First-Round Edits for "Worth His Freedom"

We received and have sent back our first round of edits for Worth His Freedom. We're quite pleased with Evernight and Caitlin Ray for thorough, intelligent, and piercing edits. Reading as both an editor and as a reader must be tough, and we respect the talent and know-how that an editor must have to do his or her job well. 


It was funny that our publisher gave us two weeks to do the edits. We finished in two hours -- but, then, we've always moved fast. We've completed the MS for our second novel -- still hush-hush on what it's about and the title and all that -- so once Worth His Freedom has a set release date, we'll be subbing again. 


Wish us luck!

Evernight Publishing Birthday Bash

Evernight Publishing celebrates its first birthday October 1st, 2011. If you join in the Author Blog Hop, you'll be eligible for great prizes, such as a $40 Evernight gift certificate or even $50 credit on your paypal account. But the grand prize is even better: a Kindle e-reader! That's right. Go here for more details, and get hopping!

Review of Georgia Fox's "The Virgin Proxy"

Author: Georgia Fox
Title: The Virgin Proxy
Length: Full

Author's Blurb

When the Normans conquered England, Deorwynn lost almost everything, including her family. Only one beloved brother survives.  To rescue him, she must sacrifice her virginity in the enemy’s bed.  She should be well prepared.  After spending fifteen years in a grim convent, punished for every sinful thought, Deorwynn can withstand any torment at the hands of a merciless, Norman warrior.

But nothing, she soon learns, could prepare her for falling in love.

Guy Devaux is delighted with the amorous virgin waiting for him on his wedding night.  There’s only one problem.  The saucy-mouthed wench is not his bride. Oh yes, he knows the veiled woman in his bed is an imposter, but he’ll go along with the game.  For now.  The punishment for her deception will come later. 

Just as soon as he conquers this foolish desire, this yearning to hear her say she loves him.

What I Thought


The positive points:
The romance was fiery, showcasing the wildness of both the hero and the heroine. Their physical attraction was clear, and Georgia Fox's descriptions of their sex were varied and vivid, with period-appropriate terminology which added to the atmosphere. The pacing was strong, and the book did not flag. The ending was satisfying, with Deorwynn well-settled into her new life, enjoying her new love. The growth of Guy was equally enjoyable, and his behavior was consistent and believable, given his established personality.


The negative points:
There were not many, as Georgia Fox's style is easy and polished, her command of her characters strong and good. The largest difficulty was in the anachronistic behavior of the hero. A fear of "settling down" in marriage would not have been a feeling that a Norman of the period would have.


Adonis says...

Get it here.

Review of Kelly Yeakle's "Forbidden Desires"

Author: Kelly Yeakle
Title: Forbidden Desires
Length: Full

Author's Blurb

When Dani meets the delicate beauty that is Carmen she knows instantly that she wants her—in her life and in her bed. But can Miss. Commitment-phobic look beyond the sex to see the woman beneath?


To Carmen, the wildly beautiful Dani is a new and exciting friend. What she hadn't counted on is the simmering desire she feels when in Dani's presence. As her relationship with her boyfriend sours, Carmen begins to wonder if there is more to Dani than she realizes.


Should she give in to this, the most forbidden of desires?


What I Thought


The positive points:
The romance developed at a pace which I found believable, and the story arc was satisfactory, showing both Dani's growth from a commitment-phobic flirt to a one-woman girl as well as Carmen's realization of her bisexuality. Their physical attraction was displayed from the beginning, and the alternating points of view showed both sides clearly. The ending was fitting, giving Carmen the happily-ever-after she had always longed for and Dani the one she had never known she needed. Both characters were well-developed, and their interactions were believable.


The negative points:
The sex scenes were repetitive, and there was insufficient description of the "naughty things" which Dani fantasized about doing to Carmen. Instead of showing what Dani had in mind, Kelly Yeakle gives only a light gloss of the sex between the two women. In particular, the scene in Carmen's parents' house, where the pair first have sex, ought to have received a more thorough treatment. It was the first time Carmen had had sex with another woman, and the description ended after Carmen was brought to climax for the first time. More description would have helped to explain the change in Carmen between that night and the next morning.

Adonis says...

Get it here.

Review of Carolyn Rosewood's "Hunted"

Author: Carolyn Rosewood
Title: Hunted
Length: Novella

Author's Blurb

For the past four hundred years, Jahi Wickes has made forged documents and credit cards for the female demons who seduce men into signing away their souls. While enjoying the parades at Mardi Gras, she's ambushed by two angels. One is her former guardian angel, and the other is the Nephilim who’s tracking him.


