Friday, July 3, 2009

A Butt-Kicking Friend is Good to Find

Friend: noun
1. Someone who knows when to offer her shoulder
2. Someone who knows when to kick your ass (q.v. true friend)

-----

I’ll get right down to the nitty gritty. I lost my father about a month ago. Actually I’d been in the process of losing him for at least the last ten years; May 23 was simply the final chapter in a death-cheating odyssey that confounded the best specialists in central North Carolina. I mean, Dad would show up for an appointment and his doctors would say half-seriously, “Dude, are you still alive?”

I had this idea that when his end finally came, I’d be ready for it. Shake it off, secure in the knowledge that Dad’s was a life well lived, and move on to do likewise.

When I’d share this with my best friend J.C. Wilder, she’d nod and smile. She’d been down this road. She knew better.

Last December, my most recent title hit the virtual bookshelves right about the same time I visited my parents for the holidays. One look at Dad, and my Mom and I exchanged glances that said we knew it wouldn’t be much longer for him. He always went to great pains to sound hale and hearty on the phone, when in reality he couldn’t walk more than a few steps.

I took a deep breath and told myself I was okay. I wasn’t. I went back to Ohio ready to dive into book three of my Legends series — and found myself staring hopelessly at the screen, my mind as empty as the rest of my life looked without my Dad in it.

J.C. and my editor, Lindsey, were patient. They were kind and supportive through the final ordeal that ended May 23 as Dad passed peacefully into the next life. They bided their time over the next two weeks, waiting for me to turn back to the writing that has been a huge healing force in my life.

By early June, they lost patience. They knew better than I did that if I wallowed in my funk much longer, there might be no getting out again. There was only one way to get me back on task. Spring a carefully planned trap.

I knew something was up when I observed the two of them huddled over martinis in a dark corner of the bar at the Lori Foster conference. And how they’d stop talking whenever I came within hearing range. They even waited to strike until I was driving home.

My cell phone rang.

“Okay, here’s the plan,” said J.C. without preamble. (She always assumes I know it’s her.) “Starting tomorrow, you are going to start writing a novella. We don’t care what it’s about. You will write for two hours a day for six days a week. At the end of that two hours, you will email me the file, and I will forward it to Lindsey. Neither one of us will read it, you just have to send it.”

“Um, okay.” I knew there had to be more. She didn’t disappoint.

“Here’s the catch. You will immediately delete the file from your hard drive. The next day, pick up where you left off and keep going.”

My heart nearly stopped. My crippling Internal Editor was already screaming bloody murder. Write without the possibility of going back to fix mistakes? Yikes!

“You may not have the files back for editing until you hit 10k words,” she continued as if she had a perfect right to boss me around.

“I think I’m going to throw up,” I croaked.

“Trust me, this is going to work,” she said with a confidence I didn’t feel. At. All.

I hemmed and hawed for a few days. Then I opened a new document and started typing with only the vaguest idea of what the story was. Two hours later, I emailed the file to J.C., swallowed hard, and hit DELETE.

Then I went to bed, curled up in a fetal position and bawled like a baby.

Next day: Lather, rinse, repeat.

By day three, I found myself tentatively looking forward to my two hours of seat-of-the-pants writing time, even knowing that by the end I’d be a basket case. By day seven, I was writing on my laptop in the car, hauling it with me everywhere to cram in a few minutes here and there. And I have a first draft half-way finished. This has to be some kind of record for me, folks.

My talisman is a picture on my computer's destop of my Dad. He’s sitting in a boat, grinning and holding up a miniscule fish that’s not much bigger than the bait he caught it with. Even he understood that if you catch enough little fish, eventually you have a “mess”, which in Tarheel-speak means enough for a meal.

In other words, even baby steps eventually get you to your goal. So, step by painful baby step, I’m emerging from the numbness.

And it’s all due to the friends who have my back. Everyone should be so lucky.

Carolan Ivey
Romance that will haunt you…

Web site ~ Blog ~ Twitter ~ Facebook ~ Myspace

Thursday, July 2, 2009

Ever wonder what it would be like to become someone new?










Have you ever wondered what it would be like to simply start over? Become someone new. No doubt, everyone at one time or another has speculated. But what if your life depended on it? Would you be willing to leave everything behind in order to survive?




Well, that's the subject of my upcoming, July 14th release from Linden Bay Romance , entitled Worth Staying For.




For Doctor Jordan Scott, the most dangerous place to be in love.




