An Interview with Misha Crews

Please help me welcome Misha Crews to my blog. Misha will be giving one commenter complimentary copy of Homesong in their choice of format, as well as a gift card to Starbucks. So be sure and leave her a comment so you can be entered in the drawing.

Hi Cynthia! Thanks so much for having me on your beautiful blog! It’s a real pleasure to be here.

How did you get started writing?

My first writing project was when I was about seven or eight. It was actually a full stage show (put on by myself and my friends, at a premium ticket price of 25 cents each). We had jokes, songs, and even clowns! It played to a packed house of four grownups. I had my taste of creativity, and I was hooked.

Tell us a little about yourself and your latest book.

Well, my most recent release is actually a re-release of my first novel, Homesong. It’s a multi-generational story about a small town called Angel River, Virginia, and it’s told from the perspective of two childhood sweethearts who are reunited on a Caribbean cruise. It was originally published in 2008, and was a finalist for the Bronte Prize for Romantic Fiction. I’m really tickled that it’s available again on Kindle, and is coming soon in Nook and paperback (yay!). In fact, one commenter on this blog will receive a complimentary copy of Homesong in their choice of format, as well as a gift card to Starbucks. (Yay again!)

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

I refuse to answer on the grounds that it may… oh, heck with that. It depends a lot on the person and the circumstance. There’s no denying that parts of people I know – gestures, mannerisms, etc. – end up in my writing. That’s part of the fun of it!

What is your favorite part of writing?

Getting to know the characters. Each book is like making a whole new set of friends: learning their stories, what their families are like, what makes them laugh and so on.

What is your least favorite part of writing?

Getting my new friends into trouble! I hate putting my characters through unhappy times, making them suffer. But at least I also get to take them through to their happily ever after (at least, most of the time!).

What genres are you drawn to as a reader?

When I first started reading I was a total mystery addict. Nowadays I’m drawn to romance with a touch of mystery, especially stories that have gothic elements. But really I’ll read anything! As long as it’s well-written and interesting, no genre is out of the question.

Do you prefer to read in the same genres you write in or do you avoid reading that genre? Why?

That’s an interesting question! There have been times when I haven’t wanted to read in my genre, because I was afraid I’d be influenced too much by other writers and wouldn’t be able to create an original story. But these days I enjoy reading the genre that I’m working on, because it puts me totally in the mindset of what I’m writing, even when I’m relaxing.

What’s next for you?

Well, I had so much fun reviving Homesong that I decided to spend some more time in the fictional town of Angel River. There’s a quartet of novellas in the works, with some new characters (and a few old friends). All four novellas will be out in 2013.

* * *

About the Author

Raised in a family of book lovers, Misha’s mother first encouraged her to read by offering to pay her two cents per page of Hop on Pop, by Dr. Seuss. At first Misha was happy just to be raking in the cash, but before long she traded the pennies for the riches of the written word, and since that time she’s seldom been seen without a book in her hand, in front of her nose, or at the very least in her purse! Misha is married and is currently living and working in Northern Virginia. She welcomes messages about writing, reading, workshops, ice cream, antique typewriters, stuff that make you laugh, etc., and can be contacted via her website: MishaCrews.com

About Homesong

In a small town, everyone knows everything about everybody. Or do they?

For twenty years, Kate Doyle has been haunted by the night when she was forced to flee from her tiny Virginia home town and abandon her childhood sweetheart, Reed Fitzgerald. So when Kate, now in her mid-30s, escapes her unhappy life in Washington, DC and takes a much-needed vacation, the last thing she expects is to be reunited with Reed. Now, under the warm clear Caribbean sun, amid ancient churches and pink flamingos, Kate and Reed seek to revive the love that they thought was gone forever.

But will small-town secrets ruin their last chance for happiness? Woven into the modern tale of Kate and Reed are the tales of those who came before them. Their mothers: teenagers in the chaotic 1960s, best friends who are in love with the same man, although only one of them knows it. Reed’s grandmother: already a bitter old woman by the 1930s, she would do anything to carry on the family name…and would drive away anyone who came between her and her grandson. And even the founder of the town: in 1865, what guilty secret drove one man to bring his two daughters across the ocean from Ireland and settle in the dark Virginia hills?

At its heart, Homesong is the story of a small town: its lies and truths, its beginnings and endings. It’s about proud secrets, unrestrained joy, and the old adage that you may leave your home, but it never really leaves you.

