A ‘How-To’ for Cranking up Your Romance Quotient (Success Guaranteed).

Guest Blog (Maureen Fisher at Cynthia Woolf)

 

Born inScotland, Maureen emigrated to Canada at the tender age of seven. After graduating from university, she convinced the federal government to hire a Fine Arts specialist as a computer programmer. Three years later, Maureen graduated again, this time to full-time homemaker and mom, raising two wonderful sons. Plunging back into the business world, she and her second husband started a management consulting company. This marriage survived because she and her husband pledged never to work on the same project again. Ever.

 

After a century in the consulting world, Maureen grew weary of wearing snappy power suits, squeezing into panty hose, and fighting rush hour traffic. With the help of an energy healer, she made a life-changing decision. She would write books. Not dry, boring, technical treatises, but fresh, funny romantic suspense novels. Maureen is now the author of two sassy romance novels, with a third undergoing the painful gestation process.

 

A ‘How-To’ for Cranking up Your Romance Quotient (Success Guaranteed)

 

Thank you so much for having me on your blog today, Cindy!  In honor of Valentine’s Day, this blog entry is my gift to all women who wish to crank up the romance quotient in their relationships. At the risk of sounding immodest, the advice I’m about to impart today is so simple, yet so brilliant, I expect to be awarded a significant humanitarian award. Like the Nobel Peace Prize. Or the Order of Canada. Or the coveted Above-and-Below-the-Sheets Romance Upgrade Award.

 

Seriously!

 

At this very moment, throngs of men are in a state of panic, not to mention despair, having left their purchase of a Valentine’s Day gift until the last possible moment. We don’t know what causes this unspeakable madness. Performance anxiety? Selective amnesia? An expectation that someone will cancel Valentine’s Day and he’ll be off the hook this year? Reasons abound. They vary from man to man, and they are irrelevant. But I digress. Whatever the cause, I’ve seen many a dude, his eyes glinting with desperation, manly brow beaded with driblets of sweat, scouring jewelery stores, candy counters, and lingerie racks in a frenzied quest for the perfect Valentine’s Day gift, one that will scream romance to his lady-love.

 

Please don’t get me wrong. I enjoy receiving diamonds, chocolate, and edible panties (‘Strawberry Passion’ rocks) as much as the next woman. Hey, I would kill for a Tanzanite pendant and matching earrings. I am not, I repeat, NOT advocating we scrap the lavish gift-giving ritual. Nevertheless, I contend that there’s more to demonstrating romance than a 20-pound Lady Godiva gift tower. To put my money where my mouth is, I will share with you the secret for injecting more romance into your relationship, both in and out of the bedroom:

 

Every man must learn what makes a woman tick.

 

Yes, folks, it really is that simple.

 

Since the beginning of time, we women have struggled, sadly with limited success, to instill more romance into our relationships. The good news is, the failure is not our fault. Seriously. The key to living the romantic dream nestles in the capable, not to mention long-fingered, sensitive, well-manicured, sinewy, and delightfully work-roughened hands of our romantically-challenged main squeeze. Think, for example, how wonderful it would be if our man grasped that overt ogling of the waitresses at Hooters was an unconditional no-no; how delightful if our man embraced our hormone-whipped mood swings with a hug, reassuring words, and an offer to clean the toilets; how glorious if our man listened with unfeigned interest to our frustrations, hurts, and complaints—without offering advice on how we should handle the situation; how totally sublime if our man memorized all our most sensitive spots and lavished attention on each and every of them. Frequently. Gently but firmly. The way we love most.

 

Okay, so I sense skepticism. How, you ask, can we impart this knowledge to our menfolk without indulging in mind-melding or nasty threats involving sharp implements? In the interest of female solidarity, I’m willing to share my mind-blowing ‘how-to’ secret:

 

Introduce the love of your life to romance fiction.

 

Okay, so I’m taking the high road and ignoring the eye-rolls. Bear with me. To achieve this goal, I have devised an Action Plan containing Tasks, Sub-Tasks, and Milestones.

 

The first task is sneaky. It exploits men’s love of logic. This is where you explain to him that romance novels provide unlimited opportunities for a man to plumb the depths (so to speak) of the mysterious world of Venus. In the process, he might even reach new insight into Martians. How, I ask you, can any man in his right mind resist unveiling the feminine mystique–what we love, what we hate, what turns us on, what turns us off, in short, what makes us tick?

 

Once you reach the first milestone (his buy-in that romance novels offer men untold benefits), it’s time to implement task two. Take a deep breath and drop a hint that, going forward (that’s man-speak, required to indicate you’re on his wave-length), his enlightenment will cause those Gates of Paradise to open more often. And bingo! He’s riveted by the bait of abundant sex. You’ve achieved the second milestone.

 

At this point, you must advance quickly to task three. Tap into his competitive streak by recounting your recurring fantasy of a man sprawled in an airport chair, legs crossed, waiting for his flight, briefcase and laptop at his feet—a manly man, a hunk who is truly comfortable in his own skin, a studmuffin who is dabbing the tears in his eyes, a hottie who has discarded his business report on financial trends in favor of the latest Nora Roberts bestseller. Assure him that at the end of the day (more man-speak), only real men read romance.

 

If you’ve done your job properly, you’ll soon hear him beg for Cynthia Woolf’s new western romance, or Maureen Fisher’s paranormal, or even romances by lesser-known authors like Susan Elizabeth Phillips and Lori Foster. Simply hand your dude the mushiest romance novel you can find, place a box of tissues within easy reach, and give him space to do the rest.

 

Mission accomplished! I offer you a transformed man who understands women inside and out. A man who knows what to do to and how to do it to crank up the romance quotient.

 

Seriously!

 

Or you can stick with the tried but true approach—a gift, dinner, mushy card, and celebratory sex. Either way is an excellent choice.

 

I wish you a fabulous Valentine’s Day, and would love for you to share the most memorable Valentine’s Day gift you received.

 

Please feel free to visit my blog for more nonsense such as ‘A Tummy-Taming Teddy and a Thigh Toner’ at http://booksbymaureen.com/?p=1449

 

Maureen Fisher’s Books

 

The Jaguar Legacy http://amzn.com/B005L40LX6  is an award-winning romance written in the tradition of Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom (with steamy romance), The Jaguar Legacy is strong enough for a man … but written for a woman.

 

 

Take one lost city deep in Mexican jungles, sprinkle with occult energy.
Add one sassy reporter on a quest for an exposé.
Combine with a generous helping of brilliant Scottish archaeologist who hates the press.
Throw in a dollop of vengeful ex-wife and a pinch of mysterious shaman who pursues ancient powers.
Stir until well combined, place in pressure cooker, and stand back from the fireworks.
Beware of shapeshifting and past life flashbacks.

Despite baffling panic attacks that devastated her career, journalist Charley Underhill barges in on a Mexican archaeological dig, bent on sniffing out a juicy exposé that will restore her reputation and earn enough money for her mother’s life-saving treatment. Haunted by past betrayals, Dr. Alistair Kincaid isn’t about to let a smart-mouthed reporter leak word of his latest discovery, an ancient Olmec city, to the press. A battle of wills and wits ensues. Soon, strands from a past life intertwine with the present, drawing the couple into a vortex of danger, romance, and chilling evil. Torn between redeeming her soul and betraying the man she loves, Charley faces impossible choices.

 

Fur Ball Fever http://amzn.com/B005LIALVE is a romantic crime mystery spiked with attitude (most of it warped), tons of humor, and enough steamy sex to drive those who dare read it racing for a cold shower.

 

After a lifetime of impetuous mistakes, pet spa owner Grace Donnelly outdoes herself when she loses her elderly client’s prize pooch—a shoo-in to win the annual Fur Ball. Money, careers, and lives are in jeopardy. Too bad her helpers consist of an aging hippie aunt, a renegade schnauzer, and a drag queen. Worst of all, the only man truly qualified to help is her former flame, the hunkiest bodyguard north of theMason-Dixon Line.

 

Private safety specialist Nick Jackson has his own pressing agenda: to nail the phony televangelist who pulled a retirement residence scam and whacked a witness. To salvage his case, his sanity, and his ex-lover’s velvety skin, Nick joins forces with the sassy crusader who rubs him the wrong way—and so many right ways too.

 

Hazards soon multiply like bunnies, exploding into romance, murder, and mayhem, culminating in a Fur Ball extravaganza the locals will never forget.

 

Read more about Maureen Fisher and her books at http://booksbymaureen.com

Excerpt from Centauri Dawn, Book 1 of the Centauri Series

This is an excerpt from the first chapter of my book Centauri Dawn.  I will be giving a copy of the paperback or an ebook, to one commentor.  So be sure and leave a comment.

 

Chapter 1

Always the same dream. He called to her. “Princess Dayanara.” His voice was like rich, silky caramel, floating down her mound of ice cream. It did strange things to her insides. She yearned to hear him say her name again and again.

