An Eclectic Author

What’s in a Name?

2012-02-26T00:01:00.017-06:00

I clicked my way over to All Romance eBooks a few days ago, selected “author” and typed in “KC”. Time was that’s all I had to do to get to my book page because I was the only “KC” there. Now there are ten KC’s listed. I do so love feeling like a trendsetter, even if I’m not.

Romance writers are obsessed with names. It starts when we have to choose whether to write under our ‘real’ name or use a pseudonym. Then comes choosing names for our characters. The favorites are overused, and the more unique open us to ridicule. The phone book is a gold mine of names - close your eyes and point your finger. Just remember to pick several and mix and match so you don’t get an email from someone you forgot you knew wondering how you happened to use their name.

I gravitate toward mixing an unusual name with a “regular” name. In A Cat Named Hercules, I mixed Shiloh, which means “peace” in Hebrew, with Galen. In Taming Triton, it was Austin and Steve. Only later did it occur to me I’d used the names of two brothers I knew during my school days.

Naming characters is a lot of fun, and quite frequently I open a book and read the main character’s name and I wonder why I never thought of that?

On another note - April 1 kicks off the A to Z Blogging Challenge 2012. I met the challenge last year - twenty-six blogs in thirty days, one for each letter of the alphabet. I’ve had a year to prepare for the 2012 Challenge. I’m ready. Check it out at my blog, Between the Keys, every day in April. We start on Sunday, April 1, then skip the other four Sundays in the month to end up with Z on April 30.

I’ll close the month with a promo from my latest release, Eye of the Beholder. See you here at An Eclectic Author in May. Enjoy!

Eye of the Beholder

by KC Kendricks

ISBN:978-1-61124-243-0

Available from Amber Allure

BLURB

Some neighbors share more than others...

Andy Madison is city born and bred. Filling in for a friend at a coffee shop, Andy meets Ben Hardin and sparks fly. They spend a long, lazy Sunday afternoon together to get to know each other, and when they decide to let nature take its course, they go to Ben’s cozy apartment.

Ben’s taking his time becoming acclimated to his new life in the big city. He’s got a great job he loves, he’s making new friends, and his starter apartment has the most incredible views a young man could dream of. Ben’s discovered there’s more to admire than the arts, music and architecture. All he has to do is look out his window and across the narrow alley.

Andy thinks he’s seen it all living in the Big Apple, but what he spies through Ben’s window is something that can only be enjoyed by the eye of the beholder...

EXCERPT:

I'd chosen to sleep on the side of the bed beside the one and only window in the apartment. It might have made a different decision if the window faced east, but it didn't. I peered out through the streaky glass at the glow of the city lights and wondered if I'd someday make enough money to have a real view. The surprising, and scary, answer to that musing was I actually might. My employer recognized my talent.

I was just about to tuck my toes under the sheet when for no real reason a movement on the other side of the narrow alley drew my attention. I yawned as the lights in the apartment across the way and down a story went out. The lower half of the window rose about six to eight inches and a pair of male hands set a block to keep it from falling closed. The hands, now unseen, pushed the sheer curtains apart to allow what little breeze stirred this night entrance to his room. Naked, he flopped down on his bed, his back arched as he stretched his arms over his head.

Why I didn't crawl between the sheets and go to sleep will forever remain a mystery. I never aspired to be a peeping Tommy. I might watch a little gay porn now and again, but what poor deprived country boy hadn't resorted to the joys of the Internet to get by until they could find a real man? That didn't make me a pervert. Unlike a few of the tricks I'd had since arriving in lower Manhattan, I didn't even like to have sex in public places. But in the blink of an eye I became a voyeur.

KC Kendricks

Website * Blog * Twitter * Mailing list

Happy Birthday, Anson Mount!

2012-02-25T00:01:00.003-06:00

Anson Mount

February 25, 1973

Hell on Wheels: Cullen Bohannan

How did I miss noticing Anson Mount all these years! I'm either not watching the right programs (and I watch a lot of movies, series, and sitcoms) or Anson is rising in popularity since Hell on Wheels. Thank you AMC.

Anson is 39 years old today, and based on other photos I've seen of him, he's sexier than ever. I like men clean shaven, but occassionaly one comes along that I really, really like scruffy. Of course, maybe it's the fact the whiskers and gray make him more interesting, more mature for my taste.

Giving Up ALL My Writer Clubs...Should I?

2012-02-24T00:01:00.000-06:00

I belong to many romance writer groups / author clubs / chapter, etc. I understand the need to have participants--someone to be president, someone to handle the money, the newsletter, the website, etc. But I'm not one of those people. I have a busy, demanding life that doesn't allow me the time to participate, except for on some non timeconsuming level. I'm the silent member that pays her dues and utilizes very little of what these "clubs" offer.

So, the question is, "Should I be a member?"

In my mind, I would think they'd be all right with the monetary support I give. I know there are a lot more like me out there, just because of the emails pleading with members to run for office, vote, take a poll, judge a contest, etc. Yet, every time there are troubles in the volunteering department, I get their form letters, like all members do, that make it sound as if I'm not going to do anything, then I should pack my bags.

It leaves me to wonder, should I just walk away? It sure would cut down on all the emails I receive.

Valentine’s Day is over…

2012-02-23T00:01:00.045-06:00

…but it’s still February, and what better time to share how Valentine’s Day began in romantic Italy.

Legends abound over the origin of this special day. The majority agree that it was named after a Roman martyr who lived in the 4th century. San Valentino was believed to be born in the Umbrian town of Terni. I’m sure there are other Italian towns who have claimed his birthright at one time or another. But the many different reasons for setting aside February 14th dedicated to love are still debated. There were three priests named Valentino. But was the above mentioned the namesake?

One theory was, in ancient times Emperor Claudius II forbade his soldiers to marry. He believed women would be a distraction. Valentino (also said to be a bishop) encouraged the young to wed and even held secret ceremonies. For that bit of defiance, the priest was sent to prison and executed on February 14th. While awaiting his execution, it is said he fell in love with the daughter of a jailer, passing love notes between them, thus associating the day of his demise with love.

Another version of San Valentino says he was “renowned for his chastity.” If that was so, why then would a lovers’ holiday be named after him? One more version tells of Pope Paul II giving gifts to poor women. The 14th of February, 1465, was set aside for the first ceremony. By that time, Valentino’s sainthood had been celebrated for 1000 years.

Or had Valentino been executed because he refused to worship pagan gods? That’s just one more tale about the beginning of Valentine’s Day.

Through the Middle Ages, the 14th indicated courtships, betrothals and, ultimately, marriages. It was known as the Spring Festival in Italy, which dates back to ancient times. The day was for young people in love who would gather in gardens and listen to music and poetry. By medieval times, the tradition peaked and the custom waned for centuries.

I find this next story amusing. In Italy, an unmarried girl would awake on the morning of Saint Valentine’s Day, and the first man she sees will become her husband within a year. And if not that man, then any man who looked like him would do.

Il giorno della festa degli innamorati – a celebration for couples and lovers

Today, most Italians in Italy see this holiday as a U.S. import. However, in the Italian’s grand tradition, they celebrate with passion. Unfortunately, Valentine’s Day has become as commercialized in Italy as it is in the U.S. Chocolates, flowers, perfume, and jewelry keep cash registers ringing and many women happy. And skimpy lingerie is enough to get any man excited. No matter how you say I love you, the language of love is universal.

Here are a few phrases to learn for Valentine’s Day 2013, or throughout the remainder of this year.

l’amante = lover

i baci = kisses

il cioccolatini = chocolate (very important )

il diamante = diamond (now we’re talking)

i fiori = flowers (truly romantic)

il mio tesoro = my darling (literally: my treasure)

And a bonus:

Fa così caldo qui o e la tua presenza?

(Is it hot in here, or is it just you?)

That well-used pick-up line sounds so romantic in Italian. What do you think?

________________

Jannine Corti Petska

Website

Surrender to Honor

(Book 2, Italian medieval series)

by Jannine Corti Petska

Avaible from the Wild Rose Press

Prima Ranieri seeks retribution for her family's death and loss of home and land. Her plans go awry when the heir to the powerful Massaro family returns home. After only one glance, Prima's attraction to him undermines her furor toward those she blames for her plight.

After a fifteen year absence, Antonio Massaro returns to Palermo to find a war raging between his family and the evil Falcone. His refusal to accept his rightful position as the head of the Honored Society carries serious consequences. The welfare of the people of Palermo is at stake. But one look at the beautiful woman Prima has become costs him his heart. She's a deadly distraction...one that jeopardizes her life as well as his own.

Excerpt

Prima and Antonio are out for a pleasure ride and stop in an orchard. Prima sets Antonio straight on the matter of her marrying.

“Think you age is on your side?”

She bristled. “I am not yet beyond marriageable age, or hindered like an old hag. But do tell, why must I have a husband?”

“You need a man, Prima, for you are like a wild horse before it is captured and tamed.”

“Such an insult! I’ll not be compared to an animal. And neither must I be captured or tamed.” She jerked on Amica’s reins, startling the horse. Antonio held the leather lines, preventing the horse from bolting.

“You act as if you are the only person ever to lose family. This bitter revenge you carry will one day turn you into a mean and spiteful old woman. Give up your fight. Marry and have children.”

“And bring them into a world of greed and senseless killing? I’ll not birth a son who is expected to rule and dominate solely because he is a man. And I’ll not birth a daughter who will be forced to bend to a man’s will simply because she is a female. Marriage is not a path I favor. I want the freedom to choose how I ride a horse and to decide on the clothes I wear.”

“Those ideas will bode ill for you, Prima. You alone cannot change a society.”

“No, but I alone can choose my path in life; and no man will ever take that away from me.”

Wednesday's Words, by Morgan Asbury

2012-02-22T00:02:00.009-06:00

Life has returned to normal in the Ashbury household. Well, as normal as we ever get, at any rate. My beloved is back at work, the cat has forgiven me for leaving her with my daughter, the evil diet-meister, and the dog is once more content in the daily presence of his deity, the daddy of the house.

This week, I have a few more days to myself before routine returns full force with my grandchildren sleeping over a few times a week, and my getting them up and ready for school in the morning.

They're good kids, and not difficult to manage at all. They seem, for the most part, a lot more amenable than my own children ever were. For the record, I think their mother—our `second daughter' who was our late son's former fiancée—has done an excellent job in raising them.

As I reported to you at the beginning of the year, I never make New Year's resolutions, per se. I do, however, constantly seek to "do a better job" of everything in my life. And nowhere is that a more pressing need than in the area of time management.

I have to try and learn how to make better use of my time. But the older I get, the faster time seems to go. I try, I really do, but more often than not I'm left at the end of the day wondering if I'd been abducted by aliens, who then went ahead and sucked two or three hours of precious time out of my schedule, and my conscious mind.

I think in many ways, I defy definition. In some areas and about some things I am so anal that my family is left shaking their heads in my wake. In case you ever wondered, let me set the record straight right here and now. Yes, there really is only one way to: fold towels, put away clothing, make the bed, set the table, make out a grocery list, prepare juice from frozen concentrate, and vacuum the living room carpet.
But about other things? Holy chaos, Batman, you should see my office! You'd think I had never heard of the word, `organization'. I have all manner of pieces of whatever under my monitor, around my keyboard, and beside and on top of my printer. My desk drawers would give pause to the most dedicated tidier, and my shoes and slippers can be found all over the darned house.

One of the areas where I am very `sanguine' is in my (nearly non-existent) time management skills. It's an effort for me to stay on track each day, to keep my mind focused on what I want to accomplish, because at times I can be so very easily distracted.

I know that I'd be better served if I got myself one of those nifty little word processor machines my good friend Lara Santiago has. That way, I could write without easy access to the Internet, and all those wonderful and fun time-sucking ways of being distracted.

Alas, I'm weak.

I know the secret for me lies in my own ability to employ some good, old fashioned self-discipline. And as each day dawns, I fully intend to do just that.

Some days, I do a pretty good job of it, too.

And then we have the other five days of the week.

Just today, as I was composing this essay, I had a bizarre thought. Do you suppose I could be looking at this situation all wrong? Could it be that this fluctuating, nose-to-the-grindstone one day and devil-may-care frittering away of minutes the next might actually, when the two are melded together, simply be my process? We all know that each writer's process is unique unto them. Could that possibly be it?

Sigh. No, I didn't really think so, either. I guess I'm just going to have to try harder.
Love,

Morgan

The only dream I've ever had was to be a published author. It was a dream formed in childhood, and held on to through the business of growing up. Life intruded, as life does, and my dream was put on hold. But now, through hard work, faith, and luck dream has evolved into reality.

Romance is a wonderful genre that accommodates every other. Comedy, mystery, paranormal, suspense, or science fiction, romance embraces them all. Erotic romance gives all of that, and so much more.

For readers who want all the best traditional romance has to offer – great characters, compelling stories and a happy ending – and who crave that extra bit of heat – I invite you to read one of my novels and let me know what you think!

Love Under Two Navy Seals

by Cara Covington

Available from Bookstrand

Julia Benedict fled New York City for her home of Lusty, Texas, after one unforgettable night making love under two navy SEALs. She’s fallen for them, hard. But Dev and Drew are the wrong type of men! They’re more Alpha than all the men of her family combined, and if there’s one thing Julia doesn’t want, it’s a pair of husbands who will boss her around just as her brothers have always done.

As Dev and Drew set out to court her, Julia begins to understand there’s a world of difference between bossy brothers and strong, caring lovers. But a case of mistaken identity finds Julia kidnapped. Her lovers must find her before she’s turned over to Miguel Ramos.

With Julia back home safely, the SEALs know their enemy will strike again. But as the men of Lusty gather to entrap the villain, it is the women who take the biggest stand—and the biggest risk.

The Bodyguard, the Writer and her Vampires

2012-02-21T00:01:00.049-06:00

I was recently asked what was the most memorable date I was ever on and to describe what happened. Without skipping a beat, here is what I said:

The first date that comes to mind was with a rather interesting man I met years ago. Not a man that you could really look at having a serious relationship with (as you will soon find out why), but certainly an experience you didn’t want to pass on. His life could play out in the movies!

Sirhc was the bodyguard of a sultan that visited Hawaii on a regular basis. He was always planted at his employer’s side, constantly jetting off to somewhere exotic or remote. Most times, he left without notice. In addition to his chiseled features, mesmerizing accent and a body that made you mentally remind yourself not to drool; Sirhc had a small aircraft pilot license.

The first official date we went on was for lunch. I met Sirhc at a restaurant and prepared for a nice meal with amazing company. I just imagined the stories he could tell me— the adventures and sights he had experienced.

As I stepped out of my car, he asked me to hop into his employer’s car service--a limo. He explained that we were going somewhere else for lunch. I jumped right in without hesitation.

The car drove directly to the Honolulu International Airport. Within minutes, I boarded a Cessna piloted by Sirhc. He flew us to Kauai and we had lunch at a secluded resort. After our meal, he arranged for us to have wine and chocolates on a section of the resort’s private beach to watch the sunset.

As I had time to reflect on what I had revealed without taking a moment to consider all of the romantic dates I have been on, it dawned on me. I recalled the date with the one man that has always remained a bit of a mystery to me. His life was fantasy-laced and I was along for the journey, relishing in the thrill and excitement of his life. For a moment, I felt like I was floating through a dream. It’s no wonder that I pursued writing romance novels, letting the lingering effects of that experience burn bright in my stories. And while Sirhc was not a vampire, he did have that mystic, secrecy and larger-than-life flair about him that I seem to project in all of my vampire characters.

Thank you Sirhc.

My series, Ambrose Heights Vampires, follows the Matthew’s lair based in Manitou Springs, Colorado. If you ever wanted to get lost in a fantasy-laced story with some luscious fanged creatures, this series is for you.

Available in eBook and paperback is Flesh Fantasy, the first installment of the series. Recently released in eBook and due in paperback in May 2012 is Veil of Seduction, the second installment in the series.

A newborn vampire. A powerful leader. An inconsolable woman. The shaping of their eternity all lies within the eyes.

Steffan Matthews is the devastatingly handsome vampire leader of Ambrose Heights. He cultivates social order and invents concoctions that allow vampires to feel human once again.

But Steffan also has a devouring obsession that brings him to his knees. Her name is Anya. Steffan sets out to claim Anya, a mortal ripe for the taking, as his mate. But the blackness in the eyes of his newborn should’ve served as a warning. Anya is off-limits according to the vampire creed.

It will take the strength of the kinship, the purity of love, a hint of magic, and a subterranean guardian to shield Steffan against the wrath of Ryan Evans, protect him from the fate of the Nemesis, and bridge a passage to his rightful destiny.

A Siren Erotic Romance

EXCERPT

“Anya, I want to make love to you, claim you.”

“Make love to me, Steffan. Claim me. I’m yours.”

Steffan’s breath was deep and heavy as he prepared for the moment.

“Don’t take your eyes off of me.” Steffan slid himself through Anya’s moistened folds, slowly filling her. He stretched her wide as she wrapped around his cock like a glove.

“Steffan, oh my god!” Anya screamed with a hint of discomfort in her voice. “It hurts. I don’t know if I can do this!”

“Relax. Let your body form around me. I’ll go as slow as you want or as hard as you want. You tell me what you need. I want you to only feel pleasure,” Steffan whispered and slowed his entry.

He was absolutely careful with Anya. His innate instinct wanted him to take her wildly, but he reminded himself that she was still human, still frail. She could shatter in pieces underneath him with one move. Once the claiming was executed and Anya was transformed, they could be together in a primal, untamed escapade.

With each gentle pulse, Steffan felt Anya relax. Carefully, he inched himself deeper into her until he was buried completely. He slowly retracted and pumped into her again, feeling her body accepting his entry with every delicious plunge.

“You feel so good. Give me more,” Anya said in a throaty and seductive tone.

Steffan’s heart was filled with bliss. Her heart accepted him, and now her body accepted his entry, his permanence in her very core. He thrust into Anya with a deeper need as their eyes remained fixed on each other.

“Let me love you, Anya. Let me give you everything I have in me. Accept me as your mate. Give yourself freely as mine.”

“I do and I have.”

A blistering heat traveled along Steffan’s jaw and filled his mouth with an insatiable need for blood. His sharp teeth broke through their protective membrane and descended as his body continued exploring her depths.

“Steffan, harder. I want it harder,” Anya said as she pulled Steffan in close to whisper in his ear.

“You want it hard, my love?”

“Yes.”

“You will feel pleasure you’ve never experienced before, but you must promise to let me know if I hurt you.”

“Promise.”

“Remember that I love you, and do not be afraid.”

“Afraid of what?”

“This.”

_______________________________________________________________________

And in keeping with the fantasy I like to brew and live out, I bring my vampires to life in the book trailer. Enjoy the eye candy and don’t forget to turn up the music!

Start the journey with a Free Read of Veil of Seduction.

And complete the journey by picking up your copy of Veil of Seduction.

Maya Deleina

Website ~ Facebook

How Many Friends Do You Have?

2012-02-20T00:01:00.000-06:00

Friends come in various assortments. Maybe they're lifelong, maybe they're temporary. Are yours related to you or someone you met?

I saw an article about friends and found myself thinking about the ones I've had and have. As a writer, I'm naturally reclusive. I seldom leave home or go outside. Of course, I'm self-employed, so this makes for an easy option not to open my door. My dress up clothes are usually clean sweats and a t-shirt without stains.

