Summertime Trivia!

If I hear one more time, "Hot enough for ya?" I might scream. Yes, it's hot--it's summertime and it's July! I know parts of our nation and world experience milder, wetter summers, but here in Texas--it's always hot and usually dry. This doesn't bother me as much as it might some others--I just stay in the air conditioning and chill out--literally. It's just that I don't wish to talk about it all the time, nor do I want to answer inane questions. So, what do you do when it's too hot for comfort? I spent one entire afternoon Googling "summertime." I'd like to share some of my treasure finds.

THE SONG: SUMMERTIME. The only version I knew of was from Porgy and Bess: Summertime…and the livin’ is easy, Fish are jumpin’…And the cotton is high;
Oh, your daddy’s rich…and your mama’s good-lookin’, So hush little
baby…don’t you cry.
From Porgy and Bess, a 1935 opera by George Gershwin. Complete cast consisted of African-American singers; a daring visionary artistic choice at the time.

However, when I Googled “Summertime”, the song,”I found other artists had written and sung a song by the same title, but each was completely different from the original. Summertime-- other versions by Kenny Chesney, Mungo Jerry, Will Smith, New Kids on the Block, Beyonce, and Janis Joplin. You can imagine how each of these differ. Ella Fitzgerald recorded her version of the original Summertime. The song is a haunting, lovely, sad, and wonderful tune. It can bring tears to your eyes.

MOVIES about summertime: (Not summertime movies.)

THE LONG HOT SUMMER-1958. Paul Newman and Joanne Woodward. A classic. A drifter works for a plantation owner. The owner asks the drifter to marry his up-tight schoolteacher daughter so she wouldn’t marry the worthless, lazy, rich man who was her fiancé. The owner thought the drifter would work harder.
The love scenes sizzled because Paul Newman and Joanne Woodard were having a real-life romance, and their passion really shone through.

CAT ON A HOT TIN ROOF: 1958. Paul Newman and Elizabeth Taylor. Another classic, again, set in the Deep South. Based on a play by Tennessee Williams. This manuscript has been performed countless times on the stage. Sex, lies, suicide, illness, and a failing marriage keep this movie moving. But Paul Newman and Elizabeth Taylor never clicked.

PICNIC: Kim Novak and William Holden. 1955. Plot covers a 24-hour period, Labor Day picnic, Kansas. A richly detailed snapshot of life in the American Midwest during the 1950’s. ***** My all-time favorite summertime movie. I don’t know how many times I’ve watched it, and if it came on one of the classic channels, I’d watch it again. It’s filled with angst, heartbreak, and yearnings—culminated with an ending you might only suppose will be happy. These two major stars are superb.


SUMMERTIME RECIPES:
Check out these websites for summertime recipes. You can find dozens on Google. I thought you might enjoy these.
http://southernfood.about.com/od/specialoccasions/ss/summertime.htm

http://www.recipezaar.com/cookbook.php?bookid=31935

http://recipes.kaboose.com/seasonal/summer-recipes/summer-recipes.html

http://summerrecipes.net/


Celia Yeary
http://www.celiayeary.com/
http://www.celiayeary.blogspot.com/
http://groups.yahoo.com/group/thebookspa
http://twrpcactusrose.blogspot.com/
ALL MY HOPES AND DREAMS-a Cactus Rose—
eBook and print available at: http://www.thewildrosepress.com/
Print also available from Amazon or B&N

Rhonda Parrish Blogs On Her Many "Hats"

I don't like hats. I've never found one that looks good on me, never, and believe me, I've looked. So yeah, not a fan. That means when someone says to me 'You wear a lot of hats' part of me cringes. What they are saying is true, I am a very busy person who fills a lot of roles…I just don't like the hats thing.

My daughter did a report earlier this fall that said I was a good example of someone who was balanced because I had a lot of 'life items'. I was flattered, and I hope she's right, but ya know, the term 'life items' isn't very pithy and just sort of reeks of high school health class to me. (Anyone remember CALM class? *grins and then gets back on topic*).

So, hats and life items aside, the point I should be making here is one I already mentioned – I'm very busy and in many different roles. I'm a mother, wife, student, editor, writer, volunteer, writing group moderator, etc. etc. plus I have a part-time 'day job'. Each of those things comes with a subset of occupations too. Let's take being a writer for example. As a writer I need to find time to write (duh?), revise, revise some more, submit my work, promote published work and revise some more. Even those tasks have sub categories. For example promoting my work involves guest blogging, social networking (Twitter, Facebook, Blogs), emailing, soliciting reviews, doing interviews, etc. etc.

I'm not alone.

I know many people in this business who have even more 'hats' or 'life items' than I do.

So how do you balance everything? Or, more to the point, how do I?

Everyone seems to have a different system. Mine keeps evolving, which I think is good. Change is necessary to avoid stagnation and as my life situation changes necessity says so must my organizational system.

For me the most important things are my calendar and my to-do list. The calendar makes sure I don't over-schedule myself and the to-do list helps keep me focused on the jobs at hand. That is vital because without the red items on my To-Do list staring up at me from my ipod I could easily become distracted and wander off to surf my friends-of-friends Facebook pictures.


When I wrote Sister Margaret my system was a calendar and a very strict routine. Client work in the morning until 11, a work out before lunch, then writing for an hour followed by revising for an hour…you get the idea. Every minute was scripted from the time I took my daughter to school until I picked her up again afterward.

Things change. I could no longer function under so strict a system, but it served its purpose once upon a time.

What's your system?

I'm always looking for ways to improve mine and I'm sure lots of other people are, after all, people are busier than ever these days and anything that helps us work smarter or save time has got to be counted as a good thing.

Incidentally, if you happen to find yourself with fifteen empty minutes and you'd like to fill them, I can recommend a great little story. It's called Sister Margaret and it's about a vampire hunter and a half-incubus swordsman who are hired to take care of an undead pimp… ;)

Sister Margaret
Published by Eternal Press
Available at Fictionwise
http://www.fictionwise.com/eBooks/eBook86416.htm
Rhonda Parrish
http://www.rhondaparrish.com/

Please Welcome Fellow Author KIMBERLY ALAN!

Hello Everyone,

My name is Kimberly Peterson and I write inspirational romances as Kimberly Alan. Don’t be surprised if you don’t recognize my name. I’m a newbie, who’s been around forever. More about that a bit later. First and foremost I want to sincerely thank Jennie for giving me this first opportunity to introduce myself to you, her readers.

Why am I a newbie? Because my first inspirational romantic mystery, TRUTHS UNVEILED, was released on May 15, 2009 by White Rose Publishing. (Yeah!) Then why do I say I’ve been around forever? Because I started this story back in 1989!! In other words, I guess you can say I’m the poster person for the phrase: Never Give Up!

Furthermore, ladies, time flies. Very fast. In the midst of raising a family, working as a divorce lawyer and a writer, and simply attending to life and all of its curve balls, the seconds, minutes, days, weeks and years speed by, often without us realizing it. I always thought I knew this and yet it never really hit home until about two years ago. I had entered TRUTHS UNVEILED in a writing contest and though I didn’t win, what stood out most was a comment by one of the judges. She circled a sentence in the entry where my heroine was driving a Chevy Blazer. She then very kindly reminded me that few if any Chevy Blazers are still on the road. And she was certain they were not being used as rental cars. Good grief. How right she was. Then I looked at my eight and nine year old daughters and realized that the story was nearly double their ages! That, as they say, was that. This book was getting finished. No matter what. Six month later, White Rose offered me a contract. So, if there is anything that you’ve ever wanted to do ladies, do it. It’s never too late.

Now, finally, I find myself at the next chapter of this writing journey: Promotion and Reviews. Yikes! As my dear friend, Lori Avocato, reminded me, no matter how good a story might be, it won’t get read if readers didn’t know about it! Of course I knew that. It’s basic common sense. Plus I had attended my share of writing conferences over the years and eagerly assisted fellow writers in promoting their work. And yet, I can still recall the exact moment my overworked brain comprehended the reality of that fact. My jaw dropped. My eyes widened. And my palms started to sweat. Oh no! People are going to read this? I thought back to how I painstakingly selected and re-selected, edited and re-edited every word of this story for nearly two decades. To say that I was invested in the work is an understatement, to be sure. Over and over, my inner voice cried out in panic: What if they don’t like it?

Okay. I knew I needed to breathe and take a step back to look at the situation objectively. So I did. Like many avid readers and writers, I discovered the joy of storytelling very early on. And writing felt very therapeutic as well. But back then, I wrote for myself only, in diaries that were hidden in various locations of my bedroom. It wasn’t until law school, and then as a clerk for the Connecticut Appellate Court, that I realized my writing might be appreciated by a larger audience. I thought back to my teenage memories and my high school crush. He was older than me and very tied to the small community I’d moved to in ninth grade. Then I recalled the tragic car accident that killed two students. The young driver was injured but survived. And then there were rumors of a marriage that was hastily arranged because of an unexpected pregnancy. From those memories I realized that we all have situations in our lives that play a large part in determining our futures. I also know that many times, situations are not as they first seem. With this in mind, and a lot of “what if” scenarios, TRUTHS UNVEILED, became a story I believe we can all relate to. Briefly, here it is:

Heroine, Pam Harrington, is in her thirties now, and an emergency department physician in a large city. She met hero, Tom Jarrod, years earlier when she was a newcomer to a small, rural high school. A once in a lifetime romance started to blossom toward the end of her senior year but ended abruptly when Pam was severally injured in a car accident after learning that Tom’s former girlfriend was pregnant with his child. Fast forward to the present. Both Pam and Tom are single now and she receives a fantastic offer to return to that small town to work at a new, state of the art, medical center. Painful memories, guilt and unanswered questions about the accident still hover in Pam’s heart, causing her to decline the offer. Meanwhile, Tom, though struggling in his relationship with his ex-wife and children, is determined to make a fresh start with Pam, if she will let him. Then they realize that someone is even more determined to make Pam stay away. In fact, they will do everything necessary, including murder, to see that she does.

To my great relief, I received a wonderful review of TRUTHS UNVIELED from You Gotta Read Reviews. To quote: “This book is a thrilling roller coaster from the first chapter…. Pam and Tom are fantastic characters and you are rooting for their relationship from the very beginning, yet there are many obstacles along the way… This is definitely a fabulous story that keeps you on the edge of your seat and finishes with an explosive unexpected ending.”

Thank you Vivienne.

I hope you will all agree and enjoy reading about Pam and Tom’s adventure as they maneuver through the curveballs of life. And remember: It’s never too late to be who we want to be, and do what we want to do.

Blessings to you all!!

TRUTHS UNVEILED is available in print or as a download at www.Whiterosepublishing.com, or through Amazon, Borders and Barnes and Noble.

Kimberly Alan, also known as Kimberly Peterson, grew up in Bordentown and then Lambertville, New Jersey. Like many avid readers and writers, she discovered their joys early on. After high school, she moved to Massachusetts to attend college. To her surprise, law school followed. She and her family now live in Connecticut where she has been a divorce lawyer for several years. In addition to writing romance, she has published two legal textbooks published for paralegals and new lawyers. Currently, she is developing a blog about the ups, downs, ins and outs of relationships, gleaned from all her years as a divorce attorney, romance writer and from performing weddings as a Justice of the Peace. Readers can reach her at Kimberlyalan.author@gmail.com

Please Welcome the Authors From The First Turning Point!

I'm Jacquie Rogers, a Co-captain of 1st Turning Point, and author of two books and a few short stories. I'd like to start off by thanking Jenny Gilliam for having me here today. Thanks, Jenny!

1st Turning Point was born when three writing buddies decided to share what they'd learned about promotion as they sailed the treacherous waters to publication.

I'll quote the explanation from the About Us page:

Thanks for stopping by 1st Turning Point, a fun place for writers to teach, share, and learn about that first turning point in your career—self-promotion and marketing. The story of your career opens with the decision to write a book, the inciting incident is learning the craft and writing that first piece. But what comes next is just as important if you plan to become a career novelist. It’s your first turning point.

These days, we need to begin building an ‘author presence’ before signing that first contract if we want to sell enough books to win another contract. No longer can we wait to start selling ourselves until we have a book coming out. We have to start while we have the time to prepare physically and financially for the promotional marathon to come. 1st Turning Point is a home for all writers, but especially those who are unpublished, newly published, self-published, e-published, orphaned, small-press published, etc. Whether you write novels, short stories, lyrics, or poetry, we’re here for you. Come inside and take a look around, read some of the helpful articles, see what online and live classes/workshops are coming your way soon, check out the beneficial list of resources, and share some of your own experiences and wisdom with others.

We had some fabulous prizes during our debut month of May, and we'll continue our month-long tradition but offering more prizes in June. To enter to win June's Grand Prize, all you have to do is subscribe.

More importantly than prizes, we have an awesome Crew and a terrific lineup of articles. Some of May's articles include:

• Let’s Talk About Platforms by Ann Charles
• Promote that Book! by Lillian Cauldwell
• Marketing: The Basic Concept (WIIFM) by Jacquie Rogers
• Be Shameless by John Klawitter
• Foolproof Secret #33 by John Klawitter
• Francesca Prescott: How She Scored Two Magazine Interviews
• Life. Change. Adventure by Leanne Shawler
• What Do You Mean I Need a Platform? by Wendy Delaney
• Independent Reviewers Do It by the Book: Crystal Adkins
• Seize the Book by Amber: Hooked by Amber Scott

We're excited about June's articles, too. Here's what we slotted:

• June 1: Leanne Shawler--Why an Unpublished Author Should Go to Conferences
• June 3: Rowena Cherry--LinkedIn
• June 5: Ann Charles--Promotion for the Unpublished: Are You Really Ready to Begin?
• June 8: Robert W. Walker--Going for the Blogosphere!—Online Opp in Marketing and Promo
• June 10: Amber Scott Reviews
• June 12: Eilis Flynn--TBA
• June 15: Interview with Twitter King Solomon Sonaria
• June 17: Judith Laik--Entering the World of Promotion, Part 1
• June 18: Judith Laik--Entering the World of Promotion, Part 2
• June 19: Lillian Cauldwell--Advertising Basics
• June 22: Gerri Russell--TBA
• June 26: Deborah Schneider--Librarian of the Year
• June 29: Shelli Stevens--Share the Love

We're considering a weekly contest for commenters, but you'll have to come to the site to see if that happens.

I hope you'll join us. We've had great turnout and are growing faster than expected, so you won't want to miss anything!

1st Turning Point
Contact: 1st Turning Point

Speaking of contests, to enter to win a Down Home Ever Lovin' Mule Blues baseball cap, all you do is make a comment. Easy Peasy! Winner will be selected one week from today.

Jacquie Rogers

Down Home Ever Lovin' Mule Blues (See the Book Video featuring Justin Saragueta)
Jacquie Rogers *** Myspace *** Twitter *** Facebook
Faery Special Romances * Book Video * Royalties go to Children's Tumor Foundation, ending Neurofibromatosis through Research

AUTHOR SPOTLIGHT: E. JAMIE

Please welcome fellow RWR member E. Jamie for our very first Romance Writer's in the Rough Author Spotlight!

1.) Hi, Nancy. Why don't you introduce yourself and tell us a little about you.

Thanks for having me today! I write erotic romance as E. Jamie (www.ejamie.net) for Amira Press (www.amirapress.com) and I'm also a full time freelance writer, working from home which I love because I'm able to have time to work on my fiction as well as my freelance assignments!

2.) Where do you live? Do you like it?

I live in Toronto, Canada and I really do love it. I'm very much a city girl and Toronto is sort of the Candian NYC. I'd love to have a summer cottage or little vacation house in the country to get away from it all every once in a while but I definitely need to live in the city. I need the noise and vibrancy of it.

3.) What's currently on your iPod/mp3 player/cd player?

Right now I'm listening to the new version of Hallelujah by Alexandre Burke. I love that song in all its version but that one is my new favorite. It's just so big and powerful! I have a mix of songs as my tastes really run the gamut from Classical to Country. I can't write in silence so it's either the TV or music I'm listening to. Maybe this is a sign I'm getting older but lately I find it easier to write to classical or instrumental music. Anything without lyrics. Movie soundtracks are fantastic to write to! Used to be lyrics didn't bother me but now they can sometimes distract me. (sighs) Yep, I'm getting on up there, I think.

4.) Describe a typical (or non-typical) writing day?

I had my first non-writing day in months this past Sunday as I had finished edits on my upcoming release Till Death Do Us Part so I decided that day that I was going to do nothing! Just fiddle around on line and do some reading. Then of course Monday came and I got sick. I am not a fan of irony. I used to have an outside day job so I had trained myself to write in the late afternoon/early evening. Now, I still find that easiest for me. I am sooo not a morning person so I spent the first half of the day doing e-mail stuff, catching up on blogs and promo stuff and then around 2 or so, I pull up the current WIP and get to it.

5.) Do you go by goals? Weekly? Daily? Monthly?

With my latest WIP, We'll Meet Again I worked for 5 pages a day and managed to finish it in about 3 months. I wasn't sure if that was fast or slow but with 350+ pages at the end of I was told that's pretty good. That's usually the page count I try and hit on a WIP, 5 pages a day, sometimes it works, sometimes I don't. Life happens. I don't really set goals beyond the day to day writing wise. I just take it one day at a time. But I'll do that with the works themselves. For example, my last release Redemption hit #3 on my publisher's bestseller list, so my goal with my current release Play ground Of The Gods is to have it hit number one. Next year a goal will be to have one of my books on bookstore shelves.

6.) What's your favorite setting from one of your novels and why?

Oh that has to be Texas in my novella Redemption. One word: cowboys!

7.) What advice would you give any new writers just starting out?

There's the famous BIC (Butt In Chair) but I also say MYA (Move Your Ass) Get our there and submit! Keep submitting because there will always be a place for your work. Rejection is just a part of the game and I truly believe the only unsuccessful writers are the ones who quit and stopped submitting.

8.) What are you working on at the moment?

Right now I am taking a break between WIP's as I've just finished a WW2 romance called We'll Meet Again. It involves an American nurse and an English soldier and I'm hoping to get that published by either Harlequin Spice or Harlequin Historicals. Keeping my fingers crossed.

9.) Are you a panster? A planner? A planster? Which method works best for you? Why?

I'm very much a planner. (Plantser?)(laughs) I can't imagine not knowing exactly what was going to happen when I sit down to write. Though of course, surprises happen that take me in new direction but the basic storyline stays the same. Does that make me a plantser then?

10.) Any new releases coming up?

Well my current release with Amira Press is a sci-fi/futuristic paranormal called Playground Of The Gods and I have Till Death Do Us Part coming out tentatively on June 5th with Amira in ebook and it will also come out soon after in print! It'll be my first print release and I am very excited about that!

Visit E. Jamie's Websites at:

http://ejamie.net

http://freelancewritingservices.net

Guest Blogger: Author Jannine Corti Petska

Story ideas: Where do they come from?

My inspiration for my stories comes from many different sources. I'm a people watcher. The little nuances and mannerisms of the human being are fascinating. In any given situation, three people will react differently. Depending on the personality of my characters, molding them after a real person gives them life and makes them believable.

Newspapers are a fountain of information. Whether a tidbit or a full-blown story, I'll clip it and store it away. How often have you seen tv dramas announce "ripped from the headlines?" Quite often, fact is more unbelievable than fiction. It can give your story an edge, lifting it above a traditional plot line.

For me, many story ideas and character studies come from life's experiences. The plot for a book I co-wrote in the 80s was molded after an incident that happened to me when I was eighteen. Many writers draw from their past, present or what they see in their future. A fertile mind is a blessing. Coupled with the ability to observe the world around you, it's one of the best sources of inspiration for any work of fiction.

While inspiration comes in many forms and from many places, there is one that I cherish the most: my husband. His encouragement has allowed me to create. He and my children have motivated me to do what is in my heart. From the first story I wrote over twenty years ago to my present release, they have believed in me. Through my struggle to become published, they never told me to quite. And the times I was discouraged, they were there to lift my spirits, enabling me to write.

My present release, CARINA AND THE NOBLEMAN, is the first book of the Sisters of Destiny trilogy about three psychic sisters separated at birth. It takes place in Northern Italy in 1425. Book two, CHARLOTTE AND THE GYPSY, which I am presently writing, takes place in a Gypsy camp in Andalusia, Spain. Book three, CALLIE AND THE KNIGHT, takes place near London.

CARINA is available in ebook and print.

Reviewers Pick!

