D. F. Krieger

Wednesday, August 24, 2016

Coming In Hot Tour: Chanta Rand

Hello Readers,
We're continuing our hot trail of authors who are sharing their secrets and stories with us. Speaking of stories, there’s a box set releasing in September you all might be interested in. And of course I kidnapped—ahem—I mean coerced (okay, that probably doesn’t sound better) a fellow author in the set to tell us their secrets.
Hey CHANTA RAND tell us your secrets! Which one of you did I manage to trap this time, and what sexy succulence did you stick in Coming In Hot?

Y’know, a secret isn’t a secret once you tell someone, but I guess I can share with you guys. The sexy succulent I’m contributing is an erotic interracial novella called Love Down Under. It’s about a workaholic airline executive who goes to Australia and falls for an arrogant, hunky Australian doctor.

Was there anywhere naughty your characters did the thing? Was it based off anything you wanted to try? Or are you a sweet lil vanilla?
I’m definitely nasty. My husband and I made love on a ship on the Nile River, as well in the middle of the Caribbean Ocean, on a crowded beach in Honduras. Sometimes, I think my characters are living vicariously through me! In every one of my books, my characters do nasty stuff in the oddest places. I’m talking elevators, barns, bathrooms, helicopters, and construction trailers. I think it’s my obsession with seeing how much nastiness I can get away with before I get caught. In Love Down Under my hero and heroine actually do it in a bedroom—which is boring, compared to my other salacious venues. But immediately after, the hero’s extended family bursts through the bedroom door to find out who the hell is making all those loud noises. It turns out to be the both the heroine and hero, who’ve rocked each other’s worlds!

If you had unlimited access to blank you would do blank.
If I had unlimited access to MEDICATION I would give it to all the people suffering across the world who needed it. I think everyone should have access to live-saving medicine.

What is the weirdest experience that ever happened to you?
Oh, Lord. My life is full of weird encounters. Many of them NOT PG-rated. I once attended a play written by a male author. I didn’t really care for the guys’ work, but my best friend dragged me along. It was her birthday, so I indulged her. Afterward, I got a chance to meet the author. I told him how much I hated some of the elements in his work. After I was done ranting, he told me he liked my style and he asked me out to dinner! I declined. Now, he’s a best-selling author.

Tell us a secret about yourself. Shhhh, we promise not to share. Right, Readers?
Damn, y’all love secrets. Some of this stuff I’m taking to the grave with me, but I can share this one. Years ago I had a boyfriend. One morning, I called his home phone. This was back in the days before cell phones –yes, I’m old! Another woman answered the phone. She told me she was his girlfriend! Aw, hell no. We got to talking and I went to his house to meet her. She and I realized he’d been two-timing both of us! We trashed all of his stuff: clothes, apartment furniture, guitar, you name it, we destroyed it. Hey, I was young—ok, I was 30—so sue me. That cheater came home in the middle of our female wrecking crew. Needless to say, he was shocked and scared. I think she ended up taking him back and marrying him. I wrote a book, where I almost killed him off, but in the end, I let him live and be humiliated. Never piss an author off.

What is the most childish pastime indulgence you have?
Um, excuse you, collecting comic books and action figures is NOT childish. My indulgence started when I was a child and never stopped. I am a serious comic book collector. So serious I have my own comic book room at my house. See attached pics! I collect comics featuring kick-azz heroines, characters of color, and apocalyptic comics. I have about a thousand comics. I would have had more, but when I was twelve, we moved, and my mom threw out my comic collection to make room in the moving truck. Arghhh! I coulda been a contender! At any rate, my most valuable comic is The Walking Dead #1 (yes, I’m a zombie fan). It originally sold for $3.99 in 2003. Now, my copy is worth almost $1,000. Yeah, baby! Being a nerd pays.

Do you ever consider writing a different genre? Or do you have a pen name you’d be willing to share that writes a different genre?
As a matter of fact, I’m making a leap from erotica to Sci-fi action/adventure next year. My character is going to be like a female James Bond. Think Angelina Jolie’s Salt character, but set in the future, with a different love interest for each book. Her weapons are her sharp tongue, biting wit, superior intelligence, and of course, her catatonic laser gun. I’m so excited to be starting that series.  

Okay, Readers, I better return this author back to the wild before the authorities catch on. CHANTA, before you go, you have to pay the toll. Give the readers an excerpt! 

