Anastasia Rabiyah

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 (www.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 (www.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
www.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
www.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: 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