09 November 2018

Elena Kincaid Talks About her New Release!

Hello Elena!  Thank you so much for visiting Written Butterfly with me today!  It’s such a pleasure to chat with you.  So tell me…

Thanks for having me. J

Q) How did you dream up the dynamics of your characters?

A) The Beast In A Suit is loosely based on Beauty and The Beast, so I wanted to keep that element of the two of them butting heads at first, yet being intrigued by one another. And I am a sucker for that slow burn that eventually turns into an explosion kind of relationship.

Q) Is this book part of a series?  If so, can you tell us about it?

A) Yes, this is the first book in a brand new series. All the books will feature loose retellings of classic fairy tales and will be in an office setting.

Q) Can you give a fun or interesting fact about your book?

A) There may or may not be a bike incident which may or may not be loosely, mostly based on possibly my own experience. J

Q) Do you plan all your characters out before you start a story or do they develop as you write?

A) Both actually. I plan out my characters, but they often surprise me throughout my stories. They kind of take on a life of their own.

Q) Do you want each book to stand on its own, or are you trying to build a body of work with connections between each book?

A) Each series I write has a world of its own and don’t really connect to my other worlds I create, although my series, Arctic Ice, will be connected to another series called Dragonfire.

Q) What are your upcoming projects? 

A) I am currently in the middle of writing book 6 in the Beyond The Veil series I co-write with Maia Dylan and Sarah Marsh and I have a couple of outline WIPS I want to dive into. Figuring out the order is the tough part since they are all screaming at me. Book 3 in my Pack Warriors series, and a few book twos, including the next one in this series.

Thanks so much for hosting The Beast In A Suit (A Contemporary Tale). This story is an office romance with a modern twist on a classic tale and the first in a brand new series. The rest of the series will take on a different fairy tale and continue with the office romance theme.

She’s no damsel. He’s no prince. Can their love still be strength enough to save them both?

Twenty years later, and the hole inside Emeline’s soul only got bigger, mourning the loss of her mother and brother and what could have been. A stranger comes along with changes to a career she loves, but will it be for the better and will he end up changing her, too?

Adam has been closed off to the world for nearly two decades, existing but not living. He doesn’t even realize the shell of a man he’s become until a woman he’s slowly falling for makes him examine his own reflection.

A modern twist on a classic tale filled with desire, passion, and one dangerous obsession. 

Buy Links

“You’re firing me?”
“Of course not,” he replied adamantly, finally turning to face her. “I meant what I said before. You’re very valuable to this company and you’ve more than proven it. I also meant it when I told you that you would do great on your own. I don’t want you to leave.” He took her hand in his. “I want nothing more than for you stay, but I don’t want to hold you hostage. That was unfair of me. Please, forgive me.”
The truth was, she had forgotten about his threat. With the way he turned the company around along with giving her his friendship, not to mention the fact that she was in love with him, she was happy there again. She hadn’t thought about quitting or about going out on her own. The fact that he remembered and was apologizing for it and even willing to let her go without any repercussions stunned her. She had already forgiven him a while ago.
She watched a sly smile form on his lips, a devilish gleam in his eye. “No one should have to work for an asshole.”
“Good thing I no longer think of you as an asshole.” She glanced down at their joined hands. “I would like to stay.”
“You would?” He sounded surprised, hopeful even, and the look on his face confirmed it when she raised her head.
“And what about you, Adam?” she asked. “Do you intend to stay?” She knew it was a premature question, given the fact that it would be some time before he could present a tempting sale, but she felt like she needed to know if he even considered the possibility of actually keeping the company and running it himself.
He reached out and toyed with a strand of her hair. “I’d gotten so used to working with soulless corporations, people who wouldn’t hesitate to stab each other in the back. I guess you can say I’m pleasantly surprised. Publishing Enchanted is more than a company. It’s a family.”
“You’re part of it now.”
“And I don’t think I want to give that up.” He let go of her hair and brushed his knuckles down her cheek. “I have too many reasons to stay.”
They were so close now, their faces mere inches apart. Emeline couldn’t even remember how they had gotten there, but now she only wanted to be closer. “Adam,” she whispered, right before he closed the final distance between them and kissed her.
His kiss was soft, tentative at first, as if gauging her reaction, but when she wrapped her arms around him, he deepened it, moaning into her mouth as their tongues finally met and entwined. Finally, she got her wish and fisted her hand in his thick locks. His hair was soft, just as she’d imagined. Even his beard was soft against her skin. And God, he was such a great kisser, exploring her mouth thoroughly, lips and tongues feverishly connecting.
It was her turn to moan when he pulled her onto his lap and his hands began to roam down her back, her arms, and skimming down the sides of her breasts. He stopped kissing her lips long enough to move down to her jaw, her neck, and then all the way down to that deep V in the center of her cleavage, eliciting another, much louder, moan from her.
She was so lost in him, she hadn’t even realized at first that they were no longer moving, had no idea when they had stopped. Adam took notice of it, too, and paused his attentions to her. They were both panting as they stared at one another, and this time it was Emeline who leaned in and kissed him. She whispered, “Stay,” against his lips, the ache inside her for him too great to be able to part with him.
He practically growled in response and the two of them poured months of longing into their next kiss.
“I’m going to devour every single inch of you,” he said.
Yes, please! 


