DELILAH and the LORD OF PLEASURE

My friend the marvelous Delilah Marvelle dishes on her very delicious hero from LORD OF PLEASURE which is released today! This is just the kind of hero I love!

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What makes the hero of my book, LORD OF PLEASURE -- Alexander Baxendale, the Earl of Hawksford -- so delicious and divine? Aside from the fact that I based him off of David Beckham?

Well...what I love most about Alexander Baxendale is his incredible zest toward life. There isn't a thing he won't do in the name of adventure and bliss. That is, until that zest for adventure and bliss is completely snatched away from him by the death of his father. Alexander finds himself inheriting not only the estate but his five overzealous sisters and a not so proper mother. And none of them think he should be in charge.

I absolutely love the idea of taking a man who knows no boundaries and then telling him he can't step outside of his box. It's so incredibly sexy to see the real man beneath the rakish facade step forth to reveal who he really is -- a romantic through and through. I have to say, I loved watching him go from rake to prude while inwardly struggling to become who he really is. And above all, he is not intimidated by the idea of learning what it is he needs to know about pleasuring the woman he loves. Even if it means enrolling himself in a school that will educate him on the matter. Because his woman means that much to him.

I have to say, any man who is willing to re-educate himself on the topic of love and seduction (quite literally...) in order to please his woman is what I call insanely divine and sexy. And of course, if he also happens to look like David Beckham...I'd say he's absolutely PERFECT. Of course, the trouble is....big sigh...he only exists in the pages of LORD OF PLEASURE.

When I finally finished this book, I couldn't help but tell my husband, "Sadly, I am madly in love with a man who doesn't exist." Needless to say, my husband has been trying to outdo Alexander ever since....

LEAVING OUT THE BORING PARTS:Editing that Works

Lately I've been pulling out older manuscripts that for some reason or other have been languishing, and looking them over to see what in the world is keeping them from selling, or in some cases from even making it out the door.

Some of them I easily decided weren't worth further effort. But some of them are among my very favorite stories, yet for each one there's been some reason why they remain in some sort of unfinished state. Some aren't even complete, and have never been given their chance. Yet I love their stories. Time to rescue them. Go through them, beginning to end and see what they need.

Wow. There's nothing like taking a few years away from a story to see its flaws. Shining like Hollywood searchlights! I've learned a lot and changed a lot since then.

That's where the editing comes in. I've known a few authors who can actually write a first draft clean enough to sell, but most of us can't. My biggest tendency is to over-write. So my editing concentrates on cutting out everything that needs to be cut. And that's what I've been examining most.

When I first heard Elmore Leonard's advice, "Try to leave out the part that readers tend to skip," it seemed like such an inane way to state the obvious. Of course I didn't write boring stuff, so it didn't apply to me. Well, I was wrong. I could tell there was something not quite right about my older work, but at first I couldn't put my finger on it. A chapter by itself might sound very exciting, but reading the whole book-

It seems I'd forgotten a few things. Elmore was right. So I got to thinking about what I skip in other people's books.

1. Some love scenes. When a love scene starts to feel like there's nothing new about it, I start skimming. But what I figured out was, it's not the sex that doesn't work- that's sort of incidental. If the plot gets set aside or the lovemaking gives the feeling that there's nothing at stake, the scene is boring. But it's hot as Youknowwhere if the hero and heroine had to put up a wild fight to get to the making love scene, especially if they still have a big fight ahead before everything works out.

2. Lists. Actually I mean over-describing. When the scene is chock full of details describing everything from the patterned draperies to the dust on the floor, there I go skimming again. I'm trying to let the reader do a little of her own imagining, and just give a few sensory hints.

3. Wordy or overly historical dialogue. Complex wording. Trim, cut, simplify. It's the story that should matter, not the glorious words. Save those for poetry.

4. Scenes that don't go anywhere. I'm not too bad about this, but in every book I'll find at least one scene that seems to have no real purpose. If I can only think of one reason for the scene, I ask myself if there's another scene where I can get that point across. The worst place for this is in the opening of the book. Some authors spend two or three chapters getting into the story. I'll probably give them 10 pages and if they still sipping tea in the parlor and discussing new crumpet recipes, I'm off to play Sudoku. Readers get plenty of polite chit chat in their daily lives. They pick up a book because they want an escpe from the ordinary.

