Great to have you here, Kathleen! Both my readers and I would love to learn more about Loose ID and their submission procedures, editors likes & dislikes, if you have time. In the meantime, I can't wait to read your post so I'll shut up now and read!
Bad Religion by Kathleen Scott: A Loose ID Release
I can’t seem to leave my genres intact. Like some mad scientist mucking about in the lab, I like to mix things up to see the reaction and results. When I first conceived the idea for Bad Religion, it originally started out as an erotic romance set in a future far from Earth. It also started out as a novella that grew like one of those 4th of July charcoal caps that you light with a match and watch expand all over the sidewalk. Yes, I’m pretty good about establishing a word count in my head and bringing in a story within that framework. However, this time my eight-thousand word short story turned into a ninety-eight thousand word novel and the first part of a trilogy.
I tell you this because if I had just gone the straight futuristic erotic romance route, I probably would have been able to stay in the word count. Something happened though when I started to explore the background of Kree Janus and Eavan desMort, my heroine and hero of Bad Religion. Their beliefs and cultures were so vastly different that in order for them to save the world, they had to come to some kind of accord and understanding. In other words, they had to have not only a common enemy, but both fight for something they believed in that was bigger than them.
Now, I’m not talking about your average bad guy, but rather bad guys who represent horrific ideas: oppression, servitude, genocide—all added into a love story that crosses religious and cultural boundaries. All representations of such are entirely fabricated from the flotsam and jetsam of my mind. Pieces of things I’ve picked up while reading anthropology books and mythology tales that I throw together in a beaker and mix around (see mad scientist reference above.)
What happens when you start adding little pieces of this and that over the course of an entire novel is you come up with some kind of amalgamation of genre. Techno-gadgets and interstellar travel coexist with magic and Gods/Goddesses, battling it out for belief over reason.
And I like that.
I’m not one that believes because a book is labeled as erotic romance, it can’t be rich in plot or world-building. As a matter of fact I love my steamy scenes of intense sex married with complex reasons for and or against such relationships. It makes for an infinitely more interesting story, something the reader can sink their teeth into. Also, it helps when writing a series to have a larger overall arc to take threads from and tie into the next few books.
Do I ever do just straight genre fiction?
*Takes time to think* - Um, no not that I can recall. Honestly, I don’t think my mind works that way. There are too many interesting things in the universe to limit one’s self to genre or subgenre.
Here is a blurb to whet your appetite.
Blurb:
Kree Janus is a sexual mystic.
As the head of the Order of Sopha, it is her sworn duty to ensure her religion continues under the threat of genocide. Trapped in a warehouse by one of the theocrats' enforcers, a Druma warrior who hunts by pheromones, Kree is captured and taken to a secret hideout away from the long arm of the guards. Kree’s survival depends on the plans of her sworn enemy, a man who brings all her sensual desires and pleasures raging to the surface, even in the face of peril.
Eavan desMort is a Druma warrior.
Contracted as an enforcer for the theocratic council, he has taken an assignment to bring in the Sophite premier, Kree Janus, for execution. Eavan has plans of his own. Charged by his people to bring Kree to their settlement, he has taken vows to die for her if necessary. Nothing, however, prepares him for the overwhelming call of her flesh. It is a temptation that could mean the very loss of his honor if he gives in.
Excerpt:
Pretending sleep, Kree held still. She forced deep, even breaths through her trembling lips. It was probably too late. He’d most likely seen her movement. She only prayed her captor had been looking elsewhere when she woke.
Why hadn’t he killed her? Had someone saved her after the enforcer shot her? It really didn’t matter. She was alive and as long as she remained so, she could still save her people.
“I know you’re awake.” His voice had the timbre of ground glass. But at the same time the confident tone sent desire shooting from her breasts to her sex.
Liquid heat settled between her legs.
Her heart pounded. Not even fear had caused such an adrenaline rush.
Her captor took in a deep breath and moaned. A swath of light spilled from a floor lamp. Kree couldn’t see his face, but his erection was visible behind the seams of his leather pants.
He dropped a tattooed hand to his thigh and shifted in the chair.
“I’m not going to hurt you.” He finally leaned into the light. Those same eagle-sharp eyes caught her in their snare like prey.
His raspy velvet voice and hypnotic gaze enfolded her, pulling her under like a drowning woman. The mystery of the other missing Sophites had been solved. By hiring the Druma warriors as enforcers, the theocrats hadn’t even given the sisters a chance at survival.
Drumas hunted by pheromones. A more effective tool when hunting a population of sexually charged female mystics had never been used. The worst part was the fact Kree’s own body had begun to betray her.
All along her nerve endings the sweet hum of desire caressed her under her skin, leaving a hot trail of need in its wake. All her strength and concentration remained fixed on her fake slumber. If he moved or came near her now she’d go up in flames without a fight.
But she had to fight. That’s all the Sophites had left.
Despite her best efforts, her nipples hardened under her thin shirt.
The Druma enforcer let out a long hunger-filled growl.
He stood, his pants hugging every hard curve of his impressive physique.
“If you don’t want to talk now, that’s all right. We can have an entire lifetime to know each other. But make no mistake, Kree Janus, you will obey me on this journey.”
He put one knee on the bed. Leaning over, he brushed his mouth against hers. “I have ways of making you cooperate.”
****
From Bad Religion by Kathleen Scott, a Loose ID release. Now Available.
Linkage
http://www.loose-id.com/Bad-Religion.aspx
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