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Cora Blu, do you Pinterest?

by on October 25, 2013

Do you have a favorite color?

I have two colors, and yes I use Pinterest.

Green and purple

.Chloe Rush. Art Gallery owner. Romantic interest of "Max" Atlantic's Botanist

I used Pinerest to indulge my obsession for purple and showcased a heroine I gave purple, black and pink hair to in my fantasy paranormal novella, Max.

Her hero, Max, has skin the shade of vanilla ice cream and brown hair with burgundy low lights. Built like a rock star with corded muscles rippling along his lean form he’s dangerously sexy. He’s also a suspected spy, because he comes from banned waters. The Indian Ocean.

Chloe, full figured and the only marine shifter that wears clothes as the humans, she was his distraction. If I ever write a wedding scene for them I have several inspirations now.

Check out my Pinterest board and get inspired to make your own obsession board.  My daughter made the character card for Chloe.

Authors if you write fantasy, drop me a line and I’ll add you to my group page for fantasy cover and art.

Enjoy the purple ride. My shifter world is in the ocean.

An excerpt from Max: (Chloe’s ex-boyfriend, tries to down play Max at every turn because he is octopus. No one’s ever seen an octopus shifter in the Atlantic. Max is questioning Chloe in the back office of the science lab where he works as a botanist.)

“Before we go back out those doors”—he indicated behind her—“I need a promise from you.”

“A promise?”

“If there’s anything you want to know about me, you’ll ask me.”

“Anything?” Her tone was disbelieving. Everything that could stretch and grow on his body did. He fought the urge to adjust himself.


“Can you grow… Sterling roses? I can’t find them in the stores. I’m sure you’ve seen them, they’re a silvery lavender color.”

He held a piece of her black, lavender and pink hair to the light, turning it back and forth. Her hips fit nicely in the palm of his other hand as he held her close pressing his legs still farther apart. “If my eyes begin to glow, it will be your fault,” he said, smoothing a hand down the silk dress covering her generous hip. “Sterling roses, Chloe?” he questioned, because out of everything she could have asked him, she chose botany. “That’s your question?”

“What did you think I was going to ask?”

“Not about work…”

“You asked. They make a stunning backdrop with black or white sculptures in my gallery. And I read somewhere they carry a spicy scent—masculine, much like your scent.”

He would grow the damned flowers just to cover the bed in the petals, lay her onyx skin against them to watch her writhe over them as he tasted her.

“When do you need these—Sterling Roses?” he teased her.

“Whenever you can squeeze them into your schedule.”

He laughed. “It may be a few years before you see a bloom. Can you wait?”

He could hear shuffling outside the office.

She pouted and a hint of pale pink showed from her bottom lip—wet and glistening. “Why?” her voice a groan.

“It’s a hybrid tea,”


“I have to graft it onto another strong roses root stock, a variety like blaze.” He motioned her back and got down on one knee, and then took hold of her calf. “Let me explain. Your calf is the strong root stock,” he began, brushing a hand over the back of her thigh. “Your thigh is the hybrid tea.” He closed a hand over her knee cap. “This would be where I would graft the stem to the root until roots grew and held them together as one.” He cast a long glance up her body. “If the Sterling dies down to the roots, it will come back the following season as whatever the strong root was—no longer a Sterling. It takes time.”

“Please get up, Max.”

He cantered his head, eyeing her skin. “Your calves sparkle.”

“It’s lotion. Stand up.”

“That sparkles?”

“Yes,” she said bashfully. “If Dirk were to walk in, or worse, the queen, and you on your knees, hand on my thigh…” She pressed his shoulders.

“They would leave. Is there something else you would like me to do while I’m down here? Apply more lotion?”

“You are embarrassing me.” Her hands were flat over the dress on her thighs, pressing it down. “Get up,” she groaned.

He got to his feet. Her pupils dilated leaving a thin ring of lavender pink. He’d flustered her.

“I will wait for the roses.” She adjusted the small purse on her shoulders he hadn’t noticed before. She frowned and twisted her mouth before she said, “That was dirty, Max and you know it. Sometimes I wonder if your reserved nature is a front you use to seduce women.”

“It is an option, not one I’ve employed.”


Now go an indulge in your favorite color.

Sincerely, Cora Blu.

Max is available in kindle, nook and @ ARe







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