Dagon has been chasing Vassago for three years. His first big break comes in the form of a cute, sexy demon. When he learns the real reason Vassago is hunting her, Dagon has more trouble than he bargained for. Not only was Vassago sent to guard souls in Purgatory after screwing up his assignment with Jahi, but the person who paid him to destroy her is one of her fellow demons.


What I Thought


The positive points:
I enjoyed the skill with which Carolyn Rosewood drew me into the story. From the first page, with its Mardi Gras parade and attempted capture of the heroine, I was interested. I wanted to know what happened next. I also appreciated that I did not have to have read the previous installment in her series to understand and enjoy this one. The sex scenes were steamy; each one was hot without being repetitive, which was quite a feat considering the proportion of the novella which was taken up with the sex. The plot had just enough twists to keep it interesting without overburdening the novella. Do not assume, however, this book, despite its angels-and-demons motif, to follow standard Christian mythology.


The negative points:
There were not many because Carolyn Rosewood writes in a smooth, readable style, well-suited to her subject matter. The biggest drawback for me was the rushing of the romance between Jahi and Dagon. It was not precisely a "love-at-first-sight" romance, despite the physical attraction so clearly present on both sides. Had it been a full love-at-first-sight, that would have been different. As it was, however, the love which grew up between Dagon and Jahi was not given, in my opinion, sufficient scope or time. This is a necessary constraint of the novella form, though, and not something I could legitimately hold against the otherwise extremely well-executed story.


Look for longer works from Ms. Rosewood in the future!


Adonis says...

Get it here.

Cover art and blurb for "Worth His Freedom"

We have received the cover art for our first novel, "Worth His Freedom", and we must say that we are deeply impressed! Dara England and Evernight have really outdone themselves with this beautiful cover! Special thanks to Xondra Day for the title suggestion.

Miria, a young noblewoman on the cusp of an arranged marriage, meets the Ausir Tsalrin, her father's mysterious assassin, and sparks fly immediately. They face obstacles of political machinations and racial intolerance. Tsalrin is trapped by an ancient curse, and Miria cannot escape her father or the husband to whom he would sell her, a man who sees her merely as a political tool. Miria and Tsalrin's position is impossible, but neither one will give up their hidden love. Theirs is a story of struggle against abuse, bigotry, and paterfamilias. Their love is both their greatest danger and their only comfort as they search for their mutual freedom.

My climb of Mt. Fuji

Where do I start?

I'm lying here in bed, aching all over, with a headache that has lingered since yesterday. Before the climb began, I met a 76-year-old man who said it was his ninth time to climb the volcano. He wanted to climb it ten times. I thought that was great. Maybe I'd do the same thing some day. I was in such a good mood. I was going to climb Mt. Fuji! We were all friends; we were all comrades in arms, ready to conquer the mountain. If I saw that old man today, I'd punch him in the face. What kind of idiot climbs Mt. Fuji more than once? Turns out, a crapload.

I climbed with two of my friends. We took a bus to the Fifth Station. Fuji has ten stations, the first being at the bottom of the mountain, the tenth being the summit. Almost everyone starts from the Fifth, because until that point, the mountain is forested. Mosquitoes would kill you. Or the humidity. So, we started at the tree line.

I bought a walking stick with "Fifth Station" branded into it. Along the way, hikers stop at each station and get the stick stamped. I didn't. I figured I'd just get the "Tenth Station" stamp at the top.

We set off, singing songs and having a good time. It was 10 pm. I will always think of Fuji as that black monstrosity filling the night, with the stars and the nearly-full moon just out of reach. The climb between the Fifth and Sixth Stations was mild. We were in good spirits, and we kept gawking at all the stars in the sky. See, when you live in Tokyo, the sky is nothing more than blackwashed background light, so you forget there are stars up there.

We saw shooting stars, we made jokes, we laughed, and we chatted with other hikers. One man asked if I was born here. I said no. He thought I had been because my Japanese is so good. Wow. The best compliment I've ever received about my Japanese ability. Things were great. Everything was perfect. I was climbing the most beautiful mountain in the world, one of the most spiritually-significant places in Japan.

At the Seventh Station, after picking our way up large, misshapen outcroppings of volcanic rock, one of my friends started to feel queasy. His supper wasn't sitting well with him. He'd tried to climb Fuji the year before and had failed to reach the top. He was prone to altitude sickness. I wondered if it might be striking him again. He soldiered on, though we paused for five-minute breaks at every ramen- or curry-selling hut we came across, these little wooden shacks manned by two or three men, selling food, drink, or places to nap at exorbitant prices. $6 for a bottle of water?? $50 for a place to nap for a couple hours??