It was so hot and he was so sexy. Hot. God, she was hot. She kicked the blanket off her leg. But he was just a dream. A fantasy.

Something…someone…touched her leg. This wasn’t a dream! The hand she felt hot against her skin was real. She jolted awake. The warmth she felt in her dream turned to a cold sweat.

A man stood beside her bed. Not just any man, but the man from her dreams. Tall, dark, with chiseled features. Handsome with broad shoulders and abs to die for. His face came into focus and his gaze captured hers. Color of the deepest ocean, so blue as to seem almost black in the faint light that surrounded him, she struggled to look away.

Sitting bolt upright, she screamed, then scrambled backward over and off the bed, landing with a thump. She hit her back and shoulder.

The man leaned over the bed, his large size looming down over her, blocking the light from the window.

She scrambled backward, struggling to get to her feet.

“Are you injured?” His voice washed over her. He sounded familiar, like she should know him, but she didn’t.

He came around the bed and she bounded over it to the other side. As he closed on her she glanced quickly around and looked for a weapon, any weapon. Her hand landed on a small pink lamp. It had sat next to her bed since she was five, keeping her safe from the boogeyman. She grabbed it, pulling the cord from the wall and held it in front of her like a sword. “Who the hell are you? Get out of here before I call the police.” Her voice was rough from sleep, edgy from fear

He moved closer to her, reaching out a hand. Not with malice, but with something else. Concern? “Princess you’re going to hurt someone. May I assist you?” he asked, chivalrous.

Princess. He must be a nutcase.

She yanked at the straps of her gown, resettling them on her shoulders and pulling the bottom down as far as it would go but it was too short to cover much.
“Stop.” Her voice shook, though she tried to steady it. “Don’t come any closer.”

“You must listen. You must come with me.”

She screamed at the top of her lungs. “Help! Help! Help!” What was wrong with the people in this building? Were they all deaf?

“Princess.” His voice washed over her like warm chocolate, comforting her. That wasn’t right. Why wasn’t he attacking her? The soothing voice didn’t stop her. He was a stranger. In her bedroom. “Help! Help!” she screamed, keeping the pink lamp aimed at him.

She lunged across the bed, reaching for the telephone.

“Now, Princess, please calm down.” He reached for the phone, and ripped it from the wall. “I mean you no harm, but we must talk and there is little time.” He fell to one knee, bowing in front of her.

Her eyes wide, she swung the pink lamp at him at him. He deflected the blow with his forearm as he stood, denting the lampshade in the process.

“Princess. Someone is going to get hurt if you do not allow me to speak.” He wrestled the mangled lamp from her. “Hear what I have to say. Please,” he implored. “You must return home. Immediately.”

“Help! Somebody help me!” Screaming, she kicked out at him with her foot, tried to take his head off but her skills were no match for his. He blocked her kick with one arm, grabbed her leg with both his hands, flipped her completely around and back on to the bed.

“No one can hear you. Stop screaming.” His voice never rose. He sounded…exasperated.

Somewhat reassured that he didn’t attack, Audra stopped to catch her breath. Breathing hard, she rolled to her back, the sheet cool beneath her and eyed him from top to bottom. “You look like you just came from a Star Trek convention.” And just like the man in my dream.

Could it be?

“Yes, I have trekked across the stars in search of you, Princess.” His words were odd, clipped, very formal, as though learned from a book.

“What are you talking about?” This man, dream or not, was in her bedroom and she couldn’t imagine how in the world he got in there.

He held out his hand to help her up but she swatted it away.

“Who are you? Really? How did you get in here and…and who are you?” She lunged for the lamp in his hands.

Placing the lamp out of her reach, he said. “I am Coridian, brother of your betrothed. I am here to escort you home.”

“Betrothed? You’ve escaped from the asylum, haven’t you? You’re some kind of nut and…”

“My lady, I am not an escapee from an asylum, and I am not a pecan.”

“Then, why do you keep spouting nonsense? I’m not a princess!”

“May I rise? I’ll explain–.”

She shook her head and backed up a step. “You–”

He held up his hand to stop her. “Then you can ask your questions.”

“You–you stay right where you are.”

In the next instant, she grabbed the hairspray can from her dressing table, threw it at his head and bolted for the door. He leapt forward and caught her before she’d taken two steps, slamming her up against his chest, trapping her there within his arms. The lamp crashed to the floor, shattered.

Kicking wildly, Audra connected with his groin. His knees buckled, but he was quick to recover and never loosened his hold on her. Her heart raced as she twisted, freed an arm, and slammed the heel of her hand into his face. If he hadn’t turned, she would have broken his nose. Her strike was solid enough though, she heard him groan in pain before he released her.

Triumphant, she spun around, connecting her right foot with his solar plexus, knocking the wind from him. Now on the attack she switched feet and with her left foot, launched him backward, sending him landing on his back. Regaining her balance before he did, she straddled his chest, her knees and feet trapping his arms. “Now. Tell me what I want to know or I’ll make sure you don’t see another day.”

Excerpt of Kill Shot by J D Faver

Hi Cindy! Thanks so much for hosting me today. I appreciate being invited into your worlds. I write contemporary mysteries and romance. I’m sharing with your readers an excerpt from Kill Shot, one of my recent releases in romantic suspense.

I will be giving a free download of Kill Shot as well as a Bad Girls Need Love Too…tee shirt in a choice of size ( small to extra-large) to one lucky person who leaves a comment.

Kill Shot is a reunion story about two people who grew up in the same neighborhood and were sweethearts through school. But my heroine, Micki Vermillion, decided she wanted to follow in her father’s footsteps and have a career in photography instead of being the stay-at-home wife the hero expected her to be. “Oz” Osmond follows his dream and becomes a cop while Micki is following hers, but when someone shoots the windows out of her car, the first person she calls is Oz. Their reunion is not the smoothest, with both of them being cautious and reluctant to reopen old wounds.

This scene takes place after Micki has been attacked for a second time in her apartment and Oz, her ex-boyfriend, is on the scene with other police and emergency personnel.

Kill Shot excerpt:

 

~*~

“I’m fine,” she said. “Just let me get up.”

Oz loomed over her, his brows drawn together. “You’re not fine. Shut up, lay down and let them examine you.” He looked worried as opposed to angry. He stepped away and an ambulance attendant took her blood pressure while another blinded her by shining a flashlight in her eyes.

Micki stared up at the ceiling in her entryway, following the bright haloes of light echoing off her retinas. “How did you get here? I specifically didn’t call you.”

One of the EMT’s hailed Oz. “I think she’s talking to you, Officer.”

He glowered down at her. “Why didn’t you call me?”

“You told me not to. I didn’t even have a chance to call nine-one-one.”

“I think she’s delirious, sir,” the young EMT said.

Oz grunted. “No, she’s always confusing. One of your neighbors called nine-one-one and dispatch cross-referenced your name to the shooting in the park.” He let out a sigh. “Does it make any difference how I got the call? I’m here now.”

Micki raised her hand to her throbbing head, tentatively touching the area close to her eye. “Ouch! What’s wrong with me?”

“Don’t ever give me a straight line like that.” Oz squatted down to her level. “You have what is referred to as a mouse. A real shiner.”

“A black eye! He hit me. Yes, I remember.” The tissue around her eye was swollen and tender.

“You saw your attacker?”

“Clearly.” She glimpsed movement at the periphery of her vision and swiveled her head. An officer scooped debris off her floor.  “Oh, just look at my apartment,” she wailed. “The computer! He smashed my computer.”

“It’s okay, Micki. It was just a computer.” Oz sounded reasonable, but he had no idea of the enormity of her loss.

“That computer is my business. I use it to print and store picture files.” She struggled to get up, but several pairs of hands restrained her. “Please, I…I have to see.”

Oz nodded and lifted her to her feet. She swayed dizzily for a few moments, reeling from the carousel spinning in her head and from the carnage around her.  Several people, including two uniformed officers were examining the items strewn on the floor.

“My stuff is so trashed,” she wailed. “Oh, noooo! He took the memory card out of the USB port.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Oz tried to hold her steady.

“I left the memory card from my camera in the port to the computer. It holds three hundred shots and it was full. It had the pictures I shot yesterday.”

Oz lowered her onto the gurney. “I was wrong. She’s delirious. Take her to the hospital and don’t let her walk until I have personally come to question her.”

“Oz!”

The EMTs strapped her to the gurney and raised the legs, sending a pounding pain to her head.

“Oz!”

“I can’t hear you. Go with these trained professionals and be nice.”

“My camera! That guy took my camera.”

Oz stopped the gurney. “What camera?”

“He jerked the new camera case off my shoulder. I just rented it. Oh freakin’ great! What else can happen?”

“Don’t ask.” He stared hard into her eyes and rested his hand on her forehead for a moment. “I’ll see you at the hospital.”

The problem with having a big, hunky, alpha-male ex- boyfriend is that he always thinks he knows what’s best for you and that he has the right to impose his views on you. Micki considered the pros and cons of the situation as she was being loaded into the ambulance.

