Author Archives: D.R. Slaten

Spring Fling Blog Hop 4/21-4/24

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Welcome to the Spring Fling Blog Hop! Over fifty authors and bloggers have joined together to bring you some amazing posts, great giveaways and lots of fun! Don’t forget to enter the rafflecopter to win a Kindle tablet, gift cards, paperbacks and swag and be sure to check out the other blogs taking part.

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This is my second Spring Fling. I knew it was going to happen that way when I signed up for the blog hops. What I didn’t know was just how crappy the weather sitch was going to be and just how much we’d need some more Spring. Maybe even a double dose of it. And if we can’t get it in the form of Mother Nature, then I’m betting that getting it in the form of blog hops with giveaways that include reading material to help while away the time on cold not-so-Spring-like days is the next best alternative. Gotta love that.

Having NIGHT BLIND available for general release on April 25, the day after the hop ends and when I announce my winner, well… that’s just more awesome, no? I put my warning blurb for NIGHT BLIND below so you know what you’re in for when you buy the book. Don’t forget to take a peek at the OtherKind page in Titles. 😉 In honor of this second Spring Fling and the release of NIGHT BLIND (an Other Kind Prequel Part 2), I’m giving away FARSEEN (an Other Kind Prequel Part 1) in ebook format. So leave me a comment as your entry to win FARSEEN. And don’t forget to enter the rafflecopter belew and visit other author’s sites to win more goodies.

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Night Blind

One shifter new to manlove, one witch new to threesomes, and one vampire who’s been there and done that
 a thousand times. At least. They’re all new to each other. Add in crazed bad guys unleashing diseases of mass destruction, and well
 what happens in Dallas, it’s not gonna stay in Dallas. Light m/m action, some anal and LOTS of hot menage.

**Publisher’s Note: This book is best read after FarSeen.

 

Snippet:

That the Council members had been waiting on her was obvious. They were milling around chatting instead of engaging in Council business. When they saw her, they all began to move toward their seats.

Shit, what they wanted to discuss with her must be important. This did not bode well.

Sara walked up to her, turning her head this way and that. “You look tired, Enforcer.” Then she dropped her voice. “You need to get laid, child. Sex magic will verve you right up.”

Oh, my God. Sara did not just say that to her. She was so old that most made allowances for her crazy utterances. Still, the head of the Council did not just tell her to get her groove on so she could get back some of her mojo. Good Christ. Talk about totally inappropriate.

“Enforcer, please be seated at the table,” Sara, crazy old bat that she was, ordered.

 

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Are You Trying To Shame Me?

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Cause you’re gonna have to try a little harder to make that shit work for you. I’m not ashamed. Not at all. Not one iota. I write romances. I read romances. And I LIKE that I do.

Wanna look down your nose at me? Fuck you.

Give me a minute, bet I can find something out about you that I can make into a shame sequence. Seriously? After all the shit that women get, now we’re getting shit because of the material we read? Bitch, please. Be happy that WE ARE READING AT ALL.

Wanna call me names? Fuck you… AGAIN.

I get the disparaging remarks about “mommy porn” as you laugh uncomfortably and look away. I get the light scoff/snort as you discuss the merits of romances being written at all, much less read–gasp–by a large percentage of the populace. I get the looks of derision and scorn when certain titles are mentioned and the genres they represent. I get it. I don’t understand it. But I get that some people feel that way.

All this was precipitated because of a blog post, Dear Columists, romance fiction is not your bitch, by Kat Mayo in the Drum. In that article, Kat defends the romance genre, romance writers and romance readers. And she does so brilliantly.

But you know what pisses me off? Feminists–who, by the way, are by and large WOMEN–are trying to shame other WOMEN for reading and writing in a genre that showcases WOMEN. And then the argument devolves into people pointing out that women are other women’s biggest adversary in today’s world. Wake the fuck up.

Wanna know the biggest adversaries to women in today’s world? Lack of education. Shitty health care. Disparate treatment in the workforce. And the list goes on because the list is fucking LONG, yo.