Excerpt from Homesong

It was dusk when they finally returned to Bonaire Horseback Tours. The day had been long, hot, and sticky, but the scenery was beautiful, and the tour had been very entertaining.

When Kate dismounted and waved a final goodbye to Stacy, she was amazed by how tired and sore she was. She had forgotten how strenuous horseback riding could be. And she wasn’t alone in her exhaustion. The entire group was silent with fatigue as the transport lumbered back to the ship.

Hot breezes blew through the gathering dark, spiced with the smell of tropical dishes and ringing with the distant sound of music. It made Kate long to wander the city and find the sources of those enticing sounds and smells. But by the time they got back to the ship, all she wanted was a hot shower, a bite to eat, and a long night’s sleep.

Then Reed gazed down at her with those soulful, luminous eyes. Holding her hand, he murmured a suggestion, and Kate found herself nodding in agreement. She trailed after him to his stateroom, and ten minutes later, she was soaking in his whirlpool bathtub, up to her chin in fragrant, frothy water. She had closed her eyes in modesty as he showered in the frosted glass stall adjacent to the tub, and had promptly drifted into a doze.

The sound of the shower turning off roused her, and she rubbed her face with wet hands as she struggled to stay awake. “I have to warn you,” she called. “I’m falling asleep out here.”

“Don’t worry,” he called back. “The bath balm will help with that.”

“What’s in it, anyway?”

He opened the door and stepped out, a long towel wrapped around his waist. Although she knew he couldn’t see through the frothing water, she folded her arms discreetly over her breasts as he stood looking down at her.

The motion wasn’t lost on him. He knelt beside her and stroked her cheek, intensely aware of how close together they were. The steam from the shower enveloped them, combining with the scent of the bath to form a heady fog that seemed to draw them together.

“Lemon and peppermint for energy,” he answered softly. “Epsom salts and baking soda for tired muscles.”

She felt herself blush as if he had propositioned her.

He let his finger slide along her jawbone and down her neck, pausing as he traced her collarbone. A few inches more and his hand would disappear under the frothy water, slide under her sheltering arms and cup her breast.

He could imagine how soft her flesh would be there — warm from the water, her nipple pressed against his palm. His mouth went dry at the thought, and he couldn’t quite get his breath.

He could see the pulse beating hard in the hollow of her neck, and he knew she wanted his hand to drift under the water, wanted his fingers to wander where they would. A smile ghosted around his lips. When his eyes met hers, they were bright with longing.

Reed stood up. Kate swallowed hard and struggled to pull herself together. His touch on her damp skin had been achingly gentle, sending hot chills rushing over her. She’d had to fight to keep herself from dragging him into the tub, towel and all.

An Interview with Norah Wilson

Help me welcome Norah Wilson to my blog to day. Her new book, Comes The Night will be available on December 1 and you’re seeing the cover here first. It ROCKS!

Please leave Norah a comment and be entered in to a drawing for a $10 gift card or an ebook. There will be two winners.

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

With my solo writing, I write romantic suspense and paranormal romance. But I’ll tell you a secret – the paranormal romance is just romantic suspense with the addition of supernatural beings.  At least that’s my approach. As for the why of it, I love how the strong external plot gives me something to hang the romance on. Straight up contemporary romance is my first love, but when I tried to write it, I found it positively exhausting trying to come up with stuff for them to do. The strong suspense plot gives them plenty to worry about, and the romantic development becomes so much easier once I’ve thrown them together in a high stakes battle. You know the axiom that true character is revealed under pressure? When I throw them into this crucible, the characters come to know each other’s character on a very fundamental level in a relatively short time. That totally appeals to me!
I also write young adult paranormal with writing partner Heather Doherty. Again, that fast-paced, suspenseful plot really helps! Heather and I also write the laugh-out-loud Dix Dodd cozy mystery series. I can find no explanation for that. LOL! You’d have to read one.

Tell us about your current series.

My best selling series right now is the Serve and Protect Series, which are romantic suspense stories featuring sexy police detectives (with a police K-9 handler thrown in there). I guess you’d call them women in jeopardy stories, if you feel the need to pigeonhole them. But that doesn’t mean my heroines are shrinking violets. They are strong, smart women who just happen to find themselves in situations where they need protection.

Also doing reasonably well is my Vampire Romance series. I wish I could entice more of my romantic suspense fans over to the dark side, since these books really are nail-biting suspenses.