5. Dialogue that wanders around, trying to find a conversation. Same as above. Every single line of dialogue needs to contribute, make the story move forward.

6. Repetition. This happens in many ways. Since I usually write books over a long time, sometimes I think I haven't made a vital point. So I do it again. And again. Sometimes I use nearly the same wording. Sorry, time to re-work that. Once is enough.

In internal monologue, and author sometimes thinks the heroine's big problem doesn't seem apparent in the current scene, so it's mentioned again. Internal monologue can be the worst offended in repetition, and it's really the weakest way to get across what's going on in a person's head anyway. Showing it through body language and action is better because it's visual. Thoughts aren't, so they lose power.

The worst habit, though, is to doubt your ability to get your point across so much that you not only show it in action, you then explain it. And then you have the poor character stop to think over what's just been done and why. Say it once.

7. Oh, wait, that's not the worst. The worst is forgetting the story must have conflict in every single page. No hero is exciting, no matter how sexy he is, if he doesn't have a problem and face high obstacles to solve it. He's no hero if he just goes around having fun or making love. The most boring story in the world is the one that can be broken down to this formula:

"Boy meets girl. Boy gets girl. The End."

That's a daydream, not a story.

Happy editing! And may you put lots of story back into your story!

Candle-wax, Daggers and Oat-bags, Oh My!

Lisa Campbell, author of SUPERSTITION'S DESIRE is our guest today.

Wait till you read this fascinating folk medicine lore! I can't wait to read her book, which sounds as fascinating as this great stuff! Read all about it below.

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Suffer from Epilepsy? Try crushing a human skull into a fine powder before sprinkling it on your oatmeal. Wondering about that guy who never calls? Grab a lemon peel and walk around with it under your armpit all day. Once safely ensconced in your bedroom, remove the lemon peel, taking care to rub it on all four posters of your bed, and if you chance to dream of your lover carrying two lemons then he's yours.

Now, if you're reading this and thinking, "Hmmm, what a delightfully warped imagination this woman has," well, you would be wrong (in this particular instance anyway). As much as I would enjoy taking literary credit for crafting such unique rituals, it'd put me in the category of plagiarist. Believe it or not, the aforementioned superstitious rituals were quite the norm centuries ago.

Most superstitious practices are rooted in Paganism, but many of these beliefs were eliminated by those preaching the new idea of Christianity. However, people were just beginning to emerge from Barbarism, and their superstitious practices remained deeply rooted in everyday life.

Conversely, with the rise of Church legislation and the steady progress of scientific knowledge the old forms of superstition were pretty much stamped out, though some survive to this day. How many of us shy away from stepping on side walk cracks for fear of breaking our mother's backs? Personally, I never open an umbrella in the house, and I take pains to handle hand mirrors with great care.

And while these fairly innocuous superstitions endure, I can't help wondering about the origins of the more offensive rituals. I mean, whose shoulders did it fall upon to be the first to test such theories? Now, take a gander at the short list I've compiled. Let's say you were chosen to test the effectiveness of one superstitious ritual; which one would you find the least objectionable?

1. If you can live with the stench, not to mention the decay, carrying a calf's tongue in your pocket will bring good luck.

2. Have a debilitating headache? Try drying and crushing moss found growing in a human skull. You gotta snort it though or it won't work.

3. Eye problems can be cured with a couple quick flicks of the tongue. Make certain the frog's eyes are open before you give'em a nice slurpy lick.

4. When you're done with the frog, kill it, dry it, and stuff it into a little canvas pouch. Be sure to wear it around your neck otherwise that pesky nosebleed won't stop.

5. Troubled by warts? Bathing in the warm blood of a freshly killed mole will clear them right up. But you'll have to catch the little sucker first.

See what I mean?

The next time you avoid walking under a ladder or change directions to dodge a black cat, think about this; we are no more immune to superstitions than our medieval ancestors were. Now throw some salt over your left shoulder, knock on wood and go about your business.


