Time to ramp up the yearning and longing. Stories of romance and redemption. My fingers itch in excitement as they fly across the keys, the images tumbling out….Yes! Yes to the possibility of love and a sweet (hot and spicy) happily-ever-after.

XO
Louisa

Which leads to my initial question. This writer will have to pen in some heartbreak for my characters I believe. I’ll use the classic formula of “Art imitates Life” and find a way to ease some of my own sadness with my writing muse. Of course, there WILL be a happily-ever-after. That’s the rule for romance. And, as far as I’m concerned, that’s the rule for romance  in real life too.

I can see a tiny break in the gray clouds, the faintest blue peeking out with a wispy promise of spring. It’s the spring equinox next week. The paranormal creatures are stirring, the dragons are taking wing over Mt. Hood and this writer intends to make a fresh start, easing heartbreak and telling more tales of the Draca.

Today’s blog at Erotica For All is about the muse inspiration for my dragon shape-shifters- can you guess? Portland! Come check out some fantastic photos of Portland and my own musings on how a city inspired an entire book!

http://eroticaforall.co.uk/guest-blogs/guest-blog-louisa-kelley/#comment-1976
XO
Louisa

I could hear the creatures of paranormal Portland howling in delight. Perhaps if I had been able to observe just a little longer, I may have seen the brief outline of an ecstatic  dragon winging across the burnt umber expanse of moon.

This town inspires fantasy in every cell of my writer’s heart. To find out more about my Portland inspiration, check out my online interveiw by Christy Caughie at:

http://www.examiner.com/romance-novel-in-portland/dragons-roam-portland-louisa-kelley-s-new-book
XO
Louisa

http://goddessfishpromotions.blogspot.com/2012/01/virtual-book-tour-daughters-of-draca.html

Portland paranormality has quite perked up; all this stirring about on the internet with their stories. I’ve been repeatedly asked “what about the next story Louisa? Book Three?” And I always answer the same way. Nareen’s story will be told. I promise.  Next book is hers; Nareen of the Draca.
XO
Louisa

It’s another hot and spicy read, with plenty of action and romance. Here’s an excerpt to wet your anticipation for the latest book on the Draca and the Portland women who love them:

(Our heroine, Cara, is taking her first flight in the air with her lover and Draca shape-shifter, Aedhan)

‘Cara gripped the ridges of his back, her knuckles white. When she didn’t fall off, she realized she was balanced. Perfectly, impeccably balanced. The thick muscles of his hide worked and contracted beneath her, hundreds of subtle adjustments that kept her upright. Her hair and clothes blew in the cool wind as he flew them into the clouds, surrounding them in a cloak of wet grayness. All sound seemed muffled; only the rhythmic noise of his hoarse breath and the huff of gigantic wings penetrated the fog. She relaxed her grip a little and tried to catch her breath….

They flew for what seemed like hours until Aedhan aimed down toward a green meadow next to a small lake. Slowing his approach in the manner of an airplane, he glided into a smooth descent and hit the ground in a few powerful steps. With immense grace, he lowered his great body to the soft wildflowers of the meadow.

Cara tumbled bonelessly down his side, laughing when she tried to stand and failed. Dizzy, she lay on her back and looked up at her Draca huffing above her and giving her what could only be a Draca grin. The high afternoon sun blazed, but nothing felt hotter than the look in her Draca’s eyes.

He moved his great bulk partly over her, pinning her in place. She grinned at him, fearless now, still laughing and out of breath. “What a ride, you fantastic beast! Can we do it again?…”

All Rights Reserved
Louisa Kelley, Author

Louisa has found another dragon shape-shifter, living in a tattoo shop of all places. In Portland. And there’s a woman as well. Of course. Cara. She’s a massage therapist and a member of a dragon boat racing team. In the new story coming in January, Cara meets Aedhan, our mysterious tattoo artist with strange skills and tattoo ink imbued with something powerful. He’s a most paranormal creature and quite the eccentric, charming character.

He takes Cara on the ride of her life, all the while keeping a powerful truth secret from her. Incredibly, Aedhan discovers her blood carries a trace of an ancient DNA bloodline of Draca. And that means Aedhan and the shape-shifters called the Draca, have found yet another human daughter of Draca. This has huge ramifications for Aedhan and the Draca. How to break the news to Cara? And what about the secret Aedhan carries about the true purpose of the tattoo shop?…Stay tuned.

