As a writer, I always have ideas floating around in my head. Some good and some bad. The good ones get written and the bad ones, well we just try to forget those. 🙂

I’m trying something new. I want my readers to tell me what my next western book should be about.

I have several ideas. Here are a few.

1.) Sheriff Dan meets mountain girl Kaylee
2.) School teacher Sara meets saloon owner Cal
3.) Saloon girl Josie meets mine owner Robert

Or do you have other ideas? Give me your vote or your idea in your comment and you could win a $5 Starbucks card.

You have until Friday at midnight, mountain time, to give me your idea. I’ll announce the winning idea and the winner of the gift card on Saturday, September 8.

I’m getting my paperbacks for Tame A Wild Bride on Monday and I can’t wait. As much as I love my kindle there is still something about a brand new paperback that is magical. Especially when it has my name on it!

I know there are still a lot of people out there who don’t have an ereader and still buy paperback books, though to look at my sales of it you wouldn’t know it. I want to know if are finding the same thing in your sales? Do any of you sell paperback books very well or like me are they mostly a promotional tool?

I give away my paperbacks to contest winners, blog comment winners, as raffle prizes as part of gift baskets. I only sell one or two a month. So given this why do I bother creating them on Create Space when I know I’m not going to sell many?

Because there is nothing like having that book in your hand with your name on it. It is positive proof of you success as an author. We still have that mentality, at least I do, that I need a tangible book for it to be real. I know, it makes no since, since 99.99% of my sales are ebooks. I still own hundreds of paperback and hard cover books. I should give them away. Instead, I’m buying bookshelves to put them out on. Why would I do this when they’ve been in boxes for more than three years and I haven’t missed them?

Because they are books and I love books in all shapes and forms. They may be outdated, most of my treasured books are not in print any more. They are beginning to be released in Kindle format so I’m rebuying them. My paperbacks have such little type that I can’t read them anymore. I know when I design my books I make them with a larger type so that someone like me can read them. I don’t need a large print book yet, but I need something bigger than what they print. Another thing that I love about my kindle is that I can adjust the type size with the push of a button.

But I’ve rattled on here long enough. I’m going to give away a paperback copy (or ebook if you prefer) of my new book Tame A Wild Bride to one lucky commenter who tells me what kind of book, paper or ebook, that you prefer and why. Oh, I’m also giving out a $5 Starbucks card to another lucky commenter, so you have two chances to win.

I’m sitting here writing this blog when I should be writing on my next book. I know this. So why do I persist in ignoring my inner voice that tells me to write. Because I don’t know what I’m going to write.

You see, I’m a pantser. So I get stuck easily. I don’t plot because every time I do, I don’t want to write the book anymore because in my mind it’s already been done. I know it doesn’t make sense; it’s just how my mind works.

I’d love to be a plotter, know what the scene is before I write it, know where the book is going. I know the beginning and the end. I write romance. All of my books end with a happily ever after. It would be so much easier. At least that’s what I think, but I know some of my critique partners are plotters and they still struggle with scenes as much as I do. They may have a general idea what the scene should be but not the exact layout of it. Who says what to whom, where they are standing, who else may show up in the scene.

Maybe what they really are is a plantser. In other words a combination of the two. They might have the general idea for all the scenes but no details. They fly with the wind and write the scene and move on to the next one. They might have one line for the scene, i.e. Bob meets Carol, Bob and Carol make love, Bob loses Carol because he won’t admit his feelings for her, Bob discovers he can’t live without Carol, Bob admits his love for her, Carol forgives Bob, they live happily ever after. To me this is a plantser.

Whoops! Got sidetracked again. Just showing my procrastination. Did you ever see the movie UP? In it is a dog who can talk but his attention span is that of a gnat. Any squirrel gets his immediate attention and he says “Squirrel” and takes off after it. That’s me. Squirrel. I’m out chasing after it rather than doing what I’m supposed to be doing.

Ah well. Such is the life of a pantser. I’ll get back to my book and I’ll make my deadline. I always do. Maybe everyone needs some time to procrastinate, to let the story percolate in their minds before they can get it on the page, whether you are a pantser, plotter or plantser.

So what kind of writer are you? Leave me a comment, tell me what you are and why you like writing as pantser, plotter or plantser. I’m giving away a $5 Starbucks card to one lucky commenter and a copy of my latest book, TAME A WILD BRIDE to another.

