March 27, 2015

7 Things About My Writing Life - A Different Friday Flames

Thank you to my Facebook friend Yvonne Nicolas, I’ve been challenged to share seven things about my writing.

*Cue blank look* What could I possibly say about my writing that anyone would be interested in?

Whewhere we go…

1.       I write in bursts that vary anywhere from one word to one hour. Why? Because I don’t have an office (yet) where I can close the door and shut out the world.

My concentration is constantly interrupted by the voices of my spawn calling, “Hey, Mom?”, my husband (who, by the way, has HIS own office) yelling, “Babe, will you look at this before it goes out?”, or a variety of neighing, baaing, and barking animals.

2.       Most of my writing is completed while standing. And it’s not because I don’t have a chair.

Sitting is for sissies. Standing is for studs (or stud-ettes). And if you believe that, I have lakeside property for sale in drought stricken California.  

Truth is, my back and bum hurt if I sit longer than fifteen or twenty minutes. The panche of youth has come back to haunt me. *sigh*

3.   While the first book I wrote ~ Remedy Maker ~ had a complete 30,000 word outline, the second book ~ Troll-y Yours ~ I wrote shooting from the hip.

And what did that teach me? Apparently nothing, because I wrote the next two stories using a combination of both methods. Now that I understand myself and the writing methods that work best for me, a complete outline is my modus operandi.

4.     (Am I really only on #4??)  Many of my book characters are based on real people. (Yes, that means YOU!)

Don’t worry, I’ll change your name and appearance so even your mother won’t recognize you. Once upon a time, I sold skin care products for a multi-level marketing company. (This has nothing to do with the aforementioned appearance change! Stop it!!) During that time, I stared looked at everyone’s face to evaluate their skin and makeup needs. Now you’re all fodder for my books. You’re characters plotting to take over the world! Buahahaha!!! Or… maybe you’re stuck in a pitch dark room, crying for mommy. But if you’re really nice to me, well, I’ll just leave it at that.

5    Robotic vacuum cleaners RULE!

Why did I mention this as part of my writing life? Mainly because I don’t have time to mess with that crap when there’s a story clogging my brain. Even as I type right now, my little friend has happily sucked up the spoils of our living room war and is zooming to redock her little self. One thing I’ve learned in my writer’s life: outsource that which others can do.

6.       I find exercise is important – especially when I’m sedentary all day.

 My brain fires on all two pistons much better after a quick thirty-minute walk. Moving away from the white space and into the world clears my mental hard drive and opens the spongy file to receive. When I’m writing a particularly tough scene, one that is emotionally driven, I’ll head out the door with my little dog. If a walk in the fresh air doesn’t help, and it’s too early to start drinking, I’ll search YouTube for an appropriate punishment in Yoga.

(NOT me)
  [a likeness of me]

7.      Most of my writing is typed on the laptop.

 Before the laptop, I used one of my kids’ computers. If those were both in use, I’d use my husband’s desktop model in his office. I tried to write freehand once, but my mind moved faster than I could pen it out and I ended up frustrated, finger cramped, and needing a drink.

  So there you have it, Sheri Fredricks in a nutshell. And while that remark alone should generate a few hardy-har comments in itself, it is the REAL me.

  Thank you for stopping by! If you have a moment, let me now a few tidbits of your writing habits.

   Love, Sheri

March 6, 2015

Where a Cowboy is Proud - on Friday Flames

My very good friend D'Ann Lindun has another GREAT western romance hitting the shelves. This time her book comes in the form of an anthology with five other western writers.

Can I get a Yee-Haw??

Cowboy Proud
from Cowboy Up 2

Tagline:  She left town to chase her dreams... He stayed and ignored his... Can they find their dreams together? 

Blurb: All Madeline Harper ever wanted was to escape the tight fences of Black Mountain, Colorado. Nothing would stop her from pursuing her goals--not a devoted boyfriend or infant son. Leaving everything behind, she landed her dream job as a Western Girl jeans model. Her sister’s wedding is the only thing that can entice her home. What she learns upon her return shakes her to the core…and changes everything.

For the last five years Shan Ellis’ life has consisted of taking care of his son and being a cowhand on his parents’ ranch. He scarified everything to be a single dad. College. A career. Girls.  Now, the one woman he can’t forget is back in town. Can he take a chance, and risk his heart, or steer clear and never know what might have been?