So, who are my friends?

My adult son can be said to be number one. It's just us in my house. If I go shopping when he's not at work, he goes along (how else can he get mom to pay for his "stuff').

My other friends don't spread far from the family roots. I spend a lot of time with my brother and his wife. He's my handyman when I need one and she's my shopping buddy when I have the urge to talk while I shop.

And the others... None. I hang with my father, not often as our busy schedules are never insync.

Then I have my online acquaintences for chatter and a few special ones I wished lived closer, but glad they don't or I'd never get any writing done.

So, are friends necessary? I guess that depends on how well you're content with your own company.

NEWS FLASH! Geese Employ Day Care and Crossing Guards!

2012-02-18T00:01:00.036-06:00

Turns out there’s more to geese than the prodigious production of green, slimy poop. Who knew?

The road that leads to my house passes near a small pond with farm land across from it. Living on that pond is a fairly large gaggle of geese. What I’ve discovered is that, like their cousins the chickens, geese apparently feel the need to cross the road to get to the other side. I’ve been told the reason they venture away from their ponds is that geese need to eat rocks for digestion, but I’m thinking that’s just a nasty rumor, engaged by goose haters to besmirch goosely intelligence.

Whatever, whether you like geese or not, I can assure you, they are far from stupid. I mean, despite the fact that they spend an inordinate amount of time crossing asphalt, when was the last time you saw a goose splatted on the road?. You can’t remember can you? That’s because they rarely are. Like small, feathered OSHA-ites, they build safety into their environment. They make use of crossing guards to keep themselves safe during their travels.

I. Do. Not. Lie.

I was coming home one day and was stopped by a line of geese crossing the road in front of me. I waited patiently for them to cross, smiling at their general goofiness.

That’s when I first noticed the crossing guard goose.

A single goose stood at the center of the line, pacing back and forth as the other geese crossed. As the line neared its end, the guard goose flapped its wings and did a cocky, self important strut off the road, staying pretty much even with the last three geese in the line.

Like a school crossing guard.

I tucked this amazing phenomenon away with the other tidbits I knew about geese: that they fly in a vee formation to increase speed and limit wind resistance, switching the on-point spot frequently to rest the wings of the lead bird; and that they utilize day care to ensure their mush-brained youngsters don’t wander away and get splatted; thereby completely blowing my entire example to prove how smart geese are.

I appreciate that.

No really, goose day care does exist. I saw it with my own eyes.

One day, when the winged rock connoisseurs were again across the road in their favorite field, apparently eating rocks, though I continue to harbor doubt on that issue. I cast my gaze over the gaggle, looking for the tiny goslings I’d seen a couple of weeks earlier.

They weren’t so tiny anymore.

I found them a little ways away from the adults, looking suitably mush brained. One adult goose stood with them, at the front of the group, as if presenting the daily lesson at goose school.

This was the day care goose.

One would presume, though I don’t know for sure, that, as they do in vee formation, the day care goose is swapped out periodically, lest the unfortunate creature fling itself onto a large platter with stuffing and prunes in a desperate attempt to escape dunderhead duty.

There. I’ve done my job. Go forth and look brilliant. You are now armed with not one but two fascinating tidbits that probably nobody else knows. You’re welcome. I’m always pleased to share my vast knowledge of things that don’t matter a whit in the general scheme.

It’s pretty much how I roll!

Happy Reading, everybody!

Sam

Magic, Adventure, Love on the Run

Dire Wolves Foxed

by Sam Cheever

Available from Changling Press

Sinopa Breckenridge is restless. Something is bubbling just under her skin, making her shiver and sweat at the same time. So she runs to Last Chance, Alaska to deal with it in private. But she doesn't count on Crevan Dakota. His very presence ruins any chance she has of taming the beast clawing for release under her skin. In fact, being with him is about to set the beast free.

To make things worse, shifters have been disappearing from Last Chance, and a killer is stalking Sin. When the situation starts to heat up, it's gonna take every resource the two of them can muster to keep Sin alive!

Excerpt:

She closed her eyes, dropped her head back, and sighed with pleasure.

The scent of the ocean brought memories flooding back. Memories she’d thought were long forgotten. Memories from a much simpler time.

“Penny for your thoughts?”

Sin’s eyes flew open and she turned toward the deep, slightly raspy voice.

The owner of the voice leaned against the railing a few feet away, his golden eyes sparking with good humor.

“What?”

He cocked his dark head, his grin widening. “You had the most beautiful smile on your face.”

Embarrassment brought heat to Sin’s face. “Oh. Yes. I was remembering my visits to Last Chance as a child.”

The gold eyes widened. “You lived here when you were young?”

She frowned. “How do you know I don’t live here now?”

He stood up and closed the distance between them, his stride long and loose. “Because I live here and I’m sure I would have noticed you before this.” He extended a large hand. “Name’s Crevan…Dakota.”

She clasped the offered hand and felt its extreme heat, the calluses on the long fingers. “I’m Sin…” When his eyes widened she laughed. “Sorry, Sinopa Breckenridge.”

“Ah. Audra.”

She blinked at him for a beat before realizing what he meant. “You knew my Granna?”

“I did, casually. She died a couple of years back didn’t she?” Something about the way the sexy gold gaze held hers told her he knew exactly when her granna had died. She got the impression not much escaped Crevan Dakota’s notice.

Sin nodded, noting the slight tightening of his jaw. Maybe he knew what had happened that night.

“My brothers and I used to play down by the creek. The area in front of her cabin had the widest beach, with the cleanest sand.”

Warmth slid through her at the memory. “It did, didn’t it? I remember that.”

“Some of the others who lived out there wouldn’t let us play in front of their properties, but Miss Audra never minded. In fact she used to bring us lemonade and cookies.” She watched pleasure slide through his sexy gold gaze at the memory.

“I always loved my time in that cabin.”

“So you’re moving back?”

The question shocked her. She wasn’t sure why. It shouldn’t have. “For a while, yes.” She guessed she was having trouble committing to the idea.

A bell started to jangle above their heads and she realized they were close to land.

Crevan’s gaze slipped over her again and grew speculative. She couldn’t shake the sense that he was seeing more than she wanted him to. After an uncomfortable moment he extended his hand again, this time engulfing hers in both of his. “Welcome back to Last Chance, Sin. Despite the name, it’s really a beginning rather than an ending.”

Her cheeks felt tight when she returned his smile.

“Mr. Dakota? We’ll be docking in a few minutes.”

Crevan turned to the man standing just inside the cabin door. The ferry boat captain was small and wiry, with bulging muscles and a weather reddened face.

“Thanks Steve.”

The captain inclined his head at Sin, giving her a look that made her shudder. “Ma’am.”

She glanced away, uncomfortable under his scrutiny.

Crevan lifted her hand and placed a kiss on the back of it. Just a tender touch of warm lips that made the skin beneath his soft lips tingle and warm. “I’m sure I’ll be seeing you around.”

She barely managed a nod as he turned away and sauntered toward the cabin. His stride was easy and sure despite the jerk and roll of a docking boat beneath his feet.

And as she watched those long legs, tight round buttocks, and broad shoulders disappear inside the cabin, the beast under her skin rose up and snapped its teeth, demanding release.

Sin groaned and swiped a hand over her clammy brow. She hoped she hadn’t made a huge mistake coming to Last Chance.

She strongly suspected that she might have.

_____________

Sam Cheever

Website ~ Blog ~ Twitter ~ Facebook ~ Goodreads ~ MySpace

The 10 Deadly Sins of Website Design

2012-02-17T00:01:00.000-06:00

A Checklist to Help You Avoid Them

So, you're ready to create your very own author site, or maybe you're updating your old one. We all know there's a lot that can go wrong with a website (server gone down?) but there's also a lot you can do in the early stages to avoid some mishaps down the road. Here's a checklist that you can take with you as you work through the design elements of your website:

1. Cluttered: Let's just start there. A cluttered site is the kiss of death to conversion. Make sure the site you choose is clean, uncluttered and easy to navigate. If you can't figure it out, I guarantee you your visitor won't, either.

2. Confusing: Tell them what you want them to do. Several times. In order to make a sale, you have to tell your visitor what you want them to do - over and over and over. When we were redesigning our website, http://www.amarketingexpert.com, I kept hearing this from my web designer: let's tell them again and again what we want them to do. I responded to her, "But my visitors aren't stupid, they'll know what to do!" The problem is most surfers don't. We're busy, we're distracted, we want information and we want it now, also we want to know right away if we've landed on a site that can help us. If you repeat your primary message, they won't be able to miss it, and if the site is what they're looking for, they will stay. Which takes me to:

3. Too many messages: You must have one primary message and objective for your website. Yes, I know you want to do so much with it. You want to sell books and get speaking engagements and maybe even some consulting gigs. But all of this starts with one, clear objective. Take my site, for example. I have books, I am a speaker, I also sell marketing services and we are a full-service marketing and publicity firm. Wow, that's a lot, right? Yes, it is, but if you look at our homepage you don't see my books or my speaking. Why? Well, as much as I'd love to sell my books by the truckload, and speaking gigs are always fun to do, they don't keep the business going the way new business does. That's my primary objective.

4. Not knowing what your consumer wants: Once you figure out what you are selling, now you have to package it in a way that will entice your buyer. Knowing what they want and how they want it is key. Let's say you've written a cookbook for busy parents. And let's say your only objective is to sell books. That's a great goal! Now, your site needs to be designed around that goal. That means the book is front and center on the homepage, and because your user is probably busier than most, there's a big 'buy now' button just under the book that takes them to a page where they can purchase and download an eBook or order a print copy. Easy! You may also want to add a sign-up on the homepage so your readers can get cooking ideas, recipes and tips in their inbox a couple of times a month!

5. Cropsharing: This is what I call those folks who use other people's website domains. I seem to recall years ago there was something called Angelfire. Anyone could get a free site there. You could never own it, or upgrade, it was on their server and that was that. The problem is when their site goes away, so does yours. There are a lot of freebie websites out there, there's nothing wrong with this per se (other than I don't think we should design our own sites), and if you're strapped for cash this is a great, initial way to get started. But be sure that you can own the site at some point. Often free sites have an upgrade option, look into it before you build your website!

6. Copying your competition: It's great to love what your competition is doing, but don't copy them pixel for pixel. Not only is it not a nice thing to do, but consumers landing on both sites may not be able to tell the difference! Additionally, if Google spots this type of duplication, you could get your site pulled down.

7. Uh-oh, typo: Please spell check your website. Really. I don't understand why anyone would launch a site that wasn't spellchecked.

8. Staying static: No one likes a site that never changes, and a quick and easy way to make sure you don't have a static site is to add a blog to it. A blog is a fantastic way to keep your site looking fresh and it's great for SEO, too.

9. Not understanding your traffic: OK, I admit this has less to do with website design, but it all flows into the same pot. Get to know your stats, and if you aren't sure how to read your site analytics, get someone to help you. Many authors I speak to don't even know if they have traffic reports. To me, that's sort of like having access to a bank account you never check!

10. Nowhere to go: Regardless of how you will sell your book, you want to be sure that the sales process is super clear on the site. Additionally, you don't want your consumer to go through a lot of steps to buy your book; with each step you lose a sale so keep that in mind. Ideally, no more than three steps to a buy!

When you're going through your website - either building one, redoing one or making sure yours is in check, take note of the points I've shared here. It's hard enough getting people to come to your site; when they get there don't send them into "surf shock" and miss a potential sale.

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Reprinted from "The Book Marketing Expert newsletter," a free ezine offering book promotion and publicity tips and techniques. http://www.amarketingexpert.com

Forbidden Love? Not anymore!

2012-02-16T00:01:00.032-06:00

Hi everyone!

Jaxx Steele here again to wish you all a Happy Valentine’s Day. I for one like Valentine’s Day. I have heard many reasons on how the holiday came to be. Some say the day is a conspiracy made by the candy company to suck money out of people. Others say its conception came from honoring a gruesome massacre that happened somewhere. I think that’s kind of creepy that you would buy gifts for your loved ones to remember a day where so many were killed, but *shrugs* to each his own, right?

Anyway, I don’t care where the idea came from. I like to think some extremely busy guy was slacking on putting in the time needed to keep his lover happy came up with a special day he could put on his calendar and have his secretary remind him to go big with the gifts. LOL Either way I love it.

I love it so much that I wrote A Year-long Valentine (inside Reflections of Love anthology available at Dreamspinners Press), Vegas Valentine (available at Muse it Hot) and Claiming Cupid. That’s the I’ll be focusing on today.

Claiming Cupid is a story is about that forbidden love. You know the ones that are on the off limits list. The best friend, best friend’s sister, your play cousin, brother in all but blood, yeah, all of those people. They’re too close to being family, right? Well, unfortunately you can’t tell the heart what to do. Even if you tried it’s going to do what it wants to do anyway.

Daniel and Max are best friends. Max is the lead singer in a band, a virtual rising star with all the groupies and drama that goes with it. Daniel is sick of hearing about the many episodes with the fly by night lovers, groupie sex and one night stands Max has had. After each one Max comes to him drunk and confusion expressing what he really wants and how hard it is to find it. As Valentine’s Day approaches, Daniel comes up with plan to shake some sense into Max.

I wrote this book to show that sometimes what you want the most is right in your face, but if you don’t ask, you don’t get. You know, that whole trees for the forest thing. Here is a peek inside Claiming Cupid.

Claiming Cupid

by Jaxx Steele

Available from Silver Publishing

Blurb:

Daniel was sick and tired of Max’s ‘boyfriends’ dogging him. He thought Max deserved better and wanted him to be his man so he could treat him better, but he was afraid to jeopardize their friendship by making any unwanted moves on. When Max broke up with his latest lover the day before Valentine’s Day, Daniel could take it no more. He put a plan of action in place to claim and protect the heart of his old friend.

Excerpt:

Max chuckled and shook his head. "Clearly you don't know how fine you are, Danny. You are one of the most handsome men I have ever seen. That lean swimmer's body of yours makes everything you wear look sexy. Even what you’ve got on now," he said, gesturing up and down at the simple blue pajama pants and white tee shirt. Then he leaned forward on the table and pointed at Daniel. "You know, I always thought you had the same kind of eyes as my mother's cat."

Daniel's eyes widened a bit before he laughed. "No, no I don't. That would be totally creepy."

Max grinned. "Oh, yes you do. Don't get me wrong: my dislike for cats and the fact I think they're sneaky doesn't extend to you just because your eyes are similar."

"Ooowee, what a relief!"

"Yeah, well, don't get cocky. Yours may be just as brown as your skin, but they're still feline-shaped. So instead of creepy they make you look…" Max's head tilted as he scrutinized Danny further. "I don't know… kind of exotic," he said finally with a shrug. "They look for tall men and you're just as tall as I am. If you wanted, you could have easily been in front of the camera instead of behind it." Max turned his attention back to the drawings.

Daniel was shocked. Max had never said he found him attractive. He didn't even know Max looked at him like that. This news thrilled him and gave him the encouragement he needed to put his plan into action.

"I have the outfits for you to wear on your tour. Whenever you're ready to pick them up."

"Thanks, man. I'll come by after lunch today." Max swallowed the rest of his cocoa and dropped the mug to the table with a soft thud. "Ahh, I love this stuff. Hey, I have a suggestion. Since we're both solo this Valentine's Day, what's say we just hang out together? Me and you, Danny. Just two crazy guys." He rotated his arms in a wide circular motion and bounced in his seat.

Daniel went to the kitchen and took a few deep breaths, then returned with a small pot to refill Max's cup.

"Umm, I may have a date for Valentine's Day."

Max's brows shot up. "Say what?"

"Uh-huh, yeah. As a matter of fact, I wanted to ask you for some advice."

"Advice?"

"Yeah, I need some ideas on how to nab him. I want to make him my boyfriend instead of just a friend."

Max's expression went blank. The color drained from his face, leaving his usually perfectly pink lips a bland pale shade. He lowered his drink to the table with a thud.

"Uh, yeah. Sure. I guess I can do that for you."

Daniel reached out to tap his friend's hand. "Thanks, Max. You're the best."

"Uh-huh. So who is this guy? Do I know him?"

He gave Max an exaggerated shrug. "I don't know. You might. You know lots of people, being a superstar and all."

"Whatever, man." Max leaned back, wrapping his arms around his chest. "Do I know this guy or not? I don't want you hooking up with some fool just so you can have a date for Valentine's Day."

Max's sharp tone and change in posture gave Daniel pause. During the course of their friendship, he had seen Max go through many emotions, except for the one he wanted to see the most. As he eyed his friend over the small wooden dining room table, Daniel saw something he didn't recognize. Max's ebony eyes flashed wildly. He couldn't help but wonder if those shiny black discs looked the same way when they danced with passion. Max's nostrils flared as his breath filled, and he emptied his lungs quickly. He was angry, for sure, but if Daniel didn't know better, he could have sworn there was jealousy underlining it. The thought almost put a smile on his face. He cleared his throat and averted his eyes.

"He's not a bad guy, Max. We've been friends for a while."

Max turned on him with a scoff. "What does 'a while' mean?" he asked with a raised brow. "We have been friends for almost ten years and—"

"And what?"

Max pressed his lips together into a tight line of defiance. "And— and I know all of your friends," he said, turning away.

"Well, not all of them. I meet a few people now and then. You know, from the fashion shows. And the fittings. You're not into all that, and—"

"Uh-huh. All right, I'll give you that. So what's his name?"

Daniel blinked as his mind went blank. "Reggie," he blurted out.

"What?" Max screeched, palming the table. "Reggie? That jerk that works at the warehouse you get your fabric from?"

Shit!

"No, no, not him. It's a different Reggie," Daniel retracted swiftly. "You don't know this one."

Max returned to his former position and rolled his eyes. "Uh-huh, and you want my help to snag him? This other Reggie guy?"

"Yeah. I just need a couple of ideas, maybe even a few position ideas that will take him over the edge when I do them. I want something more out of our friendship."

Max's neck turned slowly to land an icy glare that froze Daniel's blood. His voice lowered to a sinister level.

"You're fucking this guy already?"

"No!" Daniel said quickly, shaking his palms in the air. His heart thumped behind his chest at heart-attack rate. "No, nothing like that. Okay, forget the position thing. Just some advice is all I need."

Max's glare became less intense and Daniel released the breath he was holding. He felt dizzy with relief.

___________________________

Jaxx Steele

Website ~ Blog ~ Facebook ~ Twitter

Wednesday's Words, by Morgan Asbury

2012-02-15T00:02:00.013-06:00

When we left for our vacation on the 6th of February it almost seemed as if winter hadn't arrived here yet. There was no snow on the ground, and the temperatures were fairly mild—almost consistently above freezing.

Nature took care of that little oversight while we were away. Though the snow wasn't deep when we got home, it was everywhere, and the land does indeed at last look like Southern Ontario in February.

We had a wonderful time on our vacation. We met more people – both fellow tourists, and locals – than we have on any vacation in a long time. It was amazing being back in Port Lucaya after nearly 20 years. The marina and a fountain were actually the only places we recognized. What had in our memory been a quaint assemblage of a few shops, and a large outdoor tiki bar overlooking a marina has turned into a thriving marketplace, where local craftsmen and women offered everything from clothing to jewelry to wood carvings.

Mr. Ashbury and I did indeed contribute, albeit modestly, to the local economy.

