Today's post is for 18 and older only!
Today I have a guest post by a friend, and fellow RWA member, Cassandra Carr!!!
How to connect with your favorite writer
by Cassandra Carr
I'm often asked - "How can I talk to an author directly to tell them I love their book/I want another book in this series/I wish there had been more sex scenes?" Well, maybe not the last part, since my books are pretty hot, but you catch my drift. Here's what I tell readers:
Website. All authors should have a website. And on that website should be an area called "Contact" or "Contact Me". At the very least, an author should have an e-mail address on there, and we love to hear from readers! There might also be links to other places you can find them, like...
Facebook. Facebook is an invaluable tool for writers. Each writer should have a fan page, and possibly a profile in addition to that. Here's my advice about Facebook - "like" the fan page and don't worry about the profile. Why? Because Facebook limits the number of "friends" any one person can have. Dumb, but true. So most authors, if they become popular, have to close their profile to new people because Facebook won't let them be friends with more.
Twitter. Twitter is another invaluable resource for us writers. It's also a great place to see the every day behind-the-scenes workings of a writer. Writing is a solitary profession, so many writers "check in" through Twitter a few times a day just so we can talk to someone other than our cats. Yes, some of us are crazy cat ladies.
Goodreads. Many authors are on Goodreads. Some like it more than others. Some blog there, some don't. But if you want to see what books your favorite author is reading, possibly engage in a Q&A with them, etc, Goodreads is a good (heh) place to be.
Chats. Authors engage in chats on review sites, other authors' blogs, Facebook, and Yahoo groups. Oftentimes you can have a conversation one-on-one - or as one-on-one as you can get during a chat - with the author. Another perk? There are usually prizes!
Those are some of the most popular and prevalent ways to connect with your favorite authors. Where else do you find authors?
Cassandra Carr is a multi-published erotic romance writer who lives in Western New York with her husband, Inspiration, and her daughter, Too Cute for Words. When not writing she enjoys watching hockey and hanging out on Twitter. Her debut novel, Talk to Me, was released by Loose Id on March 22, 2011. Head Games, Buffalo Intimidators book 1, released on November 2, 2011 from Siren Bookstrand, Caught released December 6, 2011 from Loose Id, and Impact is coming in early 2012 from Ellora's Cave. For more information about Cassandra, check out her website at http://www. booksbycassandracarr.com, "like" her Facebook fan page athttp://www.facebook.com/ AuthorCassandraCarr or follow her on Twitter at http://www.twitter.com/ Cassandra_Carr.
Cassandra's newest release, Caught, is the perfect read for the holiday season!
Read a sample:
'They’re really taking this politically correct thing too far.'
Stepping from the foyer into the living room, Callie spied a twinkling Christmas tree in the corner. On the mantel, a lit menorah burned, the candles flickering as the people nearby jostled for position as more and more guests crammed into the room. This was a boisterous crowd; already drinking like it was New Year’s. Advancing further into the room, she noticed the Kwanza decorations and rolled her eyes.
'Pick a holiday and go with it, people. You can’t please everyone.'
She sought out the host and hostess, old friends from her grad school days, and said hello, handing over the obligatory “Thanks for inviting me” bottle of wine. They chatted for a bit to catch up before she grabbed a cocktail and made her way toward the dining room in search of other former classmates and some food. The smells of the various delicacies wafted by, making her mouth water in anticipation. She had just gotten into town and was starving. Plopping a slice of Cheddar cheese onto a cracker, she stuffed it into her mouth and then looked up -- and everything inside her came to a screeching halt.
Jack was there.
With a beer hanging from his long, rough fingers, he leaned against the wall, casual as can be, while her world tilted on its axis. He looked so good-- still the same tall, well-muscled body, still the same olive skin, black hair, and full lips. His Italian ancestry lent him an air of exoticness, and she’d always been a sucker for that.
Her stomach roiled. The cracker caught in her throat, choking her. As she began to cough and sputter, he turned to see what the commotion was, and their gazes met. Callie watched as his eyes went dark with heat and recognition. A blush rushed up her chest through her neck and into her face. With suddenly cold fingers, she touched her burning skin.
He brought his beer to his lips and took a long pull, his tongue sneaking out to catch a stray drop from his top lip. Her gaze followed the movement. His own intense gaze never left her face. Even when his companion said something to him, he merely nodded and kept the whole of his attention on her. She took a fortifying sip of her vodka and cranberry juice, then another, longer gulp, trying to dislodge the cracker from her throat. And still he stared.
And she did the same damn thing she’d done three years ago when she’d gotten scared by his demands, his power -- she ran. Cursing herself for her cowardice, she nonetheless wove her way through the crowd, setting her drink down on the nearest available surface as she rushed past. But before she made it to the front door, she felt his hand, still chilled from holding the beer bottle, curl around her overheated arm. “Long time no see. Leaving so soon, Callie?”
He pulled her around to face him, he backed her up against the wall in the foyer. With him this close, with his touch and his smell and his sheer size surrounding her, her body betrayed her, just like it always had where he was concerned. Her nipples tightened, her pussy ached, and her breath quickened. “What are you doing here?” She sighed at her own stupidity for asking something so obvious.
“These are my friends. A better question to ask is -- what are you doing here?”
“I came back to town for the holidays, and I wanted to see some of my old grad school buddies. I guess I-I didn’t think about the possibility of you being here.”
“Is me being here a problem?”
“No,” she answered too quickly.
“I miss you.”
“I miss you too.”
'Dammit! What else am I going to admit to him?'
“I still want you. I want to touch you. I need to touch you. May I?” At her silent nod, he lightly rested his hand around her throat. Not hard enough to choke, but enough to establish his dominance over her.
'Like he needs to establish that. How could I possibly forget who and what he is?'
Callie shivered. God, she wanted him. She’d never been as scared or as excited or felt as alive as she had during the year and a half she had subbed for Jack. Seeing him again made her want to get down on her knees and give him anything he wanted. If she remembered correctly, that was everything. But could he give it back to her? Before, he’d been unable or unwilling to, and when she hadn’t been able to handle loving him without reciprocation anymore, she’d left.
Her lips were parched, and she darted her tongue out to wet them. His eyes turned black as they blazed back at her. “I want you too.” And it was the truth. She wanted him, and this time, she’d have him. If she ran away again, she knew she’d regret it for the rest of her life.
“Are you collared?”
She turned the question around. “Are you seeing anyone?” A strange look passed over his face, but Callie couldn’t interpret it before it was gone.
“No. Answer me, Callie -- are you seeing anyone?”
Letting out a soft growl, Jack cupped the back of her neck in his large hand and kissed her. There was nothing gentle in his kiss -- there never had been. This kiss was one of possession, of establishing even more control. He pressed in further, molding his body to hers while he continued to plunder her mouth. He didn’t force his tongue inside; he didn’t have to.