Someone shot at her and now someone had broken into and trashed her apartment. Clearly, the two acts were connected and the shooting wasn’t random as she had hoped.

With the wail of a siren adding another dimension to the pain throbbing in her head, the ambulance transported Micki to Saint Andrew’s Hospital at mid-town, where radiology scanned her head as though it contained hidden treasure.

A haggard-looking young doctor came into her cubicle to examine her. He appeared to have been on duty longer than his allotted shift. A scraggly beard sprouted from his chin and the front of his scrubs had a fresh spatter of something Micki didn’t want to think about.

His smudged glasses had slipped to the end of his nose. He frowned at her over the rims. “It says here I’m not to release you until an Officer Osmond comes to pick you up. Are you under arrest?”

Micki groaned. “I need to go home. Someone broke into my place. Even now, people are tromping all over my stuff.” She was nodding her head, but each movement brought a shower of pain like mini fireworks going off behind her eyes.

The doctor nodded too, giving her a pill to calm her down and another one for pain. He instructed her to continue lying down with an icepack on her bruised face. The cubicle was curtained off from the rest of the ER and before she knew it she’d fallen asleep.

At some point during the time she slept, Oz appeared. She heard his deep voice as he talked to the doctor, although she couldn’t force her eyes to open.

“How did you get her to stay?” Oz asked.

“I gave her something to help her relax.”

“You doped her?” Oz gave a snort of laughter. “Why didn’t I think of that?”

The voices faded and she slept for several hours. When she awoke she’d been transferred to a room. Oz was sitting beside the bed.

“Where am I?” she asked.

“We’re in the observation unit. The doc didn’t want to admit you so he’s just looking at you.”

“What are you doing here?” She struggled to sit up.

A smile tweaked the corners of his mouth. “I’m looking at you too.” He raised the head of the bed with the remote.

She felt groggy and disoriented. “I feel worse than before. What was in the pills he gave me? I didn’t sign any papers for treatment.”

Dark eyes devoured her; challenged her. “I did. I told them you were my wife. Are you going to sue me?”

“Jerk.”

“Good to see you’re back to normal.”

“I need to go home.”

“I’ll take you home.” He pushed the call system and a voice asked what they needed. “She’s awake. Tell the doc to release her.”

Micki folded her arms and glared at Oz. “Do you always get everything you want?”

He shot her a dark glance as he left the cubicle. “Not everything.”

A Nurse Aide entered and helped her find her shoes.

She was forced to ride in a wheel chair to the front entrance where Oz waited for her. It was already dark.

How long was I asleep? What’s happening at my place? She squinted at Oz, still dizzy and lightheaded.

He helped her into the passenger seat and belted her in before silently easing the car into gear.

When they pulled out from under the portico, a light rain was falling. It looked golden in the street lights and made the roads appear black and oily.

Her head throbbed rhythmically in time to the windshield wipers.

Oz drove silently, glancing at her from time to time.

She pulled down the mirror behind the visor and observed her battered image. “Pretty scary.” She touched the bruised area on her cheekbone and the half-circle below her eye. “It looks like I missed with the eye shadow.”

“I’ve had worse.”

“Oh, that makes me feel so much better.” She shut the mirror with a snap. “Hey! This isn’t the way to my place.”

“I said I was taking you home. My home.”

A swarm of butterflies flew formations in her chest. “Oz, I can’t stay at your place.”

He pulled into the underground parking at his apartment and found his assigned space. He switched off the ignition and turned in his seat to face her.

“I’m only going to say this once and I don’t want any argument.” He gazed at her solemnly, letting the effects of his words sink in.

Micki bit back the retort that sprang to mind and nodded her head.

“Someone is after you. He shot at you and he punched you in the face. He ransacked your place and destroyed your property. He took your camera bag. I will not let him get to you again. Got that?”

The significance of his words caused a shiver to run down her spine. She nodded again, feeling like a king-sized bobble head. “But…” She started to protest but he laid a finger on her lips to silence her.

“You’re going to stay with me, because I’m the meanest son-of-a bitch around and I’ll take care of you. I know you don’t want to be taken care of, especially by me, but that’s the way it’s going to be.”

She swallowed the tangle of razor wire at the back of her throat.

Oz held her gaze. His face wore the ‘Take no prisoners’ expression.

She nodded silently and moistened her dry lips.

Oz seized upon her gesture. He gazed at her mouth hungrily before expelling a long breath and getting out of the car. He slammed his door a lot harder than necessary.

Where did he get off ordering her around like a child? She lolled against the headrest as Oz rounded the car and wrenched her door open.

Micki was vaguely aware that the drugs she’d been given were influencing her compliance as she allowed Oz to draw her from the vehicle and tuck her under his arm.

Being smushed against him wasn’t so bad. Her face hurt, her legs were leaden, her head pounded and she was emotionally drained from her trauma-inducing adventures. Yet, it wasn’t so bad having Oz put his arm around her.

She stumbled against him and he swept her up into his arms. Her whole body stiffened for a nanosecond. She had to protest. He was taking too much for granted. She should stop him right here and now.

She sighed and leaned her head on his shoulder. It felt so good to be held, to be borne like a child, like when her daddy had carried her up to her bed. She was excruciatingly tired. A little sleep would be good.

~*~

Amazon: http://amzn.com/B005LDJVRE

Barnes & Noble: http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/kill-shot-jd-faver/1105392509?ean=2940012980588&itm=3&usri=j.d.+faver

Interview with Allison Merritt

Please welcome Allison Merritt to our blog today.  One lucky commentor will win a copy of a book, so please leave a comment..

How did you get started writing?

I’ve been writing since childhood, but in middle school I made up my mind to be a writer after one of my friends declared she was going to be a writer. She moved on, but it stuck with me. A few years ago I took a break from it, but eventually the need to tell stories came back to me and here I am.

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

I started out writing historical romances and a contemporary romance, but lately with the interest in steampunk and the glow cast by movies like Sherlock Holmes, League of Extraordinary Gentlemen and Jonah Hex, I really wanted to get into writing some fantasy/adventure/steampunk romances. It’s so exciting to put a different twist on the past.

  1. Tell us about your current series.

The Treasure Hunter’s Lady is an fantasy/steampunk romance about a fiery British adventurer’s daughter and a brash Texas cowboy who have to find a legendary jewel in order to save the lives of people who are dear to them. They don’t intend to fall in love because she believes he’s after the treasure to sell it to the highest bidder and he thinks she’s a giant pain in the butt, but as they face a journey to the Dakota Territories, evil henchmen, a band of Indians and a mythical serpent, they learn they can’t live without each other.

  1. What movie best describes your life?  Why?

It might sound funny, but I like to relate my life to a horse movie like Seabiscuit or Secretariat. You always see these horses that grow to be champions after they have a rough start or life throws them a curve, but they bounce back to win a race. I like to think that with the ups and downs life gives me, I’ll manage to break from the pack and win by a dozen lengths, but heck, I’ll be happy to win by a nose too.

  1. What inspired your latest book?

I was working on a historical romance set in Australia when I started researching aboriginal myths. I read one about a god called the Rainbow Serpent, who created the world and controlled the waterways. Originally The Treasure Hunter’s Lady was set in Australia, but I had a hard time selling it to agents and publishers, so I revised it to set it in America. I had to research additional myths to supplement the plot line and change so many things. It has an entirely different ending than the first draft, but every second of revisions was worth the ending it has now.

  1. What is your favorite part of writing?

The adventure of not knowing where the characters will end up. That and writing the dialogue. I like my characters with a lot of spark and clashing personalities at first, so they keep me entertained.

  1. What is your least favorite part of writing?

Editing. I’ll look at a manuscript until my eyes cross and still miss little details.

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

My next project is a novel called The Sky Pirate’s Wife. I started writing it during NaNoWriMo in 2010 and am working on a second draft of it now. I hope to have it out by fall 2012 or early 2013.

  1. What is your typical day like?

Work, work, work. I’m a full-time cataloger at my county library, so I’m always surrounded by books. There’s plenty of time at the circulation desk too, so I often take the opportunity to write—by hand, which I later type out. Then I go home and I might go out with my husband to dinner or we’ll stay in and watch a movie. I also do critiques in the evenings and work on the Sky Pirate’s Wife.

  1. How much time do you spend promoting your books?  What works best for you?

I always try to mention it in the afternoons on Twitter. I heard someone say more people are active in the afternoons, therefore more likely to take a chance on something they haven’t seen or read before. I keep people posted on Facebook too when I’ve just put something up and I blog two-three times a week and hopefully people are getting the message there too.

I have pretty good friends on Facebook and in my local writer’s group. They can always be counted on to buy and spread the word when I have something out. You can never have too many friends eager to pass you along. I hope some of the purchases have been made when a reader stumbled along through my blog. I’d like to think I can hook ’em that way.

  1. How has your experience with self-publishing been?

So far things have been pretty slow, though they’re starting to pick up. I have two short stories up besides The Treasure Hunter’s Lady. The contemporary one is free at Smashwords and I’m pleased with the downloads. The other is a western and I think people aren’t really into westerns these days.

