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Thursday, October 23, 2008


New at Changeling Press!
The concept of the Imperative series is freedom of choice. Is such freedom desirable? Beneficial? If so, why do we always seem to screw things up?
Years ago, there was a song with an interesting lyric: Freedom of choice is what we've got; Freedom from choice is what we want.
After reading romances for quite some time, I noticed a trend; people who are bound to one another by outside forces. Life mates, soul mates, bound by magic, nature or or a biological mating. Since most women's romance is a fantasy for the female reader, what are we looking for on a gut level? A man who will never cheat, will never leave us. A relationship that is perfect, that was meant to be.
Happily ever after. Of course.
Well, at least that's my interpretation.
That irked me, and when something irks me, I generally confront the issue and put my own spin on it. Thus came Nature's Imperative.
Couples are pulled together, sometimes unwillingly. The Imperative can strike anytime, anywhere. Con Montgomery is literally hanging upsidedown on the side of a building when he feels it.
The Imperative is not comfortable, it causes nausea, vertigo, and a major sense of undefined horniness. If you don't connect with your Imperative mate, bad things happen, and your life will never be whole. Without your mate, you are condemned to a half-life of sorts, without the comfort of a lover, children, or sexual satisfaction.
The characters in this universe are human, they mess up. In Missing You, Con and Duncan literally miss Marina, who is intended by Nature to be their third, and as a result, their idyllic love for one another goes awry, resulting in infidelity. (Well, not really, since the "other woman" was really Marina, thier mate.)
In Always You, Neil and Marilyn are futuristic yuppies, up and comers in their corner of the business world. Their relationship is abrasive and tense. When Nature finally butts her nose into the situation, things don't improve a great deal. After all, Neil has lived his entire adult life as a gay man and is comfortable with his sexuality. He is still deeply in love with Jase, the lover he just broke up with. Marilyn still carries her anger toward Neil, as well as a deep lack of self-confidence. Just because an outside force compels this couple to be together doesn't make them suddenly perfect.
What's next in the series? Well, I'm currently working on Saving You, the story of Jase. Its coming slow, because of all the characters I've ever written, Jase is truly sad, truly disturbed, and in spite of a miracle, he isn't going to just "get over" all the pain in his psyche. I want his story to be just right, after all, he plays an important role in Neil and Marilyn's story.
Another important factor in Saving You is Nature herself; she decides that Jase is important enough that she's actually personified in this book. Jase asks for peace, and she decides to grant him his wish. And peace is certainly not what Jason Anders thinks it will be!
Anyhow, I hope you read and enjoy this series. Number Three may be the end, but who knows, maybe Nature will come knocking on my imagnation one again, giving me some new ideas for the Imperative!

AUTHOR: Belinda McBride
GENRE/THEME: Futuristic, Fantasy, Bisexual
PUBLISHER: Changeling Press
RELEASE DATE: October 24, 2008
WARNINGS: Sexual Situation


In the future, we don't choose our mates; Nature chooses for us. Nature doesn't make mistakes. And if you don't pay attention to Nature's Imperative, you suffer.

She could always get under his skin. He could always send her spinning into fury. Marilyn and Neil aren’t like oil and water, they’re like dynamite and a fuse! Not only do these co-workers hate each other, but Mari’s still in love with her ex-husband, and Neil? Well, Neil is gay.

Nature’s got some explaining to do.


He pushed her to the top of the bed, overwhelmed by softness; soft skin, soft muscle, soft hair. He ran his hands over her body, rough and hard, hands clasping her small breasts, listening to her gasp as he bent down, tasted her nipples. A hand dropped between her legs and Marilyn opened gladly, more than ready to take him.

His hand groped, a bit clumsy, finally a finger slipped within her folds, probing, dipping into her wet channel. Neil pushed himself up, away from her breast and watched his hand, looked at what he was doing.. Her hips thrust against his hand, as though silently urging him on, and her hand dropped to his cock, stroking firmly, with an expert touch. She squeezed, her thumb catching a pearl of pre-come, spreading it over his cock head.

Unable to wait, Neil shifted into position, letting her take his cock, sliding it into her wet, glistening folds.

And then he was inside her body.
* * *
He froze atop her. Marilyn pumped her hips, trying to urge him into movement. He was large, as large as she’d suspected, judging by her covert glimpses of him in the past. He’d been nearly shaking in eagerness, sweat blooming over his skin, his muscles taut and rigid. His cock was so hard, so hot she’d been unable to wait.