Carina and the Nobleman by Jannine Corti Petska

Genre: Medieval Romance

Pages:227

Price: $6.95

Rating: This story touched me. I absolutely loved it. I loved Carina's strength, endurance, and faith to continue with her mission to find her family. She was a very funny character as well as she dealt with her duties to Count Luciano about adding to her time that she would have to serve him. From start to finish it was a story that I did not want to end. Now I am wondering if there is more to come from this story. I would love to read more if there is! Those who love fairy tale romances must read Carina and the Nobleman!

Blurb:

Forced to the streets after her mother dies, Carina Gallo is desperate to survive and find her long lost sisters. Consumed with locating his missing brother, Count Luciano has forsaken his needs. When he catches beautiful and vulnerable Carina stealing from him, he takes pity and cares for her until she's strong enough to work off her crime. Carina is forever grateful to Luciano, yet fears he will learn of her wicked secret and condemn her to burn. Will Luciano and Carina find a way to feed the mutual passions they share, or will heresy and obsession with lost family destroy them both?Excerpt:

After Carina steals food from his tavern, Luciano rescues her from starvation and takes her to his home to get healthy and to work off her crime. This is the first meeting where he tries to learn who she is. His manservant has fallen ill, and his upstairs maid is also showing signs of becoming sick.

“Did you come here to ply your trade?”
“And what trade might that be, my lord?”
He forced himself to remain rooted to the floor else he’d throttle the
outspoken wench. “Are you a strumpet?”
His directness caused her to blush. She wasn’t unshakable after all.
“I fear you have misjudged me, Count Ruggero.”
“Then from where did you come? And I’ll have a straightforward
answer.”
She dropped her hands to the folds of the silk gown. To hide her
nervousness over speaking of her past? Luciano wondered.
“I worked for the Baldovini,” she replied.
His eyes bore into her. Carina read his suspicion.
"If you do not believe me, send someone to the Baldovini to inquire
about me,” she openly challenged. “I spent the whole of my life on their
lands, working the fields these four years past.”
He set his goblet down gently and moved closer. “You were a
laborer?”
She nodded but couldn’t speak with the count standing but a long
stride away. His imposing presence commanded attention. Were she not
a pauper and he a count, she’d assuredly lure him into a kiss, as
improper as it might be. It wouldn’t be an unpleasant experience, she’d
wager. The only kiss she’d ever received from a man had been from the
lecherous, slobbering Signor Baldovini. He had cornered her and tried to
snatch more than just a kiss. Miseria! She still cringed from the horrible
memory.
“The Baldovini employ only men and boys to work their fields,” the
count pointed out.
“Signora Baldovini did not allow me to work in her private
residence.”
He stepped closer. So close, Carina smelled the clean scent from his
morning bath and the faint fragrance of wine on his breath. Her heart’s
pace quickened.
“Why would the signora forbid you from her home?”
“Truth be told, Signor Baldovini had an eye for me. The signora told
my mother I tempted her husband. Mamma knew better, for Signor
Baldovini has an eye for all women and has many bastard children.”
The count’s cheeks lined with shallow dimples when he suppressed a
smile at her directness. Carmine Baldovini’s illegitimate children were a
well-known fact, one his wife continually denied.
“Did you tempt him?”
Carina cocked her head and tightened her mouth.
“I will take your silence as an affirmation.”
“No!” she exploded, unduly put out by his judgment of her character.
“I did not tempt him, and I am not a strumpet. I am still a vir—” Her lips
slammed together.
Pleased to hear her virtue remained intact, Luciano took another step
forward. His pulse hastened and suddenly he desired to touch Carina’s
cheek, to know if it was as preciously smooth as it looked. “Why are you
no longer working for the Baldovini?”
He was not prepared for the sadness flooding her features. He
gentled his demeanor.
“My mother died four months past. Signora Baldovini demanded I
leave at once. I had no where to go but the streets.”
The directness of her gaze captured his. Not weak in courage by any
means, she hadn’t looked away when she replied. Gesu, how could he
allow her to pluck his heartstrings as she did? He felt her sorrow and
wished he could comfort her. Sorrow he knew all about. But where did
the need to hold her come from?
“And still a virgin. You are fortunate.”
“Mayhap.” She shifted her stance. “I am certain you did not bid me
here to discuss my virtue.”
His gut constricted again. “Maiden, you’d do well to mind your place
in my presence. And that includes your impulsive tongue.”
“Sì, my lord.” Contrite, but nonetheless acceptable.
“I shall leave you in Sandra’s care. Once you have attained a more
substantial…a healthier look about you,” he said carefully when her
head tilted, “you’ll tend to my chamber.” So much for keeping her at a
distance. “That means seeing to my laundry and cleaning my chamber
and reading room, the same in which you sleep. You will also mend my
garments. Marcello carries my meals up when I am in no mood to dine
downstairs. So too, he lays out the clothes I wish to wear and sees to my
grooming.”
“Your pardon, count. Am I to clean your chamber pot as well?”
His tone clipped, he replied, “I use the garderobe.”
“And your bath?”
She wouldn’t ask if she knew the road his mind drifted down. The
scrawny wench teased his lust into awakening yet again, and the day
was still new. “That, angel, I shall take care of myself, with help from my
manservant.”
Was that relief he saw flitter across her face?
“Then I agree to the duties you have stated.”
“Agree?” He couldn’t hide his disbelief. “Agree?” he repeated,
closing the gap between them. Looming above her, forcing her to tilt her
head to see his face, he wondered if she was a fool or just naïve. She
didn’t even attempt to move away. Any other woman would have
cowered back.
“Sì, agree.”
“There is naught for you to agree to. You are working off a debt. Your
service to me is your punishment for stealing.”
“It is, my lord.”
She relented. Luciano became suspicious.
“How long must I work to pay my debt, for I barely ate enough to
warrant a lengthy punishment. And I did lose it all, do you not recall?”
Her reasoning askew, he realized he could reprimand her until the
morrow and she’d not tone down her carelessly spoken words. Had she
lost sight of the fact she had committed a crime? It mattered not how
much she stole. Or that she’d lost it shortly after eating.
A firm knock interrupted their meeting. Agitated, Luciano barked,
“Enter.”
Sandra rushed in, her cheeks flushed, her face wrought with worry.
“Beg your pardon, Count Ruggero. Please forgive me for not
accompanying Signorina Gallo.”
He nodded, though he was concerned. Except for the warm color on
her cheeks, she appeared as if standing was a chore. Her rapid breathing
confused him, and he would have addressed her health if he knew she
was prone to illness. But Sandra and Marcello hadn’t been sick a day
since they came to work at the manor.
“Our meeting is over,” he said and slid his gaze to the wench. “Get to
the kitchen for food. The first order will be to fatten you up. For that I
shall add a new debt for you to work off.”
He glared at her to keep her from speaking another cursed retort.
“I do not run a room and board here.”
“Count Ruggero—”
“Not another word.”
“But I must—”
He clamped his hand over her mouth but her lips continued to move,
tickling his palm. “Be damned, woman. Must I tie a cloth around your
mouth to silence you?”
“If you must…” She swept past him, her head held erect, and glided
toward the open door. Her gracefulness contributed to the appearance of
her floating on air. No commoner had he ever seen walk as regally as she
did.
His fingers twitched, his entire body tensed. As he watched her walk
away, a strange feeling settled in the pit of his stomach. About to turn his
back to her, he paused when she called his name and faced him with a
tantalizing grin, which renewed the tingling in his groin.
“You cannot fatten me up, count. I am thin by nature.”
Blasted wench! He slammed the door then miserably adjusted the
swell in his hose.

Please visit my website to read the first chapter of CARINA AND THE NOBLEMAN www.jcortipetska.com.
ebook available at http://www.eternalpress.ca/carinaandthenobleman.html

print available at Amazon.comhttp://www.amazon.com/s/ref=nb_ss_b_2_6?url=search-alias%3Dstripbooks&field-keywords=carina+and+the+nobleman&sprefix=Carina&sprefix=Carina&sprefix=Carina
Book trailer at http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rERylu_39XA

Thank you Jenny for having me as your guest blogger today.

Western Romance author-Celia Yeary

ALL I REALLY NEED TO KNOW
I refer to a small book written in 1986—most of you out there were babies—by Robert Fulghum. His offering hit the big time, #1 Best Seller in that decade, and it is the simplest book you’ve ever seen. The full title is All I Really Need to Know I Learned in Kindergarten. Hoping that Mr. Fulghman—in case he reads Jenny’s blog every day—will allow me to quote him, here is his list of important things to learn.
1. Share everything
2. Play fair
3. Don’t hit people
4. Put things back where you found them
5. Clean up your own mess
6. Don’t take things that aren’t yours
7. Say you’re sorry when you hurt somebody
8. Wash your hands before you eat
9. Flush
10. Warm cookies and cold milk are good for you
11. Live a balanced life—learn, think, draw, paint, sing, dance, play, and work
12. Take a nap every afternoon
13. When you go out into the world, watch out for traffic, hold hands, stick together
14. Wonder
15. Everything dies. So do we.
16. Remember the biggest word from the Dick-and-Jane books-LOOK

Of all these suggestions, which one hits closest to home?

Me? I can get through #6-easy-peasy. But there’s #7. This is a stickler. I don’t go around hurting people intentionally, and I do believe I’m kind enough that I rarely do. But if I inadvertently hurt someone’s feelings, would I know it? And what would I do about it? On to #8-#16. Those aren’t too difficult. Especially “take a nap every afternoon.” That one’s a snap.

Back to #7.
As I pondered this, I concluded that we always hurt the one we love, the one who is closest to our heart—our spouse or SO, our best friend, someone who thought she was your friend but you didn’t treat her that way, your child, your sister, your next door neighbor.
Why do I mention this? Romance stories. Now, you knew I’d get around to romance novels, eventually, didn’t you? Isn’t this our common tie on this blog? What is the formula for a good love story? The H/H meet; they fall in love; they hurt one another in some way (you cannot guarantee smooth sailing in a romance), the H/H reconcile and apologize. And they lived HEA.Ta-da!

My computer is jam-packed with manuscripts. Fortunately, three have found success. As I sit here and think of all this writing I’ve done, in every case and every plot, someone gets hurt. My job as the author is to reconcile the pair. Now. The next time you’re stuck with writer’s block, remember #7. While you’re at it, remember #10, 11, 12, and 14. Those should help you along your journey. You are, after all, a writer.
***********
All My Hopes and Dreams-a Western Historical Romance set in 1880 Texas. By Celia Yeary
Excerpt: hurt feelings

“Consuelo, where is my Mrs. Romero? I told her to clean up, but I can’t find her.”

“Why, she is over to her little house, sir. You know, where her belongings are. She said she would go draw water from the well and bathe. Her clothes are there.”

The situation finally dawned on him. “Damn!” he said, and stalked out the door and across the open expanse to the third little house from the end.

When he walked in, she was nowhere to be found. He looked in the lean-to on the back. The round galvanized tub there had about two inches of water in it. He saw her approaching the back door, carrying a bucket of well water with both hands. She was struggling.

“Hell, Cynthia. What do you think you’re doing?”

She stared at him for only a moment; then she tossed the bucket as far as she could, which was only a very short distance, and water splashed out and onto her boots. She glared at him. Her blood obviously boiling as she yelled. “What do you think? I’m drawing water for my bath. And it’s…da…darn hard! And look at what you made me do. You made me drop my bucket. You…you sorry excuse for a husband.”

Before his very eyes, she dropped to the ground and bent double with her head in the dirt. She began to sob uncontrollably and pounded the ground with one fist. “I hate you!”

“Whoa, whoa,” he said very gently, as he hunkered down in front of her. He reached for her and pulled her up as he stood. “Up you go, now.” His arms encircled her and he pushed her head to his shoulder. “Shhh, now sweetheart. I’m sorry, so sorry. Shhh, don’t cry now. I’ll make it all better. Now come with me.”

She looked so tired, so spent. How could he have allowed so much to go wrong in such a little time? She was right. He wasn’t doing his part.

“I’m sorry, too, Ricardo,” she whispered. “I just don’t know what to do. I don’t know where I belong anymore.”

“I’ll show you. First, you’re coming home, to the house, your real home. Not this little cabin. You won’t live here anymore. Come on now.”

************************************************************************************

Thank you, friends, for stopping by Jenny's blog today. Please leave a reply.

Celia Yeary
www.celiayeary.com
www.thewildrosepress.com
http://groups.yahoo.com/group/thebookspa
http://twrpcactusrose.blogspot.com
ALL MY HOPES AND DREAMS-a Texas Historical
Available in eBook: The Wild Rose Press
Available in print: Amazon.com, B&N

Holy whopping reviews, Batman! Manic Readers Reviews Gave UNDER MY SKIN 4.5 out 5 STARS!!!!

"Rachel owns a hip coffee shop in Seattle called Crowe’s Nest. She lives in an apartment a few blocks away where the walls are paper-thin. One fateful night her nice average life takes a strange turn when she hears her next door neighbor murdered. Into her life walks Detective Alex Williams, only this isn’t the first time she has met this hunk. Only yesterday, she threw him out of her coffee shop for being rude, obnoxious, and just socially unacceptable. Thus begins their adventure of solving who murdered her neighbor. I have found a new favorite author! In Under My Skin, Jenny Gilliam has delivered a fantastic book filled with murder, mystery, romance and a few laughs thrown in for good measure. Once Rachel gets over being annoyed at Alex, she discovers that there is more to him than just being a cop with a hot bod. Alex has been patronizing Rachel’s coffee shop for months. He’s had his eye on her, but never drummed up the courage to ask her out. Circumstances throw them together and one thing leads to another. Will Alex be able to protect Rachel when they realize that she is the murder’s next target? Who is the murder? Will they catch him in time? Will Rachel and Alex overcome the obstacles from their pasts so they can express the love they feel for each other? You have to read the book to find out the answers and trust me; it is definitely worth your time. I thoroughly enjoyed this book! I couldn’t wait to see what would happen next. There was no way I was going to put it down! I was captivated from the first page until the last. Rachel’s character is witty and a bit sarcastic, but because of circumstances from her past she is also skittish and timid when it comes to relationships with men. Alex’s character is serious and broody, he’s lost the passion in his life and the empathy he needs for his job. He’s the perfect counter balance to Rachel. Together they will find the balance they need in their lives. If you are looking to settle in with a good book full of mystery, suspense, romance, and some hot, steamy sex then you can’t go wrong with Under My Skin!" - MANIC REVIEWS

Guest author, Sasha Bailey

Brooke Molineux's deepest desires remained secret. Her colleagues respected her, her students feared her, and her husband treated her gently. But one night, when she was alone in her office, one of her students decided to risk his career to give some of her treatment back to her. Brooke seized the opportunity to admit how much pleasure she took in the pain he administered. His punishments opened her ability to love him and fulfilled her deepest needs, until she went too far, and he punished too hard—and opened up another level of her desire and fantasy.

That's the blurb for Torts, and it took me two weeks to write it. Whenever I read it, I hope it's short enough. My first book, Torts, is short. My attention span is short. I have trouble writing the parts of books I don't read. So I look for a few words that characterize a setting or a person. When I read my drafts, my mind wanders. I rewrite any passage that loses my attention. If it continues to lose my attention because I skim in order to get to the action, I know the plot is strong and I cross out that passage.

What about you? When are you reading so intently that you don't even know you are reading intently? When do you skim in order to find out what happens faster? When do you tune out? If you are a reader and not yet a writer, the answers to these questions might tell you what you write well and who will like your books.

You have heard this: write what you know. Yes and no. Maybe you have some werewolves or danger in another dimension. But the desires that drive your characters are akin to deep human ones and trigger ours. You have heard this: write what you like to read. Yes and no. I like to read cookbooks and the sports section. Both, however, are vivid and easy to read and tell stories. That is also true of Torts.

I have learned this: write what you can read. You will read your work a thousand times. You will read it when you admire it. You will read it when it embarrasses you. You will read it and feel like singing with joy. You will read it and think it is contrived. But if you read it and your mind wanders, cross it out. If you read it and it leaves you wanting more detail or another scene, fill it in. Make it into what you can read. Make it what you can read easily because your nervous system absorbs and moves with the rhythm of your writing. Make it a book that reads itself to you while you receive it. Make it effortless for you to read.

This is your style. No one else has it. But your readers are waiting for it. They are waiting for your book to flow into them the way it flowed into you when it was effortless for you to read. To those readers who are not yet writers: sit down at your typewriters and pour.

*****
Sasha Bailey is a crotchety old bag whose favorite book is the Iliad. Her Zen moments of complete peace take place while she does the crossword puzzle in the New York Times.
When she has no work and no ideas, or too much work and no ideas, she hikes or goes to the movies.

Torts by Sasha Bailey
http://www.eternalpress.ca/torts.htm
Erotic / BDSM without graphic sex scenes, 15,758 words
$3.95 US .pdf
ebook: 978-1-926647-52-4
print: 978-1-926647-60-9


Summary:

Brooke Molineux's deepest desires remained a secret. Her colleagues respected her, her students feared her, and her husband treated her gently. But one night, when she was alone in her office, one of her students decided to risk his career to give some of her treatment back to her. Brooke seized the opportunity to admit how much pleasure she took in the pain he administered. His punishments opened her ability to love him and fulfilled her deepest needs, until she went too far, and he punished too hard? and opened up another level of her desire and fantasy.

Please Welcome Guest Blogger and Fellow Author, LAINEY BAINCROFT!!!!

Hey, All! Thanks to Jenny for hosting me on her terrific blog. She and I share two of the same publishers (Amira Press and The Wild Rose Press) so I think it’s pretty cool we can share some promo ops as well. Promoting is tough, and I don’t know about you, but sometimes I get sick of regurgitating the same blurbs and excerpts every time I hit the web. For the record, I grow weary of reading them, too. Often I visit blogs and forums not only to learn of new releases but also to learn a little about the author behind the book and their process. So that’s what I plan to blah…’er, blog about today.

My name is Lainey Bancroft and I have a fiction addiction.

Oops, sorry. Wrong meeting.

I am Lainey Bancroft, and after a dozen book sales of various lengths over the last two years, I think I am finally branding myself as the author of humorous contemporary romance, but I am forever on the lookout to further entrench that brand.

In my research travels (which is a fancy description for surfing the web as a form of procrastination) I tripped across the survey site Measure Up Place http://www.measureupplace.com/ where I found some interesting stats. The one that caught my eye today is WHAT WOMEN WANT IN A MAN.

No, I’m not man shopping. I’ve been with the same man two decades now, and it took me so long to housebreak him I’m not sure I’d have the patience or energy to train a new one. But, hey, as a romance author—particularly one who pens contemporary romance—I figure it’s pretty important to understand just what contemporary women are looking for in a mate.

According to the survey, these are the top five traits:
1. Good Judgments.
2. Intelligence.
3. Faithful.
4. Affectionate.
5. Financially Responsible.

Hmm. Great list. If you happened to be in the market for a mate and found a guy with all those qualities, you’d slap the Husband Material label on his butt in no time flat.
So this is the perfect contemporary romance hero, right?

Wrong! Take away # 5 and you’ve got the description for a freaking golden retriever! Don’t get me wrong. Who doesn’t love a golden retriever? Hell, I even sleep with mine. (In a completely normal, he keeps my feet warm kind of way, of course.)

But write a romance with a Golden Man-triever as the hero? Snore. Ho-hum. I don’t think so.
For one thing, if you’ve got a smart, sensible, loyal, gentle, dude who pays all his bills on time, where do you go for conflict?

For another, I’m not at all convinced romance readers want to read about the sort of guy they want to marry. Over the years, I have fallen hard for some badass boys who did devious and deceitful things between the covers—of a book. If my man were ever as manipulative and Machiavellian as some of these fictional heroes, he’d be best to hide the sharp objects and Crazy Glue. (Hey, he knows what I mean and that’s what matters )

The trick for an author is to create a hero who is flawed enough to make a reader’s heart flutter, but also redeemable enough that he deserves to win the girl in the end.

When you part the pages of a new story, are you looking for a lifetime of love, or to enjoy a three hundred-page affair with a man you probably wouldn’t go near in real life?

For me, it depends on my mood. And for the record, if I’d answered the survey, I wouldn’t have gone along with #5. Financially responsible is all good but a little boring. Ultimately, my fantasy man is so filthy-freaking-rich he doesn’t have to be responsible. Just like the hero in my new release from Absolute XPress!

