escape, he would need to find a woman who could love him as he is. I find that commonality in all of humanity--we want someone who can love us unconditionally, who will look past all our faults and still smile upon us and help us up when we fall.
I wrote "The God in the Stone" all those years ago. While it was good at the time, I wrote it before I had the courage to explore the erotica genre. Going back many years later, I stumbled upon it and realized it was a story in need of revision, a love story in need of spice to make it whole. "The God in the Stone" releases this Thursday at Forbidden Publications. It's a short work taking place in eight days' time and every moment is a vacation in the mysteries of modern day Greece and a warm embrace of a love who cannot truly be seen until the very end.
So fellow writers, what inspires you to write your tales?

Monday!

2008-02-25T11:41:00.001-08:00

Ah it's Monday! The first "workday" of the week for me and just about everyone else in the world. How do you keep everything organized in your life? My organization begins on Mondays. Well, in theory that is.

My secret to getting things done is to do a million at once. I keep a little daily planner book so I can remember every single one. It's that simple. One book, one place, one log of EVERYTHING! How do you stay on top of your life?

Do you have a time turner, magic wand, a secretray, a handsome man-slave who does all your honey-dos for you?

Here's my other secret to success:

Quick Iced Frappe'
-4 tsp sugar
-1tsp instant coffee
-1/2 cup water
Stir until mixed
-add 2 cups milk and ice as desired.

Chat With Us!

2008-02-13T17:35:00.001-08:00

You’re Invited!

Join author Anastasia Rabiyah and author A.C. Croom for a release party at our publisher’s online chat room for fun, prizes and a chance to speak to us! Ask about our books and what keeps us writing. Stop by and say hello. We'd love to hear from you!

Located here: http://ForbiddenPublications.com

(scroll down the main page for the link to the chat room)

Date: February 15, 2008

Time: 6pm Pacific, 7pm Mountain, 8pm Central and 9 pm Eastern.

Shahzar III Sorcerer and Shadow

By Anastasia Rabiyah

(author website: http://RabiyahBooks.com)

Fantasy Romance

In this third part of Shahzar’s journey, she learns to call the Gift of the Goddess, to use her magic at will. But no great power is without its consequences, as she soon discovers. While she is away from Kaladia, her goddess continues to reach out to her, troubling Shahzar over the responsibility she abandoned.

War comes to Kaladia, stronger and more dangerous than the raids of prior years. Left behind to care for the city, Raynier struggles to prove his worth. He must seek out a new way to end the attacks by Dalin, the power hungry brother of the dead Klemish king.

But all the humble bishop desires is the return of his queen.

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Showdown in Shadow Creek

By A.C. Croom

Historical Western Romance

(author website: http://accroom.com)

What could be better than loving a brave and beautiful woman? What could be better than seeking a true home after years of the dangerous life a gambler and gunfighter leads? What could be better than having friends willing to back your play, with no questions, because it's the right thing?

What could be better than all that?

Surviving a Showdown In Shadow Creek!

Showdown In Shadow Creek steps back in time, to a place where men earned what was theirs at the end of a smoking gun, where nothing was free except the air to breathe, where a bend in the trail could hide fortune or death, where the only land a man was sure to own was a four-foot by eight-foot plot on boot hill.

Being shot at was nothing new to J. R. Bell. A gambler by choice and gunfighter by necessity, it was the risk he faced everyday of his life. But now he wants to change that life and his fate leads him to Shadow Creek and his one chance to settle down. In town only hours, he meets Eve Southerland and is wounded by an unknown assailant. His fortune and misfortune combine and lead him inextricably toward a confrontation with destiny.

Amid unanswered questions of a town hiding a secret, the streets of Shadow Creek becoming over-populated with hired guns and a murderous scheme to separate him from what’s rightfully his, J. R. falls in love. Only one thing stands in the way of his claiming the heart of Eve Southerland and starting a new life. A showdown is building. Are John and Eve willing to fight to get what they want? Or, will they lose everything in the Showdown In Shadow Creek?

