Here's the thing. Never, ever give up. When people kept telling me that at the start of my writing efforts I thought, Yeah, a fat lot they know. Are they papering their walls with rejection letters? Are they in a funk because no one but them seems to like their work?
My very first manuscript took so many beatings it looked like a wash-up prizefighter. But after every rejection letter, every losing contest entry, every critique croup session, I took all the criticisms and suggestions and rewrote...andrewrote...and rewrote.
Meanwhile I worked hard to improve my craft and finally made that first sale. And then another. And then another. And each time I studied my editor's comments and went back to that first story and reworked it again. I think the number of rewrites finally hit fifty. But at last I had a book worthy of submission. And wow! The difference between Version One and Version fifty.
My Christmas present? TARGET, Book One: The Protectors, finally sold and is out for the holidays. Holding that book ins my hands made everything worthwhile. I'd like to share a taste of it with you.
Blurb:
She didn’t know why her late father’s partner wanted to kill her or who the man was he was planning with. Only luck put her in place to overhear the conversation. But the threat was enough to send Kathryn Holt on a frantic flight, taking with her a flash drive that held the secrets of his business. With a big target painted on her back, mediocre, easily led Kathryn Holt became feisty and inventive Kate Griffin. But even Kate reached her limit the night her junker car broke down in the middle of Texas until Quinn, mysterious dark knight with secrets of his own appeared out of the night. Soon scorching sex was
neutralizing the intense fear she’d been living with and Quinn was ready to slay her dragons. But two shootings and two brushes with death nearly cost Kate her life and almost destroyed Quinn, bringing back memories he thought he’d buried. With the bad guys finally out of commission, will Kate and Quinn be able to salvage the passion that still smolders between them?
Excerpt:
Cars whizzed by her on the highway in both directions. Kate didn’t know whether to be glad or mad no one stopped. She didn’t think she’d left any leads for Peter to pick up but after Los Angeles she wasn’t counting on anything. She swallowed the panic that kept clogging her throat. Here she was, out here in the open, vulnerable to anyone…
A blinding flash of headlights and the crunching of tires on gravel startled her, freezing her in place. Her stomach clenched and the familiar taste of fear crawled up her throat as a door slammed and a tall figure outlined in the lights moved toward her. God, could they have found her this easily? No, stop and take a breath, dummy. They’ve had all the miles since L.A. to catch her. Why wait for now?
Then who had stopped? Someone just as bad?
Kate looked frantically around her for a place to hide.
Too late. Here he came, whoever he was, a dark shadow moving toward her with panther-like grace.
“You look as if you could use some help.” The disembodied voice was deep, rusty, as if it wasn’t used much, and she detected a hint of a drawl.
Then he was in front of her, materializing like smoke out of the blackness of the night. Kate took a deep breath. Her heart banged against her ribs like a jackhammer, not just from fear. The unexpected visceral punch of his powerful male presence caught her totally off guard. It was the fatigue. It had to be.
“Sorry I scared you.” His voice was deep and gravelly. “I spotted you over here on the side of the highway and figured you had car trouble.”
“Y-Yes.” She cleared her throat. “Yes, I do.” As he came closer and the truck’s headlights shone on him, she got a better look.
He was tall and lean, a black tee shirt and worn black jeans molding his body, outlining every muscle. the jeans brushing the tops of scuffed western boots. Thick dark hair, just a little bit long and so inky it barely reflected the headlights, accentuated a lean face full of sharp planes and angles.
Dark stubble shadowed his jaw, and deep lines bracketed his mouth and the corners of his eyes. Not the face of someone who smiled often. His black eyes, looking out from beneath
thick, dark lashes, were like coal that had been chipped from the earth.
If her life had been normal—normal?—she’d have reacted to him like a cat to cream. But right now her only concern was staying alive, and she had no idea which side of that coin this man was on.