Cole has pots of money. But not for any of the reasons my heroine Maggie suspects!

http://www.absolute-x-press.com/catalog/product_info.php?products_id=50&osCsid=9504e7fb05b8af6d9d6d5b772d46aa8a

Jenny Gilliam Becomes Piper Foxx

I’m currently in the process of reinventing myself. All four of the novels I released last year were written under my maiden name, Jenny Gilliam. My father, who passed when I was sixteen, was a writer, so I wanted it to be a tribute of sorts to him. But my reasons for using my real name weren’t entirely altruistic.

When I was in high school, I wasn’t what you might call a “model student.” I grew up in the heyday of the grunge era. Let’s say I was a little (okay, a lot) weird to begin with. Then, suddenly it was “cool” to be different, strange. I shopped only at thrift stores, wore funky clothes, went to raves, skipped classes, and indulged in an embarrassing amount of drugs.

Suffice it to say, my grades suffered. J

I always imagined that, had I purchased one, inside my senior yearbook, next to my picture would read: “Most likely to end up in rehab.” And while that happened, so did something extraordinary.

I changed my life.

After I graduated (which I didn’t technically do, but I walked with the class anyway), I kicked the drug habit, got a full-time job, and met my husband (not necessarily in that order). I realized that I wanted to live a healthy life. I wanted to keep seeing my husband, but he’s not a big believer in self-medicating (Hmm. Weird.)

It was an extremely rough year, but I managed to keep my man and my job—in fact, I still work there after twelve years—and realized that life was much better lived without the pot, the meth, the ecstasy.

Hold on, there is a method to my madness; I’m just one of those gals who takes the long way ‘round. So, three years ago, when I decided to pursue publication, I thought, I’ll write under my maiden name. Not just for Daddy, but for me. To show all those people from high school that I made it. That I didn’t turn out to be a loser.

Yet, when my first novel was published in March of 2008, I felt no vindication, no “Ha! Take that!” moment. Then I began to wonder about my future. I’m certain I’ll make a name for myself in romance publishing. Jenny Gilliam already has. But what if I want privacy? Because I’m an intensely private person.

And thus, Piper Foxx was born. How did I come up with the name? Nothing terribly fascinating, I’m afraid. I simply wrote down some of my favorite given and surnames, then matched them up until I came up with Piper Foxx. So everything I write from now on will be under that name. It’s a scary leap, but I’m early enough in my career that I don’t think it will create that much of an impact.

Let’s hope so anyway.

WHAT'S YOUR GUILTY PLEASURE? PLEASE WELCOME GUEST BLOGGER, CINDY K. GREEN!

Inspiration & Guilty Pleasures

Guilty Pleasures—what a great title for a romance novel. Doesn’t it just evoke all kinds of images in your head? Well, come on, we all have them. What’s yours? Is it chocolate? Okay, if you are female and breathing that one is a given. Shoes or shopping in general?? What is it?

My guilty pleasure is watching period drama films. I love them! In fact, my sister comes over every Tuesday for a weekly dose of handsome, dashing men in cravats. I often wonder why I love the Period Drama so much. I’m sure it stems from my love for classic literature, history and romance. And darn it those lovely British men in cravats are just too beguiling. I did mention the cravats, didn’t I??

It seems that the Period Drama started a trend of reading classic literature again. When all the Jane Austen films erupted in the 1990’s, her books grew in popularity once more. And even now we have North and South (2004) by Elizabeth Gaskell. The miniseries starred Richard Armitage and was highly successful. How many of us who viewed the show had to read that novel after seeing the series, I wonder? We just had to know if John Thornton was as irresistible in real life as he was portrayed by RA.

I truly believe that this surge in the period drama has not only increased the reading of classic literature but of the historical romance novel as well. I know that after watching Rupert Penry-Jones play my favorite Captain Wentworth in Persuasion or James McAvoy as Tom Lefroy in Becoming Jane that I am primed and ready to begin writing my historical stories or novels.

How great it is to gain inspiration in your writing from a Guilty Pleasure?? We want to indulge in those pleasures anyway. Why not make it a practical part of your writing process. For me the Period Drama has jump-started my inspiration, fueled my creativity and assisted me in finishing a historical piece. In fact, just this year I had two historicals release. A historical western—The Heart Never Lies. And a post-Civil War historical—Dilemma of the Heart. Guilty Pleasures and Inspiration. Yeah, I like the sound of that. How about you? What are your guilty pleasures??

**********
Cindy K. Green is a multi-published author with degrees in History and Education. Previously a middle school English & History teacher, she now homeschools her own children and writes in several genres: Inspirational, Contemporary, Suspense, Fantasy and Historical romance. But whatever she writes she always throws in a bit of humor and fun. Find out more about Cindy and her books at www.cindykgreen.com and http://cindykgreen.blogspot.com/. To join her newsletter email her at newsletters@cindykgreen.com, and she will send you out all three parts of her FREE READ serial, “Valentine’s Challenge.”

Welcome Denyse Bridger!!!!

Reader vs. Writer

Hello everyone, and many thanks to Jenny for having me as her guest today. I was really stumped for a topic when a discussion on my newsgroup provided some inspiration. (Ok, so I asked and they pointed me to the discussion… J)

A fellow author had asked for a critique of something she was writing, and she got back two very different responses from the two readers to whom she had sent the work. This obviously led to some mixed responses and some questions, namely when do you listen to the reader, who is after all the audience you are working for, and when do you trust your instinct as the creator of the work, when the two come into conflict? Do you, as readers, ever stay with a book if you feel it’s flawed or not written in a way that you generally find enjoyable, or are you willing to stay with it to the end to see if there’s a change in the author’s style or your response to it?

What makes a book good, in your opinion? Story, of course, but are there certain styles that you enjoy more than others? I’d like to know what appeals to the audience as a whole, so please tell me if you were to have the chance to shape the book, what would you recommend?

All creative or artistic work is subjective, and no two people will ever really see it the same way, despite reading the same words. So, as an author, I tend to write what I enjoy. If it “feels” right, then I trust that it is right. However, I now wear another job title, that of Acquisitions Manager for a new publishing imprint, so I also need to know how to pick the books that will appeal most to readers. Now’s your chance to tell me what you really do prefer, and help me do my job better in that regard. What do you think??? You willing to step up and tell me your thoughts? We’ll have a random drawing of names from the comments, and reward your efforts with a surprise gift!

Shameless promo time now, you’ve been warned! J

Absolute XPress is the company I work with/for now. We are running some very cool promotions to launch our press and get to know you all better. If you register at our website, you will automatically receive a 5% off discount coupon for an purchase you make. We have a FREE newsletter you can sign up for, so you are in the know about all titles we offer and what our authors are getting up to! Also, the company blog is up and running, as well as our CONTEST blog – we’ll be running a new one every month, and often with a theme. The current contest is “New Year, New Publisher” and runs through January 31st, so drop over and enter to win this month’s prize!!

Also, don’t miss my fabulous feature in the debut issue of Sable Grey Magazine, coming February 3rd. The magazine will be offered as a free PDF download, and it will feature an interview, a short story, (see the banner), and lots of other great stuff! Well worth checking out, Sable’s site is amazing.

Looking forward to hearing from you!! Thanks again, Jenny, for the opportunity to chat with your readers and fans. I’ll pop back throughout the day.

Denysé

Denysé Bridger
Website: http://www.denysebridger.com
Blog: http://fantasy-pages.blogspot.com
Amore Senza Confini: http://amoresenzaconfini.blogspot.com

Acquisitions Manager/Editor-in-Chief
Absolute XPress, Romance Division
E-mail: romance@absolute-x-press.com
Website: http://absolute-x-press.com
Blog: http://absolute-x-press.blogspot.com
Contest Blog: http://axpcontest.blogspot.com

Please welcome author Lisa Pietsch!

“There was no time for flight. The only option was to fight. Something ugly was about to go down. Sarah braced herself for a fight. Adrenaline kicked in hard and time was marked by the heartbeats that reverberated inside her ears.

Sarah scanned the area quickly for anything she could use as a weapon.

Nothing. Not even a rock!

Sarah eyed the biggest guy there. “You might take me down, but I guarantee I’ll take at least two of you down with me.”

It all happened in the blink of an eye, but it seemed like slow motion for Sarah.

She was surrounded.

Someone grabbed her around the waist from behind.

She jammed her heel as hard as she could into the arch of his foot. Her attacker screamed and let go.

Another man lunged at her from the side and grabbed her arm.

She reacted automatically and threw him to the ground.

He landed flat on his back and groaned as the breath was knocked out of him.

Another one jumped behind her and grabbed her around the waist while the fourth came at her from the front.

The flash of a blade registered in Sarah’s mind.

Knife. Kill or be killed.

Muscle memory and instinct took over and Sarah high-kicked the one with the blade, catching the knife as it was thrown from his hand.

The man behind her let go. Sarah took advantage of the moment and turned on him with the knife in hand, ready to pounce.

He threw up his arms and shrieked like a little girl. “This isn’t worth a hundred bucks!” He ran into the alley and disappeared, leaving the car behind with the engine still running.”

My name is Lisa Pietsch and I’m a writer.

I haven’t found a ten step program for getting that monkey off my back so I’m hoping people will just keep reading my books.

I write what I like. I like action, adventure, travel to exotic locations and romance. I like strong, take-charge women who know what they want and go get it with no apologies. I like guys who are strong, competent and make things happen. I like cute guys who don’t always know they’re cute but always make me laugh.

As proof of that, I’ve written The Path to Freedom. The first in a series of books I plan to write centered around Task Force 125, a special task force created for clandestine counter-terrorism operations. This task force is made up of Army, Navy, Air Force, Marine, FBI and CIA personnel so there are a great deal of interesting specialists from diverse backgrounds.

In The Path to Freedom, Sarah Stevens is a washed-up military cop whose life is a shambles until she is offered a position on an inter-agency anti-terrorism task force by the CIA. The thirty-year-old, overweight, down-on-her-luck Stevens goes to a secret training camp where she is transformed into a sexy and deadly agent whose mission is to find and stop, by any means possible, the financiers of terrorism against the United States and its allies. Although she goes into it thinking that it is just a job, Sarah soon discovers that this is a new life loaded with adventure, including the handsome Vince Hennessee, her team leader, and unimaginable danger in the form of Hassan, the man she has to destroy.

“Sarah turned to smile at the men, knowing full well her mission wasn’t to win a popularity contest with the hens. Charming these guys would inevitably add to her value as a showpiece. As she turned back to Tony, the tall man turned around and, to her amazement, he was magnificent! She smiled broadly.

Oh, baby! Those photos didn’t do you justice. This job is going to be significantly less unpleasant than I expected. We’re going to hit the sheets and you’re going to spill some secrets, honey!

“Tony. It is so good to see you. Salaam Alaikum,” he said loudly as he walked toward Sarah, eyes locked onto hers.

Oh, you have got to be one of the most attractive men I’ve ever seen!

He stood at least six-foot-three, had a well groomed, short haircut that could have passed for a military cut but looked stunning on him. His chiseled facial features were the kind that would make a New York modeling agent cry. He had high cheekbones and a strong rocklike jaw. The man could have been sculpture come to life.

His eyes were a dark brown and so alert and focused they brought to mind those of a predatory bird. His jet-black hair, eyebrows and trimmed three-day beard and moustache only accentuated the power of his gaze. The only thing that served to soften his face was the sensuous curve of his lips. But once he smiled, his perfect teeth proved danger lay there as well.

Sarah couldn’t help but be entranced with his beauty. Were it not for the touch of gray at each temple, he would be a dead ringer for a Chippendale’s dancer. His shoulders were broad and the chest under his black silk shirt and jacket, though not overly thick, was clearly well muscled. His suit jacket was unbuttoned, showing off his trim waistline. His smile captivated her like watching a cobra as it prepared to strike. So beautiful Sarah simply couldn’t take her eyes away from him.

If Satan were to take a human form to sell condos in Hell, this one would do the job nicely.”

The Path to Freedom is available in ebook format through Sapphire Blue Publishing (http://www.sapphirebluepublishing.com). For more information about Lisa Pietsch’s books, visit www.LisaPietsch.com. To get to know more about Lisa Pietsch, visit her MySpace page at http://www.myspace.com/lisampietsch.

J.K. COI - LIVING WITH IMMORTALS

J.K. COI—LIVING WITH IMMORTALS

Yep, I live with Immortals. Huge, stubborn warriors who barely know the meaning of compromise and never give up until they get exactly what they want. Difficult to reason with and impossible to out-muscle...but at least they don’t scare my neighbours and eat me out of house and home. They don’t leave the toilet seat up or throw their torn, bloodstained laundry on the floor. I don’t have to wrestle any one of them for the television remote, and they don’t destroy my living room with their swords when they’re training.

They just do all of that in my head.

Yes, I’m probably a little bit crazy (really, what writer isn’t?) but I’ve read the self-help books, taken the 12-step program, and I’m finally willing to admit it to the world: My characters are real to me.

Then again, that’s not so strange. I hope that they will become real to you as well after you read my books. Because, you see, that is the goal of every writer. To create such compelling heroes and heroines, to paint such vivid pictures with words, that the story runs through your head like a blockbuster movie and stays with you long after you’ve finished reading. You should breathe in the scents and textures of that world, cry when the characters hurt, frown and throw things when they are insufferable, and laugh at their lame jokes just as you would for your sweet husband (*kidding, he’s hilarious*).

This is why I am proud to say that I live with Immortals. Like all of us real people do, these strong, alpha warriors have a past, and they have baggage that affects how they deal with others. They have experienced frustration, desire, happiness. My characters have suffered with me, grown and matured with me as we have hashed out their stories together. And I am happy, in turn, to be able to share that with all of you.

So I invite you into my world. Come and meet my immortals...

Immortal Kiss (Book 2, Immortal Series)

Evil lurks in the darkest of shadows, but a band of warriors stands ready to defend humanity against hell’s own monsters—Immortal men hand-picked by destiny and taken out of time hold the fate of the world in their hands.

It has been two years since Baron’s initiation into the world of the Immortals, and during that time, he’s been training with them, setting aside his past to embrace the challenges of his new future…a future without Maxine Deveraux.

Maxine is strong, determined, and loyal to a fault. The last person she wants to have to face is Baron Silver, the man who broke her heart, leaving her without an explanation or even a goodbye. But Maxine gave her word to Baron’s brother Jackson that she’d track him down and bring him home…and Max always keeps her promises.

When Baron encounters a vicious vampire who vows to destroy everything he loves, it doesn’t faze him in the least. He gave up everything he loved along with his humanity. But then the demon attacks Maxine leaving her broken and battered on Baron’s doorstep and he realizes there are still things he can lose…and they are things he can’t live without.

© Immortal Kiss (Book 2, Immortal Series) by J.K. Coi

She put a hand to Baron’s chest in a lame effort to push him back and put distance between them, which he wholly ignored, stepping even closer into her personal space. Baron had always been a very physical person. He had played sports constantly, his body always in motion—almost as if he’d been given an extra dose of energy to make up for what his brother lacked.
Now all of that physical presence was concentrated on her, transformed into blistering, crackling, hot sexual energy. Her fingers curled around the soft cotton of his shirt. “Baron—”
“Max—” he mimicked, his voice deep and husky and so damn sexy.
He was close. So close.She was going to push him away now. Wasn’t she?
Apparently not soon enough to avoid being kissed. Her body tensed with the initial contact of his mouth against hers. It was a sizzling, wet kiss that ignited a fever in her blood, but he was gentle, almost careful with her as if he half expected to get kneed in the groin.
Which was exactly what she should do.
When it came to this man, though, Max had never operated on “should”. Baron had always been her one and worst weakness, the addiction she may never kick no matter how long and hard she tried.
Her lips were opening of their own accord under his gentle but insistent pressure. Damn, this was dangerous.


Thanks so much to Jenny for letting me visit today!
Please visit me at my website for more information about upcoming books, chats, interviews, reviews, and all things Immortal: http://www.jkcoi.com/. I’m also on MySpace: http://www.myspace.com/jkcoi and I blog at http://www.jkcoi.blogspot.com/.

J.K. CoiImmortals to Die Forhttp://www.jkcoi.com/

A.R. Moler Stops by for a Guest Blog! Please Give Her a Great Big Welcome!

Hello to all,

I'm A.R. Moler, a chemistry professor, homeschooling mommy of two and a writer. The order of priority depends on what time you ask me. When I tell people I wrote a book, and am nearly finished another, the immediate assumption seems to be that it must be a chemistry text, which usually makes me laugh. Much as I adore chemistry, writing a text book would bore me out of my skull. Instead, there's demons and vampires and gunfire and some really graphic hot sex.

The novel I'm nearly done with is called And Hell Itself Breathes Out. Nothing like stealing from the bard (grin) It's the first book in a series -The SIS Case Files. I already wrote and released the second book - Now I Could Drink Hot Blood. I know, I know, that's backwards and weird. Deal with it. If George Lucas can start in the middle.......SIS is a tiny fictional federal agency, Special Investigative Services, run by my hero, Director John Benchley. His 5 member staff investigates and deals with things that other agencies can't even comprehend.

I'm up to 69K words on Hell Itself and have one more scene to deal with, followed by going back to fix the gaping plot hole round about chapter 6 or so. Some writers do stuff sequentially, obvious I'm not really one of them. I skip stuff when I'm stuck and leave myself notes. ( insert more sex here) No, really. The first time my editor read that she said she about fell out of her chair laughing.

Here's a little exerpt from Now I Could Drink Hot Blood -

John found himself searching the faces of the FBI personnel for Brie. Eventually he saw her, digging gloves and some sampling equipment out of the back of the truck. She wore a standard issue FBI wind breaker and a pair of dark slacks. He dodged past a couple of agents on security detail to get to her.

“Hey Gabrielle!” he called.

She was wearing her dark sunglasses despite the heavy overcast of the day. He stopped beside her and laid a hand on her arm. She looked up at him.

“I recognize those glasses. Migraine ?” he asked.

“Yeah … ” she answered slowly.

“Give me 5 minutes.” He pulled her against his body and threaded his fingers through her hair, rubbing the back of her neck and the knotted muscles at the base of her skull. He felt her mind brush across his. Just a hint of pure pleasure at his touch as her forehead rested on his collarbone.

“Interrogation today?” he asked.

“Yes, better than ninety minutes,” she whispered. His cheek rested against the top of her head, and he noticed that they were receiving a couple of pointed stares. He was amused. He spent a couple more minutes holding her, trying to ease her headache.

“Better?”

“Some. Enough that maybe my eyeballs won’t fall out.” She pulled away and started putting on her gloves. He grabbed her field kit box and followed her toward the body. Cecelia and Evan were measuring and photographing. Several FBI people were doing similar things. This was definitely going to lead to arguments over who got what samples. Brie walked the perimeter, looking. John set the box down and watched her. He slowly realized that she was looking for something. Something specific. She knelt down and used a swab to sample something, placing it in a tube. And then she stroked her fingers across it, feeling the texture of whatever it is through her gloves. The sun chose that moment to break through the clouds. She let out a little squeal and dropped the tube, which was luckily acrylic. She was franticly yanking the glove off her hand.

“Fuckfuckfuck!” she yelled.

John lunged forward, dropping to his knees and grabbed her wrist and peeling most of the glove the rest of the way off. There was gummy melted residue on her palm and fingers, and she was grimacing in pain. John looked at her with a worried expression.

“Hey Cecelia! Get over here!” he shouted. “What happened?” he demanded of Gabrielle.

“Major exothermic reaction.”

“Say what?”

“It didn’t quite burst into flames,” said Brie. Cecelia dropped down beside them.

“Take a look at her hand. Whatever it was, melted the glove,” ordered John.

Cecelia took hold of the other woman’s hand and starts flexing her fingers and trying to assess the damage.

Now I Could Drink Hot Blood is available in both paperback and e-book

http://www.outskirtspress.com/armoler

Please welcome author and friend, Renee Knowles!

A Little Dose of Good, Old-fashioned Romance

Surely, romance is not dead. The romance genre as a whole continues to thrive despite desperate and very difficult financial times. Us readers, fans, and authors still flock to the stores (or online bookstores) and buy our favorite authors, lapping up every line of sexual tension, chemistry, and obstacles we read.

But there has been a turn lately toward romance that pushes the boundaries, with sexuality, paranormal elements, and unusual situations. I love them. I adore a book that can make you believe anything. I adore an author who can transport me to the depths of sexuality and to other worlds.

Yet…sometimes, in my heart, I long for a good old-fashioned romance. Something where heroes abound, sexual tension rules the day and love is something to work for. I’m not saying these romances don’t exist. I’ve read some incredibly fabulous romances lately full of passion and the feel of yesterday’s favorites.

