WordShaping: Why I Write Fantasy - Rowena Cherry
One person who comments before June 12th on this interview or any of the illustrations will win (random drawing, no requirement to sign up for a newsletter etc) a $25 book token to buy any book available (by no means one of Rowena's!).
Comments are moderated by Amber Polo, host of the post.
Sunday, May 30, 2010
A Touching Story
With Memorial Day approaching, I wanted to share this touching story with you. It brought tears to my eyes.
MAY GOD BLESS THIS AIRLINE CAPTAIN:
He writes: My lead flight attendant came to me and said, "We have an H.R. on this flight." (H.R. stands for human remains.) "Are they military?" I asked.
'Yes', she said.
'Is there an escort?' I asked.
'Yes, I already assigned him a seat'.
'Would you please tell him to come to the flight deck. You can board him early," I said..
A short while later, a young army sergeant entered the flight deck. He was the image of the perfectly dressed soldier. He introduced himself and I asked him about his soldier. The escorts of these fallen soldiers talk about them as if they are still alive and still with us.
'My soldier is on his way back to Virginia ,'he said. He proceeded to answer my questions, but offered no words.
I asked him if there was anything I could do for him and he said no. I told him that he had the toughest job in the military and that I appreciated the work that he does for the families of our fallen soldiers The first officer and I got up out of our seats to shake his hand. He left the flight deck to find his seat.
We completed our preflight checks, pushed back and performed an uneventful departure. About 30 minutes into our flight I received a call from the lead flight attendant in the cabin. 'I just found out the family of the soldier we are carrying, is on board', she said. She then proceeded to tell me that the father, mother, wife and 2-year old daughter were escorting their son, husband, and father home. The family was upset because they were unable to see the container that the soldier was in before we left. We were on our way to a major hub at which the family was going to wait four hours for the connecting flight home to Virginia .
The father of the soldier told the flight attendant that knowing his son was below him in the cargo compartment and being unable to see him was too much for him and the family to bear. He had asked the flight attendant if there was anything that could be done to allow them to see him upon our arrival. The family wanted to be outside by the cargo door to watch the soldier being taken off the airplane. I could hear the desperation in the flight attendants voice when she asked me if there was anything I could do.. 'I'm on it', I said. I told her that I would get back to her.
Airborne communication with my company normally occurs in the form of e-mail like messages. I decided to bypass this system and contact my flight dispatcher directly on a secondary radio. There is a radio operator in the operations control center who connects you to the telephone of the dispatcher. I was in direct contact with the dispatcher. I explained the situation I had on board with the family and what it was the family wanted. He said he understood and that he would get back to me.
Two hours went by and I had not heard from the dispatcher. We were going to get busy soon and I needed to know what to tell the family. I sent a text message asking for an update. I saved the return message from the dispatcher and the following is the text:
'Captain, sorry it has taken so long to get back to you. There is policy on this now and I had to check on a few things. Upon your arrival a dedicated escort team will meet the aircraft. The team will escort the family to the ramp and plane side. A van will be used to load the remains with a secondary van for the family. The family will be taken to their departure area and escorted into the terminal where the remains can be seen on the ramp. It is a private area for the family only. When the connecting aircraft arrives, the family will be escorted onto the ramp and plane side to watch the remains being loaded for the final leg home. Captain, most of us here in flight control are veterans. Please pass our condolences on to the family. Thanks.'
I sent a message back telling flight control thanks for a good job. I printed out the message and gave it to the lead flight attendant to pass on to the father. The lead flight attendant was very thankful and told me, 'You have no idea how much this will mean to them.'
Things started getting busy for the descent, approach and landing. After landing, we cleared the runway and taxied to the ramp area. The ramp is huge with 15 gates on either side of the alleyway. It is always a busy area with aircraft maneuvering every which way to enter and exit. When we entered the ramp and checked in with the ramp controller, we were told that all traffic was being held for us.
'There is a team in place to meet the aircraft',we were told. It looked like it was all coming together, then I realized that once we turned the seat belt sign off, everyone would stand up at once and delay the family from getting off the airplane. As we approached our gate, I asked the copilot to tell the ramp controller we were going to stop short of the gate to make an announcement to the passengers. He did that and the ramp controller said, 'Take your time.'
I stopped the aircraft and set the parking brake. I pushed the public address button and said, 'Ladies and gentleman, this is your Captain speaking I have stopped short of our gate to make a special announcement. We have a passenger on board who deserves our honor and respect. His Name is Private XXXXXX, a soldier who recently lost his life. PrivateXXXXXX is under your feet in the cargo hold. Escorting him today is Army SergeantXXXXXXX. Also, on board are his father, mother, wife, and daughter. Your entire flight crew is asking for all passengers to remain in their seats to allow the family to exit the aircraft first. Thank you.'
We continued the turn to the gate, came to a stop and started our shutdown procedures. A couple of minutes later I opened the cockpit door. I found the two forward flight attendants crying, something you just do not see. I was told that after we came to a stop, every passenger on the aircraft stayed in their seats, waiting for the family to exit the aircraft.
When the family got up and gathered their things, a passenger slowly started to clap his hands. Moments later more passengers joined in and soon the entire aircraft was clapping. Words of 'God Bless You', I'm sorry, thank you, be proud, and other kind words were uttered to the family as they made their way down the aisle and out of the airplane. They were escorted down to the ramp to finally be with their loved one.
Many of the passengers disembarking thanked me for the announcement I had made. They were just words, I told them, I could say them over and over again, but nothing I say will bring back that brave soldier.
I respectfully ask that all of you reflect on this event and the sacrifices that millions of our men and women have made to ensure our freedom and safety in these United States of AMERICA.
MAY GOD BLESS THIS AIRLINE CAPTAIN:
He writes: My lead flight attendant came to me and said, "We have an H.R. on this flight." (H.R. stands for human remains.) "Are they military?" I asked.
'Yes', she said.
'Is there an escort?' I asked.
'Yes, I already assigned him a seat'.
'Would you please tell him to come to the flight deck. You can board him early," I said..
A short while later, a young army sergeant entered the flight deck. He was the image of the perfectly dressed soldier. He introduced himself and I asked him about his soldier. The escorts of these fallen soldiers talk about them as if they are still alive and still with us.
'My soldier is on his way back to Virginia ,'he said. He proceeded to answer my questions, but offered no words.
I asked him if there was anything I could do for him and he said no. I told him that he had the toughest job in the military and that I appreciated the work that he does for the families of our fallen soldiers The first officer and I got up out of our seats to shake his hand. He left the flight deck to find his seat.
We completed our preflight checks, pushed back and performed an uneventful departure. About 30 minutes into our flight I received a call from the lead flight attendant in the cabin. 'I just found out the family of the soldier we are carrying, is on board', she said. She then proceeded to tell me that the father, mother, wife and 2-year old daughter were escorting their son, husband, and father home. The family was upset because they were unable to see the container that the soldier was in before we left. We were on our way to a major hub at which the family was going to wait four hours for the connecting flight home to Virginia .
The father of the soldier told the flight attendant that knowing his son was below him in the cargo compartment and being unable to see him was too much for him and the family to bear. He had asked the flight attendant if there was anything that could be done to allow them to see him upon our arrival. The family wanted to be outside by the cargo door to watch the soldier being taken off the airplane. I could hear the desperation in the flight attendants voice when she asked me if there was anything I could do.. 'I'm on it', I said. I told her that I would get back to her.
Airborne communication with my company normally occurs in the form of e-mail like messages. I decided to bypass this system and contact my flight dispatcher directly on a secondary radio. There is a radio operator in the operations control center who connects you to the telephone of the dispatcher. I was in direct contact with the dispatcher. I explained the situation I had on board with the family and what it was the family wanted. He said he understood and that he would get back to me.
Two hours went by and I had not heard from the dispatcher. We were going to get busy soon and I needed to know what to tell the family. I sent a text message asking for an update. I saved the return message from the dispatcher and the following is the text:
'Captain, sorry it has taken so long to get back to you. There is policy on this now and I had to check on a few things. Upon your arrival a dedicated escort team will meet the aircraft. The team will escort the family to the ramp and plane side. A van will be used to load the remains with a secondary van for the family. The family will be taken to their departure area and escorted into the terminal where the remains can be seen on the ramp. It is a private area for the family only. When the connecting aircraft arrives, the family will be escorted onto the ramp and plane side to watch the remains being loaded for the final leg home. Captain, most of us here in flight control are veterans. Please pass our condolences on to the family. Thanks.'
I sent a message back telling flight control thanks for a good job. I printed out the message and gave it to the lead flight attendant to pass on to the father. The lead flight attendant was very thankful and told me, 'You have no idea how much this will mean to them.'
Things started getting busy for the descent, approach and landing. After landing, we cleared the runway and taxied to the ramp area. The ramp is huge with 15 gates on either side of the alleyway. It is always a busy area with aircraft maneuvering every which way to enter and exit. When we entered the ramp and checked in with the ramp controller, we were told that all traffic was being held for us.
'There is a team in place to meet the aircraft',we were told. It looked like it was all coming together, then I realized that once we turned the seat belt sign off, everyone would stand up at once and delay the family from getting off the airplane. As we approached our gate, I asked the copilot to tell the ramp controller we were going to stop short of the gate to make an announcement to the passengers. He did that and the ramp controller said, 'Take your time.'
I stopped the aircraft and set the parking brake. I pushed the public address button and said, 'Ladies and gentleman, this is your Captain speaking I have stopped short of our gate to make a special announcement. We have a passenger on board who deserves our honor and respect. His Name is Private XXXXXX, a soldier who recently lost his life. PrivateXXXXXX is under your feet in the cargo hold. Escorting him today is Army SergeantXXXXXXX. Also, on board are his father, mother, wife, and daughter. Your entire flight crew is asking for all passengers to remain in their seats to allow the family to exit the aircraft first. Thank you.'
We continued the turn to the gate, came to a stop and started our shutdown procedures. A couple of minutes later I opened the cockpit door. I found the two forward flight attendants crying, something you just do not see. I was told that after we came to a stop, every passenger on the aircraft stayed in their seats, waiting for the family to exit the aircraft.
When the family got up and gathered their things, a passenger slowly started to clap his hands. Moments later more passengers joined in and soon the entire aircraft was clapping. Words of 'God Bless You', I'm sorry, thank you, be proud, and other kind words were uttered to the family as they made their way down the aisle and out of the airplane. They were escorted down to the ramp to finally be with their loved one.
Many of the passengers disembarking thanked me for the announcement I had made. They were just words, I told them, I could say them over and over again, but nothing I say will bring back that brave soldier.
I respectfully ask that all of you reflect on this event and the sacrifices that millions of our men and women have made to ensure our freedom and safety in these United States of AMERICA.
This is just some of what is going to be given away at my Big! Huge! Reader Contest! this June.
Three of the boxes each hold bags, books, and goodies I brought back from the RT Booklovers Convention and one box holds a t-shirt, blanket, water bottle and, amongst other things, a Pink...um, actually, you'll have to wait until June 1st to find that out!
So, my advice is to use the "follow" button I added to the right column of my blog for just this occassion and prepare to talk books. It's all happening on Tilly Greene's Hot Thoughts Blog throughout June and the more days you visit and comment, the more chances you have to win that one box.
Tilly Greene
WARNING! Red hot romances ahead!
www.tillygreene.com/
Hot Thoughts Blog|Facebook|Twitter
Friday, May 28, 2010
Read Your Fiction: It's Good For You! by Misty Evans
I don’t watch the news anymore, and avoid most reality TV shows. I’ve even given up watching the weather report.
Why?
The drama. I can’t stand all The Drama.
Every story, big or small, is sensationalized. Every weather report too. Listening to all the ‘newsworthy’ stories and watching videos about them makes me depressed, and if I really want constant drama, I need only look to my family. Besides, studies show putting all that negative stuff into your brain is bad for you.
When I watch TV, I want to be entertained, and there are a plethora of shows these days, from modern day gun slingers (Justified) to yogurt-eating spies (Burn Notice), providing more realistic drama than CNN.
Along with great TV shows, there are thousands of entertaining books to read, and depending on my day or mood, I can choose whether I want a dose of humor or tragedy. Whether I want a thrilling adventure or a happily-ever-after (or both!). And when I’m done reading, there’s an end to the drama – something you rarely get with news, where every story is on an endless loop of the same information. Even if a book is a sad story, I don’t feel depressed when I finish it. I can sigh and hope there’s a sequel.
Am I a Polly Anna? Maybe, but it sure beats being Downer Debbie, so here are a few 100% all-natural reads, guaranteed to make you feel better:
Relatively Crazy by Ellen Dye
Obsessed By Wildfire by Autumn Jordan
Julie and Julia by Julie Powell (this is nonfiction, but so good!)
Angelic Avenger by Kaye Chambers
Texas Tangle by Leah Braemel (coming June 28th from Carina Press)
You may not want to give up Survivor or the Today Show any time soon, but try getting some of your daily drama quotient from a book or two this summer. Fictional drama can help you cope with real life drama and balance your hormones. (Okay, I made that last part up, but fiction IS good for you. Google it!)