First I want to thank me for having me on my blog today. LOL Seriously, I like to reward my readers, so I will be giving away one copy of my CENTAURI SERIES: THE COMPLETE COLLECTION to one lucky commenter. Be sure to comment in order to get the entry.

One of my critique partners asked me about world building. How do I do it? I answered her that I didn’t know. I just built it and they came.

Seriously, I never thought of it as world building. That has such a forbidding connotation to it. All I did was decide that I wanted this planet to use higher technology than we do. Especially since in my world they’ve been able to build spaceships that go faster than the speed of light. That has become a given in science fiction, thanks to Gene Roddenberry and Star Trek with the warp drive.

I also decided that this world would have a monarchy, that is always passed through the Queen not the King. But it would also be a British style monarchy with a senate. However, any change must be ratified by the Queen and she can make anything she wants into law without the Senate’s approval. She can request their input but doesn’t have to pay any attention to it if she doesn’t want to.

In my world, there are air cars which work like silent helicopters without the blades. Why? Because I can. It’s my world.

I discovered that I was creating lots of words for things and would get several pages in and say to myself, “What did I call rabbits in this world?” and have to go back and try to find the passage where I referred to the rabbit type animal. They are wheebee’s by the way. So I made a bible. I use this to keep track of every word I create and what it means in English. For instance, Hell is Ashara. God is Krios. These are things I need to remember especially if my character is going to swear…which they do periodically.

I discovered that I don’t need to change the name of too many things or I lose the reader. They are trying to understand what I’m calling what. I change just a few, just enough to give the flavor and not too many so as to lose the reader. I don’t want to pull them out of the story, trying to figure out what the thing is that I’ve named something. It should be seamless. It should be obvious from the sentence what the English word would be. If it’s not then I didn’t do my job.

I’ve discovered that I don’t have to change everything for the flavor of the change to be there. I want to give my readers just enough to give them the flavor of my world. I don’t write hard science fiction. I don’t concentrate on the workings of the warp drive. Other authors have already paved the way for me in that arena.

No matter what I decide my world is going to have, going to be like, I have to remain faithful to that decision. I have to be consistent, or I’m going to lose my readers and that’s the last thing I want to do.

Book Blurb from Centauri Dawn

Audra is a normal grad student in law school in Boulder, Colorado. Until the day she finds out she isn’t. She’s a princess from the planet Centauri. Her mission, whether or not she chooses to accept it, is to marry an alien and save the world, in order to save her family.

Darius is charged with delivering his brother’s bride home to Centauri, ready to be queen. Falling in love isn’t just forbidden, it’s a death sentence for him and for his world.

Book Blurb from Centauri Twilight

Lara Danexx suffered years of torment at the hands of the evil and twisted Ranzon Slavarien. But she escaped and raised an army of rebels to destroy him. Victory is within her grasp when an unwelcome intruder hunts her down and spins wild tales of her lost family and royal blood. This arrogant invader stirs her long dead emotions and threatens to ruin all of her plans. She can’t allow herself to desire his touch, or believe his lies…too much is at stake.
General Anton Coridian gave his word that he would find his beloved queen’s long lost sister, Princess Jondalara. He expects a pampered princess. Instead he finds a guerilla leader with an army of loyal cut-throats and rogues at her back. Every instinct he has demands that she is his lifemate and he must steal her away to safety. But the dark determination and pain in her eyes reminds him of his own tortured past. She offers him redemption and the chance to right an unspeakable wrong. Destiny must be laughing, because now he’s fallen in love with a woman who will stop at nothing to free her people…even if it means sacrificing herself. Anton is determined to join her, both in bed and in battle. Now he must convince Lara that his love can save not just her battered heart but her life.

Book Blurb from CENTAURI MIDNIGHT

Kitari ‘Kiti’ Dolana wants justice for her murdered brother. She’s trailed the man responsible to a distant planet where swords outmaneuver blasters.

Garrick Marcus, Spaceship Captain, is on a mission to hunt down a ruthless killer. The same man Kiti is after.

But Kiti and Garrick discover an explosive attraction that makes it hard to keep their minds on their goals. As they try to bring down the killer, they find that love and vengeance are a volatile mix.