His lips covered hers in a way that left no doubt to his intentions—he was going to make her his tonight. She opened under his forceful assault and his tongue plundered her mouth. He tasted like cinnamon or peppermint. She didn’t know which, or care. All that mattered was the way his lips and tongue tortured hers until she couldn’t think straight.
When he tested the weight of her breasts in his palms, her nipples peaked and pressed against her satin bra. To give him access to them, she slid back until her back was against the door. He covered her body with his bigger one, feet on the floor, stuck under the steering wheel.
She moaned into his mouth.
He responded by releasing her lips. “Damn. How the hell did we ever fit in here?”
 “We didn’t.” She giggled. “But we didn’t care back then.”
“I seem to remember this a different way.” His voice was low, husky and so full of need it sent shock waves straight between her legs. Before she could react, he flipped their positions. He sat in the seat with her straddling him. Reaching alongside the seat with his right hand, he moved the seat back far as it would go.
 “That’s a little better. Now there’s just one more problem.”
 “You have on too many clothes.” He reached for the buttons on her blouse. In seconds he’d bared her breasts. Taking one in his mouth, he pulled deep. Madeline arched into the sensation of his lips and tongue caressing her nipple.
She wrapped her hands around the back of his neck and held him in place as he sucked. With his free hand, he covered her other breast, squeezing the nipple between his first and second fingers.
Her stomach clenched and she thrust her pelvis toward his.
 “That works better without clothes,” he said against her breast.
Together, they worked her jeans from her hips and legs.
 “How did we ever do this?” she muttered, kicking off her boots.
 “I don’t know. Getting naked used to seemed easier.” Shan wiggled out of his own jeans, shorts and boots.
He reclaimed her mouth, his hands covering both breasts. Using his thumbs, he flicked her nipples until they stood at attention. She arched again, her head thrown back. Her fingers dug into his shoulders.
No one had ever made her feel like Shan.
More than the way his mouth on her breasts, his hands on her skin, it was the way his soul touched hers that felt so right.
She whimpered and pressed her lips to his. He opened his mouth and darted his tongue inside. Their tongues twisted together in a mating ritual old as time. Familiar as yesterday.
She spread her legs, the hair on his thighs tickling hers. She slid forward, rocking her pelvis against his erect cock.
He moaned into her mouth.
She lifted her hips and he slid his hand between them, cupping her feminine mound. His thumb circled her clit until she gasped.
Reaching down, she clasped his cock. For a moment, she held him, teasing. Hard to believe such soft skin could be so hard underneath. She ran a tentative stroke along the underside, to his balls and back to the tip. A shudder ripped through his entire body.
She wrapped her fist around him and stroked.
With each slow, steady tug he seemed to grow larger. Harder.
He slid one, then two fingers inside her, sliding his thumb over her clit. He spread his fingers wide. “You’re so wet.”
She nipped his jaw. “Oh, God, Shan.”
 “Feel good?” he said in her ear. “I can make it better.”
His sexy words caused her wet walls to clench around his fingers. He tipped his fingers forward and pushed deep.
With a muffled cry against his neck, she came, riding wave after wave. Finally the tremors subsided.
Brushing her hair back, he kissed her deep.
The pointed tips of her nipples brushed the hair on his chest, the feeling one of the most erotic things she’d ever experienced. When his work roughened fingers brushed over the extended points, an aftershock hit her.
 “You have protection?” she managed to gasp.

Buy: Amazon

Falling in love with romance novels the summer before sixth grade, D’Ann Lindun never thought about writing one until many years later when she took a how-to class at her local college. She was hooked! She began writing and never looked back. Romance appeals to her because there's just something so satisfying about writing a book guaranteed to have a happy ending. D’Ann’s particular favorites usually feature cowboys and the women who love them. This is probably because she draws inspiration from the area where she lives, Western Colorado, her husband of twenty-nine years and their daughter. Composites of their small farm, herd of horses, five Australian shepherds, a Queensland heeler, two ducks and cats of every shape and color often show up in her stories!
D’Ann loves to hear from readers! Please contact her at :

March 2, 2015

Electric Heat by Stacey Brutger

Electric Heat - A Raven Investigations Novel (Book 3)
Stacey Brutger
Buy link - Amazon:

If you enjoy Urban Fantasy, be sure to check out the next book in my Raven Investigation Series.

It's dark. It's gritty. A totally addicting adventure you won't want to miss!

Ancient magic has been unleashed into the world. It’s willing to do anything to survive, even if it means war. Only one woman can kill it…or set it free. 

The local witches’ coven offers Raven a trade: Surrender herself to them for one week or give up a member of her pack. She thought they wanted to study her, but Raven discovers something far worse—murder. To save her pack, Raven must make the ultimate sacrifice…her freedom.