Misty Evans likes her drama with sexy heroes and a side of sassy heroine. Learn more about her super agent series at www.readmistyevans.com or chat with her on twitter at www.twitter.com/readmistyevans.
Why?
The drama. I can’t stand all The Drama.
Every story, big or small, is sensationalized. Every weather report too. Listening to all the ‘newsworthy’ stories and watching videos about them makes me depressed, and if I really want constant drama, I need only look to my family.
When I watch TV, I want to be entertained, and there are a plethora of shows these days, from modern day gun slingers (Justified) to yogurt-eating spies (Burn Notice), providing more realistic drama than CNN.
Along with great TV shows, there are thousands of entertaining books to read, and depending on my day or mood, I can choose whether I want a dose of humor or tragedy. Whether I want a thrilling adventure or a happily-ever-after (or both!). And when I’m done reading, there’s an end to the drama – something you rarely get with news, where every story is on an endless loop of the same information. Even if a book is a sad story, I don’t feel depressed when I finish it. I can sigh and hope there’s a sequel.
Am I a Polly Anna? Maybe, but it sure beats being Downer Debbie, so here are a few 100% all-natural reads, guaranteed to make you feel better:
Relatively Crazy by Ellen Dye
Obsessed By Wildfire by Autumn Jordan
Julie and Julia by Julie Powell (this is nonfiction, but so good!)
Angelic Avenger by Kaye Chambers
Texas Tangle by Leah Braemel (coming June 28th from Carina Press)
You may not want to give up Survivor or the Today Show any time soon, but try getting some of your daily drama quotient from a book or two this summer. Fictional drama can help you cope with real life drama and balance your hormones. (Okay, I made that last part up, but fiction IS good for you. Google it!)
Misty Evans likes her drama with sexy heroes and a side of sassy heroine. Learn more about her super agent series at www.readmistyevans.com or chat with her on twitter at www.twitter.com/readmistyevans.
Wednesday, May 26, 2010
Handsome Fantasy Heroes DO ME GOOD
I’m a sucker for a handsome face. I like men with symmetrical features who are easy on the eye. No ruggedly handsome, craggy types with a two-day stubble and unkempt hair for me. My fantasy hero has a smooth jaw line that doesn’t scratch my tender skin, a gorgeous face to match a well-toned body, and smells fresh enough to have stepped from the shower. He’s confident and commanding and not afraid to love a woman. That’s my type of man and the hero I created for DO ME GOOD.
The hero of DO ME GOOD, Gunnar, is my first otherworldly protagonist, and I admit I’ve developed a crush on him. He’s a fearless Nordic warrior cast into eternal servitude during a time when mortals served gods and goddesses. He becomes a celestial in the pre-Christian period before those who interacted with both gods and mortals were called angels. Gunnar is a Nordic Light Elf and so handsome he is “fairer to look upon than the sun.”
I hope you enjoy DO ME GOOD as much as I enjoyed creating this story. Here’s a sample of the book with a summary, excerpt, and link to the You Tube book video. Thanks for reading.
*****
DO ME GOOD by Adele Dubois
Ellora’s Cave
Buy Link:
http://www.jasminejade.com/ps-8301-50-do-me-good.aspx
Watch The Book Video:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-nvlyXEQUZk
Summary:
Penny throws her hot, but worthless mooch of a boyfriend out on her front lawn with his clothes, and vows never again to be a bum magnet. Exhausted by overwork and mountainous debt, Penny pleads for divine intervention.
Gunnar, a rebellious Nordic warrior cast into servitude by an angry god to learn humility, answers. While Penny sleeps, the celestial arrives to complete her household chores, but she awakens and finds him. The handsome immortal kisses her, sparking a passionate, forbidden sexual encounter.
Dark forces seeking vengeance for Gunnar’s past misdeeds mark Penny as a target. To protect his lover, Gunnar tests immortality in a death battle using a god’s magical sword. But the strength of Penny’s love might be what saves them both.
Excerpt:
He smoothed the hair at her temple and then rubbed a thick tendril between his thumb and forefinger. “I am Gunnar.” He pronounced the name “Goo-nar”.
A coarse brand of the sun, surrounded by a circle on the back of his hand, and covering the areas between his thumb, index knuckle and wrist caught her eye. His hand looked muscular and powerful beneath her gaze.
She touched the scarred skin with the tips of her fingers while he held a length of her hair, recognizing Freyr’s sacred insignia from her textbooks. “The pain must have been excruciating.” Without thinking, she lifted the old wound to her mouth and laid four kisses against its perimeter before pressing a fifth to the emblem inside.
A low tremor vibrated across her lips as they touched the ancient symbol on the white, extended hand. The brand grew warm and then hot on her mouth, though it did not burn. Her lips tingled and her body hummed with the pleasant sensations. She ran her tongue over the thick scars to erase the heat and then licked the center with the tip of her tongue in a tiny swirl before lifting her head.
His gasp of surprise was the last thing she expected as he released her hair and leaned away.
“Have I offended you? I’m sorry.” She searched his face for clues as to what to do next. Behind his shocked expression she found desire and longing and something completely unexpected.
Thankfulness.
Penny waited for his reply without letting go of his disfigured hand. She could tell his next words didn’t come easily.
“Kindness isn’t something I’m used to finding. Perhaps you’d be less inclined toward compassion if you knew what I’d done to deserve this brand of servitude.”
She reached out and hooked her arm around his neck to bring his face closer to hers. “I am Penelope. And if you are from Alfheim, I know who and what you are. I just don’t understand why you’ve come.” How could she deserve his rare, benevolent gifts? She was just an ordinary woman, barely scraping by.
“Sometimes we get what we need, simply because we ask. That’s the beauty and power of the unexpected.” His warm breath grazed her cheek in shallow rushes, lifting goose bumps across her skin. His wide, firm mouth smelled of sweet ground parsley and fresh-picked mint.
Their gazes locked and held, assessing, appraising.
Searching.
Gunnar’s eyes were like pools of deep blue water speckled with light that pulled her in and down. Down. Her breathing slowed as the sound of her heartbeat intensified in her ears and the inside of her mouth moistened. She licked her lips and became intensely aware of every nerve ending shimmering along her body. Her muscles tensed as if waiting for something unexpected to happen.
As if meeting a Nordic Light Elf in the flesh wasn’t amazing enough.
Just when she wondered how his mouth would taste, he brought his lips to hers and kissed her. An explosion of kinetic energy shot vibrations through her body that prickled every fiber and muscle, held her taut and then released, leaving her breathless.
****
Buy Link:
http://www.jasminejade.com/ps-8301-50-do-me-good.aspx
Adele Dubois website:
http://www.adeledubois.com
The hero of DO ME GOOD, Gunnar, is my first otherworldly protagonist, and I admit I’ve developed a crush on him. He’s a fearless Nordic warrior cast into eternal servitude during a time when mortals served gods and goddesses. He becomes a celestial in the pre-Christian period before those who interacted with both gods and mortals were called angels. Gunnar is a Nordic Light Elf and so handsome he is “fairer to look upon than the sun.”
I hope you enjoy DO ME GOOD as much as I enjoyed creating this story. Here’s a sample of the book with a summary, excerpt, and link to the You Tube book video. Thanks for reading.
*****
DO ME GOOD by Adele Dubois
Ellora’s Cave
Buy Link:
http://www.jasminejade.com/ps-8301-50-do-me-good.aspx
Watch The Book Video:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-nvlyXEQUZk
Summary:
Penny throws her hot, but worthless mooch of a boyfriend out on her front lawn with his clothes, and vows never again to be a bum magnet. Exhausted by overwork and mountainous debt, Penny pleads for divine intervention.
Gunnar, a rebellious Nordic warrior cast into servitude by an angry god to learn humility, answers. While Penny sleeps, the celestial arrives to complete her household chores, but she awakens and finds him. The handsome immortal kisses her, sparking a passionate, forbidden sexual encounter.
Dark forces seeking vengeance for Gunnar’s past misdeeds mark Penny as a target. To protect his lover, Gunnar tests immortality in a death battle using a god’s magical sword. But the strength of Penny’s love might be what saves them both.
Excerpt:
He smoothed the hair at her temple and then rubbed a thick tendril between his thumb and forefinger. “I am Gunnar.” He pronounced the name “Goo-nar”.
A coarse brand of the sun, surrounded by a circle on the back of his hand, and covering the areas between his thumb, index knuckle and wrist caught her eye. His hand looked muscular and powerful beneath her gaze.
She touched the scarred skin with the tips of her fingers while he held a length of her hair, recognizing Freyr’s sacred insignia from her textbooks. “The pain must have been excruciating.” Without thinking, she lifted the old wound to her mouth and laid four kisses against its perimeter before pressing a fifth to the emblem inside.
A low tremor vibrated across her lips as they touched the ancient symbol on the white, extended hand. The brand grew warm and then hot on her mouth, though it did not burn. Her lips tingled and her body hummed with the pleasant sensations. She ran her tongue over the thick scars to erase the heat and then licked the center with the tip of her tongue in a tiny swirl before lifting her head.
His gasp of surprise was the last thing she expected as he released her hair and leaned away.
“Have I offended you? I’m sorry.” She searched his face for clues as to what to do next. Behind his shocked expression she found desire and longing and something completely unexpected.
Thankfulness.
Penny waited for his reply without letting go of his disfigured hand. She could tell his next words didn’t come easily.
“Kindness isn’t something I’m used to finding. Perhaps you’d be less inclined toward compassion if you knew what I’d done to deserve this brand of servitude.”
She reached out and hooked her arm around his neck to bring his face closer to hers. “I am Penelope. And if you are from Alfheim, I know who and what you are. I just don’t understand why you’ve come.” How could she deserve his rare, benevolent gifts? She was just an ordinary woman, barely scraping by.
“Sometimes we get what we need, simply because we ask. That’s the beauty and power of the unexpected.” His warm breath grazed her cheek in shallow rushes, lifting goose bumps across her skin. His wide, firm mouth smelled of sweet ground parsley and fresh-picked mint.
Their gazes locked and held, assessing, appraising.
Searching.
Gunnar’s eyes were like pools of deep blue water speckled with light that pulled her in and down. Down. Her breathing slowed as the sound of her heartbeat intensified in her ears and the inside of her mouth moistened. She licked her lips and became intensely aware of every nerve ending shimmering along her body. Her muscles tensed as if waiting for something unexpected to happen.
As if meeting a Nordic Light Elf in the flesh wasn’t amazing enough.
Just when she wondered how his mouth would taste, he brought his lips to hers and kissed her. An explosion of kinetic energy shot vibrations through her body that prickled every fiber and muscle, held her taut and then released, leaving her breathless.
****
Buy Link:
http://www.jasminejade.com/ps-8301-50-do-me-good.aspx
Adele Dubois website:
http://www.adeledubois.com
Tuesday, May 25, 2010
Literary Laryngitis
“I’m losing my voice,” my friend croaked, and I cringed in sympathy. What was left of her normally pleasant voice sounded painful at best.
“Maybe you shouldn’t be trying to talk,” I suggested. In all honesty, her croaking attempts at conversation grated on my nerves and set up an empathetic ache in my own throat. I handed her a notebook and pen. “Here, use this. Save your voice.”
Of course she didn’t listen. Her refusal to do so cost me an hour or two of auditory torture. And within two days, my vocally challenged pal couldn’t speak a word. For several days, she silently consumed juices and acid reflux medications. Yep, turned out, her recurrent problem with reflux was the culprit all along—the nasty stuff had damaged her vocal cords.
Laryngitis (weak voice or voice loss) usually lasts less than a few weeks and is caused by something minor, like a cold. Sometimes, however, something more serious brings it on, and it sticks around a good, long while. For instance, vocal strain (most often caused by yelling or overuse of the voice) can cause serious damage. Professional singers, who use and abuse their voices on a regular basis, are prone to laryngitis, as are impressionists, who strain their own voices by forcing them to take on the vocal attributes of others.
Writers often suffer a similar malady, losing their voice by using it to imitate an author (or authors) they like and admire. Eventually, their own literary personality is lost because they learn to be such incredible copycats of other voices—leaving them without one of their own.
The culprit? Writer’s reflux. Whereas acid reflux burns the esophageal tissue, writer’s reflux damages literary muscles. We mentally consume and digest the works of other authors. This is not a bad thing—one cannot write without reading. The trouble starts when we begin to rework the ideas, words, and voice of that other author. The result is not pretty: It’s writer’s reflux, a condition in which writers regurgitate what they’ve read into their own manuscripts, often not even quite realizing they’ve done so. Enamored of someone else’s way of saying things, they refuse to process their own ideas, come up with their own turns of phrase, seek out their own style of writing. This weakens and deteriorates the creative “muscles,” damages writing ability and eventually causes complete loss of voice. Result: Literary Laryngitis.
We all learn by reading other authors. To some degree, we all mold ourselves in the image of our favorite writers, just as a child imitates the handwriting samples provided him by his teacher. This is natural and to be expected. But at some point that child begins to add his own flourishes to the script, starts to form letters according to his own taste and imagination. Eventually he develops a unique signature that is his alone.