Dr. Jordan Scott thought she knew her fiancé, Caesar, better than anyone…until Detective Riley Donovan confronts her with the truth about her brother’s death. His murder was no random act of violence—and Caesar is the prime suspect, which puts her directly in the path of danger. Their relationship may be strained, but Jordan can’t believe Caesar lied when he claimed he’d severed all ties with his drug cartel family.Riley has seen enough to know that Jordan is telling the truth, despite what his partner believes. Then again, his instincts aren’t exactly on point when it comes to Jordan. He’s already broken two hard-and-fast rules when it comes to witness protection: never get emotionally involved and never fall for your star witness.Now the trick will be to keep her alive long enough to convince her to trust him—and find the truth behind her brother’s murder. Before she becomes the next victim.Warning: Contains a hero to die for, one courageous leading lady, lots of heart-pounding action, and a rollercoaster ride of emotion.








Check out all of my latest releases at:






All the best...




Mary Eason




Tuesday, June 30, 2009

Tanya Hanson: The Bride Marries the Wrong Man...or does she?



It’s not just sun-squinted eyes peering from beneath the brim of a black Stetson or a perfect backside swaying inside denims that moves me. I love the whole cowboy thang --the strong silent type who’s more at home underneath a wide open sky than in some fancy Victorian parlor. And I love creating the counterpart for him, a strong resilient woman of the Old West who’s self-reliant and inventive as well as vulnerable and virginal.

So with that stewing in my head, my current Western historical release at The Wild Rose Press, Marrying Minda, came about.

I have always loved mail-order bride stories. The idea of a couple who agrees to be together but has never met, and then has to work it out in real life speaks out to me. I guess because nowadays, couples don’t even consider marriage until they’ve dated, usually for years, and many times have lived together. Then it takes a year to plan the wedding!

Or at least eight months. Our daughter got engaged last Thanksgiving…and The Big Day is almost here. For Marrying Minda to be released at this time is particularly meaningful.

I love the journey of a couple falling in love. So in Marrying Minda, I threw in the snafu of the bride marrying a man other than the one she signed up for --a man who definitely doesn’t want to be married. Brixton Haynes can’t wait to get back to the Texas cattle trails, but of course Minda isn’t going to let him off to easily. I’m honored, humbled, and –let’s admit it—shocked that Marrying Minda has spent four weeks on the best seller list at The Wild Rose Press.

You’ll find something for everybody in this book...love, adventure, outlaws, not to mention a trio of adorable orphans. I’ve even got pictures of my husband and personal hero reading my book at the hotel pool during our recent vacation! Yep, those pix are bound to make to a blogspot sometime soon. And since Marrying Minda garnered first-place honors in the “Ignite the Flame” Contest sponsored by the Central Ohio Fiction Writers, and first place with perfect scores at the Merritt “Magic Moment” Contest of the San Antonio Romance Authors, well, I hope you like it too.

For a chance to win an autographed copy, mosey over to my website and sign my guestbook today. I’ll be pulling a name from Stetson tomorrow. And please make yourself to home at the all-Western site, Petticoats and Pistols. See you there!

Blurb:

Mail-order bride Minda Becker arrives in Paradise, Nebraska and eagerly marries the handsome man who meets her stagecoach. His wedding kiss melts her toes. Too bad he's the wrong bridegroom. Cowboy Brixton Haynes can't deny he'd like a wedding night with the eastern beauty, but the last thing he needs is to be saddled with a wife and the three children his brother left behind. First chance he gets, he'll be back point riding along the Goodnight. But leaving Minda proves to be much harder than he expected.

Excerpt:

Night fell soft and silent, and the snuffles of Norman Dale’s livestock comforted Brixton with memories of the trail. Lord, he couldn’t wait to get back.
Habit had him walk quiet as he could from the barn to the house. Even the tiniest noise sparked stampedes on the trail, so his footsteps were cautious wherever he went.

At the back porch, he set down Minda’s valises and paused to peek in the back window. Her lush curves swayed beneath the simple dress as she readied the children for bed, and he couldn’t fill his vision fast enough. The memory of her soft sweet cheek brushed his fingertips once more, and his heart raced and his groin throbbed. It was the heartbeat he didn’t like; a man desiring a beautiful woman was just what a man did. But a galloping heart might mean a man felt something deep inside.