And now he hovered there, inches above her body, buried deep within her channel.

“Neil?” She shifted her hips, trying to provoke him to movement. She shivered in frustration. This was the most wildly arousing moment of her life. He’d been rough, and it had felt good, so incredibly good. He’d been awkward, but that wasn’t unusual, some men she’d been with had been much more so.

He was hard inside of her, but suddenly, she felt a sense of disconnection. Isolation.


He blinked in the darkness, and looked down at her. To her dismay, he backed out, sliding to a kneeling position.

“I can’t.”

Nausea bloomed, the sweat on her skin suddenly chilled, and the little bit she’d eaten threatened to come back up.

Marilyn carefully scooted up in the bed, cautious to not brush his skin, to not make any contact at all.

She slid off the bed, glancing at Neil, he still knelt, eyes closed, cock jutting from his body.

“I’m sorry, Mari, don’t leave… please… I just…”

She fished her clothing from the floor, piece by piece, following the trail to the door.


He’d followed her to the living room. He was naked, and Marilyn thought she’d never seen such a beautiful body before. He was tanned and muscled, the result of hours on a rowing team. His cock was still full and hard, jutting from a nest of dark curls. His long legs were muscular and as perfect as she’d ever seen.

“That’s okay, Neil. I do understand, really.” She pulled her sweater over her head and quickly tied the drawstring on her pants. She picked up her shoes, not bothering to put them on.

“I’ll go home now. If it’s too hard to be apart, I’ll just… maybe take your spare room. I’m not really interested in relationships, but maybe you and Jase…”

Her gaze swept the room and she spotted her tote. She scooped it from the floor.

“Marilyn, it’s not what you…”

The door shut behind her.


He squeezed his eyes closed and turned back to the bedroom. Neil’s cock ached unbearably, and he fell face first onto the neatly made bed.

The pressure of the mattress on his cock was overwhelming.. He thrust once, twice, imagining that he was back inside that incredible, wet, tight passage. Once more and he shuddered in climax. The climax he’d been trying to delay when he’d pulled out of her body. He’d been completely overwhelmed by the foreign nature of the act, the unfamiliar curves and planes of a female body.

He’d found himself lost in an incipient climax before he’d even thrust into her once. His brain had shut down completely, unable to process what the hell was happening.

And then she was gone.

Neil rolled to his back, the buzzing in his head had returned, his stomach gripped with pain. He rolled to his feet and rushed to the bathroom, just in time to make it to the toilet before being sick.

Wednesday, October 15, 2008

Poverty Awareness Day

This is a cross-post from author Deborah MacGillivray:

The sad story of Dawn and Diane Thompson of New York, USA.

I won't address the many hard knocks that hit the Thompson sisters through the years. Life tends to visit death, loss and unfortunate circumstances upon us all. It's their later life-and death of Dawn-that touches my heart and mind on this day meant to bring world consciousness to the ugliness of poverty.

Eleven years ago, Dawn was hit in a car accident that left her unable to walk. She could barely take more than two or three steps, dragging one leg. She had rods in her arms, and due to improper care in hospital, she lost the use of the last three fingers on her left and right hand. They were curled back and could no longer respond for her. From that point on a wheelchair was her only means of moving about. There was a settlement for the accident, so she was able to get along.The government provided her $565 per month in disability (I have no idea why so LOW), meaning she would have had no means of existing without the settlement.

They originally provided her with an aid in the morning to help bathe and get her dressed. Another came in the afternoon to do errands such as pick up medicine, fetch groceries and do laundry. A third came in just before bedtime to help her undress and get into bed. Three years ago, they decided Dawn was getting too much aid, and cut her aids for afternoon and evening. Afternoons were difficult, but the night aid really was missed most of all. It was very hard for Dawn to get out of the wheelchair after sitting in it for 12 hours straight. Sometimes it took her an hour of battling just to get into bed. This was a woman in her late sixties and riddled with pain and arthritis. Each night was dangerous on her heart.

Dawn's plight became more acute at the end of 2005. She had an accident that nearly killed her-the wheelchair malfunctioned and tossed her into the dishwasher, ripping open her thigh. She was lucky she didn't bleed to death. Medical expenses mounted. Yes, she had Medicare. But co-payments and so many medicines she needed were not covered by the government support saw her money from the accident settlement eaten up by these expenses. She was forced in the spring of 2007 to sell her pre-paid funeral policy just to pay her rent. She had to choose between food and a roof over her head. Things grew so grim, that I began sending her food and cat food.

