The Secret Life of Shifters, or Where Do I Get My Ideas? by Rebecca Rivard

Ideas bubble up…

Authors are often asked where they get their ideas. And honestly, sometimes even I’m not sure—they seem to bubble up from nowhere. But I clearly remember that the idea for my Fada Shapeshifter Series began on a sunny day in a local park, swimming with my man in our favorite creek. This particular spot is magical in the way that only nature can be: sunlight streaming through tall trees; shadowy green places alive with colorful butterflies and dragonflies; and running through it all, a lovely little creek.

That day, though, as I looked at a crevice in the large rocks that tumble along the creek’s edge, I found myself imagining that the rocks hid another, magical world. I love reading about shifters, so I immediately visualized a man, a shapeshifter. Watching us—but not in a creepy, stalker-kind-of way. No, he was simply keeping an eye on the human intruders—us.

The Fada Shapeshifter Series is born…

It was another year or so before I actually started writing, but by then I had all sorts of ideas for a sexy new paranormal romance series:

·       What if the rocks hid an entrance to another world, a world that coexists with ours, but with its own people and conflicts?

·       The man who was in the water might be the alpha of his clan. And of course, they would be water shifters, capable of shifting to animals such as dolphins, fish or even otters.

·       And maybe this world has other magical beings, such as fae and dryads, who look down on the shapeshifters for their animal genes…

From there I was off and running with my story of the Rock Run river fada clan, and their alpha’s desperate gamble to save his clan from the local sun fae queen.

And did I mention that the alpha was hot, wet and sexy?

 A dark shifter alpha…

A jaded fae queen…

The fate of both their clans hangs in the balance.

Here’s the first scene:

SEDUCING THE SUN FAE (The Fada Shapeshifter Series, #1)

Dion’s breath hitched. Damn, the sun fae queen was hot—and not just because she, like all her people, carried a touch of the sun’s radiance within her.

No, her body was a feast for the senses: long and lithe, with nicely curved hips and breasts that would fill his hands perfectly—and he was a large man. The queen didn’t bother to conceal that taut, sexy body either. She was wearing a gauzy dress the color of ripe apricots, and as she and her entourage approached the stream where he lurked, the short skirt revealed flashes of smooth golden thighs.

His whole body heated despite his hiding place in the cool stream.

He scowled. It wasn’t the first time he’d seen Queen Cleia, but he’d been careful not to get too close, knowing the woman used her looks as a weapon. He’d steeled himself to fight her attraction; the sun fae were famous for their allure, and their queen’s beauty was legendary. Cleia didn’t disappoint: exotically tilted eyes, pouty red lips and hair a gleaming river of sunshine. But he hadn’t bargained on his immediate, intense response.

The woman was pure, undiluted sex.

The queen strolled past, close enough that he could have reached up and dragged her into the stream with him. It was late May, and already the weather hinted at the summer heat to come. She paused to cool herself by lifting her hair. The movement raised her breasts as well, the nipples pressing against the apricot gauze.

He drew a slow breath, his gaze riveted on those tempting points, and she glanced in his direction. Quickly, he ducked beneath the surface so that she saw nothing but a shadowy undulation in the flowing stream.

Not that she couldn’t have sensed him if she tried. He had a Gift for blending into the waters and wetlands that were his natural habitat, but a woman such as her, his equal in power, could penetrate the illusion if she wished. But she believed herself safe on the lush, flower-filled grounds of her sprawling compound as she strolled with her companions, a regal, copper-haired woman nearly as lovely as herself and a pair of glowering blond guards.

The queen shrugged and turned back to her friend. Dion slipped between the cattails that edged the stream and lifted his head to watch her pass. Her scent filled his head, sweet and a bit tart, like a fresh-plucked orange.

She was close…so close. Close enough for him to see the vulnerable curve where her hair had fallen forward over one shoulder, exposing her nape and the delicate pointed ear of a pureblood fae.

His fingers flexed on the stream bed.

Not yet.

It would be easy to take her. He was a master of the quick, silent death. But it was too risky with her guards just steps away. If he was caught, his clan would be embroiled in a war, and weakened as they were, they just might lose.