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New Release: Seducing My Husband (Erotic 18 + Readers Only)

2008-02-08T11:39:00.000-08:00

Seducing My Husband

by: Anastasia Rabiyah

Available at: http://loveyoudivine.com

Tina misses the hot lover she married. For two months, he hasn't laid a finger on her in a sexual way. Her best friend suggests an affair, but this determined housewife has a plan of her own.

Tina's husband has a new job that's taking him away from her for twelve-hour-a-day shifts. When he comes home, he's tired, grumpy and in no mood to service his wife. This won't do at all. Although her best friend thinks Tina ought to call off the search for Steven's missing libido and seek pleasure in the arms of another man, this housewife knows how to cook up some special excitement. She's willing to work for what she wants and needs even if it means having an affair with the man she married.

Ebook ISBN: 978-1-60054-201-5
Length: 4,880 words
Genre: Erotica
Rating:Shooting Star
$2.00

Excerpt:

   "Tina, maybe you should have an affair," Marlee said, stirring her fork in the strands of angel hair pasta on her plate. I gaped at her sitting there looking like a beauty queen with her perfect blonde hair and make-up. She didn't even look up from her food or flinch at what she suggested I do. My best friend simply went about eating as if cheating on my husband meant nothing. It was then that I knew she couldn't possibly understand. Marlee was single. She could afford to do whatever she wanted, and she did just that. Not so for me. I'd made a commitment. My plan to stick to it remained intact despite Steven's lack of enthusiasm in our love life for the last two months.

   "Affair." I laughed and lifted my glass to her. "You have no concept of love and marriage. That's a one way ticket to divorce."

   She raised her face to smirk at me, nodded, and shoved a forkful of pasta in her mouth. That's her way of not saying anything else to piss me off. A good choice too.

   Nevertheless, as I left Rosatti's in my pristine white minivan with its so-obvious-I'm-a-mommy bumper stickers about my honor roll student children, I thought over her suggestion. An affair meant new possibilities, new conquests, maybe new positions and excitement. At the stoplight on Fifth and Bradstreet, I studied the wedding ring on my finger. An amethyst jewel stared back at me. He knew I didn't like diamonds or gold and so the stone had been set in silver, simple and orderly, not garish, not overdone. Just the way I liked it. I groaned and pressed the pedal when the light changed.

   "Affair," I said again, this time to myself, not liking the idea of having to get used to a new man's ways. "That's not what I want." I knew what I wanted, the same thing I wanted ten years ago. "I want my husband."

   The drive home allowed me to plot and plan. For two months he hadn't touched me in a sexual way. No more goodnight kisses. Most times when I crawled into bed, he turned away and muttered a half coherent wish for sweet dreams. When we dated and even after we married, we were two fireballs of passion and desire. Karen, my other friend—the married one—had warned me that the fires settle down and burn at a steady pace later on, but I guess I didn't want to believe her. I needed to stoke the flames, add some fuel and set the blaze alight in a burgeoning bonfire. Besides, our flames weren't steady of late, they were dead. Nothing but cold, black coals.

   I pulled into the carport and pressed the button to shut the garage. "Hair dye," I mumbled. "Sexy dress. His favorite dinner." It seemed simple enough. I rushed through the kitchen, past the living room and sprinted into the master bath. Stripping off my blouse and pants, I watched my nakedness appear in the mirror. I could stand to lose a few pounds, but my shape revealed ample curves—cleavage and hips he used to love to fondle and clutch. Fingers skimmed over my pubic hair. A shave was in order. A little surprise for him to discover when he slips off my panties tonight.

Demon in the Basement claws its way to #16!

2008-01-30T17:03:00.001-08:00

Demon in the Basment was recently released on Fictionwise (http://fictionwise.com/) and has clawed it's way to #16 on the bestseller list of Erotic e-books.
While this surprises me because the story is rather dark, I'm ecstatic! If you haven't yet read the tale of Emme and Nazan, the dark demon of her heart, check it out either directly from my publisher: http://forbiddenpublications.com/ or join the party on Fictionwise and please be kind enough to rate it if you love it as much as I do!