I love the control self-publishing allows me. I decide what the covers look like, I decide when to publish, it’s very freeing.

 

  1. Where do you get the ideas for your stories?

I’ve loved stories about the Old West since I was a teenager, so the ideas for the steampunks sort of stem from that—making up the technology for this is much harder. The historicals are the same way, I read a lot of Louis L’Amour and Leigh Greenwood with their great tales about the men and women who forged paths and took chances on love. The contemporaries are usually spur of the moment type stories, both of the shorts I have out now that are contemporary just popped into my head.

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

I really wondered if I could do it. I’m not very tech-savvy and I’m very shy, so I worry that people think I’m cramming my stories down their throats when I advertise them on my Facebook fanpage and my Twitter account. But when I sat down to learn how to format, just out of simple curiosity more than anything else, I was amazed at how easy it was. If you have a document that you can work with as you read the instructions for formatting (I started with Mark Coker’s e-book about how to format for Smashwords), then you can work on it step-by-step. I’m very visual, so that worked well for me. I also made the cover of The Treasure Hunter’s Lady, which wasn’t too difficult, but a little more frustrating. I recommend getting someone to make a cover for you if you can afford it. I still agonize over my font colors. If you have the knowledge and a good work and the determination to put it all together, don’t hesitate. There are so many people willing to help you if you network a lot and take advantage of that. You’ll never know what you can accomplish if you hide your stories in the closet and worry that you won’t be a success.

Interview and excerpt by Linda Andrews

I’m very lucky to have science fiction writer and my friend Linda Andrews with us today.  Linda will be giving away a copy of her book to one lucky commenter, so leave a comment for a chance to win.!

How did you get started writing?

I got started in writing the same way many authors do. I read. A lot. When I’m on a break from writing, I can read two small books a day or one large book plus start another book. I would go to the library every couple of weeks and take home stacks of books. Then one day, I noticed my favorite lines were disappearing. So I made up my own stories. In my head, of course. Until one day, my husband challenged me to write them down. I hate writing. It’s hard and I knew that going in. But I love a challenge and so I wrote. That book will never see the light of day. But the next one was published.

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

I do what every smart writer should avoid. I write in multiple genres. At first, I stuck to romance. But even then I was all over the map. My first published book was an historical, Ghost of a Chance with a ghost as a secondary character. My second was a contemporary with the magic of Christmas. Then I branched out into fantasy romances which inevitably led to SciFi romances that got darker and darker, until I leapt into horror and apocalyptic fiction and receded into Urban SciFi. Because writing is still a challenge to me, I have to be really excited about the story–hence the genre jumping. The moral of the story is that I didn’t pick the genres, they picked me.

Tell us about your current series.

Blue Maneuver is the start of an Urban SciFi series. What is an Urban SciFi? Well, I did kinda make the term up, but in short it is about extraterrestrials here on Earth. Oh, it gets better. Because I love conspiracies and there are plenty of documentary series about UFOs, I incorporated much of them into the series. And did I mention that many of the extraterrestrials are human? There’s also a minimum of technology used and it’s in disguise so you won’t see a laser pistol. However, you might see a key fob that shoots lasers. I do love my tech.

What movie best describes your life?  Why?

That’s a tough one. Since I watch a lot of horror movies, I’m glad my life doesn’t resemble any of those. Or has there been any zombies… Although, I haven’t been getting much sleep lately and my kids aren’t exactly morning people. Hmm, I’d have to say Miracle on 34th Street. Sappy I know. But I can be somewhat narrow-minded but my husband keeps me grounded as do my children. They also allow me to dream and share theirs with me. But most of all, I have my personal Santa who helps me get the things that are really important, like our current house—which sold 3 times but each one fell through until we were able to make an offer on it. Of course, I do believe in Santa. My husband just tells me he loves me which is code for: I won’t have you locked up.

What inspired your latest book?

Between the overindulgence of ancient alien theories, I watched a documentary that hinted that modern humans may have been on the planet for more than a million years. That’s a long time to be pounding rock. Heck, 53,000 years is a long time to pound rocks. So I got to thinking—what if we weren’t pounding rocks and picking lice off each other for all that time. What if we had left the planet multiple times in the past before the civilizations imploded? And what if Atlantis was one of those civilizations? And what if those space-faring humans wanted to come home again? And so a story was born.

What is your favorite part of writing?

Coming up with the idea for a story. Then it’s all in the dream stage, no fumbling for words, no trying to transcribe the images inside my head.

What is your least favorite part of writing?

Filling in the blank page. I love editing, hammering at those words to get them just write, but putting them on the paper with that blinking cursor taunting me, can be a bit intimidating. To overcome it, I sometimes write with my eyes closed. Which can be disastrous is my fingers are one the wrong keys.

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

Ah, I have so many. I am currently seeking an editor for two of my SciFi romance novels. They are part of a series which is set in space—sleeping beauty is awakened by a cyborg Knights Templar. I currently have to finish up a PNR comedy set around Valentine’s Day due out next year. But the next thing I’ll be writing is the second book in my apocalyptic series, Redaction—complete with nuclear meltdown.

What is your typical day like?

I roll out of bed about 4:30 to feed the cats and walk the dog. Then it’s a shower and dressing for work. I eat breakfast while checking emails and book sales/reviews. Off to twitter and FB to see if I’ve come up with something clever to say or respond to. Then I drive to work—where it’s more emails, then depending on the day I’m working on my instrument, crunching data, cleaning glassware and my labs, or performing my chemical extractions. Occasionally, I jot down ideas in a notebook for my story. During my breaks/lunch I haul out the ipad and pound out a scene. Then it’s back to reviewing data, entering data and reading journals, if there’s time. After I swing by and pick up my son, I head home where I put dinner on then make a quick walk around the park or sweep the pool and check on the plants. After dinner, I sit at the computer, check emails and sales, write some more while listening to songs on YouTube. Then if it’s Tuesdays or Thursdays, I stop at seven pull out my scrapbooking or quilting stuff and craft for an hour. At eight, I help my daughter with homework and do the dishes plus assorted chores. Then I’ll check emails or write just a smidge more before shutting down the computer and going to be at 9. Glamorous I know.

How much time do you spend promoting your books?  What works best for you?

I spend about two hours promoting, but it’s not all about me and my works. I try to visit my favorite blogs and when an author I know is blogging on another site, I stop by and comment, sometimes even buy the book. I’ll do reviews for books that I can rate 3 stars or higher, but I won’t score lower just because I understand how much work goes into creating one. I also retweet things of interest and let my followers know if an author I love is blogging and/or offering a giveaway. As for what works, I haven’t a clue. I just decided to do a blog tour. The first couple months I set up myself. The next couple, I’m going through a service. So we’ll see how that works in spreading the word about my books.

How has your experience with self-publishing been?

I’ve been very fortunate to fall in with a bunch or Indie pubs that approach it with professionalism and a long term approach (Thanks Bella Streetfor the introduction). I’ve learned a lot from them and they are very supportive. Even though my husband hasn’t read my stuff, he’s extremely supportive of everything I do. My family and friends are the same, plus there’re my fellow writers through my local RWA chapter. I’m never alone which says a lot because writing is a solitary business.

Where do you get the ideas for your stories?

Everywhere! My brain is one giant index file that is constantly cross referencing things and spitting out ideas. I faithfully record them in a notebook. Most I won’t get back to but a few have actually seen the light of day—Redaction was a story 10 years in the making.

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

Know your craft, thicken your skin and find others like you. Plus, my favorite, never stop learning.

Do you have critique partners?

I used to have 9. Now I’m down to 3. That’s not counting family who also critique my works but they’re more beta readers.

What is your favorite dessert/food?

Red Devil pepperoni pizza. It’s thin crust with a tangy tomato sauce, just enough cheese and pepperoni so no one has to fight over it. Okay, now I’m starting to drool.

How likely are people you meet to end up in your next book?

Pretty likely. My characters are a bit like Frankenstein’s monsters. They’re pieces kulled from many people. Rae, my heroine in Blue Maneuver, started with my critique partner Kim—she’s an accountant and doesn’t really like scifi. From that, she grew piece by piece until she became the character she is now.

Give us an elevator pitch for your book.

The extraterrestrials have landed, and they’re human. The only thing preventing Earth from becoming a battlefield is an unemployed accountant and her Smartphone.

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

Rae doesn’t believe in aliens nor is she tech savvy. The perfect heroine for a scifi novel, wouldn’t you say?  Her compassion is her strength—she does genuinely care from those around her, even the icky looking aliens. But the compassion also makes her weak as she wants everyone to be happy. Except those trying to kill her, of courseJ

Here is the blurb:

The extraterrestrials have landed and they’re human.

