Hello – I’m Diane Saxon and I’m so thrilled to join Silken Sheets and Seduction. I’ve read the ladies posts for a long time now, and even guest blogged here.
I thought I’d introduce myself and let you know a little about me and my books.
I never really had any inclination to be an author until a few years ago. I never even attempted to write. I’ve always read prolifically and I absolutely love romance and thrillers. I’ve read so many genres, but I find I prefer my romances.
The first real book I wrote was Loving Lydia, although I have to confess I’d made a pitiful outline sketch of another story beforehand and abandoned it. Thoughts had been mulling in my head for quite some time. I’d even written a half page scene, for no particular reason but I felt I needed to get it out of my head.
Then I had a foot operation and wasn’t allowed to walk for two weeks. The cowboy arrived in my head. I kid you not. I thought I was writing Lydia’s story, but the cowboy elbowed his way in and basically wrote the story. It poured from my fingers onto the keyboard, and ‘we’ were finished in that two weeks.
It took me the rest of the year before I got up the gumption to send it off. And it was accepted, after an R&R. I was so delighted, I wrote the next two books in the series in quick succession with the aid of a certain cowboy.
I also learnt that I love to romance the genres and I have one sci-fi, and two shape shifters published.
I’ve just signed my tenth publishing contract for a romantic suspense which is a follow on from Flynn’s Kiss, my Disarmed & Dangerous Series.
Right now, I’m doing something totally new, with a witch, but I swear when I write, although I’m English, I definitely have a cowboy in my head.
Excerpt – Loving Lydia
When Rosie had told them about her mother’s tattoo, there was no way in hell that any description could have done justice to it. He’d never seen such immaculate artwork in all his life. Curving around the base of her left armpit, the black, rambling rosebush and entwined ivy flowed over the top of her breast to end in the flourish of a small, white rosebud tipped up toward her throat. The breast itself was unendowed, but the artwork streamed underneath to lovingly cup the whole of her breast.
His breath eased in and out of his chest as his eyes traced the ever-widening tattoo down the left side of her body, rosebush and ivy intertwining with the occasional white rose punctuating the art. The plant grew wider as it spread under her navel and across her belly, one rose vine with its white bud stretched out to almost touch her right hip, another flicked up to finish with a flourish underneath her navel.
His hands traced the pattern on her cool flesh. He noted with surprise her goose bumps as he ran his warm fingers over the vines and circled around the rose buds. He placed his hand on her hips to adjust her body so that he could look at her back. His eyes traced down to where her entire left buttock was covered with rose vine and ivy and a palm-size, full-blown red rose right in the middle of her buttock.
Reaching forward, he placed his lips right in the center of the rose and closed his eyes in prayer as he pressed a kiss to her cool flesh. He heard her soft intake of breath and leaned back to finish his inspection. The rose finished at the base of her buttock, but the ivy twined twice around the top of her thigh before it tailed off in a final, wispy, unfurling leaf.
He leaned back on his heels and let his eyes wander back up again. He couldn’t help it if his eyes strayed off course to look at her beautiful breasts with their rosy little nipples standing to attention. As he watched, she quivered and he raised his eyes to meet her own sultry green ones.
He saw the change in them, the color deepened with awareness. No longer stoically determined but aroused. Unable to help himself, he kneeled back up again, wrapped his arms around her waist, and forced her to step closer as he buried his face in the soft skin of her belly. Holding on, he breathed short, jerky breaths and wondered if his heart was going to survive this.
“Lydia, sweetheart,” his mouth mumbled against her skin. “I’m going to have to touch you, baby.”