Enter the basement’s forgotten darkness and reach for the light of redemption. Find love and passion in an unlikely mate. Dare to look beyond what you see.

Emme has inherited her estranged father’s estate and vows to clean out all the evil he left behind. In the corner of the basement, she discovers one of the greatest of his forbidden treasures: Nazan, a demon that’s been trapped there since she fled the house as a teen. The broken demon is circled by salt, emaciated and bears scars left by years of cruelty and torture.

A caring woman who believes all creatures have their place in the world, Emme undertakes the arduous task to mend the wounds done to his soul, mind and body—to return him to his rightful state and place. Despite her unsettling attraction to him, a fiery heat occurring every time he touches her, she is determined to set the demon free.

But he has other plans.

Oikoni Stone

2008-01-02T23:42:00.001-08:00

Genre: Fantasy

Heat Index: Erotic/Carnal

Book Length: Novel

Every morning for months, Nainie of the tree clan, has spied on a fair-skinned woman who lives within the stone village bordering the willow woods. He knows he can’t be with her for he must marry a woman of his father’s choosing, and this mysterious beauty is not one of his kind…or is she? The ripples in the river move toward her rather than away. Her eyes are like the lake when the noonday sun hits its surface, blue and placid. She is different, but he feels she is the same as him—one who stands apart from those of her clan.

Gathering his courage, he crosses the river to meet her. They share their first kiss, a heated, awkward moment of bonding that ends too soon. When he enters her village, hoping to find her father and ask for her as his bride, he discovers she, like so many others in the stone city, is a slave. His naiveté about the cruelty of Tiir’s clan only helps to ensnare him in her harsh world.

In a city of strict traditions awaiting its high ruler and atonement for past sins, can these two new lovers make a way for themselves and find a path to freedom?

Purchase Price
$5.99

Available from: ForbiddenPublications.com

An Authorized Excerpt
Nainie crossed his hands in his lap and leaned forward, watching the young woman from his vantage hidden among the draping branches of the willow. Sea green leaves caressed his bare arms and tickled his back where his looping ebony hair did not hang. The thick mass waved in the light breeze, forcing him to brush aside strands that fell in his amber eyes and shrouded his view. He dropped his hand and squinted at her pale brilliance.

The woman wore white, a swathe of pale cotton fabric that hugged her curves and covered her so much that it offered her modesty. Nainie spied on her every morning. He ran from his village in the willow woods and climbed the same tree, his bare feet gripping the gnarled trunk and his fingers lodging in each available crevice until he reached this same lookout. I wish I knew her name, he mused, a smile lifting the corners of his mouth.

She knelt beside the river, her eyes downcast and her honey-colored hair drifting just as unruly in the breeze as his. The woman pulled the leather strap from her shoulder and dipped her head beneath it in order to retrieve the clay jug balanced on her back. The ripples across the river moved toward her.

Nainie puckered his lips in a wind whisper when the side of her fabric wrap fell off her left shoulder, revealing more of her fair skin and the top of her small, round breast. She dipped the jug into the water and waited. The water filled too fast. She pulled it free, wiping the lip with delicate fingers. The woman adjusted her clothing, hiding her body, and he pouted at the loss of such a tempting view. Beyond the white plastered wall, her clan called to her in feminine voices and Nainie sighed, disappointed. She would go, as she always did and he’d not see her until the following morning.

He swung his bare feet in mid-air, waiting for her to hurry along the stone-lined path. Her clan is strange, he decided. People should live in the open, not behind rocks.

When she disappeared beyond the high berry bushes, he slid forward and dropped to the ground, landing with ease on the thick blanket of leaves covering the willow wood floor. The tassels on the edges of his loincloth tickled his legs. He glanced over his shoulder. The stone path the woman took wound away from the river’s edge, and he could see the smooth prints her sandaled feet left behind. “Strange,” he whispered. “If I separated my skin from the earth, how would I know what lay beneath me?”