But the days of Audrey Hepburn and Gregory Peck in Roman Holiday—a classic, fun romance if I ever saw one—seem to be shifting. All things change. And overall change is good. Only in these days of new everything, there is still something to be said for getting back to basics.

I’d like to think that at its core, my historical romance, Courting Trouble, is an old-fashioned story of deep love and desire (despite it being rather spicy!). In fact, as I was writing the story, part of what drove my passion for the manuscript each day was the central story of the romance. The hero and heroine start out as childhood friends, each having a small tether hold on the other’s heart from the beginning.

Am I too romantic? I don’t think so (says the woman who scoffed at her hubby for buying her jump drives as a stocking stuffer instead of something more personal!). But I think romance itself is a part of our lives. When someone says Rhett and Scarlett or Darcy and Elizabeth, we know who they mean.

I think it’s because we all want to feel someone’s arms wrapped around us. We all want to know we have captured the interest of the person who is right for us. And we all want to dream about that happily ever after.

You will find this all in a romance novel, where good, old-fashioned romance can still be found. Where love can conquer all. And the hero can still ride off into the sunset with the heroine.

Hugs to all,

Renee

Renee Knowles
Sensual, Sassy and Slightly Sinful
For a chance to win a Sony E-Reader check out COURTING TROUBLE
from The Wild Rose Press --5 Angels--"...simmers with emotion."--Fallen Angel

SAVVY BUSINESS SKILLS FOR WRITERS--coming from Wild Child Publishing
www.reneeknowles.com

Let's Give a Great Big Shout Out to my Guest Blogger, Lena Coburn!

“You Don’t Know Me”
By Lena Writes a Romance
http://lenacoburn.blogspot.com
lena.coburn@gmail.com

I deeply appreciate the happy, spicy wonderfulness I feel whenever I read anything written by Jenny Gilliam. I don’t think there is anything better than happy, spicy wonderfulness. Do you? I didn’t think so. Therefore, I am honored to introduce myself to the many fans who celebrate those very qualities in Jenny’s blog land. Thank you for this opportunity, Jenny. You rock.
You don’t know me so let me introduce myself. My name is Lena and I'm pretending to write a romance novel. I mean, I'm not really pretending, but it really feels like I am pretending. Sometimes I even feel like I'm pretending to pretend to write a romance novel. Good grief, it may be that I’m not actually doing anything. Is it all pretend?

As you might suspect, this pretending thing concerns me. It concerns me because I quit my day job last December with the adamant intention of finishing a full length novel by early spring 2009. So far I've written about half of a novel that - I swear to you - quite suddenly stopped making sense. And, to my horror, it seemed to take a rather dark and gloomy turn. Considering that I am known, almost universally, as the most horribly cheerful and fun-loving person you could ever meet I began to worry. This was when I started to realize that - gasp - I don't know me either! Or, at least, I don’t know all of me. Who am I and what am I doing?

This question is alarming, depressing, agitating, exciting and significantly uncomfortable. It is also my loyal companion on this labyrinth-like journey of writing a book. It’s not as scary as it initially seemed however because, as it turns out, it is also the fodder of my trade. Not knowing me – or what I’m doing - sparks my imagination. If I can’t achieve the answers through the use of reason and logic (and trust me, I can’t), than I simply must shift out of my head and into my heart. And then it comes. The story, the plot points, the characters….they simply come right out of my heart. And through these things I catch a glimpse of who I am and what I’m doing.

Maybe someday I won’t have to torture myself with this dark and gloomy process of fear-doubt-surrender before I arrive at the answers. But, then again, maybe I won’t. And maybe I don’t want to. Maybe I don’t want to end my daily journey of casting off the smallness of my mind in order to delve into the deep well of universal experience that is the birthplace of all Story? The place where I know me and you know me and we recognize one another because we understand things in this place. In that place we are all embracing love and joy and celebrating - without shame – the beauty of our bodies, our feelings, our very natures. There we are free. Whoa. I am getting all this from the process of writing a romance novel. Awesome.

So, I suppose, whether or not I ever find my book on the shelf at a bookstore or the NYT Best Sellers List I can feel confident that I am not pretending to write a romance and that I am, in fact, learning who I am and what I’m doing at every cross in the road. And I can rest assured that you do recognize me even though you’ve never seen my face or read my book. You understand me because you’ve been to that very same cross in the road yourself. It’s even possible that you are there with me right now.

See you around,
Lena Writes a Romance

Ava James Stops by for a Visit! Come have a look-see!

Coming Dec 2nd to Freya's Bower!

http://www.freyasbower.com/index.php?main_page=product_info&cPath=8&products_id=144

The Eagle At Midnight
by Ava James

For Deryn Philips life has hit a record low. After losing her parents in a car crash, she follows their last request and takes a trip to Wales. But this is no ordinary trip, and there is more to her new mysterious male friend than she can believe. Then again, if you are in a medieval castle in a foreign country, what's wrong with meeting a knight in shinning Armani?

Excerpt:

The tour group milled around on the lower floors and the castle grounds out of consideration to the group members of an advanced age. Craving solitude, Deryn decided to see the view from one of the towers. The gaggle of widows departed, and she turned back to the gravel paths in the inner bailey. Each path led to a different tower.

“So which tower is it going to be? Black, Chamberlain, Eagle, or Queen?”

“I suggest Eagle’s Tower,” a male’s voice recommended from behind her.

The smooth timbre and Welsh accent generated tingles down her spine.

Turning around, Deryn met stunning cerulean eyes set in chiseled features, paired with heart-stopping good looks. Hot didn’t even begin to cover the essence of this man. Her jaw slackened at the sight. Raw desire shot down her body. Her eyes wide, she drank him in inch by tailored inch. He wore his light grey suit with confidence, and his honey locks, pulled back from his face into a short ponytail, brushed the collar of his black shirt. A seductive grin crept across his sensual lips, and a sigh almost escaped Deryn’s lips.

Holy David Beckham! This man could be his long lost, even hotter brother. His tawny skin, muscular frame, and blond locks were a triple threat. It was too much…. He was too much.

“I….” I want you…. No, too forward. Damn, what was I saying?

Her mind turned to mush with one grin from him. She didn’t recognize this man from their tour group. There was no way he’d been in the group—she would have seen him.

“There’s a breathtaking view from the Eagle Tower . You can see clear across the sea.” The handsome stranger’s voice enchanted her. She stood stunned. “Oh, sorry. Llaw Gyffes.” He extended his hand. She didn’t immediately take it, so he reached down and took her hand into his gentle grip.

Every nerve in her body pulsed with excitement. When his hand made contact with hers, Deryn swore the air sizzled with heat. She watched in utter fascination as he brought her hand up to his mouth, his lips inches from her skin. The whole world stopped in that moment. She held her breath while he turned her hand. His satin lips made contact with the sensitive flesh of her wrist, and her knees nearly gave way. His eyes met hers, and she couldn’t restrain the sigh that rolled off her tongue.

“And you are?” His eyes sparkled with mischievous curiosity.

Wake up, Sleeping Beauty! He’s talking to you…answer him!

Coming to Freya's Bower Dec. 9th!

Waking Up

by Ava James

In Iraq , Jaysen has treated many wounded men, but none touch her heart like Sergeant Tiberius. Will she touch his heart too?

Excerpt:

He listened while the petite nurse placed some items beside him. He heard the tug and scrape of metal rings on a rail from above. The air about him stirred, and he realized that pretending to be asleep was about to get much, much harder.

And hard was exactly what he didn’t want to be. Just thoughts about what was going to happen began to bring his formerly limp member to attention.

Giant, hairy, brown moles. Cellulite, chucky cottage cheese thighs. Winter in the Ukraine ! He tried frantically to distract himself.

Fingers brushed across his chest and rounded the edge of his sheet to fold it down his torso.

Maggot eaten sheep’s intestines!

Her gentle hands grasped his arm, lifted it, and placed it back onto what he assumed was a towel. She walked around the bed and did the same to his other side. The next thing he heard was the splish-splash of water. She must have wrung out a sponge.

Breathe, he reminded himself as he waited for the wet sponge to make contact with his skin. His pulse surged out of control in anticipation. Where would she start? He wanted to open his eyes so badly. The apprehension and anxiety knotted his gut.

She began to hum. A warm, wet object that he identified as a sponge, slid smoothly across his collarbone. Left to right, lower and lower, a few inches lower with each pass until she pulled it away. The languid heat of the sponge fired his skin. With his eyes held firmly shut, all of his other senses heightened. He heard her every breath. The sterile smell of the hospital ward was methodically replaced with a lemon soap aroma that mingled with her minty breath. He felt each intake and release of air from her.

Returning the sponge to his skin, she started in tight circular strokes on his chest and upper abdomen. Warm tingles broke out over his body. Every nerve stood alert to her merciless ministrations. Her cool breath blew across his wet skin, and he nearly lost it. A shiver shot straight down his spine to curl his toes.

Rotten eggs! Uri’s stinking boots!

He bit down on his tongue to try to lessen the impact of her attentions. The nurse thankfully removed her instrument of torture. She dipped the sponge into the water basin; the familiar splash-splosh noises filled the air. Demetri tried to calm his blood and breathing. He fought for four years in this bloody war to keep peace, so he could do this.

You can do this. He chanted in his mind while waiting for her next tactical maneuver.

Visit Eve Summers at www.evesummers.weebly.com

Guess the Release! "The Seventh Taboo" by Yvonne Eve Wallus

The Seventh Taboo - Guess the release date!

The Kudos:

"A brilliant story! I want more!" - Nalini Singh, New York Times Bestselling Author of Hostage to Pleasure


The Seventh Taboo by Yvonne Walus hooked me from the first paragraph, drawing me into a world of virtual reality and beyond, where the reader begins to wonder if this too could be our future. ~ Jane Beckenham, author of Love in Waiting,


"In a world where connection is forbidden, human interaction is predominantly virtual, and clones are formatted for their future, the only unplanned, unprogrammed, and unexpected outcome…is true love." ~ N. D. Hansen-Hill, author of Gilded Folly.


The Blurb:

You know he is out there - somewhere. Your soul mate. Your other self. All you need to do is find him and you'll feel complete the way you've never felt complete before.

Except that finding him is strictly forbidden.
Finding him would break the Seventh Taboo.

And then, one night, you meet him. Every hormone and every cell in your body shouts that he's the lost half of yourself you've been searching for. Your logic disagrees. Which are you going to believe? The primeval instinct or your training? Your heart or your mind?

To what lengths will you go, what risks will you take, to prove to yourself that he is the one?

Enter the world of cloning, scientific experiments and toying with people's lives. Enter the world in which your every movement, online as well as offline, is scrutinised by your live-in Monitor. Enter the future which could well be ours one day.



The contest:

“The Seventh Taboo” by Yvonne Eve Walus is going to be published by The Wild Rose Press. When? I don’t know yet. I do know it’s “in the bag”, with final edits and the cover all done, but other than that, your guess is as good as mine.

So here is a contest for you. Email me on yve at xtra dot co dot nz with your pot shot at the release date (the time zone is that of the Wild Rose Press website). The person who comes up with the closest guess will receive the book free. In case of a tie, I’ll spin a coin. J

Author Lisa Hendrix talks about Chapters, the Internet, and her new release, Immortal Warrior

Okay, after reading that last post with Debby Allen, I think I'm here because Jenny wants to prove she's not prejudiced against writers published in New York. //tongue firmly in cheek//

Actually, Jenny and I are RWA chapter mates, though I live so far from the chapter I never attend meetings. However, thanks to electrons and internets and emails and such, we've actually managed to get acquainted. Besides sheer distance, the even more remarkable part of this acquaintance is the age difference (I'm *old* and I don't have any tats or piercings beyond one boring one in each ear). That's the fun of the net and RWA, though -- we all do get to know each other, trade visits, support each other's efforts, and generally expand our horizons. Definitely a good thing. I've gotten to watch Jenny's excitement over her release this month, share in her pleasure over THE TRUTH ABOUT ROXY being the #1 Bestseller at Wild Rose Press, and see how she handles 2 releases in one month (quite well, thank you).

At the same time, I've been finishing the second book in a series while trying to promo the first, and of course that's why I'm here.
IMMORTAL WARRIOR is the first in my new series about a crew of Viking raiders cursed to live for eternity as weres of their fylgjur, their spirit companions. (Some beasts aren't meant to be tamed...) And here's the blurb to pique your interest:


IMMORTAL WARRIOR

He came to England in search of treasure. Two hundred years later, he’s found her…
Ivar Graycloak is a brave warrior, a man known for his strength and integrity. He is also a man with a terrible secret. Long ago he was part of a Viking crew cursed by an evil sorceress to live for eternity as were-creatures. An eagle by day and a man by night, Ivar has lived a solitary existence for over two centuries. Then the king orders him to marry.
Lady Alaida is everything a man could want in a bride—intelligent, spirited, and beautiful—and their wedding night is a balm to Ivar’s lonely spirit. Then a seer brings him word of a dark vision, one that makes Ivar vow to stay away from his lovely wife forever. But now that Ivar has sampled Alaida’s passion, her humor and warmth, he is enthralled. His traitorous body-his very heart-longs for that which he
can never possess.
Lady Alaida may surprise him yet, though, for she has a power of her own-a power that will either destroy everything they hold dear or ultimately set them free…
______
Buy from Amazon.com now:
http://www.amazon.com/gp/product/0425224546?ie=UTF8&tag=lisahendrix&linkCode=as2&camp=1789&creative=9325&creativeASIN=0425224546



________

Lisa Hendrix is the author of IMMORTAL WARRIOR, the first book in an all-new paranormal historical romance series, The Immortal Brotherhood. Please visit her website, http://lisahendrix.com for excerpts, contests, and more information about Lisa and her books. Lisa can also be found on MySpace ( myspace.com/lisa_hendrix ), Facebook ( http://www.facebook.com/pages/Lisa-Hendrix/18625590885 ) and Goodreads ( http://www.goodreads.com/profile/LisaHendrix )

Please welcome, author, promoter, and all around awesome person, Debby Allen

Foreword:

One of the greatest gifts I've discovered in this electronic writing world is the wonderful friendships that come about. This proves that you don't have to be published with the large houses in New York (and no offense to those who are) to make good friends. With that in mind, please welcome a dear friend of mine, Debby Allen. She's a romance novelist, runs the Romance E-Books sites, and is responsible for MUCH of my promotion (tee-hee). So, without further ado....

Debby Allen – Author of Romance


I’d like to say I’m just an author of romance for The Wild Rose Press, but I’m not. I’m also a promoter - of other authors and publishers. To say I don’t feel any satisfaction when I receive an email thanking me for an interview or an author/publisher spotlight would be bending the truth a little. I love it!
I first began promoting when I set up The Romance eBooks Myspace profile in February 2008. I had my 1st ebook release from The Wild Rose Press the following month and discovered just how difficult promoting could be. So I thought, why not get together with some other authors and we’ll promote each other. However, I never expected the profile to be so popular! Word got around pretty quick and before I knew it I had befriended a few hundred authors, readers and publishers – just over seven hundred up to now!
The promotion process is very simple - I promote your book on the profile and a direct link to your purchasing details are literally at the end of the potential buyer’s fingertips! Once your book is on the profile, all you have to do is sit back and reap the rewards.
On November 1st, I released the 1st Romance eBooks Newsletter. Just like the myspace profile, the promotion is just the same, but on a more personal level with interviews and spotlights. I call it The Pink Link – you’ll see why if you check it out. It was fun to create and the response for contributions was fantastic! If I’m honest, it’s more like a mini eMag than a newsletter. I’m very proud of it and very grateful to its contributors. At the moment, I promote free of charge, even though I have been offered payment. But my response to that offer is, just please promote me in return. That’s all I ask.

If you would like to check out The Romance eBooks Myspace Profile, here is the link:
http://www.myspace.com/romance_ebooks

If you would like to check out The Romance eBooks Newsletter Blog, here is the link:
http://romanceebooksnewsletter.blogspot.com/

I hope you’ll check out both. And if you would like to appear in the New Year Newsletter or any other after that, then contact me at romanceebooks@yahoo.co.uk


Writing Romance:

When I first began writing novels and novellas, it was mainly to practice my writing skills, but I also wanted to create stories that I would really enjoy reading myself. In those early days, I never expected to be published (but I do hope those books will be published one day when I have polished them off).
I love reading Harlequin Mills & Boon and desperately wanted to create such a romantic fantasy of my own. So after years of educating myself at home and reading lots of romantic novels, I submitted a short story to The Wild Rose Press, a publisher who publishes books in electronic and print format. And that’s where my dream began.
In March 2008, ‘Hibiscus Bay’ was released in electronic format and I received some fabulous reviews. Here’s a quick preview:



‘Hibiscus bay’ available from The Wild Rose Press NOW!
http://www.thewildrosepress.com/index.php?main_page=product_info&cPath=87_118&products_id=743
‘If blue skies, hunky foreign guys and glistening seas float your boat, then you’ll love this romp on the beach romance that will leave you searching for your Passport to Paradise!’

BLURB:

Exhilarating sex with an Arabian millionaire is the last thing Ashleigh Brennan expects after an illicit affair with her boss leaves her unemployed and without dignity. She vows never to be misled by first impressions again—until she meets wealthy, handsome Remmao Kamal. He’s full of passion and eastern promise—but for how long?
It’s hard to believe that this wealthy bachelor isn’t married, but his playboy lifestyle aboard his yacht has had its repercussions. After a succession of harbor pickups, his misjudgement of a lover’s intention put his life at risk. Since then, he has been determined to put his womanising days behind him—until Ashleigh walks into his life. Their sexual attraction is immediate and the temptation for Remmao to break his vow of harbor celibacy is as strong as Ashleigh’s desire to protect her heart. But will a one-night stand with no commitments be enough for them?'

REVIEWS

Simply Romance Reviews GRADE: A 'I can honestly say, while reading Hibiscus Bay, I was touched by the beautiful twist of fate for Ashleigh and Remmao. This is the kind of romance we all dream of. Debby Allen captured so many heart-warming emotions of both her characters... wonderful job Debby!!'Cocktail Reviews: 'Like a short version of a M&B/Harlequin title, Hibiscus Bay delivers on all fronts with an exotic locale, wealthy foreign hunk, a good dose of angst, enjoyable love scenes and a HEA. I’d recommend this to any fan of the genre.'

The Long And Short Of It Reviews: “Hibiscus Bay,” set in a lush harbor town, is an emotional roller coaster of a romance between Remmao and Ashleigh… The setting of gorgeous Hibiscus Bay is a perfect place for Remmao and Ashleigh to explore their feelings further, and those descriptive details are nicely presented. (On a side note, this novella’s cover is beautifully designed and paints an idyllic picture of the paradise where these characters fall in love.)

New Releases:
My next release is a Christmas story, titled ‘Mistletoe and Ouzo Kisses’ due for release on 17th December 2008 from The Wild Rose Press. The storyline is set in Athens, Greece. Here’s a quick preview:




‘Mistletoe and Ouzo Kisses’ Release date - 17th December 2008 from The Wild Rose Press.
‘If a Greek Adonis found his way into your Christmas stocking, wouldn’t you want to unwrap him?’

BLURB:

A man is for life and not just for Christmas – or so the saying goes. When Leah Stamford accepts the offer to spend the festive season in Greece with her co-worker, Marcus Savakis, the last thing she expects to be unwrapping, is him. But after one ouzo too many, and with a voluptuous ex-girlfriend tempting Marcus back into her ample bosom, Leah will stop at nothing to win her colleague’s affections — though seduction isn't one of her talents. Leah's frigidness was the reason she lost her last boyfriend. Now it’s time to prove to herself that she can be daring and sexy. But has she got what it takes to seduce Marcus away from the desires of his ex-girlfriend? And can her timidness compete with this erotic Greek goddess?

For those of you who haven’t noticed, Chris Winters, who was crowned Mr. Romance 2008 at the Romantic Times Convention, is my cover model - and at special request! I feel very honoured and very privileged!

Unfortunately, there are no reviews for ‘Mistletoe and Ouzo Kisses’ to date.

Due for release in 2009 ‘An Outlaw’s Honor’ by Debby Allen.

Look out for ‘The New Year Romance eBooks Newsletter’! If you have a new release, new review or a competition that you would like to contribute to the newsletter, then contact me, Debby, at romanceebooks@yahoo.co.uk

I hope to hear from you soon.

Please Welcome Laurean Brooks!

