Today's featured book, Slipstream, is a super steamy sci-fi story with a lot going on between the pages. You can learn more about this book through the intriguing excerpt ahead as well as my in-depth interview with Skhye Montcrief. So keep reading and give a big welcome to Skhye......
TSP: Knowing what you do now about the publishing business, would you have done anything different career-wise?
SM: No. You either jump in or don’t. J The publishing industry is all about getting wet. *snort*
TSP: What does your writing space look like and do you surround yourself with any particularly inspirational items?
SM: This year, my family is in ex-pat mode in Western Australia. I live in a furnished home and can’t decorate by hanging pictures and was only allowed to bring a very small personal air shipment. So, I write on a sofa in front of a few walls of glass windows. The Indian Ocean is quite blue, especially when the little white sailboats bob along past my window...The only problem with the picture is these big Australian crows that always sound like they’re dying. I swear they know when I’m trying to concentrate. They always arrive to share their last thoughts. See for yourself: Australian Crows
TSP: The majority of your books feature other worlds or otherworldly creatures, what draws you to those themes?
SM: I’ve always been fascinated by the unknown. Here’s an example…I don’t believe in Bigfoot but have to watch FINDING BIGFOOT on the National Geographic Channel. Why? I’ve taken 80 hours of anthropology and KNOW I don’t believe in Bigfoot. But I always tune in when I see an episode while channel surfing. Even the reruns. And I’m always at the theater when a new show featuring extraterrestrials is released. Maybe I’m curious? I do prefer to write about other worlds simply because I can create them my way. I don’t have to worry about Earth’s cultural rules--although having a human POV character really limits the game. I do prefer to write myth my way. I’m tired of the same old werewolf story. I just place the bad boys on other worlds/spacecraft and allow the myth to mutate. So, I suppose taking things off world allows me the room my subconscious needs to play.
TSP: Beyond its synopsis, what do you want us to know about Slipstream?
SM: It’s romantica. There is a plot. There are two romances. My erotic romance grows into the sex scenes. Well, this story it happens to save the heroine. If you want sci-fi with your heroine landing two hot soldiers, you might enjoy Slipstream. The reviewer who posted a review at Amazon said”: “The one-liners had me laughing out loud.”
TSP: Which of your books would you like to see made into a movie and who would play the main couple?
SM: You know, my brain never goes there. Seriously. But I’ll choose COUGAR. Jackal is my all-time favorite. And I can’t remember who I pictured in my mind for him. I always slap a face on the POV characters. But that was so long ago! I bet you get all sorts of really good answers for this question!!! LOL I modeled Jackal’s character off the crazy American soldier in REIGN OF FIRE for his eyes. That’s all I can tell you about Jackal’s creation. I really liked Mathew McConnaughey’s ability to show emotion in his eyes. I tried really hard to do that with Jackal. But I can’t tell you if that’s who I modeled Jackal after…We’re talking a bunch of stories and years since he was written. Now, for the heroine…I don’t know. *crawls under the linoleum*
TSP: Of all the heroes you've written, who's the most heroic in your opinion?
SM: I choose Borun in FERAL FEVER. I love how he takes charge and gets the job done. Even when he’s competing with 6 other consorts that the heroine is awarded. You gotta love a guy who doesn’t get jealous. But we’re talking about another planet and royal males who know they will share a mate if they are fortunate enough to ever be selected. And then there’s that whole facet of the situation where he’s the least desirable of the males. Well, to females of his species.
TSP: How has the digital revolution affected your career and how you market yourself? Do you have an e-Reader yourself?
SM: I have owned 4 e-readers. I still have 2. I also have a large Samsung tablet I prefer to read on…I thought I’d never like e-books. Now, I rarely buy a paper book. I remember sitting in Borders (a while back since they croaked), writing for two hours, chuckling about how I didn’t even LOOK through the shelves there after completely switching to electron collecting.
The digital revolution has greatly affected how I publish. An author is fortunate if able to sell a book for $2.99. How many publishers sell $2.99 novels? I can’t think of one unless it’s an advertised special price. So, small authors can’t compete. We have to go Indie or give up. That’s how the digital revolution changed my writing career. I had quite a few books published with small publishers and still do. So, I’ve been through the editing grinder and know I write solid plots with solid romantic growth. I don’t feel intimidated by Indie publishing. However, marketing is intimidating. When you’ve spent years learning the business, including the craft of writing, you have to sit back and wonder if you make enough money to invest in any of the publishing steps leading to a new release. Banging those pennies together is the ugly part of a writer’s reality. So, I used to do all the marketing myself. I can’t anymore. I have chronic health problems and simply can’t do the marketing and write in one day. So, I found this blog tour site… ;P
TSP: My site's all about favorite things, so what are your favorite things/the things you can't live without?