We took part in two excursions, as well. We participated in something called "Bonfire on the Beach" an evening of entertainment and music, food and drink provided by one of the local tour companies. And we enjoyed a two hour program put on by Unexso, which stands for Underwater Explorer's Society. In other words, we had a "Dolphin Encounter".

Mr. Ashbury was the one who got into the tank with the beautiful mammal, and had the opportunity to pet him. He even had his picture taken getting kissed by the dolphin. I elected to stay out of the drink and take pictures...but of course, I didn't stay dry, as the dolphin executed a couple of well-learned manoeuvres guaranteed to get everyone there sopping wet.

Tourism is the main industry in The Bahamas, so you can imagine that the downturn in the global economy has been devastating for these people. And yet, wherever we went, we were greeted with smiles, and kindness, and open-hearted welcome.

The pool was too chilly to swim in, as was the ocean—although Mr. Ashbury didn't let that stop him from having a dip into the briny almost every day. Of course we didn't let the weather disrupt our vacation. You can't control if it's sunny, or rainy, or suddenly unseasonably cool. You can only control your reaction to it all. It was our vacation, after all, and up to us to make of it what we would.

There were a couple of cabanas poolside, and here I would sit, several hours at a time, either reading or writing while the ocean breeze refreshed me, and the sight of pool, palm trees, and ocean rejuvenated me. Of course I wrote in this paradise, because to me, that is one of the purest pleasures in my life. How amazing it was to do so in such beautiful surroundings.

Mr. Ashbury and I both consider ourselves very blessed to enjoy vacations away from home as often as we do.

As much as I look forward to going someplace where I'm free from the everyday demands and stresses of life, I'm just as happy to come home. Having been born under the sign of Cancer, I really am a homebody, and never truly so happy as when I am in my own cave, doing my own thing—be it taking care of my family, reading a good book, or crafting a good story.

I'm pleased to announce two career milestones. My 25th book comes out on Friday! And, I have had my web site professionally re-designed. I'm so pleased with it I have a contest on the news page with a $30 prize. If you get a moment, please stop by and check it out. Wednesday's Word's blog.
Love,

Morgan

Love Under Two Navy Seals

by Cara Covington

Available from Bookstrand

With Julia back home safely, the SEALs know their enemy will strike again. But as the men of Lusty gather to entrap the villain, it is the women who take the biggest stand—and the biggest risk.

With Love Valentine's Day Blog Hop ~ WINNER

2012-02-15T00:02:00.005-06:00

Thank you to all those that entered and are now following. Come back around and comment every month to continue having a chance at the monthly giveaway.

Congratulations to the winner of this stop in the With Love Valentines Day hop!

katsrus

With Love Valentine's Day Blog Hop ~ Last Day

2012-02-14T00:01:00.040-06:00

Welcome blog-hoppers for the last day of the With Love Valentines Day Blog Hop.

I'm giving away a $50 Jewelry Shopping Spree plus one pdf copy from my backlist of books.

To enter:

1. Click the JOIN THIS SITE tab at the top of the righthand column and join.

2. Leave a comment on this post.

While this is a special contest for the blog hop, joining this site and leaving a comment will also enter you in the monthly contest of this blog. You can continue entering by commenting at least once in any month while you are a member.

Here's a sweet treat to make for your special day. Save it for later thought, so you can continue on your hop to Ruth Hill's blog.

Peanut Butter Delight

1st layer

1 cup flour
1/2 cup margarine
2/3 cup chopped fine walnuts

Mix and pat down in bottom of 9 x 13 baking dish.
Bake 350 degrees / 15 min.
Cool2nd layer

1/3 cup creamy peanut butter
8 ounces cream cheese, softened
1 cup powdered sugar
2 cups whipped cream

Mix well and spread over crust.

3rd layer

1 small vanilla instant pudding
1 small chocolate instant pudding
3 cups cold milk

Mix well and pour over 2nd layer
Top with whip cream, sprinkle with bits of chocolate or nuts.

With Love Valentines Day Blog Hop ~ Day 3

2012-02-13T00:01:00.022-06:00

Welcome blog-hoppers for the third day of the With Love Valentines Day Blog Hop.

I'm giving away a $50 Jewelry Shopping Spree plus one pdf copy from my backlist of books.

To enter:

1. Click the JOIN THIS SITE tab at the top of the righthand column and join.

2. Leave a comment on this post.

Here's a sweet treat to make for your special day. Save it for later thought, so you can continue on your hop to Ruth Hill's blog.

Baklava

1 (16 ounce) package phyllo dough 1 cup water

1 pound chopped nuts 1 cup white sugar

1 cup butter 1 teaspoon vanilla extract

1 teaspoon ground cinnamon 1/2 cup honey

Preheat oven to 350 degrees F(175 degrees C). Butter the bottoms and sides of a 9x13 inch pan.

Chop nuts and toss with cinnamon. Set aside. Unroll phyllo dough. Cut whole stack in half to fit pan. Cover phyllo with a dampened cloth to keep from drying out as you work. Place two sheets of dough in pan, butter thoroughly. Repeat until you have 8 sheets layered. Sprinkle 2 - 3 tablespoons of nut mixture on top. Top with two sheets of dough, butter, nuts, layering as you go. The top layer should be about 6 - 8 sheets deep.

Using a sharp knife cut into diamond or square shapes all the way to the bottom of the pan. You may cut into 4 long rows the make diagonal cuts. Bake for about 50 minutes until baklava is golden and crisp.

Make sauce while baklava is baking. Boil sugar and water until sugar is melted. Add vanilla and honey. Simmer for about 20 minutes.

Remove baklava from oven and immediately spoon sauce over it. Let cool. Serve in cupcake papers. This freezes well. Leave it uncovered as it gets soggy if it is wrapped up.

With Love, Valentines Day Blog Hop ~ Day 2

2012-02-12T00:01:00.047-06:00

Welcome blog-hoppers for the second day of the With Love Valentines Day Blog Hop.

I'm giving away a $50 Jewelry Shopping Spree plus one pdf copy from my backlist of books.

To enter:

1. Click the JOIN THIS SITE tab at the top of the righthand column and join.

2. Leave a comment on this post.

Here's a sweet treat to make for your special day. Save it for later thought, so you can continue on your hop to Ruth Hill's blog.

White Trash

1 pound almond bark
1 cup Rice Chex cereal
1 cup ChoclateTeddy Grahams cookies
1 cup of pretzel sticks, broken into pieces
4 ounces mixed nuts

Mix all ingredients except the almond bark.
Melt the almond bark in microwave, stirring frequently, and then stie into other ingredients.
Drop by spoonfuls onto wax paper.
Cool and eat.

With Love, Valentine's Day Blog Hop ~ Day 1

2012-02-11T00:01:00.086-06:00

Welcome blog-hoppers for the first day of the With Love Valentines Day Blog Hop.

I'm giving away a $50 Jewelry Shopping Spree plus one pdf copy from my backlist of books.

To enter you do two things:

1. Click the JOIN THIS SITE tab at the top of the righthand column and join.

2. Leave a comment on this post.

Here's a sweet treat to make for your special day. Save it for later thought, so you can continue on your hop to Ruth Hill's blog.

Grape Dessert

2 pounds Red Grapes
2 pounds Green Grapes
8 ounces Cream Cheese
1 teaspoon vanilla
1/2 cup sugar

Blend cream cheese, vanilla, and sugar with mixer.
Fold in grapes.

Topping

1 cup brown sugar
1 cup crushed pecans

The Magic of Love Valentine Giveaway!

2012-02-10T00:01:00.005-06:00

Visit the Carina Author's HERE BE MAGIC Blog for The Magic of Love Valentine Giveaway!

February 10th - 14th

To Live and Write in Slovakia

2012-02-09T00:01:00.020-06:00

In the summer of 1996, we went to live and work in the far east of Slovakia. Doesn’t that sound exciting? It was the first time I had lived in an ex-Communist country so I was prepared for anything, including some very tough times.

In fact, it was nothing like that. I only stayed for a few years but I had a wonderful time. Slovakia and its people won me over, and it is high on my list of places I’d like to retire to (except it doesn’t have coconuts, so I'm staying here in Queensland). What made it such a nice place to live in? It comes down to history, I suppose. Recently - meaning over the last 300 or 400 years, the people in eastern Slovakia have lived together in compact villages. They must have been controlled by the local aristocracy who made sure their peasants lived close together on strips of land of perhaps an acre. They built their houses near the street, and used the rest of their land to feed their families. Beyond their back fences, completely surrounding the village, lay communally farmed land, a large part of which belonged to the aristocrat.

Over the years, roads improved and the towns developed railways, but the villages stayed pretty much the same. When Communism took over, the peasants stopped working for an aristocrat and worked for the Party boss instead. You can imagine they did not notice much of a difference.

True, socialism did bring much better access to schools and medical services, and life got better for normal people. So much better, in fact, that Slovaks did not rush to tear things to pieces when Communism collapsed. Change is happening slowly, one step at a time.

We loved the villages. They are compact and everyone takes care of their front garden. They have churches - usually three - one each for Catholic, Greek Catholic and Orthodox people. There will be one or two shops, still in their old boring Communist colours and called “Store”. There will probably be a pub or two as well. The roads are good, there are well-regulated forests all around, the regional centre of Kosice is bustling and very historic, and there are cuckoo-clock villages at the edge of the Carpathians, so beautiful they can make you cry.

Then there is the historic landscape. Slovakia lay in the debatable lands between the Austrian and Ottoman Empires. Dangerous territory and there are castles everywhere. Some are just hill-top ruins, but others were preserved by the Austro-Hungarian nobility, and then by the Communist state (all those fat bureaucrats liked to have meetings and holidays in genuine castles). From more modern times, there are deserted Jewish cemeteries in odd corners, and monuments to Jews and Jehovah’s Witnesses taken to the death camps.

For me, Slovakia lay near paradise. I could wander all over the place with my bicycle, over hills and valleys, in and out of the forests. In our area, all the villages had little plaques recording the date of their liberation by the Red Army in late 1944, and you could trace the front back virtually day by day to the mountain pass at Dargov and beyond. You could get good food and excellent beer almost everywhere. You could even visit vineyards that produce the King of Wines - Tokaj.

And then winter came, and for the first time in my life I could enjoy proper snow, and swish around the countryside on cross-country skis. I had my first white Christmas! I loved it. I can definitely recommend Slovakia as a holiday destination in winter, and the summer is equally good.

With all the beauty and interesting history around, I just had to use my surroundings as the setting for a novel. The professors always tell us to ‘write what you know’, so I had an advantage. At least my settings would be real, and so would the wonderful steamy cafes. If I looked more closely at the towns and villages, and asked local friends about their history, I could get some of the feeling of living in this troubled area in the mid-twentieth century.

Still I needed to know and feel more, and my idle tourism took on a purpose. More skiing in the Carpathians, more little wooden churches in isolated villages, more castles - it was a tough life, believe me.

Now we live in tropical Queensland, but we retain friends from Slovakia. They come to visit, and we visit them. The bicycle touring is just as pretty, and the beer is just as good. Perhaps I can win the lottery and have a house in both places...

The Prince and the Nun

by Jacqueline George

Read more about Slovakia and The Prince and the Nun

Jacqueline George lives in Far North Queensland, on the shores of the Coral Sea. She enjoys traveling, good food and wine, and writing romantic adventures, some of which are far too naughty for her own good.

Wednesday's Words, by Morgan Ashbury

2012-02-08T00:01:00.008-06:00

The sound of the surf and the wonderful sensations of the salt breeze on my face, and my laptop under my fingertips: this is vacation at its best, at least to me.

We arrived at the resort in Freeport, in The Bahamas early Monday evening, just at dusk. I can report that our "ocean view" room really affords us a totally awesome, full-on ocean view. We're on the fifth floor, and from our balcony we can see the grounds of the resort, including some of the pools, and the ocean—big, blue, and magnificent.

I've found an unoccupied cabana (alas, no Cabana boys in attendance) and I'm intending to test how long the battery on my laptop will work. I'm only a few feet from one of the pools—the one that has the pool bar in it. This pool also has a special feature that makes it look as if it bleeds into the ocean.

I haven't dipped my toes in the pool yet. That's because I'm watching these big burly types standing on the stairs, water only up to to their knees, just standing there, chatting together, acting as if the pool isn't far and away too cold for their tastes.

I'll get into it by and by. At this moment, however, having deposited me safely where I can write, my beloved has taken himself to the beach, not even 100 feet from where I sit. He loves the ocean. He'll swim every day, no matter the weather, just because he can.

Our kids think that's funny as hell because in years past, their dad never liked to swim and so never went into the water. His stated reason? Because the water was wet.

Yesterday morning as we were having our first coffee of the day on our balcony, I thought of my parents. In their day (let's say the early 1960s), this kind of travel was something only the very rich were able to afford, and this resort something they might only have ever seen on the silver screen.

Sometimes, especially lately with the downturn in the economy that we've all experienced, it's easy to forget that we as a society have come a long way in the last fifty years.

But we have, and in no area more dramatically, I believe, than in the realm of vacations and vacation travel.

What used to be considered a special privilege that you would only allow yourself once every two or three years, is now an annual, or even semi-annual entitlement. What used to cost thousands of dollars now costs but hundreds. And while that is still a lot of money, a Caribbean vacation is not out of reach, really, for anyone who wants one badly enough and is willing to save up for it.

In the mean time, while I'm not certain when I'll venture into the too-cold for Morgan pool, the hot tub seats about 12 and is very, very fine.

As for Mr. Ashbury, he has returned from the ocean, and the pool, and has noted that one of the hammocks—the one fairly close to where we're sitting, in fact—is unoccupied. He's never actually tried one out before, though he has heard tales from others who have and swear by them. The two gentlemen who come immediately to mind in this instance are our oldest son, and Mr. Wildes, beloved husband of my dear friend, Emma Wildes.

David gave it a good try Tuesday afternoon, and has judged it a good place to spend some time. He needs but a towel under him and a book in his hand, he said and he will be content.

Apparently, we're not that far apart on our individual interpretation of the word, `paradise'.

If you'd like a peek at our morning view, check out my Wednesday's Word's blog.
Love,

Morgan

Love Under Two Navy Seals

by Cara Covington

Available from Bookstrand

With Julia back home safely, the SEALs know their enemy will strike again. But as the men of Lusty gather to entrap the villain, it is the women who take the biggest stand—and the biggest risk.

Shannon Leigh on being a nurse

2012-02-07T00:01:00.053-06:00

When you ask most nurses why they chose their profession, a common answer you might get is that they like to help people. Which, in my opinion, is a good reason. A few may say money, which is a terrible reason. While others still may state they didn’t know what else to choose. Another poor reason. Nursing is a very humbling job. There’s not a lot of glory, so to speak. Which typically weeds out the good from the bad. And believe me; I’ve met some terrible nurses, as well as great ones.

Why did I pick nursing? Probably a combination of things. Primarily, I’m a nurturing type of person. I do like helping people, and I have a knack for remaining calm in the throes of an emergency—although I tend to fall apart afterward, particularly when it involves my kids! Yes, the pay is nice. Yes, it seemed the best choice at the time when trying to decide what to do. But ultimately, I think the deciding factor came one day when I was watching TV and saw a commercial for Kosair Children’s Hospital (in Louisville, Kentucky) talking about the rewards of being a Neonatal Intensive Care Unit (NICU) nurse. I knew right then and there that that’s what I wanted to do. I wanted to work with those little babies and help make a difference.

After six years of college—a bachelor’s degree in four years is a joke unless you have no job, no kids, and no other responsibilities but going to school for 17+ credit hours a semester—I finally graduated from Indiana University in 1996 with a medal of distinction, a RN BSN certificate of degree, and a bleak job market. Believe it or not, nursing jobs were hard to come by back then. There were so many little colleges popping up that offered two year RN degrees (Associates) that the market was saturated with nurses. Luckily, I’d been working as a nurse’s aid at the local hospital, had managed to squeeze my way into the Obstetrical Unit (OB), and was able to begin work as an intermittent nurse for a few hours a week.

While I hadn’t made it to the NICU yet, I did work for a while in postpartum. Spending time with new moms and their babies, teaching them how to breastfeed, change diapers, etc. was a lot of fun. Since jobs were scarce, the possibility of getting into the actual delivery room any time soon was pretty much non-existent. Not long after I graduated from college, another hospital nearby posted a position for a PRN (as needed) nurse in their OB Unit, which included Labor and Delivery. I applied and got the job so I began working a few hours there as well. I was moving closer to the NICU I’d dreamed of.

After several months of delivering babies and learning that along with the reward of bringing life into the world came a hefty dose of responsibility and liability, I realized that as enjoyable as the OB department was, I didn’t like the fear of getting sued and losing my license. Six years was a long time to watch go down the tubes. At that point, I decided NICU was no longer for me. I applied for a temporary, second shift position for the US Census Bureau as an Occupational Health Nurse and was offered the job. At the time, I expected it to be a short-term thing. Once the Decennial Census was over, they’d let me go and I’d be looking for a job once again. I was so wrong.

Not long after I began my career at the Census Bureau, one of the other dayshift nurses (there were only two) decided she could no longer work. She went out on disability, claiming the job was causing her undue stress. Undue stress? Ha! Try delivering babies and hoping like hell everything goes okay. That’s undue stress. Anyhow, my temporary nightshift position was suddenly converted to a permanent dayshift job. Yea! What’s so funny about all of this is during nursing school, a counselor came in and gave my graduating class a little speech about what our futures would entail, how some of us would work in this field or that field. She said, based on our size (52), that it was likely that two of us would go into Occupational nursing. I remember thinking at the time. “Not me, I’m going to the NICU.” *snickers* How naïve I was.

So what is an Occupational Health Nurse, you wonder. What do I do? Well, it’s sort of like being a school nurse, for grown ups. And believe me, if I didn’t know how old my patients are, I’d swear I was dealing with a bunch of kids! Don’t even get me started. You’d be amazed at how childlike adults can behave, but that’s best left for another blog.

What do I do all day? Well, if you ask my ex, he’d say I sit on my butt and do nothing, which is grossly inaccurate. I do sit a lot. I have an office with a nice, ergonomic chair (working for the government does have its perks) that my butt stays parked in for a large portion of the day. But that’s not to say I don’t do anything from that position. Actually, I’m up and down a lot. It really depends on what my patient needs. Which is good because having your butt fall asleep is a very unpleasant sensation. Even worse than a foot. I never even knew a derrière could go numb, but it can and mine has. It sucks.

A blood pressure check, some Tylenol, a pep talk, yeah, I can multitask; I can sit and do all those things. Digging out splinters, looking for foreign objects in the eye, cleaning freely bleeding wounds acquired through the poor use of box cutters, those usually require me to leave the comfort of my seat. I also respond to emergencies on the job site, teach CPR and First Aid to the employees, perform ergonomic evaluations, the list goes on…

Occupational nursing is a lot different from hospital nursing. There’s a lot more teaching, a lot more problem solving. Everything revolves around how it impacts the job and the employee’s ability to do their job, both immediately and long term. You don’t have the benefit of having all your orders on how to take care of your patient illegibly scribbled in a chart. Yes, I meant illegibly. Have you ever tried deciphering a doctor’s chicken scratch? It’s terrible.