And her fantastic-looking novel, Journey To Forgiveness, available TODAY at The Wild Rose Press. I'm pleased to have such a fine author as a guest! Read on for more....

May 1938

When Southern-born Jenny Hinson's abusive father deserts his family, the brunt of running a fifty-acre farm falls to Jenny and her mother. Twelve acres of cotton are the family's mainstay. When the crop is infested with boll weevils, Jenny has no option but to accept an invitation from an aunt in Chicago, to move north to seek employment. Her mother and younger siblings are depending on her.

Her first unfamiliar jolt of electricity pales in comparison to the jolt that shakes Jenny when she encounters the charming, but dubious, Austin Grant at a train depot in Kankakee. When Jenny spies Austin running away with her vanity case, she yells for the guard to apprehend him. Why did he want a young woman's luggage?

Imagine Jenny's shock when Austin appears behind the podium at her aunt's church, begging for money for a tornado-stricken town. Jenny determines not to give one cent to this shyster! And furthermore she will join the mission trip to the rural town, to keep an eye on Austin. She will expose him whateve it takes.

But Jenny has other issues. Recurring nightmares from the beatings she endured at her father's hand. Beatings that have left her with anger toward men. Especially men like Austin Grant.

So why can't Jenny report Austin when she spies him removing a roll of money from the mission strongbox? Has she fallen for this thief?

Is it possible for a victim to forgive her abuser? Will Jenny hold onto hurt and forfeit her chance for a future with the man she loves? Or will she face her abuser and let go of her bitterness?

*********************************************************************

Excerpt:

"Well, this is a pleasant surprise." Jenny looked up to lock eyes with the thief she had encountered in Kankakee. His blue eyes danced with mischief. "I never did get your name."

To avoid drawing attention, Jenny hissed just above a whisper, "Get away from me!"

"Sorry, we got off to a bad start. Do you think we could begin again?" He chuckled.

"Over my dead body!" Jenny spat, and glanced toward the ladies' room. Where was her aunt when she needed her?

"I would want that. You are much too cute. You don't really believe I wanted that vanity case?" His brows rose when she didn't respond. "How long will you be in Chicago?"

A "drop dead" glare, but still no response.

"Are you ready?" A stout middle-aged man nodded at the man hovering near her table.

"Be right with you," Jenny's unwelcome guest replied before turning back to her. "Who knows, we could meet again," he crooned. "I've heard that good things come in threes." He winked, then swaggered out the door.

Available in e-book at www.thewildrosepress.com on November 14, 2008 and in print on February 20, 2009.

For more on this author go to Laurean's Lore at http://laureanslore.blogspot.com

BIO:

Ever since Laurean Brooks' fifth grade teacher announced, "Some day Laurie will become an author," Laurean has loved to read and write. But as sometimes happens, life got in the way. Several decades passed. Then 2002 Laurean submitted a story to a local magazine, it was published, and the writing bug bit. Since that day, Laurean has written a collection of stories from childhood to pass on to her grandchildren (if she ever has any. Hint-hint.)

She believes that so much is lost down through the generations. And personality can leap off a page. Forty years from now when her great-grandchildren ask their grandfather to, "Tell me about Grandmother Laurie," her son can dust off a green, nylon-covered binder, pull the little ones onto his lap, and read the hilarious, though sometimes serious accounts of a spirited woman who laughed, cried, and loved life--once upon a time.

Today, she is the author of JOURNEY TO FORGIVENESS, a novel that deals with the struggle to overcome the after-effects of abuse. Check it out on The Wild Rose press site at www.thewildrosepress.com.

Please Welcome Laurean Brooks!

Name That Block: Dissolving Procrastination Through Writing by Beth Morrow, Author

For as simplistic as a book, article, or piece of writing appears to the person who reading it, writing is a ridiculously difficult activity. I don't mean difficult, as in "I can't lift this pen." I mean difficult, as in "Oh, I really should wash the drapes, walk the dog, call my mom, and polish Aunt Sally's silver before I start writing." Mental blocks sometimes serve a purpose when we're waiting for the words to come or the next plot event to fall into place, but what about when we just use good, old-fashioned procrastination itself as an excuse not to write?

I start each and every day with writing. Up at 4:30 for a walk with the dog, then I settle into my routine of morning pages for a few minutes before moving on to whatever story or article I'm working on. I work until 6:30, when it's time to hop in the shower and leave for another day of teaching middle school ESL. My corner of the world is not as happy as it can be if I don't get my time alone with words each morning, but on occasion, I run head-on into a wall of procrastination and find stringing words together a more difficult task than teaching 7th graders how to conjugate verbs.

When I feel words clogging up inside and unable to come out, one trick I've learned is to put the pen to the paper and write out the problem itself. I know it sounds too easy, too simple, too good to be true---and I felt that way when I first heard the idea. But time and again, writing out the problem gets things moving in a way that continual procrastination (and subsequent waiting for enlightenment/inspiration/the muse) cannot.

I was on deadline for a magazine article and knew my subject matter well—everything except the introduction. I put off writing the article until a week before it was due (which is my personal due date). I was so frustrated that when I sat to work on the article, I just poured my agitation onto the page. The more I wrote about how I didn't have the perfect introduction, the more my brain responded by giving me possible phrases and sentences to start my piece. I scratched these down furiously in the margin. By the time I finished venting, I had enough bits and pieces of possible beginnings to choose from that one of them just "clicked". (You writers know what I mean!).

This works with fiction, too. I just finished a short story and couldn't figure out the hero's line of work. I saw him crystal-clear in my mind, knew his job was a key to his interaction with the heroine...even if I didn't know what his job was. I journaled that his job was so important to the story I needed to know before I went on and found all kinds of questions brewing in my mind. After a few minutes, I discovered he was a small business owner with lots of connections, which was crucial to my heroine's conflict.

I don't know what makes writing down the block itself such a powerful trigger in unleashing the words, but I do know that I'm not questioning it. Maybe it's the physical act of writing or how naming a problem can help generate a solution that gets things moving. Of course, it doesn't work all the time—sometimes there are blocks and issues that go way deeper in the writer's psyche that affect the ability to write. But the next time you're creatively stuck, why not try taking the power away from the block by naming it? It sure beats finding yourself sitting at the dining room table polishing a pile of Aunt Sally's heirloom forks when you really wish you were writing....

I'm so thrilled you stopped by Jenny's blog to read my post. To get you started in writing about your blocks, I'll be giving away a writer's journal this week to one lucky blog reader who posts a comment here. I really appreciate you reading...there are so many blogs to visit and so little time! Thanks for reading :)

Happy Writing!

Beth

Blog: www.writer-in-progress.blogspot.com
Website: www.bethmorrow.com
Mandi's Lucky Day from The Wild Rose Press

A Writer's Sacred Space

So I recently bought a laptop. Way to go, you say. For a writer, it’s certainly a good investment. And I’m pretty sure I’m in love with a machine. I know it’s strange and unusual to have such intense feelings for an inanimate object, but there it is.
I’m also a multi-published author. I don’t say this to toot my own horn (toot), but to bring you to the next, most obvious question: Why didn’t I have one until now?
Well, I did. And it died. Horribly.
Actually, it was murdered and I’m the guilty party. I’m quite embarrassed to admit that while goofing off on the Internet (not writing—bad Jenny!), I spilled pop all over the keyboard and fried the hard drive. “No!” I screamed in a moment of high drama. “Not my laptop!”
Back to the original point. I didn’t use my laptop as much as I do Frankie (that’s my beloved, new laptop’s name). In fact, I’m pretty much physically attached to good ol’ Frankie. Literally. I take it wherever I go, use it for the Web, writing, blogging, etc., when in fact I have perfectly usable and new desktop PC at home. Which raises another question for me: What about my sacred writing space?
I’m Wiccan. For those of you who don’t really know what that is, I’ll give an easy to understand explanation. I’m basically a white witch with a little neo-paganism to back me up. No, I don’t sacrifice small children to the devil (although I am tempted to when my kids drive me crazy, which, I’ll tell you, is quite often), use a Ouija board to conjure the dead, or make concoctions that include frog eyes for ingredients. My concoctions consist of herbs and essential oils, I’m not a gifted medium, and we already covered the bit about small children.
The reason I tell you this is because I look for and create sacred space wherever I go. What is sacred space, you ask? Well, besides the obvious, it’s any area that is cleansed (usually by the smoke of a smudge—made from herbs—stick), blessed by the love and wisdom of the god and the goddess, and brought together by the elements—North, East, South, West.
I have little altars everywhere. On my window sill, in my bedroom, in the dining room, at both my desks (home and work). These altars—the ones on my desk(s)—all have semi-precious stones such as orange calcite (for breaking through writer’s block), green aventurine (for creativity), various small statues (I’m currently looking for one of the Three Muses), and some herbs conducive to production, communication, creativity, and avoiding blocks.
Now I have this laptop, but no sacred space. Or so you think. A-ha! I have an “altar on the go” in my purse (which is the size of a small country—the purse, not the altar). Wherever I am, I pull out my little bag o’ tricks and place them near me.
And yes, I get funny looks all the time. However, I live in Portland, Oregon, also known as Land of the Weird.
These sacred spaces may seem strange to you, but to me they’re a perfect blend of two of the most important things in my life: writing and religion (well, my husband and kids come first, of course).
So, the next time you’re having trouble with a writing block. Go to your local metaphysical shop and pick up some orange calcite. Clean it by soaking it in a cup of water for twenty minutes, dry it, then rub it between your hands for some inspiration. It may not work, but at least you’re trying.

Creatures of The Night....by Denyse Bridger, Author

Creatures of the night… the timeless mystery…


One of the most popular genres around is the paranormal, with heroes who are not quite human many times. We are taking traditional monsters, and turning them into seductive and alluring beings who appeal and touch forbidden desires. Why the need to extend being mortal men and women? To reach for a timeless creature who will never age, or who possesses power beyond the power to love?

I enjoy writing vampires as heroes, oddly, I’m not wild about reading them. How strange does that make me, I wonder??? Never mind, don’t need to know! *lol* I think for me, a lot of the “magic” was spoiled when the trend toward changing the lost creature of the night back into a mere mortal began. It’s the mystique of the unknown, the taming of the wild, inhuman spirit by the overwhelming force of pure love that is really the appeal in all this for me. Also, how many times have you read a story where the long-suffering vampire is noble and hates himself? This is a nice plot device, and serves well for some stories, but realistically would anyone who’d been around for hundreds of years really be noble, self-sacrificing, or all that moral? We’re talking again about beings who exist outside of the realms and constraints of our laws and day to day rituals of life. Isn’t it more “realistic” to assume time itself would teach them they can operate “above the law” and then some!

There is an ageless allure to taming the beast, be it real or mythical, and it works well in fiction, films, and television. It elevates our baser instincts into something a little more noble and honourable in many ways and appeals to the nurturer in all people, most especially women.

I have a number of vampire titles in my catalogue, so drop by my website and have a look. My vampires are not always nice, but they are always compelling and powerful, and very sexy. The book I am currently working on is a vampire romance, set in Sicily, with an ancient Prince as the hero… It’s called “A Perfect Beauty” and I think it will be one of the best things I’ve ever written!

Thanks for chatting today, I am really looking forward to your thoughts about this topic, and in a few days, we’ll pull a name and you can select one of the vampire tales on my site as a prize!! Talk to you soon, and watch the shadows… you never know what might be waiting there to steal your heart, your life, and your will to resist!!!

Blessings,
Denysé

Website: http://www.denysebridger.com
Blog: http://fantasy-pages.blogspot.com
Amore Senza Confini: http://amoresenzaconfini.blogspot.com

Acquisitions Manager/Editor-in-Chief
Absolute X-Press, Romance Division
http://www.absolute-x-press.com

Bad Luck? Check out THE JINX by Jennifer Johnson!

Talk about a house call! All Ellen wanted was to get her ring out of the bathtub drain; what she got was a rude plumber who made her clean out her closet, bled all over her bedroom carpet and fainted, then refused to let her pay her bill! What’s with this guy?
This guy – Rick Braswell – is having a midlife crisis at thirty. Ever since making a house call for that crazy Ellen Anderson, Rick’s crisis has turned into crises. He’s having the worst luck of his life, and every accident and injury involves Ellen. And yet there is something about her that makes Rick want to beat the jinx so he can love the woman.





The Jinx Excerpt:

Rick stalked back toward his desk and sat down on the chair, took a few deep breaths, and waited. He had been doing a lot of that lately. Another minute or so wasn’t going to kill him. The door opened just wide enough for Denise to slip inside. She pushed it shut behind her and sprinted to him.

“She wants to see you.”

“By all means, show her in. And then go home.”

“It’s not five o’clock yet.”

“It is somewhere. Go home.” Rick emphasized the last two words.

“Maybe I should…” Denise shifted from one foot to the other.

Rick gave her a look, which shut her up. She was a good secretary, a caring person, his right hand here. But he wanted her gone. Rick wasn’t sure what was going to happen when Ellen walked through that door, but he anticipated it could get ugly. He’d rather not have a witness here to see his downfall. He had been humiliated enough already in front of too many people. He was sure he was the laughing stock at the hospital. Everybody was getting to know him on a first name basis. Heck. He should get some kind of discount for all the business he had been giving them. He hoped his health insurance didn’t drop him.

Without another word, Denise opened the door and exited. In Richard’s head, the theme from “The Good, the Bad, and the Ugly” began to play. On cue, Ellen appeared.

She turned and faced him. She had the stance of a gunfighter down pat—legs braced, back straight, and stiff posture. And those eyes—those gorgeous blue eyes—were boring into him. He felt like an ant being incinerated by a sun ray through a magnifying glass. The music got louder. She was a heck of a lot prettier than Clint Eastwood.

Dressed in a white sleeveless dress, Ellen was showing a good portion of leg. Her hair was pulled up showing the smooth line of her neck. Rick remembered kissing the soft skin there. He broke out in a sweat. Oh, man. Get thecoffin ready. Rick didn’t think he was going to be the one standing when the smoke cleared.


What are the reviewers saying?

Writers and Readers of Distinctive Fiction gave The Jinx their “Fanstastic. Stays of the Shelf” Button. In their review, WRDF wrote, Jennifer Johnson’s book, The Jinx, is a hilarious read. Following the “courtship” of Ellen and Rick is a study in mishaps at a graduate level.”

The Long and Short of it said, “The author’s skillful writing and slightly warped sense of humor make this a thoroughly delightful read…. Jennifer Johnson is a romantic comedy author to watch.” LASR readers voted The Jinx the Best Book of the Week.

Simply Romance Reviews had this to say: "Written with a flowing style with lots of visual imagery, The Jinx was a hysterical read. The bantering about of the fee for retrieving her ring out of the sink was awe inspiring. Truly entertaining, I kept finding myself wondering what new, horrible ways the author would come up with to torment poor Rick. I started reading this late evening, and really had to force myself to put it down and go to bed. Then I was up first thing the next morning to finish it. Love conquers all, including high insurance rates. Give this lighthearted read a try."

Midnight Rose quipped “Hey! Get your butt out of that chair and give me some cat food.”

Oh, excuse me. That last comment is not a reviewer, but my cat.



BIO:














I grew up as a flower girl named Francesca in Uruguay, making my first “B” movie at fourteen. I was a sensation locally, but, tragically, the world did not appreciate my talents. My lover, Bruno, intent on killing me because of my infidelity, forced me into fleeing to the United States, the land of new beginnings and redemption. I have a dream that I am a North American woman from Alabama, USA. I go to Wesleyan College in Macon, Georgia and later to Columbia Seminary in Decatur, Georgia. I am called to serve in the church as a minister. My dream continues that I marry a man who teaches math and that we have two children who share with us in our happy existence in Kentucky, far away from Uruguay and my checkered past. In my dream, my name is Jennifer Johnson. It is a common, yet lovely name, which allows me to be free from the clutches of Bruno.

Oh, wait. Maybe my dream is my life. Yes, it is! I do, however, love to create other worlds to dream in and fall in love with. I wrote my first love story in seventh grade. It was about two teenagers who meet at beach camp. They get stranded on a top bunk of a bed by a wolf. I kept this epic novel in a bright pink notebook and carried it with me everywhere. It disappeared one day and; alas, the young lovers’ story was never resolved. If I had finished it, it would have been a happy ending because I’m a big believer in happy endings! And I’m still hoping that pink notebook will show up somewhere. P.S. I can’t take credit for Francesca – she’s from an old Kids in the Hall comedy sketch.



Buy THE JINX at http://www.thewildrosepress.com/index.php?main_page=product_info&products_id=936&zenid=4de0c508d5ec10afead9eaaca86f9ca8




Visit Jennifer at: http://jennfrancesca.blogspot.com/

Want Some Sweet, Sexy, and Soulful Romance? Check Out Michelle Cary's New Novel, RANSOMED HEART!

Vanessa Beaumont is desperate to protect her beloved thoroughbred, Ransom from her ex-husband’s clutches. Intent on hiding Ransom at her friend’s farm hidden in the mountains of Pennsylvania , Vanessa falls short of her destination, when she collides with a deer during a summer storm and is forced to rely on the kindness of a stranger to help protect her horse. What she didn’t count on was her own attraction to him or the ease with which she fits into his life.

Sheriff Riley Whitaker thinks nothing of the consequences when he opens his home to Vanessa, but finding out her ex is out to get her spurs Riley’s protective nature. Before long, Riley can’t picture his life without Vanessa in it. When Vanessa’s vindictive ex-husband discovers her whereabouts, placing her life in danger, Riley knows he’ll puts his own life on the line to protect the woman he loves.

“Vanessa.”

She shook her head as she brushed Ransom’s coat. “Go eat, Riley. I’m not mad.”

The pain in her voice struck him deep. “No, you’re hurt. I owe you an apology. You’re right. It’s none of my business who you spend your time with.”

“Fine. I accept your apology. Now go finish your dinner before it gets cold.”

Ignoring her, he stepped inside the stall. Ransom snorted and turned his muzzle to Riley.

“Hey, big man, how you feeling?” He rubbed the roan behind his ears. The horse lifted his head and nibbled at Riley’s arm.

“He likes you,” Vanessa said.

“Why wouldn’t he? I’m a likeable kind of guy.”

She smiled, but only slightly. “That may be, but like I said before, Ransom doesn’t care for men. There are only a few he’d ever allowed to get close.. It was a man who abused him.”

Riley ran his hand down the horse’s neck. The evidence of the stallion’s abuse was apparent beneath the pads of his fingers. “How did you get him?”

“I stumbled across him when I was wandering around the back stables of a track in Nashville . He was shut away, sick and lame. I inquired and found out he was for sale, so I bought him on the spot. It took me a year to get him well.”

“Do you always take in strays?”

She looked up at him, her blue eyes dark under the soft lights of the barn. “No, but there was something about the way he looked at me. It was like he was begging me to save him.”

His heart jumped with the sincerity of her words. She was the kind of woman, he realized, who when she loved, did it with all her heart. “Um, Vanessa. About the other day in my office…”

Her gaze dropped away and she resumed the methodical brushing of Ransom’s coat.

“You don’t have to explain yourself.”

He covered her hand with his, stilling her motion. “I think I do.”

Her pulse scrambled beneath his touch and she quickly pulled away. “Riley—”

Before she could say another word, he tipped her chin with his finger. “I don’t know what it is you’re doing to me, Vanessa, but I know I have to do this..”

Instead of pulling away as he expected her to, she returned his affection, her lips parting in invitation. He crushed his mouth over hers, slipping his tongue past her teeth. The brush hit the floor before her arm snaked around his neck and she melted against him.

His mind raced as he slowly lost himself in her. He’d expected her to pull away, slap him in the face and cuss him out, but not this.

Buy RANSOMED HEART or visit Michelle at www.michellecary.com

Want Some Sweet, Sexy, and Soulful Romance? Check Out Michelle Cary's RANSOMED HEART

Looking For Things That Go Bump In The Night?

Check out Denyse Bridger's new release, Blood Wine and Pale Roses, just in time for Halloween. Here's a sneak peak!

BLOOD WINE AND PALE ROSES

by Denysé Bridger

Available: October 15th, 2008
Genre: Vampire Erotica Novella
Cover by: Nicola Martinez
Publisher/Buy: The Wild Rose Press

Eden Colbourne has spent most of her life pursuing dreams that never quite came true. Running from yet another failed relationship, she seeks solace in the familiar surroundings of England's countryside, and her art. Drawn to the remnants of the abbey, she spends her days sketching the face of a man she believes is a ghost haunting both the abbey and her heart. The reality is even more disturbing...