Author Bio

Cynthia Woolf was born in Denver, Colorado and raised in the mountains west of Golden. She spent her early years running wild around the mountain side with her friends.

Their closest neighbor was one quarter of a mile away, so her little brother was her playmate and her best friend. That fierce friendship lasted until his death in 2006.

Cynthia was and is an avid reader. Her mother was a librarian and brought new books home each week. This is where young Cynthia first got the storytelling bug. She wrote her first story at the age of ten. A romance about a little boy she liked at the time.

She worked her way through college and went to work full time straight after graduation and there was little time to write. Then in 1990 she and two friends started a round robin writing a story about pirates. She found that she missed the writing and kept on with other stories. In 1992 she joined Colorado Romance Writers and Romance Writers of America. Unfortunately, the loss of her job demanded the she not renew her memberships and her writing stagnated for many years.

In 2001, she saw an ad in the paper for a writers conference being put on by CRW and decided she’d attend. One of her favorite authors, Catherine Coulter, was the keynote speaker. Cynthia was lucky enough to have a seat at Ms. Coulter’s table at the luncheon and after talking with her, decided she needed to get back to her writing. She rejoined both CRW and RWA that day and hasn’t looked back.

Cynthia credits her wonderfully supportive husband Jim and the great friends she’s made at CRW for saving her sanity and allowing her to explore her creativity.
Find her books on Amazon
TAME A WILD HEART
TAME A WILD WIND
CENTAURI DAWN
CENTAURI TWILIGHT
CENTAURI MIDNIGHT

I’m about 2 weeks away from publishing TAME A WILD BRIDE. So While we wait I thought I give you a bit of the book that started it all, TAME A WILD HEART. Two lucky commenters will receive copies of the paperback as prizes.

EXCERPT

As they pulled into the ranch yard several hours later, Catherine’s father, James, slammed out of the house followed by a very pregnant, young blond woman and a little boy.

“Did you find him?” James called as the buckboard pulled to a halt. “Did you find Zeke?”

“We found him. He’s got a broken leg but he’ll be good as new in a few weeks,” Catherine said as she jumped to the ground. “He’s going to need some tender lovin’ care, Sarah.”

Sarah ran to the end of the wagon and clamored up despite her bulk. “Zeke, honey, are you okay?” She knelt beside him, grazed his cheek with her knuckle, while tears rolled in streams down her cheeks.

Tenderly, Zeke wiped the tears from her face. “Here now, we’ll have none of that. I’m going to be fine.”

“Papa! Up!” demanded Jacob.

Duncan set the brake and went around to the back to help lift Zeke from the wagon bed. Instead a curly haired blond boy confronted him, pulling on his pant leg.

“Up Mister. Pease.” Jacob held his arms up for Duncan to lift him.

Duncan didn’t want to lift the sweet child. He didn’t want to hold this tiny body in his arms for even a moment, but it looked like he had no choice. Catherine, the only one near enough to do it, just stood there with her hands on her hips, and a grin on her face, waiting.

This small child was not going to defeat him. He’d faced desperate men, men willing to kill to save themselves from Duncan McKenzie, bounty hunter. None of them frightened him as much as this one little boy, who couldn’t be more than two or three. All Duncan had to do was bend down and lift the child, but his knees shook and he could feel himself quiver inside.

“Oh for goodness sake, Duncan, just lift him up so he can see his Papa is all right.” Catherine knew. He didn’t know how she knew, but she did. His only real weakness…children.

Getting a grip on himself, he bent and hoisted the anxious little boy up and over the wagon’s gate. He was light as a feather, so tiny…so innocent.

Catherine was beside him. “That wasn’t so hard now, was it?”

He didn’t miss the laughter in her sparkling silver gaze or the smile formed by her perfect rosebud lips. Without answering he stalked toward the house and the front door.

Duncan closed the door behind him and took a deep breath. He could still smell the fresh bread that Alice baked that morning. He glanced around the foyer, glad to see it hadn’t changed. Directly in front of him stairs led to the second floor and the bedrooms. Down the hall to the right of the stairway were James’ study and a storeroom. The formal parlor, which still looked like it hadn’t been used, was to his left. The Queen Anne chairs and overstuffed divan looked as new as when he’d helped James haul them in.