At my job, there is no doctor. You make the decisions on how to treat you patient’s ailment based on their symptoms. This not only means deciding whether to give Tylenol, Ibuprofen, Excedrin, or Aspirin for the typical headache, taking into consideration their other health issues and medications, but also whether or not someone’s chest pain is heart related and they need a trip to the emergency room, or they just have indigestion from the burrito they ate at lunch. And let me just mention that just because I think they may need to go to hospital doesn’t mean they agree. So dealing with difficult patients and convincing them that the money spent on an ambulance run is money well spent if it saves their lives is another one of my job duties.

Believe me; I’ve had patients come in wanting their blood pressure checked, discover it’s stroke-level high, admit they haven’t taken their medicine in the last week or so because they just didn’t bother to call it in or won’t have the money until payday (despite the fact that they smell like an ashtray so they obviously have money for cigarettes), then tell me they’ll call their doctor if they don’t get to feeling better and just want to go back to work. Why’d they come to the Health Unit to begin with? Just to verify that yep, their blood pressure is astronomically high? Yeah, makes me want to throttle them. However, I do believe strangling the employees is a no no, even for a government facility. So I return them to duty, praying they don’t go out on the floor and have a heart attack or stroke. Then I usually get a call from an angry supervisor wanting to know why I sent them back to their job with a dangerously high blood pressure. Like it was my choice!!! And I have to calmly explain that I can’t force anyone to seek medical treatment, whether I advise it or not. It’s great. Everyone loves to bash the Health Unit nurses when they think we don’t know what we’re doing, yet we’re the first ones they call in an emergency. Ironic isn’t it. Remember what I said about glory?

There’s a lot of autonomy and in many ways, a lot more responsibility with my job. I remember when I first started working at the Bureau; I asked my supervisor if I needed to carry malpractice insurance (like you do as a hospital nurse). She laughed and said, “Why? You’ve got the entire government and their best attorneys on your side.” It was an eye-opening statement, in more ways than one.

Needless to say, that was nearly 14 years ago. My temporary delve into the Occupational Health world morphed into a fulfilling career that I love, despite the frustrations. So when someone asks, “What do you do?” I proudly say, “I’m an Occupational Health Nurse.” Then with a dramatic pause, I have to add, “For the Federal Government.” Kinda makes me feel like a special agent or a super hero.

Imagine the Mission Impossible theme playing; me decked out in a tight-leather, black, body suit; cool sunglasses; armed with a syringe in one hand and a blood pressure cuff and stethoscope in the other; ready to battle the forces of hypertension and promote disease prevention…

Leigh, Shannon Leigh. Occupational Health Nurse for the US Department of Commerce, Bureau of the Census. Ha ha ha.

Okay, maybe not tight leathers—I have to wear scrubs. Nothing wrong with an active imagination, which leads me to one of my many hobbies: writing. But that’s a story for another time. I’m off to fight sickness and poor life-style choices. Now where’d I leave that cape…

_______________________________________________________

Chasing Booty

by Shannon Leigh

ISBN-13: 978-1-60272-267-5

Available from Amber Quill Press

BLURB

When cops can’t catch the most-wanted criminals, they hire Gaelyn. She comes from a long line of bounty hunters, including her father, uncle, and grandfather. Extensive training in weaponry, hand-to-hand combat, and adverse conditions have seasoned her into a formidable opponent against any contracted hit, whether male, female, alien, or human. She has little fear of the unknown and thrives on adventure.

Only one other hunter matches her status—Reese, a Trøndite from the small planet of Sør-Trøndalag in the Capricornus Sector. And the man has a knack for stealing her contracts. Both cunning and gorgeous, the mix doesn’t seem quite fair. But attractiveness holds little power over money. Reese had beaten Gaelyn out of a half-year’s pay a scarce three months ago, and she will be damned if he outwits her again.

Thinking she’s duped Reese back onto Jupiter, Gaelyn isn’t too happy when she runs into him on Quaoar at the Blue Moon, an authentic hole-in-the-wall bar tucked at the end of a narrow alley in what would be considered the rough part of town; just the place to find her contracted hit. But Reese not only has the information she needs to find her mark, he also has a business proposal that’s too tempting to pass up. And a partnership with Reese just might prove rewarding in a way Gaelyn never expects...

EXCERPT

...With an air of “don’t-fuck-with-me” in her step, she made her way toward him. “The bartender seems to think you can be of some assistance,” she declared, stopping a mere six inches to the left of the man’s seated frame.

He ignored her, choosing instead to take a long swig from his mug.

Removing her laser from its holster on her left thigh, she plopped it onto the counter top. Her hand rested lightly on its black metallic shape, her finger hugging the trigger. “Well?”

“I can take you there, for a price,” he replied, his deep voice a thunderous rumble within his muscular chest.

Annoyed, she lifted her chin. “Name it,” she practically growled.

The man chuckled. “It’ll be steep,” he warned. “Perhaps more than you’re willing to pay.”

Gaelyn’s patience wore thin. They wasted precious time. Is this guy gonna get down to business or what?

Struggling to see his face beneath the shadowed hood, she leaned a little closer. “Look, buddy. I don’t have time for games. Either name your price or I’ll take my business elsewhere.”

He glanced at her, his onyx, deep-set eyes two bottomless black pits within his handsome angular face. “I want half the booty. For starters.”

Gaelyn’s breath caught in her throat. Reese.

This wasn’t happening.

He pulled back his hood, letting the heavy material fall onto his broad shoulders in a neatly folded pleat. “Hello, Gael. It’s been a long time.”

Her right fist doubled at her waist. With forced control, she resisted the urge to knock that superior smirk right off his handsome face. “Reese,” she said through clenched teeth. “I suppose you’re after the same hit.”

He shrugged. “It’s a sizeable payoff.”

“He’s my contract.” Warning laced her tone.

Reese turned fully toward her, his massive frame almost comical atop the strained bar stool. “Well now, seems we have a difference of opinion on that matter.”

He offered a grin so seductive it could melt the ice right off Quaoar’s frozen surface. The bartender’s description fit him to a tee. With his rectangular features—the wide zygomatic breadth, the broad jaw and flaring gonial angles, the prominent chin—Reese did look like the devil himself. Of course the red skin, horns, and barbed tail only added to his demonic appearance.

Gaelyn’s gaze dropped to the tight black T-shirt stretched across his bulging pecs and flat abs. Warning bells clamored in her head, but her inspection continued on to the waistband of his faded jeans, and inevitably to the generous bulge at his groin. An old song her father used to play popped in her head and it took everything she had not to belt it aloud.

The devil went down to Georgia, he was lookin’ for a soul to steal.

In a bind, cause he was way behind, he was lookin’ to make a deal...

Despite her fury, Gaelyn’s insides responded. Her stomach knotted with instant need, causing her pussy to clench. One couldn’t dispute the man’s virility. While they’d never “hooked” up, she couldn’t deny her attraction. She’d be willing to bet half the contracted pay that he’d be awesome in bed.

She’d heard Trøndite males had large penises, that they were, in fact, able to do extraordinary things with their members. She wasn’t sure what those things might be, but the swell in his pants clearly indicated his considerable endowment. She imagined herself down on all fours with Reese up behind her, pounding his big cock in and out of her tight channel.

Moisture seeped between her legs, making her leather pants cling to her crotch most uncomfortably. The room felt hot. She hadn’t had a good fuck in quite a while. Perhaps they’d work that into the deal...

__________________________________

Shannon Leigh

Website * Email * Newsletter * Myspace * Facebook * Twitter * Blog

Spams and Cons

2012-02-06T00:01:00.090-06:00

Sounds like a title of book, huh? I might have to look into do a story for that one day. But this post isn't about a book. It's about life.

It seems everyday I'm swamped with emails and there's no getting to the end before another day. I have five main email addy's I use, and another five I semi-use, and then I have something like five hundred that came with my website that I rarely use.

Spam is inevitable and may be anything from one of the three hundred plus yahoo groups I'm on, to the address books of correspondents that had the misfortune to be hacked, or they come from criminals with their schemes.

Everyday I get emails telling me I've won lotteries or I'm the beneficiary of some deceased relative or some other reason I can't believe anyone in the computer world would take seriously.

Hey Crooks, I'm into genealogy, I know all my relations back hundreds of years and none of them are leaving me millions, billions or gazillions---because---they---don't---got---any!

Here is an example of one long-winded gentleman that not only expects me (a complete stranger) to believe him, he's talking about committing bank fraud (of course this is provided the bank wasn't fictitious to begin with).

Feel free to share the latest con that's come your way?

Dear Sir/Mam,

I know this letter must come to you as a big surprise, but I believe it is only a day that people meet and become great friends and business partners,Though, this medium (Internet) has been greatly abused, but I choose to reach you through it because it still remains the fastest and most confidential medium of communication.

Well I have an urgent and lucrative business transaction that will Profit the both of us after completion. So I want you to patiently read through this email and get back to me My Name is Mr.Serg Zabo,a Banker by profession, I work with Bank of Africa Here in Lagos Nigeria.

In January 1995,an American oil Consultant/Contractor (Mohamed Mohd Salaheldin) made a numbered-time (fixed deposit) for twenty four calendar months valued at ($25.150 M) TWENTY FIVE MILLION ONE HUNDRED AND FIFTY THOUSAND UNITED STATED DOLLARS Upon maturity, I sent a routine notification of Account status to his forwarding address but got no reply up till date.

After two months, we sent a reminder of same letter, and finally we discovered from his contact employers, (Halliburton Oil Services Company)that Mohamed Mohd Salaheldin died in an EgyptAir Flight 990 Boeing 767-366ER, SU-GAP 60 Miles South of Nantucket on October 31, 1999. Please read more details about the crash:

http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/americas/502503.stm

http://historicmysteries.com/the-mysterious-crash-of-egyptair-flight-990

http://www.airdisaster.com/reports/ntsb/AAB02-01.pdf

This office has exhaustively made efforts to locate the next of kin/beneficiary, or any relative of our deceased customer,all to no avail and not successful.

I have contacted you to assist me in securing this money before they get confiscated or declared unserviceable by this bank. The banking law and guidelines here stipulates that if such an account remains dormant or non-operational after a period of Twelve (12) years,the money will be transferred into banking treasury as unclaimed bill.

However, attempts have been made twice by the Government Agency concerned to confiscate this account if not for my intervention as the head account and audit dept. I have always told them that the next of kin has been in touch with us. The request of a foreigner as next of kin in this business is occasioned by the fact that the customer was a foreigner.

Your response will determine our subsequent correspondence.

On replying please provide the following for effective communication:

Full Name:

Secure E-mail:

Secure Fax Number:

Cell Phone:

This transaction requires utmost trust and sincerity, get back to me so i can give you more details so we can proceed.

Best regards,

Mr. Serg Zabo

Eye Candy: David Beckham

2012-02-05T00:01:00.005-06:00

Romance in France

2012-02-04T00:01:00.038-06:00

Paris is probably the widely thought city for love and romance. The architecture, the history, the passion, the friendliness of the people…seriously, I never had a bit of problem with the French. Of course, I always said I was Canadian and they love Canada, so maybe I’m a bit off on that point.

I’ve been to Paris three times and lived there for four months in 2004, so I think I have a fair bit of opinion on why I think Paris should be the second famous city for love and romance. What, may you ask is the first? I would have to say Giverny, France. Some might recognize the name immediately as the home of Claude Monet. And while this little trip happened eight years ago, and I’m sure the area has been modernized now, in 2004 it was the perfect little sidetrip for my boyfriend and myself.

I recommend taking the trip to Giverny in Spring, because the train trip from Paris is on one of those trains that still has vinyl on the seat. In spring, it won’t be so hot for your thigh skin to melt into it, saving you a little discomfort. When you get to Vernon, you will realize that Giverny is about three miles away, and to preserve the historical importance of Monet’s house, you will be told the best way to get there is bike riding.

Let me assure you, even if your ass is not prepared for a three mile bike ride, the countryside is mainly level and there is a marked path to follow. Just as soon as you get through the city of Vernon, that is. Once you get to the house and fall in love with the flowers (again, Springtime is best for optimal enjoyment of the flower gardens and numerous bees), you notice that there is a parking lot full of cars and you start to wonder where the hell did they come from.

The bridge of the lily pond is breathtaking. You know the one I’m talking about. It’s the most romantic place on earth to stand on, hold the hand of your loved one, and blink like crazy as about a hundred pictures are all snapped at once because you two make such a lovely picture.

As you walk through the house and take the tour, you will slowly come to realize that at the end of the day you now have to bike ride the three miles back. If you fail to make the last train back to Paris, you’ll have to find a room somewhere, so I hope you can speak French. And also, by the end of the day, you’ll discover most of the restaurants are closed, so McDonalds it is.

-Beth D. Carter…

…who really had a lovely time Giverny!!

Black Leather Pants

by Beth D. Carter

ISBN: 1606015362

Available from BookStrand

BLURB

Small town girl Penny Varlet has moved to Los Angeles to pursue her love of art. Her boss, Kiley Laurent, is a sinfully sensual man who finds his way into her erotic dreams. One night, while working late, they act on their impulse and share a moment of raw passion.

Circumstances continue to throw them together, until one night, while working late, Penny is attacked by an intruder and hurt. Kiley whisks her away to Paris to heal, showing her a world of art and wonder. As she heals, can Penny put the anger over her attack to rest and find the courage to act on her love for Kiley?

EXCERPT

Glad she had someone she could understand and communicate with, Penny smiled widely at Kiley’s sister. "Hello, Antoinette."

The tall blonde hugged her. "How are you?" she asked softly.

"Better, I think."

Antoinette looked down at her somberly. "I wanted to stay and help, but

Kiley told me he planned to come home." She shook her head.

"Unbelievable, oui?"

Penny nodded. "The whole situation, especially with Jed behind it."

The blonde waved her hand in the air. "Oui. But I meant Kiley."

Penny cocked her head to one side. "Papillon?"

She fell quiet for a moment as she swung her gaze to her brother. "No," she replied quietly. "I've never seen him so shaken, because of you, not his art." She smiled and looked back down at Penny. "I've been bringing my friends to him for years hoping he'd find interest in one of them, but I see he's found his own love."

The heat hit Penny's cheeks. "Oh...that is...I wouldn't put words in his mouth," she stammered.

Antoinette raised a brow. "His mouth? Not yours?"

Penny looked away and chugged her drink.

"I stood on the balcony, Penny, and I assure you, I've never seen my brother so intense. We French know three things: wine, cheese and love.

Really, it's written into law somewhere."

_____________________________

Beth Carter

Website ~ Blog ~ Twitter ~ Facebook

VINTAGE RECIPE: Mushroom Ketchup

2012-02-03T00:01:00.028-06:00

If I hadn't mentioned before, I collect antique books. Mostly reference ones including cookbooks because I like to cook. I also look for vintage recipes online. Here's one for Mushroom Ketchcup. I haven't tried it yet, but it does sound interesting. I may have to up the modernization and use an electic stove instead of a fire.

Take the Gills of large Mushrooms, such as are spread quite open, put them into a Skellet of Bell-Metal, or a Vessel of Earthen-Ware glazed, and set them over a gentle Fire till they begin to change into Water; and then frequently stirring them till there is as much Liquor come out of them as can be expected, pressing them often with a Spoon against the side of the Vessel; then strain off the Liquor, and put to every Quart of it about eighty Cloves, if they are fresh and good, or half as many more, if they are dry, or have been kept a long time, and about a Drachm of Mace: add to this about a Pint of strong red Port Wine that has not been adulterated, and boil them all together till you judge that every Quart /142/ has lost about a fourth Part or half a Pint; then pass it thro' a Sieve, and let it stand to cool, and when it is quite cold, bottle it up in dry Bottles of Pints or Half-Pints, and cork them close, for it is the surest way to keep these kind of Liquors in such small quantities as may be used quickly, when they come to be exposed to the Air, for fear of growing mouldy: but I have had a Bottle of this sort of Ketchup, that has been open'd and set by for above a Year, that has not received the least Damage; and some Acquaintance of mine have made of the same sort, and have kept it in Quart-Bottles to use as occasion required, and have kept it good much longer than I have done. A little of it is very rich in any Sauce, and especially when Gravey is wanting: Therefore it may be of service to Travellers, who too frequently meet with good Fish, and other Meats, in Britain, as well as in several other parts of Europe, that are spoiled in the dressing; but it must be consider'd, that there is no Salt in this, so that whenever it is used, Salt, Anchovies, or other such like relishing things, may be used with it, if they are agreeable to the Palate...

Source: Richard Bradley, The Country Gentleman's and Farmer's Monthly Director. Fifth edition. London: Woodman and Lyon, 1728.

A Month for Love

2012-02-02T00:02:00.000-06:00

January's $50 Jewelry Shopping Spree Give-a-Way Winner is ilona

Wednesday's Words, by Morgan Ashbury

2012-02-01T00:01:00.007-06:00

This time next week, the Ashburys will once more be on vacation. It would seem that this year, we will definitely earn the moniker, "traveling fools". The next few trips will be related to my career—we plan to attend the RT convention in Chicago in April, the RWA convention in Anaheim in July, and the first ever Siren-Bookstrand conference taking place in Dallas, Texas, in August. This trip, however, is just for us.

Mr. Ashbury has wanted to travel to a warm clime this time of year for the past several years, and so we are going to The Bahamas for a week.

I consider myself very lucky to do the traveling I do, even though there's a huge part of me that would just as soon stay home. I am a homebody at heart, and never so happy as when I have my domain all to myself.

These last few weeks have seen a flurry of activity on our part, trying to decide where to go. The only criterion was that the destination had to be warm enough to swim.

Unfortunately and very sadly, one major "warm locale" that a lot of Canadians visit annually was absolutely off the table as far as we were concerned, and that place was Mexico.

One needs only to have paid attention to international news over the last few years to hear about the dozens of Canadians who've been victims of violence in that country—112 Canadians dead in the last 5 years according to the (Canadian) federal Department of Foreign Affairs and International Trade.

Perhaps 112 out of the million or so who have visited isn't that high a number, statistically, but it's high enough for us. My heart breaks for those whose loved ones have come to grief; and it's a shame for that historically colourful country, because Mexico and her people deserve better than to be earning the kind of reputation that they have, lately. I know many Canadians still consider Mexico a fine spot to vacation and are going there, regardless of recent events.

The Ashburys aren't willing to take that chance.

So it's off to the Bahamas, to swim, and to sun (a little) and just basically decompress. I'll be taking my laptop, of course. I'd go nuts if I couldn't write, because writing isn't so much my job as it's my passion. Being an author isn't what I do, it's who I am.

Mr. Ashbury likes to walk around and explore. Being a history buff (and convinced he was a pirate in a previous life), there's always plenty to grab his attention. With his exploring and my writing, we're always ensured of a good combination of together time and alone time that makes our vacations the best they can be.

I've been assured that I'll be able to rent a mobility scooter once I'm there, so I'm looking forward to a bit of exploration, myself. And while I don't like to shop at home, I love looking at all the souvenirs and such these places have for sale. I've already gotten `gift requests' from a couple of my grandchildren.

The winter in our neck of the woods so far has been rather placid. We did receive an unexpected dumping of a few inches of snow on Sunday afternoon—snow that is gone now. Although it doesn't take much in the way of cold and wet to attack my arthritis, Mr. Ashbury hasn't even had the opportunity to haul out his snow blower yet. Sunday he just used the shovel, and called it done.

I told him not to worry; he likely would get the opportunity to pull out that machine before spring arrives. After all, this is Canada, and winter always leaves its mark.