Even worse, night after night alone on the trail, he’d keep seeing her shining hair sweep across little Ned’s shoulders while she kissed the top of the lad’s head. So he pulled out his flask and drank deeper. It was too much like having a family of his own, something he swore he never needed. Suddenly he missed his brother more than he’d missed anything.

Until this minute, he had never felt shy about coming through this door without a knock. His wife’s current disposition gave him pause, but he had goods to deliver and damn, the kids just might like one of his good-night songs. His tongue clicked. Truth to tell, his bride would think him nothing but a rowdy bridegroom wanting a tumble between the sheets. Already she’d tried to disgrace him by letting a room at the boardinghouse just for herself.

Another long hard swig consoled his throat as it emptied his flask. Damn woman.

Monday, June 29, 2009

I'm in Love (Shh, don't tell my husband)

by Jeannie Ruesch

Yes, I'm in love --that flowers and hearts, want to spend every waking moment together kind of love. However, before you shake your head at me and say "Shame on her", I'll confess. I'm in love with an object.

My newly acquired (as of May) Kindle, to be specific. It's pretty. It's shiny. And oh my heaven, it can hold THOUSANDS of books. I can get them any time I want. All I have to do is click a few buttons, go to the Amazon store and buy a book. (And yes, it really is simple.)

And in fact, I can sample a book before I buy it, so I'm doing the e-version of browsing the bookstore. I have downloaded samples of about five books, from authors I hadn't read before, to try out their work. You get the first chapter or a portion thereof, and if you like it, you buy it. Voila, it's delivered to your Kindle.

When the ereaders and Kindles first hit the scene, I was one of the book lovers who declared I would "never" read books on an ereader. I would miss the feeling of the pages, the smell of a new book, etc. There a million reasons why I would not change how I'd read books my entire life. Now, I understand why one never says never. I'm a convert. In fact, I'm not only a convert, I'm in LOVE with my newly acquired (as of May) Kindle.

And I'm about two weeks out from experiencing one of the greatest things about the Kindle. Traveling. I'll be heading to Washington DC for a week for the RWA National Conference, and rather than lug the books I might have time to read (and probably won't, but heaven forbid I go anywhere without a book or twelve), I can just take my lightweight Kindle and bring thousands. I'm excited. Kindle and I are going on an adventure.

Another added benefit to Kindle is that I can load my own documents on it. I've loaded critique partner's chapters to read through, I've loaded my own manuscripts to read through, chapters, whatever.

But back to being a reader. How do you read? Are you wedded to the printed pages or have you tried or considered trying an eReader? They are still pretty costly, so it could be a gamble on something you aren't sure you'll love. (We'll, I'm sure you'll love it, but you might not be.)

I love books, and I was surprised to learn that my reading experience -- how deeply I got into the book, how much I felt and enjoyed it--did not change reading it on an ereader. It was a very pleasant realization.

So, share what it is you love about books..in physical form, and tell me whether you think you'd ever be a convert. And to one commenter, I'll offer up a Kindle or ereader version of my historical romance, SOMETHING ABOUT HER.

SOMETHING ABOUT HER
“…a rich, well-presented story.”~RT Book Reviews
~ “A wonderful debut!” ~NYTimes bestselling author Gaelen Foley

Saturday, June 27, 2009

THE SENATOR'S DAUGHTER

A body guard turned kidnapper has his hands full trying to handle a high spirited society gal determined to escape.

offered in print and ebook at: Whiskey Creek Press

Blurb -

How in the world did he expect her to sleep with him lying next to her all night? She already felt the heat from their close proximity, reaching up to undo some of the top buttons of her shirt. She fluffed the material against her hot skin, thanking God for the cool air of the fan overhead.

In the end it wasn’t enough. As Brent settled into an exhausted sleep, Sophie lay there burning up, listening to his soft snores and undoing yet another button, and another. She tried to inch away from his hot flesh but their handcuffed wrists prevented her from getting very far. She couldn’t even roll onto her side, which was how she usually liked to sleep. She stilled for a second before fluffing her shirt again. What had she ever done to deserve this kind of torture? God, it was like a furnace…

“Will you be still!” Brent grumbled.

“I’m hot!” She whispered, defending herself.

“Well if you’d stopped wiggling you’d cool down. I’m hot too.”

This was impossible, Sophie thought, squirming to get into a more comfortable position. She was frightened but more than that, she was aware of his closeness. He had no right, forcing her to sleep with him! He released a snort as she continued to twist and turn.