Beyond the parlor was the formal dining room. A massive oak table and chairs dominated it, in stark contrast to the lace curtains covering the windows. They hadn’t used when he’d lived there, preferring instead the comfort of the kitchen.

Duncan shook the memories from his head, turned and started for the storeroom where he heard James muttering expletives.

“Dagnabit,” James said, “I’ve got a canvas stretcher here I got for just such an emergency, if I could just get it out from behind these steamer trunks.”

“Here, let me help.” Duncan quickly moved the trunks and freed the stretcher.

“Good to see you, Son. You’ve come at the perfect time.”

“To help with this maybe,” he said, lifting the stretcher and following James out. “But not soon enough to keep this incident from happening or keep your daughter from jumping down my back for being late.”

“Things happen for a reason, Son. You’ve got to find the reason.”

“From what Zeke said, the reason is named Roy Walker.”

“He’s only part of it.” James walked out the front doors and over to the wagon. “Sarah, let’s get you down so we can get your husband out of there.” James lifted the pregnant woman easily. He looked good to Duncan. He was still as tall as Duncan’s own six feet four inches and had remained fit and strong despite his advancing age and the graying of his brown hair and mustache.

“Catherine, you and Sarah take Jacob here and make sure the way into the house is clear.”

James ruffled the lad’s hair then lifted him from the wagon. “You go help your Ma and make sure to pick up all your toys, okay?”

“Yup, Big Jim. I pick up toys.” The youngster ran off as fast as his chubby legs would carry him toward the small house across the yard. Catherine followed with Sarah, who still weeped and moved much slower now she knew her husband was all right.

He watched Catherine settled her arm around Sarah’s shoulders and calm her. “Come on now. If you don’t settle down, Doc’s going to have to deliver that baby instead of check on Zeke’s leg.”

Sarah laughed and wiped her tears away. “You’re right and Doc would not be a happy man. I’m not due for another couple of weeks.”

When they lifted Zeke onto the stretcher and off the wagon, he let out a groan. Duncan knew he tried to keep it in, but a broken leg is a painful thing. “Catherine, do you have any laudanum? Zeke could use some until the doc gets here.”

“Sure thing. Be right back.”

Before they entered Zeke’s house, James said to him, “Don’t worry about a thing. We take care of our own here on the JC. You and Sarah have a home here as long as you want it.”

“Thanks, Mr. Evans. I really appreciate knowing that. I didn’t know how I’d provide for them while I’m laid up.” Zeke raised his head from the stretcher. “I’m really sorry about this, Mr. Evans.”

“Pshaw. Think nothing of it. None of this was your fault. I’m just glad you weren’t hurt worse.”
Zeke nodded and laid his head back down. They got him settled him on the bed and walked out of the house, leaving him to Sarah’s tender ministrations.

At the front door James turned to Duncan. “I’ve sent for the doctor and after you get cleaned up I’d like for you to come to my study. We’ve got some talking to do.”

That sounded ominous to Duncan, but he nodded. “Where do I clean up?”

“In your room. I’ve had it cleaned for you.”

“I can stay in the bunkhouse with the rest of the men?”

“Don’t be ridiculous. You’re family. You’ll have your old room.” James stopped, his hand hovered above the doorknob. “This is your home, Duncan. Always has been and always will be.”

Something in the dark recesses of Duncan’s heart was moved by James’ declaration. Home. How long since he’d been any place he could call home? Ten years. There had never been anywhere else for him but here. “Thanks, I appreciate it.”

Duncan drove the wagon the short distance to the barn where he unhitched Jake and untied Wildfire, fed and watered them. He flung his saddlebags over his shoulder and headed to the house. When he finally opened the door to his room, he stared in wonder. Nothing had changed. Everything was exactly as he had left it ten years ago.

The massive bed that James had ordered special so he could stretch out his six foot four inch frame without hanging off the ends still had the same quilt on it. James’ wife Elizabeth had made that quilt for Duncan when he’d first come to live with them twenty years ago. He’d been thirteen, orphaned and big for his age. None of that mattered to Elizabeth who saw only a boy who had saved her husband’s life and now needed a home and family. He ran his hand over the quilt enjoying its comforting softness.