What we need then, as writers, is our own literary “signature.” A writing style that is unmistakably ours. A way of saying things that clearly identifies our work as belonging to us.
A unique voice. An unmistakable signature. May I suggest a fingerprint? One of a kind. Unmistakable. No chance whatsoever of duplication.
On the flipside, sometimes we just need to take a break. Overusing a voice also causes damage that can lead to laryngitis. Give it a break. Dive into a good book. Watch a good movie. Take a walk. (Study a few books and articles on developing voice.) Make these little detours the self-prescribed “chicken soup for the writer’s soul” that puts you on the road to recovery.
Before you know it, your voice will be back—and entirely your own.
About this author:
DELIA LATHAM is a born-and-bred California gal, recently transplanted to Oklahoma where she lives with her husband Johnny. She’s a Christian wife, mother, grandmother, sister, and friend—but above all, she treasures her role as child of the King and heir to the throne of God. Delia enjoys big, loud, happy family gatherings. When she’s not writing, she loves to play piano and sing, read, enjoy nature’s beauty, and design marketing products for authors. Her inspirational novel, Goldeneyes, was released in March 2008; Yesterday’s Promise in March 2010; Adam’s Wings (a children’s book) will be available December 2010. Find out more about this author at www.delialatham.net.
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Note:
This blog post is one of the stops on the blog tour for Yesterday’s Promise. I hope you’ll follow along! Two commenters (winners to be chosen from comments at the various blog stops) will win $10 gift certificates to White Rose Publishing. Blog stops remaining are:
May 26: White Roses in Bloom, hosted by JoAnn Carter
May 27: Carla’s Writing CafĆ©, hosted by Carla Stewart
May 28: Coming Home, hosted by Miralee Ferrell (“Blog” page)
Previous blog stops are listed here, if you’d like to backtrack. Every comment gains you one more entry.
“Maybe you shouldn’t be trying to talk,” I suggested. In all honesty, her croaking attempts at conversation grated on my nerves and set up an empathetic ache in my own throat. I handed her a notebook and pen. “Here, use this. Save your voice.”
Of course she didn’t listen. Her refusal to do so cost me an hour or two of auditory torture. And within two days, my vocally challenged pal couldn’t speak a word. For several days, she silently consumed juices and acid reflux medications. Yep, turned out, her recurrent problem with reflux was the culprit all along—the nasty stuff had damaged her vocal cords.
Laryngitis (weak voice or voice loss) usually lasts less than a few weeks and is caused by something minor, like a cold. Sometimes, however, something more serious brings it on, and it sticks around a good, long while. For instance, vocal strain (most often caused by yelling or overuse of the voice) can cause serious damage. Professional singers, who use and abuse their voices on a regular basis, are prone to laryngitis, as are impressionists, who strain their own voices by forcing them to take on the vocal attributes of others.
Writers often suffer a similar malady, losing their voice by using it to imitate an author (or authors) they like and admire. Eventually, their own literary personality is lost because they learn to be such incredible copycats of other voices—leaving them without one of their own.
The culprit? Writer’s reflux. Whereas acid reflux burns the esophageal tissue, writer’s reflux damages literary muscles. We mentally consume and digest the works of other authors. This is not a bad thing—one cannot write without reading. The trouble starts when we begin to rework the ideas, words, and voice of that other author. The result is not pretty: It’s writer’s reflux, a condition in which writers regurgitate what they’ve read into their own manuscripts, often not even quite realizing they’ve done so. Enamored of someone else’s way of saying things, they refuse to process their own ideas, come up with their own turns of phrase, seek out their own style of writing. This weakens and deteriorates the creative “muscles,” damages writing ability and eventually causes complete loss of voice. Result: Literary Laryngitis.
We all learn by reading other authors. To some degree, we all mold ourselves in the image of our favorite writers, just as a child imitates the handwriting samples provided him by his teacher. This is natural and to be expected. But at some point that child begins to add his own flourishes to the script, starts to form letters according to his own taste and imagination. Eventually he develops a unique signature that is his alone.
What we need then, as writers, is our own literary “signature.” A writing style that is unmistakably ours. A way of saying things that clearly identifies our work as belonging to us.
A unique voice. An unmistakable signature. May I suggest a fingerprint? One of a kind. Unmistakable. No chance whatsoever of duplication.
On the flipside, sometimes we just need to take a break. Overusing a voice also causes damage that can lead to laryngitis. Give it a break. Dive into a good book. Watch a good movie. Take a walk. (Study a few books and articles on developing voice.) Make these little detours the self-prescribed “chicken soup for the writer’s soul” that puts you on the road to recovery.
Before you know it, your voice will be back—and entirely your own.
About this author:
DELIA LATHAM is a born-and-bred California gal, recently transplanted to Oklahoma where she lives with her husband Johnny. She’s a Christian wife, mother, grandmother, sister, and friend—but above all, she treasures her role as child of the King and heir to the throne of God. Delia enjoys big, loud, happy family gatherings. When she’s not writing, she loves to play piano and sing, read, enjoy nature’s beauty, and design marketing products for authors. Her inspirational novel, Goldeneyes, was released in March 2008; Yesterday’s Promise in March 2010; Adam’s Wings (a children’s book) will be available December 2010. Find out more about this author at www.delialatham.net.
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Note:This blog post is one of the stops on the blog tour for Yesterday’s Promise. I hope you’ll follow along! Two commenters (winners to be chosen from comments at the various blog stops) will win $10 gift certificates to White Rose Publishing. Blog stops remaining are:
May 26: White Roses in Bloom, hosted by JoAnn Carter
May 27: Carla’s Writing CafĆ©, hosted by Carla Stewart
May 28: Coming Home, hosted by Miralee Ferrell (“Blog” page)
Previous blog stops are listed here, if you’d like to backtrack. Every comment gains you one more entry.
Monday, May 24, 2010
My birthday and you get the presents
Happy Birthday to me! Yes, its my birthday and you get the presents! Today I'm running a contest to win a free copy of our new release, You Burn Me.
A priestess of The Morrigan, Xxieda Rolla is a woman who has known success in her business, fulfillment in her family life and is only missing one thing: the love of the man that would have her for always. Sent to Shadow Heights New York by her goddess to find him, she meets the ever tasty, ever surly Dante Barratt. Sparks fly, and so does Amaretto Latte. Dante, a dealer of rare and illegal commodities, and a very tempestuous fire demon might want the woman who's brown eyes haunt him, but knows better then to get involved with someone who just screams purity. Shes hot, and successful in ways he never could be, and knows a man that just gave away his soul like he did didn't deserve a woman like that. After a chance encounter on a dark street corner, and an earth shattering kiss, Both are powerless to deny the chemistry between them... until Xxieda tells him her secret: shes a virgin. Caught between his head and his heart, can Dante accept the fact that Fate sometimes gives us exactly what we really need, not what we think we want?
Its a sweet little story about obsession, and the lengths someone will go to get the guy of their dreams. Its also one of my favorite stories we have about one of my favorite characters, Dante. Hes a caustic SOB that stole my heart when we were writing him, well that and our hot muse for him. For Dante, we chose the ever hot James Purefoy, and hes my favorite *grin*
So how do you win this book? Simple! leave a comment here and I'll choose a winner at random and post on my next day here which is June 1st. So get your comments in, and good luck!
A priestess of The Morrigan, Xxieda Rolla is a woman who has known success in her business, fulfillment in her family life and is only missing one thing: the love of the man that would have her for always. Sent to Shadow Heights New York by her goddess to find him, she meets the ever tasty, ever surly Dante Barratt. Sparks fly, and so does Amaretto Latte. Dante, a dealer of rare and illegal commodities, and a very tempestuous fire demon might want the woman who's brown eyes haunt him, but knows better then to get involved with someone who just screams purity. Shes hot, and successful in ways he never could be, and knows a man that just gave away his soul like he did didn't deserve a woman like that. After a chance encounter on a dark street corner, and an earth shattering kiss, Both are powerless to deny the chemistry between them... until Xxieda tells him her secret: shes a virgin. Caught between his head and his heart, can Dante accept the fact that Fate sometimes gives us exactly what we really need, not what we think we want?
Its a sweet little story about obsession, and the lengths someone will go to get the guy of their dreams. Its also one of my favorite stories we have about one of my favorite characters, Dante. Hes a caustic SOB that stole my heart when we were writing him, well that and our hot muse for him. For Dante, we chose the ever hot James Purefoy, and hes my favorite *grin*
So how do you win this book? Simple! leave a comment here and I'll choose a winner at random and post on my next day here which is June 1st. So get your comments in, and good luck!
Friday, May 21, 2010
It's Sweet Thursday!
Yep. I know it's Friday, but for me it's a very Sweet Thursday kind of day. Book four in my Wild Irish series at Ellora's Cave releases today and I'm so excited to see this book hit the shelves!
Nearly a year ago, I decided I wanted to challenge myself with a full-fledged series. I’m a huge fan of Lora Leigh’s Men of August, Lauren Dane’s Chase Brothers, and Madison Hayes’ Calendar Girls. After searching for an ‘angle’, I decided to create a series around the days of the week and the old nursery rhyme, Monday’s Child.
Monday’s child is fair of face,
Tuesday’s child is full of grace,
Wednesday’s child is full of woe,
Thursday’s child has far to go,
Friday’s child is loving and giving,
Saturday’s child works hard for a living,
But the child who is born on the Sabbath day,
Is bonny and blithe and good and gay.
Tuesday’s child is full of grace,
Wednesday’s child is full of woe,
Thursday’s child has far to go,
Friday’s child is loving and giving,
Saturday’s child works hard for a living,
But the child who is born on the Sabbath day,
Is bonny and blithe and good and gay.
Come Monday, Ruby Tuesday, and Waiting for Wednesday are already available at Ellora’s Cave. I'm now working on completing the series with the final three books, Friday I'm in Love, Saturday Night Special and Any Given Sunday.
Blurb:
In high school, Lily was too shy to do anything about her feelings for her best friends, Justin and Killian. Now she’s ready to put to rest her regrets with a proposal that might shock even her oversexed friends—the three of them, together, one night, multiple positions.
K and J are more than a little surprised to see Lily at their ten-year reunion. The plain Jane they remember is now a stunning woman—who wants to have sex with both of them. Who are they to deny her? Even if Killian suspects they might be treading on dangerous emotional territory.
The night stretches into the weekend and, as K suspected, none of them want it to end. But he and Lily know people live in pairs, not trios, and they call a halt now, before it’s too late.
Justin, however, knows a good thing when he sees it. He’s ready to fight for what he wants…what they all need. He just has to convince Lily and Killian that unconventional can also be extraordinary.
K and J are more than a little surprised to see Lily at their ten-year reunion. The plain Jane they remember is now a stunning woman—who wants to have sex with both of them. Who are they to deny her? Even if Killian suspects they might be treading on dangerous emotional territory.
The night stretches into the weekend and, as K suspected, none of them want it to end. But he and Lily know people live in pairs, not trios, and they call a halt now, before it’s too late.
Justin, however, knows a good thing when he sees it. He’s ready to fight for what he wants…what they all need. He just has to convince Lily and Killian that unconventional can also be extraordinary.
Excerpt:
“I don’t picture Lily as a one-night-stand kind of girl.”
“You heard her, Killian. You heard her say she wanted to have a little fun. Fine. We’ll lay it all out on the line for her. You can issue your gloom and doom and dire warnings and we’ll let her decide. She’s an adult. Regardless of who she was to us a decade ago, she’s changed. You’re protecting the memory of the shy girl she was. Why not try to get to know the woman she’s grown into?”
“Yeah.” Lily’s voice drifted down from above them. “Why not get to know me now?”
Justin looked up and wondered how much of their conversation she’d heard. He’d expected to see anger on her face, but instead she simply looked…beautiful. Christ. He tried to ignore the small voice in the back of his head that said he really was a heartless bastard.
She smiled serenely and took her seat between them again. “Still trying to protect me, Killian?”
Killian shrugged. “I’m not sure you know what you’re asking for, Lil.”
She looked at his friend, reaching over to take Killian’s large hand in her own. “I know exactly what I’m asking for, and I knew before I came here tonight that if there was the slightest chance of capturing your attention, I’d take it.” She glanced over her shoulder to include Justin in the “your”.
“God, K. I don’t think you understand how much I want to do this. I’m sick of coloring inside the lines all the time. I want to grab hold of this opportunity to be free and wild and uninhibited—for just one night. I don’t want to look back at my life in fifty years and realize I never did one daring thing. I’m tired of regrets.”
“If we do this—” Killian started.
She placed her finger over his lips. “When we do this,” she corrected.
“We call the shots. We decide what your limits are. If you can’t agree to that, then no deal.”
Justin fought the urge to contradict Killian’s threat. “We’ll give you what you want, Lily. We’ll take care of you.”
She ran a manicured hand through her long, dark hair, pushing it behind her shoulder, and his breath caught at the way the movement thrust her breasts forward. Where the hell had this Lily come from? Her every movement seemed to scream sex and seduction.