What ISN’T the biggest stumbling block for other women is WOMEN. Yes, there are times that women will argue. So what? I argue with dudes too when they’re fucking WRONG. My arguing with a women doesn’t automatically mean I’m being catty cause I have a vagina as well. It just means I don’t give a shit what gender you are when I point out that I think YOU ARE WRONG.

Talk about circling back. Dude, seriously. What is WRONG is dismissing the romance genre in its entirety because there happen to be one or ten shitty romance writers. Here, let me lay out my thesis in clear bold language. THE ROMANCE GENRE IS THE ONLY GENRE THAT MAKES WOMEN THE FOREFRONT AND CENTER OF THE STORY.

Let me say that again. Because it’s important. Really fucking important. The Romance genre is the only genre that makes women the forefront and center of the story.

No other genre does that. Not sci-fi. Not westerns. Not literary fiction. Not middle grade fiction. Not thrillers. Not horrors. Not picture books. Not cookbooks. Not devotionals. Not fantasy. Not histories. Not poetry. Not one other genre makes women the centerpiece of the story.

And that boys and girls never happens in real life. Not really. Women are secondary characters in real life. Every once in a while, we’ll have the token women break through and get her own story, but that happens so rarely as to be statistically irrelevant. And when it does, the larger story hers is contained within is usually the man’s story. Don’t believe me? Crack open any history book. Ever. Shit, crack open a historical fiction book and although the story might seem like it’s about the girl, it’s about the dudes in the book. Really. You just get the reaction perspective from the women’s point of view in regards to what the dudes are doing. So being told in the feminine perspective doesn’t mean the story places the woman at the forefront, at the center, as the CRUX of the story.

The romance genre has been doing that since the genre developed. Women, and some men, reading about women navigating their shitty societies and societal restrictions, figuring shit out, being the REASON for the story. And yes, real women know there aren’t that many happy endings. Shit. WE KNOW. We know there are things in the books that aren’t realistic. Dude. WE KNOW. But there is a measure of empowerment and satisfaction from immersing oneself into a world where a women’s story as she navigates her life and relationships isn’t secondary, or an afterthought, or an addendum.

And really, isn’t it easy to bash the romance genre because it involves women? Doesn’t it seem that we’re all a little quicker to bash the things women like, read, or want? I don’t need to be shamed because someone else thinks my reading and writing material isn’t up to intellectual snuff. I don’t need someone denigrating me because of my choice in genre. Didn’t we already go through this in the science fiction genre and the horror genre. All this name-calling because someone else’s opinion renders an ENTIRE class of writing dismissed.

Part of being a free women today means I get to read what the fuck I want. AND I feel no shame. It also means that I get to write the fuck I want. And again, I FEEL NO SHAME.  Shame has no place in literary discourse of any kind. Discuss the merits of the work, or body of works, and have rational discussions about this. Even if we agree to disagree. I don’t NEED to argue someone to my point of view. I could really give a shit less what you think, or what you read, or whatever. And even if I thought it was shit, I wouldn’t disparage the entire genre or you as a person for reading that shit. You’d probably never know. Because reading material is individual and what we get out of a reading is also individual. So one book for me might be shit and it might have been the greatest book you’ve ever read. That’s cool.

But don’t tell me I’m perpetuating the stereotypes of a type of women that you might find distasteful. In doing that, you are doing nothing more than what the patriarchal system has been telling women all along. You shouldn’t do this because it isn’t feminine has now become you shouldn’t do this because it’s TOO feminine. Fuck you. Determine your level of femininity or lack thereof and then do that. Don’t look around and tell other people to do that too, and if they don’t do what you tell them then say they suck because that just makes YOU SUCK.

My reading and writing material doesn’t make me more or less feminine. Neither does it determine my commitment level to feminism. All it says is that I want to read a story where the central figure and the story is about a women living her life. That is all.