Her fingertips inadvertently brushed against his muscular thigh. She tried to pretend it didn’t happen but that was like trying to pretend she wasn’t a woman. Besides, now her fingertips were singed and worse, tingling.

“Damn it!” Brent barked losing control.

“I’m use to sleeping on my side,” she said in her defense.

With a deep sigh that sounded more like a grumble of aggravation Brent rolled to his side, turning her with him so that when they were finally settled she was in the scooped out hollow provided by his body, with his arm around her. She gasped at his audacity, trying to scoot away but he yanked her back just as easily. “Now go to sleep!” he snarled against her ear.

Sophie grew stiff as a board, holding her breath, speechless with shock. The intimacy of their position terrified her. Their bare legs were touching from thigh to ankle. In addition, she could definitely feel the soft bulge of Brent’s member flush against her buttocks.

Oh dear Lord this was worse than anything she could have imagined! Everything at that moment became intensified. The warmth of his breath against her ear, stirring her hair. The rhythm of his heart as it beat against her back. His large hand resting against her belly, she could feel every one of his fingers.

Not until his soft, steady breathing indicated he’d fallen back to sleep was she able to finally relax. She could forget about cooling down now, she was hotter than ever, but at least she was on her side. Finally, after an agonizing hour of waiting for the unknown, her eyes began to drift shut and she sank into a welcome slumber.


Tory Richards Newsletter

Hey y'all, don't forget to join my new monthly newsletter! First one comes out in July and the yahoo join link is located on my blog.

Tootles!

Twilight's Embrace - now available at Cobblestone Press

Can she trust him with her undead heart?

Maxine Twilight runs the hottest fetish club in the Midwest, a place where the rich and famous come to play with vampires. When her employees begin turning to ash, Maxine calls in a ‘consultant’, slayer Zachary Fox.

Zachary Fox slays rogue vampires not other slayers. But when his dead ex-wife, Tessa, calls in a favor to stop a slayer, he agrees to help. However, he didn’t count on losing his heart to Maxine. So when it appears as if she is the intended target of the next wooden stake, he’s forced to put his life, and love, on the line.

Excerpt:

Maxine heard a stifled scream and turned toward the sound. At the front desk, a couple stood staring at the spot where Victoria had been just moments ago. Then the man looked up, took a deep breath, and screamed like a girl.

What a nightmare.

In her mind, Maxine had prepared for this eventuality. She’d envisioned herself closing and locking the doors, calmly instructing the staff to conduct a swift and quiet search for the slayer, then she, personally, would dispose of the slayer, and the party would continue, so to speak.

Well, things didn’t exactly go as planned.

First off, Mitch’s caterwauling at the sight of the pile of ashes attracted everyone’s attention. Then, more people began screaming as they realized what had occurred. Vampires fled into the dark recesses of Temperance, and living patrons fled for the street. Thank the gods no one had been trampled in the pandemonium. Unfortunately, it looked like the slayer, whoever he or she was, had escaped.
Sorrow welled up inside her when she thought about Victoria, but she bit her bottom lip and carried on.

“I’ve called the police.” Jimmy, her brother, walked up behind her.

“And?” Maxine asked, although she knew full well what the answer would be.

“They pretty much said ‘good riddance’,” Jimmy replied.

“You’re surprised?”

“No, I guess not.” Jimmy shrugged and picked up a rag. “I had just hoped that since
Temperance was a Chicago landmark that someone would be concerned.”

“The undead have no rights, Jimmy. But believe me, if one of the living patrons had been murdered here tonight, the place would be crawling with cops.”

“Maxine?” A tall, thin brunette woman interrupted.

Maxine looked up. It was Tessa, one of her newly hired employees. “Everything is under control, Tessa. No need to be worried.”

Tessa shot her an impatient look. “Could I speak to you…alone?”

“Sure.” Maxine gave her brother an apologetic look, but he just smiled and sauntered away in the direction of his apartment in the back. She turned her attention to Tessa and silently prayed the pretty vampire wasn’t going to turn in her resignation.

“I’m so sorry, we’ve never had a slayer invade Temperance, and I can assure you—”

Tessa held up a hand to interrupt her. “I’m the one who needs to tell you I’m sorry. I made a call tonight after Vickie’s death.”

Maxine stayed silent, waiting for the other wooden stake to fall.

“I called my, well, ex-husband.”

Maxine was running out of patience while Tessa babbled on. Would the woman just come to the point?