She’d been with him and Killian throughout their teen years and he’d always thought she was cute, but this woman? Holy crap. He’d never approached her sexually in high school because she was too sweet, too innocent, too…well, unavailable. She hadn’t been kidding about the ever-watchful eyes of her parents. To say they kept her under their thumb was an understatement. Plus, the younger Lily had given off some serious untouchable vibes, where this older, more mature Lily was sending up a beacon he’d have to be a blind man to miss.
“I can take care of myself.” Her voice was low, husky and sure, and Justin grimaced at the ever-growing tightness in his pants. Damn zipper was chafing his cock. This was the last time he went commando.
Killian sighed. “Yeah, well, I don’t know why you’re so sure we’re your ‘wild side’ guys. It’s been ten years, Lily. Don’t you think there’s a chance we’ve changed a bit?”
“I know we haven’t seen each other, but I’ve read your letters, your emails over the years. I think I know exactly what kind of men you are.” She ran her hands along her thighs nervously. “I’ve missed a lot of opportunities in my past and I regret that fact. I want to be someone different and I figure tonight could kick off my new future in style.” She thrust out her breasts and fluffed her hair, feigning sex appeal with her quirky sense of humor. “Besides, I bought this new outfit, got a fancy haircut, practiced walking in these damn heels—all just for you two.”
They laughed, but her words touched something inside Justin. If there was one thing he could understand, it was regrets. It was as if she could see inside his head. She was a good friend, but regardless of the fact she was dressed to kill, she was treading on unfamiliar ground.
Rather than acknowledge how much her comments touched him, he reverted to form and made a joke. “Jesus. Twenty-eight years old and you’re still doing your homework.”
Lily grinned, leaning forward and giving him an eyeful of her cleavage. “Do you have a problem with that?”
“Hell no,” he said, expelling a breath on the words.
“You know, it’s a far cry from us being friends to us being willing participants of a mĆ©nage. What makes you think Justin and I would go for something like that?”
Justin narrowed his eyes at Killian’s comment.
“I was your friend in high school,” she said. “And I’ve never been an idiot. I heard the rumors, the whispers of the other girls in the locker room.”
Justin leaned back for a moment and considered her answer. She’d heard about them. All these years, she’d known about their penchant for sharing.
Killian’s hand moved from the back of her chair to her face. He cupped the back of her head, forcing her to look at him.
“Haven’t you ever heard that expression, ‘Be careful what you wish for’?”
She offered them both a cute, gentle smile, her face artlessly pleading. “It’s just one wish, K, one night. Please.”
“Damn. Power look,” Killian muttered and his hand dropped to his lap.
She paused, obviously confused, but Justin understood exactly what his friend was talking about. She’d taken him down with that look too and he was pretty sure neither one of them was going to refuse her a damn thing tonight.
“Do you even know what you’re asking for?” Killian added.
She narrowed her eyes, annoyed. “I’m not thick, Killian. I know what I want to happen tonight.”
Justin leaned even closer. “Tell us. Put it in words.”
She grinned at his challenge and he was blown away by the daring woman facing him down. “Sex. You, me, K. Bed optional. As many positions as we can squeeze into the night.”
“I don’t picture Lily as a one-night-stand kind of girl.”
“You heard her, Killian. You heard her say she wanted to have a little fun. Fine. We’ll lay it all out on the line for her. You can issue your gloom and doom and dire warnings and we’ll let her decide. She’s an adult. Regardless of who she was to us a decade ago, she’s changed. You’re protecting the memory of the shy girl she was. Why not try to get to know the woman she’s grown into?”
“Yeah.” Lily’s voice drifted down from above them. “Why not get to know me now?”
Justin looked up and wondered how much of their conversation she’d heard. He’d expected to see anger on her face, but instead she simply looked…beautiful. Christ. He tried to ignore the small voice in the back of his head that said he really was a heartless bastard.
She smiled serenely and took her seat between them again. “Still trying to protect me, Killian?”
Killian shrugged. “I’m not sure you know what you’re asking for, Lil.”
She looked at his friend, reaching over to take Killian’s large hand in her own. “I know exactly what I’m asking for, and I knew before I came here tonight that if there was the slightest chance of capturing your attention, I’d take it.” She glanced over her shoulder to include Justin in the “your”.
“God, K. I don’t think you understand how much I want to do this. I’m sick of coloring inside the lines all the time. I want to grab hold of this opportunity to be free and wild and uninhibited—for just one night. I don’t want to look back at my life in fifty years and realize I never did one daring thing. I’m tired of regrets.”
“If we do this—” Killian started.
She placed her finger over his lips. “When we do this,” she corrected.
“We call the shots. We decide what your limits are. If you can’t agree to that, then no deal.”
Justin fought the urge to contradict Killian’s threat. “We’ll give you what you want, Lily. We’ll take care of you.”
She ran a manicured hand through her long, dark hair, pushing it behind her shoulder, and his breath caught at the way the movement thrust her breasts forward. Where the hell had this Lily come from? Her every movement seemed to scream sex and seduction.
She’d been with him and Killian throughout their teen years and he’d always thought she was cute, but this woman? Holy crap. He’d never approached her sexually in high school because she was too sweet, too innocent, too…well, unavailable. She hadn’t been kidding about the ever-watchful eyes of her parents. To say they kept her under their thumb was an understatement. Plus, the younger Lily had given off some serious untouchable vibes, where this older, more mature Lily was sending up a beacon he’d have to be a blind man to miss.
“I can take care of myself.” Her voice was low, husky and sure, and Justin grimaced at the ever-growing tightness in his pants. Damn zipper was chafing his cock. This was the last time he went commando.
Killian sighed. “Yeah, well, I don’t know why you’re so sure we’re your ‘wild side’ guys. It’s been ten years, Lily. Don’t you think there’s a chance we’ve changed a bit?”
“I know we haven’t seen each other, but I’ve read your letters, your emails over the years. I think I know exactly what kind of men you are.” She ran her hands along her thighs nervously. “I’ve missed a lot of opportunities in my past and I regret that fact. I want to be someone different and I figure tonight could kick off my new future in style.” She thrust out her breasts and fluffed her hair, feigning sex appeal with her quirky sense of humor. “Besides, I bought this new outfit, got a fancy haircut, practiced walking in these damn heels—all just for you two.”
They laughed, but her words touched something inside Justin. If there was one thing he could understand, it was regrets. It was as if she could see inside his head. She was a good friend, but regardless of the fact she was dressed to kill, she was treading on unfamiliar ground.
Rather than acknowledge how much her comments touched him, he reverted to form and made a joke. “Jesus. Twenty-eight years old and you’re still doing your homework.”
Lily grinned, leaning forward and giving him an eyeful of her cleavage. “Do you have a problem with that?”
“Hell no,” he said, expelling a breath on the words.
“You know, it’s a far cry from us being friends to us being willing participants of a mĆ©nage. What makes you think Justin and I would go for something like that?”
Justin narrowed his eyes at Killian’s comment.
“I was your friend in high school,” she said. “And I’ve never been an idiot. I heard the rumors, the whispers of the other girls in the locker room.”
Justin leaned back for a moment and considered her answer. She’d heard about them. All these years, she’d known about their penchant for sharing.
Killian’s hand moved from the back of her chair to her face. He cupped the back of her head, forcing her to look at him.
“Haven’t you ever heard that expression, ‘Be careful what you wish for’?”
She offered them both a cute, gentle smile, her face artlessly pleading. “It’s just one wish, K, one night. Please.”
“Damn. Power look,” Killian muttered and his hand dropped to his lap.
She paused, obviously confused, but Justin understood exactly what his friend was talking about. She’d taken him down with that look too and he was pretty sure neither one of them was going to refuse her a damn thing tonight.
“Do you even know what you’re asking for?” Killian added.
She narrowed her eyes, annoyed. “I’m not thick, Killian. I know what I want to happen tonight.”
Justin leaned even closer. “Tell us. Put it in words.”
She grinned at his challenge and he was blown away by the daring woman facing him down. “Sex. You, me, K. Bed optional. As many positions as we can squeeze into the night.”
Thursday, May 20, 2010
Authors After Dark: Registration is Still open!
Registration is STILL OPEN for the Authors After Dark Romance Unlimited weekend!
Join your master of ceremonies, Jacquelyn Frank, along with the AAD bloggers and a Slew of award winning best selling authors for a weekend of amazing reads, free books and goodies galore. The AAD RU is the ONLY convention our there designed FOR readers, BY authors to not break your bank and give you that oh so precious face time with some of your favorite and new favorite authors.
Registration is $140 and INCLUDES 5 MEALS! That's right! no paying extra for meals OR ALCOHOL! You read right, this year we are offering FREE ALCOHOL (Wine and mixed Drinks) courtesy of participating authors, groups and publishers through the entire event! Can't find that at ANY other convention!
What can you expect at this con? Panels designed for reader participation, mini events chock full of goodies and insider info, parties filled with gifts and free books and two evening events sure to keep you smiling! This year we will have a Games night with everything from Romance Pictionary to The Mystical Mavens gypsy tent where you can get free fortune telling! Our Masquerade Ball this year will be a Theme of Literary Characters, and you could win a 50$ gift Certificate to BN or Borders for best costume!
You can expect panels for all sorts of subjects in romance INCLUDING the ONLY GLBT track for panels in mainstream romance cons! Progressive? No, but we open our doors to all!
And BOOKS! This year you can expect TONS of book giveaways from Kensington, Ballentine, Dorchester, Tease Publishing, Changeling Press, MLR Press, and many more! The publishers are being very generous this year, you do not wanna miss out!
Other goodies? Door prizes from some of the best in the business including Jacquelyn Frank, Joey W Hill, Susan Sizemore and more! How about parties galore and tons of premium promo giveaways!?
And Did we mention the BOOK SIGNING? 3 hours on Saturday where you can get your favorite books signed and pick up others from some of your new favorites! And guess what? there's a Wine and Sign snack party going on during as well!
For those authors and aspiring authors attending, we haven't forgotten about you either! We have a few panels on writing craft, AND will be offering Editor appointments Friday and Saturday, from editors from such houses as Kensington, Ballentine, Tease Publishing, Phaze, MLR Press, Samhain and several others. This is the perfect event to get yourself in front of editors looking for YOU!
See something for everyone? And best of all it WONT BREAK YOUR BANK T ATTEND!
Now, the details:
When: Sept. 16-19 2010, Harmon Meadow Holiday Inn, Secaucus NJ
Registration: $140 includes 5 meals
Rooms: $109 a night, double occupancy
FREE shuttle to and from Newark Airport AND Secaucus Junction Train station
Attending Authors:
- Alexandra Ivy (Tentative)
- Bronwyn Greene
- Bianca D'Arc
- Elizabeth Darvill
- Jessica Andersen
- Kris Norris
- K.T. Pinto
- Larissa Ione (tentative)
- Mechele Armstrong
- Mia Watts
- Tilly Greene
*Spots still open for the Authors... but only until JUNE 28th 2010. Contact Stella Via the WEBSITE to be included on the author list!*
Editors attending:
- Alicia Condon, Kensington Books
- Kate Collins, Ballentine
- Tonya Nagle, Tease Publishing LLC
- Kat Lively, Phaze Books
- Kris Jacen, MLR Press
FULL LIST JULY 1st!
So what are you waiting for? Space is limited to 200 people this year (And if we hit that, then next year will be Bigger and longer!) so get your registration in today! To Register, simply visit our website: AAD Romance Unlimited and click on register. Any questions or if your a publisher that would like to work with us this year, contact Stella at blueflamesabove@yahoo.com
So what are you waiting for? Space is limited to 200 people this year (And if we hit that, then next year will be Bigger and longer!) so get your registration in today! To Register, simply visit our website: AAD Romance Unlimited and click on register. Any questions or if your a publisher that would like to work with us this year, contact Stella at blueflamesabove@yahoo.com
Wednesday, May 19, 2010
A View to Behold
A while ago as I headed to the train to go to my day job as usual it was still dark outside. Yet this time as I arrived at the end of my block I glanced up as I always did to look at the train another block away. But this time my breath paused as I took in the view before me. A full moon hung over the train tracks. A train was just pulling in under the this full moon. It was breathtaking.
I paused to take in the moon. That soft glow casting everything is a mystical looking light. It was surreal and wonderful. Not to mention inspiring. What is more romantic than a full moon bathing down on you?
I continued on my way to the train as the moon continued to shine. I had a spring in my step and the feeling it would be a great day. As the day wore on the feeling stayed with me. The day did turn out to be a wonderful one.
McKenna Jeffries
http://www.mckennajeffries.com/
Conquering Jazz - What’s a woman to do when she unwittingly makes a tantalizing proposition to her best friend?
Be brazen, bold and set some ground rules.Her offer. One night of carnal bliss. No emotionallowed.
His counter offer. A continued affair to fulfill all their sexual cravings.
His hidden agenda. Conquer to make sure their affair never ends.
Buy here at Liquid Silver Book.
I paused to take in the moon. That soft glow casting everything is a mystical looking light. It was surreal and wonderful. Not to mention inspiring. What is more romantic than a full moon bathing down on you?
I continued on my way to the train as the moon continued to shine. I had a spring in my step and the feeling it would be a great day. As the day wore on the feeling stayed with me. The day did turn out to be a wonderful one.