So if you’ve got shit to say to me about my reading and/or my writing material and its start out with the romance genre sucks… just shut the fuck up. There’s only one place the shame in the situation should be sitting. And it’s not on my shoulders. And I won’t thank you for trying to lay that shit at my feet. Keep it. I’ve got enough shit to deal with. I so don’t need yours.

 

Autism Awareness Blog Hop Winner

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We have a winner, boys and girls. WOOHOO. I’m pleased to announce that parisfan was picked using the randomizer at random.org.

click the pic to go to the main hop page

 

Let me know if you want HAT TRICK or FARSEEN and the preferred format.

Congratulations for on the win, parisfan! And thank you to everyone else who helped make this blog hop a huge success.

Music Monday: Love Don’t Die

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I should’ve chosen the Fray’s Love Don’t Die as a pick in February. I didn’t. Whatevs. String me up by my toenails. Or something equally gruesome and horrific. Or not. Or maybe, just listen to the song ’cause love isn’t confined just to February or Valentine’s Day or some other artificially made up calendar event. Plus, it’s just a cool ass song.

Enjoy!

Risi e Bisi

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Peas and Rice. Simple. Perfect. I learned about this dish when I went to Venice one summer. It was the summer that I got a wild hair up my ass and decided to leave everything behind for a month and kick around Europe. Granted, I should’ve done this as a young woman and not the… ahem… older woman I was when I went. I had a blast anyway.

It was the first vacation I’d ever taken alone. It was also the longest vacation I’d ever taken. And I included a 9 day hut-to-hut hiking trip through the Swiss Alps. I spent the next twenty days tooling around the Italian countryside by train. I got comfortable in my own skin on that trip. Alone. By myself in a foreign country or two. I met up with some girlfriends in Rome, but other than that… it was all me all the time.

I scheduled a couple of things before I left on my trip. One of those was a cooking class in Venice. And in that cooking class, I learned to make risi e bisi old school from a gracious native hostess. I’ve never forgotten her or the dish.

The recipe uses a combination of broth and wine. Many use just broth. The ones who view risi e bisi as the food to prepare as a herald of spring will find fresh peas and use the water from the cooking peas as the broth to make risi e bisi. I am not so exuberant in my greeting of Spring. 😉

Risi e Bisi

14-ounce bag frozen peas (a full pound is fine, too)
4 tablespoons butter
2 tablespoons onion, chopped
4 cups chicken stock, or 2 cups stock/2 cups white wine, or 4 cups pea broth
1 cup Arborio rice
1/2 cup Parmesan, freshly grated

In a soup pot or dutch oven, melt the butter over medium heat. Add the onion and sauté until it becomes lightly golden. In a separate pot, heat the stock until it reaches a simmer.

Easy Method:

Once the onion is ready, add 3 cups of the simmering stock, the rice, the bag of frozen peas, and a good pinch of salt. Cover the pot and and cook at a low boil for about 20 minutes, stirring occasionally, until the rice is just tender. If the soup is too thick, thin it slightly with the remaining stock; it should be thick but not porridge. When the rice is ready, add the grated Parmesan and taste for salt. Serve.

More Difficult Method:

Once onions are translucent, add rice to pot. Cook for a few minutes until rice starts absorbing the oil. Add in half a cup of liquid and cook while stirring. Cook down until almost all liquid is absorbed, add another half up of liquid. Cook while stirring until most of the liquid has been absorbed. Continue until all liquid has been cooked. In the last half cup of liquid, add peas. Taste and adjust seasoning. Don’t over salt if adding grated Parm as the cheese will add salt naturally.

* you can add diced pancetta or bacon to the pot with the onions to give it a different flavor or you can add crispy bacon bits at the end along with crunchy fried onions as a garnish. But this is a simple dish created to showcase new Spring peas.

 

 

Being Creative Outside the Box

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Several years back, I was given a book called the Artist’s Way. I was having a mental and emotional crisis in that I was just plain exhausted. Working full time, being a full time mom to two boys, a wife, a daughter, a sister, etc. had taken its toll. And I was spent.