SM: This is an interesting question since I moved overseas for 18-months with the bare minimum of possessions. My favorite things tend to be plastic toys that keep my daughter busy! Shame on you for thinking sex toys! LOL When I packed to move, I grabbed a handful of DVDs, my e-readers, my tablet, and my small netbook for writing. That’s what I brought besides clothes, shoes, purses, and watercolors. I’m not a big painter but thought the big tackle box full of stuff would be nice to have when my daughter wants to learn more about painting. I also brought a lot of educational books for her—the big issue of fitting them into the small air shipment. We just said we’d buy what we needed here. I haven’t missed my stuff. Just my two cats. But they’re with Grandma. So, our necessary possessions look like things for the child…
Congratulations, Dr. Charlotte Barley! You won a one-way ticket to Diablo's Shithole!
Yes, Dr. Barley, you saved earth from humanity's extinction brought on by overpopulation, discovered wormholes, and gave humanity a new lease on life. But, you're being hunted by someone using a wormhole device you can't fathom, plagued by a type of sleepwalking that involves reliving your alien sexual experiences gleaned from wormhole journeys, and, yes, we see that you can't deal with your murdered bodyguards--mercenary Space Marines forced to anchor your body to a bed at night by acting out the sex memories haunting your REM cycle. Get over it already because there's nowhere left to hide except Diablo's Shithole...And the shit is about to hit Diablo's fan more than you could ever imagine...Because, deep down inside, you know you're into all that kinky sex.
So, who will the next victim be? Is tall, long, and corded astrophysicist Major Fitzroy capable of dancing with death to save your ass, or are you willing to sacrifice hotter-than-sin muscle-bound explosives fanatic Corporal Laurel? Just don't let their nuts rub together. And you know your alien-infested sexual dreams are a huge turn on for you. Just face the music, honey. Can your bodyguards fulfill the sexual fantasy of the king of all alien kings and his troop of humping brothers until the truth is exposed to save your ass?
So, Dr. Barley, you slut, ready for another slide down a slippery wormhole to Diablo's Shithole? It looks like a lot of fun. And more than those feet are going to get wet in the SLIPSTREAM.
Laurel continued to study his cards.
Like he tried to avoid showing any emotion about what he held in his hand. Certainly his hand was better than my useless unrelated two, five, nine, jack, and king. Absolutely utterly useless. What can I do with these pathetic cards? It's just time to head back to work. Or something equally conducive to saving my neck. More so because Laurel's enormous don't-fuck-with-me form is certainly giving me ideas. Maybe it's the fact he's wearing just a black tank top stretched to the damned max with dark hairs curling over the hem near his heart? Maybe it's the fascinating linear vein on his bulging bicep that keeps drawing my attention? Or, rather, it's the suggestive items he's using for chips on the table…
Laurel's gaze slid up to monitor the central pile of pre-packaged instant coffee, chocolate mints, Space Marine beer vouchers, and one long somewhat-flat golden rectangular heat-sealed wrapper.
As if he could read my mind about his body, leading to…What he'd tossed onto the pot. Some things were outright necessities like instant coffee and blood. You just never know when you'll find yourself shit out of luck, especially serving a joy of a sentence on an uninhabited forested rock in the middle of nowhere deep space like me now, without coffee. But Laurel was preoccupied with an item that was outright useless on Diablo's Shithole. An Omega Tickler condom. Black Cherry Fire.
The table's bleeding.
Not good. My favorite flavor on one heck of a scary-looking black rubber to the uninitiated. Toss in the big heat factor that's just enough to keep a man and woman warm when shifting positions…With all the damned ticklers on the tip and rubbery spikes protruding along the shaft. Talk about subtle unavoidable friction that will feel like pure ecstasy when riding a fully-engorged cock. One monster cock owned by the Corps' prized beast across the table.
My heart swan-dived to the lowest pit of my core and left me feeling like magma oozed between my legs.
His gaze snapped up to anchor upon mine.
As if he's toying with me by dangling a carrot, or he can sense my reaction to his poker chip. Rather his poker! Either way, Laurel wasn't the type to play games. His type dives for the jugular with the Cherry-Fire-Tickler option. Cold. Ruthless. Who in her right mind would say no to that?
Right mind. Right mind. I should have one. But I haven't slept in two days. Let me see if I can find some right mind around here. I slid my gaze across the boring tabletop to Fitzroy.