McKenna Jeffries
http://www.mckennajeffries.com/
Free Reads Site: http://www.satinnotes.com/
Conquering Jazz - What’s a woman to do when she unwittingly makes a tantalizing proposition to her best friend?Be brazen, bold and set some ground rules.Her offer. One night of carnal bliss. No emotionallowed.
His counter offer. A continued affair to fulfill all their sexual cravings.
His hidden agenda. Conquer to make sure their affair never ends.
Buy here at Liquid Silver Book.
Tuesday, May 18, 2010
YOU Decide The Future Of Romance
I attended Book Camp on Saturday (it was free and fabulous!). A big name literary agent (i.e. she doesn't represent genre fiction like romance or mysteries) led a session. She said that the number one question not-yet-published authors ask her is how they can increase their chances of getting published.
Her answer?
Read ten novels from debut authors every month.
She explained that publishers will buy more books from debut authors if more readers buy books by debut authors.
That night, I was talking with a reading buddy. She was complaining that the selection of western romances is small. My suggestion? She should support the genre she loves and buy every western romance she found.
You see… you and I decide the future of romance. The reason why there are so many vampire romances on bookstore shelves is because they're being bought, read, and enjoyed. Publishers buy what we buy. We're in charge. We're what some authors call 'the all-powerful reader.'
What if you don't have the budget for buying books? What if you borrow them from the library or friends? Can you still influence the future of romance?
Of course. All of us knows at least one person who buys books. (You know me. I buy a romance novel a day.) If you love a genre or a book or an author, then talk about how much you love it/them. Someone may listen. A book may be purchased. You may decide the future of romance.
Every month, Kimber Chin gives away her fave romance eBook read the month before. For more details, go to http://businessromance.com/ .
Monday, May 17, 2010
Pass it on
When I first started to get serious about writing, one of the things I had to do was learn my craft. I had all these ideas but there is a technique to crafting a good story. I had to learn POV, active versus passive, dialogue tags, etc. I had to learn how to take critiques that I wouldn't always like.
Let's face it, writing isn't for sissies. It's a hard business.
It's also a solitary business for the most part. The characters in my head don't count *cough* (though they think they do). We live in our own heads to write most of the time.
Not to be corny, but you have to have friends. Friends you can trust and work with. Friends who stick by you even if the word count gets sparse or the going gets tough.
I'm so very very lucky.
When I was first getting serious, a very generous woman by the name of Mary Stella gave of herself to me and several others. She helped craft make a bit more sense. She also, along with several others and I, formed a small group where we could share about writing. The group was/is literally a godsend. It remains a great place to share about the ups and downs of writing.
Several people from that group and I are critique partners. Thank goodness for them. Melissa, Maureen, Corinne, Cindy. They are awesome. They read and give great feedback. We share goal counts and again, the ups and downs of writing.
I'm not sure I'd be where I am, doing what I love, were it not for the help of Mary, Melissa, Maureen, Corinne, Cindy, Jenn, and Karen.
I know it wouldn't have been as much fun to get there.
One thing I have really tried to do lately is pass it on. I judge unpublished contests and try and give the best feedback I can. I became secretary to Passionate Ink, a chapter that has given me a lot of camaraderie.
I'd encourage you today to find that group that you can be you with. And also pass along your experience. Because you never know when it will hit home for someone.
Mechele Armstrong aka Lany of Melany Logen
http://www.mechelearmstrong.com
http://www.melanylogen.com
Let's face it, writing isn't for sissies. It's a hard business.
It's also a solitary business for the most part. The characters in my head don't count *cough* (though they think they do). We live in our own heads to write most of the time.
Not to be corny, but you have to have friends. Friends you can trust and work with. Friends who stick by you even if the word count gets sparse or the going gets tough.
I'm so very very lucky.
When I was first getting serious, a very generous woman by the name of Mary Stella gave of herself to me and several others. She helped craft make a bit more sense. She also, along with several others and I, formed a small group where we could share about writing. The group was/is literally a godsend. It remains a great place to share about the ups and downs of writing.
Several people from that group and I are critique partners. Thank goodness for them. Melissa, Maureen, Corinne, Cindy. They are awesome. They read and give great feedback. We share goal counts and again, the ups and downs of writing.
I'm not sure I'd be where I am, doing what I love, were it not for the help of Mary, Melissa, Maureen, Corinne, Cindy, Jenn, and Karen.
I know it wouldn't have been as much fun to get there.One thing I have really tried to do lately is pass it on. I judge unpublished contests and try and give the best feedback I can. I became secretary to Passionate Ink, a chapter that has given me a lot of camaraderie.
I'd encourage you today to find that group that you can be you with. And also pass along your experience. Because you never know when it will hit home for someone.
Mechele Armstrong aka Lany of Melany Logen
http://www.mechelearmstrong.com
http://www.melanylogen.com
Sunday, May 16, 2010
Join Lindsay Townsend, Judah Raine, and Jane Richardson Today at Somethin' 'Bout a Sunday
We have special guests in the house today at Somethin' 'bout a Sunday
Fellow Siren-Bookstrand authors join Somethin''Bout a Sunday Members and Moderators for a chat about romantic suspense. Join us today at Somethin''Bout a Sunday: http://groups.yahoo.com/group/RomanticSuspense_/ and find out more about Lindsay, Judah, and Jane while discovering why Somethin' 'Bout a Sunday is the fastest growing Yahoo group on the net!
We hope to see you there!
Destiny
www.destinyblaine.com
Friday, May 14, 2010
Pearls of Wisdom - Can We Talk?
Can we talk? I mean, can we talk about talking???One of the most important parts of your story is the dialogue. How do your characters speak? If you're writing a historical, they should sound very different from the characters in a contemporary novel. The shy English governess should not introduce herself by saying, "Hi there, Ed. My name's Jane." Teens need to sound like teens and old people need to sound like old people. Granny should not come into the house and say, "That new rap by Jay-Z is off the hook."
Besides making sure that your dialogue is appropriate for the time period, you need to give each character a distinctive voice. In real life, your friends all have different ways of speaking. Maybe Tom has a New England accent, maybe your son starts every sentence with "you know," maybe your neighbor tells incredibly pointless, long-winded stories about herself. Your characters need to do the same. Well, maybe they don't need to tell pointless, long-winded stories - but they do need to sound unique.
If you're getting a lot of negative comments about dialogue in your manuscripts, try going to Starbucks or Panera -- or any favorite cafe. Turn off your cell phone and your iPod and actually listen to the conversations around you. Maybe even write some of them down. The first thing you'll notice is that in real life, an awful lot of conversations are downright incoherent. So many interruptions, stutters and unfinished thoughts! How the heck do any of us ever know what the other is talking about? Well, facial expressions and hand gestures add a lot to those unfinished thoughts. So try to notice those too and jot some of them down as well.
Now you have a great excuse to eavesdrop in public places. You are not being a busybody, you're doing RESEARCH! And really, you are. Listening to other people's conversations will truly improve your writing.
The next time you're working on dialogue for your story, try to use some of the speech patterns you heard while you were sitting in that cafe. And include those gestures and facial expressions too, because they're an important part of conversation. When you're dialogue improves, your story will too. Readers will have a much easier time believing in the world you've created, if it sounds like the one in which they live.
Wednesday, May 12, 2010
Idea Spark – A Fro Affair
A few weeks ago I was on my way home when I passed this woman who was sporting a slamming Afro hairstyle. The woman’s fro was big, high and poufy. I think it was a wig but it was so good I couldn’t tell. She was also sporting the clothing to go with the fro. She looked fierce. People were turning and looking at her. Me included. People were complimenting her on her look. Like any good diva she said thank you graciously and kept strutting. As I watched the woman stepping looking cool and fierce my mind was racing.
Yep another idea was taking shape. As I walked home I thought of the Fro. The idea took shape for a book with a woman in a fierce fro and clothes to match.
A fro brought so much more than viewing pleasure. It brought an inspiration. I’ve mentioned before that there are inspirations for ideas all around you. Taking something that happens in the everyday life then using it create a concept and make it yours. The unexpected can lead to so much more.
Any little thing can give you an idea spark.
Taige Crenshaw
http://www.taigecrenshaw.com/
Wilde Seduction - What happens when a woman who doesn’t know how to relax meets a man whose lust for life will change her and make all her deepest desires come to life?
Buy here at Total-E-Bound.
Yep another idea was taking shape. As I walked home I thought of the Fro. The idea took shape for a book with a woman in a fierce fro and clothes to match.
A fro brought so much more than viewing pleasure. It brought an inspiration. I’ve mentioned before that there are inspirations for ideas all around you. Taking something that happens in the everyday life then using it create a concept and make it yours. The unexpected can lead to so much more.
Any little thing can give you an idea spark.
Taige Crenshaw
http://www.taigecrenshaw.com/
…increasing the sizzle factor
Chat Group: http://groups.yahoo.com/group/crenshawcafe
Free Reads Site: http://www.satinnotes.com/
Wilde Seduction - What happens when a woman who doesn’t know how to relax meets a man whose lust for life will change her and make all her deepest desires come to life?Buy here at Total-E-Bound.
Reviews...Love um, hate um, is there really such a thing as a bad review?
Book reviews—love them or hate them, they are part of a writing career. I confess as a reader, a truly bad book review might steer me away from a book just as a good book review might convince me to buy it.
Unfortunately, for authors, no one can guarantee a great review because most reviews are based on the reviewer’s personal reading tastes.
If you are a published author, then chances are you have gotten a review at one time or another. And if you've been around for any time at all, the odds are you've gotten a less than favorable review from someone.
As much as it pains me to say, I've received my fair share of them. I don't think it matters how seasoned you are or how much you prepare for them, they still sting.
Although the poll below is not a scientific poll, it is a quick snapshot of what some readers are thinking.
I got 100 responses from readers to the following questions.
Here’s my summary of the results:
Do you read book reviews? • 48% said yes
What do you look for in a book review? • 47% said the story description. • 22% said the rating analysis. • 12% said snappy writing. • 2% said the rating.
How influential are book reviews on your purchase of a book? • 44% said somewhat • 12% said hardly • 8% said not at all • 5% said very
If a book had the lowest rating possible, how likely would you be to buy it? • 28% said hardly likely • 25% said no effect • 12% said somewhat likely • 12% said not at all likely • 4% said very likely.
So, what are your thoughts on the subject? Do book reviews matter to you as a reader?
Al the best...
Mary Eason
www.maryeason.com
Shadow Games – Available now at Champagne Books
Tuesday, May 11, 2010
Sometimes a book just happens
Sometimes you can push and pull and tear your hair out and nohting comes out of your brain. Been there, done that. Too many times. But sometimes you get very, very lucky and a book just happens. That's the way it was with Target, Book One: The Protectors. I first wrote it five eyars ago, put it away and let it gel, but my hero, Quinn, kept disturbing my dreams. "Let me out," he said over and over again. "Tell my story and Kate's." So at five one morning, determined to shut him up, I crawsled out of bed, sat down at the computer, and the story, revised and primped and polished, just began to flow. It has all the things I lvoe: a nysterious alpha hero, a fesity heroine in jeopardy, a good suspenseful plot and reallygood love scenes. I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it.
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.
Buy the book at:
www.amazon.com
www.sonystyle.com
www.allromanceebooks.com
www.thewildrosepress.com
And please come and visit me
www.judithrochelle.com
www.twitter.com/storyscribe
www.myspace.com/judithdesiree
judithrochelle@judithrochelle.com
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.
Buy the book at:
www.amazon.com
www.sonystyle.com
www.allromanceebooks.com
www.thewildrosepress.com
And please come and visit me
www.judithrochelle.com
www.twitter.com/storyscribe
www.myspace.com/judithdesiree
judithrochelle@judithrochelle.com
Monday, May 10, 2010
Diaries and Blogs by Shelley Munro
Throughout the ages, people have recorded events about their daily lives in diaries. People such as Samuel Pepys and Ann Frank have given us glimpses of moments in history while others depicted more mundane events in their diaries. Hundreds of years later, the diaries make fascinating reading, especially for historians.
I kept a diary as a teenager. My younger brother and sister used to take great delight in searching it out to read. It was a sport for them. They’d repeat bits out loud during moments that would create the greatest amount of embarrassment for me. I’m sure some of you have had similar experiences. Younger brothers and sisters can be such pains!
These days most people choose to set up a blog rather than writing in a traditional diary. It’s possible to set blogs to private or public so they are excellent mediums for diaries. It’s easy to add photos and video content as well to add a personal touch. I have a blog and recount some of the things I do during my week, my travel and writing experiences and include other topics that interest me ranging from books to cooking and trivia. (www.shelleymunro.com/blog)
The heroine in my recent release The Bottom Line starts a blog about her research and experiences with spanking. It’s an anonymous blog that soon develops a big following. The last thing Maggie wants is for her workmates to find out she’s the author of the popular spanking blog, but secrets have a way of getting out and creating embarrassment. I’m a case in point with my diary.
Do you keep a diary? If so, do you have a journal or do you have an online blog? Which do you prefer?