In the Bahamas, we'll be staying at a hotel that is very close to a beach, with high-speed Internet available. So I'll be able to post my essay on schedule and keep in touch with my family and friends.

Love,

Morgan

Love Under Two Navy Seals

by Cara Covington

Available from Bookstrand

With Julia back home safely, the SEALs know their enemy will strike again. But as the men of Lusty gather to entrap the villain, it is the women who take the biggest stand—and the biggest risk.

Tangled

2012-01-31T00:01:00.001-06:00

I've watched Tangled at least a hundred times (no kidding), thanks to my four year old nephew who hangs at my house weekdays while his parent's work. Every so often, I find myself fascinated by how an animated character can have the same sex appeal as a man. Zachary Levi brings that attractive, endearing quality to Eugene Fitzherbert aka Flynn Rider in Tangled. His voice transports me into the fantasy and what's more, he is equally matched by Mandy Moore breathing life into Rapunzel. Disney couldn't have found two better people to bring magic to this movie. If you haven't seen Tangled, then you're missing a truly wonderful romance. Just keep tissues on hand when they realize they're in love. I cry every time I watch and hear them sing I See the Light.

Oh, and by the way, Zachary and Mandy are as beautiful to look at as their Characters. if ever there were to be a sequel to a movie, then it should have been this one.

Interview with Genella deGrey

2012-01-30T00:01:00.001-06:00

Welcome Genella,

BW: Thank you for letting me interview you with some ordinary and some offbeat questions. Our readers are an International lot, so how about you tell us what region of the world you live in and what do you think makes it unique? (Be as general or as specific as you like with your location)

GD: Hi Brenda – thanks for having me! I was born and raised in Southern California and currently reside in “The entertainment capital of the world,” which is Burbank, as opposed to Hollywood. In fact, we are just over the hill from Hollywood.

BW: The common question for most writers is how you chose a career in writing? If you have an answer, go ahead and share, but we’d really like to know is have you ever done any writing while in the nude? And why or why not?

GD: It’s likely too early on to call it a career, but someday it would be nice to tag it that way. :)

I have not done any writing in the nude – I’m most certain I wouldn’t like the way my desk chair would stick to my backside. LOL

BW: What do you find the hardest part of writing a book? Maybe the plot, the research, lack of time, or something else?

GD: My bloody fickle muse makes it tough. I have to be in the right mindset – especially for those scenes (wink, wink - being a single gal it’s difficult to conjure up the steam all by me one-sies, if you know what I mean) – and I would love to have more time to write (without worrying about paying the rent, etc.)

BW: Is writing your only career, or do you have what some people call “the day job”?

GD: I do have a day job – I am currently working as a creative assistant for the Blue Sky Team at Walt Disney Imagineering. And I have to tell you I LOVE it here. :)

BW: How much candy do you eat and what’s your favorite?

GD: On a normal month (not October or December) I can get by with one piece right before “that time.” I’m not really a huge sweets person, but you know a gal really needs her chocolate to tame the PMS beast within. LOL

My favorite is See’s Candies – any of their Dark Chocolate or White Chocolate by Dove. Mmmm. Suggestion for a rainy night (or any night, really) : Watch the movie, “Chocolat” while taking nibbles of your Chocolate. Between that and Johnny Depp, I promise you’ll fully enjoy the experience. :)

BW: Are you married, have children or is your baby a bit fuzzy like a cat or dog, and how do they help or hinder your writing?

GD: Two questions ago, I was single . . . Sadly, that is still the case. ;) Single and looking for a good (sexy & smart) man.

I have two adult children and a 7 year-old – none of which help nor hinder the writing. :)

BW: Do you get to travel for researching your books or pleasure, or do you have a life that has chained you to your neck of the woods? And where did you last go or where would you like to go?

GD: I do so love to travel! I’ve done it for research (not too much, though) but mostly for pleasure or romance novel conventions. My last trip was to Houston, Texas where I met up with a bunch of friends to go to a renaissance festival. I have to admit, it what the best time I’ve had all year – I even got to sign a couple of books while in Houston. :)

BW: What body part do you find sexy about a man?

GD: His smile – so that would be his mouth . . . . Yeah. His mouth. Ahem.

BW: What body part do you find sexy about a woman?

GD: Hm. It’s not a body part – More like if she’s friendly or not. . . and I guess that doesn’t have much to do with “sexy” per se. Although confidence is always sexy on a man or a woman.

BW: What story are you currently working on and can you give us the first glimpse of a couple paragraphs? We know it might be the unedited first draft, but it would really be a special treat to see a smidge of something in progress.

GD: I’m gearing up for the 30 January release of “Masterpiece,” where A Greek myth’s curse unfolds in Renaissance Italy. After that I will be editing “A Touch of Destiny” (a sexy Victorian old west romance where a widow gets another chance at love with a handsome young wanderer) and “Whisked Away,” (a related book about a couple of characters from ATod) – both set for release sometime in 2012. Once those are finished, I’m hoping to pick up my work in progress, “Cat and Mouse.” Here is a taste for your enjoyment (unedited) :

EXCERPT:

The London Season, 1898

Does she have to be so bloody loud? The woman mewled like a cat in heat. For God's sake, it's only a buggering.

From underneath the partially refurbished rig in a fashionable London town house’s repair shed, Katrina waited, ice pick in hand, for the perfect opportunity. Thankfully the woman, who may or may not have been in the throes of passion, was too occupied with her ear-piercing song to notice when her overly-gauche diamond necklace, heavy with its sparkling decoration, slid 'round to dangle from the back of her neck. The woman must have been hanging half-way out of the buggy's door, for the top of her blond head nearly swept the ground. Had the thing wheels, her coiffure wouldn't be in danger of attracting bits of hay and dirt from the floor—then again, Katrina wouldn't have been so well-hidden in the moonlight-dappled buggy port.

It was now or never. Eyeing the stone she'd chosen to detach from the ensemble, Katrina adjusted the instrument of liberation in her grip.

The woman who'd been vocalizing her crisis, feigned or not, quieted.

"Come, Mrs. Fowler, this is no time to be silent." The man doing the rogering, and the front-row-center recipient of her concert, hissed in a strangled whisper.

"Shut up you lout. I'm almost there," she retorted.

At once the rig rocked with the vigor of thief fleeing a crime scene. Katrina reached out to grasp the winking stone between her fingers when all at once, the entire necklace fell to the floor.

BW: It’s been a pleasure torturing you with questions and I hope not too painful a process in coming up with answers, and we hope to have you back again.

GD: Not torturous at all, it was my honor, Brenda. :)

Masterpiece

by Genella deGrey

Available from Total E Bound Publishing

1605, Rome, Italy

It is the dawn of the Italian Renaissance. A handful of women artists emerge from the male-dominated middle ages to stand out among the crowd. A promising young painter, Gia Vessa, has just moved to Rome after the death of her father and immediately catches the eye of a handsome, wealthy man who seeks to become her benefactor. But what else will the sensually dark man want from her that she’d be more than willing to give?

Handsome as the Devil himself, affluent art collector, Pietro Scarabassi, has a secret. For thousands of years his spirit has waited to find the soul of Ciri, the young woman who gave away what he felt was rightfully his—her virtue, to some unworthy whelp. Now that he has finally found her manifested into the human form of the budding artist, Gia Vessa, Pietro will stop at nothing to destroy her and her lover.

Trapped inside a stone pillar that was once part of a Grecian temple of Venus, Zander has witnessed lovers worship each other and the goddess for centuries as he waited to be freed. Finally the day has come and he is able to use the few supernatural gifts the gods have bestowed upon him, but he must determine who houses the soul of his lover, Ciri. Once he finds her, he must foil the plans of their enemy, slay the demigod in human form and end the curse forever.

Genella's Facebook Fan Page

Starting the New Year with A Cat Named Hercules

2012-01-29T00:01:00.063-06:00

The holidays are over and I'm glad to have settled back into my normal routine. Being at my keyboard typing manically is more fun than it is work. As 2012 plays itself out, I will hit a major milestone - ten years as a published writer. I was offered my first contract in December of 2002, although I didn’t sign it until January of 2003. I wrote under a different name in those days. It was [that author] who paid the dues, struggled through the learning curve, and gave me the confidence to continue at my chosen craft.

This business of writing doesn’t allow anyone to rest on his or her laurels. A new year means new ventures and new ways to grow. Some of us might go kicking and screaming into new things, but we know it’s necessary and we eventually come to terms with it. Then there are other things, like becoming a guest blogger with a regular bi-monthly gig that we gleefully take hop into. (Thanks, Brenda!)

These days I’m more settled about writing. I remember the frenzied past with a little sadness. Why did I put myself through all that? All the “must dos” that only served to heap a ton of stress on my head have, thankfully, slipped away although my presence here gives witness that I’m still working to “get my name out there.” I suppose the difference is now I don’t feel like I must blog, I must promo, I must do this, I must do that. No, the only thing I must do is write a good book. That’s a writer’s top priority and all else is filler for those times when my subconscious is simmering the next chapter in the latest work-in-progress.

Looking ahead, I’m not sure where a regular blog column will take me. I’ve read and admired Morgan Ashbury’s “Wednesdays Words” for quite a while now, but my life isn’t ready for that level of commitment. Brenda, our gracious hostess, didn’t set any restrictions on the content of my bi-monthly column, but who wants to simply do promo all the time? And what of a name for this column? Now I have to think about that!

I’ll close this first post with a bit of self-promotion - where you can find me on the Internet, and a bit about my new release, A Cat Named Hercules. And yes, I really did have a cat named Hercules at one point in my life.

KC Kendricks

A CAT NAMED HERCULES

by KC Kendricks

contemporary gay romance

ISBN-13: 978-1-61124-234-8

Available at Amber Allure

New in town, Shiloh Rudy joins a group of civic-minded volunteers to better acquaint himself with his recently adopted community. It’s a good way to make friends, network, and help make a difference, not to mention perhaps meet someone interesting—in a romantic sort of way. The one thing Shiloh didn’t expect was a love to rival all others to come with four white paws.

Gale Widmyer is on his feet and moving forward after piecing his life back together following a series of wrong choices. The one bright spot in his existence, even in his darkest moments, was the fulfillment of his dream to become a veterinarian. Gale’s making good on a promise to himself when an abandoned kitten leads him to Shiloh Rudy and a chance at the happiness he never hoped to have.

Laying the cornerstone for a developing relationship comes easy for Shiloh and Gale. But the wounds of the past often remain unhealed at their deepest point. A few careless words erect a wall of silence between the two men, one Shiloh has to breach if he hopes to win Gale back. But it will take more than apologies to win Gale’s forgiveness and put old fears to rest. It’ll take a cat named Hercules...

INTRO:

…The abrupt weaning I understood, but the other? Who would do that to such a helpless creature? “Then I’m keeping him.”

“In that case, your kitten has fleas, ear mites, and a touch of conjunctivitis. He’s also under nourished and almost surely has worms.”

My heart pounded as I snatched the kitten from Galen’s hands and tucked him safely against my chest. “Is he going to die?”

Galen pushed his sunglasses up to rest on top of his head and grinned at me. I fell into his gorgeous hazel eyes as he stared into my sky blue orbs with open curiosity. Damn, the man had long eyelashes.

“He’ll be fine. Do you think we can finish our chores here this morning, or do we need to go straight to my clinic so I can treat him and fix you up with what you need?” He poked the kitten’s paw and those tiny, wicked claws popped out again. “You’re in for a real treat with this little guy.”

I’d go anywhere he asked me to go, but I didn’t want to appear too eager. “Oh? Why is that?”

“They call cats with these black and white markings a ‘tuxedo’ because, obviously, they look like they’re wearing one. This fellow has the added bonus of white ‘gloves.’ Tuxedos tend to have a lot of personality.” Galen squeezed my elbow. I thought his hand lingered a moment too long, but perhaps it was just wishful thinking.

“C’mon. I’ll tell the other work crew they’ll have to finish pulling up these bricks and we’ll go to the clinic.”

“Thanks, man. I owe you.”

I knew I was in two kinds of trouble when he nodded and grinned. “I’m afraid you will…”

* * * *
Find KC Kendricks on the web at:
Website ~ Blog ~ Twitter ~ Goodreads ~ Facebook ~ MySpace

Kuluski - Cabbage Sausage Stew

2012-01-28T00:01:00.041-06:00

Ingredients

2 pounds Keilbasa Sausage, sliced

1 Medium head of Cabbage, sliced

1 Large Sweet Onion, sliced

3 carrots, shaved into ribbons

1/2 cup butter

2 Tablespoons vegetable oil

salt & pepper to taste

Directions

Brown sausage in oil. Move to 5 quart pot.

Carmelize onions in sausage grease. Add carrots and butter. Cook until tender. Move into pot with sausage.

Add cabbage, salt and pepper to the other ingredients.

Add 1 cup water. Cook low heat until cabbage is cooked down and tender.

(Optional) When cabbage is tender, add dumplings.

Eye Candy: James Purefoy

2012-01-27T00:01:00.050-06:00

I just finished watching Ironclad, and James Purefoy is a man that exudes sex appeal onscreen even when he's not in a sex scene. I first took notice of him in his small part in A Knight's Tale, and since then he has proved to be a perfect fit in all his historical roles. His performances always transport me and I love his often broody expressions. Look for him in Camelot, Rome and Solomon Kane.

Ironclad

Solomon Kane

Oh, You're One of Those People

2012-01-26T00:01:00.039-06:00

“Oh, you’re one of those people.” I hear this phrase so often. Not just because of one passion, but because of two passions.

First, I’m an erotic romance writer. I love writing hot sexy paranormal romances. It’s been my passion for the past ten years. But sometimes when I explain what I write, I get that look. If you’re an erotic author, you know what I mean. It’s the “Oh, you’re one of those people” looks.

But the other reason people refer to me as “one of those people” is because I’m a dog person. You know the kind of person I’m talking about, don’t you? No? Then let me explain.

As a child, I had six dogs. In the middle of a major city. In a very small home. Brought into our home without my parents’ prior approval. But could I help if it dogs followed me home? Especially if I just happened to have a pocketful of sandwich ham? What was I supposed to do once they’d followed me to my backyard? Let them starve or sleep out in the rain and wind? No self-respecting human would. Besides, the dogs got along great with my rooster, lizard, cat and bunny. My dad brought home a horse once—again in the middle of a major city—but that’s a story for another time.

As a teenager, my parents tried to stem my tendencies to bring home animals. During those teen years, I only had two dogs. One was a dog I’d found abandoned on the side of the road, so I had no choice but to bring her home. The other, arriving two years later, was its offspring. Two dogs wasn’t so much, was it? Of course not. But I’m not saying a word about the ten neighborhood cats I’d feed through my bedroom window, hoping Mom and Dad wouldn’t catch me.

As an adult, however, I no longer had to resort to picking up strays or luring dogs home with treats in my pocket. Now I could decide to have as many animals as I wanted. Or at least I thought so until the apartment complex owners frowned on having more than two pets in a one-bedroom apartment. So, to keep from getting rid of my furry loved ones, I asked my other loved ones (Mom and Dad) to adopt several more of my pets. Again, the dogs got along great with the five cats I’d dropped off at their home a month earlier.

Then I got married and I managed to narrow down my animal obsession to keeping only dogs. To this day, my husband won’t let me go near a pet store, contact a breeder, or even look at the cute puppies and kitties at an adoption fair. Cruel, huh? Not so much. He loves our dogs as much as I do, but the man has his limits.

So now I have only four dogs. I’d love to have more, but can’t, so I compensate by writing stories about werewolves, werebears and more. My dogs are, as I tell other authors, the best writing partners I’ve ever had. Every day they sit in my office, two of them claiming my feet as pillows and the others snoring away on the dog bed. I love them as my four additional “kids”—after my real human daughter. Three are Shih-tzus and one is a tiny poodle. But they’re all family to me.

So tell me? Are you one of those people, too?

Sex with a Hex

by Beverly Rae

Available from Samhain Publishing

Also available for the Kindle and the Nook

BLURB

Meg Tristan is spontaneous, spirited, outspoken and beautiful—and she enjoys every second of it. She can have any man she wants, with or without casting a spell. Too bad she hasn’t found one who can keep up with her non-magical sex drive, much less handle her hexual prowess.

When he’s not caring for his patients, Dr. Chance Dannigan spends his off hours getting acquainted with as many women as he can in his new town. None hold his attention—until he catches Meg’s flirtatious glance across the bar. One drink later, he’s sure he’s found the one woman who can stimulate both his heads.

Sensing a kindred spirit, he challenges Meg to a daring competition. Each must choose a random partner for the other, and the one who fails to seduce the target, loses. And to keep it honest? The opponent must witness the act.

Winning each round proves almost too easy. The ultimate challenge is figuring out how to handle their unexpected attraction to each other…and how to end the game without both of them coming out losers.

EXCERPT

For one of the few times in her life, Meg was flummoxed. He obviously wasn’t as enamored with her as she’d thought he was. But even so, she hadn’t expected him say such rude—not to mention incorrect—things about her. “Not choosy? Me? Listen, you jerk—” she stabbed a finger into the middle of his chest and enjoyed his responding move backward, “—I can have any man I want. Anytime, anywhere, any way. And I’m damned selective in who I take to my bed.”

“I’m sure you are.” Chance took a sip and looked away.

Oh, my stars and moon. Is he placating me?

“I am,” she protested, then cringed at the whine in her tone. She was off balance, disturbed and…damn it all, curious as hell.

He turned toward her again, the challenge written on his face. “Right. So, have you taken any of these guys to bed?” He tipped his head toward the crowd.

Meg scanned the people dancing, drinking and having a whole lot more fun than she was having. Yes, she’d had sex with a couple of them. Okay, more than a couple. And, she had to admit, not all of them were winners. But a girl with needs had to do what she had to do, right?

“Not that it’s any of your business, but I know a couple of them and they’re all very nice men.” Ugh, did that sound as lame as she thought it did?

“Right.”

“Will you stop saying that? What point are you trying to make, anyway?” She thought about pushing him off the seat and storming away, but knew it wouldn’t prove anything. Like a spectator drawn to a car crash, she had to see where the conversation led.

“Right. Oops, sorry. There’s that word again. My point is that you can have any man you want.” He cleared his throat, then continued, “As long as that man isn’t too much man for you.”

“Too much man?” Meg scowled, her mind reeling with confusion and disbelief. Did he mean in the bedroom? Was such a thing even possible? Especially if she used magic?

“You know. As in…out of your league.”

“Out of my league?”

“Do you always repeat what people say? Or is what I’m saying upsetting you?” His concerned expression seemed as fake as a three-dollar bill. “I’m sorry if it is, but sometimes the truth is hard to hear.”

A trickle of perspiration crawled down her spine. Had Tom turned off the air conditioning in the club? Or was Chance’s assessment of her—his so off-the-mark assessment—making her sweat? “Are you frickin’ kidding me? Hell, yeah, you’re upsetting me. But not in the way you think.”

The twinkle in his eyes beckoned to her, teasing her, thrilling her against her wishes. “Oh? Then I’m upsetting you in some other way?” His smile grew bright. “Perhaps in a more basic way?” His gaze dropped to her lips.

She sucked in a breath and fought against the sudden desire to pull his mouth to hers. In no way would she let him get the better of her. “Don’t flatter yourself.”

His smile faded, replaced by a brief moment of indecision flickering across his features. “I wouldn’t dare. But I stand by what I said. Still, I apologize. I tend to be blunt even when I shouldn’t.”