Rae Hemplewhite didn’t believe in aliens until a close encounter with out-of-this-world technology drags her into the extraterrestrial security program. Helping alien refugees adjust to life on Earth is difficult enough, but her first clients have a price on their heads. Plus, her new partner seems torn between the urge to kiss her or kill her.

And that’s the good news.

The bad news: Alliances are forming in deep space. If Rae doesn’t keep her witnesses alive long enough to transfer their top secret information to the right faction of humanity, Earth will become a battlefield.

Links:

Amazon

Barnes and Noble

Smashwords

Website

For those who would like to follow my tour, I’ll be at Sapphire Phelan‘s talking about Rae’s vow not to swear on Monday and talking about the two men in Rae’s life on Tracy Sumner’s blog, Friday the 10th .

 

Interview with Margaret Daley

I’m very pleased to have Margaret Daley with me today.  She will be giving away a copy of her book to one lucky commentor, so please leave a comment for a chance to win.

1.    How did you get started writing?

I have been writing for over thirty years. I was an avid reader of romances, especially historical ones, years ago and decided to see if I could put a story down on paper. This was before the computer was popular. I wrote my first books by longhand then typed them. So different from today.

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

I started out in the secular market writing romances, mostly contemporary with a couple of historical ones. Then in 2000 I sold my first book to Harlequin’s inspirational line (Love Inspired) and made the shift to writing Christian romances (and romantic suspense books). I love writing for that market, but I have decided to re-release some of my older books as ebooks. I’m updating them and making a few changes then self-publishing them.

3.    Tell us about your current series.

My first out of print I’m reissuing is Deadly Race, a romance with a suspense/adventure element to it. The next one is Love Gone to the Dogs, a light contemporary romance with a zany cast of characters. I have several more after that.

4.   What movie best describes your life?  Why?

The movies I watch are usually suspense/thrillers. Thankfully my life does not reflect those movies. Truthfully I can think of one.

5.    What inspired your latest book?

My latest book is Deadly Race. It was written originally years ago, but what inspired the story are movies like Romancing the Stone. Fun, suspenseful, romantic.

6.    What is your favorite part of writing?

Coming up with the story and putting it all together.

7.    What is your least favorite part of writing?

Rewriting and rewriting.

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

My next self-published work is Love Gone to the Dogs which I hope will be out by the time this blog goes up. Then I will be working on the book, The Lady and the Cop.

9.    What is your typical day like?

I write most of the day, especially when I’m under contract. I do a lot of my interviews, answering emails, etc at night.

10.    How much time do you spend promoting your books?

What works best for you? I’m spending more and more time on promoting and I don’t know what works best for me. I suppose the most important thing an author can do is write the best book she can. I answer emails and letters sent to me and try to have a presence on several social media places.

11.  How has your experience with self-publishing been?

I’ve just started and have a lot to learn.

12.  Where do you get the ideas for your stories?

From everywhere. A lot of time I don’t really know. They just occur.

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

Learn the craft, write the best book you can and then learn how to promote yourself. I wish you all good luck

Excerpt:

When you’re desperate, you do things you’d never do otherwise, Ellie Winters thought as she spied the neon sign that might possibly lead to her salvation. American Bar, Hotel Grande Costa.

Dressed in a blue satin jump suit, she paused in the doorway to the bar and glanced over her shoulder to see if those two goons—King Kong and Godzilla—were still following her. They were. Her heart beat faster. Her throat went dry. This wasn’t turning out the way it was supposed to.

Her new job was supposed to be an adventure in a country she’d never been to. Instead, she felt trapped and that frightened her enough to seek help from a total stranger. Now all she had to do was find that stranger.

Ellie moved farther into the room, scanning the dimly lit bar. She had to come up with a way out of this mess. Calling the police was out of the question, since her employer was best friends with the chief of police, and frankly right now she didn’t want to draw any more attention to herself than she already had. That was what got her into this mess in the first place. That, and the fact she was too curious for her own good.

When she heard a deep male voice, low and gruff, but definitely speaking English, her gaze fixed on a fellow American sitting at a table with another man, talking earnestly to his companion. The second man rose, said something she couldn’t hear to the American and left.

Her hand came up to touch the brooch she wore for good luck. For just a few seconds she allowed herself to feel relieved and thought finally things would work out for her. But when she saw the two goons enter the bar, her newfound optimism faltered. With a quick glance around the place, she drew in a deep breath and made her move toward the American.

“Finally I’ve found someone who speaks English,” Ellie said in a breathless voice. “You know everyone around Bella Isla speaks Spanish.”

Surprised, the man just looked at her.

* * *

Slade Calvert glanced about him, wondering if this woman had mistaken him for someone else, and noticed more than one man in the bar was covetously staring at her. Her startling beauty commanded men’s attention when she entered a room.

The woman sat in the vacant chair at his table. “You don’t mind if I join you?” Her big, blue eyes appealed to him as she leaned forward and extended her hand to him. “I’m Eleanor Winters, fellow American. But you can call me Ellie. Everyone does. I’ve just been away from home too long and I hardly speak the local language. Of course, not from want of trying, but I just don’t have an ear for foreign languages. Next time I’m going to a place where they speak English. Although that was exactly why I was hired to teach English, not Spanish. I have a friend who is a travel agent, and she said I wouldn’t have any problem getting my ideas across.”

Probably her friend was banking on some man not caring what she said, Slade thought as he took in the woman sitting across from him at the suddenly very small table. The soft scent of vanilla wafted to him. “I’m Slade Calvert.” A few minutes’ diversion wouldn’t harm him, and he could appreciate a beautiful woman as much as the next man. Like any healthy, red-blooded male it was hard to resist one when she practically sat in his lap.

The waitress appeared at her side, and Ellie immediately said, “I’ll take a rum punch with a little umbrella and a pineapple slice in it.” She indicated an umbrella and pineapple slice with her fingers. “It’s so …” she waved her hand in the air as though searching for the right word, “so tropical. I feel when you go to a foreign country you should do what the locals do. Don’t you think?” She didn’t give him time to answer but continued her chatter, bending even closer as though to impart a secret. “I think you should blend in when you’re traveling abroad.”

This woman would blend in about as well as a neon light in the dead of night, Slade thought, and gave their order to the waitress in Spanish.

When he returned his appraising gaze to the woman sitting next to him, he was struck again with the one fact that overrode all others: she was drop-dead gorgeous. A mass of silver-blonde curls framed her delicately featured face. Her sky blue eyes were fringed in dark lashes that made her eyes appear large. Her figure was voluptuous, not disguised one bit in her satiny jump suit.

* * *

Ellie shifted beneath this man’s suddenly sharp, probing gaze, crossing her legs then uncrossing them. She had latched onto the nearest American male, praying he would be easy to manage; she was definitely having second thoughts about this one. Even though he was sitting down, she could tell he was over six feet tall and his body was in superb physical condition, as revealed by the white short sleeve shirt that didn’t conceal his muscles. But what arrested her the most about this stranger was his hard, rugged features, a firm jaw line, piercing, jade green eyes, a nose that had been broken at least once, and a tiny scar beneath his left eye. She wondered how he had acquired it.

Inwardly she shivered. “I just love those little drinks with all the fruit in them. If you’re going to drink, you might as well get some nutritional value, don’t you think?” Why she ordered a rum punch was beyond her. She didn’t drink alcohol, but then she’d been so nervous when she’d spied the two men making their way into the bar right behind her, she hadn’t thought about what she was saying.

“If you want nutrition, drink milk.”

“Milk is good, too, and definitely nutritional. After all, that’s what babies are raised on the first months of their lives, but I doubt they have milk in here.” She always chattered when she was nervous and boy, was she nervous. Slanting a look over her shoulder at King Kong and Godzilla, Ellie noticed the two goons had taken a table near her. Her heart slammed against her chest. Why had she accepted the governess job? Look where it had gotten her. All she had wanted to do was see the world. Ellie leaned even closer to the American, keeping her voice pitched low so the two goons couldn’t hear. “Why are you in Bella Isla?”

“Business.”

“Oh, what kind?” Bodyguard would be good.

“I work for a computer company. Why are you in Bella Isla? You said something about teaching English to two children.”

A computer nerd? How was that going to help her? “Yes, I took a governess job here because I heard the beaches were great here. But there are so many soldiers around you can’t even get to them. What a disappointment. I should have tanned by now and just look at me. Pale as a ghost.” She didn’t add that the real reason she hadn’t tanned was that she had been a virtual prisoner at her employer’s villa. She needed this man’s help, and she didn’t want to scare him away, even if he sat in front of a computer all day. At least he was American.

“Lady, do you know a revolution is about to break loose here?”

“I’m sure they’ll get everything straightened out. Fighting is such a waste of time.” And right now she couldn’t deal with a revolution when she was sure her employer had sent two men to find her and follow her. She wondered when Godzilla and King Kong would make their move and seize her. The feeling of being trapped escalated.

The Nerdy Hero by Tracy Sumner

I’m the chick who loved the smartest boy in class. Glasses and a stunned look on his face, remember him? The brainiac.

