Please help me welcome Linda McLaughlin to my blog today. Linda is giving away a $5 Starbucks card for today’s tour stop, but is also giving away a $10 giftcard of the winners choice for her overall tour, so be sure to leave a comment to be entered.

What inspired your latest release?

About the time I decided to start writing, I was doing my family genealogy. As part of my research, I picked up a nonfiction book about the founding of Pittsburgh by the French, who built Fort Duquesne in the 1750s. I was surprised to learn that the French officers, most of whom were from the aristocracy and upper middle class, would strip down to moccasins and loincloth to lead their Native American allies on frontier raiding parties. I thought, wow, what a great hero that would make! And the idea for Jacques Corbeau of Rogue’s Hostage was born. While I ws still working on the book, the movie of The Last of the Mohicans, starring Daniel Day-Lewis was released and I saw it in the theater 3 or 4 times, absorbing every detail. The movie provided a lot of visual inspiration!

Do you have critique partners?

Yes, I have been with the same critique group for over twenty years. We meet once a week to critique each other’s work, and we have become the best of friends. When we started out, none of us were published, but now we all are.

What is your favorite dessert/food?

Chocolate. Dark chocolate, to be exact. 😀

What advice do you have for other authors wanting to self-publish?

Do your homework so you know what you are getting into. Assess your strengths and weaknesses so you know what you can on your own and what you will have to pay for. Editing can be quite expensive, for instance, so if you can save money by learning to do your own covers or formatting, then take the time to learn. Join a group and read books and be prepared to go the long distance. It takes time to build a name and find readers. I’m still working on that and I’ve been published, if not self-published, for a long time.

What did you want to be when you were a child? Did you always know you wanted to be a writer?

Like any child, I had occasional dreams of doing something glamorous, like being a spy or a concert pianist, but it didn’t take long for me to figure out neither of those would happen. I wasn’t that good at the piano, and frankly, I’d make a terrible spy. Can’t keep a secret to save my soul. But the two things that I thought about most were writing or being a librarian. My parents, who were very practical people, made it very clear which choice they thought was best, so I attended Library School after college graduation. I’ve worked as a technical and public librarian on and off for many years. I put the writing dream aside for a long time, but it came back to me in my thirties and I decided to give it a try. Glad I did.

What genres are you drawn to as a reader?

I’m a very eclectic reader and enjoy most genres, though I’m a little too squeamish for horror. However, I am a big history geek, so am drawn to anything historical, whether it’s a romance or mystery or science fiction & fantasy. I like Steampunk and am a big fan of Naomi Novik’s Temeraire books, a historical fantasy series.

Do you have any rejection stories to share?

Yes. About twelve years ago, I submitted Rogue’s Hostage to a New York publisher. When I didn’t hear from them for several months, I sent a postcard asking the status of my manuscript. They told me it had been lost, so I printed out another copy of the manuscript (this was before they took email submissions) and mailed it to them again. A few months later, I received a rejection on the original submission, followed a few weeks later by a second rejection for the second submission. At that point there was nothing to do but laugh. Obviously, the right hand didn’t know what the left hand was doing! And they wonder why we want to self-publish.

What’s next for you?

Next up is a release of my sweet Regency romance, Lady Elinor’s Escape. Then I plan to work on finishing a Western historical and write a sequel to my December release, How To Woo… A Reluctant Bride, written under my Lyndi Lamont pseudonym. It is going to be a busy year!

Bio:

Linda McLaughlin grew up with a love of history fostered by her paternal grandmother and an incurable case of wanderlust inherited from her father. She has traveled extensively within the United States and has visited Mexico, Canada, & Australia. A lifelong dream came true with a trip to England where she was able to combine sightseeing and theater with research for her novels. A native of Pittsburgh, she now lives in Southern California with her husband.

Her first book was Worth The Risk by Lyn O’Farrell, written with Anne Farrell. Now Linda writes historical and Regency romance. She loves transporting her readers into the past where her characters learn that, in the journey of life, love is the sweetest reward.

She also writes sexy to erotic romance under the name Lyndi Lamont.

Website: http://www.lindamclaughlin.com/
Blog: http://flightsafancy.blogspot.com/
Twitter: https://twitter.com/LyndiLamont

Rogue’s Hostage
By Linda McLaughlin
Historical Romance

4 ½ stars and a Top Pick from Romantic Times!
Romantic Times Nominee—Best Small Press Romance of 2003!
2nd Place – Lorie Awards – Best Historical Romance!