Here in Metro Portland, as the rich Autumn swell of trees lose their gold and red leaves to the chilly winter ground, all is well. The creatures are settled, waiting for the story to be told. They continue to hide from the day and the dangerous light of humans. They talk to only one, their favorite person, the woman who dares to spin tales of otherworldly romance. No one loves a good romance more than the local vampires and shape-shifters. And perhaps, a fairy or two. They eagerly await the January 2012 publication online of the story called “Cara and the Draca.”

In this winter in particular, I feel the Goddess and the divine feminine stirring my heart and imagination like no other time in my life.  A dramatic winter solstice and beginning of the new year are bringing a heightened awareness of the heartbeats of the paranormal creatures. Slow and steady, my other worldly creatures wait for the cold to end, and they wait for my words to begin again. They know, more than anyone, of the romance that has taken over my life in real time and replaced the ones in my stories. My vampires and shape-shifters are amused by my distraction, pacing in their dens and basements, hidden in Forest Park and deep caves in the mountains of the Gorge.  Their conceit tells them soon I will be telling their stories again, painting their lives with my sentences and passion.

As I  laze in the backyard with the rare warm August breeze across my skin and the lengthening evening shadows darkening my quiet street, I feel the spirits of the paranormal at rest….My vampire disappeared at the first hint of 80 degree weather, and the werewolf has fled to a cool ravine in the Gorge. All of us, the humans and the ‘others’ take a well deserved break for the short, deliriously wonderful summer season of Portland.

Perhaps our ‘other’ citizens  are run from the parks by the plays and the music and the movies. They have left us, for now.  And yet I feel them even so. They too, are enjoying. Laying back somewhere secret and breathing the scented summer air.  Summer air smells completely different than any other time. Dry grasses and leafy trees and hot cement and gardens and newly growing things…

And what about dragons, you may ask? Forgive the segue, but you must know of my passion for mythical creatures and dragons most of all.  Last Monday night I was the guest blogger on a wonderful website about all things paranormal. Authors are invited to post something informative and interesting, about anything and everything to do with the paranormal/romance/magical world. It was my honor to write about dragons, of course.

I had some great responses and it was a total blast to do. I really thank Lynda Hilburn for the invite to post. Check it out at:http://paranormalityuniverse.blogspot.com/  I’m listed on the left as a guest blogger. Click on it and you’ll see my very dragon-esque post!

Do you suppose that was a dragon I saw crouched underneath the Hawthorne bridge? The Hawthorne turned 100 years old this year. Had it’s very own party. I sure hope all the craziness didn’t scare our dragon away. Dragons…more rare than a Portland summer day.

Here’s to Summer!

XO

Louisa

In the meantime, as always, the turning of the season is inspiring my muse. It’s trying to be spring in Portland, yet I brace for the inevitable disappointment. Surely, our days of gray rain are not over yet…But for now, I lift my face to the tiny pink blossoms that are starting their yearly fairy rain, and think of, unaccountably…werewolves…

I’ve heard whispers of a small group, drawn to the parks of inner south east Portland (the ‘People’s Republic of Portland’). Word has gone out in the hidden paranormal community…rumors of crafty writers, uncovering secrets. Secrets that lurk in the thick trees of Mt Tabor, and around the pond at Laurelhurst park. Secrets that hide in plain sight…

I wander the meandering paths of Laurelhurst park, and try to imagine I can see them. And they can see me…

A bushy, auburn tail vanishes in the underbrush; a slender canine form with a long, wolf-like muzzle. Just a flash, then sudden crunchy noises, like a heavy form landing hard in the remainders of the fall leaves…From behind the rough bark of a cluster of fir trees steps out a stranger.
This writer’s eyes widen at the sight of his incredibly buff and totally naked form. I open my mouth to call out an astonished remark when the naked image burned into my retinas vanishes. Just like that.

Knees weak, I sink to the damp grass. Dim spring sunlight barely warms the earth, but I give no heed to the wet soaking through my jeans. Every sense trembles in astonished understanding.
I have seen one. I have seen, with my own eyes, the evidence of what I long suspected. A wolf who is a man, a man who is a wolf. Piercing golden eyes had met my own, a brief moment of recognition and warning. As clear as if he had spoken the words, the message zinged in my veins.

Tell no one!

Ah, yet I am one of the writers they must complain about. The one finding their hidden places and exposing their needs. Their need of connection to the human world. To the world of lust and love and longing. It cannot be a coincidence that I find them, that their stories make their way to me. To my brain and heart and fingers flying across my keyboard.

I mean you no harm, sweet and dangerous paranormal creatures. I am more like you than you know. My stories seek you, are inspired by you, want you more than anything…All of us are bound by this city, trapped in it’s otherworldy charms. And we can comfort each other, protect each other. I vow to continue my writing quest, and to find you once again.