Shelley Munro writes contemporary and paranormal romance for Samhain Publishing. To learn more about Shelley and her books visit her website at www.shelleymunro.com
I kept a diary as a teenager. My younger brother and sister used to take great delight in searching it out to read. It was a sport for them. They’d repeat bits out loud during moments that would create the greatest amount of embarrassment for me. I’m sure some of you have had similar experiences. Younger brothers and sisters can be such pains!
These days most people choose to set up a blog rather than writing in a traditional diary. It’s possible to set blogs to private or public so they are excellent mediums for diaries. It’s easy to add photos and video content as well to add a personal touch. I have a blog and recount some of the things I do during my week, my travel and writing experiences and include other topics that interest me ranging from books to cooking and trivia. (www.shelleymunro.com/blog)
The heroine in my recent release The Bottom Line starts a blog about her research and experiences with spanking. It’s an anonymous blog that soon develops a big following. The last thing Maggie wants is for her workmates to find out she’s the author of the popular spanking blog, but secrets have a way of getting out and creating embarrassment. I’m a case in point with my diary.
Do you keep a diary? If so, do you have a journal or do you have an online blog? Which do you prefer?
Shelley Munro writes contemporary and paranormal romance for Samhain Publishing. To learn more about Shelley and her books visit her website at www.shelleymunro.com
Friday, May 7, 2010
Romantic Times Convention
Forgive me if I ramble a bit today. I’m just back from the Romantic Times Convention and given I fly in from Australia for the convention, I’m pretty worn out by the time I arrive home again. I was going to do my normal thing and blog about it while I was over there, but I had computer issues and couldn’t access my blog. So the plan was that I write a blow-by-blow description of the highlights of RT. Like all good plans, it kind of got lost in the shuffle of unpacking and washing, getting caught up with my family. When I finally sat down at the computer, I realized my thoughts were more firmly focused on what I, as a writer, got out of going to RT.
I’ve had friends say to me, “Wow, you’ll have a ball. It’s like one big party.” Yes, I did have a ball. I thoroughly enjoyed myself. But it’s more than just a big party. It truly is a learning experience. For me, anyway. It’s greeting those friends I have made in the past. Meeting and making new friends. It’s catching up with my publishers and editors face to face. That one-on-one conversation means more than a year’s worth of internet contact. I adore fancy dress so the balls were a blast. Seeing all the imagination that went into the costumes. Marvelling at the courage it must have taken to wear some of them. Lol Sorry, I’m way more conservative. This body is not for public viewing, but I applaud the ones who can carry it off.
I always make a habit at the dinners to sit at a table that contains more readers than authors. I had a delightful lady sitting beside me at the Vampire ball. I introduced myself and she in turn did the same, starting off with “I’m just a reader.” Hey, hold on there! “Just a reader?” No way! That lady was one of the most important people at the convention. Without the readers, we, the authors, are nothing.
Now, don’t shoot me for that comment. This is my own personal view. I can pen as many words as I like, ship it off and get it published, but without readers, what have I gained? The pleasure of writing the story, yes. But if I can’t share it with the readers, some of the pleasure is lost for me. And that’s when I realized the most lasting thing I get from going to the Romantic Times Convention is the contact with the readers. It doesn’t matter at that point if they’ve read my stories or not, it’s the sheer joy and enthusiasm they exhibit at the idea of meeting and spending time with authors that touches my soul. It’s humbling. Those readers truly are the most important people at the conference.
I’ve had friends say to me, “Wow, you’ll have a ball. It’s like one big party.” Yes, I did have a ball. I thoroughly enjoyed myself. But it’s more than just a big party. It truly is a learning experience. For me, anyway. It’s greeting those friends I have made in the past. Meeting and making new friends. It’s catching up with my publishers and editors face to face. That one-on-one conversation means more than a year’s worth of internet contact. I adore fancy dress so the balls were a blast. Seeing all the imagination that went into the costumes. Marvelling at the courage it must have taken to wear some of them. Lol Sorry, I’m way more conservative. This body is not for public viewing, but I applaud the ones who can carry it off.
I always make a habit at the dinners to sit at a table that contains more readers than authors. I had a delightful lady sitting beside me at the Vampire ball. I introduced myself and she in turn did the same, starting off with “I’m just a reader.” Hey, hold on there! “Just a reader?” No way! That lady was one of the most important people at the convention. Without the readers, we, the authors, are nothing.
Now, don’t shoot me for that comment. This is my own personal view. I can pen as many words as I like, ship it off and get it published, but without readers, what have I gained? The pleasure of writing the story, yes. But if I can’t share it with the readers, some of the pleasure is lost for me. And that’s when I realized the most lasting thing I get from going to the Romantic Times Convention is the contact with the readers. It doesn’t matter at that point if they’ve read my stories or not, it’s the sheer joy and enthusiasm they exhibit at the idea of meeting and spending time with authors that touches my soul. It’s humbling. Those readers truly are the most important people at the conference.
Thursday, May 6, 2010
Definition of an alpha male
Rissa and I love alpha-heroes, at least our definition of one. An alpha, no matter his past, is a hero first. His sense of honor would permit nothing less. He exudes raw masculinity. He's loyal to a fault, stubborn as hell, and often has a confidence that borders on cocky. Once he is committed to a task he rises to every challenge and never fails to protect. Most importantly, his respect for the heroine - while at times grudgingly given - is steadfast. Men of few words, their strength - their attraction - lies in their actions. When their heart is won, when he finds the woman who stirs the emotions he thought he never would feel, he can't deny them. And he won't let anyone or anything destroy it. When they love they love completely. You know it's a love that will last an eternity, even death won't end it.
I just finished watching The Quiet Man. OMG dreamy sigh! When he was on screen with Maureen O’Hara, the chemistry they shared exploded. The feisty rebellious woman who gets under the skin of the hard headed stubborn man. With her, he showed his soft compassionate side that no one else was allowed to see but knew was there.
John Wayne, from what I know of his life and seen in his movie roles, epitomize our definition. See if you agree from a few quotes from movies and real life. Can you hear the definition?
“Courage is being scared to death but saddling up anyway”
“If you've got them by the balls- their hearts and minds will follow.”
“Talk low, talk slow and don't say too much.”
“A horse is a horse, it ain´t make a difference what color it is.”
“Healthy, lusty sex is wonderful”
“I stick to simple themes. Love. Hate. No nuances. I stay away from psychoanalyst's couch scenes. Couches are good for one thing.”
About His 3rd Wife Pilar:
I can tell you why I love her. I have a lust for her dignity. I look at her wonderfully classic face, and I see hidden in it a sense of humor that I love. I think of wonderful, exciting, decent things when I look at her . . .
His Father’s Advice:
I`ve always followed my father`s advice: he told me, first to always keep my word and, second, to never insult anybody unintentionally. If I insult you, you can be goddamn sure I intend to. And, third, he told me not to go around looking for trouble.
About Faith:
I`ve always had deep faith that there is a Supreme Being, there has to be. To me that`s just a normal thing to have that kind of faith. The fact that He`s let me stick me around a little longer, or She`s let me stick around a little longer, certainly goes great with me -- and I want to hang around as long as I`m healthy and not in anybody`s way.
What He Wanted On His Tombstone
"Feo, Fuerte y Formal", a Spanish epitaph Wayne described as meaning "ugly, strong and dignified".
Quote Of His They Put On His Tombstone:
“Tomorrow is the most important thing in life. Comes into us at midnight very clean. It's perfect when it arrives and it puts itself in our hands. It hopes we've learned something from yesterday.”
Wednesday, May 5, 2010
Freedom's Treasure - Historical Romance - Coming June 2010
By Janet Quinn
Freedom’s Treasure comes out in June. I am so excited. This is book number 13 and when I was writing it, it seemed like the never ending book. I talked a great deal about Sam’s story and Sam being stuck here and stuck there as I got sidetracked. Now Sam is going to be released.
I got the cover and I just looked at it for a moment and thought, “That’s not Sam.” No, it is Jubilee. She is the other half of the story and the one that leads Sam into trouble along the way. My boss looked at the cover with the same expression I had. I’ve always talked about Sam and not Jubilee. She is important to the story. Without her, there wouldn’t be a story.
I’m excited that the book is finally coming out. I have the edits, which I will finish this weekend. Then I will have to read the galley and it will be done.
My editor sent me the edits and said she really loved the book and I should write a third one with the same family. Those in
This is a sequel to The River’s Treasure where Sam first appeared. I am running a contest on my website to win The River’s Treasure and other prizes. www.janet-quinn.com Enter. In June there will be contest for Freedom’s Treasure where I will be giving away short stories about Sam and Jubilee. You can only win the stories.
Tuesday, May 4, 2010
Curiosity ~ Chronicles of an Earth-Bound Goddess
Pic from ~ http://thingpositive.com ~Curiosity, it’s always been a large part of my nature. Yeah, all those lifetimes as a Big Cat... lol... Still, I think I’ll make that far-fetched claim since I write shapeshifter romance and also pen in the subgenres of future, fantasy and paranormal. Yep, that claim could boost my mystique as an author... or bring the people in white coats to my door.
Wow, I’m feeling kinda silly today. Okay, then, what follows is the first chapter of a WIP that I would really like to continue writing because it’s a heck of a lot fun, though there is also a drama-serious side and there’s a suspenseful plot. Since I have several WIPs in the works, I’d like to know what you think ~ if you’d like to comment.
Or, if you’d like to say what kind of romance novels you’re most interested in reading, that would be great, too. I’m certain many of us authors want to know.
~~~~~~
WIP ~ Curses Were Strange Beasts
~ Chronicles of an Earth-Bound Goddess ~
CHAPTER ONE ~ Outcast
Curses were strange beasts of irony. Keziah quit flipping through the trendy fashion magazine and glanced at the dead man who lay face down on her bedroom floor.
“And another one bites the dust...and another one...and another one...hay, hay.” The song lyrics began as a sardonic whisper, but ended by her singing to the tune. Tossing the magazine on her cluttered nightstand, she imagined the corpse consuming a large fat dust bunny. After all, Keziah had only herself to amuse. “And another one bites the dust bunny...hay, hay.”
Swinging her legs to the edge of her depressingly average bed with get-it-at-a garage-sale white sheets, not so white now, yet rumply soft, she sang, “And another one... and another one... and another one bites the floor...”
Keziah stood, supple as Bast, her great, great aunt. She was naked except for her clan thumb ring and a gold ankle bracelet from Jupiter, a gift from the only man she’d ever loved, at least, during their engagement. That was many ages past now. She had no real idea why she wore the bracelet, other than some heart-crazed feminine sentiment. The man-god in question had left the galaxy, never to return.
A few strides away from the bathroom, she stepped over the four hour old corpse without breaking her lithe stride. Disposal had to be thought out, criminal investigation being what it was these days, the whole CSI obsession. Honest to Mt. Olympus, she didn’t like to kill human vermin just for the sake of killing. No, not for any ole reason or simply because they got in the way of her self-appointed mission. Still, what was a goddess girl to do when The Fates threw them at her like voodoo darts?
Flipping her waist-long, red-as-sin-and-blazes hair over her shoulder, Keziah sauntered inside the blatantly blue bathroom. The sink, the bathtub, the wall tiles, all blue. Not a delicate icy shade of blue or even a sunlit cerulean, no, Hera forbid. The muddy medium blue beat at her brain. Not utterly ugly, it was annoying to anyone with a particle’s worth of aesthetic sensibility.
Only her shower curtain swirled with turquoise ocean waves, a mermaid’s paradise. She whooshed it aside, turning on the shower. Despite the danger of being discovered by enemies, she’d tampered with the plumbing using her ‘magical’ powers. A girl had to have the right temperature and her preferred shower spray, especially when forced to live in cockroach happy land.
Keziah leisurely spun beneath the brisk pummeling of pure crystalline water, straight from the Elysian Field’s fount. Her conscience pricking at her, she mused on her latest victim. By some justice, the cheating bastard’s widow would get full insurance benefits instead of the nasty let’s-pull-the-kids-in-two divorce that had been raging.
Plus, she had it on good divine grape-vine authority, there was a better man waiting in the wings of the widow’s future. If not...well, she’d find a good man for her, then manipulate the two together as easily as any of Cupid’s little winged shooters. After all, her mother had been a lauded matchmaker when she’d resided on blue paradise Earth. She knew her mother would still be bringing couples together, wherever she made her home in the wide, wide world of galaxies.
Keziah hadn’t kept in contact. Since she’d become an Outcast. And worse the shame, a cursed Outcast.
~~~~~~
MAY ALL YOUR READING DREAMS COME TRUE
Savanna Kougar ~ Run on the Wild Side of Romance ~
~~~
Savanna Kougar is an ebook and print author with Siren-BookStrand, Liquid Silver Books and Aspen Mountain Press. She writes love stories because that’s her deepest heart. She writes in the futuristic/fantasy/paranormal subgenres because that’s her fiercest passion. You can find her at her personal blog ~ Kougar Kisses ~ and at the following blogs as a contributor.