Elena Kincaid is an award-winning and Amazon best-selling author. She writes Paranormal and Contemporary Romances with alpha males who stop at nothing to protect their women, heroines who are anything but damsels in distress, and stories where the only love worth fighting for is the forever kind of love.
She was born in Ukraine and raised in New York, where she currently lives with her daughter. Her desk is constantly cluttered with journals, sticky notes, and torn-out pieces of paper full of ideas. When not working, Elena loves to spend time with her family, travel the globe, curl up with a good book, and catch up on her shows.

Stalk Her in the All the Right Places...

07 November 2018

Q & A with Ronnie F. Strong!

Hello Ronnie!  Thank you so much for visiting Written Butterfly with me today!  It’s such a pleasure to chat with you.  So tell me…

Q) How did you dream up the dynamics of your characters?

My protagonist character in The Laundromat was based on a chance remark of a person I was chatting with online. She said in passing that she had visited her local laundromat and there was a man there whose eyes boggled. Our interactions and her brief description of him led to the germ of an idea for an entire story. The characters and their roles required for the telling of this story followed from this basic premise. I used people in my life to visualize the physical appearance of the main characters. I gave them traits and values to guide their actions. I then let their personalities grow in the context of the situations I am putting them into. To some extent this means letting go and having the characters deal with the situation and their own responses.

Q) Is this book part of a series?  If so, can you tell us about it?

I always intended The Laundromat to be part of a series, but I have not yet been able to revisit that place. I will one day. I have moved onto other books and stories since. My most recent work is Dolphin Heat Tamed.

Q) Can you give a fun or interesting fact about your book?

Dolphin Heat Tamed is an experiment. It started as a short story inspired by a holiday of mine at a beautiful spot on the Australian coast in northern New South Wales. Seeing dolphins and whales in their natural environments is awesome. They are such magnificent creatures. My first story extrapolated from that experience and a subsequent dream. My first story was popular but could not be distributed via Amazon or some other key outlets for content reasons. It breached their standards around allowable sexual conduct.

Because I like the story I decided to rework it for a wider audience. I have also combined it with some of the related haiku that I have been playing with for the last few years. The result is a kind of hybrid illustrated book featuring the revised story in prose and haiku. I like where it landed although it makes it a little unusual in the genre.

Q) What do you think is your strongest asset as a writer? …what is your weakest factor as a writer?

I try to write about serious literary themes while staying true to the erotica genre. My stories feature a lot of sex. Lots and lots of sex. Readers either love this about my writing or it puts them off entirely.

Q) Do you try more to be original or to deliver to readers what they want?

I write what I like to write and hope that my readers will enjoy it.

Q) Do you plan all your characters out before you start a story or do they develop as you write?

I tend to prepare a basic outline for my story with a beginning a middle and an end. I think about the narrative structure. My stories are basically all about a journey. Usually the hero has lost love and is going to find love again with a few hurdles along the way. I start with the main character. The other characters are going to either create those hurdles or help her deal with them.     