His hostage…

In 1758 the Pennsylvania frontier is wild, primitive and dangerous, where safety often lies at the end of a gun. Mara Dupre’s life crumbles when a French and Indian war party attacks her cabin, kills her husband, and takes her captive. Marching through the wilderness strengthens her resolve to flee, but she doesn’t count on her captor teaching her the meaning of courage and the tempting call of desire.

Her destiny…

French lieutenant Jacques Corbeau’s desire for his captive threatens what little honor he has left. But when Mara desperately offers herself to him in exchange for her freedom, he finds the strength to refuse and reclaims his lost self-respect. As the shadows of his past catch up to him, Jacques realizes that Mara, despite the odds, is the one true key to reclaiming his soul and banishing his past misdeeds forever.

(Previously published by Amber Quill Press)

Rogue’s Hostage is now available as an electronic download from Barnes and Noble and Amazon and coming soon to Smashwords. For more information and to read an excerpt, go to http://www.lindamclaughlin.com/rogueshostage.html

Excerpt from Rogue’s Hostage:

The woman gave a soft moan and opened her eyes. When she spotted him, she shrank back against the wall, arms folded defensively across her breast. His gut tightened. He didn’t enjoy terrifying women, but fear should make her easier to control. She had already proven unpredictable.

Terror, stark and vivid, glittered in her eyes. “Who are you?”

“My name is Jacques Corbeau, lieutenant in the army of France. And you are my captive.”

* * *

Mara inhaled sharply, panic building inside her. This couldn’t be real. It was all a bad dream. She would wake up soon and tell Emile about it, and they would laugh. And laugh and laugh and… She swallowed the hysteria engulfing her.

“Madame, are you listening to me?”

The Frenchman’s voice, sharp and insistent, demanded her attention. “There is not much time. My companions are not patient men. We must leave soon, but first I want you to bind my shoulder. Where do you keep bandages?”

Her mouth and throat were dry when she swallowed, but she choked out an answer. “The trunk. Under the bed.”

He squatted beside the bed, pulled out the trunk and rummaged through it. She watched his every move, unable to take her eyes off him, alarmed by the physical threat he represented.

He was a tall man who dominated the cabin as Emile never had, and his state of undress revealed nearly every inch of his lean and powerful form. Not only was he bare to the waist, but his breechclout and leggings failed to completely cover his thighs and buttocks. He had a wide-shouldered, rangy body and long, sinewy legs. He looked strong, virile, and dangerous.

A cold knot formed in Mara’s stomach. The French had killed her father and now her husband. What would they do to her?

She wrapped her arms around her waist. Her grandfather would say whatever happened was God’s will, but she rejected that idea. What kind of God allowed such awful things to happen?

Fearfully, she watched as the Frenchman shoved the trunk back under the bed and stood. He held out the bandages, and she froze. She couldn’t touch him, she just couldn’t.

The man’s heavy black brows drew together in a fierce frown, but his voice was without emotion. “Madame, I am all that stands between you and the men who killed your husband. I can be persuaded to act as your protector. It is to your advantage to do what I command.”

He dropped the bandages beside her on the bed and reached out to touch her hair. “Must I remind you, in my companion’s eyes, scalps are more valuable than live captives?”

Horror sliced through her fear. “Emile!” She shot off the bed and bolted for the door. The Frenchman caught her around the waist before she could reach it.

“It is too late, madame,” he said in a hushed voice. “It is done.”

“No,” she moaned, as she fought to banish the image of a bloody scalp, raw flesh.

The Frenchman turned her toward him, holding her by the shoulders, and spoke in an insistent voice. “Listen to me and be sensible. You must be strong now. We have a long journey ahead of us.”

Dazed, she stared at him. “A journey? To where?”

“Fort Duquesne.”

Mara gasped. The dreaded enemy stronghold deep in the wilderness. She struggled to get free, clawing at his powerful arms.

He gripped her tighter, grimacing as he did. “Stop it! What chance do you think you have against three men? Do as I say and you will live. Refuse and…” He let the implication hang in the air between them.

Live. Yes, that was what she must do. She must bide her time and stay alive. Her brother would find her and exact revenge. But for now, she was on her own.