Before we reached the Eighth Station, that same friend couldn't go on. He felt lightheaded, queasy, and he couldn't feel his fingertips. Not enough oxygen to his brain, I guessed. We were just below the 3000-meter mark. He called it quits and shelled out a lot of cash for a place to crash for the night. My other friend and I carried on.

From the Eighth Station on, our merriment evaporated as quickly as our sweat in the cold, night winds. The mountainside grew twice as steep, and the air got thinner with every step. My legs would pick my feet up and put them down, but often I would step wrong, slip on a large stone I had not seen before me. My vision blackened at the edges. My walking stick was the only thing that kept me upright. I was always in the lead, and sometimes I thought I was holding up my friend, but whenever I turned back, there he was, leaning on his stick, swaying. I wondered if he might tumble backwards down the mountain. But then I realized I was doing the same thing. Climb five steps/rocks, then stand still like a zombie and just sway there, trying to catch my breath, trying to figure out why I ever decided to climb this mountain in the first place.

Fuck this mountain, we decided on our next break.

We saw lights ahead. We could even see the summit. The black mountainside was riddled with blinking dots of light. The Ninth Station -- just ahead! We reached those nearest lights. Nope. OK, that next set of lights, then! Nope. The next? Maybe. I don't remember. Eventually we reached the Ninth Station. We could hear thousands of people at the top waiting for the sunrise. It was 4 am. We were almost there. The sun would be up within the hour. We could make it!

Although we knew this, we didn't feel it, neither in our minds nor our bodies. We resumed our zombie shuffle-climb. Seriously, fuck this beautiful mountain.

The little space between the Ninth and Tenth Stations was like a bad dream: no matter how far we climbed, the summit had not moved. It was just as far away as the last time we'd checked. Fuji was fucking with us. The mountain, now grey in the pre-dawn light, was mocking us. You'll never make it to the top, it said. That's the thing about Fuji: those who have the will to make it to the top, will; those who don't, won't.

Sunrise was imminent, and the summit was as unreachable as it always had been during that last, interminable hour. We stopped on the mountainside, took up a couple of seats on rocks spewed out of the volcano ten-thousand years ago, and fumbled with our cameras. We took pictures because that's what we were supposed to do, not because we wanted to. Know what we wanted to do? Die.

Without warning, cheering erupted from the summit. Those people were above us. It would be about fifteen more seconds before we would see the sun crest the horizon. I felt human again; the cheers of the people above me inspired me to press on, to reach what they had reached. And then the sun came. Night was gone. It was a new day, a day in which I could conquer the mountain. We heard a man scream, "Honjitsu ha 2011 nen 8 gatsu 11 nichi!" And everyone screamed out "banzai" while raising their arms toward the rising sun.

Our stumble to the top was not pretty. We passed the final torii gate, a coin-filled, wood-cracked structure. Less than 1% of Japanese ever make it to this point on the mountain.

I waited for my friend to catch up, and when he did, we put our arms around each other and 1-2-3 stepped at the same time onto Mt. Fuji's peak.

We had done it, and with a few more steps, the crater of the volcano opened up to us. It was as deep as nearly a third of the mountain's height. The biggest hole I'd ever seen. On the other side of the crater--on the other side of the world--stood an old temple, stood against typhoons, strong winds, winter snows, and brutal sun.

We decided not to walk around the crater. It would've taken an hour or more, and we were dead. I was shaking all over from the cold, so after a short rest, I got my stick stamped, and we began our descent.

The descent takes a different trail, very much a zigzag of not-so-steep declines made of loose, red, volcanic soil. I don't have much to say about the descent except that it sucked. Going up the mountain is tough; going down is painful. Can you imagine how badly your feet would hurt after slide-walking down 1500 meters of loose soil? Blisters formed and then popped and then formed again. My feet are raw. I did the whole thing in jeans and running shoes.

Our smart, rested friend met us at the Eighth Station on our way down. We all slapped on sunscreen, and as I was faster than the others, I told them I'd meet them at the Fifth Station. I had to get off the mountain as soon as possible. Fuck this majestic, amazingly beautiful mountain.

I ran into all kinds of people along the way, old men, couples, even a gaggle of junior-high school girls who asked me every question they could think of asking a foreigner. But I was in a foul mood at that point, grumbling my answers, vowing to never step foot on a mountain again.

I got home and slept 13 hours. I guess I'm glad I climbed Mt. Fuji. Bucketlist and whatnot. But if someone asked me if they should climb it, I'd say: Hell. No.