SHAPESHIFTER SEDUCTIONS
HAPPILY EVER AFTER
LINDSAY’S ROMANTICS
Romance Writer’s Behaving Badly
TITLE MAGIC
Wow, I’m feeling kinda silly today. Okay, then, what follows is the first chapter of a WIP that I would really like to continue writing because it’s a heck of a lot fun, though there is also a drama-serious side and there’s a suspenseful plot. Since I have several WIPs in the works, I’d like to know what you think ~ if you’d like to comment.
Or, if you’d like to say what kind of romance novels you’re most interested in reading, that would be great, too. I’m certain many of us authors want to know.
~~~~~~
WIP ~ Curses Were Strange Beasts
~ Chronicles of an Earth-Bound Goddess ~
CHAPTER ONE ~ Outcast
Curses were strange beasts of irony. Keziah quit flipping through the trendy fashion magazine and glanced at the dead man who lay face down on her bedroom floor.
“And another one bites the dust...and another one...and another one...hay, hay.” The song lyrics began as a sardonic whisper, but ended by her singing to the tune. Tossing the magazine on her cluttered nightstand, she imagined the corpse consuming a large fat dust bunny. After all, Keziah had only herself to amuse. “And another one bites the dust bunny...hay, hay.”
Swinging her legs to the edge of her depressingly average bed with get-it-at-a garage-sale white sheets, not so white now, yet rumply soft, she sang, “And another one... and another one... and another one bites the floor...”
Keziah stood, supple as Bast, her great, great aunt. She was naked except for her clan thumb ring and a gold ankle bracelet from Jupiter, a gift from the only man she’d ever loved, at least, during their engagement. That was many ages past now. She had no real idea why she wore the bracelet, other than some heart-crazed feminine sentiment. The man-god in question had left the galaxy, never to return.
A few strides away from the bathroom, she stepped over the four hour old corpse without breaking her lithe stride. Disposal had to be thought out, criminal investigation being what it was these days, the whole CSI obsession. Honest to Mt. Olympus, she didn’t like to kill human vermin just for the sake of killing. No, not for any ole reason or simply because they got in the way of her self-appointed mission. Still, what was a goddess girl to do when The Fates threw them at her like voodoo darts?
Flipping her waist-long, red-as-sin-and-blazes hair over her shoulder, Keziah sauntered inside the blatantly blue bathroom. The sink, the bathtub, the wall tiles, all blue. Not a delicate icy shade of blue or even a sunlit cerulean, no, Hera forbid. The muddy medium blue beat at her brain. Not utterly ugly, it was annoying to anyone with a particle’s worth of aesthetic sensibility.
Only her shower curtain swirled with turquoise ocean waves, a mermaid’s paradise. She whooshed it aside, turning on the shower. Despite the danger of being discovered by enemies, she’d tampered with the plumbing using her ‘magical’ powers. A girl had to have the right temperature and her preferred shower spray, especially when forced to live in cockroach happy land.
Keziah leisurely spun beneath the brisk pummeling of pure crystalline water, straight from the Elysian Field’s fount. Her conscience pricking at her, she mused on her latest victim. By some justice, the cheating bastard’s widow would get full insurance benefits instead of the nasty let’s-pull-the-kids-in-two divorce that had been raging.
Plus, she had it on good divine grape-vine authority, there was a better man waiting in the wings of the widow’s future. If not...well, she’d find a good man for her, then manipulate the two together as easily as any of Cupid’s little winged shooters. After all, her mother had been a lauded matchmaker when she’d resided on blue paradise Earth. She knew her mother would still be bringing couples together, wherever she made her home in the wide, wide world of galaxies.
Keziah hadn’t kept in contact. Since she’d become an Outcast. And worse the shame, a cursed Outcast.
~~~~~~
MAY ALL YOUR READING DREAMS COME TRUE
Savanna Kougar ~ Run on the Wild Side of Romance ~
~~~
Savanna Kougar is an ebook and print author with Siren-BookStrand, Liquid Silver Books and Aspen Mountain Press. She writes love stories because that’s her deepest heart. She writes in the futuristic/fantasy/paranormal subgenres because that’s her fiercest passion. You can find her at her personal blog ~ Kougar Kisses ~ and at the following blogs as a contributor.
SHAPESHIFTER SEDUCTIONS
HAPPILY EVER AFTER
LINDSAY’S ROMANTICS
Romance Writer’s Behaving Badly
TITLE MAGIC
Monday, May 3, 2010
Enjoy the Reads! Jewel Adams
I hope you will find these excerpts as fun and exciting to read as I did writing them.
I currently have 13 novels available for sale at:
http://www.classactbooks.com/Jewel-Adams_bymfg_1-4-1.html
Excerpts are available for all my books, come on over and take a look.
Make sure to follow my blog for release dates.
http://jeweladams-romancewithatouchofspice.blogspot.com/
Have a great spring day!
Jewel Adams
I currently have 13 novels available for sale at:
http://www.classactbooks.com/Jewel-Adams_bymfg_1-4-1.html
Excerpts are available for all my books, come on over and take a look.
Make sure to follow my blog for release dates.
http://jeweladams-romancewithatouchofspice.blogspot.com/
Have a great spring day!
Jewel Adams
Undercover Love by Jewel Adams
Undercover Love has a little bit realism in it from my own experiences. I hope you will find Kate and Cash's story a wild and oh so sexy ride!
UNDERCOVER LOVE
By
Jewel Adams
Katie finally lands a job in what she believes is the safest place in San Diego. Serving nearly four-hundred police breakfast and lunch, would be the last place her ex could find her.
Cash Hayden is right up there in the danger line-up. When Cash pulls the fiery Kate into his undercover life, he wants the woman he finds—regardless of the risks.
Can Katie learn to trust once more? Will they survive the danger that comes with the man she is falling in love with?
CHAPTER 1
New Beginnings
“You take over the register Katie, while we go on break. Should just be coffee and desserts now that lunch is over.”
“All right Bea.” The register? Katie needed to fight down the nervous rise in her stomach. The second day and already she tackled everything from the grill to making pies and stuffing. Now this...
She must have done alright or Bea wouldn’t leave her alone. Katie liked the older lady. It was a relief to work with nice women for a change. Even the cops weren’t all that bad. Most joked with her, Katie figured it was their way of welcoming the new girl.
She served them all lunch, from the motorcycle cops, a tough looking group, to plain-clothes and vice. Even the chief of police came in for lunch after the rush. She felt the chief and the captain of vice looking her over from their table. She wondered if they would check her out, probably thought she was a pothead, even though she hated the stuff. No, Katie stayed away from anything that messed with her mind.
Checking on the coffee urns and stew cooking on the stove, she looked up when hearing the double glass doors opening. The men she watched enter the dining room gave her chills, making her search for the police that no longer filled the room. “Damn, where were they when you needed them.”
Seeing that the three men were heading her way, she tried to brush away the thought that they came to rob the place. After all this was the police station. They were the type of men any sane person would cross the street to avoid.
They started filling coffee mugs, Katie wasn’t sure what to do. She wished she could ignore the fact they didn’t belong, trouble was the last thing Katie wanted. She needed this job, but the dining room was off-limits to anyone but cops. She found it hard to meet the leader’s eyes, cold...no feeling in them. With a skull tattoo and shaggy salt and pepper hair that fell in long strands past his shoulders, he looked like he just parked his chopper. Arrogant too, which did little to boost Katie’s courage. “Mister, I think you’re in the wrong place, this is a policeman’s only dining room.”
The way he scanned the empty room before half smiling at his companions, told Katie he meant to cause trouble.
“You saying, I don’t belong?”
The challenge in his low voice stiffened Katie. “Yeah and I want to keep my job, so no offense, but take the coffee and go.” The guy acted like he went out of his way to attract trouble. Didn’t he realize where he stood?
“I’ll pay for the coffee, just go.” Katie’s eyes jumped when his hands set the cup down, she half expected the troopers to storm the place at any moment. “Look, I said I would take care of it, just go.” She regretted her nervous slip when he gave her a half smile.
“Couldn’t impose, besides this is the police station...right?”
Dense besides. No shit! Formed on her lips but thankfully remained silent.
“Could you hold this for me, sister.”
She glared back at him as he stretched out his hand, palm down to her.
Deciding it might be better not to refuse, if it helped get them out of here, Katie raised her hand under his. She got a sick feeling he could hurt her. Pain wasn’t unknown to her...her jaw tightened, refusing to let old fears rule.
It took a second before the true weight of what he released into her palm registered. Then as if time rushed forward, her gaze fell to the object and she automatically reacted to be rid of it. “Damn, you really are crazy!”
Everything seemed to go into slow motion as all three men moved to catch the gun twirling in the air above their heads. With an almost natural ease the man reached out and caught the gun before it ever began descending.
“You’re working in the wrong place to be afraid of guns, missy.”
Katie eyes fired at the raised hand holding the offensive thing, to the bright cool green eyes drilling their way through her. It wasn’t fear that held her frozen in place, staring back at him. “And you are a sadistic bastard...now, get out!” Too furious with him to raise her voice over the dead calm delivery that made him blink and his cohorts fidget.
Without even thinking about it, she moved her finger over the button under the counter. Bea showed her the alarm this morning. Never taking her eyes from his, her finger calmly pressed the small button setting off the silent alarm. Katie never expected to be doing something like this, at least not her second day at work and now probably her last.
Resigned to what would come, and unemployment once again, Katie felt the tension slip away. Hearing the sound of running feet, and holsters slapping thighs and hands, Katie’s gaze never faltered from the darkening awareness boring into her.
“You really should have left as I asked.” A blur of figures surrounded them, words were shouted and still they stood there as if isolated from the chaos surrounding them.
“Alright Hayden, what the f&^% is going on?”
The cursing man in uniform finally broke through to Katie. In a rush she took in the 20 or so officers pointing guns at the three men and her. “He has a gun.” It was all she could think to say.
She saw the officer in charge rolled his eyes at the ceiling. Katie always prided herself on not being slow on the uptake and understanding hit like a blast. Her eyes narrowed on the man responsible for this, “cops, that’s just great...you really are a world-class bastard!”
The label undercover raced through her mind and Katie knew, as the various guns were being holstered, that she’d been royally screwed by a pro.
Deciding it would be useless to defend the riot she caused, Katie slipped off her apron and placed it over Mr. Narc’s coffee. “I can’t say it wasn’t...interesting.” Spinning about, she took two steps and reached to get her purse. Shutting out everyone still milling around, her gaze only lingered on the confused and speechless, Bea. “Sorry Bea, I really liked working with you.”
Without a backward glance, Katie forced her feet to march past the gaping men and ranting Sergeant, deciding the job probably wasn’t the right choice to start with; anti-establishment in the midst of the main force didn’t make much sense.
Ignoring the sound of her name being called, Katie kept going, only drawing a deep breath when she reached daylight. Walking 20 or so city blocks sounded preferable to sitting in front of the station and waiting for a bus. “A frick’n cop, no Katie, narc through and through. He probably got his jollies off scaring the shit out of you!”
The anger finally simmered to the surface and her steps hasten to walk it off. She wanted to ignore the humiliation she suffered. “Damn him, I really like that job.” Katie refused to acknowledge the feeling of safety being there gave to her, a place where her ex would never venture to get her. For a brief moment she closed her eyes against the fear still living inside of her because of her ex-husband.
“Damn him!” She couldn’t say which man she cursed at the moment. They all fell into the anger and self-pity tearing at her.
Pulling the combs from her hair, she let her fingers raked out the coil of lush red hair, letting it fall and blow about her like the cloak. Katie chose to ignore everything around her, concentrating only on walking up the streets and into the throng of people.
* * * *
Cash picked up his pace, throwing off the thoughts of calling to her again. The little spitfire shut out the world back in the cafeteria. He’d seen pride before in men, but hers became almost tangible. He hadn’t been able to resist playing with her.
Katie, yeah that’s what Bea called her. Katie, Irish no doubt, with a temper that came like flash fire and was as hot as that sassy red hair swaying around her hips. She already proved to be a handful, tough too. Cash smiled, remembering how she stood up to him. He felt intrigued by her almost at once. Strange, he rarely let anyone touch him with their eyes. He liked what he saw, including those sashaying hips he couldn’t stop watching. He remembered her eyes, she wasn’t on anything, no, he knew that look in someone all too well. This girl’s were clean, so fresh, and in more ways than he liked to admit, ways that stirred his blood and sent his cock throbbing.
He wondered if that coolness she held would have remained in place if they’d been anywhere else. Hell, the gun might have been a bit much. He never should have done that. Yet, she never told the Sergeant what he did. Why didn’t she defend herself?
...
Cash and Kate certainly don't start out "nice" LOL, and let me tell you this story is one explosion after another.
Jewel Adams
UNDERCOVER LOVE
By
Jewel Adams
Katie finally lands a job in what she believes is the safest place in San Diego. Serving nearly four-hundred police breakfast and lunch, would be the last place her ex could find her.
Cash Hayden is right up there in the danger line-up. When Cash pulls the fiery Kate into his undercover life, he wants the woman he finds—regardless of the risks.
Can Katie learn to trust once more? Will they survive the danger that comes with the man she is falling in love with?