Anger, more intense than ever, flared, taking her past the edge of reason. She lost control, no longer caring about anything other than proving him wrong.

Almost as quickly as the argument had started, Chance leaned back, his voice taking on a more conciliatory tone. “Hey, I’m sorry I’ve upset you. I certainly didn’t mean to.”

Meg unclenched her hands, noticed how they shook, then fisted them again. Maybe she should cut him a little slack since he was new in town. Just this once. “Yeah, well—”

“Listen, there’s no shame in going home alone. I mean if you strike out, you strike out.”

Then again, maybe she shouldn’t. “Let’s get this straight, Doc. I never strike out. And no one is out of my league.” She threw back her shoulders and tossed her hair, ready to take the discussion to whatever length she had to. Anything to get him to admit he was wrong.

For a few blessed moments, they sat in silence. How had she ever found this guy appealing? He was one of those men who looked great on the outside but was awful on the inside. Like the mud-filled pies she used to trick her sisters with when they were kids. So why was she letting him get to her?

“You know what? Never mind. Just move over and let me out. I don’t know why I agreed to sit with you in the first place.” Meg shoved him, giving him no choice but to do as she demanded. She scooted out of the booth as fast as she could.

“Oh, I see. So you’re afraid.”

She’d already started to fast track away from him but had no alternative but to turn and face him again. “Me? Afraid? Of what?”

“Of the truth, of course. Of finding out that you can’t get any man you want.”

She stomped back to him and wagged a finger in front of his face. “Is that so? Well, what about you? Can you say the same, Mr. Sweet-Talker? Can you get a smokin’ hot woman every night? I don’t think so. Not with your mouth.”

“Well, I don’t want to brag, but I’ve never been turned down.” Chance flashed his pearly whites at her again.

“Really? Never?” She scoffed, narrowed her eyes and aimed for the jugular. “Prove it.”

“I will if you will.”

Chance leaned away from her with a confident expression that sent a shiver down her spine. Suddenly, she really was afraid. Of him? Definitely not. Afraid of having bitten off more than she could chew? Maybe.

And yet she couldn’t deny what was happening inside her. She hated it, but there it was. She was more turned on than she’d been in years. Hell, in forever.

She shook off the feeling and concentrated on studying him. He’d dared her, but was that really what he wanted? Or was he baiting her for a different reason? Still, she’d never backed down from a challenge and she wasn’t about to start now.

“You’re on, Doc.” A tickle of excitement at the idea of a competition with the handsome doctor filtered into Meg’s irritation, defraying a small part of her anger. Someone needed to bring him down a peg and she was just the woman to do it. Yet when his cat-ate-the-canary smile grew into a wide grin, she couldn’t help but think she’d gotten cornered.

“Great. Game on. Of course, we’re going to need a few rules.”

She crossed her arms and glared at him. “Of course. And why do I get the impression that you already know what those rules are?”

He lifted his drink to her in a toast. “You’re not only beautiful, but smart. And, if my judgment serves me, also very clever.”

“Well, at least your judgment isn’t always out of whack.”

He laughed, the sound drawing the attention of the few women in the room who weren’t already drooling over him. “Okay, here are the rules for our little game. I choose the men you have to bed and you choose the women I have the pleasure of seducing. The first one who fails to get the selected subject in bed loses.”

“Wait. You’re going to choose the men I take to my bed?”

Those dark, soulful eyes glittered at her, sucking her in. “And you’ll choose the women I take to mine. That’s fair, isn’t it? How else can I be satisfied that your sex partner is up to snuff and not just some pushover you’ve already slept with?”

Now he’s calling me a cheater. Meg drew in two slow breaths, resolved to maintain control. Of course, if she slipped and accidentally kicked his shin she couldn’t be held responsible, could she? Instead, she gritted her teeth, grinding out her words. “And I choose the women so you don’t slip in an old girlfriend or a partner-for-pay.”

He flattened his hand over his heart. “Would I do such a thing?”

She arched an “oh wouldn’t you?” eyebrow. “And no matter who I choose, you have to get her to have sex with you. Have I got this right?”

“You do. Of course, you’ll want to select gorgeous subjects just as I’ll choose men I consider to be not only handsome but—hmm, how should I put this?—discerning. Then, as I mentioned, the first person who fails to seduce the chosen subject loses the challenge. Simple really.”

Meg narrowed her eyes at him, unable to shake the feeling that she’d gotten trapped into his game. A game he knew all too well. Yet, from her perspective, he was the poor schmuck who didn’t know what he’d walked into. She didn’t doubt her charms, but she could always use magic—if she had to. “Okay. But one thing. What do I get when I win?”

She had to admit she liked his laugh. Even when he was laughing at her.

“You’re that sure of yourself, huh?”

“I’m sure of myself for good reason. So how about this? When I win, you have to come back to the club, climb up on top of the bar and announce to everyone that I am the sexiest woman in the world who can get any man she wants. Plus, you have to tell everyone that you’re brokenhearted—” she paused for full effect, “—because I don’t want you.”

He chuckled, giving her a taste of his compelling laugh again. “Done. And when I win, you have to cook and serve me dinner at my place. Dressed in a French maid’s uniform.”

Meg grimaced at the image. “I don’t have a maid’s uniform.”

“Then I suggest you’d better buy one.”

“Now who’s sure of himself?” But why should she worry? She had this competition all sewn up, hands down. “Never mind. I don’t have to worry about losing. Is that everything or are you planning on bringing in referees?”

His chuckle was low, throaty and as sexy as they come. “No need for refs. But there is one other condition.”

Ignoring the signals of desire her body insisted on sending her, Meg fisted her hands on her hips and put on her best evil smile. He had a trick up his sleeve, no doubt. “I should have known. What now?”

“You can’t simply say you had sex, you have to prove it.”

A wave of heat swept through her, almost melting her knees and bringing her to the floor. Down, girl. He may be hot as hell, but he threw down the gauntlet and you have no intention of losing. Remember: He’s the competition. “And how do you suggest we prove it to each other?”

“Easy. We get to watch.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Beverly Rae
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Beverly Rae's Fantasies

Our Chemical Attraction to Men

2012-01-25T00:01:00.032-06:00

Why do we love men? I am not a scientific person at all, but since I’ve hit my forties, I’ve firmly decided it’s purely chemical. We can’t help it. What else explains our attraction to a gender that looks so much better than us—effortlessly—most of the time? A case in point. A friend recently showed me a photograph she had taken with Mark Harmon at his annual Oklahoma City charity event. Gazing at his handsome face, which is SEVENTEEN years older than mine, I marveled at how he looked just like he does when I watch NCIS. “Yes,” my friend gushed. “He wears no makeup on the set, either. That’s just how he looks.”

Have you ever noticed on TV or in movies, when the actress wakes up in the morning, you can tell her hair has been styled to look “artfully” tousled, and she’s definitely wearing base, eye shadow, eye liner, etc? The handsome guy looks like a guy waking up early in the morning – tousled, sleepy-eyed, unshaven and still handsome. Without her makeup team, the actress would be a washed out dish rag with electric-socket hair. That’s no offense to her; it’s simply how we are, with our thin skin that, to paraphrase Dolly Parton, shows every footprint of the march of time. Including the last hour, day, week, etc. Snort.

Same issue for the big fight/action scenes. The actor arrives, shirt half torn off (thank you for that – there’s those chemicals again), rolled in ash, blood - hell, it could be pig poop, and that would be fine. We’d still jump him in a heartbeat. She arrives with a couple tiny rips to her clothes, again an “artful” smudge of blood or dirt, but nothing that interferes with the overall packaging. As I’ve said in other blogs, a woman actually rolled in dirt and blood appears exactly like you’d expect – someone who needs a shower. Desperately.

My husband has gone 95% gray at this point. Beautifully layered, silvery gray hair that’s soft as a baby’s and coaxes the touch. My gray hairs arrived in erratic clumps that feel like spiked tumbleweeds when making contact with human skin. When I wake up in the morning and roll over to eye his sleeping form, I sometimes have an insidious desire to put a pillow over his head.

About the time the urge overwhelms me though, he opens his eyes and smiles at me. This look fills his brown eyes, the one that says, “you are my everything”. At that point, he’ll say something like “You’re more beautiful now than ever.” Hmmm. Okay, some things might be chemicals, but the little leap in the heart – that might be something else. He’s staved off the pillow treatment for another day.

My thoughts about this were inspired by my upcoming release, Something About Witches, because Ruby and Derek get into a lot of fights. Not just with each other (grin), but also with demons from the Underworld. There’s blood, gore, slime, smoke, etc. However, the advantage to the written word versus the movies is I don’t need a makeup and hair team. I can make sure Ruby looks just as jumpable as Derek, no matter the scene, and of course Ruby (as well as Derek) is very appreciative of that!

Anyhow, I hope you all have a wonderful 2012, full of lots of positive chemical attractions (wink). The following gives you some more info about the upcoming book, as well as a link to a free excerpt!

GIVEAWAY: If you leave a comment or question, you’ll be eligible for a random drawing to win a book-of-your-choice from my titles, which includes this one.

Joey W. Hill

Something About Witches

by Joey W. Hill

BLURB:

Ruby Night Divine is a gun shop owner. She’s also a witch who knows magic can fail. She’s experienced it firsthand, with full-blown tragic consequences. Smith & Wesson is a whole hell of a lot more reliable, and nothing’s as cathartic as the ability to put a few holes in the things that piss you off. Like Derek Stormwind.

A powerful sorcerer, Derek is determined to get to the bottom of why she pushed him away and ran three years before. He also needs her help. A coven needs training to help them fight a demon and his minions. While Ruby is willing to do it, she’s sure it’s just a ruse to get back in her heart—and her bed. The thing is, that’s where she wants him. Unfortunately, her bed’s already made, she’s this close to losing her soul, and she fears nothing can save her. Not Derek. Not even Smith & Wesson.

Click here for free Excerpt. Click here for Amazon buy link.

The Myth About Being Liked (on Facebook)

2012-01-23T00:01:00.013-06:00

These days it seems everyone is after "social proof," that elusive number of Likes or Followers that will make you seem part of the "in crowd." Unfortunately getting someone to like you is only half the battle, you must now get them to stay "in like" with you.

Studies show that the expectation of content does vary by age, but the direction is still the same: it's more than just getting someone to "Like" your page, you now must learn how to keep them. With all the social media options out there it's critical to not just build numbers, but maintain them, too. In order to do this, it's important to know what users want and when they want to see you post new content.

As I pointed out earlier, content expectations vary by age. For example, Facebook users between the ages of 18-26 have the lowest expectations of receiving something in exchange for their "Like" endorsement. When you go up the next rung, ages 27 to 34, they are more likely to expect something solid delivered in a Facebook update. But the users with the highest expectations, and those you are likely serving, is the 35-51 age group. This is also the group most likely to unlike a brand if it fails to meet expectations.

But it's not only about having great content, it's also about creating great engagement. A study done by Roost.com evaluated 10,000 Facebook fans across 50 industries and found that certain posts leverage more engagement than others. Here are some of their findings:

* Photo posts get 50% more impressions than any other type of post

* Quotes get 22 percent more interactions

* Questions generate almost twice as many comments

* Ask questions to spark dialog (questions often see twice as many comments) and consider fill in the blank posts which tend to receive 9 times more comments than other posts

Now you have the content down, and you know about the types of posts that will get more play than others, is there more to posting than just content and post-type? You bet. There are also time-specific posts that often do better than others. Here are some quick tips on how to improve your Facebook Wall posts:

* Posts delivered between 8 p.m. and 7 a.m. tend to receive 20% higher user engagement

* Best day for Fan engagement? Wednesday - up by 8%

* How many posts does it take to increase user engagement? If you're thinking more frequent posts you are wrong. Posting one to two times per day produces 71% higher user engagement.

* When it comes to Facebook more is not better, sometimes it's just more. Posting with 80 characters or less receives 66% higher engagement. Very concise posts, between one and 40 characters, generate the highest engagement.

Finally, users do vary. How can you really know if your fans are engaged with your content?

Understanding Facebook Content Interaction

Fan Pages now have a fabulous feature called Facebook Insights. Head on over there for some really interesting information and insightful (hence the name) data.

First, you can find Insights on the left side of your page. Once you're there you can see all sorts of data on the information you post.

1) Reach: This is the number of unique people who have seen the post for 28 days after publishing the post.

2) Engaged Users: These are people who have engaged with your post in some way: i.e. clicked the link.

3) Talking about this: This is an interesting number and you've no doubt seen this pop up right under your "Likes." These actions are: liking the post, commenting, sharing the post, responding to a question, or RSVPing to an event.

4) Virality: This is the number of people who have created a story from your page post.

Watch these numbers for some great insight into what fires up your fans and what leaves them cold.

It's not just about getting "Liked," it's about staying "Liked." Creating insightful, helpful, and engaging content is one piece to the puzzle, the other is timing and receptiveness of your fans. Though I've outlined 'general' user guidelines in this piece, be sure to check the Facebook Insights for key data that will help your fan base thrive!

Quick Ways to Promote your Facebook Fan Page

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

* Put your Fan Page URL in your signature line

* Email your newsletter list

* Add a Facebook Fan widget to your blog and website

* Add your Fan Page URL to your biz cards

* Tweet the link to your followers

* Notify your "Friends" on your personal profile that you now have a Fan Page

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Reprinted from "The Book Marketing Expert newsletter," a free ezine offering book promotion and publicity tips and techniques. http://www.amarketingexpert.com

Eye Candy: Rob Lowe

2012-01-22T00:01:00.009-06:00

From Idea to Completion: The Birth of a Novel

2012-01-21T00:01:00.076-06:00

On a recent discussion on facebook, I was asked to talk a little bit about my writing process. I thought this was an interesting topic, because the path from idea to finished book is unique for each author. Sometimes it’s unique for each story. I thought I’d share with you today the process of how I came up with the idea for my latest release, Velvet Steel, and how I developed that idea into the story that released on January 17th.

Every writer has different things that inspire their muse. My muse likes to have drinks with my husband. :p After a couple of glasses of wine we end up having these odd conversations. After a few more drinks we end up making outrageous dares of one another. The idea for Velvet Steel came from a dare I made my husband to come up with the most outrageous title for a story in publishing history. He thought for about five seconds before he said “Velvet Steel.”

I said the idea had potential, but what would the story be about? He said that it would be about a steel company owned by the Velvet family.

It was in that moment that Velvet Steel was born.

I wrote the idea down in the “idea” folder on the computer, and for the next month I rolled the concept around in my subconscious.

Then Loose Id had a submissions call for “Battle of the Sexes” themed stories. These were stories where the hero and heroine were at odds throughout the story. Whether it was competing companies, opposing teams, or opposite sides of an issue, they wanted stories where the main characters were locked in a battle.

I had my conflict. What if the owners of Velvet Steel were at odds with a competing company?

After some more thought, I had the characters in my head. I headed over to babynames.com and found names for my characters. I knew I wanted it to be a ménage, and the more I thought about it, the more it seemed like the two male leads needed to have a relationship of their own. I thought about the story some more, and then plotted it out.

From here on in, my writing process is always the same for every book. After plotting, I know about how long it is going to be and then fit it into my writing schedule. When it comes time to draft (which can be anywhere from two weeks to one year later), I go over the plot and do what is known as a “fast draft.” Here I write as much as I can, as fast as I can. The idea is to just get the story out on paper. It’s messy, very messy. There are plot holes and character inconsistencies. Half the time my characters are just talking heads, no personality, no spark. Depending on the length, this could take me anywhere from one day (~5k) to a month (~50k).

Then, if I’m not under deadline, I let it sit for at least a week. This is important, because I don’t want to be too close to the story when I start the edits.

I make a first pass of the story. This is where the real work begins. I add description and setting. I give the characters personality and smooth my transitions. I fix dialogue and mannerisms. I layer in foreshadowing and symbolism, then fix inconsistencies. Depending on length, this can take anywhere from three days to one month.

Then I make a final pass. Here the reading is smoother and I fix spelling, grammar, and any small stuff I missed the first time around. Then I format according to the publishing house’s style and voila! It’s finished.

From start to finish, it takes me ~4 weeks to write a 20-30k novella, and 6-8 weeks for a category length novel. Single title stories take me about 10 weeks to complete. If I’m not under deadline, I’ll work on three stories at a time: one in edits, one in drafting, and one in the plotting stage. If there’s a deadline then I’ll work on one story exclusively.

So there you have it. This is how I write. I should add that this is how I write NOW. Writing habits can change over time. My process in 2012 isn’t the same process I had in 2011, or 2010. As my career evolved my process changed to meet the changing demands. I’m constantly tweaking the process to make it fit changes in lifestyle or my career plan. I’m sure if you ask me a year from now what my process is, it will be slightly different from the plan I’ve outlined today.

What do you think? Does it make sense or do you think I’m nuts? :p If you’re a writer, do you have a similar method? Where do you get your ideas?

In the meantime, here’s a little bit about my new release, Velvet Steel…

Suzanne Rock

Love Immortalized, Destinies Fulfilled

Velvet Steel

by Suzanne Rock

ISBN: 978-1-61118-737-3

Available from Loose Id

BLURB:

Shane and Noah set out to seduce Kitty Velvet into selling them her family’s struggling steel company on their terms. They plan a weekend of deception and sexual adventure to convince her to give up the business she had spent her life keeping afloat. As they begin their passionate getaway, things don’t go as planned. Instead of putting their rival out of business, they gain deeper feelings for the feisty blond – and for each other. With their world upside down, Shane and Noah must now decide if business ambitions are worth losing a chance at something bigger than money, and more precious than owning a steel empire.

Kitty has worked hard to keep Velvet Steel afloat, but changing technologies and the growth of their rivals have made the company’s continued viability almost impossible. As she embarks on an erotic weekend to distress and regroup, she develops feelings for two strangers who turn out to be the very men who had made her life a living hell for the past year. Is saving her family business worth losing her only chance at love?

EXCERPT:

“Well, Ms. Kitty, would you like to dance?” Shane asked.

“Don’t be silly, Shane, of course the lady would like to dance.” Noah stood, blocking her view of the dance floor. “She wouldn’t be here otherwise, would she?”

Kitty agreed. “You want me to dance with both of you?”

“Would you prefer only one of us?” Shane’s eyes twinkled with mischief.

“I --” She shifted her gaze between the men. While Shane was broad and rugged, Noah was long and lean. Black hair, cut on the short side, curled around his ears and gave him a scholarly appearance. There was nothing scholarly about his body, however. Hard and chiseled, Noah looked like one of those international soccer players she liked to watch during the World Cup.

“I’ve heard dancing with two men can be more…stimulating.” Noah’s voice trickled over her like a caress. “Isn’t that right, Shane?”

Kitty noticed how Noah’s voice hardened on his friend’s name and stifled a wince. How could she be such an idiot? She had probably offended them. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to --”

Shane glanced at his friend and frowned. “No, we are the ones who are sorry.” He removed his fingers from her thigh and smiled. “A beautiful lass like you probably has a man waiting for her.”

“No, no man.”

“Good.” Shane’s features softened as he brushed her cheek with his knuckle. “Then you have no excuse not to dance” -- he flicked his gaze to Noah -- “with both of us.” He returned his attention to her. “Come on.” He stood and held out his hand.