Besides, killing a woman didn’t sit right—even a heartless bitch like Cleia. No, he had a better idea.

The two women continued past and he angled his body upstream after them. As he flowed into the dappled shade cast by a massive willow, Cleia threw back her head in amusement at something her companion said. Her rich laugh stroked over his body like a promise.

His cock hardened—but damn if his lips didn’t lift too. For the first time he understood that the allure of the woman was not simply in her unashamed sensuality.

He blinked and hardened his jaw. She would not hook him like a foolish young fish.

This was the bitch queen who’d lured so many of his warriors, used them, and then cast them aside. They returned home pale and worn out, some of their best years gone. And with each man she drained and sent back to him, the clan’s fishing grounds grew less fertile, the women more restless and unhappy, the children more prone to illness. Even their vineyards produced half of what they once had.

And it had been going on for twenty years.

Twenty fucking years.

But no more. He was going to end it. Queen Cleia had met her match. No more would she take his men to feed her royal ego. She’d revealed a weakness to young Tiago, and he intended to take advantage of it.

He’d seen all he needed. But he hesitated, curiously reluctant to leave.

When he realized he was waiting for another burst of laughter, he scowled and turned downstream in an abrupt movement that splashed water against the bank. The guards rushed in his direction, but already power was rippling over his skin, cool and refreshing as a summer storm. Limbs changed to fins and a tail, his gills grew more prominent, and scales formed a shimmering armor.

By the time the guards reached the stream all they saw was an enormous silver fish. They cursed angrily, guessing he was a river fada. A fae-ball whizzed past his head, searing the air in a fiery arc, but he flexed his tail and dove deep, heading back to his river.

Soon, whispered the water as it slid past his scales. Soon.

Excerpt from Seducing the Sun Fae, ©2015 Rebecca Rivard.

Want to read more? You can sample Seducing the Sun Fae  on Amazon or Goodreads. And I’m excited to announce that from June 16 through June 19, Seducing the Sun Fae is on sale for just $0.99. Or read it for free if you have Kindle Unlimited. Click here: http://amzn.com/B00VDND708

Seducing the Sun Fae is the first in a series of three novels featuring the Rock Run river fada, a clan of river-based shapeshifters.

And I’d like to give a big thanks to Sharon Buchbinder for hosting me on her blog today!

—Rebecca Rivard

Judging a Book by Its Cover: Circle of Dreams by Jane S. Morrissey

What’s in an image? Dare I say everything… There are far too many books in a book store and even more books than we could ever imagine available online. With a fraction of a second, we skim the book cover in our genre of choice. If the image is sufficiently compelling maybe we pause to read the book cover title, and then the back blurb, maybe a few reviews. 

Even to consider downloading a free book is a commitment of time. And we all have precious little of that these days.

So, why am I writing a blog about the book cover?

I have learned a valuable lesson about book cover art this week that I wanted to share. When I was working on the design for Circle of Dreams and the Quytel series I fear that my puritanical roots may have entered into my decision making and taste. By that I mean, I had wanted a book cover that was not too overtly sexy. Sitting back now, I wonder at my motivation, and realize this is most likely an artifact of my having read many romance novels as a young person and feeling embarrassed by the glossy, graphic book covers that showed the embrace of gorgeous, scantily clad couples. There are also gender stereotypes that these sexy book covers imply that were on some level disturbing to my non-conformist ideology. The truth is that my book cover does conform to some gender stereotypes and heterosexual norms, but with a heroine and hero who are equally matched.

What has come to my attention in the time since Circle of Dreams has been released, is that my book cover, however artful, is ambiguous. It is perhaps unclear to potential readers that this is a story features strong, sexy characters with exceptional abilities who face increasingly dangerous challenges as they explore their romantic and sexual need for each other.

As I revamped my book cover, I began to realize and embrace the idea that sexy images that tell a story gives us a kind of permission. From the moment we purchase or download the book, we know that erotic, exciting, hopefully titillating scenes will be touchstones as we read. Those moments allow us to be aroused, moved, and vulnerable along with our characters.