Lisa is the author of SUPERSTITION'S DESIRE, available through Wild Horse Press.
www.allromanceebooks.com
http://www.1romanceebooks.com
www.wildhorsepress.webs.com

The languid days of summer are giving way to the brisk fall evenings of Northern England, as Lady Arabella Wyndmere stares pensively into a small fire, watching the orange flames lick greedily around the edges of her aunt’s letter. Her liberator, Laird Connal MacRae is a handsome devil despite the sun-bleached, jagged scar covering a large portion of his face. Upon meeting, he feels like Arabella looks, utterly stunned. Their instantaneous attraction is unnerving, and Connal must continually remind himself the woman is meant for his older brother, Kellan, as consolation for losing the title of Laird. On their journey to Scotland, Connal immediately realizes Arabella's superstitious practices are deeply held tenets. Nevertheless, despite her heretical beliefs and his death before dishonor credo, their mutual desire spins out of control leaving them no choice except to wed. Yet, something far more dangerous than desire stalks from the shadows, and in a climate of treachery and betrayal, the greatest risk of all, is to surrender to the depth of feeling, of unexpected love.

FINDING SIREN'S HOME:Hawaiian Odyssey Part 2

After such a wonderful time on Hawai'i Island, we were expecting O'ahu to be as great. It would have been, surely, if I just hadn't picked up that nasty bedfellow, Swine Flu. I was soooo sick. And I had so much I wanted to do.

Fortunately for me, I've got a great hubby. Sitting around in a condo suite with a sick wifey in the other room is not exactly his dream vacation. But he not only took great care of me, he helped me do my necessary research. He managed to pick up several brochures and books for me, but the most helpful thing he did was to drive me where I needed to go. Where I couldn't go, he'd go for me.

I needed to see inside Diamond Head crater, and its outside slopes, to figure out how a person would get to the top in the mid 1800's. That was something I could do without coming into contact with anyone, so on Wednesday after the doctor visit, we drove there.

Diamond Head http://www.hawaiistateparks.org/parks/oahu/index.cfm?park_id=15
is an extinct spatter cone, probably created in a single eruption. Its distinctive shape, higher on the southwest side, is an effect of the tradewinds, which blow from NE to SW, and blew the light cindery material of the eruption in that direction. (Low side of crater rim in left photo, high side in right photo.) The crater floor is very flat, and entrance today is through a tunnel built in 1910. But the cone isn't very high, 780 feet, and the outer slope is not too steep to climb. Even in 1851, accessing the crater from the low side wouldn't have been hard. But I can see from my visit that my original idea to have my heroine and hero climb outside the crater on the south side is very workable. It's obvious to me the ancient Hawai'ians would have found the crest a useful place to watch the sea.

On the way, we drove along the South Shore, past Waikiki and by Hawaii Kai. In the 19th Century, this beach was a swampy area of fish and duck ponds. Islanders often grew taro away from the ocean. When the Ala Wai Canal was built in 1922, it drained the run-off from the high windward mountains and allowed Waikiki Beach to form.

The village where my Islanders might have lived , where my hero was washed ashore, could have been in this area, but I have been imagining them at Hanauma Bay.



So we went by Hanauma Bay. If you go to Hawai'i, you must see this beautiful place if you see no other. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Hanauma_Bay Everyone loves this place, too much. So in the 1990's steps had to be taken to limit the number of people who visit. I saw it first in 1995, and bought food for the fish. To my surprise, a large blue and yellow fish (could have been one of several species, maybe a parrot fish) immediately leaped from the water and grabbed my packet of food just as I was opening it. He got the whole thing, and was gone- that quick.


This time I could only stand at the cliff and take a few pictures. And wish for more. We drove along past Koko Head, but that was all I could do.

My fever was finally gone on Friday, and I felt a lot better. The doctor said I didn't have to isolate myself anymore, but I sure didn't have a lot of strength. I decided to skip the Bishop Museum- at least I'd been there before. But I had to see the Mission Houses Museum. It's one of the best places to get an idea what life was like for the Americans and Europeans who began to populate the Islands in the 19th Century.

