#WriteTip - Filter out the Filters! by @CeliaBreslin, spotlighting her @DecadentPub #Shifter #PNR + $10 #Giveaway

To finish off a manuscript, I always pull up the handy dandy Find All function in MS Word and highlight items on my list of "Words to Search and Destroy." Most of these are filter words, and I'll let my Decadent Publishing pub-buddy explain what they are. After this short writing tip break, I'll return you to the main attraction of this post--smoking hot shifters from the Black Hills Wolves series!

P.S. There's a $10 GC up for grabs as part of her tour, so don't forget to scroll all the way to the end to hit up her Rafflecopter!

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Filter out the Filters!

by Celia Breslin

As a reader and a writer, I love to sink deep into a character's POV (point of view) and the story’s action.  Filter words put a layer of separation between the reader and the character/story, so I say: Edit those filter puppies out of your manuscript!

Filter words include:  saw, heard, felt, touched, looked, seemed, noticed, wondered, etc.

Here’s an example…

Filtered:  I saw the thug hit him. I heard his pained cry, and I saw him crash into the wall and slide to the ground. I felt my own heart pound as I...

No Filter:  The thug hit him.  He cried out in pain and crashed into the wall, sliding to the ground. My heart pounded as I...

Jasmine Moon

Black Hills Wolves

by Celia Breslin

Tech mogul and workaholic wolf Evan Luparell has little time for distractions but takes a break for his brother’s wedding in South Dakota. When asked to escort another wedding attendee from the airport to Los Lobos, he agrees. Then he meets the curvy spitfire, and she ignores him.

Designer and wolf Mina Carver didn’t mean to be rude to the handsome, glowering man claiming to be her ride, but she was busy working. Now she must endure a ride to the Black Hills with the cranky but sexy dominant wolf. Unexpected mating energy sparks between them, but still—should she dismiss, or kiss him?

Kisses win and they agree upon a no-strings fling. But with each wedding activity throwing them together, and their powerful chemistry and mate compatibility complicating matters, can two workaholics truly have their fun then walk away?

All Romance | Amazon UK | Amazon US | B&N | Kobo | Bookstrand | Google Play | iTunes | Smashwords | Goodreads

Excerpt

Evan tipped his head and eyed the ceiling. Prompt replies, punctual people. Striking deals and hitting deadlines. These items made his world tick. Not loitering around a miniscule airport pulling a Waiting for Godot moment on infinite repeat for a no-show, flakey designer from California.

God grant him patience and balls of steel when he showed up without the designer and the all-important wedding dress, because his future sister-in-law Darci would certainly be unhappy. He’d have to beg a favor from his assistant, have her snag a couture dress, and fly it ASAP to the Rapid City airport. He could afford a gown from some famous designer in Chicago or New York, something likely superior to whatever his soon-to-be sister-in-law’s no-name friend had created. Right? Shit, he hoped women’s fashion proved so easy.

He took a deep fortifying breath and froze. Airport smells assailed his senses—the sharp tang of bleach and lemon-scented cleaners, the floral perfume from Rental Car Girl who eyed him like a piece of candy. Black coffee, donuts, fried fast food, and under it all, the distinct musk of wolf.

Female wolf.

She smelled damn good. His wolf perked up, and his legs propelled him toward the empty baggage claim, where one bright-pink suitcase covered in Hello Kitty stickers sat, unclaimed, on the unmoving L-shaped conveyor belt. Her scent, stronger here, socked his gut, and his gaze shot to the corner.

The chaos around the woman stunned him silent. Large, paper coffee cup, half-eaten banana, and a quarter of a powdered doughnut perched on a brown paper bag next to her. Crumbs splattered the linoleum and the woman’s long-sleeved blue blouse in a thick layer of white, sugary dust. On her other side, two pink garment bags lay like corpses, along with a bubblegum-pink unzipped duffel as long as her outstretched, denim-clad legs. Some of the bag’s contents—pads of drawing paper and large swaths of fabric—protruded over the opening, the fabric splaying over her legs in a rainbow-colored blanket. Her feet peeked out of the mess, encased in sparkling pink UGGs. Good grief, sequins? She smacked her shiny boots together in a poor imitation of Dorothy and bobbed her head from side to side in time to some music only she seemed to hear. Her shoulder-length red hair, the color of ripe dark cherries—his favorite fruit—gleamed under the harsh airport lighting and curtained most her face from his view, save a pert nose and small chin, both speckled with a generous amount of freckles.

He’d always liked freckles.

Clearing his throat, he stepped closer, but she didn’t flinch in surprise or look up. Her attention remained on the tablet on her lap, the stylus between her pale, freckled fingers swiping without hesitation over her screen. Her extreme focus reminded him of his sister Lexi in one of her artistic frenzies. The resemblance ended there.

While his sister took after the rest of their tall, lean, and tan family, this woman seemed the polar opposite—pale, petite, curvy, and freckled. His preferred type. A flicker of interest stirred in his gut. Did she have those cute little spots on the rest of her? Speckled fur when in her wolf form? His wolf huffed his interest in finding out, but Jasmine the Oblivious Designer didn’t acknowledge his presence.

His fascination faded, replaced by renewed irritation. She damn well should have scented and noticed his wolf by now, and she should have waited at their agreed upon rendezvous point. She should not be sitting on the dirty linoleum of an airport, lost in her work. Didn’t she realize the dangers of ignoring her surroundings?

He positioned himself right in front of her wiggly, booted feet. “Excuse me, J—”

“Sh.” She raised her arm and flicked her hand in the universal get lost gesture.

He gaped at her. “Excuse me?”

Another wave of her hand while her stylus streaked across her tablet screen with the other. “Not interested.”