When Sean Rourke finally reveals himself to her, Eden discovers the ghost is a creature of myth and dark dreams. Turned into a vampire by the man for whom his wife betrayed him, Sean is tormented and lonely, and more afraid of Eden's power to make him love than she is of his nocturnal curse. It isn't until the ancient vampire who made him returns to claim Eden that Sean is forced to decide once and for all if he can let go of the shade of his wife, and permit love to heal what remains of his humanity...

Reviews and a short excerpt can be found on my website: http://www.denysebridger.com/books-BloodWine.html

LETTING LUCE gets another great review!!!!

Letting Luce by Jenny Gilliam is a peach of a book. It is spicy, and yet written with a gentle humour and sensitivity that makes you smile, laugh, and enjoy the situations the pair of friends find themselves mixed up in as buddies, co-workers, and then as lovers. Luce and Rory are a match made in heaven, both as casual friends, and as lovers, and yet the latter is not what either of them are looking for at the start. They are best friends, began that way, and until the fateful day Lucy decided to seduce Rory online where she thought she would be safe, things were sailing along smoothly. Neither Lucy nor Rory are prepared for the next events in the sequence they started, and the cascade of reactions are funny, sad, and yet bring them both closer than they wish to admit. Author Jenny Gilliam has a real winner in Letting Luce, and it gets really huge marks, and is very high on my recommendation list. You can find Letting Luce at Amira Press, so you know what to do…go on now, you won’t regret the purchase!

Yours in good reading,

Rose!~

WRDF Review

Woot-woot!!!

Cover for Under My Skin!!!

Check it out. Can I say...."Looove it!!!!"

UNDER MY SKIN goes to press!

Great news: Amira Press contracted my fourth novel, UNDER MY SKIN. Read on for a sneak peak!


Blurb:

When coffee shop owner Rachel Crowe overhears her neighbor being murdered, she doesn't think her life can get any more complicated. But when the detective on the case turns out to be the very man she kicked out of her store the night before, she realizes she's wrong.

From the moment Detective Alex Williams laid eyes on the raven-haired owner of his favorite coffee shop, he's been drawn to her. When she becomes the key witness in his homicide investigation, he takes it upon himself to protect her at all costs.

As the killer closes in on Rachel, the couple are thrown into very intimate and dangerous situations. Can Alex convince her to trust him before the killer catches up with them?

Excerpt:

The pounding on the door startled a scream out of Rachel, who’d just begun to calm down. Realizing it was likely Alex, she grabbed her full wine glass and walked to the door. With one hand on the Slugger, she checked the peephole.Rachel slid the locks open. “You didn’t have to come.”

Alex barreled past her into the apartment. She shut the door and locked it, laying the Slugger back against the wall.“You were coming apart. I had to do something.”

“I was just scared and acted impulsively. I don’t even know why I called you.”

“Because you were scared.”

“Which we’ve established.” She held up her wine and took a deep breath. “I’m fine now.”

“Bullshit.” “Alex…don’t make this out to be something it’s not. Really, it’s nothing more than the hysterical theatrics of a female. I’m a Pisces. We tend to dramatize everything.”

He blinked.“What?”

“I’m a Pisces.”

“Are you into all that astrology crap?”

“It’s not crap for your information, and yes, I am. My best friend’s an astrologer.”

Alex rolled his eyes. “Let me guess: ‘text 4820 to 825 to receive your latest love match.’”“Oh, shut up.”“The aliens obviously forgot to remove your probe when they dropped you back on earth.”

Rachel’s lips twitched despite herself. “Really. I’m fine. Better than fine.”He looked so innately masculine standing in her feminine apartment. His big, wide shoulders were covered in a black T-shirt that stretched across his muscular, well-defined chest and were tucked into a pair of faded jeans. She wondered if they were the same jeans he’d worn when he’d knocked her on her ass. If so, she wanted him to turn around so she could get a look at his caboose. The man had the finest ass she’d ever seen. O-kay. Time to sip the wine.

Alex stalked around her tiny apartment like a big, untamed tiger. He walked to the baker’s rack where her TV and DVD player sat, tested its sturdiness. He eyed her collection of movies; a lot of murder/mystery, episodes of Cold Case Files and Forensic Files and thrillers with several chick flicks scattered in between.

Rachel sipped her wine and watched his big body move with animal grace as he prowled.Alex stopped at her large book case and scanned the titles. He looked over at her.“Do you have an obsession with death?”

She frowned. “No. I just like forensics and mysteries. Lots of people do.” Mine just started after my husband tried to murder me. Alex made a noncommittal noise and approached her where she stood against the glass veranda door. She smelled the sandalwood on him and her blood began to warm.

He grabbed the wine from her hand and took a sip. “Aren’t you on duty?” she asked.

“Nope.” He sucked wine from the bottom of his lip. Rachel stared at those lips, mesmerized. So mesmerized, she didn’t realize he’d closed in on her until she felt his body heat against her.“What is it about you, Rachel Crowe?” he whispered.

“What do you mean?”

“I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you since I knocked you off that ladder.”

“Maybe you have brain damage from chasing too many murderers.”

He shook his head. “I don’t think so.” He leaned forward, his lips brushing her ear, her neck. “You smell good.”

It had been so long since she’d felt this kind of passion. Too long. Hell, had she ever felt like this? “We shouldn’t be doing this. I’m a witness. And you don’t trust me.”

He placed one large, warm hand on her collarbone. “Trust doesn’t have anything to do with it, Rachel. It rarely does.” Rachel felt sorry for him even while she wanted to leap into his arms and rip his clothes off. He held such little regard for emotions. Each time she’d seen him, the first time notwithstanding, he’d been as aloof as the lone tiger she’d imagined just moments ago.His fingers wrapped around the back of her neck and he drew her face to his. “But, you’re right,” he said, his lips a breath away from hers, “we shouldn’t be doing this.”

Then why did it feel so right? Rachel wondered. Never had she felt so safe, and she reveled in the sensation. He closed the gap and captured her lips with his own.

Oh, Lord.

Wanna little of both? Check out Denyse Bridger's Sweet & Sexy!

Sweet AND Sexy....

First the sweet:

BELLA SIGNORINA
#1 Best-Seller Genre: Sensual contemporary romanceCover by: Nicola MartinezPublisher/BUY: The Wild Rose Press

In one of Rome’s trendiest caffè’s, Bianca Marino comes to dance, and escape the loneliness that haunts her world. For many weeks she's been watching a special man, a handsome, charming stranger who dances, flirts, and leaves alone. Bianca is not anxious to fall in love, and yet… Something about the enigmatic Stefano Esposito has captivated her heart, and she is drawn to him in spite of herself. When she finally gathers her courage to approach him, and ask him to dance, little does she know that her entire world is about to change…

And the very sexy:

MIRAGE
Previously published/REVISED for reprint Genre: Contemporary eroticPublisher/Buy: Liquid Silver Books
When Kristy signed on to be John Smythe's executive assistant, she never imagined falling in love with the coldly handsome and ruthless CEO. Yet, that's precisely what happened. In Smythe's hands, the company prospered, even if his partner didn't. Wheeler Enterprises is in the middle of a fraud investigation when Douglas Wheeler dies, and his only daughter is all that stands between Smythe and complete control of the Wheeler company.

When Detective Peter King comes into the picture, and accuses Smythe of more than corporate dirty-dealing, Kristy's life is suddenly a lot more complicated than she wants it to be...

Visit Denyse at www.denysebridger.com !

Check Out This HOT New Read From Author DEVON GRAY!!!!!

Chapter One

I’ll never forget the first time I saw him. Eyes so gray they were almost silver, hair as black as those summer nights had been, the rich sound of his laughter at something witty my friend, Sara, had said. All of this floated around me, my pulse dancing. But his laugh faded into the moment and he looked at me, the remnants of a smile still on his lips. It was then I felt it. An indescribable sensation at the time, but something I would soon come to know as an energy. A force with the power to take me under, willing or not. His gaze lingered on mine for a moment, a brief, fleeting, substantial moment, and then the connection was gone. His friends enveloped him in their attention, and I watched as the group returned to their table at the other end of the bar. This wouldn’t be the only time I’d see him—a fate I’m still not certain was a blessing or a curse.
Three years have passed since that summer I spent at Sara’s family’s beach house in a town so small South Carolina needn’t have bothered putting it on the map. Three months we were there. Sara on summer break from law school, me on break from my life. You see, artists are never truly satisfied unless they are immersed in their passion, and graduating with an accounting degree because you are too chicken shit to pursue what you really want doesn’t exactly pave the road to creativity. A free summer financed by Sara’s parents was just too good of an opportunity to pass up. I left that office with my pitiful little box of belongings before common sense had a chance to do its job. I promised myself this wouldn’t be a mistake. The time I would spend on hiatus from nothing would clear my head and I would know in which direction to go.
At the time I made the decision I had no way of knowing what that summer would bring. I wouldn’t have been able to imagine the things I would be capable of, the lengths to which I’d end up going. The intensity with which I would yearn. I had no way of knowing about him. The problem with addiction is you crave what you need—whether it is good for you or not.
So, I’ll tell you my story but you must promise not to judge, for what you will hear will not always paint me in the best light. I will come off, at times, as a woman who should have known better. I was told, after all. But if you allow yourself to succumb to a dark place, if you become truly lost, you will do anything…anything to end the pain—if only for a moment.
****
I watched him walk away from the bar, my pulse slowly coming under control. Sara sat next to me, oblivious to the chaos rioting through my bloodstream. Taking a sip of my merlot I turned to face her, trying to shake off what had just transpired.
"So, what do you think of this place?" Sara asked, practically lit up by her excitement of returning to the small beach town where she had spent every summer of her life.
"Great. Crowded," I replied, glancing over my shoulder at the table in the corner.
Sara laughed. "Always. In a town you can barely turn around in there aren’t too many places to hang out."
I smiled, placing my wine glass on the bar top. When Sara began speaking to the bartender, I turned slightly, feigning a stretch. Our eyes met then. His gaze was unwavering, as if staring down a complete stranger was a commonplace event. But if it was so terribly inappropriate, why couldn’t I look away? Who knows how long we stared at one another, but I eventually broke the contact, unnerved to my very core.
Placing my hand on Sara’s arm I cleared my throat. "Hey, I’ll be right back. You said the bathrooms were over there to the right?"
"Yeah, just past the entrance to the restaurant and then down the hall."
I nodded and hopped off the stool, heading in the opposite direction of the molten gray stare I felt on my back as sure as I was breathing. Once I entered the restroom I let a long breath escape, walking to the mirrors. Studying my reflection, I finger combed my mahogany waves and began to silently count. Not a good sign. When numbers became necessary to calm my nerves, I’d already moved one step too far into something I shouldn’t. Shaking my head I retrieved a lipstick from my purse and reapplied, its color nearly matching the deep flush spread across my cheeks.
Somewhat under control, I left the sanctity of the ladies room. I stopped short when I saw him leaning against the wall, drumming his thumb against his jean-clad thigh to the thrum of music emanating from the bar area.
"I knew you’d have to come out of there eventually," he said as he walked toward me, looming over my five-foot-nine frame. "I’m Stone."
He didn’t extend his hand as I would have expected. Instead, he rested it on the wall behind me, hovering just close enough to send my heartbeat skittering.
"Jane," I managed.
"Jane," he said, a slow smile crawling across his lips. "I like that name. See Jane run. Run, Jane, run." My eyes widened and he laughed, reaching out to toy with a tendril of hair that fell across my shoulder. "It’s very nice to meet you, Jane." He made a leisurely perusal of my person, pricks of awareness dancing over my skin. Settling his gray gaze on mine, he ran his finger along my cheekbone. "You’ve got eyes like a cat—jade green and full of mystery. They intrigue me."
With that he left me, speechless, leaning against the wall. He strode toward the bathroom. My eyes tracked him, taking in the long length of his body, the wide stretch of his shoulders, until he disappeared behind the door. Hastily I made my way back to Sara.
"You about ready?" I asked, breathless, eyeing her half-full wine glass like an adversary—a hindrance to my desired speedy departure.
She looked at me with suspicion in her eyes. "Don’t you want to finish your wine?"
Grabbing my glass I drained the last of its contents, setting it down on the bar top with a satisfying thud. "Yes, thanks. How about you?"
The corners of her lips curled in amusement. "What’s going on?"
"Nothing. Just a long day. You know, with the drive and all." Running a hand through my curls, I grasped them at my nape, eyeing Stone from my periphery as he approached. I steadied myself for more embarrassment but he only smiled the most devastating smile I’d yet to encounter and passed by us on the way to his table.
"Now I see."
I glanced back at Sara. "Now you see what?"
"What happened back there that’s made you all jumpy?" she asked.
Glancing over my shoulder, my heart dropped into my stomach as I met the stare digging into my back. I returned my gaze to Sara’s. "Um, nothing really."
Sara crooked her head slightly, looking behind me. "Ah, yes. Madeline’s brother. The girl I introduced you to earlier." She tapped her finger against her forehead. "I can never remember his name…starts with an ‘s’."
"Stone," I offered a little too quickly. Sara’s left eyebrow shot up. "Well," I said, my hand on my hip. "It’s a unique name—hard to forget."
"If you say so." She smiled, toying with the stem of her wine glass. "He was Madeline’s stepbrother before their parents divorced. She only moved here two years ago."
I glanced over my shoulder again. "So, you don’t know him?"
"No. I know of him, though."
My gaze shot back to hers at her tone. "Meaning?"
"Meaning I’ve heard some cautionary tales from Madeline. Apparently he’s somewhat of a player."
Sara polished off her wine and we settled the tab. I could feel the heat of his gaze as it tracked our movement away from the crowded bar. The night air on the other side of the door was a comfort as I followed Sara to the car. My mind raced. One, two, three, four, five…

Buy ADDICTED at http://www.thewilderroses.com/!

Visit Devon's website: http://www.authordevongray.com/

LETTING LUCE Gets a 4/5 Heart Review From Nightowl Romance!

Lucy Hollister has been lusting after her best friend Rory for the past two years. She's far from his normal type, but when she finds out he has one of those personal web pages on the internet she decides to take her fantasizing to a more personal level. When he finds out it's her how will she handle it? Can they go beyond friendship without losing what they once had? Rory Carlisle has built walls around his heart thanks to his brother and his ex-girlfriend, who he found in bed together. Since then he's been playing the field keeping things light. When he finds out that his best friend Lucy has the hots for him he can no longer deny just how much he wants her. When a mysterious woman approaches him online he decides to see if she can keep his mind of how badly he wants Lucy. When he finds out it's her he decides to play along. The question is can he lower his guard enough to let her in?Letting Luce was a heartfelt story with strong characters. I liked that they had flaws, and knew it. To see them working towards overcoming them in the end makes you root for them to succeed. I would recommend picking this one up if you like sassy women.
http://www.nightowlromance.com/nightowlromance/reviews/Review.asp?ReviewId=2154

Recent Interview with Long and Short Romance Reviews!

The Long and the Short of It is very pleased to have Jenny Gilliam with us this week. Jenny is a self-confessed “slightly deranged, definitely neurotic soccer mom author.” With Jenny having two small kids at home, that sounds like it might be an accurate description. She’s currently working on the stand-alone sequel to her third novel, The Truth about Roxy which is being released in November. She said, “It’s a continuation of the characters in the town (of Thorton, Georgia), spotlighting a woman who has just discovered she’s adopted, and the road she travels as she finds her way home, in the metaphorical sense.” Along with that, she’s “binge-editing” her fourth novel and seeking a publisher. Jenny also told me she’s currently in the throes of writer’s block. “I’d love to say that I just push through it all the time,” she told me, “but that would be a lie. I let the story I’m working on percolate at the back of my brain while I do other things—taking care of the kids, working, etc. Eventually, the drive comes back. I do try and write every day, even if I only eek out a paragraph or two. I’m hoping the RWA National Conference I’m attending soon will help amp me up for writing.”I asked Jenny about her writing space. Her family just moved this past winter into a brand new house in Oregon, “where it rains eight months out of the year.” Because of this, they painted the formal living room, which they converted into her home office, a bright orange. It has, she told me, “pictures of fairies and other mythical creatures gracing the walls.” Her mother-in-law printed copies of Jenny’s novel covers, which are in picture frames on her bookshelf.She told me the hardest part of writing her book, when she’s in the zone, is not writing it. “I have two small children at home who require all my attention, so finding time to write was something of a difficult enterprise. However, I managed to grab time—if the four novels I wrote in a little over a year are any indication.” Because of the kids, her writing schedule consists of “when I can... it’s not easy, but I’ll sacrifice a little sleep to get my writing done. I’ll stay up late and write and get up early in the morning. Any time I can get a moment and I feel like writing, I do it.”One thing she doesn’t do though, is pick up pennies that are tails-up. “Even if they are in my house on the floor,” she confessed. “I’ll make my kids pick ’em before I will. I think it will bring me bad luck. Which, of course, begs the comment: I’m willing to let my kids take on the bad luck? Bad Mommy.”She also confessed that, not only does she cry during movies, she cries during commercials and previews. “I’m a fairly (understatement of my life) emotional person,” she said. “Even though I know it’s not real, it doesn’t stop the waterworks.”And, along with the rest of the true confessions, she admitted that yes, she has made a crank phone call before. Then she told me, “What’s really sad is that I still make them. My husband and I used to get bored at night and prank call my parents. Relatively immature, but there it is. ’Course with Caller ID, it’s a lot harder these days. Bummer.” Then she added, with a laugh, “Can I have your number?” Ah... no.And, finally, the most important question of all...the one everyone has been holding their collective breath waiting for the answer of: can Jenny tell the difference between Coke and Pepsi. “To my way of thinking,” she said, “there are two kinds of people in this world: Pepsi people and Coke people. I’m definitely a Coke girl. Pepsi is sweeter and goes flat faster, whereas Coke has more fizz and a bit more kick. I drink so much of it, I could be the spokesgal for Diet Coke.”

THE WEDDING WAR gets another great review!

Long and Short Romance Reviews reviewed THE WEDDING WAR. Check it out:

Mia Briscoe is excited to have the opportunity of a lifetime to plan the wedding of her best friend, Jillian. With her business, Weddings by Mia, not doing so well, planning her best friend’s wedding would boost her clientele since Jillian’s family is big in society. Furthermore, nothing beats planning her best friend’s wedding. Hence, she expected to meet the difficult-to-please bride’s mother, the jittery bride and the last minute wedding details. However, what she did not expect to find was Jake Ryan, a man trying to stop the wedding from ever taking place.Jake could not believe that his brother Gabe had gotten himself trapped into marriage. Vowing to rescue him from his foolish decision and make him see reason, he arrives at the place of the wedding. After all, marriages never work out and love is just a scientific phenomenon. His father destroyed himself over the love of one woman. And that was not going to happen ever again to another man from the Ryan family. What he did not expect to encounter was Mia Briscoe, the feisty wedding planner, and a firm believer in love and marriage.The Wedding War was a fast-paced and exciting read. Jake and Mia’s relationship is developed realistically and their ups and downs are funny and interesting to read. The supporting characters that were also part of the story, added to developing a well-written and well-thought out novel that is sure to entertain. Child and parental abuse is a major theme in the novel and I believe that the author has done a great job in portraying the seriousness and consequences of such actions. I would definitely recommend this book to anyone looking for a interesting, as well as a thought provoking, read.

LASR is holding a contest for the best book of the week! Go and vote for me (please, pretty please!!!)

http://www.longandshortreviews.com/LASR/recentrev.htm

De-NIED!

Well, I finally heard back from the editor looking over my fourth MS. Can you sing it with me? R-E-J-E-C-T-I-O-N! On the plus side, she did say that if I fixed some of the problems she'd be happy to look at it again.

So, now I actually have something to do since my writing is at a virtual stand-still. May submit to my other publisher. Not sure. Or try and get an agent. But I'm so flippin' terrified I won't write another novel, 'cause the words just aren't coming.

Arg.

JULY CONTEST!!!!

E-mail me at jenny@jennygilliam.com with the answer to the following question by July 4 and receive a free e-copy of my latest release, LETTING LUCE!

What are the names of the heroes & heroines in my 3 books (The Wedding War, Letting Luce, and The Truth About Roxy)?

Winner will be announced on Saturday, July 5!

Good Luck!

Please Welcome Fellow Author Kathleen Grieve and her New Release, The Doctor's Deception!