Nicola watched Dr. Connors’ movements as he worked. He should be named Dr. Grumpy. The man had the worst bedside manner she’d ever seen. No doubt due to his time spent tending to animals, instead of humans. His accent wasn’t as thick as McSeever’s, but the moment he opened his mouth, she knew he was an Aussie. Her eyes grazed over his long fingers as he wound up a ball of gauze. With his shirtsleeves rolled up, she could see the fine blonde hairs that dusted his golden, tanned skin. The muscles in his forearms flexed. His broad back stretched powerfully against his blue shirt. A loose pair of dungarees caressed the firm lines of his ass. Despite his gruff attitude, the doc was hot!
Her body responded to his maleness. Her nipples strained against her thin, white t-shirt. She quickly crossed her arms over her chest, but she moved too fast, jabbing her right hand with too much force. A sharp pain shot through her wrist, reminding her of the injury.
She bit her lip to keep from crying out. Instead, she channeled her pain into anger. “I can’t stay here,” she told him. “Not with all these…these dangerous animals.”
“Seems to me like you’re the dangerous one. You nearly got yourself and that koala killed.”
“How did you know about that?”
“McSeever told me. Plus I saw your chest. I know the mark of koala claws when I see ‘em.”
She didn’t want to think about him examining her chest. She wondered if he’d seen her see-through, lacy bra. “This makes no sense. I’m going to call a taxi. Or perhaps the hotel shuttle can come and get me.” His sardonic laugh only fueled her annoyance. She pulled her cell phone from her backpack and attempted to dial the number to her hotel. The No Service indicator flashed at the top of her screen.
“I demand you call a taxi for me right now. I will not stay here!”
He turned to face her. When he stalked toward her and stopped within one foot of her nose, her heart slammed against her ribcage. She stared into a pair of sinfully beautiful eyes. Were they aqua? Turquoise? She couldn’t pinpoint the color. She only knew they were doing a damned good job of melting her panties. The lashes that framed his eyes were full and lush, bordered by dark blonde eyebrows that reminded her of the wheat fields where she grew up in The Plains area of Texas. They had just the right amount of sculpt. Not too manscaped. Not too Grizzly Adams.
Her gaze followed the bridge of his long, aquiline nose to where it flared into broad nostrils. Pale stubble peppered his upper lip and chin. She’d always thought the five o’clock shadow was sexy, but this barely-there goatee was a turn-on, too. The only thing wrong was the set of full lips that dipped into a frown of disapproval.
“Woman, you’re mad as a cut snake.”
“I’m not familiar with that expression.”
He shook his head. “A crazy person.”
“I’m crazy for wanting to get back to my hotel?”
“You’re in the Outback. In the middle of nowhere. Off the grid. This is Far Northern Queensland, Australia. Over one hundred and seventy-six thousand square kilometers of land, carpeted with desert flowers and the occasional wallaby. There is no taxi coming out here. There is no hotel shuttle. We barely have running water. I just emptied the compost toilet this morning. I’ll show you how to do it if you like.”
She gasped. “You cannot be serious!”
A glint of challenge sparked in his eyes. “Oh, but I am.”

Any last words, before you are free to go? And if a reader wants to track you down themselves, where can they find you?
Last words. The only thing we have to fear is bad novels. With my work, you’ll always get snappy dialogue, humor, and steamy sex. If you want to find my work, I’m everywhere. I’m thinking of changing my name so I can get a break from myself. In the meantime, readers can find me here:

Amazon Author Page






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Wednesday, August 17, 2016

Coming In Hot Tour: Muffy Wilson

Hello Readers,
I apologize for my hiatus for the past year. Who knew having babies, my job closing and then opening my own business, and going to college would eat up all that supposed free time people think I have? The good news is the stories are still coming. Speaking of stories, there’s a box set releasing in September you all might be interested in. And of course I kidnapped—ahem—I mean coerced (okay, that probably doesn’t sound better) a fellow author in the set to tell us their secrets.
Which one of you did I manage to trap this time, and what sexy succulence did you stick in Coming In Hot? Hey Muffy Wilson, tell us your secrets!

I wrote a piece, a novella, of about 23k words about a doctor and a troubled twin, Healing Hearts, who is attacked in her sister’s apartment. Naturally, they grow close during her recovery and take it over the top when she clearly is well enough since she is having the waves of Robert Palmers, “Doctor, Doctor give me the news I got a bad case of lovin’ you!” And she loves him up good, baby. Being a twin makes it even more interesting.  And they ain’t sharing their clothes…need I say more? Perhaps this tag line will spark some interest:
Walking on the edge with the underbelly of society in the shadows of the night could be hazardous to your health…or worse—deadly.
Was there anywhere naughty your characters did the thing? Was it based off anything you wanted to try? Or are you a sweet lil vanilla?