I am proud to unveil my revamped book cover!  I hope you like it!

Character Interview: Cole Courtland from Circle of Dreams

Where are you from? Did you have a happy childhood?

My twin sister and I grew up deep in the Montana wilderness. Our mother was human and our father was a shape shifting wolf, who was also a brutal alcoholic. We grew up in his pack and were half-breed outcasts, which only made him more violent. When we were three my mother figured out a way to escape. With two shape shifting, cub children, she made her way across the country with no money and no resources. We relied on the kindness of strangers until my mom could get a job. She’d trained as a nurse so was able to get per diem nursing jobs here and there. We moved just about every year until we were in our early teens to make sure he never found us.

Where do you live now and what do you do for a living? Is there something you'd rather be doing?

Now I live in the San Francisco Bay Area and my twin sister and I run a private investigation firm where we mainly investigate cases with a paranormal twist. In addition to being part wolf, we both have other psychic abilities. When we were in college we met three other people who were like us and the five of us went into business together after we graduated. Our clientele is often highly secretive and want results without needing to know too much about how we got them. There isn’t anything I’d rather be doing. I was born for this.

What's going on in your life right now?

One of our key informants was found dead. His body was deflated, drained of every ounce of fluid. His was only one in a long string of murders along the west coast of the US with this profile. This one is a personal case for all of us on the team.

Is there someone special in your life?

Yes.

How did you meet? What's his/her family like?

I met Bri through the course of my investigation into these murders. Once we got into the case, there were paranormal phenomena that pulled me into Bri’s world in a dangerous way.

Bri’s family is another matter altogether. My family has certainly had their challenges, but my sister and I are incredibly close to our mother. We’ve been through hell and back together and those kind of experiences cemented our relationships long ago. Bri lost her parents when she was five, both of them, and then went to live with her wealthy and eccentric adoptive father. Growing up was lonely for her. The truth about her past and her family are part of what puts both of us at risk.

What's keeping you two apart?

Did I mention Bri’s family? It’s not only that her adoptive father doesn’t like me much in the beginning, but Bri has a strong sense of protecting those she loves even if it means she has to go to extreme measures to do so. It’s part of what I love about her, and part of what makes her so elusive.

What one thing could you do that would make you feel like the relationship will work out?

All I ask is that Bri give me a chance and if what we have to face doesn’t kill us, I think we’ll make it.

Any last comments?

Circle of Dreams will introduce you to the world of the Quytel. I learn about who and why they are, right along with you. They are a race of people born with psychic abilities and branded with a genetic marker. Three Judges, three Seekers, seven Warriors and a Commander make a Quytel Circle. The seven Circles are bound to specific geographic territories on Earth. Through near immortality, powerful psychic abilities, and an unbreakable bond that ties them together, they are the servants of justice on Earth. This is the first book in the Quytel Series. I hope you enjoy our story!

Book blurb

Leader of an elite psychic team, Cole Courtland is a shape-shifting wolf with a deep connection to the power of the Earth. His investigation of a string of mysterious murders throws him into the dangerous world of the Quytel and leads him straight to Brianna Doherty’s door. Bri is plagued by vicious nightmares of death and pain that leave her wondering about her own history. When her home is under siege, an enigmatic stranger appears out of nowhere to save her. Thrown together in a tangle of desire and danger, they are pulled deeper into the secretive world of the Quytel, an ancient order charged with maintaining the balance of psychic and paranormal power on earth. Staying one step ahead of those who would destroy them, they struggle to unravel the truth of Bri’s past and her family legacy. As her relationship with Cole grows stronger, the reality of who Bri is threatens to tear them apart.

Excerpt

Chapter 1

               Struggling against the confines of the damp bedsheets, which had become wrapped around her long legs during her fitful sleep, Brianna Doherty kicked them off in frustration. The clock on her nightstand read two-thirty. She groaned. Another sleepless night.

               She tossed on her robe as she made her way to the bathroom. Splashing cold water on her face, she assessed her reflection in the mirror. Her mouth creased into a deliberate grimace. Her large green eyes, slightly bloodshot, stared out at her from a flushed face. Hands shaking, she pulled her long mess of blond hair into a ponytail and took a deep breath in an attempt to steady her racing pulse.

