Aubrey Watt's Blog

Thanks Karielle for having me as a guest post on your awesome blog! Check out Books a la Mode for tons of awesome romance giveaways and a chance to win a copy of Paragon!

Today is a lucky day indeed! At least, it will be for one lucky commenter on this page! I’m giving away a free copy of my new novel PARAGON.

 

In the middle of the Arizona desert, a hundred feet underground, the United States military is illegally developing the first emotionally sentient android. Classified top secret, the mission has failed to successfully awaken the first two androids created in the lab.

When brilliant neuroscientist Chal Davidson is called in to assist, the third android is just hours from being awakened. By the time she realizes the vast implications of her work, it’s too late to stop the prototype’s development. Torn by her moral and scientific responsibilities, Chal is even more confused by the emotional connection she is starting to feel with the newly-created man. The only hope she has is escape–for her and the android–and time is running out… 

I feel very lucky this month for a few different reasons. One of the reasons is my new novel – it’s doing so much better than my shorter works. Don’t know if people just like sexy android, or what, but I’m ecstatic!

The second reason is that I am very fortunate to have a boyfriend who is supportive, strong, and sexy as hell! If I didn’t have him, I wouldn’t be half as inspired to write the romance that I do.

Why are you feeling lucky this month? Leave a comment with your email to enter for a chance to win a free copy of PARAGON!

Here’s the link to the bloghop! Follow along!

I’m going to be all over the place doing guest posts in March along with some giveaways of my novel Paragon! Make sure to visit these pages and give some love to the blogs that have graciously offered to host me

March 7th The Galaxy Express

March 8th Backward Momentum 

March 11th Star-Crossed Romance

March 12th Ramblings from a Chaotic Mind

March 14th Belle’s Book Blog

March 17th Books A La Mode

When I first finished my novel Paragon, I sent it to a few of my romance writer friends and asked for critiques before I started the editing process. One of the comments I received shocked me. She said:

“I really liked the story, and the romance and science fiction elements are great. I just wonder if it’s a bit anti-feminist, especially the end.”

***CAUTION, REST OF POST INCLUDES PLOT SPOILERS***

At first I had no idea what she meant. My main character is a smart, sexy neuroscientist who (I thought) was the epitome of a strong woman. But when I thought back to the plot, I was astonished to realize that maybe she was right. After all, Chal Davidson decides to leave America with the android Alan after they escape from the laboratory. I smacked myself in the head. I had written a book where the woman leaves her career…for a man! How could I have been so stupid?

I took a few days to sit and think about whether or not the plot should be reworked. Women in high-paying, high-impact careers have always inspired me, and I volunteer as a mentor for female college students in math and engineering fields. I’ve learned how to negotiate for promotions and raises and taught myself all about finances and investing. As a woman in the workplace, I have always tried to push myself towards the top when I think I deserve it. I would never leave my career for a man!

This is an especially thorny issue for me relationship-wise. Last year when I started dating a guy who made less than a fourth of my salary, I thought it wouldn’t be an issue. So I made more than him – so what? But tension started to grow in our relationship whenever we talked about money, especially when he moved into my place and couldn’t afford to pay his share of the rent. Eventually I confronted him and we had a good talk about it.

It turned out that he was anxious because he thought I wanted him to make more than he did, and I was upset because it seemed like he never appreciated the hard work and dedication that I put in to keep my finances secure. After talking and crying and more talking, we agreed that we needed to support each other, no matter what our priorities are. We simply have different ways of looking at the world, and just like in any relationship, we had to figure out how to mesh our two lives together without stepping on each other’s toes.

I noticed that when I was writing the second half of my novel, the tone shifted along with Chal’s development as a character, and along with the new-found understanding of my own relationship. Paragon starts out as a novel about a neuroscientist, and for Chal everything is about her work. As she meets Alan, though, Chal begins to see herself more as a woman than a scientist and Alan more as a man than an android; she views the world in a different way through the lens of her newly discovered passion. It’s not all about the science anymore. Both Chal and Alan discover what it means to love for the first time, and the book changes along with them.

Paragon starts off as a science fiction novel, and ends as a romance. Maybe this is a flaw in the writing, and I hope I don’t antagonize readers who come in expecting one side or the other. But I changed my perspective halfway through the novel, and so did Chal, and it definitely shows. I hope that doesn’t make my novel anti-feminist, and I certainly hope that doesn’t make ME anti-feminist!

But of course, as always, that’s for the reader to decide. What do you think?

 

 

 

In the middle of the Arizona desert, a hundred feet underground, the United States military is illegally developing the first emotionally sentient android. Classified top secret, the mission has failed to successfully awaken the first two androids created in the lab.