Vanilla? No me! I’d put my characters to shame and turn the good doctor’s head faster than a speeding bullet—in my day!
My characters in this book are pretty vanilla. I mean they aren’t doin’ it in a Ferris wheel or an El Camino headed down I-5 at 110 miles an hour (like I did in my sordid, fun-filled youth), for sure, after all she is recovering from a broken pelvis and brain surgery. But, our good doctor is obsessed and repressed so it makes for some saucy sex, I think. We’ll have to wait and see what the readers think! But, in all seriousness, the sex is great but the story is good and could stand on its own. It is complicated with a dandy twist for an ending. Good thing there is sex to break up the story.

If you had unlimited access to money, you would start a... whorehouse!
Nah, but it’s kind of the same thing. I would really establish products and services for Indy authors that they do not have access to now. I do a lot of author promotions on all my social platforms—a bit of paying it forward as thanks to those who helped me so selflessly when I was a greenhorn. I would provide the authors, good Indy authors, access to the finest services: editing, trailers, cover design, models (have you seen Jimmy Thomas—Lord have mercy!), photographers, marketing and promotions. Everything. Our Indy authors today are controlled by social networking and publishing platform algorithms that are designed to percolate the professional, big money making authors to the top and keep the promising at the bottom. It is hard to break through that glass ceiling.
Maybe I’d have a whorehouse too, you know, for…research. After all, I would have unlimited access to money, right? I’d walk around in Bob Mackie gowns and drink SoCo Manhattans like a connoisseur, swear like a sailor, and take what I want, or who, when I want and where I want while dressed to the hilt. Sounds like Heaven-on-a-Stick to me.
Or I would be a time-traveler and go back to change the course of history to make the world a better, safer, more loving place. One or the other.

What is the weirdest experience that ever happened to you? (It can be anything from paranormal encounters to a “I almost died that day!”)
I had an out-of-body-experience the night my mother died. I was 35 years old. We had become best friends from the time I grew out of the daddy love me more competitive between mother and daughter that happens at the thirteen to sixteen stage. I was between jobs and should have been alone. I relied on her a lot—and she me. She was in the same boat. She called me at 0230 in the morning, sick. I rushed over to her apartment and called the EMTs. She looked at me and a tear blossomed in the corner of her left eye and rolled down her cheek leaving a glistening trail of sorrow behind it. She didn’t speak. I knew she was leaving because she took me with her part way. I looked down and saw us together, crying. She wanted me to know she wasn’t afraid or in pain. I was heartbroken but at peace. She was only sixty-one and not a day has gone by that I haven’t thought of her. We are both safe and happy.

Tell us a secret about yourself. Shhhh, we promise not to share. Right, Readers?
I was the Midwest Regional Director in the Real Estate and Construction Division for IBM. I retired at thirty-nine to run a 100 year old bar and restaurant with my husband of three years in Wisconsin. We owned it for thirteen years, worked out butts off and had a blast—then retired to Paradise in SW Florida. I’ll be sixty-seven in September, been married to my only husband for 31 years, but I’m a slut at heart.
What is the most childish pastime indulgence you have?
Trying to have the last word. I am so competitive! I have to WIN at everything. It’s infantile. If you mean real indulgence, it’s chocolate Hostess cupcakes. What is with that?

Do you ever consider writing a different genre? Or do you have a pen name you’d be willing to share that writes a different genre?
I write what I call Provocative Romance. Most of what I write is based in part on my life experiences, dressed up for the Prom, as it were. Some is totally erotic and debased; most of it is about love, lost and found. I don’t have much life experience in being a witch, fighting dragons, flying wingless through the air, chopping people to pieces and feeding them to my pigs or murder. I write what I know and that is relationships, loving, exciting, tortured and/or unfulfilled but always with a happy ending, of sorts. Every manner of the human experience. I want my fans and readers to identify, escape and finish with hope.