               Oh, Bri. Get ahold of yourself, she thought. The nightmare hadn’t visited her yet tonight, but she could feel the aching deep in her subconscious. It was only a matter of time. She snapped off the light reluctantly and made her way through the dimly lit room back to her bed.

               “Damn!” she bit out through gritted teeth, as she stubbed her toe on the large wooden trunk at the foot of her bed . . . again. She needed to move the damn thing into another room, but she just couldn’t bring herself to do it. It had been her mother’s chest and contained the few items she had to remember her by. Inside were several photographs of her parents, a hand-knitted blanket, her mother’s favorite scarf, and a few trinkets she’d been able to collect before she was taken from the house.

               Flopping on her back, Bri pushed down the thoughts of her long-dead parents and touched lightly on the nightmare. She tried to think of it as a dream. It had less power that way, but it still frightened her to the core. As a reporter, she’d seen and heard countless horrific and terrifying stories, her scientific mind picking them apart and examining details until the puzzle made sense. The work usually didn’t get to her, but this did. It felt personal. Bone-chilling. Terrifying. It made her want to scream until she lost her mind.

               The nightmare had started a few weeks ago, and she was sick of it. For just one night she wanted peace, to rest without dreaming, to wake refreshed and unafraid. She knew that this meant allowing the dream to come without fighting it. And tonight she would do that—but on her terms.

               A week earlier, Bri had started diligently researching lucid dreaming—the ability to be consciously aware during a dream. She figured it was the only way she could get to the bottom of what the nightmare was trying to tell her. There was no doubt left in her mind that there was a reason this had started.

               According to her research, she needed an object to focus on while she was in the dream, and she’d chosen an old coin that had been in her mother’s things. The image of small horse on one side and what looked like a deity on the other were smooth and worn. Grabbing the object from her nightstand, she laid back, her fluffy pillow not nearly as comforting as it usually was. The coin was cool in the palm of her hand, and her fist curled tightly around it. The uneven metal edges bit into flesh. Closing her eyes, she tried to deepen her shallow breathing. Her heartbeat quickened with apprehension.

               The nightmare rushed in with frightening clarity, and she was helpless against it. Paralyzed. Flashes of light filled her mind and senses. Pain ripped through every fiber of her being. She could hear her own scream, high-pitched, blood curdling, and only in her mind. She couldn’t breathe through the panic rising in the back of her throat. She tried to swallow through the constriction and nearly choked. Losing her concentration, Bri was swept into the nightmarish world of overwhelming pain and insidious fear.

About the Author I love romance, magic, and the poetry of words. Even as a child I wanted to be a writer. When I was eleven, a friend and I wrote a little book of short stories about mermaids that we illustrated ourselves. It was quite a thriller, as you might imagine. When I was a teenager I loved to read poetry and fantasize about being a writer, but I had no idea what to write. In college I finally took a creative writing class and embarked on my first romance story…somehow it turned into a murder mystery which freaked me out a little and I put writing on hold for about ten years. But that little voice in the back of my mind wouldn’t let me forget my dream of writing, although at the time it felt more like a nagging urge.

Starting my first novel was rough going. It took a while to wrangle myself into a writing schedule and build enough confidence to trust the story and my characters, but when I hit my stride it was a thing of beauty. As words poured onto the page it seemed that other aspects of my life settled, as if I’d been waiting for this energetic outlet all along. Embarking on this strange journey of writing has led me into other worlds and on wild adventures. It took many editors, professional and several conversations with friends and family, and a particularly memorable bit of coaxing from a dear friend, before I felt ready to share my stories. And here I am! I hope you enjoy reading them as much as I’ve loved writing them.

Out now from the Sunray Press: http://www.janemorrissey.com/circle-of-dreams-out-now/

Author links, webpages, fan pages, and book trailers.

Website: www.janemorrissey.com

Blog: http://www.janemorrissey.com/blog/

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Book trailer: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ttA024rO9eY