This was so sudden. Kitty had a ritual. First she’d have her martini and evaluate the crowd; then she’d pick out someone who seemed nonthreatening. Then she’d approach him and offer to buy him a drink.

“Come on.” Shane winked and tugged her to her feet. “I promise you won’t regret it.”

Kitty stared at Shane’s back as the men led her away from the table. This whole thing seemed surreal. Taboo was infamous for its sexually charged atmosphere. Stepping on the dance floor was like taking part in an orgy without actually having sex. No, sex was saved for the reserved areas and VIP rooms upstairs. The dance floor was for displaying a person’s sexual prowess and for capturing a lover for the evening.

Soon she would be joining the erotic fray -- with two dance partners. The thought of the three of them pressed close together caused her skin to tingle with anticipation. It would be different. Exciting. Just what she needed to forget about her father and Velvet Steel.

Shane dropped her hand and started to move. Kitty stood, stunned at the large man’s gracefulness. Shane seemed like he had been born on the dance floor.

Noah stepped up from behind and touched her shoulder. “Go on, don’t be shy.”

Kitty closed her eyes and concentrated on the techno beat, letting it infuse her body. Gradually the weight of the world fell away, and she became light-headed. She tilted her head back and lifted her arms in silent salutation to the strobe lights above.

First she swayed her hips. When she found the rhythm, she swished her arms in time to the music. It was divine. She let the music lift her spirit up into the rafters and blank her mind to all but the steady thrum of the beat.

Shane snaked his arm around her waist and pulled her close. She could tell it was Shane because his broad chest surrounded her in heat and sexual energy. Noah’s thinner frame could never pull off such a feat. She felt good in Shane’s arms. Safe. Her position as the CEO’s daughter had forced her to have a tough-as-nails attitude, but now, with these men close to her, Kitty felt herself letting go, becoming more malleable, submissive. She wanted to lean into all that hard muscle and cocoon herself away from the world, if only for a little while. Kitty molded her body against his and let herself become lost in the music.

Shane’s grip tightened. “You smell like cherries.” He slipped his knee between her legs.

“My shampoo.” What made her say that? It didn’t matter. She pressed her breasts harder against his chest. She could feel the rise and fall of his chest. It felt so intimate. Their hips began to move as one. Heat poured through her body as she rubbed her thighs against the rough fabric of his jeans. She imagined herself, legs spread, his hard cock thrusting deep inside her body. Would he be gentle like the man she’d found the last time she was in the club? She hoped not. All week Kitty had had to make tough decisions for work. Tonight she wanted to be controlled and dominated. She didn’t want to have to think.

Shane leaned forward and traced the rim of her earlobe with his tongue. “You taste good enough to eat.”

Another hard body pressed against her back. “Let me try, Shane.” Noah kissed the base of her neck. Kitty moaned as liquid heat shot through her center and settled between her thighs. How did these men know just what she wanted? Kitty's skin tingled as every inch came into contact with hard, male muscle. She felt as if she were drowning in testosterone, and God help her, she loved it.

“You’re right. She is sweet.” Noah repeated the kiss, this time letting his tongue linger on her skin. “She purrs just like a kitten too.”

Kitty’s lower abdomen clenched, and her thighs became damp with need. She closed her eyes and bit back a groan as Noah’s lips once again brushed her skin.

“How interesting.” Shane inched his hand down until it rested on her hip. “I wonder if you can make her purr louder so I can hear it better over the music.”

“It would be my pleasure.” Noah wrapped his hand around her middle and slid his fingers under her top.

Kitty opened her eyes in surprise. His touch felt warm, much warmer than she'd expected in the air-conditioned club. She held her breath as Noah eased his hand under her bra.

"Oh, Shane, you need to feel this," he said.

Shane arched his brow and leaned back to study her face. "Too much for you, lass?"

Kitty slowly shook her head. It wasn't too much to have these two men surrounding her. In fact, it felt just right.

Shane smiled. "Good, because Noah and I are just beginning."

_______________________________________________

Suzanne Rock Bio:

After over a decade in the scientific world, Suzanne needed a creative outlet. She tried scrap booking, cooking, crocheting, painting, and piano, none of which held her interest for very long. Then one of her friends suggested writing. Thrilled with the idea of creating her own worlds, she opened up her lap top and never looked back.

When Suzanne’s not writing, she can be found playing with her two daughters, testing her husband’s latest kitchen creations, or curled up with her favorite romance novel in her central Massachusetts home.

Website ~ Facebook ~ Twitter ~ Linked In
Online Writing Classes ~ Books on Writing (with Em Petrova) ~ Free Reads
Kyron Pack Series (werewolf) ~ Unholy Series (demons)
Immortal Ream Series (a little bit of everything paranormal)

Valentine's Day Chocolate Truffles

2012-01-20T00:01:00.001-06:00

Valentine's Day is less than a month away. Have you thought about your plan? Are you wondering what sweet you can get for your sweetie? Buying flowers and candy is the traditional thing, yet so cliche. Why not do something extra special like pick some flowers, even wildflowers will do. And if you're in snow country, there are still live plants out there that have flowers or pretty leaves. Next make your own chocolate confections. Here's a recipe for one decadent chocolate treat. Holds up well in the freezer, so it's perfect to make ahead.

Chocolate Truffles

8 ounces semi sweet chocolate chips

12 ounces milk chocolate chips

8 ounces cream cheese

2 ounces white melting chocolate
Red food coloring

Melt semi sweet chocolate.
Beat cream cheese adding melted chocolate until well blended.
Refrigerate until firm.
Shape into 4 dozen balls.

Melt milk chocolate chips.
Dip balls and sit on wax paper.

Melt white chocolate, add food coloring to desired pinkness.
Drizzle on coated balls.

Let dry and then transfer to container.
Freeze or refrigerate.

Can You Promote Your Book Too Much?

2012-01-19T00:01:00.058-06:00

Apparently you can. At least when it comes to some readers. I happened upon a post thread on an obscure forum where a disscussion took place about spam. We all know what that is -- unwanted, annoying email. As I scanned the page, one word captured my attention- WRITER.

I found myself reading more of the thread and discovered there are readers that don't appreciate constant updates from writers, and they go as far as to say the spam from some writer's has totally turned them off from wanting to read those writer's books.

Key points they were against:

1. Getting numerous emails from an author just because they are in the author's address book.

So authors, if you are guilty of sending emails to every person you've ever had contact with, you may be losing readers.

2. Signed up to Newsletters without permission.

Authors, make sure you don't add anyone's email address to your newsletter list that hasn't asked. Double opt-in is the best way to go with through email services. Otherwise, if you're doing the adding, be sure to send them an email, reminding them why they are being signed up, ie contest entry, book giveaway, etc.

3. Repeated posts on the same topic.

In other words, don't keep posting the same excerpts and the same news on the same group more than once a week, or every week for months. Readers find that boring, annoying and time comsuming.

Wednesday's Words, by Morgan Ashbury

2012-01-18T00:01:00.010-06:00

In all likelihood, my perspective, on this topic, is skewed.

My father died when I was 8 and a half years old. That one traumatic event impacted my life as a child and continues to do so to this very day. I can tell you, quite honestly, that from the moment my father passed away, I lived in terror that my mother would die, too.

Thirteen years later, she did, and I was orphaned at the tender age of 21.

Losing my parents when I was young, therefore, has given me a bias on the subject that's been on my mind these last few days. That subject is how we, as a society, treat our elderly.

I've seen a few cases first hand of people traversing a path I never had the opportunity to follow; that of adults having to deal with their elderly parents.

I'm not sure I understand why one would "handle" their parents by sticking them in a "seniors' care facility".

Yes, I know that sometimes there really is no choice. If our loved one needs more care, especially medical care, than we're capable of giving, for example, then I can understand the need for using this alternative. But in my mind, and in my heart—unless the senior in question truly wants to go and live in such a place—this should be a last resort.

I've known of a few families who have "sent mom to the home". The parent was old, and moved slowly, but was not really sick, and not really in need of constant medical supervision. Yet plop, plop, there went the poor grannies dropped off to live in a small room, surrounded by other small rooms, to be tended to by strangers for the rest of their lives.

Is this another case of Morgan being overly naive again? Maybe it is easy for me to talk, as I'll never have to back up my words with actions. But, don't we owe our parents every bit of care and attention we can give them? Don't we owe them some of ourselves?

See, I can't decide if the trend—taking your aging parent to a facility for them to live out what's left of their lives—is motivated by laziness, carelessness, or some immature desire for payback. I'm just a bit cynical that this action is taken to be in the very best interest of the elderly person in question.

I've seen firsthand the heartbreak that comes to a person whose children more or less abandon them to live among strangers.

How can anyone do that to their mother? This is the same woman who carried them in her womb for nine months; who gave birth in a fog of pain, eschewing drugs in case those drugs brought harm to the baby.

Mothers and fathers are very special, and very precious. You only ever really have one of each in your life.

There are cases when there are few alternatives. In this age of two-career households, it might be a challenge leaving an elderly person alone all day. I get that. Of course there are agencies who specialize in home visits, people who for a very reasonable fee will come by as often as you need them to, to see to it all is well with granny.

I have no doubt that it could be a challenge incorporating an elderly parent into your household. It would require patience and care and maybe a little juggling. I also bet it would be quite a bit of work, having an extra person to see to. It certainly wouldn't meet anyone's definition of easy.

Just as, I imagine, it was some work, and challenge, and frustrating for that parent to have taken care of you.

I'm sad that as a society, and in this area, we allow ourselves the opportunity to choose between doing what is right and doing what is expedient.

Because I am a great believer in the law of sewing and reaping, I would like to add this caution. As you deal with your elderly parents, your children are watching and taking notes.

Love,

Morgan

Love Under Two Navy Seals

by Cara Covington

Available from Bookstrand

With Julia back home safely, the SEALs know their enemy will strike again. But as the men of Lusty gather to entrap the villain, it is the women who take the biggest stand—and the biggest risk.

Eye Candy: Spartacus / Liam McIntyre

2012-01-17T00:01:00.008-06:00

Did this Cat not have his Milk yet?

2012-01-16T12:01:00.001-06:00

EXTREME Couponing - Is it the new form of Hoarding?

2012-01-15T00:01:00.107-06:00

I've become an avid watcher of Extreme Couponing, still mystified by how these coupon clippers can buy thousands of grocies and household goodies for pennies on the dollar. Oh wait, one of the last ones I saw had a 0 balance before taxes. Which is another mystery for me to solve - How do you have tax on $0? Isn't it just like the government to find a way to get money out of me. It's a shame with all their ingenious ways to tax us, that our government is still in debt.

Anyways, setting that aside for another time, lets discuss hoarding. I also watch the show Hoarders. I can relate. I like to collect stuff, so I understand how it can snowball out of control. My hoarding tendencies are genetic. I have a releative that was a full blown hoarder. Not that she 'd call herself that. However, age and frailty got in her way and she's hoard-free now.

As for couponing-the popularity in using coupons has always been there. Who doesn't like to save some money. For years I used them. I especially liked when the coupons had no expiration dates and most grocery stores doubled your coupons. I envy those people that live in areas that still have stores doubling their coupons. That seemed to disappear in my neck of the woods.

While I enjoy a good bargain, I'm stunned by the extreme couponer's wearhousing their purchases in their houses. Shelves of laundry detergent, condiments, canned good, paper supplies, etc, line the walls of their homes so they look like they live in the center of a Sam's Club or Costco. Maybe I'm not the first to say this, but how far will they go in stockpiling? And while it may be neatly organized now, when will the pile fall to a heap and the couponers return to the limelight as hoarders?

PS: The photo is my hoard and I'm not embarrassed to admit it.

VENTING Online, Anywhere, Anytime..... NO WAY!

2012-01-14T00:01:00.001-06:00

What is venting?

When someone whines, complains or rants about their feelings.

I've been around for awhile in the Internet world. I've seen flaming word wars, hurtful commentary and venting.

None of it is helpful for the poster's reputation -- none! For writer's it can be detrimental to their career.

What you complain about can turn away potential friends, book buyers, editors, and publishers. Maybe they have their own problems and see yours as trite. Maybe they're not sympathetic to your gripe. Maybe a potential co-worker will remember.

Example 1: You complain about an editor. Someone in the group you are venting to is best-friends with that editor. Your editor mysteriously drops you.

Example 2: You complain about a publisher's policy on a publisher's list. The publisher reads and views you as a complainer. Your book contract isn't renewed.

Example 3: You whine about your book sales. The publisher is brought aware that maybe you're not a good investment.

You don't think people take that much notice, but they do. And the more often you vent, the more you will be remembered, and not in a good way.

When is it good to vent? Always. While venting to friends and family can relieve stress, it's not your best choice to do so online. Sure, you have friends and colleagues that will understand and sympathize, and know exactly what you mean, because they've been in the same position. But if your venting isn't one-on-one with someone, such as in an instant message or an email, then you've opened yourself up to getting a bad reputation?

Think about what you're ranting about on a google or yahoo group, a Facebook or a MySpace page, or tweeting to friends on twitter? Is it something that can ding your career?

Not everyone is interested in your diatribe. And while you feel your little clique of people in a chat group, a blog, network or website will be on your side, what are they really thinking about you?

Fragments of posts can be found in search engines, even on the best closed networks out there. Think before you vent your frustrations, and if you feel that need to share, make sure you leave out your angry emotions. Stating facts can help make you sound like the professional that people want to know.

The NEW YEAR for a new you is here!

Eye Candy: Scott Caan

2012-01-12T00:01:00.000-06:00

Wednesday's Words, by Morgan Ashbury

2012-01-11T00:01:00.032-06:00

It's amazing how quickly life returns to normal, isn't it? Everyone's back at work or school now, most of the television series have returned to new episodes, and politics is the word of the day on the Sunday morning talking heads.

I have to confess I don't follow American politics as closely as I used to. Heck, I don't follow Canadian politics, either. Maybe my inner curmudgeon is not only no longer inner but aggressively outspoken. It just seems to me that everyone can talk the talk, but no one can walk the walk.

I'd much rather read a book—or write one. Or spend time with the newest members of my family.

I don't know if I mentioned it, but my daughter got herself a new pet a few months ago—not another cat, surprisingly, but a dog.

Well, it's advertised as being a dog, but I call it a puppy-cat. It's a Chihuahua, and her name is Bella.

She got the puppy when it was just 9 weeks old. Because of the breed, and because we live in Ontario, Canada, of course the dog needs to have a wardrobe.

She has sweaters, and coats. My daughter tried to get it to wear little booties, but frankly, that just wasn't happening. In October, Bella had a Halloween costume. Yes, she went around dressed up to look like a green caterpillar.

My daughter is devoted to this animal, and the dog adores her right back. That's probably the major difference between the two major species of domestic pets.

Dogs—even ones who come disguised as puppy cats—tend to be more affectionate toward and more dependent upon humans than cats are. I've always said the major difference is that dogs have masters, while cats have staff.

One good thing about my daughter having a puppy is, she won't let it wander free the way the cats have, so I won't soon get a new boarder here. The down side of that is, there have been a few times over the last couple of months when my husband and I have been asked to "puppy sit".

When she asks, I always tell her to ask her father. My position is logical. I was the one who did all the child care and housekeeping while holding an outside job. Any grandchild entertaining—be it a human, feline or canine grandchild—is up to him.

He sometimes grumbles, but then I look and see he has the puppy-cat on his lap, sound asleep.

The only problem my daughter had with the new family member is that her puppy tended to demand all of her attention—very much like a little child. On her days off, she found it difficult to get anything done as Bella wanted to play all the time.

I thought the solution to this would come with time and patience and training. My daughter, however, had another idea. She decided that what the puppy really needed was a baby sister.

If Bella, by virtue of her size is a puppy-cat, then Ivy, the new Chihuahua most definitely qualifies as a puppy-rat. Don't worry, my daughter takes very good care of them both, and Bella seems delighted to have a baby sister. Jenny laughs, of course, at the names I have given the two canines.

As you might imagine, when it comes to my daughter, the apple didn't fall far from the tree. I have been given a new title in the family, too.

Apparently, I am now Grandma-puppy.

For anyone who's interested, I've posted a picture of Bella the puppy-cat on my blog. The address is below.

Love,

Morgan

Love Under Two Navy Seals

by Cara Covington

Available from Bookstrand

With Julia back home safely, the SEALs know their enemy will strike again. But as the men of Lusty gather to entrap the villain, it is the women who take the biggest stand—and the biggest risk.

What Do You Mean, Retired?

2012-01-10T00:01:00.050-06:00

Hello, and thank you so much for having me. I’m certainly glad my mother taught me to say that as soon as I could talk, because when you have a new book out and you’re bouncing around the internet like a well-endowed cyber-jogger, it’s important to remember.

Speaking of jogging…well, no, I don’t, but I’ve certainly gotten well acquainted with the joys of walking. I always liked it, but until I retired in February of 2011 and gained 15 pounds in as many minutes—no, I’m not exaggerating; I swear that’s how it was!—I never took walking very seriously. I should also admit that the 15 pounds was just icing on the three-layer cake I was already wearing around my waist.

A mile or so down the road from us is the Nickel Plate Trail, where the Rails to Trails people have turned 40 miles of unused rail-beds into a paved and picturesque walking / bicycling path. After I’d joined Weight Watchers (and weighed in—oh, the angst!), I hauled my lumpy body to the Nickel Plate and told myself I couldn’t go home for at least a half hour.

Several panting months (and 42 pounds) later, I seldom miss a day on the trail and my walk has gone from a reluctant mile to an enthusiastic three. My wardrobe is not only smaller, but includes a rain suit, a fleece jacket, special shoes, walking socks, gloves, and long underwear. I have a can of pepper spray and one of those hats that look so goofy they’re almost cute. Well, actually, on a 61-year-old grandmother, it just looks goofy, but it’s warm.

The best part of the whole thing is that I feel like a million bucks. One of my big concerns when I retired from the day job was that I would just, you know, sit there and wait till it was time for the next doctor’s appointment. And maybe even be bored, something I had never encountered much of.

I still haven’t. Mostly, I don’t have time to sit or to be bored—I’m having too good of a good time. So, if you’re ever on the Nickel Plate, give me a call!

My book—you knew there’d be a commercial, didn’t you?—is available at Carina Press, Barnes and Noble and Amazon

I’d love to have you visit my website or blog where I hang out with some of my best writer friends.

Liz Flaherty

One More Summer

by Liz Flaherty

Electronic ISBN: 9781426893018

Carina Press

BLURB:

Grace has taken care of her widowed father her entire adult life and the ornery old goat has finally died. She has no job, no skills and very little money, and has heard her father's prediction that no decent man would ever want her so often she accepts it as fact.

But she does have a big old house on Lawyers Row in Peacock, Tennessee. She opens a rooming house and quickly gathers a motley crew of tenants - Promise, Grace's best friend since kindergarten, who's fighting cancer; Maxie, an aging soap opera actress who hasn't lost her flair for the dramatic; Jonah, a sweet gullible old man with a crush on Maxie.

And Dillon, Grace's brother's best friend, who stood her up on the night of her senior prom and has regretted it ever since. Dillon rents Grace's guest house for the summer and hopes to make up for lost time and past hurts - but first, he'll have to convince Grace that she's worth loving...

EXCERPT:

It was no use.