I started working through the workbook, only doing those things I could without adding more stress to my life. And slowly as I took myself out on dates, bought little presents for myself and began to explore creative outlets of which I was so not talented, my mental fatigue began to lift. My life hadn’t changed, but my brain was being recharged anyway. It was an eye-opening experience.

There wasn’t a better way for me to learn the lesson that I MUST take care of myself first BEFORE I can take care of others. Those small little things that I did for myself made me happy and taught me I was just as deserving of my time and attention as everyone else. Take care of yourself first and everything else will follow.

I took myself on lunch dates, movie dates and to museums and art galleries and anywhere that struck my fancy. I bought myself little stickers and colored pencils and postcards. The things I did for myself weren’t expensive. They didn’t
take a lot of time. I didn’t search out exotic and unique stuff. I just picked shit that made me smile. And then I took my happy ass to those places. Sometimes, I’d go with others, but most times I went by myself.

I’m a shitty artist. I drew and colored anyway.

I’m a shitty poet. I wrote the worst poetry EVAR!

I found out I’m pretty shitty at a lot of things. I also found out that I have an assload of fun being shitty at a lot of things.

Today, I decided to teach myself French cooking. I have purchased Julia Child’s 2 volumes cookbook set (yes, that’s how I spent part of my Amazon settlement monies) and I aim to work myself through French technique over the next few months. I might even take a class if I can find one by a classically trained French chef. The chef doesn’t have to be French, just her cuisine. 😉 This is the creative endeavor I’ve chosen for right now. Who knows, I might take up pottery next (and if you have a creative suggestion, please tell!!). Because even though I’m not doing the 9-5 that I was before when I first fell exhausted and spent, writing does take a lot out of you. And to fill the creative well, I stay vigilant to ensure my creative barrel is topped off.

I will probably not pick writing related creative outlets for my self “dates.” It’s one of the reason I choose cooking this time around. Going to concerts and galleries and exposing myself to the creative endeavors of my fellow artists can’t help but spool up ideas in my own mind. Besides without real life experiences, fiction just rings hollow if written by someone who hasn’t experienced some of what the writer is writing about. I think discovering new art fields, finds and niches is a brilliant way to make my mind stay fresh and bright and charged.

I can’t wait to taste all my goody French cuisine. I’m no Iron Chef, but I think I can get damn close.

Autism Awareness Blog Hop

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April is Autism awareness month, with April 2 as its official “day,” and there’s an autism awareness blog hop going on… so. Here we are.

Click the pic to go to the main hop page

I’m not sure why there’s been such a huge increase in incident of autism. Seemingly rational people become not so much when discussing the same. Still, I don’t remember anyone being diagnosed with autism when I was growing up. But I do know several children today who have one form or another. So to increase awareness, to bring attention, and to generally be supportive, this blog hop is taking place.

Perhaps the best known form of autism is Asperger syndrome. People with Asperger syndrome are often of average or above-average intelligence. They have fewer problems with speech than people with other types of autism, but may find it difficult to understand and process language. I have two friends with sons who have Asperger’s. They are bright, funny boys. And because they have Asperger’s many times people can’t tell. But even the milder forms of autism need help and therapy and to have other’s made aware of this serious condition.

In honor of this month and all the fabulous people who are so supportive, I’m giving away an ebook copy of either FarSeen or Hat Trick, the choice is yours. I would supply a copy of Night Blind, but it’s not released yet (hint: I will be doing a hop later this month giving away an ebook copy of Night Blind). So if you pick FarSeen, and then Night Blind sometime later, you’ll have both parts of the OtherKind Prequel. So leave me a comment about anything, even if it doesn’t have anything to do with autism. I’ll draw the winner on April 15- TAX DAY! You know, cause SOMETHING good should happen that day. lol

 

 

What Kind of Writer Are You?

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I’m not really sure, but it doesn’t seem to me that other professions get asked this question based on the medium of their art. I’m a writer. And author on days I want to sound snooty. I’m not a self-pubbed author, or a trade pubbed author, or a hybrid author, or whatever-insert your word in the blank here-author. I’m just an author. Sometimes my work gets to the public via different methods, mediums and modes of publication. But the how of it; that is, how my work gets published,  doesn’t define the what I am.