When brilliant neuroscientist Chal Davidson is called in to assist, the third android is just hours from being awakened. By the time she realizes the vast implications of her work, it’s too late to stop the prototype’s development. Torn by her moral and scientific responsibilities, Chal is even more confused by the emotional connection she is starting to feel with the newly-created man. The only hope she has is escape–for her and the android–and time is running out… 

EXCERPT:

He floated now in the tank, attached with an IV to the liquid that would wake him from his unconscious rest. It was remarkable how much he looked like a normal human. Chal knew that, physically at least, he was as human as she was. It was just a matter of making sure his mind could weather the transition into consciousness. His dark hair waved in slow motion in the water. She watched him, for the first time taking in his appearance.

Alan.

He was handsome, and this was something that she had not prepared herself for. His body was perfect, chiseled and lean, and his facial features were decidedly masculine, dark eyebrows slanting across his brow, an aquiline nose.

His naked body bobbed slightly in the saltwater, and Chal adjusted the padding around the sides, not wanting him to bump his head on the tank walls. She moved slowly, carefully, but her hand accidentally touched the prototype’s limb. She let her fingers move on his skin. He felt warm to the touch, and Chal let his wet skin glide under the pads of her fingers.

Smooth. Like a baby. Yet full-grown, a man already on the outside. It was strange, and as Chal examined him she felt a mixture of emotions surge forward under her skin. Curiosity surpassed all of the rest, but it wasn’t a clinical curiosity as it had been in the past. Every animal she had worked with had been on the very low end of the Freitas consciousness spectrum. The difference between a baby rat and a full-grown rat had more to do with size and mobility than with intelligence. They could both run mazes, after all. But a human man is so different from a human infant that Chal trembled at the thought of waking the prototype up.

Her hand traced the line of his shoulder, his neck. She was curious who he would be once he woke up. Would he be a conscious person? Really? His mind would be an infant’s, although not for long. She would have to remember that, to make a point of remembering.

His face was calm as her hand made its way up to his cheek and rested there. Chal’s fingers stroked the skin at his temple absentmindedly.

What will you think when you wake up?

***

Now available at Amazon and Barnes and Noble!

Sheriff Bret Murlton has grown bored of living in hot, dusty Maid Creek, where the only women are whores and the only fun is drinking. That’s all about to change when one of his childhood friends comes riding into town, chased by lawmen and haunted by the dark secret he carries. Will Bret put aside the law for his friend once he finds out the truth?

[Warning: this 20,000 word novella contains graphic depictions of gay anal and oral sex, spanking, light BDSM and bondage]

Excerpt:

“So where you been, Ten?” Bret asked as the younger man settled into the other chair. Bret began dealing the cards onto the rickety wood table between them. The fire burned hot and Ten took off his boots one by one.

“Phoenix,” Ten said. “Other places.” He looked at the facedown card in front of him as Bret dealt him a queen, faceup. Bret had a seven showing, so it was Ten’s turn. He checked, and Bret checked behind.

“Phoenix?” Bret said. “What was that like?” He had meant the question as a nicety, but Ten’s brow furrowed and his mood turned black almost instantly.

“Ain’t never going back there,” Ten said. “Dirty, hot city. Fulla trouble.”

“They kicked you out of Phoenix for good?” Bret said, hoping to tease Ten back into a better mood. He burned a card and dealt the next round of cards facedown. “Musta been something real good to get the whole city hatin’ you.”

“Check,” Ten said. Bret wavered, then checked behind. He burned a card, dealt out fourth street, and Ten checked again. The fire crackled in the hearth.

“Tell me why you’re on the run,” Bret said. He tried to say it casual, betting out small.

“Who said I was on the run?” Ten said. He looked at his cards, looked over at Bret’s seven, then looked back at his cards. He seemed irritated with something.

“Your horse told me when you rode up,” Bret said. “Darned creature looked ready to break down right there.”

“None of your business,” Ten said brusquely. He called the bet.

Bret burned another card and dealt the last street. Again Ten checked. Bret bet out small again.

“The hell it’s none of my business,” he said. “You’re under my roof, aintcha?”

Ten stood up and threw his cards down onto the table.

“Fine then, I’ll leave.” He stood in front of the fire with his shoulders squared, as though readying for a fight. There was something that made his entire body seem to shiver under his skin, and Bret had the scary sensation of having accidentally cornered a rattlesnake.

“Ain’t nothing to get upset over, Ten,” Bret said. He didn’t move, just held his cards in his lap loosely, waiting.

“Ain’t upset!” Ten slammed his hand into the wall. The crack of it echoed in the small room, and dust puffed out from the wall, twinkling in the light of the fire. The two men looked at each other, the air crackling with tension between them.

“What’d you do, Ten?” Bret asked. He asked in a way that made it clear he needed an answer, not just because he might be dealing with the lawmen chasing Ten but because he cared, and cared mightily, about what had happened to his friend.

***

Buy it now on Amazon or Barnes and Noble!

Hello fellow bloghoppers! It’s almost Valentine’s day, and I’m going to be celebrating romance… gay cowboy romance, that is! The first part of my novella Be Not Lonesome is already up and published, but I’m going to be giving away a free copy of the full novella to one lucky commenter. So leave your email address in the comments if you want to spice up your Valentine’s day by reading about some hot sexy cowboys… and prepare for a wild ride!