Q) What are your upcoming projects?

My next project is undecided. I have too many ideas at the moment to know which one will proceed. One idea is to create a collection of short stories based on common sexual fantasies. Each scenario would have a story written from both the man and woman’s perspective, highlighting the differences and similarities in emphasis. Another idea is another short story collection focused on the wants and experiences of women with different stories to tell. Having said that, I am itching to write another novel.


Dolphin Heat Tamed


A tourist boat is heading out on a river cruise to see dolphins. There are only two women aboard and this is no ordinary tourist jaunt. A young woman is the captain for this trip. Her beautiful passenger's presence sends her thoughts and body into sexual overdrive. A curtain of thick heat and excitement envelopes the boat and the women travelling the river. 

Each turn of the journey challenges the young woman's self-control. Ignoring conventional sensibilities, she follows the tantalising woman's shameless lead. The women's excitement escalates as they get closer to their destination. What happens when they arrive challenges usual boundaries. All the young woman can do is succumb to this wild exotic erotic experience.


After that start to my morning, I allowed myself a languid breakfast, not rushing. After a long shower I got into my most fetching white cotton bra and panties. I was in that kind of mood and I looked dead-set sexy. I would have preferred skimpy black lace, but that was not practical for today’s sweltering heat. Then I got into the skimpiest pure-white shorts and singlet top that I could get away with as my father and mother’s employee.

Within minutes of beginning walking, I was sweating from the unusually high humidity. For a Saturday morning, there were few people around as I made my way to the jetty.

Those who were out and about in the relative cool of the twenty-eight-degree morning wanted to get things done before the heat of the day kicked in. Most people were avoiding venturing out. They remained inside, hiding from the heat in their air-conditioned apartments, homes and shops.

There was no one waiting at our boathouse office when I got there. My father would have taken out a few keen anglers at dawn. They would be back soon, complaining the fish were not biting.

It would not worry me if we had hardly any customers for our boat cruises today. Whale and dolphin watching had given us good business over recent years. Our seven boats were heavily booked most days. A slow day or two would not be cause for panic. Maybe my parents could relax a bit and avoid the heat too.

As I opened the office a stunning woman appeared on the promenade. She slowed, waiting for me to make my way inside. I could only take in a little of her appearance as I fussed with the locks. What I could see of her had me flustered and fumbling. She cooed to me in a melodic gentle voice. “Don’t rush honey; I can wait until you are ready for business.”

Something about the way she said that, with a hint of playful impishness, got me extra hot and bothered. Her clothing was much like mine, her mature and lovely body more graceful and full. Quite the bombshell, her body was not conventional pin-up.

She looked like a woman-shaped torpedo with her powerful sleek curves. Her legs were long and strong, bulging with muscle. Her neck was long too, not thick, yet somehow the torpedo impression remained with me. I kept glancing at her as I switched on lights, checked the radio, and did the other daily opening routines.

She wore no cosmetics or jewellery and her feet were bare. Her singlet top highlighted her full round breasts under the thin straps across the bodice. Her skin was glistening golden, not brown or white. Micro shorts showed off her tight butt and powerful legs. Her muscular thighs were larger than for most women. They complemented her statuesque body.

Short dripping-wet black hair framed her angular, almost squarish face. She did not need makeup. Her full lips and cheeks, grey-green eyes, black hair and perfect skin were stunning enough. What made her one of the most beautiful women I had ever seen was her nose. How it set off her face. It was largish, blunt and round, with flaring nostrils. Something else too, other than the mischievous glint in her eye had me entranced.

The way she held herself and shone with a glowing intensity was enthralling. I could not take my eyes away and tried to take in everything about her, helped by her skimpy clothes. The suggestion of a small circle low on her throat took my eye. It looked to me like she may have had a tracheotomy at some point. Could she have choked on something as a child, or had some kind of accident? I pondered this blemish upon her otherwise outward perfection, completely besotted. I forced myself to stop staring at her.

Uncomfortable prickling sensations were breaking out all over my body. Being in her company had me shrinking back to a nervous, gawky and insecure teenager. I thought I had shed all that awkward self-consciousness. Now all my self-doubts were back again.