The brainiac who turns out to be the hottest guy at your ten-year high school reunion.

What is it that we love about the sexy nerd?

Perhaps we like the fact that there is often angst beneath the calm. I like diving into the thought processes of the intelligent hero and understanding how deep thinking changes the way he interacts with the heroine. And what a surprise when these men turn out to be as wicked as their Alpha counterparts!

Noah Garrett, the hero of TIDES OF LOVE, is a sexy nerd all the way. A marine biologist and lover of restrained decision-making and practical information, he is thrown off his feet by the passion he experiences with Elle Beaumont, the woman who has adored him since they were children. I loved that he was fascinated with her – and fascinated by his reaction to her. She is the first unpredictable part of his life, the one thing he cannot control.

We don’t read too many romance novels about marine biologists in 1898! I though it was about time we did! This hero is my type, all the way. J

Happy reading. Please let me know if the sexy nerd if your type, too!

 

Excerpt:

Tell him yes. What better way to show Noah Garrett you haven’t been pining after him for ten years? “I was terribly distraught. The entire situation nearly broke my heart. I looked so forward to being Mrs. Magnus Leland.” Her voice cracked hard on the last word.

 

The muscles in his shoulders tensed; he shoved to his feet. “You’re a terrible liar, Elle. Truly dreadful. Scares me to think you would waste a chance at marriage because of a silly”—he nudged the coach house door open with his elbow and ducked through the entrance—”infatuation when we were children.”

 

She slapped the door wide when he would have shut it in her face. “Why you arrogant, boorish—” Her words caught in her throat.

 

Stacks of books covered every surface. The desk, the leather chair and ottoman, the faded settee that had once been dark magenta.

 

Cautiously, she strolled to the desk. She hadn’t seen this many books since the long nights spent in the university library. She recalled rows and rows of chestnut shelves, covert laughter, and the smell of dust. The thrill of learning, of taking control of her life for the first time; sadly, the only time. Burying the burst of longing, she hefted a leather-bound volume as thick as her wrist. “Depths of the Sea,” she read and fingered the gold tassel marking the page. “This is magnificent, Noah.” She turned the vellum slowly. “You know, I had an interest in biology once, but that, well, that was a long time ago.” She shook her head, denying the impulse to tell him.

Why would Noah care about her dream of finishing university?

 

“They’re books for the laboratory, mostly. The others are for research.” Elle felt the heat of his body before she smelled him. A rush of warmth, then the tantalizing scent of sea and man. His arm circled her waist as he lifted the book from her hand. He brushed his finger across the mark Magnus’s cheek had left on her palm.

Experience…Love, Passion, Desire with the Garrett Boys.

TIDES OF LOVE ~ TIDES OF PASSION ~ TIDES OF DESIRE (Coming: Summer 2012!)

 

Amazon: http://www.amazon.com/dp/B0066B1XTY

www.tracysumner.com

@SumnerTracy

Facebook.com/TracySumnerRomanceAuthor

 

Comment for a chance to win a copy of Tides of Love and the sequel, Tides of Passion! Also, everyone who signs up on my website to review future communications, will be entered in a 2012 Kindle drawing! Good luck!

Tracy’s story telling career began when she picked up a copy of LaVyrle Spencer’s Vows on a college beach trip. A journalism degree and a thousand romance novels later, she decided to try her hand at writing a southern version of the perfect love story. With a great deal of luck and more than a bit of perseverance, she sold her first novel to Kensington Publishing.

 

When not writing sensual stories featuring complex characters and lush settings, Tracy can be found reading romance, snowboarding, watching college football and figuring out how she can get to 100 countries before she kicks (which is a more difficult endeavor than it used to be with her four-year-old son in tow). After stops in France, Switzerland and Taiwan, she now lives in the south. However, after spending a few years in “the city”, she considers herself a New Yorker at heart.

 

Tracy has been awarded the National Reader’s Choice, the Write Touch and the Beacon – with finalist nominations in the HOLT Medallion, Heart of Romance, Rising Stars and Reader’s Choice. Her books have been translated into German, Dutch, Portuguese and Spanish. She loves hearing from readers about why she tends to pit her hero and heroine against each other and that great novel she simply must order in five seconds on her Kindle.

Ciao!

www.tracysumner.com

@SumnerTracy

Facebook.com/TracySumnerRomanceAuthor

Goodreads: http://www.goodreads.com/author/show/5259839.Tracy_Sumner

An Interview with CJ Snyder, romantic suspense author

I’m very pleased to have CJ Snyder with me today.  CJ will be giving one commentor a PDF copy of her latest book, While You Were Dead.  I’ve read it and can tell you it is wonderful.

How did you get started writing?

When I was six I wrote a poem.  My mother said it was extremely good.  As the oldest of four, I took that to mean I was very talented and should pursue a career in writing.  Lol, okay, not really.  I’ve always loved writing and things writing-related i.e. blank pages, office supply stores, freshly sharpened pencils…

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

When I was six, Santa brought me six Nancy Drew mysteries.  I had them all read by New Year’s Day.  When I was 14 I discovered Daphne du Maurier and the die was cast in solid lead.  I write Romantic Suspense.

Tell us about your current series.

The Black Fire series is about a group of men who are sanctioned to do the things no one talks about.  They work as a unit, in the country or out of the country, and they break all the rules.  It’s been fun getting to know them, getting into why they would choose this solitary lifestyle, and then watching them meet their perfect mates.

What move best describes your life?  Why?

American Dreamer.  It’s about a woman who’s married to a man who pats her on the head, but totally disregards her writing.  She wins a contest, flies to Paris, and meets the love of her life.  (Okay, so the Paris part isn’t like my life, and no one has ever tried to kill me but other than that…)

What inspired your latest book?

I brainstormed the Black Fire series with my late husband, and it’s still growing.  A new hero popped up in the middle of Dead Reckoning Book II which will be out later this year.

What is your favorite part of writing?

Whisking away to foreign locales, with dangerous men and beautiful women, all without leaving the safety of my chair.  Oh, wait—that’s reading.  Yep,  that’s what I like most about writing too.  There’s a soul-satisfying thump when all the pieces fall together that’s unlike anything else.

What is your least favorite part of writing?

Editing.  Hates it, I does!

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

I’ll have Maverick available at Amazon for Valentine’s Day.  It’s finished, just have to convert to kindle.  I’m hard at work on Dead Reckoning, Book II in the Black Fire series.

What is your typical day like?

I work as an office manager, so I have to slide my writing in when I can.  I have a great critique group (We are Scripsi) who keep me motivated and on-track.  I’m a widow with grown children so my free time is pretty much my own.

How much time do you spend promoting your books?

What works best for you?  Facebook, twitter (learning –I’m learning!), and advertising at RomConInc.com have all worked well for me.

How has your experience with self-publishing been?

I absolutely love it.  You have control.  You don’t have anyone telling you, “but you can’t do it that way.”  Self-publishing lets the reader be the judge.

Where do you get the ideas for your stories?

Everywhere.  The idea for the start of Maverick came to me while I was on the freeway in rush hour traffic.  I grabbed a pencil and jotted notes in between the starts and stops.  Sometimes I’ll dream a scene—usually the black moment scene or a beginning scene.

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

Find a friend who has already traveled the road and follow her advice! (Thanks, Cynthia!)

Do you have critique partners?

The very best in the whole world.  We’ll be having a blog up in a bit where we’ll take turns blogging about our different worlds.  We are a strange group: historical, outer space, scientific, contemporary hilarity, romantic suspense and criminal minds.  Put it all in a blender and you get us:  We are Scripsi.

What is your favorite dessert/food?

Dark chocolate anything.  Comfort food.

How likely are people you meet to end up in your next book?

That’s a trick question, isn’t it?  I must say I’ve killed off a few people I didn’t like in my time, but they wouldn’t recognize themselves.  Fair warning, though…be nice to the lady who kills people in her books.

What is most difficult for you to write?  Characters, conflict or emotions?  Why?

None of the above.  My stories thrive on all three.  The hardest thing for me is to fill in the white space.  The rooms, the scenery—I just don’t think about it when I write the first draft.  It virtually always has to be filled in later, unless it’s a part of the conflict.  In Maverick, there’s a scene where the heroine decides to camp out on the Grand Mesa in eastern Colorado.  She’s utterly unprepared for the quick-moving weather system.  Luckily, the hero is hot on her trail.

Was your road to publication fraught with peril or a walk in the park?

More like a long and winding road.  Just have to say, I’m awfully glad to be at this end of it!

Give us an elevator pitch for your book.   While You Were Dead:  The hero is a sniper with one last job to do.  Sadly, that job will cost him everything.  The heroine had her heart broken when Max disappeared.  When he turns up ten years later, not dead, and with their daughter calling him, “Uncle Max”, she’s astonished and then angry.  When their daughter disappears, they have to work together to unravel the mystery of who and why.  Time is running out.

