This is my ‘N’ post for the Spanking A-Z Blog Challenge. “What’s that?” you ask. Check out my page here for more information and a list of all the wonderful bloggers taking part.
I don’t have guest bloggers round these parts very often. I should definitely do it more. I keep this blog scrupulously hoovered and stocked full of tea, coffee and snacks. Guest bloggers are always welcome. You don’t even need to take your shoes off.
So I will hand you over to the lovely Casey McKay now. She is going to discuss her new book and her first Sci-Fi romance, His Rebellious Queen and talk about how she found choosing names for Sci Fi characters wasn’t the same as coming up with names for characters in her previous books.
|Available in all good bookshops. Also, evil ones.|
I am the type of author that I need to have names figured out before I start writing. I am not a plotter, mind you, so I don’t need to know what the characters are doing just yet, but I need to know their names and have a personality sketch of each one in my mind. For this reason I love naming characters in historicals because I can Google search names from that time period and then jot down five to ten that I like best. It’s pretty simple.
But then when I started writing a romance in the sci fi genre, I didn’t know where to start. I can’t just go around calling an Alpha warrior alien man from another planet Joe, can I? I mean I guess I could but it really doesn’t have a nice ring to it.
|“He is the greatest warrior in all of five galaxies. The scourge of our many evil hostile enemies.
He is known as … Joe.
Oh, and that lady there? She’s his personal trainer, Doris.”
|To be fair, Casey, you are not the only person fascinated by oatmeal.
You are in very good company.
I think I started with constellations. I pored over lists of constellation names and then galaxy names. Scientists, astronomers, planets, and stars. In the end I only remember the origin of a few things. But I named my heroine Lyra, which has something to do with a harp, briefly at one point in time she was going to be musical. That fell by the wayside, no time with all of the secrets and revolutionary plots (maybe in the sequel). My hero became Astor also something constellation related, don’t quiz me on which one, it could even be the latin form of something.
Astor’s arrogant cousin became Pavo, which in some derivative somewhere means peacock and what could be a better name for a hot arrogant alpha male strutting his stuff?
|Hot. Male. Arrogant.
Yup, I think we can all understand Casey McKay’s perverted mind just a little bit better now.
Did you really need to know the inner workings of my mind? Probably not! But hopefully some of you stuck around for the excerpt I brought with me!
Lyra kissed down Astor’s neck and trailed down to the open V of his tunic. He stopped her downward progress with a hand under her chin. It was a silent battle, she pulled away, trying to continue her seduction and he pulled her up. Winning by sheer strength, Astor sat up and pulled her onto his lap. “Are you distracting me with sex, wife?”
She felt her face heat, but she shook her head. “I was only repaying the favor. You are more than deserving, you surprised me with the picnic and so far I’m the only one to have had fun,” she bluffed.
He remained still, holding her in place on his lap as he studied her face. “I am having fun too,” he said, finally, with an easy grin. “But know this, if you try to distract me with your womanly wiles I am of a mind to have you cut a switch.” He nodded toward the thicket of trees they picnicked in front of.
A chill raced down her spine. She did not doubt his threat for a minute and although she had never felt a switch on her backside she was certain it would not be pleasant. She hid her face in his chest and tucked her head under his chin. It surprised her to find she felt warm and safe in this man’s arms. If only he could help her conquer anything as he had promised her in his vows. She was not that naive.
“Please, Astor, do not spoil the fun by getting cross. I only wanted to show my appreciation,” she stared down into her lap, afraid to meet his all knowing eyes.
“Oh, little dove. You bewitch me,” he murmured. She was not even sure she was supposed to hear it. Releasing her from his clutches he placed her aside and reclined on the blanket, placing his hands behind his head. “I’m all yours. Assault me however you wish.”
“However I wish?” she asked as she sat up on her knees beside him.
He frowned at her, “What goes on in that mind of yours?”
She wiggled her eyebrows at him and tried her best to look wicked. She knew she failed miserably when he let out a chuckle.
“Do not tease me, woman,” he barked, his hands shooting out and pulling her forward.
She squealed as he pulled her off balance and she spilled across his chest. “Stop it, you big brute,” she reprimanded through her laughter.
“You have not seen me be brutish yet.”
|Oh my dear fucking god, this is actually a thing.
Someone made life size balloon sculptures of the Duke and Duchess of Cambridge and their children.
Well, that’s my nightmares sorted for the next fortnight, thanks.