Danica St. Como, 23 May 2013, Blog Tour
Why Do I Write?
It seems that a recurring question pops up in conversation lately: What makes writers write? What pushes them? What motivates them? Why do they do it?
There are a plethora of reasons that might prompt a person to write. With this in mind, I carefully considered my own reasons.
First and foremost, I write because characters, plots, and stories pinball around in my brain, invade my dreams, pop out at the most inopportune times -- therefore, they must be written to assuage the spirits, calm the muse.
Second, I love to share my visions with others, in the hope that my stories help get them through the day (or night). Escapism? You damn betcha! Guilty as charged.
Third, I love waiting for my book covers to appear, like magic, in my inbox. It's like having the bestest ever Christmas, every time that happens.
The last reason is a bit more materialistic. While fame and fortune are fantastic goals for which to strive, I'd be happy with a nice enough income to hire a housekeeper. Not a live-in housekeeper -- nothing so dramatic -- just a nice, dependable gal (or guy, I'm not sexist) who knows how to put a house in some semblance of order, who doesn't mind the dogs, and who is tough enough to wrastle killer dust bunnies and win the match. That's not too much to ask, is it? No, I didn't think so.
So, remember my housekeeper fund, and prepare to be titillated!
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Blade Dance
By: Danica St. Como | Other
books by Danica St. Como
Published By: Decadent Publishing Company, LLC ISBN # 9781613334867
Word Count: 21000
Heat Index
Available in: Epub, HTML, Microsoft
Reader, Adobe Acrobat, Mobipocket (.prc)
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About
the book
Pissed off, crabby, and contemplating getting
a guard dog, Wallis Gardner is goddamned tired of being laid up with a gunshot
wound while her men—blond, blue-eyed Austin Cooper and dark-haired, grizzly
bear Michael Gallo—finish the job they’d all been working on with the Bureau of
Criminal Investigations.
An anonymous tip sends her partners on a futile chase, leaving Wallis to deal with the massive cast on her leg and the creepy new tenant in the small cottage at the edge of her property. When Austin and Michael return, the welcome home party leaves them all exhausted but satisfied before a call comes in with yet another missing girl.
Unprotected, Wallis finds herself dancing at the end of a killer’s blade. But with life and love on the line, this is one dance she intends to lead.
An anonymous tip sends her partners on a futile chase, leaving Wallis to deal with the massive cast on her leg and the creepy new tenant in the small cottage at the edge of her property. When Austin and Michael return, the welcome home party leaves them all exhausted but satisfied before a call comes in with yet another missing girl.
Unprotected, Wallis finds herself dancing at the end of a killer’s blade. But with life and love on the line, this is one dance she intends to lead.
An
excerpt from the book
Wallis didn’t need to
wait too long before the meds began to work. She pulled herself up, propped
against a mound of pillows, her casted leg resting in relative comfort.
She sighed a
happy sigh as she gazed lazily at both men. “Oh, wow. That would be so freakin’
hot.”
Michael gave her a
quirky look. “I’m not following. What would be so hot?”
“The two of you, making
out.”
He rose from the
chaise. “You’re kidding, right? Do either of us act gay?”
The meds were really
kicking in, so Wallis grinned. “No, not gay, you homophobic sonofabitch. Two
guys, enjoying each other. Think about it. I certainly take pleasure in what
you do to me, right? And you enjoy doing things to me. Why not to each other?”
Austin returned from
the bathroom, where he’d dumped the washcloths and towels. “Okay, I heard the
tail end of the conversation. From the sound of things, I should probably know
the beginning, as well.”
“I was merely
suggesting that maybe my cowboy and my growly Gallo-bear would enjoy having a
serious make-out session with each other.”
That stopped Austin,
cold. “I beg your pardon?” He glanced at Michael, who shrugged.
“Don’t look at me. It
sure as shit wasn’t my idea, buddy. You talk to her. Or, better yet, talk to
the meds. I think she’s gone cuckoo for Cocoa-Puffs.”
“Wallis, have you lost
your grip? I think Michael is right. You need to lay off the pain pills.”
“Not at all, I’m
feelin’ better by the minute. I’m just saying. I totally get off on everything
you guys do to me, right? Right. So, what’s to stop you from getting off with
each other? I have sex loads of times with one of you while the other watches,
right? Why can’t I watch the two of you? It only seems fair.”
The men looked at each
other in disbelief at the direction the discussion was taking.
Austin found his voice
first. “You’re serious, aren’t you?”
She nodded. “Oh, yeah.
The more I think about the two of you gettin’ it on, the hotter I get.”
Austin shook his head.
“I think the meds are definitely doing a number on her brain.”
Michael continued to
stare at her as if she’d gone totally ‘round the freakin’ pipe, which made her
giggle.
“And what would you be
doing during this masculine frolic, dare I ask?”
She slowly spread her
thighs, rested her cast on a pillow, and covered her freshly shaved mound with
her hand. She pulled her blushing labia apart with two fingers, exposing her
still-sensitive clitoris.
“I guess I’d be
obliged to amuse myself.”
Danica St. Como Author Bio:
A Jersey girl
born and bred, for the past nine years Danica St. Como has written at her farm
in central upstate New York, surrounded by any number of Whippets—both under
desk and underfoot—as well as a malevolent treadmill that stares at her from
across the room. She puts her pen to paper, in a manner of speaking, under
several romance sub-genres: contemporary, MFM
and MMF ménage a trois, MM
pairings, erotic historical, paranormal -- all hot, all steamy, and all
sexually explicit.
St. Como is a
member of the Romance Writers of America and the Central New York Romance
Writers chapter of the RWA. Readers can contact her at Danica@DanicaStComo.com.
Danica St. Como Author Links:
http://www.DanicaStComo.com
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