Witches are being drained of power and killed using a wild magic that’s been dormant for centuries. Tasked with locating the one responsible for releasing it, Raven soon finds herself the prey rather than the hunter. The more lives the magic claims, the stronger the killer becomes. As she and her pack scramble to unravel the secrets of the coven, her own beast starts to wake, and she’s not sure which is more dangerous…the killer or her beast. But one thing is sure, if the coven and pack don’t learn to work together, none of them will survive the coming storm.

“I’m going as well.” Durant emerged from his office, a duffle bag dangling from his hand.


“Absolutely not.”

Raven and the witch spoke at the same time, both in agreement for once.

“Unless you have someone willing to feed the vampire, and who can also protect her during the day, then you’re stuck with me.”

The witch’s face twisted in distaste, and she planted her hands on her hips. Her voodoo-style peasant shirt and multicolored skirt should’ve made her look plain, but instead enhanced her striking coloring and bone structure.

Raven spoke before the witch could say anything. “You detest Rylan. Why offer to feed him?”

Her heart fluttered in panic, and a nasty suspicion that he knew she wasn’t going to be returning twisted through Raven. He couldn’t be allowed to go with them. He would try to stop them. The creature was already too interested in him for Raven’s peace of mind. Not to mention what would happen when he discovered the truth, that she really was a monster. She couldn’t bear to have his affection turn cold. The cut would go too deep, a mortal wound that would forever fester. “No, he can feed off of me.”

But Rylan was already shaking his head. “No, not you.”

The creature at her core gave a huff of agreement, sinking her claws into Raven’s chest for carelessly offering what was theirs. Though Raven wanted to protest, she knew Rylan was right. It was too dangerous for both of them. Her blood would only bind them tighter together…like a noose.

The vampire already craved her blood. She couldn’t risk deepening his addiction, or he might not go through with the plan to eliminate her, not if he would lose his supply as a result.

 Raven scrambled to come up with an excuse, and latched on the first thing that popped into her mind. “No shifter is safe in a coven. Not too long ago, they used shifters as familiars. Not only could they harm you, they could use you against me.”

She was desperate, grasping at straws, but didn’t care. It would destroy her to lose him to the witches.

Durant shook his head, a cocky smile curling his lips in a way that didn’t bode well. “I’m too strong an alpha. They’d never gain access to me, not while you still stand.”

Raven snorted at his overblown ego. “You can’t—”

“I’m immune to their magic.”

That stopped her tirade short. Even the witch stood straighter. It was a ploy. It had to be. Raven narrowed her eyes and called his bluff. “What do you mean?”

Durant dropped the bag, then slowly pulled his shirt over his head. The awesome sight of his chest distracted her. Smooth muscles beckoned her closer. A light dusting of hair low on his stomach beckoned her to investigate lower.


The word whispered in her mind, a craving so deep she even took a step forward to do as bidden. She fiddled with the gloves, wanting to rip off the leather so nothing separated them.

Then Durant turned.

Shimmering gold symbols dotted along his spine in a script she couldn’t decipher. “What are those?”

“A spell.” The witch spoke almost absently. “A very painful ward that must first be carved into flesh, then molten gold is poured into the bleeding wounds. The pain is excruciating. Most people don’t survive the magic, let alone the agony inflicted as the heated metal solidifies.”

Raven didn’t like the admiration in the witch’s tone or the appreciative way she eyed Durant. Her creature liked it even less. She struggled to think of another excuse, but Durant turned and stepped into her space.

Distracting her on purpose.

And damned if he wasn’t getting a little too good at ferreting out her weaknesses and using them against her.

“Take him with you or not, but I will remind you if you’re not able to fulfill your side of the agreement, my approval is rescinded, and your little dog, Taggert, is mine.” The witch turned her spooky eyes on Durant. “If you go beastly without a leash around your throat, you will be put down.”

Raven straightened, her muscles strung tight as she spun to face the witch. Durant adroitly stepped between them, his back to the main witch, effectively cutting off what would no doubt have been rash words. It didn’t matter. The creature uncurled in her body, its wrath gathering, determined to eliminate the threat to the pack.

Durant caught her hand and placed it over his chest, grunting when the kick of power slid into him. His eyes immediately went gold. Instead of retreating, she could have sworn his tiger purred under her palm.

She brushed her fingers over the warm muscles, the touch calming both of them.

You need me to ensure the pack remains safe.

Raven jerked at hearing his voice in her head, then answered in kind. Such arrogance.

You need me.

They’ll treat you as less than an animal.

It was Durant’s turn to shrug. You need me.

For him, it was that simple. There was a hard glint in his eyes that warned her if she refused him, she wouldn’t like the alternative.

Goodreads Book Giveaway

Electric Heat by Stacey Brutger

Electric Heat

by Stacey Brutger

Giveaway ends April 02, 2015.
See the giveaway details at Goodreads.
Enter to win