Nainie shrugged and ran his hand through his curly hair. “Tomorrow, he said to the breeze.

Wolf's Gift

2007-12-06T10:49:00.000-08:00

Forbidden Publications
presents

Wolf's Gift
by
Anastasia Rabiyah

In an English town budding with the new religion at Christmastime, an old god still shows up in the darkest of places. One such ancient setting is the Darkwood Forest just outside the meadow near Levinia’s home. After her husband is lost in a hunting accident, she must come to terms with his death. The day after Christmas, she calls upon the cast out god, Jul, by burning the Yule log and wishing for the one thing Jul is known for, allowing the spirits of the dead to mingle with the living.

Available now for only $1.99 at Forbidden Publications

http://www.forbiddenpublications.com/book_pages/wolfs_gift.html

Join the author at the release chat tonight at Forbidden Publication's chatroom located on the main page at: http://ForbiddenPublications.com. Scroll down to enter.

The chat begins at:

6pm Pacific, 7pm Mountain, 8pm Central and 9pm Eastern

Find out more about the author at: http://RabiyahBooks.com

An Authorized Excerpt:

A howl broke the silence outside. This time she was sure of what it was. She closed the door and slid the bar down to keep it in place, not that a wolf could push open a door, could it? Fingering the handle of the bow, she breathed in deeper the underlying scent of hay. The first time they’d made love it had been in this barn amongst the fresh straw. The feel of his lips against her neck lingered in her memory, the heat of his skin touching hers, the thrill of being alone, finally able to give herself to him after waiting for so long.

She leaned her head against the door and closed her eyes. It began as a playful game of teasing and tickling, hands knotting and testing limits. She’d leaned up and brushed her lips over his. Borys balked, but smiled his sideways grin, his brown eyes glistening with mischief and a familiar hint of desire. He’d pushed her down into the itchy hay and kissed her into submission.

Something ran across the snow, its paws crunching just outside the door. She wondered if loud noises would frighten it away. Levinia had never seen a wolf before. She’d only shot her husband’s bow a few times, and she wasn’t good at it. She backed away into the dwindling light. Claws scratched against wood. It whimpered.
“Go away!” she shouted, startling the sheep. They flinched and skittered backward. Small bleats echoed in the barn.

The animal outside whined.

Levinia stared at the bow, and wondered if she could do it, if she could kill a wolf, much less anything at all. She clenched her teeth and swallowed her fear. Taking a step forward, she decided she must confront what had taken away her happiness. One hand shot out, no longer shaking. The wooden bar slid up and away. It was dark outside, so no shadow of legs cast itself beneath the door. She knew the wolf was there though. She knew it had to be the one that killed her husband. Now it had arrived to take her as well.

“But I won’t go,” she vowed.

She kicked the barn door with the toe of her boot. It creaked on its hinges. The cold air rushed in, carrying snowflakes. Among the snow her adversary stood, a mangy creature with gray hair and golden eyes. Its muzzle bore dried blood. The wolf took a step forth on long legs.

Levinia lowered her bow, aiming at the animal’s head.

Ears flattened. A bushy, gray tail lowered. The wolf snarled, revealing yellowed teeth. A line of spittle fell in a string to the snow.

From the forest, another wolf cried. Its call was long and painful, so much so that Levinia hesitated, her finger frozen on the trigger. She shot a glance past the beast before her. A pale creature came limping from the woods. It walked slow, but with purpose. A sudden movement drew her attention back to the animal in front of her. Its head lowered and it lunged. Levinia squeezed. The crossbow fired, its shaft whizzing through the air. It thunked, hitting its mark.

The wolf yelped in midair.

She backed up, dropping the empty weapon in the hay. Fur and the stench of death gagged her. She screamed as the beast knocked into her. Falling seemed to take forever. Her head smacked against something hard, sending a strike of agony through her body. She blinked and flailed, desperate to escape.

Teeth snapped and caught. Pain lanced her forearm. She brought her knee up in a swift kick, gouging the animal’s belly. Then the darkness took her.