The coral stone house in the foreground has a faux finish to remind the missionaries of the brick houses they left behind. In the background is a later house built in New England style. By this time they were beginning to understand the Islands, and knew how to get a good cross breeze from the tradewinds.

There's a display room that has some wonderful dioramas showing the misson houses and church being built, with some native houses, the dirt roads, and people in the business of being people. And the wonderful mid-century engraving of Honolulu and its harbor were exactly what I needed.

That's also where I got the lovely quilted pillow top for my grand prize winner, Martha E. I'd been really disappointed in Hilo Market, finding almost nothing of interest, and very little that was actually Hawai'ian. I saw other pieces of Hawai'ian quilting, and they were very nice, but the stitching lacked the qualty of true Hawai'ian work, which often sells for thousands of dollars in a full size quilt.

At the Mission Houses Museum, a local group of quilters, many of them reknowned for their handwork, gathers weekly to quilt and enjoy each others' company. When I saw their work, I was so impressed! The quality is truly the superb needlework I've seen in the finest of quilts, and their patterns are the true Hawai'ian style.

One more place to visit. Waimea Falls Botanical Park http://www.hawaiiweb.com/html/waimea_valley_adventure_park.html

on the far northern shore of O'ahu. But going from south to north is not really a very big deal for the island isn't all that big. I've been there before, but it is always worth another trip. The park features many tropical gardens and some revivalist archaeological sites. Quite honestly, for my time period, there isn't much to help me there. But it's a very refreshing and lovely place to vist, and in the few hours we had left, it was very enjoyable.

I don't know if you can see this little fellow or not, but he's a very endangered little mudhen. He's in the lower center and is gray with red on his bill. This is an enlargement so it's not very clear.

So we missed Iolani Palace, The Bishop Museum, the luau, and Polynesian Cultural Center. And there was the trip up the Windward Side to find an odd little place lodged in my memory from 1995. But I'll just have to draw from what I see in my mind for that. I was going to re-make t anyway. After all, it is a fantasy I'm writing. Some things must come from the imagination.

I'll have to change a few details, but mostly I'm happy with my story the way I planned it. And Siren has a home, where she is known as Namaka-o-Kaha'i, and lives with her hero, John Wall, in Haipo's village on the shore of Hanauma Bay.

And thanks again to our mostly perplexed Hero Jeff, who saved the trip as well as the wife.

SIREN and the Hawaiian Research Odyssey

Only a few weeks late, but I'm finally going to tell you about my Most Beautiful Place on Earth, and the story that made the research necessary. Of course you know I will do anything for research, and it's only coincidental that the place I have to research happens to be the one place I'd rather go than anywhere else. Really. Honest.


All right, not quite. But it is true that my knowledge of Hawaii helped to form the story. Nothing in this story is possible, of course. But it's still my job to persuade you the story is real. You won't need to know everything I know, but if I don't know it, I won't present my story authentically. And so there I was, marveling at the sea as it crashes ashore at the black sand beach at Punalu'u. The sea really is a different color here, a deeper, more dramatic, purer blue because of the black sand beneath it. (That's a sea turtle. The sign says to leave her alone- she's resting. She's had a long journey.)

SIREN is a novella, a historical fantasy romance of the seas, taking place mostly under the sea, but the last third takes place on O'ahu. It's the story of an ordinary man who fell into the Siren's embrace and found himself beneath the sea as Siren's lover. In my story, when Siren comes ashore to rejoin her lover, John Wall, the Islanders call her Namaka-o-Kaha'i, the older sister of Pele. They say when Pele and Namaka-o-Kaha'i were feuding, Pele threw burning lava at her and set her hair afire. And Siren's long fiery red hair proves it because her hair is still burning. But John Wall is just a man, and nothing that has happened to him is possible. He doesn't understand Siren, or sea goddesses, how he could have lived beneath the sea without breathing, or how he got from the Coast of Africa to the middle of the Pacific. He only knows he loves Siren obsessively.

Before I left I was still toying with the idea of setting it on The Big Island. Everything could fit there. But it was Pele I found everywhere on the Big Island.