Please check out this fantastic gem, released tomorrow, 6/25/08 from The Wild Rose Press!

THE DOCTOR'S DECEPTION

BY KATHLEEN GRIEVE

BLURB:

Heart Surgeon Stone Lassiter has successfully transplanted beating hearts. It's his own that is causing him the most agony. With a death bed promise to his fiancée, he's driven to open a transplant center in her hometown, and arrives at Deerborne County General Hospital . Single minded in his focus, he inadvertently alienates the nursing staff he needs to make his dream a success. He sets his stethoscope on intensive care nurse, Faith Daniels, to improve his image. Nurse of the Year, Faith Daniels has passed every nursing exam, but when faced with the task of the MCAT, she has severe test anxiety. Burned by her ex-husband, who used her while she put him through law school, she has become focused on passing that darn exam, and achieving her own dream to become a doctor in her own right. Will the white lie Stone tells Faith jeopardize the love they find?

EXCEPRT:

While glancing at her watch, Faith repeatedly pushed the button to call the elevator. Almost eight-thirty. With a groan, she cursed herself again for leaving her study guide in the nurses' lounge. After exiting the parking garage, she'd remembered she didn't have the book with her and had hurried back inside to retrieve it.
Staying after her shift to finish her charting had cost her precious study time. Her patient who'd had the appendectomy had to go back to surgery, but not before she'd had to give him several units of blood to stabilize him. Thank goodness he was going to be okay. She tapped her toe impatiently. What was taking the elevator so darn long? The evening hours were rapidly dwindling. Her thoughts trailed back to the MCAT. She'd made it a habit to review a portion of the test each night before going to bed, and she hadn't even had dinner yet. All she wanted was someone to rub her aching feet and feed her
Was that so much to ask?
She sighed, and her stomach rumbled loudly while she waited for the elevator that would take her back to the parking garage.Chinese sounded good. Should she call ahead and order take out to pick up on the way home? There was a book full of to-go menus in the nurses' lounge where she could easily find what she needed. She glanced up at the lights outside the closed elevator doors. Still stuck on floor nine.
Decision made, she turned and ran straight into a solid wall of muscle. Knocked back from the impact, her purse went in one direction and her MCAT book flew in another. Strong arms enveloped her in a secure grip, keeping her from falling on the floor.
Pressed to the man's chest, the familiar lemony scent hit her first. Dread roiled in the pit of her stomach. Faith knew who held her. She forced herself to tilt her head back and peer into eyes reminiscent of a block of hardened deep chocolate.
Doctor Stone Lassiter.
Her earlier thought returned. What would it be like to melt that chocolate? Too bad she didn't even own a fondu pot. Warmth crept up her neck and into her cheeks. "Sorry. I'm in a rush."
His eyes narrowed, but he made no move to release her. "Are you late for a date?"
Faith had difficulty concentrating on his words. Heat burned through her scrubs and settled low in her belly. "Wh-what?"
"You know? A date? Where two people go to share a meal or a movie?"
The deep timber of his voice slid up her spine, and she shivered. "A date?"
"You're not usually this dense, Faith."
The sardonic expression on his face snapped her out of the fugue-like state and sparked her temper. "Gee, thanks for the confidence booster. You can let go of me now, Dr. Lassiter. I'm in no danger of falling any longer."

Surprise lit his eyes and he released her. Bending, he picked up her book and purse from the floor. He glimpsed the cover of the study guide and appeared puzzled. "The MCAT? You're studying to get into med school?"
Faith snatched the book out of his hands. "That's none of your business." Her gaze touched on her handbag. "I'll take my purse. Like I said, I'm in a hurry."
He retained her purse and stared at her with penetrating eyes. "Have you eaten?"
"No. I was going to pick something up on my way home. Why?" she asked warily.
"Because I have a proposition for you. We'll talk about it over dinner."
Let's see. Dinner with the self-important Greek Adonis or study? Cozying up with her study guide for the night seemed to hold even larger appeal all of a sudden.
Faith laughed. "Oh, that's rich. I may have appeared dense to you a few minutes ago Dr. Lassiter, but I'm not stupid. There is nothing you could possibly have to say outside of work that would interest me in the least."
He grabbed the book from her unsuspecting hands.
"Hey! What are you doing?"
"This is what we have to discuss, Faith." He smiled without humor and jiggled the book in front of her, just out of her grasp.
Hands on her hips, Faith stared at him. Dr. Lassiter was acting completely out of character for the second time that day. "I think I like your snide, arrogant persona better. I wasn't aware you belonged on the fourth floor with the other psych patients when you were off duty."
He scowled, smoothed his red tie, and buttoned his navy suit jacket. "I'm not snide or arrogant."
Faith chuckled. "It's rather interesting, don't you think, you didn't deny you belonged on the psych ward." Sobering, she held out her hand. "Really, I'd love to stay and exchange insults with you all day, but I have to get home. My stuff, please."
He started to hand it over to her, then pulled it just beyond her reach. "I heard the nurses talking in the med room a while ago. They said you froze up while taking the exam. Is that true, Faith? Do you have test anxiety?"
Her amusement died. She felt the color drain from her face. Damn gossips. She stiffened her spine and straightened to her full height of five-foot-eight inches.
"So what if I do," she admitted, hating the defensive tone that had crept into her voice. "Lots of people have trouble taking tests."
"Then it appears we have something important to discuss, after all." He gave her an engaging smile. "I'm even willing to overlook the fact you called me arrogant and snide and pay for dinner. I can help you with your problem if you help me with a little problem of my own."
Faith opened her mouth to make another sarcastic comment. What kind of problems did this guy have? He seemed to have everything. She had several suggestions for his "little problem".
He held up a finger, halting her before she spoke. "Ah, I'd watch it, Faith. I'm only going to make this offer once. How badly do you want to score high marks on the entrance exam? Or better yet, how bad do you want to get into med school?"
Now, that was a loaded question. Damn him. He played dirty. It was just like him to use her dream to get what he wanted. Faith expected no less from the conceited jerk. She'd give everything she had and more, and he knew it. Her dreams had been put on hold long enough. The only thing standing between her and med school was the damn test.
Maybe he could help her. After all, he was a doctor and had taken the exam. What could it hurt to hear what he had to say? Dubious about his intentions, but curious all the same, Faith nodded. She was starving. "All right, Dr. Lassiter. Do you like Chinese?"

Buy it at www.thewildrosepress.com!

Visit Kathleen at www.kathleengrieve.com

Visit Kathleen's blog, Keeping a Pulse on Life & Romance at www.kathleengrieve.blogspot.com

I'm featured at Author Denyse Bridger's Blog!

Come on by and check it out! www.fantasy-pages.blogspot.com

Whoo-hoo!

Interview with Manic Readers

Interview with Jenny Gilliam For Manic ReadersMay 8, 2008

Hi Jenny,
I’m so glad for the opportunity to interview a romance author – not just another romance author – but, you have a distinctive style, insist on the HAP – as you call it, and your ideas are certainly unique as your titles suggest. So while I am as curious as a cat in a room full of cat nip—I’m sure our readers are too.


First up tell us a little about Jenny Gilliam. Who is she, where does she hail from, how’d she get her start in writing the romance the way she does it? I know a lot of this is on your bio but, it’s so fascinating I know our readers would like to hear about it right here.

Well, I’m originally from Portland, Oregon, but we moved to a small (and when I say small, I mean, blink and it’s gone) in the coastal mountain range. We live on ten acres overlooking the mountains. It’s beautiful.

As for my start, I’ve always been a sucker for romance. Any movie I watch(ed)—even as a child—I watched for the romantic element. When I started writing at age 10, my stories forever contained the Happy Ever After (HAP) element.

Two years ago, I joined Romance Writers of America and a local chapter, where I became instantly inspired. I was like a sponge; soaking up as much information on the craft as I could. Since then, I’ve been writing toward the goal of publication. And recently succeeded.

If I was to visit you on your off hour – when you are not writing — what would you be doing? Favorite hobby, interests?

When I’m not writing, I’m cleaning house—not my favorite hobby or interest, but I’m a stay-at-home-mom with a 2 ½ y/o and a 5 ½ y/o, so it’s cleaning and getting snacks, making meals, etc. When I have a little time to myself, I love to read, knit and sew. I’m big into crafts.

Your first published title makes me want to ask about this crazy juxtaposition of words The Wedding War? Tell us about the book – also, how did you come up with that title? I love it.

Here’s the back cover blurb:

What happens when a fairytale-believing wedding planner and a jaded hot-rod builder who thinks love is nothing more than a chemical reaction end up on opposite sides of the aisle at the wedding of her best friend and his brother? A wedding war erupts.

Jake Ryan will do just about anything to keep his brother from making the same mistake he made. He’s convinced there won’t be a wedding because he’s out to stop it. Mia Briscoe’s determined this will be the most spectacular wedding she’s ever planned. And when she discovers the groom’s brother is out to break up the happy couple? The battle begins.

Jake and Mia have both suffered deep emotional wounds that prevent them from making lasting connections. And both are baffled by the intense feelings they bring out in each other. Can Mia teach Jake that love is something to cherish and not loathe? And if she can, will he be strong enough to bury his past so they can have a chance at a future together?

Mia and Jake have such a hard time getting together—and along—that I thought The Wedding War would be perfect. They’re two people on opposite sides of the aisle, fighting for what each of them believes in.


How long did it take you to write The Wedding War? What was finding a publisher process like?

It took me about two months to write The Wedding War. Actually, I wrote 3 full length novels last year. I get into what my husband refers to as the ‘twillight writing zone” when I work. Things like food and water go to the wayside when I’m on a project.

Finding a publisher was an eye-opening, albeit painful, experience. I’m a sensitive gal (dubbed “The Drama Queen” by friends and loved ones), so the rejections, or passes, as my good friend Eli says, hurt. But, I pushed past them and kept moving forward.

The former president of my local chapter, fellow TWRP author Paty Jager, turned my attention to The Wild Rose Press and the world of e-publishing. I was on the fence for a while, but decided to go ahead and take the plunge. It was the best career decision I’ve made.

The Wedding War has received some really great reviews – Did you know exactly what you were doing when you wrote it – or was it more of a seat of the pants lets see what happens kind of thing? Did you have any kind of an outline?
Did you have a publisher in mind when you wrote it?

I’d originally written it for Harlequin’s Blaze line (rejected). It was the first time I’d ever used an outline for a novel. Usually, I outline (note taking is more like it—I have notebooks filled with novel plot points) as I go, but I used a concept I’d gleaned from a reference book: index cards. I wrote down the key plot points in the novel on the index cards, spread them out in chronological order, then filled in the blanks. It made the writing process a lot easier. Of course, the characters changed their minds about some of the things, so it wasn’t an exact science.

You’ve just contracted your second book with Wild Rose publishing – Congratulations. The second book tells people for sure you are not just a one book wonder. Tell us about The Truth About Roxy — I love the premise for this one. I just know it will be a lot of fun to read.

Here’s the blurb:

Roxy Palmer is a walking, breathing cliché. And darned tired of it.
Working as the assistant librarian in her small, Southern home town, Roxy also anonymously pens the local love column, Ask Paula Rockwell—Thorton, Georgia's answer to Dear Abby.

But when the door leading to Roxy's lifetime dream is slammed in her face by one of the good ol' boys, Roxy brings out the big guns--and turns the genteel town upside down with her racier, feminist, home-wrecking new format.

Paula Rockwell is making Sheriff Noah Kennedy's life crazy. He's got angry husbands lined around the block, demanding the cancellation of the column, fights breaking out and women catching their boyfriends' trucks on fire. If he ever gets his hands on that woman…

But he's got his hands full of Roxy at the moment, and if he ever discovers the truth about Roxy, all hell will break loose.

I’ve also sold a third novel to Amira Press called Letting Luce. Here’s another blurb:

When Lucy Hollister tried to drop-kick her personal computer out her second-story window, she had no idea it would eventually lead to the seduction of her very hot, very yummy best friend, Rory Carlisle. After all, she’s the queen of passivity, and he’s the reining king of the non-committed relationship. When a sexy online flirtation leads the couple into some steamy situations, Rory realizes that his cute best friend is letting loose—in the best possible way. Can this couple get past old hurts and guarded hearts to embrace the passionate love that awaits?

What comes first for you Character or Plot? Do you do a detailed character sketch for your main characters before you start?

It really depends. Sometimes, the characters start conversing in my head before any kind of plot develops; other times it’s the reverse. I always sketch out my characters before I start a novel.

Where do you get your ideas for your stories?

I’m an extremely nosy person by nature, and I also think way too much. This leads to the ‘what if’ factor. Often times, I get a kernel of an idea from the lyrics of a song, or watching a person walking down the road when I’m driving. Just going into the world creates a plethora of creative opportunities for me.

Many writers, especially new writers it seems have problems with writer’s block. Do you ever experience this, if you do how do you deal with it? If you never have, what do you attribute that to?

I don’t believe in writer’s block, I believe in the fear of failure. I’m struggling with this myself right now; I’ve started my fifth novel—the first one since I’ve been published. It was slow going at first—I had to force myself to sit down and write everyday. It was excruciating; I would write and say, “This is going to suck!” Then I’d take a look at it and say, “Okay, this isn’t bad.” Which is ultimately what kept me writing. I call it the sophomore slump. I think any kind of writer’s block can ultimately be attributed to fear or something in the subconscious. Whether or not the writer wants to admit it.

You seem to have a very full schedule when I looked at your events list – chats, interviews, conferences and you write a newsletter quarterly. What kind of marketing advice would you give a new writer that wants to brand themselves, get their name out there?

When I learned that I would be in charge of most of my own promotion, I wanted to cry. I couldn’t sell firewood to Eskimos. But, I started by getting my name out there on loops; giving kudos to other writers. It’s like karma; treat others how you wish to be treated and the world will be kind. Does that make sense? After that, I just heard by word of mouth (or email) about different groups, such as Manic Readers, and put myself out there with a request. I made up some simple business cards that I hand out (and coerced my parents into handing out). I’m not sure about pens or bookmarks yet, since I’ve heard they’re not that great a marketing tool. We’ll see.

How do you family and friends respond to you now that you are a published romance author?

They are all very proud, but basically, I’m still the same old Jen to them. My husband keeps asking when he can quit his job, so I support him. I just laugh. At him.

Are there any other genres that you would like to write in that you haven’t explored yet? Why or why not?

I’ve always been interested in true crime, but I don’t know if I have the chutzpa to interview serial killers. The last novel I wrote is a romantic suspense. I adore forensic shows and have a lot of respect for detectives and those in the field. I could see myself moving into the romantic suspense genre. But, I don’t think I could ever completely cross over into mystery. There’s not always the HAP. Have to have the HAP.

Do you have anything in the works now?

As I mentioned above, I’m currently at work on my fifth novel, the stand-alone sequel to The Truth About Roxy.

Where do you see yourself in five or ten years from now?

I want is to be able to write for a living. That’s all I want. A bestseller or two would be nice, too. (*cheeky grin*)

Thank you so much Jenny for spending part of your busy day answering our questions here. Would you please tell our readers where they might find out more about you, your books and where they can buy them?

Thanks so much for having me! It’s been a pleasure.

You can purchase The Wedding War (available now in digital and print form) from The Wild Rose Press (http://www.thewildrosepress.com/), which is also where The Truth About Roxy will be available soon. My third novel, Letting Luce, will be coming soon from Amira Press (http://www.amirapress.com/).

I have a website http://www.jennygilliam.com/, on which I’m starting a new quarterly newsletter. I’m encouraging readers and fellow writers to add their names to the list by shipping me an email. I also have a myspace page www.myspace.com/jennygilliam and a blog http://www.jennygilliam.blogspot.com/.


I look forward to seeing more work by you. I hope you’ll let us help you announce new books as they get accepted. Many Sales to You and Write Like the Wind

Interviewed by: Billie A. Williams at Manic Readers

LETTING LUCE has a release date!!!!

So, I heard from the editor-in-chief at my new publisher, Amira Press, today. She gave me my release date for my second novel, Letting Luce. THIS FRIDAY!!!!! Whoo-hoo!!!! Doesn't leave me much time to hop back on the promotional band wagon, especially since I'm watching my neighbor's three kids on top of my own two, but what the hey.

So excited.....

AND....I just got my first quarter sales report for The Wedding War...I SOLD 58 books in 10 days!!!! Totally blew me away.

Cheers!

May Interview with Joyfully Reviewed!

It sounds like you have always been a writer. When did you start focusing on getting published?

I started pursuing publication a little over two years ago when I joined RWA and my local RWA chapter. I’d written for years and always wanted to be a published author, but I never actually finished anything until recently.

Tell us what makes Jenny tick.

Oh, boy. How long do you have? Love. Love is what makes me tick. Well, that and coffee. J Love for my husband, my children, my family, coffee. It’s what keeps me going and helps me write. The love part. Well, the coffee, too.

How do your stories develop? Is it with a character, a scene, a location, or in an entirely different way?

It really depends on the story. Often times, characters start rambling in my mind, or I get a snippet of a scene or plot and I go from there. I have a little notebook I keep in my purse where I write down ideas when the muse of inspiration hits.

Tell us some of your favorites…foods, movies, music, authors, books, colors, and any others you want to share?

I love potatoes in any way, shape or form (except potato salad). Mostly, I love French fries. I’m a huge fan of gangster movies: The Godfather Trilogy, Casino, Goodfellas, The Departed. Martin Scorscese is my own personal god. I love alternative rock and country. A bit of an eclectic mix, I know. Country music always has a story to tell, which is why I adore it.
My favorite authors are Rachel Gibson, Jonathan Kellerman, Dean Koontz, Susan Elizabeth Phillips and Sherillyn Kenyon. I love so many books, it would be difficult for me to choose one, although See Jane Score by Rachel Gibson is one of my all-time favs.

Do you enjoy hearing from your readers and what is the best way to contact you?

I love hearing from my readers. I can be reached at jenny@jennygilliam.com. I’m starting a quarterly newsletter, so those readers who want to receive it can shoot me an email, as well.

Do you have any advice for aspiring writers? What was the best piece of advice that you received when you were starting out?

Keep writing no matter what. Even if you only write a sentence one day and two pages the next, keep writing! It’s the only way you’ll ever finish. Also, joining a local writer’s group, such as your local RWA chapter and gleaning whatever information relevant to the craft is a great help. It’s also a good way to network and meet other writers/authors.

How do you promote your work?

To be honest, I’ve been promoting so much, I feel like my own pimp. LOL. I started by joining loops or listservs geared toward romance writing such as Chatting With Joyfully Reviewed. I’m getting to know other writers online. I’ve also requested author interviews and spotlights. I’ve done 4 so far. So, basically, I just put myself out there. I’ve also created business cards that I hand out at any available opportunity and roped my relatives into giving them out, too.


How would you spend a perfect day?

Honestly? Writing. And then shopping.

Are your friends and family your greatest supporters? Do they read your work?

Absolutely. My family is uber supportive of my writing career. One of my mother-in-laws reads everything I write before I submit. She’s my ‘first reader.’ I thought I would have to guilt them into buying my work, but they all jumped on board and did the honors themselves. I’m lucky to have such a supportive crew.

Do you believe in happily ever after and have you found yours?

I am a full believer in the HAP (happily-ever-after). What’s the point without it? Love is a powerful, all-consuming emotion. It moves mountains. I’m incredibly blessed to have found my own hero. We’ll be celebrating our tenth anniversary next year. He’s my rock. I’d be lost in this world without him.
When writing do you plan the story out before beginning or does it develop as you write?

Both. I write a short outline, but usually the characters change their minds and declare mutiny on said outline. I end up going where the characters go since they lead the story.

What is your guilty pleasure?

Teehee. Venti 3 shot Carmel Macchiato from Starbucks. Yum!

THE TRUTH ABOUT ROXY

Roxy Palmer is a walking, breathing cliché. And darned tired of it.
Working as the assistant librarian in her small, Southern home town, Roxy also anonymously pens the local love column, Ask Paula Rockwell—Thorton, Georgia's answer to Dear Abby.
But when the door leading to Roxy's lifetime dream is slammed in her face by one of the good ol' boys, Roxy brings out the big guns--and turns the genteel town upside down with her racier, feminist, home-wrecking new format.
Paula Rockwell is making Sheriff Noah Kennedy's life crazy. He's got angry husbands lined around the block, demanding the cancellation of the column, fights breaking out and women catching their boyfriends' trucks on fire. If he ever gets his hands on that woman…
But he's got his hands full of Roxy at the moment, and if he ever discovers the truth about Roxy, all hell will break loose.