The bedside night table and washstand were both made of dark walnut that matched the bed, as did the wardrobe and chest of drawers. They had marble tops, a luxury Elizabeth had insisted on saying they would last forever. It appeared she was right. On the washstand were a porcelain pitcher and basin, his favorite sandalwood soap, two washcloths and a hand towel. The nightstand held a small pitcher of water, a glass, a kerosene lamp and an ashtray for his cheroots. At this point Duncan wouldn’t have been a bit surprised to find the wardrobe full of his clothes. He was almost afraid to look, but it turned out to be empty. Empty and stale, just like his life had been for the last ten years.

Putting aside his nostalgia, he quickly emptied his saddlebags, washed his hands and face, and donned a clean shirt before walking downstairs to see James.

Catherine met him in the hall. “Dad always said you’d be back. He made sure your room was ready for you.”

“And you? Did you know I’d be back?” he asked softly.

“No. I didn’t care one way or the other.” She turned on her heel and opened the door to her room. “But I hoped,” he heard her say under her breath as the door shut.

Duncan smiled.

Tame A Wild Heart on Amazon http://amzn.to/vu62X7

Tame A Wild Heart on Barnes & Noble http://bit.ly/tiwlR1

I just came back from the most fun weekend.  I was at Romcon 2012 this weekend and it was wonderful.  Lots of readers from all over the country.  One woman came all the way from Hawaii.

As an author it was so great to meet the readers.  I had some readers who brought there books for me to sign.  I sold some books, too.  But the most important thing was the readers.  They were there to meet their favorite authors, get some free books, play lots of different games.  One of the games was Strip a Hero and boy oh boy was it popular.

The most popular event at this years Romcon was the Titanic Tea.  Author DeeAnne Gist hosted an authentic afternoon tea as it would have been served on the Titanic.  Each of the attendees were given the bio of a real passenger on the Titanic and at the end you discovered whether you survived or not.

The authors that served as hostesses for the tea, came in costume and DeeAnne provided authentic hats from the time period. As one of those authors, I adored the gold and black hat with a bird in it that I wore.

Probably the greatest thing for me besides meeting my readers was the Readers Crown event at the brunch this morning.  The finalists and the winner of the Readers Crown contest were announced.  This contest is judged solely by readers and so is very important.  I’m pleased to say that although I didn’t win the Readers Crown, I did final with two of my books.  Centauri Dawn and Centauri Twilight both finaled.   You can’t imagine how thrilled I was.  I wanted to get up and say, “You like me, you really like me.” as Sally Field did after her second Oscar win.  This was like an Oscar for me.  I was thrilled to final.  I can’t explain the amazing feelings that it gave me and still gives me.

So THANK YOU to all you readers out there.  Without you, I wouldn’t be an author.  You are the ones who give me life.

First before I get started, I wanted to let you see the cover for my latest book.  What do you think?  Leave me a comment with your opinion and you’ll be entered to win a paperback copy of the first two books in the series, Tame A Wild Heart and Tame A Wild Wind.

I write in two genres which seem, on the surface, to be very dissimilar in nature.

My Tame series – Tame A Wild Heart, Tame A Wild Wind and the soon to be released Tame A Wild Bride are set in 1880’s and 1890’s Colorado.

My Centauri series – Centauri Dawn, Centauri Twilight and Centauri Midnight in present day on a distant planet called Centauri.

So what do these two series have in common?  They both are about good verses evil.  They are both about pioneers in a way.  The people in 1880’s Colorado were pioneers settling the west.  The characters that people my Centauri books are pioneers in their way too.  Fighting against slavery and for the people.  Still settling new frontiers and bringing technology to those who need it and deserve it.

In both series the villains are the embodiment of evil.  They have to lose.  I don’t want to read a book where the villain wins.  I don’t care if there is another book and he finally loses in that one.  If I read a book without a HEA (happily ever after) in some, shape or form, I’m going to throw that book against the wall and never buy that author again.

That’s what always killed me about Oprah’s book club.  If you had a book with a HEA, you’d never make it into the club.  Her books were always what is considered ‘literature’.  I don’t write ‘literature’, I write books that people want to read, that I want to read.  I write books where the good guys win.  Maybe you think that is too formulaic that my good guys always win and the story always had a HEA.  But it’s not.  It makes for a few hours of enjoyable time spent with characters that you like.

I write books that I want to read.

Books that I hope you want to read too.