Stop trying to fucking box me in. I need to be labeled so you can feel secure about all the upheaval and change occurring as a result of the digital revolution finally-finally-hitting books, and book stuffs and book peoples. Don’t lay your shit of needing to tell me what I am at my feet. Keep that shit to your self.

No one goes around saying George Clooney is a traditional actor-or- George Clooney is an indie actor. Nope. They just call him an actor. The awards he gets are for acting REGARDLESS of the type of movie he’s in. Maybe the movie gets minted for an indie category or a traditional category or some such, but the producers, actors, camera peeps, well, everyone just gets called by their title and not by the their title in addition to the types of films they make. Same goes for artist. No one goes around saying he/she/it is an indie painter or a traditional sculptor. No, they just say she’s a painter or he’s a sculptor.

So why the fuck is the fascination for authors to be labeled by their  mode of publication so goddamn hot?

I dunno. But it seems to me, and trust me- I’m a women and a minority- every time someone is trying to pigeon-hole you or label you or stick you in a fucking box, they are doing it out of fear or jealousy or anger or some other negative emotion that makes them react by making you seem smaller, more manageable, tame. And stop labeling yourself. You do yourself no favors. You’re HELPING them box yourself in. They’ve co-opted you in your further marginalization of being relegated to a convenient “label” and forgotten or written off or whatever.

There is a lot of movement going on in an industry that probably hasn’t seen such movement since the moveable type was invented. Some big Houses couldn’t cut it and either went under, got absorbed or went defunct. Consolidation in brick and motor bookstores, the decimation of the independent bookstores, used bookstores has lead to issues as has the digital publishers arrival onto the scene. Shit is happening peeps. And people are fucking scared. But NOW is a time of opportunity. Only, they want to stick you with a label and call it done.

What kind of writer am I? The kind that writes. And chooses were to seek publication based on a variety of factors, the least of which is what you want to call me. The LEAST of which is what you want to call me. So, I’m NOT an indie author, or a traditional author, or a hybrid author, or any-other-thing-you-want-to-call-me-author. I’m just a writer, who’s sometimes an author, who loves having CHOICE in the method of disseminating my work to the public. Don’t label me and try to make me fit your idea of who I am. In fact, don’t do that for any author.

They are authors. I am an author. Period.

Manday Monday

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Happy Monday.

Shemar Moore, y’all. Need I say more? lol

Seriously hot. Smokin’.

Saturday Snippet: More Night Blind

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NIGHT BLIND is available for immediate download over at the Totally Bound website. Click on the pic and it’ll take you right on over there. General release will be April 25, 2014. But why wait until then? Sheesh… instant gratification, peeps. ‘Nuff said. 😉
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Preorder: 14th March 2014 (preorder through TEB website)
Prerelease: 28th March 2014 (available to buy on TEB website)
General Release: 25th April 2014 (available everywhere)

BLURB:

As Lucien, Rory, and Ellie navigate the intricacies of a full triad, including one man new to man-love, they also have to seek and destroy the source of the sickness afflicting witches.

Every Vampire Lord needs a shifter bodyguard. Rory has been Lucien’s for a while now. And although Rory’s been protecting Lucien’s body, Lucien has been just plain lusting after Rory. Unfortunately, Rory’s been rebuffing Lucien’s advances. That is, until Ellie comes along with her witchy bad self. The Witch Council is sending her to Dallas in her capacity as Enforcer. And to make matters more interesting, they’re also sending Lucien and Rory.

Ellie’s mission is to find and destroy the source of the witch sickness. Along the way, she uncovers Rory’s reason for hesitating in accepting Lucien’s advances. Rory’s never been with a man before. As a result, Rory and his wolf are confused when Lucien comes on to him. But with Ellie’s help, Rory’s not confused anymore. Now, what happens in Dallas
 Well, it’s not going to stay in Dallas.