Maverick:  Maggie Chambers will do anything to save the only family she has left.  Including robbing an FBI agent at gunpoint.  Jack Myles is the best tracker in the country.  He’s been that close to catching Maggie for two years.  Now he’s got her.  Will he turn her in or help her catch the killer who wants her dead?

Dead Reckoning:  Ten years ago, Mykael’s life was destroyed with a single gunshot from a sniper.  Determined to avenge her husband, she’ll stop at nothing to gain the sniper’s secret identity.  Black Fire Intel specialist Ghost has to deal with a woman who knows far too much about their team.  Someone wants her dead.  Can he find out who in time to save her?

Do you have a view in your writing space?  What does your space look like?

No view.  I live in the basement.  Don’t need a view, because the scene is inside my head.  Out on our deck I have a lovely view of the Rockies, though.

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

Max is black and white.  Everything in his life either fits or doesn’t.  Except for Kat.  Trying to get her round curves to fit in his military-square box makes him crazy.  On the plus side, he’s gorgeous and has a heart of absolute gold.

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

Kat doesn’t know her own strengths.  She’s fought a genetic curse ever since she was ten when her perfectly normal mother was convicted of killing her father.  She doubts herself, except when it comes to protecting her daughter.  She’ll do anything to keep her safe

Available now at Amazon.com:  http://www.amazon.com/While-Were-Dead-Black-ebook/dp/B006PTW9WW/ref=sr_1_cc_1?s=gift-cards&ie=UTF8&qid=1325275421&sr=1-1-catcorr

An Interview with Jennifer Zane

I’m very pleased to have Jennifer Zane on my blog today.  Please leave a comment for a chance to win a copy of her hilarious new romance, Gnome On The Range.

How did you get started writing?

A co-worker and I were discussing how easy it would be to write a romance novel. I said I would do it. It’s not as easy as I thought–to write any genre of book–but I stuck with it. For ten years.

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

I write Contemporary. I like to think of it as Humorous Contemporary with a Mystery. I consider myself lighthearted, but I can’t tell a joke to save my life. Instead, I like to write about life’s hiccups, the things every reader can relate to, and make fun of them.

Tell us about your current series.

I have one book out, so I’ll say it’s the first book in a series! It is set in a small town in Montana. A young widow has two boys. She works at her mother-in-law’s adult store and has a hot new neighbor. She and her children buy two ceramic garden gnomes at a garage sale. Someone wants the gnomes back and is willing to kill for them. Between an eccentric mother-in-law, a hot neighbor, two kids and someone trying to kill her, life is pretty crazy!

What move best describes your life?  Why?

Calm. In comparison to my heroine, life is pretty dull! Although, I dare to find anyone with similar challenges to Jane!

What inspired your latest book?

I lived in Montana for five years. The book is loosely–very loosely–based on my time there, people I met, things my children did.

What is your favorite part of writing?

Making myself laugh.

What is your least favorite part of writing?

Proofing. Yuck.

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

I’m contemplating my next book–to really make a series!–set in Montana. This time it will be set in the dead of winter, a completely different set of problems come up when it’s -10.

Where do you get the ideas for your stories?

Some ideas are from life experience. Yes, my son really did get his arm stuck. Not sharing the details here, you have to read the book.

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

Do it. There’s nothing to lose.

Do you have critique partners?

Yes! Each has a completely different genre and writing style so we’re great for each other. Couldn’t write without their support.

What is your favorite dessert/food?

Anything I don’t have to cook myself. Put it in front of me and I’ll eat it.

How likely are people you meet to end up in your next book?

There is very high chance of recognizing a nuance of yourself, although I never use someone in their entirety.

What is most difficult for you to write?  Characters, conflict or emotions?  Why?

Fear. I always wonder if they’re scared enough.

Give us an elevator pitch for your book.

Ever have buyer’s remorse? Jane does. For some reason, the ceramic garden gnomes she bought for her two kids have turned her life upside down. Someone wants them, and will kill to get them. She’s next. Attempts on her life are nothing compared to dealing with two crazy kids, a crazier mother-in-law who meddles, and a hot neighbor.

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

He’s a former soldier who’s done some tours in scary places and settles into life back in Montana as a fireman–and Jane’s new neighbor. He’s protective, down-to-earth and wise. But his time fighting the bad guys of the world forces him to keep those he cares about at arm’s length, afraid they might get hurt, or worse.

Tell us about your heroineGive us one of her strengths and one of her weaknesses.

Jane’s a widow who works in her mother-in-law’s adult store. She has two young boys. She’s an incredible mother, devoting her energy to her kids. But she has no life of her own since her cheating husband died–and even before then. It’s time she discovers who she is as a woman–and Ty’s going to help!

Excerpt:

“I’m not sure which one I want. I didn’t realize there were so many choices!”

The woman wasn’t on the hunt for a new car or juice boxes at the grocery store. Nope. She wanted a dildo. I called her type a Waffler. Someone who contemplated all options before even attempting to make a choice. Because of Miss Waffler, I had ten different dildo models spread out across the counter. Glass, silicone, jelly and battery powered. She needed help.

That’s where I came in. My name is Jane West and I run Goldilocks, the adult store my mother-in-law opened back in the seventies. Story goes she named it after the fairytale character when a mother bear and her two cubs walked down Willson right in front of the store the week before it opened. She called it fate. Or it could have been because her name is Goldie, so it made sense. I started working for her when my husband died, a temporary arrangement that helped her out. Three years later, things had turned long-term temporary.

The store was tasteful considering the offerings. The walls were a fresh white, shelves and displays just like you’d find at the typical department store. Then tasteful made way for tacky. Gold toned industrial carpet like you’d see in Vegas, a photo of a naked woman sprawled artfully across a bearskin rug over the counter. A sixties chandelier graced the meager entry. Goldie had to put her unique stamp on things somehow. It wasn’t a big store, just one room with a storage area and bathroom in back. Whatever she didn’t have in stock—although you’d be amazed at the selection Goldie offered in such a small space—we ordered in.   Montanans were patient shoppers. With few options store-wise in Bozeman, most people ordered everything but the basics from the Internet. There’s one Walmart, one Target, one Old Navy. Only one of everything. In a big city, if you drove two miles you came across a repeat store. Urban sprawl at its finest. Not here, although there were two sets of Golden Arches. One in town and one off the highway for the tourists who needed a Big Mac on the way to Yellowstone. The anchor store of the town’s only mall was a chain bookstore. No Nordstrom or Bass Pro Shop out here. You shopped local or you went home.

In the case of the woman in front of me, I wished she’d just go home.

Don’t get me wrong, I liked helping people and I’m comfortable talking sex toys with anyone. But this time was definitely different. Big time.

Behind Miss Waffler stood a fireman. A really attractive, tall, well muscled one wearing a Bozeman Fire T-shirt and navy pants. Can you say hot? A hot man in uniform? Yup, it was a cliché, but this one was dead-on accurate. He’d come in while I was comparing the various dildo models before I went into the perks of having rotation for best female stimulation. The first time.

“Can you explain the features of each one again?” Miss Waffler had her fingers on the edge of the glass counter as if she were afraid to touch them. Petite, she was slim to the point of anorexic. Her rough voice said smoker, at least a pack a day. Her skin was weathered, either from cigarettes or the Montana weather, and wrinkles had taken over her face. She’d be pretty if she ate something and kicked the habit.

I gave her my best fake smile. “Sure.”

I darted a glance at the fireman over the woman’s shoulder. Sandy hair trimmed military short, blue eyes, strong features. Thirties. A great smile. He seemed perfectly content to wait his turn. If the humorous glint in his eye and the way he bit his lip, most likely to keep from smiling, was any indication, he was clearly enjoying himself. A radio squawked on his belt and he turned it down. Obviously my lesson on sexual aids was more important than a five-alarm fire.

Miss Waffler was completely oblivious of, and unaffected by, the fireman. I now knew why she wanted a dildo. I picked up a bright blue model. “This one is battery powered and vibrates. Three settings. Good for clitoral stimulation.” I put it down and picked up another. “This one is glass. No batteries, so it’s meant for penetration. The best thing about it is you can put it in the freezer or warm it and it provides a varied experience.”

The woman made some ah sounds as I gave the details. I went through all the possibilities with her one at a time. I got to the tenth and final model. “This one is obviously realistic. It’s actually molded from the erect penis of a porn star. It’s made of silicone and has suction cups on the base.”

Fireman peered over the woman’s shoulder as I suction cupped the dildo to the glass counter. Thwap.

“You can attach it to a piece of furniture if you want to keep your hands free.”

Both fireman and Miss Waffler nodded their heads as if they could picture what I was talking about. “I’ll take that one,” she said as she pointed to number ten. The eight inch Whopper Dong.

“Good choice.”

I rang up Miss Waffler’s purchase and she happily went off to take care of business.

And there he was. Mr. Fireman. And me. And dildo display made three.

“Um…thanks for waiting.” I tucked my curly hair behind an ear.

“Sure. You learn something new every day.” He smiled. Not just with his mouth, but with his eyes. Very blue eyes.