She straightened her spine and stared into the Frenchman’s eyes. “How do I know I can trust you, monsieur?”

He met her gaze, but a shadow darkened his eyes. “You have my word of honor.”

Bitterness filled her. “The word of a Frenchman? What is that worth?”

“For the moment, madame, your life.”

This is the last stop of my Rogue’s Hostage Blog Tour. Leave a comment here with your email address to be entered for $5.00 Starbucks gift card, as well as my blog tour giveaway: a $10.00 gift certificate of the winner’s choice (Amazon, Barnes and Noble, iTunes, etc). Contest ends March 3.

My thanks to Cynthia for hosting me today. Hope you have enjoyed the interview and excerpt.

Please help me welcome Greta van der Rol to my blog today.

Thanks so much for allowing me to guest on your blog, Cynthia. If your readers would care to leave me a comment, naming what it was inspired the virus in ‘The Iron Admiral: Conspiracy’, they’ll be in the draw to win an ebook copy of The Iron Admiral – which is an omnibus of both my Iron Admiral books. (The answer is in the post, folks – and please tell me what format ebook you’d like – epub, mobi or pdf)

What genre(s) do you write in and why?

I mainly write Science Fiction with a dollop of romance. I’ve always enjoyed space opera. Star Wars was a favorite, despite the lousy science. You just suspended belief and went along for the ride. But I would have liked a bit more spice (if you know what I mean) so I’ve added a little bit in my own stories – based on the old adage, write what you’d like to read.

Tell us about your current series.

My Morgan Selwood books are my most popular. The setting is the far distant future, many centuries after Mankind was nearly wiped out in a colossal war known to history as the Cyber Wars. Morgan Selwood is a cyborg. But don’t tell her that. She’s very much all woman – except she has a super computer in her brain, and her eyes are artificial so she can connect to any sort of computer equipment.

Her story started in a novella called Supertech when the reader is introduced to her straight out of the Fleet Academy.

In Morgan’s Choice she ends up lost in space, where she is ‘rescued’ (captured) by an alien warship. Although things are decidedly rocky at first, she develops a relationship with the alien admiral and becomes involved in the local politics. You might say this book is sort of a cross between Star Wars and Indiana Jones.

This was followed by a short story entitled A Victory Celebration, mainly in response to people who asked for a bit more interplay between Admiral Ravindra and Morgan.

And now there’s Morgan’s Return, where Morgan goes home to where she began in Morgan’s Choice, and (needless to say) soon finds herself up to her ears in trouble.

What is your favorite part of writing?

You might find this a bit odd. Editing. I love finishing a story, then going back to polish it till it shines. It’s a bit like building a house. You watch it go up, brick by tedious brick, then you get to decorate.

What is your least favorite part of writing?

The blank page.

What is your next project and when will it be released?

The next project will also be set in Morgan Selwood’s universe, but it won’t star Morgan or Ravindra. They’ll both have a cameo appearance but their story has been told. I expect the new book will be released late 2013.

Where do you get the ideas for your stories?

Often from real events in history. For instance, the plot for my first Iron Admiral book, Conspiracy, was loosely based on Hitler’s rigged-up plot to start WW2. The Nazis staged an attack on a radio station just over the German border with Poland by men dressed as Polish soldiers. They broadcast inflammatory statements which Hitler used as his excuse to invade.

In a similar vein, the virus in that book was inspired by the Black Death which devastated Europe in the mid 1300’s.

I also assume that whatever else changes, human nature never does. There will always be tribalism, religion, fundamentalists, intolerance, greed – as well as love, strength, altruism.

I mix it all up with fast-paced action, add a scoop of romance and bake until done.

Tell us about your hero. Give us one of his strengths and one of his weaknesses.

In this series the hero is Admiral Ashkar Ravindra. He’s tall, too hard to be handsome with amber eyes. He’s Manesai, not Human, although his race is genetically derived from Humans. His eyes are like a cat’s. No whites and with vertical pupils.
He is a man of wealth and power, born to be a Fleet admiral. It’s in the blood and to a certain extent hereditary. But he’s a little bit different in that he is not as hide-bound and traditional as his compatriots, which is why he keeps Morgan, an alien, around. His intention originally is to use her for his own ends but that changes over time as respect is enhanced by love.