CHAPTER 1
New Beginnings
“You take over the register Katie, while we go on break. Should just be coffee and desserts now that lunch is over.”
“All right Bea.” The register? Katie needed to fight down the nervous rise in her stomach. The second day and already she tackled everything from the grill to making pies and stuffing. Now this...
She must have done alright or Bea wouldn’t leave her alone. Katie liked the older lady. It was a relief to work with nice women for a change. Even the cops weren’t all that bad. Most joked with her, Katie figured it was their way of welcoming the new girl.
She served them all lunch, from the motorcycle cops, a tough looking group, to plain-clothes and vice. Even the chief of police came in for lunch after the rush. She felt the chief and the captain of vice looking her over from their table. She wondered if they would check her out, probably thought she was a pothead, even though she hated the stuff. No, Katie stayed away from anything that messed with her mind.
Checking on the coffee urns and stew cooking on the stove, she looked up when hearing the double glass doors opening. The men she watched enter the dining room gave her chills, making her search for the police that no longer filled the room. “Damn, where were they when you needed them.”
Seeing that the three men were heading her way, she tried to brush away the thought that they came to rob the place. After all this was the police station. They were the type of men any sane person would cross the street to avoid.
They started filling coffee mugs, Katie wasn’t sure what to do. She wished she could ignore the fact they didn’t belong, trouble was the last thing Katie wanted. She needed this job, but the dining room was off-limits to anyone but cops. She found it hard to meet the leader’s eyes, cold...no feeling in them. With a skull tattoo and shaggy salt and pepper hair that fell in long strands past his shoulders, he looked like he just parked his chopper. Arrogant too, which did little to boost Katie’s courage. “Mister, I think you’re in the wrong place, this is a policeman’s only dining room.”
The way he scanned the empty room before half smiling at his companions, told Katie he meant to cause trouble.
“You saying, I don’t belong?”
The challenge in his low voice stiffened Katie. “Yeah and I want to keep my job, so no offense, but take the coffee and go.” The guy acted like he went out of his way to attract trouble. Didn’t he realize where he stood?
“I’ll pay for the coffee, just go.” Katie’s eyes jumped when his hands set the cup down, she half expected the troopers to storm the place at any moment. “Look, I said I would take care of it, just go.” She regretted her nervous slip when he gave her a half smile.
“Couldn’t impose, besides this is the police station...right?”
Dense besides. No shit! Formed on her lips but thankfully remained silent.
“Could you hold this for me, sister.”
She glared back at him as he stretched out his hand, palm down to her.
Deciding it might be better not to refuse, if it helped get them out of here, Katie raised her hand under his. She got a sick feeling he could hurt her. Pain wasn’t unknown to her...her jaw tightened, refusing to let old fears rule.
It took a second before the true weight of what he released into her palm registered. Then as if time rushed forward, her gaze fell to the object and she automatically reacted to be rid of it. “Damn, you really are crazy!”
Everything seemed to go into slow motion as all three men moved to catch the gun twirling in the air above their heads. With an almost natural ease the man reached out and caught the gun before it ever began descending.
“You’re working in the wrong place to be afraid of guns, missy.”
Katie eyes fired at the raised hand holding the offensive thing, to the bright cool green eyes drilling their way through her. It wasn’t fear that held her frozen in place, staring back at him. “And you are a sadistic bastard...now, get out!” Too furious with him to raise her voice over the dead calm delivery that made him blink and his cohorts fidget.
Without even thinking about it, she moved her finger over the button under the counter. Bea showed her the alarm this morning. Never taking her eyes from his, her finger calmly pressed the small button setting off the silent alarm. Katie never expected to be doing something like this, at least not her second day at work and now probably her last.
Resigned to what would come, and unemployment once again, Katie felt the tension slip away. Hearing the sound of running feet, and holsters slapping thighs and hands, Katie’s gaze never faltered from the darkening awareness boring into her.
“You really should have left as I asked.” A blur of figures surrounded them, words were shouted and still they stood there as if isolated from the chaos surrounding them.
“Alright Hayden, what the f&^% is going on?”
The cursing man in uniform finally broke through to Katie. In a rush she took in the 20 or so officers pointing guns at the three men and her. “He has a gun.” It was all she could think to say.
She saw the officer in charge rolled his eyes at the ceiling. Katie always prided herself on not being slow on the uptake and understanding hit like a blast. Her eyes narrowed on the man responsible for this, “cops, that’s just great...you really are a world-class bastard!”
The label undercover raced through her mind and Katie knew, as the various guns were being holstered, that she’d been royally screwed by a pro.
Deciding it would be useless to defend the riot she caused, Katie slipped off her apron and placed it over Mr. Narc’s coffee. “I can’t say it wasn’t...interesting.” Spinning about, she took two steps and reached to get her purse. Shutting out everyone still milling around, her gaze only lingered on the confused and speechless, Bea. “Sorry Bea, I really liked working with you.”
Without a backward glance, Katie forced her feet to march past the gaping men and ranting Sergeant, deciding the job probably wasn’t the right choice to start with; anti-establishment in the midst of the main force didn’t make much sense.
Ignoring the sound of her name being called, Katie kept going, only drawing a deep breath when she reached daylight. Walking 20 or so city blocks sounded preferable to sitting in front of the station and waiting for a bus. “A frick’n cop, no Katie, narc through and through. He probably got his jollies off scaring the shit out of you!”
The anger finally simmered to the surface and her steps hasten to walk it off. She wanted to ignore the humiliation she suffered. “Damn him, I really like that job.” Katie refused to acknowledge the feeling of safety being there gave to her, a place where her ex would never venture to get her. For a brief moment she closed her eyes against the fear still living inside of her because of her ex-husband.
“Damn him!” She couldn’t say which man she cursed at the moment. They all fell into the anger and self-pity tearing at her.
Pulling the combs from her hair, she let her fingers raked out the coil of lush red hair, letting it fall and blow about her like the cloak. Katie chose to ignore everything around her, concentrating only on walking up the streets and into the throng of people.
* * * *
Cash picked up his pace, throwing off the thoughts of calling to her again. The little spitfire shut out the world back in the cafeteria. He’d seen pride before in men, but hers became almost tangible. He hadn’t been able to resist playing with her.
Katie, yeah that’s what Bea called her. Katie, Irish no doubt, with a temper that came like flash fire and was as hot as that sassy red hair swaying around her hips. She already proved to be a handful, tough too. Cash smiled, remembering how she stood up to him. He felt intrigued by her almost at once. Strange, he rarely let anyone touch him with their eyes. He liked what he saw, including those sashaying hips he couldn’t stop watching. He remembered her eyes, she wasn’t on anything, no, he knew that look in someone all too well. This girl’s were clean, so fresh, and in more ways than he liked to admit, ways that stirred his blood and sent his cock throbbing.
He wondered if that coolness she held would have remained in place if they’d been anywhere else. Hell, the gun might have been a bit much. He never should have done that. Yet, she never told the Sergeant what he did. Why didn’t she defend herself?
...
Cash and Kate certainly don't start out "nice" LOL, and let me tell you this story is one explosion after another.
Jewel Adams
Afternoon Delights - Short story collection by Jewel Adams
As you can see Afternoon Delights holds a wide range of stories.
It was fun write and totally filled my days with one surprise after another lol. Sometimes you have to wonder where all these stories come from.
I hope you will fall in love with these true to life characters and enjoy their experiences in the Afternoon Delights.
Jewel Adams
Jewel Adams
Romance with a Touch of Spice
Look for new and spicy releases...
http://jeweladams-romancewithatouchofspice.blogspot.com/
It was fun write and totally filled my days with one surprise after another lol. Sometimes you have to wonder where all these stories come from.
I hope you will fall in love with these true to life characters and enjoy their experiences in the Afternoon Delights.
Jewel Adams
Jewel Adams
Romance with a Touch of Spice
Look for new and spicy releases...
http://jeweladams-romancewithatouchofspice.blogspot.com/
Afternoon Delights - Moonlight and Madness by Jewel Adams
AFternoon Delights - These short stories are a grand collection that will brighten your day.
MOONLIGHT AND MADNESS
By
Jewel Adams
“I’ve never been so embarrassed.” She pulled her heels off as she sunk down in the sand. The beach stretched out before her and she wished she could enjoy the beautiful moonlight on the water. “Oh, but that would be impossible!”
Why she even thought she would reach the hotel easier walking the beach, escaped her. “He is the one that should be out here, but no, he probably doesn’t even know I’m out here…alone, hurt and totally pissed off!”
“Oh, but the husband does know exactly where his ticked off wife may be.”
She refused to look at him, wishing he’d disappear as he caught up with her on the beach.
“I’m not going to do that.”
“What?” She bit her lip, regretting her curiosity.
“Leave you alone.”
She stopped dead in the sand, trying to stay upright. “Go away!”
He smiled as he looked her up and down. “No, sorry, can’t do that.”
“You…”
“Ahh, you don’t have to say it. I know what a creep I was in there.”
“Creep is mild, Jake.”
She shook off his hand on her arm, not wanting to talk with him. Somehow she never won any arguments with him. He always seemed to come out the winner, why was that?
“Why the hell do you stay married to me if you want to f$%^ the first w&^%$ that comes on to you at that party!”
His silence seemed to vibrate off the waves crashing against the sand. She walked off in front of him to the water’s edge, letting the water rush in and over her feet.
She could feel him behind her and wrapped her arms around herself.
“Susan, I’m sorry. I never realized that is how you saw it.”
The tears rolling down her face betrayed how deeply he did hurt her.
“How else could I take it? What would you think if some man crawled into my lap and started kissing me?”
“I’d kill him.”
The dead cold delivery of his answer is what finally made her turn and face him.
“That’s right, I’d kill any man that touched you, Susan.”
Her head shook against what he said and what his actions delivered. “Then why all the antics, Jake?”
His gaze dropped to the sand, where he dug his shoe toe in. She actually bent down to see what his expression might be, glad for the moonlight.
When he finally looked up, she held her breath for his answer.
“I wanted you to notice.”
“What?”
“I want you to see me again, Susan. I want you to think I’m attractive, wanted, anything to make you desire me again.”
“Wow…” Never in a hundred lives did she expect that answer. “What makes you think I don’t desire you?”
She could see him watching her, looking at her as if she’d disappear. “You don’t act like you care anymore.”
“Care! Holy shit, Jake, I nearly killed that bitch in there!”
He actually had the audacity to snicker. “Yeah, you did, felt damn good too.”
“Oh my, you really did do that on purpose.”
“Heck yes.”
...
Jake is pulling out all the stops to save his marriage, will it work?
Jewel
MOONLIGHT AND MADNESS
By
Jewel Adams
“I’ve never been so embarrassed.” She pulled her heels off as she sunk down in the sand. The beach stretched out before her and she wished she could enjoy the beautiful moonlight on the water. “Oh, but that would be impossible!”
Why she even thought she would reach the hotel easier walking the beach, escaped her. “He is the one that should be out here, but no, he probably doesn’t even know I’m out here…alone, hurt and totally pissed off!”
“Oh, but the husband does know exactly where his ticked off wife may be.”
She refused to look at him, wishing he’d disappear as he caught up with her on the beach.
“I’m not going to do that.”
“What?” She bit her lip, regretting her curiosity.
“Leave you alone.”
She stopped dead in the sand, trying to stay upright. “Go away!”
He smiled as he looked her up and down. “No, sorry, can’t do that.”
“You…”
“Ahh, you don’t have to say it. I know what a creep I was in there.”
“Creep is mild, Jake.”
She shook off his hand on her arm, not wanting to talk with him. Somehow she never won any arguments with him. He always seemed to come out the winner, why was that?
“Why the hell do you stay married to me if you want to f$%^ the first w&^%$ that comes on to you at that party!”
His silence seemed to vibrate off the waves crashing against the sand. She walked off in front of him to the water’s edge, letting the water rush in and over her feet.
She could feel him behind her and wrapped her arms around herself.
“Susan, I’m sorry. I never realized that is how you saw it.”
The tears rolling down her face betrayed how deeply he did hurt her.
“How else could I take it? What would you think if some man crawled into my lap and started kissing me?”
“I’d kill him.”
The dead cold delivery of his answer is what finally made her turn and face him.
“That’s right, I’d kill any man that touched you, Susan.”
Her head shook against what he said and what his actions delivered. “Then why all the antics, Jake?”
His gaze dropped to the sand, where he dug his shoe toe in. She actually bent down to see what his expression might be, glad for the moonlight.
When he finally looked up, she held her breath for his answer.
“I wanted you to notice.”
“What?”
“I want you to see me again, Susan. I want you to think I’m attractive, wanted, anything to make you desire me again.”
“Wow…” Never in a hundred lives did she expect that answer. “What makes you think I don’t desire you?”
She could see him watching her, looking at her as if she’d disappear. “You don’t act like you care anymore.”
“Care! Holy shit, Jake, I nearly killed that bitch in there!”
He actually had the audacity to snicker. “Yeah, you did, felt damn good too.”
“Oh my, you really did do that on purpose.”
“Heck yes.”
...
Jake is pulling out all the stops to save his marriage, will it work?
Jewel
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