My very first manuscript took so many beatings it looked like a wash-up prizefighter. But after every rejection letter, every losing contest entry, every critique croup session, I took all the criticisms and suggestions and rewrote...andrewrote...and rewrote.
Meanwhile I worked hard to improve my craft and finally made that first sale. And then another. And then another. And each time I studied my editor's comments and went back to that first story and reworked it again. I think the number of rewrites finally hit fifty. But at last I had a book worthy of submission. And wow! The difference between Version One and Version fifty.
My Christmas present? TARGET, Book One: The Protectors, finally sold and is out for the holidays. Holding that book ins my hands made everything worthwhile. I'd like to share a taste of it with you.
Blurb:
She didn’t know why her late father’s partner wanted to kill her or who the man was he was planning with. Only luck put her in place to overhear the conversation. But the threat was enough to send Kathryn Holt on a frantic flight, taking with her a flash drive that held the secrets of his business. With a big target painted on her back, mediocre, easily led Kathryn Holt became feisty and inventive Kate Griffin. But even Kate reached her limit the night her junker car broke down in the middle of Texas until Quinn, mysterious dark knight with secrets of his own appeared out of the night. Soon scorching sex was
neutralizing the intense fear she’d been living with and Quinn was ready to slay her dragons. But two shootings and two brushes with death nearly cost Kate her life and almost destroyed Quinn, bringing back memories he thought he’d buried. With the bad guys finally out of commission, will Kate and Quinn be able to salvage the passion that still smolders between them?Excerpt:
Cars whizzed by her on the highway in both directions. Kate didn’t know whether to be glad or mad no one stopped. She didn’t think she’d left any leads for Peter to pick up but after Los Angeles she wasn’t counting on anything. She swallowed the panic that kept clogging her throat. Here she was, out here in the open, vulnerable to anyone…
A blinding flash of headlights and the crunching of tires on gravel startled her, freezing her in place. Her stomach clenched and the familiar taste of fear crawled up her throat as a door slammed and a tall figure outlined in the lights moved toward her. God, could they have found her this easily? No, stop and take a breath, dummy. They’ve had all the miles since L.A. to catch her. Why wait for now?
Then who had stopped? Someone just as bad?
Kate looked frantically around her for a place to hide.
Too late. Here he came, whoever he was, a dark shadow moving toward her with panther-like grace.
“You look as if you could use some help.” The disembodied voice was deep, rusty, as if it wasn’t used much, and she detected a hint of a drawl.
Then he was in front of her, materializing like smoke out of the blackness of the night. Kate took a deep breath. Her heart banged against her ribs like a jackhammer, not just from fear. The unexpected visceral punch of his powerful male presence caught her totally off guard. It was the fatigue. It had to be.
“Sorry I scared you.” His voice was deep and gravelly. “I spotted you over here on the side of the highway and figured you had car trouble.”
“Y-Yes.” She cleared her throat. “Yes, I do.” As he came closer and the truck’s headlights shone on him, she got a better look.
He was tall and lean, a black tee shirt and worn black jeans molding his body, outlining every muscle. the jeans brushing the tops of scuffed western boots. Thick dark hair, just a little bit long and so inky it barely reflected the headlights, accentuated a lean face full of sharp planes and angles.
Dark stubble shadowed his jaw, and deep lines bracketed his mouth and the corners of his eyes. Not the face of someone who smiled often. His black eyes, looking out from beneath
thick, dark lashes, were like coal that had been chipped from the earth.
If her life had been normal—normal?—she’d have reacted to him like a cat to cream. But right now her only concern was staying alive, and she had no idea which side of that coin this man was on.
Find it at:
And please visit me at http://www.judithrochelle.com/
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2 comments:
Wait... no ranches!?!? LOL. Hey sweetie, Congratulations! Who is this out with?
Oh, but Quinn lives surrounded by them!! Thanks for the comment. This is with The Wild Rose Press and available at all the online bookstores in ebook and print.
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