Nice voice. Low and husky. Her attitude, on the other hand…. “But—”

“Go away.” Her velvet voice carried a stubborn edge.

In other circumstances, he would’ve admired her strength. But he’d wasted copious amounts of time hunting for the clearly inconsiderate and irresponsible female. “Fine. Get your own damn ride to Los Lobos. Jasmine.”

About Celia Breslin

Celia lives in California with her husband, daughter, and two feisty cats. She writes urban fantasy and paranormal romance, and has a particular fondness for werewolves, vampires, and the Fae. Her award-winning vampire series - The Tranquilli Bloodline - is available from Champagne Books.  Jasmine Moon is her third werewolf story (and a stand-alone read!) for Decadent Publishing’s multi-author, shifter line: Black Hills Wolves.

When not writing, you’ll find Celia exercising, reading a good book, hanging with her family, or indulging her addiction to Joss Whedon’s TV shows and movies.

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#WriteTip - Goal, Motivation, and Conflict by @CeliaBreslin, spotlighting her @DecadentPub #Shifter #PNR

Creating compelling characters is the key to a good story. As such, I'm delighted my Decadent Publishing pub-buddy stopped by to give me pointers on characterization. Without further ado, I present Celia Breslin

Characters Need a GMC by Celia Breslin

When creating characters for your story, it’s important for them to have a GMC, aka a Goal, Motivation, and Conflict.

  • Goal:  what does your character want?
  • Motivation: why does your character want it?
  • Conflict:  what stands in your character’s way?

Personally, I like my characters to have two sets of GMC:  internal and external.  Internal GMC is your character’s personal, emotional journey. The external GMC is the plot, the external forces moving your character through the story. The internal and external plots can intertwine.

Here’s an example from one of my books, Diamond Moon.

Meet Darci, a 23-year-old computer nerd and college grad. She’s half human, half wolf shifter.

Internal GMC

  • Goal:  Darci wants a place to belong and someone to love. 
  • Motivation: She’s lonely, having spent her life hiding her true identity.
  • Conflict:  She’s afraid to trust.

External GMC

  • Goal:  Darci wants to find a cure for her life-threatening shifts.
  • Motivation: She almost dies from shifting forms during every full moon.
  • Conflict: She must find and convince shifters to help her.

Happy writing!

xo,

Celia

Diamond Moon

Black Hills Wolves

by Celia Breslin 

Human-wolf hybrid Darci Diamond spends every full moon locked in auntie’s basement in Southern Oregon. Her excruciating shifts terrify her, the last one causing her heart to stop beating. Seeking a cure, she journeys to Los Lobos.

Ross Luparell returns to the struggling Tao pack, using his millions made in the tech industry to build homes for pack families in need. He never imagined he would also find his one true mate. But when a hybrid with the biggest green eyes he’s ever seen lands on his doorstep in the middle of a wicked summer storm, there’s no denying it. She’s the one.

She wants a normal human life, free from pain-filled shifts. He won’t give up on her Wolf, and will do whatever it takes to help her accept her true nature. But can he convince her to trust him with her heart?

Excerpt

He reached out with his Wolf senses. The feedback froze his fingers on the doorknob. Female. Damn, she smelled good. Human. Wolf. Wait…both? The copper tang of blood hit his nose. And injured.

He flung open the door. His abrupt move caught his visitor off guard, one small, white fist raised to knock. The woman startled and fell forward. Catching her, he pulled her inside, kicking the door shut with his foot.

She sagged against him, a shivering bundle of wet woman. Underneath the dampness, her scent drop-kicked his gut. Apples and cinnamon. Roses and honey. His body perked up, taking extreme notice. He fought the growl of possession threatening to tear out of his throat. Holy hell, had his potential mate just walked into his home in the middle of a storm?

The scent of her blood jump-started his brain into action. He lowered her gently to the floor. “Jesus. You okay?”

His instincts urged him to check her for wounds, but he was a stranger and didn’t want to spook her. But goddamn, he wanted to touch her. Peel off her wet clothes. See all of her. With a jacket covering her torso, tight jeans hiding her legs, and her ball cap pulled low on her face, all he’d seen so far was her quivering pale chin, full red lips, and those delicate, trembling hands.

“S-s-sorry, d-dripping all ov-v-ver your f-f-floor,” she said, teeth chattering. Her snow white fingers curled on the hardwood, arms trembling with her effort to keep herself upright. Blood streaked the wood. A line of liquid crimson slid down her jaw and dripped from her chin onto her jacket.

To hell with propriety. “You’re injured. Let me help you.” He pulled off her cap and damn near swallowed his tongue.

Big green eyes blinked up at him from a face so pale it made him think of moonlight. Drenched, short black hair lay plastered to her head, the ends framing features reminiscent of the fairies his sister loved to draw for the hidden-object games she designed. Ethereal beauty. My beauty. He stroked a knuckle down her cheek then ran his thumb over her soft, full lower lip.

She flinched and batted his hand away, falling to her side in the process.

Ross snapped back to reality with a healthy hit of guilt. “Shit. Sorry.”

His gaze shot to her forehead where a two-inch cut sent blood trailing over her prominent cheekbone with its silky-smooth skin he’d so enjoyed caressing—

Shit. He gave himself a mental ass kicking for scaring her. “I’m Ross. You’re safe here. Promise.”

About Celia Breslin

Celia lives in California with her husband, daughter, and two feisty cats. She writes urban fantasy and paranormal romance, and has a particular fondness for werewolves, vampires, and the Fae. When not writing, you’ll find Celia exercising, reading a good book, hanging with her family, or indulging her addiction to Joss Whedon’s TV shows and movies.

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