The major leaned on an elbow planted atop the metal table.
Shooting me an indefinable expression.
Why? Does he know I've been contemplating sex with that condom? One that is advertised by the twenty-first century's horrible marketing tactic geared toward safe sex with Space service: keep your cool on the dark side when popping cherries. On the other hand, if Fitzroy is in the mood for cherries, I don't mind. But he hasn't said a thing about sex. Nor has he bothered to hint he's willing. No, he's no Laurel with a coy yet blatant slap-it-on-the-table attitude.
Like throw me down and use that condom on me. Someone.
A chill fingered along my arms.
Just enough to cause the fireworks of an epiphany--at the moment the point that either big marine could throw me down. I won't mind. It's not like I'm going to live long enough to fret over the bad reputation certainly nurtured from my needs. Needs demanding big muscled man between my thighs.
"I'm sick of waiting," Fitzroy said.
Breaking my train of ridiculous thought with an equally ridiculous one. He's sick of waiting?
"Can anyone beat a full house?" Fitzroy placed his fan of cards on the table with great care like they were highly explosive.
Seriously, toss a grenade into the pot too. I could use a quick blast out of this madness. Maybe I'd land on a big cock? Speared. God. I hope I'm not groaning like a desperate prisoner resigned to the fact anything I want beyond roaches and rat for dinner is wishful thinking. But that's reality in a nutshell.
Laurel and Denton sighed and tossed their cards face down.
Like they skewered a rat on a spit for my pleasure. I hate a subconscious that does nothing but make me horny. I dropped my horrible hand.
Fitzroy sighed a contented sound and reached for the loot.
Separating the chocolates by pushing them my direction. I guess I shouldn't be a sore loser. Although, sore and losing could be quite an interesting combination in the light of the right perspective. What I'd really appreciate is both in conjunction with being abused by that prized condom. But Fitzroy tucked it inside the breast pocket of his camouflage shirt before shooting me what had to be a behave look. All the while that golden package stuck out of the top of his pocket like a freaking trophy.
How can you behave when your panties are so wet you're getting a chill? And he's seriously not planning on deploying the Cherry Fire.
I'm so the anti-thesis of being screwed. Literally.
Link to 1st Chapter: http://blog.skhyemoncrief.
BUY LINKS: Kindle | Nook
MY IMPRESSIONS OF THIS BOOK:
Skhye Moncrief has created a rip roaring, action-packed, sci-fi story with a surprisingly erotic twist in this first book in the Cyber Ops series. With a storyline that starts out slow and confusing things quickly become clearer as the nefarious plans of an alien society become known to a small band of humans who are the only ones capable of stopping the end of humanity.
Charlotte was put through a traumatic experience at the hands of a newly discovered alien race that she's just now remembering. Courtesy of a strong and sexy pair of Space Marines she's kept grounded in this world but lost in memories that allow for numerous hot and heavy sexual interludes. Charlotte's a strong-willed woman not afraid to vocalize what she wants and what she wants are the two very different men sworn to protect her. Fitzroy thinks before he leaps and is desperate to find out the truth about what happened to Charlotte. Laurel is more of the one who acts first and deals with the consequences later. He too wants to protect Charlotte and will put his life on the line to do so, along with Fitzroy and another unexpected ally who might actually turn out to be a traitor.
While the first three-fourths of the book revolve around sex, it's the last fourth in which the real action picks up. An all-out firefight with heartpounding action ends in an unexpected sacrifice that changes the course of the story and leaves a door open to future stories.
Ms. Moncrief has created a memorable story with intriguing elements. While I felt very lost at the start of the story, I finally felt I gained an understanding of the storyline towards the very end. I enjoy erotic stories but felt the reasoning for these scenes at the start of the story was a bit over the top, though the scenes were immensely steamy and satisfying. Though I didn't love this story I was certainly entertained and applaud Ms. Moncrief's creativity and am intrigued by what she'll come up with next.
My rating for this is a C+
*I received this book from the author in exchange for my honest opinion.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR:
Educated in geology and anthropology, writing lured Skhye away from finishing her thesis in (bio-archaeology) anthropology. Aside from muscled men in fur, leather, denim, and kilts, Skhye loves cultural ecology, cultural evolution, cultural relativism, and natural processes…Big ideas…Simple concepts that manifest in world building to crazy people like Skhye who studied anthropology and geologyad nauseum before turning to writing romantic fiction. Her rule of thumb is to love the good, the bad, and the ugly of every culture in her tales so that every culture in her tales and every aspect of her stories resonates as real as possible. And yes, she's "certifiably" geek.http://skhyemoncrief.com
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