I just had this awesome post pointed out to me by Penelope Trunk: Date a Girl Who Reads. Here’s an excerpt…

It’s easy to date a girl who reads. Give her books for her birthday, for Christmas and for anniversaries. Give her the gift of words, in poetry, in song. Give her Neruda, Pound, Sexton, Cummings. Let her know that you understand that words are love. Understand that she knows the difference between books and reality but by god, she’s going to try to make her life a little like her favorite book. It will never be your fault if she does.

She has to give it a shot somehow.

Full text here.

To go along with it, a short poem I wrote when I was a teenager and had not yet ever fallen in love.

Give me passion, give me desperation,

give me a soft hug

or a hard kiss

but nothing in between

I’ll be torn

and caressed

But I don’t want to be held

simply because a boy

is supposed to

put his arms

around a girl

It’ll keep her from being sad

It’ll keep her from being happy.

Hope you are all having a wonderful end of January, and let’s be grateful for the next month that lies ahead of us. February is full of promise and hope and things that we might yet do if we do not give into fear.

Here’s an erotic poem I just submitted to a poetry contest. I liked it and it took me a bit out of my comfort zone, so I thought I’d share it with y’all. Comments always appreciated!

You Take Me In Darkness

When the sun has tumbled below the mountains I let it fall
and slip into the shower under cover of darkness
Hot, wet,
Breathing steam,
Forgetting.
Forgetting what the day’s light looked like
Forgetting what tomorrow’s sun will look like.

You open the door, letting in a rush of cold
and you
reach my mouth with your mouth
my hands with your hand
my thighs with your thigh
hard, insistent, yes, always, yes.

You are nothing in the dark but hands and mouth and hardness
as you press into me and something inside me curls up,
up,
igniting a fire that smolders in warmth, in wetness,
the slow and shivering rise
until pure white flashes in front of my blind eyes
and my body arcs in an electric curve.
I am still and unmoving in the flash of the moment like a dancer under a strobe light caught in agony or ecstasy or both.

You are the dark and welcome invader, and I cannot see your mouth
but I know that you are smiling.

 

[This post was originally published on Smutwriters.com, a blog for erotica and romance authors.]

If you don’t have time to read, you don’t have the time (or the tools) to write. Simple as that. – Stephen King, On Writing

Recently someone asked me whether my writing has changed the way I read, and specifically the way I read erotica.

We all know that reading changes the way you write. Whenever I read David Foster Wallace, I start to write more and more like David Foster Wallace. It’s terrible, especially since David Foster Wallace (as far as I know) never wrote romantic stuff. But the other way around is also a transformative process. Writing does change the way you read.

1. Writers are more voracious readers.

Read, read, read. Read everything-trash, classics, good and bad, and see how they do it. Just like a carpenter who works as an apprentice and studies the master. Read! You’ll absorb it. Then write. If it is good, you’ll find out. If it’s not, throw it out the window.

-William Faulkner

As a writer, I’ve found myself seeking out many more books than normal. I’ve always been a heavy reader, but lately I’ve found myself reaching for books at any moment in the day. When I go to the library to return a book, I always end up with three more. I think it’s because now I have the excuse that reading for me is actually professional development. Stay in bed and read all day? That’s so productive!

2. Writers are more appreciative readers.

When a book touches your spirit and transports you to a place you’ve never been, it’s not uncommon for you to read the last page, turn the book over and start at Page 1 to figure out how the author did that.- Jenny Hansen

Whenever I read a book now, I’m always amazed at how quickly and easily the author sucks me into their world. I’ve always tended to reread good books, but lately I’ve found myself poring over pages repeatedly, being amazed at how effortless it all seems. The last book I read that I immediately had to reread was Child of God by Cormac McCarthy. I ended up reading it three times in a week (it’s a short book) because the language was just so amazing. Some people claim that reading good authors makes them depressed – after all, I’ll never write like McCarthy – but for me, it’s just nice to be able to recognize and appreciate genius on a whole new level.

3. Writers are more involved readers.

Our accumulating findings are providing increasing support for the hypothesis that reading fiction facilitates the development of social skills because it provides experience thinking about other people. That is, we think the defining characteristic of fiction is not that it is made up but that it is about human, or humanlike, beings and their intentions and interactions. - Scientific American

While readers may be developing their people skills by reading, writers are developing their reading skills by writing. I used to simply let myself become engaged in a story, without fully appreciating the language, character development, or structure of the book. Of course I still let myself fall into a book without thinking too much about it, but more and more I find myself slowing down to examine exactly how the author achieved a certain effect. It’s allowed me to engage with books at a deeper level, and I think I’m a better reader for it.

Okay, sometimes it’s hard to switch off “writer mode” and enjoy a story. With erotica, I sometimes find that I am less turned on during a sex scene while I’m reading it. Instead, I’m analyzing their use of sensory description and taking notes on how they tie the sex back into the character development. Then I remember that I should take off my writer’s hat and just go along for the ride.