I got past her somehow and went behind the desk, using it as a shield from her overwhelming impact upon my senses. She waited for me to collect myself then spoke, cooing like before.

“Could you please take me up the river to see the dolphins? I can pay whatever you need to charge for a special trip on one of your boats.” Her voice was gentle and vibrant; the sound and energy of her voice touching me right to my core…


Free offer

Sign up for my monthly newsletter at ronniestrong.com and get a free copy of The Laundromat from Smashwords

05 November 2018

Q & A with Aletta Thorne!

Hello Aletta!  Thank you so much for visiting Written Butterfly with me today!  It’s such a pleasure to chat with you.  So tell me…

Q) How did you dream up the dynamics of your characters?

This book was very much a labor of love.  I wanted to write a romance with characters in their sixties—and ghosts.  This generation of what a good friend calls Junior Seniors are baby boomers, most of us old hippies.  We’re too old to care about being respectable anymore.  Also: my main characters are church employees. As someone who has worked for churches herself, I can tell you that such people are among the funniest, most open-minded, and (yes!) cynical folks you’ll meet. 

Q) Is this book part of a series?  If so, can you tell us about it?

Not exactly. The Ghost of Her Ex is part of the ghost stories I write as Aletta Thorne.  The next one will be another ghost story.  My books always have ghosts, and they are always funny. By the way, I think this book is much funnier than The Chef and the Ghost of Bartholomew Addison Jenkins, my first ghost romance.

Q) Can you give a fun or interesting fact about your book?

My main character plays the pipe organ and is a serious classical musician.  I’m not.  I sing in a choir and struggle to sight read.  I had to learn the basics of how to register (set up stops for different sounds) a pipe organ to write this thing.  I was constantly reading the musical parts back to my organist husband to make sure I got them right.

 Q) What do you think is your strongest asset as a writer? 

I’m funny.  I keep hearing that.  I like to make people laugh, and I like being able to switch from a sad scene or an emotional or sexy one to a really funny one.

 …what is your weakest factor as a writer?  

I worry about being wordy.  Fortunately, I have great editing at Evernight Publishing and The Ghost of Her Ex is pretty darn slick.  A fast read.

 Q) Do you try more to be original or to deliver to readers what they want? 

I can’t read minds.  I think the books that are the most successful are original.  There never was Hogwarts before Harry Potter, after all.

 Q) Do you plan all your characters out before you start a story or do they develop as you write? 

They grow as I write them.  Emily Rauch, the main character in The Ghost of Her Ex,  matures and heals throughout the book.  And the other main character--whom I won’t name because it would actually be kind of a spoiler—he develops depth and courage. 

 Q) Do you want each book to stand on its own, or are you trying to build a body of work with connections between each book?

They are stand-alones.  Although Aletta Thorne ghosts are…well, kind of wacky.

 Q) What are your upcoming projects?

I write poetry and young adult fiction under another name, and I’m busy with working on projects in those spheres right now.  I have in the back of my head a ghost romance about the people who actually do ghost investigations.  A really guilty pleasure of mine is watching the ghost hunter shows on TV.  I think I could apply my Topper-on-acid technique to a story like that with good effect!


Just because she’s sixty-three, cynical, and a church musician, Emily Rauch is hardly done with life—or love. Now that she’s traded in her old barn of a place for a tiny house in the hills, Emily’s ready for a new start. Throw in one enormous pipe organ, two ghosts, a pot dealer named Santa Claus, the reappearance of Emily’s bad-boy college squeeze, and a blizzard...what could possibly go wrong?

Author Bio: 

Aletta Thorne believes in ghosts.  When she’s not making up ghost stories for grownups, she is a choral singer, a poet, and a DJ.  But she’s happiest in front of a glowing screen, giving voice to whatever it was that got her two cats all riled up at three AM.  Her house is quite seriously haunted—even scared the ghost investigator who came to check it out!   After all, she lives just across the Hudson River from Sleepy Hollow. Aletta Thorne is also the author of The Chef and the Ghost of Bartholomew Addison Jenkins.

Buy links:


No! You’re not old, Mrs. R! You look like you always did!”