He’s not a ‘nice’ man. At all. Perhaps his greatest strength is his ability to see the bigger picture and do what is best for his people.

His greatest weakness is his need to control. Especially Morgan, who does not appreciate control. Oh, and he also does NOT like submarines. Not one bit. All that pressure…

Tell us about your heroine. Give us one of her strengths and one of her weaknesses.

Morgan was modified at birth, when her super computer was fitted in her brain and her eyes replaced with improved artificial models. Apart from her eyes, which look like mercury, she’s outwardly a normal, living, breathing, loving woman. But Morgan differs from other Supertechs in one important respect – she’s not specially biddable. She carried the mental scars of her modification and ruptured childhood like a chip on her shoulder. She has no love for authority and despises rank.

Her greatest strength is obviously her technical ability. She can work with (almost) all computer systems, given time to learn. She also can see more wavelengths of radiation than ordinary people and can enhance her hearing.

Her greatest weakness is a pathological fear of caves and being underground. This seems from a childhood experience. In more general terms, she finds it hard to connect with people, to make friends, to trust.

This is an excerpt from my latest novel, Morgan’s Return, which is a sequel to ‘Morgan’s Choice‘.

Morgan and Ravindra have just left the space station at the first planet they visited.

Through the ships’ sensors Morgan watched the station’s locking arms retract into themselves like some sort of huge insect folding its limbs. She couldn’t wait to get out of the place. Iniciara had been crossed off the one-hundred-places-you-must-visit-before-you-die list. What a stinking, messy, dump. She hadn’t even liked eating the food there. Who knew where it came from? What it was? She bet the half of it was synthetic, made in a factory somewhere.

Curlew shuddered and began to move backwards. The station had applied enough thrust to push the ship out of the bay and into clear space, with the ship’s systems controlling her drift so Curlew stayed equidistant between the docking bay walls. Beyond the bay, the station’s slowly-receding bulk rose before them, a metal pincushion of ships, arranged in slowly-turning tiers.

Aft and forward side thrusters fired. Curlew pivoted, then followed a traffic lane to the designated jump area for Torreno. For Morgan, that really would be almost like coming home. She’d spent many a year on the Coalition’s capital planet, some good, some not so good. Judging by the lack of traffic, Torreno wasn’t a favored destination from Iniciara. Or maybe all the traffic for that destination had already left. Whatever. Space was a very empty place out here.

“Crew prepare for shift transfer in ten,” Jirra announced.

One last check of the sensors… Morgan’s heart thudded. “Missile, coming fast, from starboard.” She’d raised the shields before she’d finished the words. “Prepare for impact.” They wouldn’t be able to avoid the strike whatever she did.

The shields fairly blazed, crackling with power as the warhead exploded. Morgan hung on to her seat, grateful for the harness, as Curlew was flung across space. Warning lights flashed. Shields were down seventy percent. If she hadn’t seen the missile coming at the last moment, they would have been history. Idiot. Fool. How could you be so complacent? And another tiny voice whispered, how could you miss it? How could you not have seen it?

Fuck. Another one.

Davaskar’s voice was calm, however he might feel. “Looks like a seeker. Run interference.”

A cloud of ionized particles spread out in the missile’s path. Morgan crossed mental fingers. Jirra was deploying the weapons systems, but they had been in lock down while at Iniciara’s space station, and they would take a few moments of precious time to be combat-ready.

“Attacking craft to starboard, on a heading to cut us off,” Jirra said. “Second missile still on track. Prepare for impact.”

Morgan braced as the alarms shrilled. The force flung her sideways, smashing her hip against the seat arm. Something sizzled, filling the air with the stink of burnt wires. Lights blinked. Her hip hurt.

Ravindra’s voice cut through the cacophony. “What’s happening?”

She felt, rather than saw, him sit down in the command chair at the back of the bridge.

“Under fire from an unknown attacker, Srimana,” Jirra said without looking up.

“Damage report?”

“Sensors blown to starboard, systems report mild structural damage to the hull.”

A blast from a beam weapon tore across the ship’s bow.

‘Shields critical’. The letters flashed a warning on every screen while a slow beep sounded a countdown.

The unknown assailant pivoted, ready for another run.

