Man, I do love C.P. She’s an Etopian and she’s mysterious as her name. But maybe by the end of this she’ll spill some beans for us on whether or not she’s a plotter, or a pantser. Then I can put her in the gallery. Of course that post was complicated by a certain Mz Black claiming she was a pantilesser.
Mz Black has books coming out next years, I’m sure she’ll drop by and let us know exactly what that is. This being a decent blog and you all being decent folks, I’m sure, like me you have no idea. So C.P. well, she’s here today all the way from Seattle. I beamed her over specially. Being mysterious she looks like this…
Oh, what do you mean you can’t see her? Do stop complaining. I scoured the net for that. Here she is……..She has a giveaway too, valid till Aug 2nd. What’s more it seems J.K, the famous J.K, isn’t the only one who writes in cafes.
The Perils of Writing in Public by C.P Foster
I can’t write at home. Too many distractions. Too much temptation to goof off. So I get out of the house to Get Stuff Done. But no matter where you go, there are drawbacks.
The quiet room is almost completely silent, a great spot where there are no distractions, and it has free wifi, comfy chairs, and plenty of outlets. Unfortunately, they air condition it to the point of refrigeration, so I have to take a coat unless I want to freeze. If you spill your soda (ahem), everyone in the room knows it, and you have to do the walk of shame to get paper towels and clean it up. But the main thing is you have to remember to turn the sound off on your computer. I was in there the other day when some guy’s computer started making gasping sounds like a woman having an orgasm. He left really fast.
Starbucks also has comfy chairs, free wifi, and outlets. As a bonus, it’s right next to a fitness supplement store, so there is a steady parade of hard-bodies going by. Excellent inspiration. For the price of a latte I can hang out for hours. The ambient noise isn’t too bad, unless I manage to sit under the speakers and can’t block the music out of my head. Singing along is an unfortunate temptation. And there’s the occasional person that talks loud enough to be heard a block away, breaking through the white noise and derailing my train of thought.
My biggest problems writing in public, though, is I have to be careful not to talk to myself out loud. Or wave my hands around (because it helps me think, I swear). More than once I’ve been staring off into space only to realize I’m staring right at some poor person and freaking them out.
The benefits outweigh all the drawbacks, though. At the library I have access to research materials if something comes up, and since I’m there often I never forget to return library books. At Starbucks I’ve met some really cool people, including an artist working on a graphic novel. I can chat for a few seconds, then we leave each other alone to get work done. And every now and then I overhear some truly fascinating conversations. I’ve started taking notes for future reference, to help me create interesting characters.
All in all, it’s a lot better than trying to work from home.
Secret Studies (Arcaneology Book 2)
C. P. Foster
Urban Fantasy, Paranormal Romance
Warnings: Contains BDSM elements and dubious consent
With a million-dollar bounty on her head, Angie Clark has been hiding under the noses of her enemies for nearly a decade. But trying to prevent a war between humans and vampires has landed her in trouble—again. A vampire monarch bent on revenge has taken out a new contract on her, and Angie knows that if she’s caught, her enemies will torture her until she begs for death. Mired in violence and death, keeping her secrets becomes more important than ever. And as her life unravels bit by bit, she fears she’ll have to leave behind everyone and everything that matters to her and run.
But when Steffen Scott puts his life on the line in order to protect her, she can no longer deny her feelings for him. As the threat of war looms over humanity once again, it could mean the annihilation of both species, and Angie must decide whether to keep running or to turn and fight. And maybe find out what she and Steffen could become.
To celebrate the release of Secret Studies, book two in the Arcaneology series, C.P is hosting a give-away. Entering is simple:
1) come to her Facebook author home page (https://www.facebook.com/pages/Author-C-P-Foster-Aphrodites-Writer/287293758037990 )
2) hit like, if you haven’t already
3) leave a comment
On Monday the 2nd of September C.P. will put all of the names into a virtual hat and give away the prizes. What are the prizes? She’s glad you asked!
Prize #1: A digital copy (your choice of format) of both books in the Arcaneology Series (Dark Studies and Secret Studies).
Prizes #2 and #3: A digital copy of Secret Studies, plus a vial-of-blood necklace and a bookmark.
Prize #4, 5, and 6: A copy of Dark Studies, plus a blank-book journal and a bookmark.
You can find pictures of the prizes in her album. Go over and enter today.
Links for C. P. Foster:
Snippet: Now it’s hot ok!
She went to him, and let him draw her onto his lap. He angled her so her legs dangled to one side while her back rested against his broad chest. His skin felt cool, but not as cold as before.
“Did you intend to tease me by leaving that lovely throat bare?” he murmured into her ear.
“Don’t you like it?”
His growl vibrated over her. “I’ve thought of little else since the moment I arrived. May I taste you now?”
“Yes,” she whispered.
With a gentle touch, he took the single curl that tickled the side of her neck and tucked it behind her ear. Grace closed her eyes as he settled his mouth over her vein. His fangs extended, thin as those of a snake, and pricked the soft skin. She held her breath.
He curved one arm around her waist an instant before he struck. Pain flickered for only a second, then a lush wave of pleasure overtook her, and she moaned aloud. His arm tightened while his other hand stroked up to cover her breast. He squeezed. Found the stiffening nipple and pinched. Grace arched with desire as he caressed his way to her thighs and edged them apart. The suction of his drinking, the quiet sounds he made, the way his body grew warmer with each passing second, all of the sensations engulfed her.
He eased her skirt up and nudged her panties aside so he could graze his fingertips over her moist lower lips. She tensed from head to toe as he traced a slick path to her bud and began to stroke. Her racing heart pumped blood into his mouth. Pleasure built, and when she came, he sucked harder to drink in her ecstasy.
C. P. Foster is a writer of urban fantasy, romance, and erotica. She lives in the Pacific Northwest with her husband, Cuddles the caliby kitten, and a cat named Tom that is no longer actually a tom. She doubt he appreciates the irony.