EXCERPT 1:
"Rox?"
Noah checked in the kitchen, found it empty, and then opened the door that led to the basement. His light shout received no response. He figured she was up in the library, and he headed up there, sliding his hand up the smooth balustrade as he went. He hadn’t spent much time on the second floor, but he knew she only used a couple of the rooms.
Taking a guess, he turned left at the top of the stairs and stopped at the first door he came to. He turned the knob and pushed it open.
Sweet Jesus on a foot stool.
The room certainly wasn’t the library, and Noah would’ve have been hard-pressed to admit that the naked woman toweling herself off inside was a librarian.
Roxy stood next to the bathtub, long, inky curls dripping water that rolled down soft, pink skin. Legs—good God, the woman had miles of legs—gave way to lush, feminine curves.
Curves she had no business having.
She faced slightly away, so he only got a partial view of plump, full breasts, a tease of a rosy nipple. Round tush.
Sweet Jesus on a foot stool.
It took Roxy a moment to feel the draft hit her naked backside. Pausing as she toweled her hair, she looked over. And froze.
Noah Kennedy, her pal, the man she’d secretly lusted after for years, stood there, gaping at her.
She couldn’t move. Oh, God, she couldn’t move an inch. Noah watched her and his expression, a cross between shock and ire, might’ve have been amusing if the whole situation wasn’t so humiliating. Heat crept from her naked breasts and traveled upwards until her face flamed. He stood there watching her as she watched him. Roxy finally regained control of her motor skills and whipped the towel around her naked body.
"Noah!"
He looked dazed. "What? Oh, sorry. God. Sorry." He pulled the door closed. Loud.
Roxy’s heart thudded painfully in her chest. She clutched the towel to her breasts as she let out a shaky breath. She heard of the sound of Noah’s footsteps beating a hasty retreat down the hall.
Almost fearfully, she glanced in the beveled mirror above the sink. Her hair looked almost black, the curls dripping water, framing a face that had flushed from the steam and the encounter with Noah. Water trickled down her shoulders, disappearing beneath the towel to the slope of her breasts.
Oh, God, how much had he seen?
How long had he been standing there before she noticed him? Five seconds? Ten? Long enough to shock him, obviously. He’d run from the room as though the hounds of hell were on his heels. She moaned in embarrassment, wanting nothing more than to bury her head in her towel and lock herself inside the bathroom for the rest of her life.
She couldn’t do that, of course. Roxy imagined he waited downstairs, and if she knew him, he’d be rehearsing a speech that mixed apathy with humor—"Hey, I’ve seen you naked before. Remember when we were kids?"—ensuring there’d be no tension between them.
Roxy would have to hide her humiliation and pretend it was no big deal, too. The problem being, she sucked at hiding her feelings. Well, you’ve done a damn good job so far, Rox. You can do this, too. Either that, or Noah was very aware of her infatuation and had no interest in pursuing it further. Humiliation rose anew, and her cheeks grew even hotter. She could take rejection, but not his pity.
"Crap," she said to her reflection.
She opened the door an inch, waited a few moments, and then poked her head out. No one in the hall. Some part of her hoped he’d be waiting to sweep her off her feet and carry her to bed like she’d always imagined, even as the rational part of her brain screamed it would never happen. Noah liked women like Connie Willows—tiny, petite, feminine women who looked like they’d be blown over by a stiff wind. Not a five-foot-ten-inch Amazon with wide hips and a big butt.
Oh, Lord. Had he seen her butt?
She slipped out of the bathroom and into her bedroom where she quickly donned her most figure-concealing outfit—purple sweats. She shoved her size-ten feet into her white and pink bunny slippers and faced the inevitable.
Apparently, this was one confrontation that would have to wait. When she went downstairs, Noah had disappeared. She checked the entire house and then out front, but his Explorer was gone. This was even worse that she thought. Discomfiture caused her stomach to churn, and she placed a trembling hand against her middle.
Roxy closed the door and leaned against it with a heavy sigh.
For crying out loud. She’d scared him away.

LETTING LUCE

BLURB:
When Lucy Hollister tried to drop-kick her personal computer out her second-story window, she had no idea it would eventually lead to the seduction of her very hot, very yummy best friend, Rory Carlisle.
After all, she’s the queen of passivity, and he’s the reining king of the non-committed relationship. When a sexy online flirtation leads the couple into some steamy situations, Rory realizes that his cute best friend is letting loose—in the best possible way.
Can this couple get past old hurts and guarded hearts to embrace the passionate love that awaits?

EXCERPT:
If inanimate objects could talk, Lucy Hollister would lay odds this one was giving her the finger right now.
The ruined computer tower sat on her bathroom floor, mocking her, the tail end of her graphic design project stuck somewhere in its depths.
A project due on her boss’s desk tomorrow.
The damn thing seemed to be gloating. "Just give me one reason," she taunted, "why you shouldn’t be a recycled can opener. I’ll do it."
The phone rang. Lucy picked it up, still eyeing the moronic machine. "Consider yourself saved."
"Yeah?" Fury and frustration burned through her, leaving her manners checked at the door. Or, more accurately, on the bathroom floor. At this point, she didn’t give a monkey’s butt if Emily Post herself waited on the line.
"Lucy?"
Her pulse jumped and little bombs of pleasure detonated in her at the sound of Rory Carlisle’s voice. "Hey."
Loud music played in the background, interlaced with several voices. He must be at Barney’s, thinking of their favorite bar.
"What’s up? You sounded weird on your message." His deep baritone, flavored with a thick Texas accent, flowed like warm honey over her bones. Warm honey she wanted Rory to lick off her body.
Get your mind out of the gutter, Hollister. Before her temporary leap from sanity, Lucy had placed a Mayday call to her best friend, and incidentally, the IT manager at her design firm, leaving a message that provided only the basics: "my computer’s broken"—which it was, technically, albeit in actual pieces—and "help"—which she needed.
"My computer’s broken," Lucy said again.
"Yeah, I got that part. What happened?"
"Um, it just…broke."
"They don’t just break, Lucy," he said, in his Master of the Universe voice, the one that hinted at his superiority in matters of technology.
"This one did."
He sighed. "Explain it to me."
In the background, she heard a husky female voice speak Rory’s name in a low tone filled with promise. He murmured something soft to the woman and they laughed, and a hot spurt of pure jealousy lanced through Lucy. Must be on another date.
Silenced stretched over the phone, and Lucy figured whatever distracted Rory were just boobs and a sexy voice. Nothing unusual there, she thought grimly. The man went through women like a box of Kleenex. A few moments later, Rory said, "Luce? Are you there?"
Her gaze cut over to the bathroom where the evidence of her carnage lay bruised and broken on the floor. This would be the hard part. Rory was of those weird techno-geeks who abhorred violence against machines. Go figure.
Then again, she’d committed capital murder.
"Well, see, it started smoking, which I took as a sign of impending doom."
Rory groaned.
"Then it popped."
"What did you do, Lucy?" Rory asked, worry for the fate of technology evident in his voice.
She hesitated a moment. He would take the news hard. Better to give it to him fast, ripping it off like a band-aid. She bit her lip, fearing his reaction. "I sort of tried to drop kick it out my bathroom window."
Lucy winced when Rory didn’t respond. Beyond him, guitar riffs and a crooning voice echoed into a microphone.
"Never thought to call me first?" he asked at length.
"Well, I thought that would be evident since you’re returning my call."
"I’m pretty sure I’m going to regret asking this, but why the bathroom window?"
"The community dumpster is right under it."
"Jesus H. Christ, woman. Where is the damn thing now? In pieces all over the concrete?" His frustration reached her from twenty miles away, and she winced again. "Your damned lucky no one decided to take out their trash when you decided to lose your fricking mind."
"Really, if you want to place blame, my landlord would be a fine start," Lucy said with rancor, referring to Arnold F. Granger, Landowner, or that rat bastard slumlord as he was better known by the tenants who occupied his five townhouses. "If he’d decided like a normal person to give each house its own trashcan, I wouldn’t have been forced to lob it into the dumpster."
"Taking it down there like a normal person slipped your mind, I take it."
"Had you been listening," she continued, railroading over him, "you would’ve realized I laid emphasis on the word tried. The use of deductive reasoning would conclude my plan failed."
"I repeat: Where is the damn thing now?"
Once again, Lucy’s eyes moved to the bathroom. "It’s on the bathroom floor."
"Still in one piece?"
"Ah, that’s debatable. I may have heard a rattle when I kicked it."
"You know what, forget about explanations. Nothing you can tell me will refute this truth: you are absolutely, one-hundred-percent nuts."
"This is not news, Rory."
"Don’t touch the computer. Back the hell away from it, go downstairs, have some tea. I’m on my way. Don’t touch it," he warned again before ending the connection.
She’d pissed him off, but that was a natural ability she possessed, and it wasn’t just Rory who enjoyed the benefits. Although, his reactions were the most entertaining and fulfilling, at least in Lucy’s masochistic mind, because he always riled her. Lucy must be insane if she scrambled after the breadcrumbs of his ire.
Her two-year-old Boston Terrier, aptly named, The Beast, stood at her feet, his cropped ears perked and little smashed snout cocked at an angle while he studied his mistress.
"Don’t even start with me, dog."
Feeling a throb, Lucy looked down at the thigh she’d scratched during her ‘episode’ and winced. She really needed to get that cleaned up.
One floor down, her doorbell rang, followed by a series of rapid knocks. The Beast’s black head perked up before he tore out of the bathroom, his shrill barks traveling through her townhouse as he focused his ire on the visitor.
Lucy fished out a few tissues from a box on her desk. She held them to her scratched thigh and hurried down the stairs, trying not bleed on the carpet and incur any more home improvement charges. Between the cost of repairing her hacked bathroom floor and the blasted computer, she’d be broke.
In her mind, she heard her mother’s voice. You brought this on yourself, Lucille. Her impulsiveness, or what her mom referred to as her "tendency toward melodrama," had landed in her in one form of trouble or another her whole life. Lucy liked to think it made life more interesting. But to her family, it just drove their theory home: Lucy needed divine intervention.
Lucy knew before she opened the door her elderly and extremely nosy neighbor, Mr. Waverly, would be standing on her front porch step, cane in hand. She already saw him peering in the entry window. After all that racket, he probably thought she’d been attacked.
"Back, Beast!" she ordered.
The Beast ignored her.
She bent down and picked up her little dog, which forced her to remove the hand that staunched the bleeding. Taking a calming breath, Lucy opened the door and forced a smile. "Hi, Mr. Waverly."
He looked at her through rheumy blue eyes. "What the hell’s going on up there?"
Although no housing association existed in this neighborhood, Johnny Waverly had elected himself chairman. He took it upon himself to eyeball every tenant’s postage-stamp front lawn and the condition of their vehicles, and kept himself apprised of all of the goings-on on the street. Lucy knew he meant well, but there were times when she wanted to take that cane and beat him over the head with it.
Gently, of course.
"I moved some furniture and fell down," she lied.
The Beast barked after she spoke, as if revealing her dishonesty. She shushed him. Damn dog never took her side.
Something told her Mr. Waverly hadn’t joined the rest of the technological world. Besides, in the wake of recent events, Lucy had begun to think she might very well be insane, which would be even harder to explain, and only confirm what he already suspected.
He watched the blood trickle down her leg. "Looks like you cut yourself."
Duh.
"Just a scratch. Thanks for your concern!"
She started to shut the door, but he stuck his cane in.
"It’s bleeding," he pointed out.
Thank you, Captain Obvious, she thought, but guilt settled in immediately. He’s just trying to be helpful, Lucy reminded herself. He’s a lonely, old man. He can’t help it if that makes him mildly paranoid.
"I’ve got some band-aids in the first aid kit upstairs," she told him, which was true. Maybe.
Lucy would tell him anything he wanted to hear, just to get him out of her house. She didn’t want Rory pulling in her driveway to find Mr. Waverly on her stoop. Everyone in Lucy’s life thought she showed no common sense. And yeah, trying to throw a computer out of her second-window showed a complete lack of said sense, but she was under duress. And, yeah, she’d called in the Calvary in the form of a six-foot-one sexy god, but this was Rory. He was the only person who treated her like an adult.
"You damage anything else?" Mr. Waverly asked, his concern replaced by dogged suspicion.
Lucy still wasn’t convinced her penny-pinching slumlord hadn’t planted Mr. Waverly onsite just to weed out information. Of course, she might be paranoid.
Must be the blood loss.
"Everything’s just fine, Mr. Waverly."
He made no attempt to remove the cane jammed in her door. Blue eyes she imagined were once clear and sharp, took in her face, searching, she was sure, for signs of deception.
"Lucy!"
Lucy rolled her eyes as her friend and neighbor, Emily Jenkins, came strolling around the front walk, eyes big and blue, her long blonde hair swinging, looking all of nineteen. Especially in the blue and white checkered jumper; an outfit she hadn’t been wearing when they’d gone for their standing monthly spa appointment earlier.
"Nice outfit," Lucy said.
"My sister is playing the lead in The Wizard of Oz in her town’s community theatre. I promised I’d make her costume."
"And that explains why you’re parading around in it how?"
"We’re the same size." Emily raised her eyebrows at Mr. Waverly’s back. "What’s with all the raucous?"
Mr. Waverly turned and smiled at Emily, the only person on earth, Lucy was positive, the old man liked. "Your friend’s having some trouble." He puffed up like a bird. "I just came by to see if she was alright."
My ass.
"I’m fine. Just a little tumble is all. No need to invite the whole damn neighborhood," she muttered.
This was turning from bad to worse. Any minute, Adam and Kate Johnson, who lived in same townhouse as Emily, would come traipsing over with their three kids and Golden Retriever to join the show.
From the street beyond the concrete walkway that curved around the side of her house, she heard the telltale sound of Rory’s 1965 vintage Corvette. The engine roared with three-hundred-and-twenty-seven cubic inches of pure, unadulterated power. The door slammed, and seconds later Rory rounded the corner, adding to the party. Lucy reminded herself to yank her tongue back into her mouth.
He jammed his keys into the pocket of snug, well-worn blue jeans that molded to him like a soft glove, and Lucy wished she had been reincarnated as a pair of Levis. He raked a hand through short, spiky black hair, a scowl pulled low over his deep-set, cobalt eyes.
Eyes that narrowed with every step that took him closer to her door.
He nodded at Emily. "Hey, Em. Where’s your little dog, Toto?" His thick accent tickled over Lucy’s skin. Just the sight of him made little tingles flush over her body. You are so pathetic.
Emily used her middle finger to scratch her nose.
"This little spitfire givin’ you trouble, sir?" Rory asked.
Mr. Waverly twisted as fast as his old bones allowed, and turned those shifty eyes on Rory. "Seems like she’s having a bit of trouble herself, moving couches and tables around with just those tiny arms for support."
"Hey," Lucy protested. "I may be small, but I’m wiry."
Both men shot each other a glance that ended with a snort of laughter.
"Face it Luce," Rory said with a grin, "even if you went head to head with a class full of preschoolers, the odds are dicey."
"If you guys are done with your merciless, and may I add, completely unprovoked attack, I’ll be leaving now." Lucy tried to shut the door again, groaning in frustration when she realized the wily old bastard still hadn’t removed his cane.
Rory moved around Mr. Waverly and, in typical Rory fashion, bullied his way inside her house.
He looked down at her. "What happened to your leg?"
"Don’t ask."
"Show me the scene of the crime."
Lucy rolled her eyes, but led him up the stairs and around the back to her home office and the half-bath inside. Rory stopped behind her. She smelled his aftershave and something exotic and distinctly feminine, which made her think of the sexy voice and boobs. Her heart melted a little bit at the idea he’d left his date to help her out.
Loud clumping followed along with the click-click-click of The Beast’s toenails tapping along the hardwood floor. When Lucy looked up, Rory, Emily and the uninvited, always nosy Mr. Waverly had their eyes trained on the mess that lay below.
"What in name of Ike Turner is that?" Mr. Waverly asked.
The "scene of the crime" lay just as she’d left it, though she’d hoped the evidence of her temporary leap from sanity had been a bad dream.
Not so much. In fact, it looked even worse. Maybe I don’t have any common sense. Maybe what everybody thinks is true. Lucy ordered her inner critic to shut the hell up, trying to focus on the present.
"That, my fine man," Rory said, "is an example of what takes place when bad things happen to good computers."
"Them one of those iPod thingies I been hearin’ so much about on the idiot box?"
"Close," Rory replied, though how he maintained a straight face, Lucy had no idea.
Emily rolled her eyes.
He crouched down on long, lean legs that pulled against the worn cotton of his jeans and examined the ruined remains. "It looks like you took a sledgehammer to it." He ran his fingers over the twisted, tortured metal.
Touch me like that.
"Oh, Lucy, what did you do now?" Emily asked.
Lucy bit her lip and tried to stem the tide of self-doubt that threatened to overwhelm her. She knew her friend meant well, but it only reinforced Lucy’s view of herself. She was torn between the urge to burst into tears or start punching something.
Emily leaned closer and whispered, "You know, they say violence against inanimate objects is a sign of deeper issues."
The tears that had threatened drifted away like clouds in a storm. "Zip it, Dorothy, or I’ll sic my flying monkeys on your corn-fed ass."
Rory turned and looked up at her. "Where’s your laptop?"
Lucy looked away and stared intently at a spot high on the windowsill.
"Lucy," he said, warning in his tone.
"I wasn’t using it! It’s so hard to work on that thing with the little…pad-mouse-thingamajig. I can’t create any decent design without it looking like a toddler on crack made it."
"What did you do with it?"
She waited a beat, and then admitted, "I sold it on eBay. I got a really good deal on it, and I used the money to buy that Coach bag I’ve had my eye on plus the matching wallet. Oh, and the scarf and hat, too," she added.
Rory shook his head. "Well, as long as you got the scarf and hat." He pierced her with his deep blue eyes. "You do know your mouse problem is easily remedied, right?"
She sent him a look that said she thought he was nuts. "Would we be having this conversation if I did?"
"How is it that someone who hates computers chose a career where she works on one daily?"
Lucy chewed on her thumb. "Still trying to figure that one out myself, Sporto." She nodded her head at the mangled machine. "So, can you work your magic?"
Rory let out a short bark of laughter. "Not even I’m that good." With gentle ease, he lifted one end of the silver tower, wincing when a chunk of metal dropped to the floor with a clatter. "I’ll see what I can do."
From behind them, Mr. Waverly asked, "Is that a rip in the linoleum?"
Lucy groaned.

Fear of Failure

I went on a rampage last year and wrote four novels. Now that they've been contracted, I'm finally working on a new novel. But, the process is painful, tortorously so. I'm so worried that now that I've published, everything else I create will never measure up. Even so, I force myself to write at least one page a day, but it's like trying to squeeze blood from a turnip, to use a shopworn line.

Any of you other pubbed authors feel that way?

Another Great Review!!!

The Wedding WarJenny GilliamContemporary romanceAvailable from The Wild Rose PressISBN: 1-60154-224-0March 2008


Mia Briscoe, the 31-year-old owner of Weddings by Mia knew this trip was in jeopardy when she boarded the plane for her first ever first-class flight. Her best friend, Jillian Tyner was getting married in two weeks and her parents could afford to procure the upgraded tickets. But when she contemplated her seat, there was a horridly rude man sprawled across her seat. He refused to move. And since he was so gorgeous, she got little help out of the flight attendant. She finally gave up. The air travel did not hold much promise but the eye candy was not a hardship.
When she flew into South Carolina, she was excited to see Jillian Tyner and Gabe, her fiancé. What shattered her well-being was seeing her seat mate also walking up to them and finding out he was Gabe’s brother, Jake Ryan. His sole purpose in being here was to stop the wedding. Jake felt there was no such thing as happily ever after and he refused to give his brother up to the leg-shackles of matrimony without a fight.

Ms. Jenny Gilliam is a new author to me. She has grabbed my attention. She worked her main characters into multi-faceted individuals who blended extremely well with each other. There were a myriad of problems with the two couples who were the main focus as well as the supporting cast members. She managed to keep the story flowing without losing site of any of the impressive plot. The storyline was intense and I had a hard time putting it down.
The sexual tension was palpable but certainly not offensive. The sensual scenes were beautifully written and felt as if I was, personally, involved. Believe me, that does not usually happen. I loved the way she both extended the loving feelings but also pulled away from reality when things got passionate.

Overall rating: Sensuality rating: Very sensual
Reviewer: Brenda TalleyMarch 19, 2008