Okay, Readers, I better return this author back to the wild before the authorities catch on. Muffy Wilson, before you go, you have to pay the toll. Give the readers an excerpt! (You can make it as naughty or nice as you want.)
I decided to give you the opening page to my piece in Coming in Hot. It’s titled Healing Hearts. Here goes…
Everyone gets what they deserve. Everybody knows that.
Hell, it didn’t matter anyway.
It was the wee hours of the morning and Brianna was all alone on the barren, black, wet streets. Curiously, she was unafraid to walk the night between the underbelly of society that lives in the darkness.
It was probably just like the night her sister was murdered. She was probably troubled by the same things—haunted by the depths of her own depravity. The clack-clack-clack of her heels on the sidewalk announced her approach as she headed…where? Home? That was a laugh. It made her think of the first time—her first time, maybe her sister’s first time—on the streets and in the black flesh pits of San Francisco that served up watered down whiskey, easy women and the finest drug connections money could buy, steal or cheat. Shrouded in the black lies hidden by the night, she did whatever she wanted, whenever she wanted and with whomever she wanted. The rain always had that effect, kept the good ones home while the creeps washed out of every skank black hole.
It was like that her first night…and he was a creep. But she did him anyway, holding her breath as he huffed, thrust, and panted into her young pink mouth. She thought of her kid sister. Was he the one?
The police didn’t know and had no more leads. What was she to do? She had to find out; she had to help. At least, she had to try.
But, she got swept away in the trying.
If she had any doubt about what she had become, it vanished with that blow-job stuffed into her sweet Mona Lisa smile. Every night since, her skirts got shorter and the nights longer and the creeps, well, the creeps were all still creeps.
It was getting harder to remember what her kid sister looked like and why she was here. It was getting harder and harder…and easier, too. There were nights she didn’t care who killed her sister and there were nights she could think of little else.
The line between purpose and obsession became obscure.
She could question how she wound up on the streets, but she already knew. It was a matter of choice—her choice—and the men, the trail of men in her life, were a matter of choice too—her choice and hers alone. She picked them; they didn’t pick her. Still…It was just a matter of time before she would call one of those black rat holes home to curl up with the viper that lived within.
There was a wild thought afloat that nothing positive ever happens until you hit the very bottom of the abyss. Nothing positive had even begun to happen in her life. Guess she had further to fall, since she clearly had not hit rock bottom. Could be. Until then, she entertained herself with the fine parade of men. The steady stream of eager lovers had only one thing wrong—there was no love involved. No names, no “what do you do for a living”, no talk about wives, lovers, divorces or kids. Those were her rules and if you wanted to fuck her, you did it on her terms. Clear, simple, no muss no fuss…and no kissing. She didn’t want to kiss the underbelly of society. They were all scumbags and she liked it that way—on the edge, the tight, unforgiving edge.

Any last words, before you are free to go? And if a reader wants to track you down themselves, where can they find you?
It was great to be here with you and your wonderful fans and readers. They sound like a rowdy fun bunch. I would love to come back again. I still have more secrets, after all—a lifetime of them. Like I said… God only knows, my closets not only have skeletons but my clothes and shoes do too. And here’s a tip…don’t look in the purses. Shhhhhh…J  BTW, you can find me here:

Monday, August 8, 2016

Monday Review: Monster Hunter Generations X

Monster Hunter Generations X released on the 3DS for the US in July. I've had enough time to play with the game and get a feel for it. There are several new features that really caught my attention this edition.

First of all, one of my biggest complaints in the previous games was the fact I had to run all the way back to my house to change gear. In the newest game, there's a "Hunter Prep Area" that allows you to change gear, use the blacksmith, access the House Felyne (which gives access to Meownster Hunters, etc), and access the Palico Board.

While we're on the subject of Palico's... You can now play AS your Palico. That's right. You heard me. You can kick butt and take names in Felyne form. There are actually missions specifically for Palico playtime called Prowler Missions. Though, you can take any hunter mission in town or in the guild hall as a Palico (so far. This may be restricted further in the game.) You can even play with your friends where they are human and you are a Palico, if you so desire. Scraps for armor aren't just obtained through Meownster Hunter missions anymore either. I highly recommend going as a Palico any time you have gathering missions as they can gather without needing pickaxes or bug nets.

Another facet of Palico refinement I'm pleased with is that you aren't stuck with your main Palico being unchangeable anymore. You can recruit, rename, and play as any Palico you hire through the Meowstriss. And she gives you lots of options (from looks to skill types) to use for recruiting.

The graphics are updated, and as gorgeous as ever. If you have played previous games, you'll be pleased to know you'll see some furr-miliar...Uh, I mean familiar faces in the game. I won't spoil it, but I enjoyed it. The maps still allow interaction in the sense of being able to mount monsters.

The newest monters are gorgeous, and I especially love the look and movement of the Malfestio. They've changed the weapons systems for leveling up slightly, and introduced a new system overall that I'm still getting a feel for. I can't give too much of an opinion on it as I'm still not terribly far in the game.

Overall, I think this is my favorite version of Monster Hunter yet. Things that I found lacking in previous editions were solved in this one. Happy Hunting!