***
You’ll find Morgan’s Return at Amazon US Amazon UK Smashwords Omnilit

BIO
Greta van der Rol loves writing fast-paced, action-packed science fiction with a large dollop of good old, healthy romance. Her novel Morgan’s Choice was in the top 100 best sellers for space opera on Amazon for several months. But she writes other genres, too. Her historical novel To Die a Dry Death was awarded the bronze medal for historical fiction in the 2011 eLit Awards and her latest work, Black Tiger, is a paranormal romance. Greta lives not far from the coast in Queensland, Australia and enjoys photography and cooking when she isn’t bent over the computer. She has a degree in history and a background in building information systems, both of which go a long way toward helping her in her writing endeavours.

– http://gretavanderrol.net/
– http://twitter.com/GretavdR
– http://www.facebook.com/Author.Greta.vanderRol

Links for books http://gretavanderrol.net/books-2/

Please help me welcome my friend and fellow Colorado Romance Writers member, Sandra S. Kerns to my blog. Sandra is giving away two $5 Amazon gift cards, so be sure to comment.

Characters – Can’t Live With Them; Can’t Write Without Them

If you are a writer I’m sure at some time in your career you have been asked, “How did you come up with that character; character’s name, or character’s attitude?” If you are a reader, I’m sure you’ve wondered where the writer came up with the character. So I thought today we would spend some time pondering this issue.

All of the characters in my books share a trait or two with people I know or have seen, though they rarely are direct clones of those people. We take silly/serious personality traits from one person, odd physical tics from others, and emotional wounds from still others. In this way we can create an endless number of interesting and diverse characters from only a handful of people. Sounds easy, right?

Not necessarily.

We spend a lot of time working on the appearance, personality, and the motivations and conflicts of characters. Some writers even have scenes outlined with which characters will do what. After all this work what happens when we start writing the story? The characters don’t pay any attention to our plans.

Oh come on, are you seriously going to tell me that you’ve never had a character refuse to do what you wanted?

Okay, so they don’t stop, turn around with hands on hips and say, “Sandra, I am not doing that.” But they may as well when you write the scene the way you want and it feels totally wrong. You know that if you continue making your hero/heroine do things this way the entire story is going to feel forced. Your flow gets all screwed up and every word you type is forced. That, my friends, is your character telling you NO.

Now that you recognize it, what should you do about it?

The first thing I do is walk away. Granted, I’m usually walking away in a huff, gesturing wildly, and saying unkind things about the character or myself. Eventually I calm down and take a break to do something completely un-writing related. It helps to clear the clouds of frustration from my mind. When I return to my story I don’t start right back trying to force the scene. I reread it, trying to understand why it isn’t working; why the characters are fighting me every step of the way. Sometimes the proverbial light bulb will come on and I realize what I was doing wrong. Sometimes not.

When clarity doesn’t come I start writing the scene again. If the frustration with every word starts building again I stop. At this point I realize I need to talk to my character and figure out why things aren’t working. This is where some of my pre-writing work – most of which is done in my head not on paper – comes into play.

Years ago a writing group I belong to had a character motivation/conflict program with a little competition added in. The idea was to inspire us to really get to know our characters. I was writing a story with a detective as the hero at the time. I figured a good way to really get to know his deep dark secrets was to have him go to a psychiatrist. So I made up this situation where he had to go to the department psychiatrist after a shooting. Don’t worry; I’m not going to give you a list of questions to answer. To be honest, the psychiatrist (me) didn’t get a chance to ask much because the detective sat down (yes, I could see it all clearly when I closed my eyes) and pretty much wouldn’t shut up until he’d spilled what he considered his entire life story. When he finished he sat there with a smug self-satisfied look on his face and his arms crossed thinking he’d shot down every possible reason the psychiatrist could come up with to explain anything. I can still picture it in my mind and it usually brings a smile to my face because that character delivered info-dump provided me everything I needed to write his story.

Was this an in depth character outline? No, but it gave me a sense of what this character would be like if I met the flesh and blood version of him. It took him off the page and made him real for me. It’s become almost second nature for me to do something similar with all my characters now. I have honestly answered people’s questions about my characters at times with, “Oh, he/she would never do something like that.” Then I go on to explain why.

When I’m critiquing or visiting with other writers about a scene they wrote that feels forced to me, or that they aren’t happy about, I ask them to tell me why the character reacted that way. It makes them dig deeper into the characters psyche. It has made for memorable “aha” moments.