This is her home, Halema'uma'u Crater, on Kilauea. It's immense. It's really a crater within a giant 8-shaped crater, with the smaller Kilauea Iki at the far end. Several years ago we hiked across the floor of Kilauea Iki, a long, hot and steamy hike with nearly vertical descent and ascent back out of the crater. You can see some nearly vertical crater walls above. Below, you can see part of the bigger crater from a different viewpoint.


The crater is hazy here. All that steam is loaded with sulfur dioxide. I didn't realize how active the volcano would be while we were there, and I under-estimated how nasty the fumes could be.

We drove down the Chain of Craters road, which drops from the almost chilly height of over 4,000 feet to sea level in only a few miles, over a high cliff where the volcanic rock drop-faulted over a thousand feet. The hardened lava looks ropy and sinuous from the air, but up close the thick flows are chaotic jumbles. Forests of tree ferns and ohi'a lehua at the summit, but a massive swath of death and chaos below. Here is where the road ends, cut off by a large lava flow. In the distance, maybe you can see the point formed by the new lawa flows.

http://www.nps.gov/havo/planyourvisit/upload/entire_park_final.pdf
This is a link to a terrific map of the park and the Chain of Craters Road.

We drove to the other side of the road, where people often walk in at night to view the glowing lava. We did the walk across the old flows to the sea, about a mile, we guessed. Not a smart thing to do in sandals. The black sand is like a very coarse grit, and it gets into open shoes and makes for painful walking. We were disappointed because we couldn't see much, but it was becoming obvious the sulfur dioxide was not good for my lungs so we didn't make the night walk.


Instead, we enjoyed the incredible full moon from the lava block hot tub. I've been to this condo three times, and it's the hot tub that's really unforgettable. But it's so quiet, so peaceful- only the crashing waves can be heard at night.









On our return to Kona to fly out to Honolulu, we stopped once again at our favorite restaurant, Coffee Shack which sits on the cliff high above Kealakekua Bay, where Captain Cook was killed in 1779. We're almost 2,000 feet up, and on the steep slope below is a coffee plantation, where the most wonderful coffee in the world grows.



A couple of geckos vied for right of way on the lanai railing. I watched for awhile, and the poor fellow on the right always gave in and slid over the railing to let the others pass.

I'm always so sad to leave the Big Island because I love it so much. But as we flew out of Kona, and I looked down at the haze of grit, steam and gases the trade winds had blown in from Kilauea, I knew this was not the place for my story. This is Pele's home. The land echoes with her power. Pele the Creator of Land, Pele the Eater of Land.

No, my Siren/Namaka-o-Kaha'i belongs somewhere else. And that will be O'ahu. I'll tell you all about it , and why, next time.

Oh, and I'll tell you about the great prizes I found, too. Including the one I'm keeping.

Coming Back!

I'm finally on the mend! Thanks, all of you for your patience.

I'm planning a post for tomorrow, Thursday July 2, so you can know Hawai'i is still my most beautiful place on earth, even if it does harbor nasty H1N1 viruses. I'm going through my photos now, and I have to say I have major regrets for all the wonderful things I missed. But I didn't miss everything.

Delle

Taking a Break

I'm sorry but I'm going to have to take a break from all major responsibilities for at least another week. We had a wonderful time on the Big Island, but just as we landed in Honolulu I started to get sick. Tuesday is a blur of fever, aches and pains and coughing. Wednesday, the doctor diagnosed Influenza Type A and did further tests for Swine Flu, which he said was all over the Islands. I haven't received the results yet, but the doctor was pretty sure that's what I have. I'm surprised he let me fly home Friday night, with proper precautions.

Today I'm only mildly better than I was last Friday, and the cough has turned to bronchitis. I am under so much medication that my brain is not functioning in any useful intellectual capacity. That means I'm not writing or doing anything except sleeping.

I did get several good research books, though, and did get the chance to go to several places that will be in my SIREN story, even though I only saw them from the car. I think I've got some great photos to show you. And I'll try to get those up next week.

Thanks all of you for hanging in there with me. And I'll be praying that none of you get this nasty little bedfellow.