As Lucien, Rory, and Ellie navigate the intricacies of a full triad, they also have to navigate the treacherous home of the Dallas Vampire Lord during the winter solstice. Because something is rotten. And Ellie’s pretty sure it’s the Dallas Vampire Lord.

 

Warning… maybe: One shifter new to manlove, one witch new to threesomes, and one vampire who’s been there and done that
 a thousand times. At least. They’re all new to each other. Add in crazed bad guys unleashing diseases of mass destruction, and well
 what happens in Dallas, it’s not gonna stay in Dallas. Light m/m action, some anal and LOTS of hot menage.

EXCERPT:

“Get the fuck out of my way,” she snarled at the bloodsucking asshole who had stepped in her path.

Christ, she hadn’t signed on for this. She needed to find who she was looking for then get the fuck out of this pit. Before she did something stupid. Like taking out a bitch not on her kill list.

Blood dens were a crap shoot at the best of times. Some were all about the sex. Drawing humans with the lure of the best sex they would ever have in exchange for a little blood during the act. In well-run dens, most of the humans were left alive, and mostly intact. This one was all about exploitation, however. So not a good time for her. She wouldn’t be surprised if some of the humans here, who had signed the liability waiver, didn’t end up dead in this joint.

What flowed through her veins called to vampires. Her blood was sweet and it smelled that way. Almost like catnip for bloodsuckers. But more than that, hers was strong. Given the choice, most of the vamps in the den would have opened her vein and drained her dry—with or without a liability waiver.

Initially, it was her sword holding them back. As well it should. She wasn’t carrying it for looks. It was for killing. And everyone who saw her and saw it, knew it. In a race of killers, her blade was well respected.

Most of the vamps, even in the throes of blood glut, got out of her way. Self-preservation was a miraculous thing. As high as they were, they still knew death’s scent. Permanent death, not the kind that made vampires. The kind that sent them over to the other side. For good.

She felt the power of an older undead before she saw him. Not too strong, but still old. There was enough power in the approaching blood drinker to be the one to run this place. The power signature pressed closer and closer.

“Morrie,” she greeted him, even though she couldn’t see him.

He was approaching her from behind. It was done on purpose. To check her blind spot. Now he knew. They all did.

“Lady,” he gave her the respect of her title. Smart man.

Even if his obeisance came after he had felt how much more powerful she was, she didn’t comment on the hesitation in his greeting. Mostly it was the magic in her sword. But she wasn’t without natural power. She was a witch, after all. Her goddess’s arm of justice. Maybe not as strong as Ellie. But Ellie’s talent lay in healing. Hers lay in enforcing the laws and hunting down those who broke them. Witch rogues, vampire rogues, shape-shifter rogues, elven rogues. All of them. If they broke the law and stepped beyond redemption, she hunted them down and killed them.

She was on the hunt tonight.

“There’s a diseased vamp in here, Morrie. Find him. Bring him to me and I’ll leave the place standing,” she ordered.

“Don’t know what you’re talking ‘bout, Enforcer,” Morrie shot back.

“Morrie, I’ve been chasing this bastard all over town. I followed him here. I can feel him in here. Find him, bring him to me before I tear this fucking place apart trying to find him myself.” She knew he was lying. He knew she knew he was lying.

Time to find out why he was lying later. Right now, she had other things to do.

Morrie looked set to argue with her again. She let some of her magic out. Electricity started sparking from her body. Morrie’s eyes got big. He took a step back, throwing up his hands in supplication.

“If you don’t bring him to me immediately, I will burn this den down,” she said. Her sight developed a slight film as her power filled her. “You make me burn this place down, I’ll do it with everyone inside. Then it’ll be known that you were harboring a rogue and refused to give him to me. You won’t be well liked, Morrie. I won’t even have to hunt you down myself. Your lord will do it for me.”

“Yes, Lady.” Morrie scurried off to do her bidding. “I shall endeavor to find the one you seek immediately.”

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