Has this stopped my characters from taking ‘left turns’ when I want them to go right? Not always. But now I realize much sooner that I am forcing my personality on their actions instead of letting their background and life lessons lead the way. Learning this has made for a much more joyful writing experience for me and I hope it will help you, too.

BIO

Originally from upstate New York, Sandra now lives in Northern Colorado. She writes primarily romantic suspense. Now and then she dabbles in futuristic romance just to mix things up. She belongs to Romance Writer’s of America and two of its chapters as well as Crested Butte Writers. She has won several writing awards. Not one to rest on her laurels she keeps busy writing new stories. If she doesn’t, her sister sends her a loud email asking what she’s doing and why she hasn’t sent pages for review. Feel free to stop by her website at www.sandrakerns.com and say hi.

EXCERPT

Eddie stood silently absorbing the hushed sounds of the darkness around him. To some, if anyone were up at this early hour, it might appear as if he were giving thanks to the heavens. He felt a grin pull at his mouth because they wouldn’t be that far from the truth. Other than being a little chilly for him, he favored this time of day. In these early hours of the morning there were no noisy people in his way and no damned glaring Colorado sunshine blinding him. Nothing interrupted him as he prepared for the task ahead. Even the old brick building in downtown Pinecrest seemed to pause with him, as if gearing up for the attention it would soon draw.

The early morning air whispered around him, tossing the tails of his trench coat. The flapping of them around his knees changed the grin to an uncharacteristic smile. He hadn’t felt this positive in two years. Even the recent missions hadn’t held such an optimistic feel. He tipped his head back and stared up at the dark, star-strewn sky. Pinecrest, Colorado didn’t have as many street lights as other cities, which made it easier, even downtown, to appreciate the number of stars above. Eddie closed his eyes and drew all the positive power of the night’s quiet comfort deep inside. Pulling his gloved hand from his pocket, he pushed the button on the panel next to the old building’s door. A woman’s wary voice came over the speaker.

“Who is it?”

“Eddie Craven, Ms. Tibbets. I called earlier. I have the information you wanted,” he spoke into the intercom, jumping when the obnoxious buzzer released the door’s lock. All the calming effects of the previous moments disappeared. He hated the sign of weakness. In his frustration, he yanked open the door with more force than necessary.

Once inside the dark stairwell, Eddie flexed his hands several times to cool the rush of anger. It wouldn’t do to hurry this through and miss all the satisfaction because of a stupid buzzer. He closed his eyes, took a deep breath, exhaling slowly. Yes, there, that was better. He took hold of the railing and paused to let the coolness of the metal penetrate the thin leather covering his hand before he started up the steps.

Eddie looked up at the landing. An apartment door stood ajar, light spilling out. He squinted. He hated bright light and the pain it brought to his sensitive eyes. The constant sunshine, especially in the summer months, was one of the reasons he had enjoyed missions outside of Colorado. The other . . . memories. Pinecrest was much too close to the worst of them. His abandonment, the group home, the pain, the …

He needed to stop the negative direction of his thoughts. He reminded himself how easy this particular mission had been. He would have to use this ruse again. Posing as a PI who specialized in finding children given up for adoption had worked like a charm. He shook his head remembering how Ms. Tibbets had pleaded with him for his help. It worked as well as when he’d worn the cleric’s collar. The memory of wearing it while he sat across the table from the cop in Philadelphia washed over Eddie. People always trusted a man of religion. The desperate were always so gullible, and Detective Dawson had definitely been desperate.

The door at the landing opened further, sending more light flooding downward. The added glare forced him to put on his tinted glasses. Another weakness he had to accept, but getting a headache would ruin the satisfaction of completing his task.

“Did you find her?” Ms. Tibbets called down from above in a voice full of hope.

“That’s what you paid me for, isn’t it?” he asked and smiled the innocent, generous smile he’d mastered over the years. Yes, he would definitely have to use this ploy again. Payment for his mission was a bonus he hadn’t experienced.

“I can’t believe it,” she said waving her arm toward him. “Come in, come in.”

He stepped onto the landing and felt the first wave of triumph. It was followed by another feeling, one Eddie couldn’t identify, but knew he’d felt before. He tried to classify it, but it evaporated before he could. Shaking it off, he focused on the task at hand.