“Zachary Fox. I phoned him this evening and called in a favor he owes me. He’ll be arriving sometime tomorrow.”

“Zachary Fox, the slayer?” Maxine shuddered. Was Tessa insane? Did she not think they had enough trouble with a rogue slayer in the club tonight? What was the woman thinking, inviting a professional killer into their midst? If the others found out, the club would be empty of vampires by nightfall, and Temperance would be closed for the first time in over 100 years.

“It’s not what you think. I know slayers, good ones and bad ones., Hell, you probably didn’t know it, but I was one once. There was something off about the hit tonight. I have a really bad feeling. I think someone was sending you a message.”

“Tessa, I get hate mail and threats on a daily basis. If it isn’t the public shouting for me to close down, it’s the mob trying to hone in on the business. I don’t think Victoria’s destruction was anything more than a rogue slayer trying to make a name for himself.”

“Maybe,” Tessa said, but her voice sounded anything but convinced. “But I think we need a professional to investigate. Especially since the police have pretty much washed their hands of all of us. Damn them anyway.”

Maxine looked around her at the gleaming oak tables, colorful Tiffany lamps, and the huge bar her great-grandfather had carved by hand. Temperance was her life. If it were to fail, stand empty, it would be a reinforcement of the existence that had been forced on her. No, she had to make this a success.

Her mother had inherited it after her grandfather’s death ten years ago. It should have come to Maxine. However, she’d lost it all when she died. Thank goodness, Jimmy had no interest in running the bar. After a brief period of ‘remodeling’, she had reopened it as a fetish club and struck it rich. She couldn’t bear to lose it. If the living patrons didn’t come, the vampires would have no other way to support their blood habit but by…

No, she wasn’t going to let that happen.

“We’ll just have to be more careful tomorrow night when we reopen.”

“Careful? How? A metal detector isn’t going to do jack shit against a wooden stake,” Tessa argued. “Or are you going to have everyone frisked at the front door?” She looked around. “Whoever killed Vickie was no amateur slayer, and if we don’t stop them, he or she will kill again.”

“And a professional slayer will do what? Help him kill us all?” Maxine shook her head. “No, we’ll handle the situation ourselves.”

Before Tessa could argue further, Maxine strode off. Her entire body felt numb with dread. Was Tessa right? Could someone be targeting her and her club?

It had to be the mob. When she’d first opened, they’d sent a few muscle-bound ‘gentlemen’ around to talk to her. Threatened her that if she didn’t pay protection money, ‘bad’ things were bound to happen.

She had sent the goons back to their boss with a few broken bones for their trouble. The mob had left her alone to some extent. She still got the occasional visit and letter from Mr. Poulos himself. But nothing like this.

After checking to make sure all her employees were reassured, she headed downstairs. She picked up one last crumpled napkin off the floor and then paused in the foyer. For the first time in six years, she locked the doors to Temperance before dawn. The clatter of the deadbolt left her with the uneasy feeling that she would never open the doors again.

No, she’d been killed, had fought the city for a liquor license, and had been threatened by the toughest man in Chicago. One measly murder was not going to force her to turn tail and run.

Striding down the hall on her way to her office, she passed a small cluster of employees. They looked up at her, and she stopped to talk, hoping to allay their fears. Even as she reassured them, she could see their doubts clearly in their eyes and expressions. If she didn’t do something and do it fast, they would leave. When they did, they would be easy game for anyone with a wooden stake and a Buffy-the-vampire-slayer complex. Here at Temperance, they were safe, they could earn a living, and with luck and Congressional lobbying, perhaps they could finally earn status as citizens again.

“So, what are we going to do, Miss Maxine?” a petite blonde vampire asked, her lips trembling.

“Did you call the police?” Vincent Price, their headliner who’s name really was Vincent, put his hand on her shoulder.

Maxine could almost smell his fear, and she hoped her outwardly calm demeanor would give him some comfort. It was hard enough to have died once and been forced to give up friends and family, many of whom recoiled from vampires in terror and loathing. To die again, soulless, was a terrifying possibility. One that she had every intention of preventing.

Maxine chewed on her lip. She could lie, but they deserved to know the truth. “Yes, the police were called, but they refused to help us.”

“So what are we going to do? I don’t have anywhere else to go. Temperance is my home.” Vincent’s friend and sometimes lover, Marcus, known to his fans as Van Helsing, had tears in his eyes.

