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Tuesday, May 19, 2009

Please Welcome Author...Ericka Scott!





Genre Bending

The upsurge of e-publishing has led to the evolution of fascinating genres. Readers are no longer required to read straight mystery, suspense, or horror. Head on out to the popular e-publishers and you can now find erotic horror, paranormal mystery, and romantic thrillers (not to be confused with romantic suspense) and vampires-in-love (or lust) living in worlds peopled by faeries, werewolves, and magicians. Throw in a few gods and goddesses along with some merfolk and other creatures of legend. A discerning reader can now have it all.

Never one to write inside the box, I write seductive suspense, my own special blend of eroticism, mystery and suspense. I’m celebrating my second year as a published writer and glad that my journey is just beginning.

This year has been one of accomplishments. I finished my first full-length novel and attended my first writer’s conference. I’ve also accumulated an enormous number of rejection letters from agents for my novel. After attending the conference, I’m sure I understand the reason. It doesn’t “fit” the conventions of a mystery, a romantic suspense, or a paranormal thriller. But as books evolve, so do genres, so I’m sure I’ll find a market for my novel about a psychic, a skeptic, and a serial killer.

To celebrate the e-book, I’m participating in Brenda Novak’s auction to benefit diabetes research -- http://www.brendanovak.com/auction . My donation is a Sony e-book reader loaded with ALL of my published e-books. So, if you have a chance, stop by and take a look, or place a bid.

Thank you so much for letting me come here today to expound on the joys of e-publishing. I’m going to leave you with an excerpt from Song of Seduction, a chilling little tale about sirens that will do more than sing your socks off! Enjoy!

SONG OF SEDUCTION
by Ericka Scott
Copyright 2009

“I’d like to charter your ship.”

“It’s a yacht,” Yoshiko Moto murmured under her breath, but she didn’t give her visitors any other indication that she’d heard them. She’d seen them coming up the pier. At first glance, they looked like typical tourists or cruisers looking to sail to Australia. However, they didn’t pause to study any of the flyers advertising the different packages offered by the various cruise vessels. Instead, they headed straight for her and The Orpheus.

She studied them out of the corner of her eye while she whisked the rag across the fiberglass, the smell of bleach drying out the inside of her nose. There were three men. The one in the lead was a small, older man in Bermuda shorts and an ill-fitting Hawaiian shirt patterned with purple and pink birds of paradise flowers. The second was a nerdy boy; a very tall boy with too-long dark hair and a dreamy expression in his eyes. He, too, wore a Hawaiian shirt, but his was decorated with large pink flamingoes.
The last man was oh-my-God gorgeous.

He was six feet tall, with a dark olive complexion and curly black hair. Unlike his companions, he was dressed in dark khaki slacks and a tight, pale blue polo shirt. His eyes were hidden behind black wraparound sunglasses. At the sight of his bulging biceps, her hormones did cartwheels, and a punch of desire hit her low in the belly. Oh, she’d like to take him for a ride in her boat, right here, right now. Forget his friends.

“Excuse me,” the old man said, raising his voice. “I need to talk to you about chartering your ship.”

“It’s a yacht. Ships are much bigger.” Despite her annoyance, her tone didn’t hold the venom she would have liked. In fact, if anything, her voice was breathless. Possibly a result of applying elbow grease in an effort to remove blood stains from the deck.
It was late in April, and she hadn’t been planning on chartering The Orpheus anytime soon because she’d just gotten back from a rather eventful trip involving a band of pirates. As a result, she planned to take a few days off to restock and recover.

“You’re our last hope,” the man insisted. “Please!”

The words were typical. All but the please. She glanced around. Sunshine gleamed off the hulls of a half-dozen other charter boats at the pier.

She motioned toward the nearest one. “There are other charter boats available.”

“Yes, but I was told you were the only one who had ever been there before,” the man who was obviously the leader of this little group insisted.

Despite the sunshine, she shivered.

There. No, he couldn’t be talking about the island. Only one other person knew about it—her ex-best friend Jenna. Six months ago, she would have sworn Jenna wouldn’t tell a soul. But a lot had changed since then.

“We were drinking at Rick’s last night, and a woman named Jenna gave us your name.” The man shielded his eyes from the sun. “She was intoxicated, but I sensed she was telling us the truth. Was she?”

Shit. To lie or not to lie? In the end, she opted for the truth. She stood up slowly, letting the kinks out of the muscles of her legs and back. “Yeah, she was telling you the truth. But did she tell you what you’d find there?”

“I know what I’m going to find. We’re from the School of Biology at Stanford University. I’m Dr. Trevor Strong, and these are my research assistants, Aaron and Nico.”

She recognized Dr. Strong’s name and felt as if her blood had suddenly turned into a cold current when she realized what he was there for. But she wouldn’t let on. She’d get more information by playing dumb. “Am I’m supposed to be impressed?”

Yoshiko put what she hoped was a dubious expression on her face. Of course, she was impressed. Just a few months ago, Dr. Strong had gone into some unexplored area of Russia and come out leading a unicorn. The result of his discovery had been a veritable swarm of researchers scouring the globe for mythical creatures. It was just a matter of time before someone turned their attention to all the tiny, unexplored islands in the Pacific Ocean.

“I don’t have to impress you. I just have to convince you to take us to Anthemoessa,” Dr. Strong said.

“Anthemo—where?” Yoshiko pulled a face. A small spring of hope bloomed only to be dashed when Aaron answered in a dull, academic voice.

“Anthemoessa is the mythical island where the three sirens settled after they were turned from handmaidens of the goddess Persephone into sirens by her mother, Demeter. In most historical works, they’re depicted as birds with the heads or upper bodies of woman. Sirens have voices—”

“Of angels and lure men to their deaths. Blah, blah, blah,” Yoshiko interrupted with a shrug. The historical works were right, but only up to a point. So these academic did know what they were looking for. But did it really matter? They were men, and they would end up like every other man who had come close to the island. Dead.


~~~~~~

Ericka Scott is a multi-published, bestselling author of seductive suspense. She's written stories for as long as she can remember and reads anything under the sun (including the back of cereal boxes in a pinch). She got hooked on romantic suspense in her college days, when reading anything but a textbook was a guilty pleasure. Now, when she’s not chauffeuring children around, wishing she had a maid, or lurking at the library, she’s spinning her own web of fantasy and penning tales of seduction and suspense. She currently lives in Southern California with her husband and three children. You can find out more about her at http://www.erickascott.com/.

3 Moonbeams (comments):

Sheila Deeth said...

Okay. That was definitely intriguing.

I think I'm becoming a reluctant convert to e-books. I like the possibilities of shorter stories, and the greater variety of things out there.

Gracen Miller said...

I meant to comment earlier, but it's been one of those days. *sigh*

This is why I love e-books. You get more bang for your buck and basically whatever you want is out there to read.

Thanks for blogging with us Ericka! I will definitely have to check out some of your books. Love the sound of Song of Seduction!

Margay Leah Justice said...

Ericka, wonderful to have you on our blog! And I like the idea of genre-bending. Staying inside the box can become boring.
Margay