Right there, in the middle of my mother-in-law’s sex store, dildos and all, there was a spring thaw in my libido. It had long since gone as cold as Montana in January. Who could have blamed it with all of my dead husband’s shenanigans? But right then I felt my heart rate go up, my palms sweat from nerves. The fireman didn’t seem the least bit phased by my little sex toy talk. I, on the other hand, was having a hot flash like a menopausal woman just looking at him.

“I’m Jane. What can I help you with today?” Hi, I’m Jane. I’m thirty-three. I like hiking in the mountains, cross-country skiing, I’m a Scorpio, and I want to rip that uniform off your hot body. I wiped my sweaty palms on my shorts.

He laughed and held out his hand. His grip was firm, his skin warm and a little rough. “Ty. Thanks, but no toys for me.” A pager beeped. He looked at it briefly and ignored it.

“Don’t you need to answer that? A fire or something?” I asked.

“Cat up a tree,” he joked.

I laughed, and heard my nerves in it. I took a deep breath to try and calm my racing heart. It didn’t work. All it did was make me discover how good he smelled. It wasn’t heavy cologne. Soap maybe. I didn’t really care if it was deodorant. He smelled fabulous.

“Actually, it was for station two. I’m here for your fire safety inspection.” He placed papers on the counter. Had he been holding them all this time? I hadn’t noticed. For the next fifteen minutes we went over fire inspection paperwork with an elephant in the room the shape of a dildo.

Ready for more? Get Gnome On The Range at Amazon!

 

Excerpt from CENTAURI MIDNIGHT

Here is an excerpt from Centauri Midnight.  I will give a copy to one lucky commenter.  Please let me know what you think of the excerpt.

At eight o’clock, he rang the buzzer to Kiti’s quarters.

“Come in.”  He heard as the door slid open.  He stopped.  She was so beautiful tonight.  She seemed to glow.  Her hair was loose, falling straight past her shoulders, nearly to her waist.  He pictured her hair curtaining them as they make love or spread on the pillow behind her afterward.

“Are those for me?” she pointed at the roses he held.

“Yes.  Beautiful flowers for a beautiful lady.”

“Thank you.”  She took the flowers and put them in a vase.  “I’ve ordered some appetizers and,” she said with great fanfare, “I have a bottle of the Royal Danexx family’s special noskberry wine from Audra.”

Her voice forced him out of his fantasy.  “I’m jealous.  She’s never gifted me with one of her precious bottles.”  He smiled wide.  “I’m honored you’d share it with me.”

She’d laid out the appetizers on the small low table in front of the sofa and had opened the wine to let it breathe.

They sat down and she asked “Would you pour?”

Garrick filled the glasses half way and handed her one.  He raised his glass.  “Here is to good friends and a successful mission.”

“To good friends and justice for our departed loved ones,”  she said before
she drained her glass.  “So, what are our plans?”

Garrick sat back on the cool, leather couch, his body angled toward her.  “Once we get to Gregara, I’ll send a landing party point team, to gather Intel on Lord Tybold.  We need to know what he’s been up to these last few months since he fled Anton’s forces.”

She refilled her glass then took a sip of the sweet, fragrant wine.  The berry flavor rested on her tongue and invaded her senses.   “We must determine which tribe Tybold has aligned with and then determine their enemies and allies.  I’ve been studying the research we currently have available.  It appears there are three main tribes on Gregara.  The Nerutas who rule in the north, the Zolthor in the west and the Otula in the east.  The south is mostly deserted, a no man’s land, inhabited by small bands of outlaws.”

“Tell me what you know about each of them,” Garrick said.  “We need to decide which one Tybold is most likely to have approached.  Then we won’t have to recon each tribe.”

“I disagree.  We need to learn as much as possible about each of them in order to know their strengths and weaknesses.  I can give you a better idea about each tribe once I’ve had time to do more research.  Right now, my preliminary information indicates the Nerutas are the most likely to accommodate Tybold. They are the most aggressive of the three and the most warlike.  They would definitely want the weapons Tybold may have to offer.”

“So the Zolthor and the Otula are allies?”

“You’d think so, common enemy and all, but that doesn’t seem to be the case.  Whereas they both will war on Nerutas, they will also go to war with each other if provoked.  Then there are the nomadic desert dwellers, which are at war with no one and act as negotiators when needed.  It’s really a interesting dynamic,” explained Kiti.

“What type of government does each have?  Are they monarchies?”  Garrick munched on some of the fried tingo root and sipped his wine.

“No.  The leadership is earned through combat.  I believe the Zolthor have the best potential for what we need.  They are the most stable of all three of the main tribes.  The current leaders, called the Valmud, have been winning the challenges for the last six generations.  Not only are they smart, but they’ve also brought their people’s technology forward twice as fast at the other two.  They’re the strongest of the three, but also the least likely to accommodate Tybold.”  Kiti warmed to her subject.  She’d done a lot of research and it was all she could do not to jump up and down with the information.

It was so nice to be able to talk to someone again.  Garrick had always been a good listener, she just never realized he was such a handsome listener.  It was almost enough to make her tongue tied.  What she wouldn’t give to be using her tongue on a certain part of his anatomy.  Good grief, Kiti, what has gotten in to you?

“Why do you say that?”  Garrick’s deep baritone brought her out of her reverie and back to the conversation.  If Garrick noticed her lapse he didn’t mention it.

“Everything I’ve read indicates the Zolthorians are an honorable people.  Honor above all.  That wouldn’t fit with Tybold, who as we know has no honor.   Tybold will have tried to gain their trust though.  He can appear to have honor when it suits him and they control the largest of the known kalcion deposits.”

“I knew it was a good idea to bring you with us,” Garrick said with a huge smile.  “Kiti, you’ve provided us with more information than we could have gathered through a month of observation alone.”

“Thank you,” Kiti felt heat rise to her cheeks at the unexpected praise.  “But my only reason for coming on this mission is to apprehend Tybold.   He’s got to pay for what he did.”

“I agree.”  Garrick changed the subject to something more palatable.  Food.  “What do we have for dinner?  Can we talk about things other than the mission?  I’ll never be able to digest my food if we don’t.”

“Sure.  Though you may have to remind me.  When it comes to Joridan and making Tybold pay, I tend to be single-minded.”  Kiti led the way to the small, square dining table.  She’d put the roses in a large glass container in the center of the table and stopped to sniff their sweet fragrance again.  She couldn’t seem to get enough of it.  “I thought we’d try one of Audra’s favorite meals.  Her mother Maggie’s recipes are in the computer and the food synthesizer can create it up for us.  It’s called “chicken fried steak with mashed potatoes and gravy.”

They looked at each other and shrugged.  Both of them had tried some of the recipes Maggie had brought back from Earth.  This was a new one.

After they’d eaten their fill of the delicious gravy covered, deep fried meat and mashed potatoes, Garrick put his fork down. “That’s not bad.  I think Maggie could teach the palace chefs a thing or two.”

“I’m sure Audra has them doing just that.  Especially now with her pregnancy she’s been hungry for all sorts of things that aren’t Centauri foods.  A great favorite of hers is pickles and ice cream.”  Kiti made a face.  “I like both, but not together.”

They laughed, shared some stories about their friends and finished the bottle of noskberry wine.  By the time Garrick got up to leave, Kiti felt a little tipsy and a whole lot horny.  It’d been a long time since she’d had sex.

So when Garrick leaned down to give her a kiss on the cheek, she turned her head and caught him on the lips. He moved to pull away, seemingly surprised by her boldness, but she would have none of it.  She grabbed the back of his head and brought his lips back to hers.  Garrick gave up his resistance and kissed her deeply before he broke the kiss and rested his forehead against hers.

“Kiti.  We can’t.  I don’t want to be rebound sex for you.”

She pulled away from him, stung by the truth of his words.  “I’m sorry, Garrick.  I…I don’t know what got into me.”

He caressed her cheek with his knuckle.  “Don’t mistake my reluctance as rejection.  I very much want to make love to you.  But when I do,” he took that same knuckle and lifted her chin until she looked him direct in the eyes, “it will be because you want to make new memories, not forget old hurts.”  With that he kissed her hard and left.  His scent remained and her body ached.

Kiti reeled.  Garrick wanted her for more than just a tumble between the sheets.  He knew about Anton and didn’t seem to mind.  Did he really care for her?  Could he love her?  That kind of thing just didn’t happen.  At least not to her.

Everyone assumed she’d been devastated when Anton and Lara announced their marriage.  In fact, she’d been relieved.  What did it say about her?  Had she been with Anton only because he was convenient, because he was familiar?  She supposed many successful marriages were based on those traits.  But she wanted more.

She wanted it all.

The kiss Garrick gave her hinted at the “more”.  Was it possible the love of her life had been this close all the time and she’d been too blind to see him?  Or was he only a rebound?  Was she reading more into his words than he meant?  Was all this just the wine talking?  She wished she knew.

Damn!!  What the hell was he waiting for?