“We’re not going to panic, for one. And I’m not going to close the club. But we are going to take some precautions.” Maxine looked around at their worried faces and grasped at the only straw she had. “I’ve called in an, um, consultant. He’ll be here tomorrow to investigate.”

The relief in her employees’ faces was clear. Marcus even smiled.

Damn it all, a consultant? The man was nothing but a cold-blooded killer, a slayer. Instead of relief, Maxine felt a surge of fear. Hopefully she hadn’t invited the wolf right into the fold.

Hope you enjoyed a small taste of Twilight's Embrace. You can purchase your own copy at www.cobblestone-press.com

Have a great weekend!

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

Ericka Scott is a multi-published, bestselling author of seductive suspense. She's written stories for as long as she can remember and reads anything under the sun (including the back of cereal boxes in a pinch). She got hooked on romantic suspense in her college days, when reading anything but a textbook was a guilty pleasure. Now, when she’s not chauffeuring children around, wishing she had a maid, or lurking at the library, she’s spinning her own web of fantasy and penning tales of seduction and suspense. She currently lives in Southern California with her husband and three children. You can find out more about her at www.erickascott.com.

Friday, June 26, 2009

5 Hearts for Snake Charmer!



What a wonderful surprise to see Snake Charmer receive 5 hearts from TRS!!

"Snake Charmer hooked me from the very first page and I wasn't able to leave my screen until I finished. The passion and intensity between the characters is very real and believable." ~Reviewer Holli Winters

This sure gave a needed boost to my week!

Blurb

At an open-air market, a lavish red scarf adorned with a beautiful garnet catches Berlin's attention, to the point of obsession.

She hears a deep male's voice, rich and seductive, taunting her to buy the luxurious item. Using the last of her money she purchases the scarf, and takes it home, unaware it is merely an illusion.

Faotin finally escapes a darkness that has plagued him for years. He knows his only chance at freedom is to break the curse of the garnet and sever the ties created by Eclipse, a vicious Naga queen who used him for her own pleasure. Faotin's plan is to seduce and kill a naïve woman, but everything changes as Berlin's warmth and alluring beauty thaw his cold, vengeful heart.

As Berlin and Faotin give into their heated passion, they both realize there is more to their feelings than either dares admit. While Berlin charms the handsome shape-shifting snake of a man, the wicked Naga queen, Eclipse, prepares for one final deadly strike.

For an excerpt, please click Here

Available now from Ellora's Cave

~Ann Cory
Author of contemporary and paranormal - Seduction Style

Thursday, June 25, 2009

Moving and Groovin', but alas, not Writing


I love to write, really I do. It's cheaper than therapy! And besides, it's so much fun to tell a story and fall in love with your characters. But sometimes, in order to tell a better story, you've got to take a step back and take a break and take care of yourself. I'm currently on a short writing hiatus from my daily word count goals, in order to get my health in order.

I live with a lot of challenges, though a lot less than some people. I have diabetes, thyroiditis and a whole host of other weird and strange illnesses and responsibilities that make me not the most ideal 9-5 type worker. But, I'm trying to fight back lately and control my diabetes better.

And that takes eating right, and exercise. I am not fond of exercise. Not just the effort of it, but the time it takes up. I could be reading, or writing, or playing with my five year old, or working on some of my many part-time jobs. But, I have to do it, and if I must, it might as well be fun.

So I've been traveling, assembling what I call my "global workout". I've got tapes of yoga from India, bellydancing from the Middle East, hula from Hawaii, and Latin dancing from Brazil. Not only is it a lot more fun than my stationary bike, but my mind gets to wander to interesting places while I'm sweating away.

I've already got key plot points squared away for a Hawaii story, which continues to grow each time I shake my hips. I've got a Brazil story percolating, and I'm sure the bellydancing will bear story-fruit soon. Probably before my abs stop aching from all those belly rolls and hip drops.

Now, if I could just forget the food cravings that go along with these places, the pounds would just drop away! Still, I'll be writing again soon with all this inspiration…and there's always that fantasy about my own personal trainer to explore!

Elaine Lowe




Elaine Lowe is a work-at-home mom to a brilliant, beautiful 5 year old overcoming autism. She loves writing erotic romance, especially historicals and science fiction. Her books include Command the Wind, Scandalous Profession, Enchant the Dawn, Seeds of Garnet, Tears of Talent, Lady Six Sky and many more. Check out her website at www.elainelowenovels.com!