Grace had taken her lengthy bath in the claw foot tub, shaved her legs and nicked her ankle right on the bone where it hurt most, and put on her chenille robe. She’d poured a tumbler full of the expensive wine Steven had brought a case of and sat on the couch with the book she’d gotten at the library when she’d read to the kids earlier in the week. Louisa May slept on the couch back, twitching her tail occasionally and smacking Grace in the face with it. Rosamunde dozed contentedly in the baseball cap Dillon had left on the lamp table. The window behind the couch was open, affording Grace a cooling breeze scented by the rain that had fallen that evening.

She’d already gotten up once and closed the pocket doors between the living room and the dining room. But she could still hear it.

Laughing. There were Jonah’s guffaw, Maxie’s theatrical trill, and the husky whoop that was always such a surprise coming from Promise’s soprano throat. Now and then another laugh slipped in, quieter than Jonah’s but no less gleeful. Dillon was there too. They sat on the screened porch, a good forty feet from where Grace sat with her feet up, and still she could hear them.

They were playing Monopoly. Grace hadn’t played that since the day before her mother died. She remembered that last game, the board balanced on a bed tray across Debbie Elliot’s legs in the room that smelled of Cashmere Bouquet talcum powder and sickness and medicine. Faith had sat on one side of her mother, Promise on the other, and Grace at the bed’s end.

“Sit on my feet a little, baby,” Debbie had said. “You keep them so nice and warm.”

Grace had won the game, and the next day—when Debbie was dead and life for the rest of the Elliots had irrevocably changed—she had hated herself for buying Boardwalk and Park Place and forcing her mother into bankruptcy.

“I made her die,” she’d told Steven.

“Her heart made her die,” he’d responded, but Grace hadn’t really believed him until he became a cardiac surgeon.

Sometimes, she still wondered. If Debbie had napped in the evening as she often did, would that hour of rest have made the difference? If Grace hadn’t sat on her mother’s feet with her eighty-five pounds of almost-twelve-year-old exuberance, would the final heart attack not have happened?

But she refused to think about those things now, nor would she consider the game of Monopoly with an inward shudder of dread. She thought instead of the laughter that was dancing along her nerve endings, and wondered if anyone else was using the little iron as their token for moving around the board. The iron had always been her favorite. She liked the way it felt between her fingers.

If she just got off her couch and wandered toward the porch like she was bored with her own company—which she was—would anyone make a big deal out of it? If Promise or the others acted surprised by her presence, Dillon Campbell would think she’d joined them just because he was there. Which was nonsense.

Of course it was.

She remembered how Dillon’s hand had felt when he pulled her to her feet the night before. She’d avoided unnecessary touch all her adult life, and one squeeze of Dillon Campbell’s fingers had her wondering if that hadn’t been a mistake.

More nonsense.

She tried again to devote full attention to the book, but finally gave up and laid it aside. She sat in the harsh light from the reading lamp and sipped her high dollar wine and listened to the laughter of the others. Isolation and loneliness wrapped around her, not new feelings by any means, but somehow deeper and darker tonight.

Maybe this time, as Promise often accused, she was excluding herself and the loneliness was of her own making. Maybe if she stepped onto the back porch, no one would make a fuss and no one would make her feel as though she didn’t belong. It was, after all, her porch.

Carrying her glass, she whispered open the pocket doors and strode barefoot through the deserted dining room and the kitchen with its ever-present light over the sink. After a moment’s hesitation, she pushed open the door to the porch.

“Replacement power. Just in time.” Promise’s smile was wide and brilliant. Welcome to the human race. Grace heard the words she didn’t say. “Now that I’ve been trounced, Grace can take my place while I make popcorn. No one’s using your iron, so have at it.”

Grace sat in the chair Promise vacated, taking the little metal iron from the Monopoly box. It still felt nice between her fingers.

“I’m the banker,” Jonah informed her, passing money around the table. “Since I’m better at losing money than anyone else, I was unanimously elected.”

“I don’t even know why I play.” Maxie sighed, fluffing her blond hair with heavily be-ringed fingers. “I seem to spend all my time in jail. Unless Dillon rescues me with his ‘get out of jail free’ cards,” she added with a flutter of eyelashes.

“I’m just a soft touch for a pretty lady.” Dillon smiled at her, his eyes glinting silver in the dim, yellow light on the porch.

Grace’s heart hammered against her ribs.

Geezy Pete, Grace, grow up.

Stalked by Love, by Brenda Williamson

2012-01-08T00:01:00.024-06:00

Stalked by Love
by Brenda Williamson

ISBN: 978-1-59578-617-3
Available from: Liquid Silver Books

Nightmares of a stalker, visions of drowning, and someone mysteriously leaving buttons are not the only bizarre happenings in Holly Meadow’s life. A handsome stranger she picks up in a bar becomes the center of her life after a torrid night of sex, and she doesn’t know whether to fear him or trust him. Either way, his lust makes her a prisoner of desire.

A fixation with a beautiful woman controls Lark Ellis. Destiny has thrown her in his path and he doesn’t have the power to break free of his obsession to claim her heart. Little does he know that his pretend chance meeting will ignite the danger he hoped to avoid. However, she’s in trouble, and he can’t refuse to help, nor can he ignore the passion she brings to his bed.

The culminating fact is, they are puppets in the hands of fate unless an unnoticed detail opens their minds to an overlooked element in their past.

Read an Excerpt

Brenda Williamson
Facebook ~ Twitter ~ Goodreads ~ Naughty Author Chicks

Did you know?

2012-01-07T00:01:00.034-06:00

Today is Christmas Day in Serbia? I stumbled upon that bit of information and decided to look around and see who else celebrates on dyas other then December 25th.

From info at Wikipedia:

ETHIOPIA: Christmas is a public holiday in Ethiopia, and on the night of Christmas Eve (Christmas Eve is on January 6, Christmas on January 7)

RUSSIA: As in some other Eastern Orthodox countries, and due to the 13-day difference between the newer Gregorian, and older Julian Calendars, Christmas is celebrated on January 7.

ARMENIA: Armenians celebrate Christmas (surb tsnunt, Սուրբ Ծնունդ) on January 6 as a public holiday in Armenia.

GEORGIA: On calendars in Georgia, Christmas (Georgian: შობა, shoba) is celebrated on 7 January (25 December on the Julian calendar).

UKRAINE: Sviata Vecheria or "Holy Supper" is the central tradition of the Christmas Eve celebrations in Ukrainian homes and takes place in most parts of the country on 6 January.

CROATIA and SLOVENIA: Christmas (Croatian: Božić, Slovene: Božič) is celebrated mainly as a religious holiday. The festivities begin on Saint Nicholas's Day on December 6 (in Slovenia) or St. Lucy's on December 13 depending on what region (in Croatia).

GREECE and CYPRUS: The festive period lasts from 30 November to 6 January (Epiphany) on the Greek calendar. Most families set up Christmas trees and shops have decorations and lights. Presents are placed under the Christmas tree and are opened on 1 January.

The article is interesting and contains many more Christmas facts regarding the customs of different countries. When they celebrate, why, for how long, etc. Is Santa part of their event or is it strictly religious?

Sauerkraut Balls

2012-01-06T00:01:00.031-06:00

8 oz. cream cheese

26 oz. can of sauerkraut, drained

3 Tbl. grated chopped onion

3 Tbl dry parsley

1 lb. ground hot sausage

1 Tbl dry mustard

1/2 cup Italian fine bread crumbs

For Breading –

1/2 cup fine bread crumbs in bowl
1 large beaten egg in bowl

Mix all ingredients together. Roll into1-1/2” balls. Roll balls into bread crumbs, into egg and then into bread crumbs again.

Refrigerate for several hours.

Deep fry at 350 degrees for 1 minute or until golden brown.

Suggested dips: Honey Mustard, Ranch, Blue Cheese

Here Be Magic

2012-01-05T00:01:00.001-06:00

Pop on over to my post at the Carina Press Author's HERE BE MAGIC blog where you can find my recipe for Orange Baked Apples.

Wednesday's Words, by Morgan Ashbury

2012-01-04T00:01:00.045-06:00

Here we all are, full of good food, good drink, and too many sweets. We love the holiday season, but we also love to return to our regular routines.

At least, I do.

I'm not at all ashamed to admit that I am a creature of habit, one who quite happily entrenches herself in the minutiae of day-to-day living.

I function best when I have a schedule, when I know what I'm supposed to be doing on any given day, at any given time.

I have a good friend who says I should be more spontaneous. My response is always, "I'll put it on my schedule."

My beloved returned to work yesterday after taking his traditional week off between Christmas and New Years. Here is where I hang my head in shame and admit to all and sundry that I'm really glad he's back at work.

Because, you see, while he had the week off from doing anything, I only had the week off from driving him to work. No small thing, I loved having my sleep uninterrupted for 11 straight days. I appreciated that, I really did.

But otherwise those eleven days didn't feel like any kind of vacation time to me. I find it very difficult to stick to a one-person-in-the-house-routine when there's someone else there with me.

He came home from work yesterday exhausted, of course. I'd warned him he would. At our ages bad habits form in about an eighth of the time good ones do; his body had gotten used to spending the day in the comfort of his lounge chair—or stretched out on the sofa—or in bed having a nap—and it therefore complained bitterly about going back to work.

There's something to be said about being a body in motion that stays in motion. Whereas he was whipped by yesterday's return to routine, I was energized (well, except for the driving part).

Did you make any New Year's resolutions? I didn't. I don't believe in setting myself up for failure. This year, I simply took some time to think ahead to the kind of year I want to have. Just as each evening my prayer is for me to be just a bit better the next day in each area of my life from the day before, so I hope this New Year is just a bit better than the one just passed.

For me, better no longer has anything to do with finances. I've lived long enough that I understand good times come, and they go...but they usually come around again. My beloved says the economy is cyclical, down in years ending in an 8 and up in years ending in a 2.

No, better for me means that I do better. As a writer, it means that my words are clearer, more evocative, more creative; as a wife that I am more attuned to the moods and needs of my husband, more patient and less demanding; as a mother that I pay attention to the very fine line between helping and enabling, and am freer with kind words and hugs; as a granny, that I make sure the freezer is always full of popsicles and ice cream, and the cupboards overflow with cookies and that I listen and again am freer with kind words and hugs.

I can't change anyone but me. So rather than focus on how I am treated by others, I instead choose to focus on how I behave, myself.

Because, you see, I have learned that it's only my attitudes and my efforts that directly fill my `happiness' tank.

Love,

Morgan

Brazen Seduction

by Morgan Ashbury

Available from Siren-Bookstrand

Molly Durant has been in love with Richard Grant since she was a teen. Richard has always treated her as a kid, but she’s never given up hope that he would someday notice her and claim her as his own. Then Molly met Alan Zimmerman and felt an identical kick to her lust-o-meter that Richard inspired. When she discovered the two men were D/s and members of a certain club, Molly planned a most Brazen Seduction.

Richard has always told himself his best friend’s baby sister, Molly, is off limits. When Molly appears at Reckless Abandon, a submissive to be auctioned to the highest bidder, Richard knows he must win her.

But another wants Molly and believes she was meant to be his sex slave. And he will stop at nothing until he has her exactly where he wants her.

Will Richard and Alan claim Molly as their mate, or will time run out?

Popularity "Writers" Contests

2012-01-03T00:01:00.041-06:00

Every year it seems that there are more and more popularity style writing contests, and not the kind where thousands and thousands of people write in your name. The contests I'm talking about are for writer's to enter with the best book cover, the best romance couple, the best plot, and so on.

Now while I can see a cover being voted on, shouldn't a book be read by the voter to determine if the plot or the couple are any good? Just once I'd like to see an author say, hey, I'm in this contest and if you've read my book and liked it, maybe you could vote for me.

Sure, I've been guilty in the past of a little self-serving tooting of my own accomplishments where contests go, but I usually stick to my personal outlets like my yahoo group, twitter, facebook, my blog.

I guess I just can't get up the courage to say on public forums, hey folks, I entered my book in a contest and please, please, please do me a favor and vote for mine internally thinking, so I don't look like a total loser. Take no offense if you do this. I applaud your gumption)

By the way, the worse of the contests are the ones that I have to enter my own book and beg friends for their vote. So, not cool. I think from now on I'll just let some fan enter me. I don't expect I'll win anything anytime soon. Actully, I don't have too many hopes of anyone entering me :-(

Eye Candy: Criminal Minds - Derek Morgan / Shemar Moore

2012-01-02T00:01:00.021-06:00

I love Shemar Moore's personality on Criminal Minds. He has that genuine caring tone that just makes me melt. Abnd it don't hurt that he's got one hellava smoking hot body!

HAPPY NEW YEAR !

2012-01-01T00:01:00.003-06:00

December's $50 Jewelry Shopping Spree Give-a-Way Winner is kimmyl

What Are You Doing New Year's Eve?

2011-12-31T00:01:00.016-06:00

My plan is to stay home, crawl into bed early and watch TV. Maybe I'll stay awake until midnight, maybe not. But the New Year will come regardless. I know, I'm so lazy.

Should an Author Rate their Own Book?

2011-12-30T00:01:00.002-06:00

There is a mixed thought process on rating your own book. Some say it's to manipulate the rating system in your favor. Not sure how, when you are only casting one vote just like everyone else. Out of a hundred other ratings, your one will be such a small part of the process.

Sure, they'll say you're bias. Of course you think your book is a five star read. But doesn't your opinion count? Who better to praise your work, than yourself? Self-promotion is the way of the business world.

As a reader, I already assume the author has voted favorably for their story. If I can tell, such as on Goodreads and Amazon, then good for them if they do. If they don't, my mind shoots immediately to, what's wrong with the story?

Personally, I find the rating of books not helpful in making my reading selection. I like to form my own opinion and if an author can convince me in their blurb that the story might be worth my time, then I'll read the book. It doesn't matter if the book was rated a one. I don't care that a reviewer thought the plot weak or the characters shallow. Sometimes those flaws are exactly what a story needs to make it stand out from the crowd.

Some all-time popular books have seen bad reviews and rated poorly...The DiVinci Code, Wuthering Heights, Lord of the Rings, and even Harry Potter.

Ratings are simply an opinion, and my rating is just that, my opinion :-)

As a reader, are you open-minded enough to form your own opinion or do you let star ratings (the opinions of others) dictate your likes and dislikes?

Interview with Heather Beck

2011-12-29T00:01:00.032-06:00

Welcome, Author & Screenwriter, Heather Beck. Thanks for joining us today and answering some questions.

1. I see Author/Screenwriter & H.B.A., Eng. Specialist in your email signature. Give us more details about what you write.

I have been writing professionally since I was sixteen years old and had my first book published when I was nineteen. Needless to say, English has always been my favorite subject at school, and I was lucky enough to attend university where I earned an Honors Bachelor of Arts with a Specialist in English. I write a lot of scary stories for kids which can be found in The Horror Diaries series. These tales are unique, fast-paced and filled with adventures, chills and many surprises. I also write coming-of-age fiction for teens, and lately these stories have become more literary in nature. I am very proud of these works which can be found in the Syren Signature Series. The final genre I write is paranormal romance for older teens/adults. This includes the Legends Unleashed series and print anthologies, What Legends Are Made Of and Whispers In The Shadows (which comes out this January). Additionally, I write short and feature length scripts as well as teleplays (TV scripts). I’ve had two short films produced (one even won an award) and am currently working on several projects with some very talented industry professionals.

2. Since you write a lot in the paranormal genre, what is your favorite mythical creature?

I like many mythical creatures such as vampires, werewolves, witches and mischievous gnomes. However, my absolute favorite creature is the siren. Although I can do without the part where they bring destruction upon men, I love the rest of their mythology about beauty and seduction.

3. Do you Google your name?

When I was first published, I would sometimes Google my name to find out what people were saying about my work. However, after my third book, the novelty wore off. I probably should though, since it’s useful to find reviews of my work and use it for marketing purposes.

4. What is your weirdest trait?

My weirdest trait is that I actually enjoy housework. I like to keep things clean and tidy and take great pride in a well-kept home.

5. What is your biggest fear?

My biggest fear is that my TV shows will never get produced. Although I’ve had some success in the film industry and have been optioned many times, it’s extremely difficult to get funding. Since I believe in these projects so much and have put in a tremendous amount of effort, I would be devastated if they never came to life.

6. What is your current work-in-progress?

I am currently working on edits for the remaining 20 volumes in The Horror Diaries series as well as writing Assorted Candies, an anthology of literary romance for teens. I have also started writing Siren and Fairy Dust, two young adult novels in the paranormal romance genre. Finally, I will shortly begin work on What Fairy Tales Are Made Of, which will include the last four volumes in the Legends Unleashed series. I have plans for a few other books, but they will have to wait for quite some time since completing all the mentioned projects will probably take three or four years.

7. Where in the world are you? Don’t tell us a name, describe the place in a way that we should be able to guess a general location.

I live in a country that experiences all four seasons, and our best literary works often describe the struggle to adapt to life in the wilderness. Of course, I could also say I live in an igloo, love donuts and hockey and have a pet beaver, but that doesn’t apply to me. Although I wouldn’t be against the idea of a pet beaver!

8. What is your favorite fast-food joint?

I don’t eat much take-out food but when I do, it’s either Subway or Harvey’s.

9. Cats or dogs, love or hate them, and why?

I am a huge animal lover and cats and dogs are no exception to that. My favorite dog breeds are Huskies and Pomeranians, while for cats it is the Maine Coon and Bengal breeds that I prefer. I’ve loved animals for as long as I can remember, and I guess it’s because they are cute, loving and playful.

10. Okay, for those of us unable to figure out your location, write the area down here, spelling it backwards.

adanaC.

Thank you, Heather, for answering my questions. Please share some links of where we can find you on the web.

Thanks for having me! Please check out my website and the trailer for my vampire film, The Rarity.

Heather Beck

What Legends Are Made Of

by Heather Beck

Available from Amazon

BLURB

Travel to Sir Tristan’s Estate, a place where ghosts roam freely and enter your dreams at night. Step aboard the Blue Oceana, a ship that will lead you to the world’s last merman. Get a ticket to Frank’s Freak Show to discover the truly disturbing main attraction. Finally, enter the doors of Karyn and Max Shield’s Costume and Magic Shop. It’s a place where you can buy merchandise that is out-of-this-world. These tales will leave you spellbound and yearning for more. Are you ready to find out what real legends are made of?

Same Old Lang Syne, Dan Fogelberg

2011-12-27T00:01:00.000-06:00

Are You Still Stuffed?

2011-12-26T00:01:00.025-06:00

The day after, and I'm still stuffed from all the food I ate. My family isn't so large since we're spread out around the country. But my brother's wife's family makes up for it. His house is filled every Christmas with dozens of family and friends, each bringing in something yummy to eat. This year was no different, and I always have to sample everything. Yet even a nibble of this and a taste of that can be overwhelming. Why on Earth do we eat on holiday's until we're uncomfortable in our clothes? Must be the why we choose Jan 1st each year to diet ;-)

Christmas

2011-12-25T00:01:00.001-06:00

Eye Candy: SEXY SANTA

2011-12-24T00:01:00.000-06:00

So, what do ya think, this was Santa in his prime?

Romance Junkies Winter Contest

2011-12-23T00:01:00.000-06:00

The Romance Junkies Winter Contest

All I Want For Christmas

2011-12-22T00:01:00.000-06:00

This is my all time favorite Christmas song. I could listen to this repeatedly all day long. The sentiment is romantic and the tune is the kind that just naturally lifts your spirits.