Oh, great. So I’ve always looked like this? Without thinking about it, Emily ran her practice-weary fingers through her hair and shook her head to fluff it out a bit. “So—what’s a membership cost these days?”

She’d just finished signing the paperwork and was stowing her reading glasses in her purse when the door to the locker rooms opened. There, red-faced from steam, sauna, and a shower, wearing a black motorcycle jacket and a pair of jeans that he certainly hadn’t distressed that much himself, was none other than Brad Yates, gym bag in hand. The sparse remains of his Harpo-mop hung in wet, limp ringlets over his eyebrows.

Oh, fuck! Oh, fuckity fuck fuck fuck.

Emily!” He slid his locker-key-on-a-rubber-band at Clara and leaned against the booth’s oak woodwork. “It’s been far too long! I kept trying to call!”

Clara’s eyebrows shot up.

Hi, Brad,” said Emily.

I saw that piece about your new place in The Record. Looks wonderful!” His wolfish blue eyes sparkled.

Oh, fabulous. “Um, yeah…” Emily fumbled in her purse for her wallet and slid her credit card back into it.

Mrs. Hartley, do you want to have a look at the facility? I mean, I should have asked you that before, but I’m just learning this job, I guess, and…”

My daughter learned to swim in this pool, Clara. I know what I’m getting into. I do understand there’s a lovely new hot tub…”

There sure is!” That was Brad.

I’ve been practicing all afternoon, though, and my back’s killing me. Right now, I have to get home. I’ll be back soon with my swimsuit!” Emily was careful not to say just how soon.

Allow me to walk you out,” said Brad.

And then he was beside her, smelling quite chlorine-y indeed, pink and steaming in the winter air. Emily’s car was parked a block away, up a street lined with big old houses.

I remember your senior recital. Mendelssohn’s Sonata One! You rocked it! Played with some real guts.” Brad marched along next to her, gym bag slung over his shoulder.

Mendelssohn Sonata One. Emily mainly remembered terror. Had it gone well? Everyone had said so…

There’s an AGO recital down at St. Thomas Fifth Avenue in about a month. Come downtown with me,” said Brad. “C’mon, we haven’t been at an organ thing together since school. It’ll be a hoot. We can…”

An organ thing. Not even going there.

They were standing in front of her car now.

Oh, Emily, you truly haven’t changed! You still look so lovely. What luck running into you again!” Brad flung his arms open.

Why the fuck do people keep telling me I haven’t changed? Oh, great. Now he wants a hug. Bet that mean old leather jacket’d be mighty dangerous with all those big, ferocious zippers! I’m certainly not giving Brad Yates a…

But then she looked up at her old boyfriend—and was instantly caught in the patented Yates death ray. His eyes, still an icy blue, a little curious, focused intently on hers—and a major wave of not-entirely-unexpected heat washed through her. Well. Maybe just a quick little hug. I’ll avoid the zippers.

Oh, Em,” he rumbled, and she felt his breath on her face. He put his arms around her and pulled her close—and suddenly, maddeningly, that was just fine with her. Her breath quickened and she closed her eyes. Then he was kissing her. His tongue was soft and familiar in her mouth and she was kissing him back. His hand slid down to catch the small of her back. He massaged it with strong, keyboard-player fingers, exactly where it had been hurting, and that felt—amazing. More than amazing. It pushed the ache away … and started a different, sharper ache.

Actually, it’s … kind of like the sex dreams.

That made Emily pull away, shocked that her crotch was burning. Brad Yates? What am I thinking? I’m not thinking, that’s what I’m thinking. This is ridiculous…

Does this mean you’re going to the organ recital with me? Or should we just go back to my place?” The street lamp above them picked out a little hollow at the side of his nose where something or other had been removed. The moto jacket did nothing to disguise the fact that he was a little paunchy (now that she thought about it, he’d always been just a little round in the tummy, even in his prime boating days). His face was still flushed from the steam room—but his eyes were laser-focused on her, which made her whole body feel kind of … carbonated. It just wasn’t fair.

Cripes. What’s wrong with me? Oh hell. Why not? “How about my place?” Emily hoped she didn’t sound as breathless as she felt. “Let’s go there.”