Author Rowena Cherry was another who sent money to help Dawn, as well as my dear friend Monika Wolmarans. Monika is retired and on very limited means herself, so her giving to help Dawn really touched me. I thank both ladies for their caring about Dawn's plight.

Dawn fell had to be hospitalized, and things spiraled out of control. People couldn't understand how a woman with over a dozen books out for two publishers didn't have plenty of money. Well, sad fact, new authors don't make big bucks, and often you have to wait 2-3 years before you are seeing money from your books. The money those books would earn would came way too late to help Dawn.

During her final days, her younger sister, Diane, stayed with her as much as possible. She was a driver-education instructor and basically the only person there for Dawn in her final days. She requested family emergency leave, and was refused. Then she requested vacation time - time she would spend easing her sister in her final moments. The hard-hearted boss refused to give her vacation time. Instead, she was forced to choose between obeying her boss and being there with Dawn in her final moments. I am eternally grateful she chose to be there for Dawn. I do not want to imagine how horrible it would have been for my friend had she faced dying alone.

Only, the problems started for Diane. Diane-called Candy by her friends-was fired by her hard-hearted boss. She is sixty-one, has trouble walking without a cane because of arthritis in her knees. She was forced on unemployment, which barely paid her rent. What money she had in reserves went for food, electric and phone. Very quickly, she was facing little food in the house, losing electric and phone service. Unemployment was extended three months. We are hoping they will extend it another time, but so far that hasn't happened. Things are getting grim for her, and once again, I am sending food shipments. Once again Monika, who has so little, is sending money to help.

Candy is sixty-one. Recently, she went in for a job interview and the lady took one look at her slow gait and told her not to bother applying. Candy doesn't own a car, doesn't live near buses (couldn't walk to them if they were near), and is in an area too far from anything that might provide a job. Even if she could get to a job, it would have to be one where she could sit down. She just cannot stand all day. Within a few weeks she is going to be facing some ugly decisions if she doesn't get some help from somewhere. There is a period of about seven months before she can get Social Security. She might qualify for disability, too, but she would spend months, even years getting that. She needs help NOW.

What are the answers? I don't have them. I do know the American government allows their seniors to live on next to nothing. Rent subsidy for New York is only about $350. WHERE can you live in New York for that? The answer from the social worker - "You can't. You will have to go into a group home, but you don't want that as it's nothing but drug addicts." Candy was denied medical aid. This woman NEEDS medical care and cannot get it. She checked into Meals on Wheels and was told sure they could add her, but the meals came with a fee. A fee? She cannot afford anything. She is facing winter afraid of losing heat, electric and being thrown into the streets.

There are untold of Dawns and Dianes out there. Too many. The government just bailed out the economy, gave out rebates earlier this year to everyone. But nothing to help those who really are in need. Both Diane and Candy worked all their lives, paid their taxes and Social Security. Yet, when they needed help it was and isn't' there. How can this United States sentence their elderly to this sort of humiliating and life threatening circumstances?

Someone needs to care. We all need to care. Time ran out for Dawn. Time is running out for Candy. How many others are facing the same sort of scary, grim circumstances as the holidays approach? When you sit down to your turkey dinner come Thanksgiving, take a moment to consider those who won't have the comfort of family, a safe place to live, and food on the table.Don't say how sad. DO SOMETHING. Demand of your representative to ensure better care for our elderly; look around you, see how you can help. Millions are being collected for the poor in other countries, which is perfectly fine, but who is looking after the poor and sick and helpless in the USA? "Family and friends" should come first before we pour money into other countries. Is a sad state of affairs. We are always ready and willing to donate money to a good cause. Help is needed right here at home. It should be made easier for people to qualify for funds, red tape should be cut. It is very humiliating to apply for welfare or for help, it takes far too long to receive funds and the deserving cases are getting nothing, or have to fight over and over and have to wait until it is too late.

Courtesy of Deborah Macgillivray

Saturday, October 4, 2008

Paradise Found

Not really much to say in this blog, mostly, I want to share photos of a couple of the lovliest places in the world that I've ever visited; the USVI. Even though we had to flee a tropical storm a few days early, it was still such an incredible place to go. Years ago, as a travel agent, I often heard vacationers ask for an a quiet, abandoned beach somewhere...

The beach shots are St John, the quaint town and the iguana are on St Thomas. That's Amanda and her friend Linda Chau playing in the ruins of a sugar mill on St John.