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

It’s a joint project with my writing partner, Heather Doherty. By December 1, 2012, we expect to have the first book in our Casters series of YA paranormal/horror launched. It’s called Comes the Night, and it’s sooo scary. We’ve created a whole new entity. Three girls who are sent to a boarding school which is just one step away from jeuvie find a way to escape their pain by literally escaping from their bodies. There are four books planned in the series, to be released over the course of 2013.

How has your experience with self-publishing been?

It’s been extraordinary. I got in early – the summer of 2010. I was – and still am – agented, but I had a number of books that had already made the rounds of appropriate traditional publishers, with no takers. I came to the conclusion that they were never going to sell to New York and I had nothing to lose by self-publishing them. Well, with the possible exception of my reputation. At that point, self-publishing was still pretty much synonymous with vanity publishing. But I’d been listening with great interest to fellow author Delle Jacobs, who is the first author I knew personally to take the plunge. I figured if it was good enough for Delle, for whom I have enormous admiration, it was good enough for me. Sales started slow, but about six months in, they exploded. Apple was the first market I penetrated with any substantial numbers, and they are still a very important market for me, but after I put my free loss leader short novella on Amazon and they price-matched it to free, my Amazon sales came on very nicely. At this point, I’m not out there leading the indie pack, but I’m comfortably somewhere in the middle. 

Right now, I’m fortunate enough now to have a book out with Montlake Romance (Every Breath She Takes, Sept. 2012), and I’m thrilled with what that has done for my indie sales.

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

I love talking about my heroes! Since your focus is indie, I’ll talk about John Quigley, or Quigg, from Guarding Suzannah, the first book in my Serve and Protect series. Quigg is strong, protective and sexily capable, but he may also be the least Alpha hero I’ve written. In a lot of ways, he’s smarter, more patient and better adjusted than a lot of those out-and-out Alphas who can sometimes go off with very little provocation. He’s the son of a laborer and sees the heroine, Suzannah, the daughter of a chief justice, as somewhat out of his league. Suzannah, a criminal defence attorney, is also abhorred by his colleagues on the police force for her habit of demolishing them on the witness stand. When Quigg discovers Suzannah has a stalker, he has to walk a fine line between solidarity with his colleagues and his need to protect this beautiful, independent woman who refuses to make an official complaint to a police force she half suspects is behind the harassment. When she refuses to go to police, he appoints himself as her protector, whether she wants it or not. Of course, with his patience and steadiness, he turns out to be the perfect match for the sexually and romantically skittish Suzannah.

Do you have any words of inspiration for aspiring authors?

Absolutely. Don’t give up. There are more avenues than ever before for authors to succeed. But even with the self-publishing avenue open to anyone who wants to take it, there will be challenges. Discoverability in a world where shelf space has become unlimited is the new mountain to be scaled. I know lots of amazing authors who toil in relative obscurity. But here’s the thing – if you self publish, you can have a successful career writing to a relatively small niche. For instance, New York has pretty much declared the romantic suspense dead, and only the superstars of the genre continue to sell at a clip that will support a traditional publishing career. Traditional publishing requires a blockbuster of a book to make it a profitable undertaking. But as an indie, there are more than enough romantic suspense fans to support my books. And for readers, the genre has been revitalized by the indie movement, with more choice than ever before. So yes, it’s a challenge, but you can target a niche market and write to it. Work on your craft. Deliver a quality product. Work with an editor. Commission a cover that looks great in thumbnail and which SCREAMS the genre. Make it available on as many platforms as you can. Build you fan base with another book and another book.

Thank you for hosting me, Cynthia. It’s been a blast!

Excerpt from Guarding Suzannah (Serve and Protect Series, #1)

She looked so thoroughly disheartened, way beyond what a flat tire should cause. “Relax, Princess.” He pushed away from the pillar. “I’ll change your tire, have you on your way in five minutes.”

“Don’t bother,” she clipped. “I’ll call CAA.”

“Hey, I can handle this. Besides, with any luck, I’ll get dirt or grease all over me and won’t have to go back in there.” He indicated stately Old Government House with a nod of his head.

“Thanks for the offer, but I don’t have room in my trunk for four spares.”

“Four?” He blinked at her. “They can’t all be flat.”

“They can if they’ve been slashed.”

Quigg shot a look at the valet, who nodded a confirmation, then retreated back to his station.

He gripped her elbow. “What’s going on, Suzannah?”

Calmly, she removed her arm from his grip. “Nothing that’s not par for the course, Detective.”

“Jesus, your tires are slashed and you don’t even bat an eyelash?”

She opened her ridiculously tiny beaded purse and pulled out an even tinier cell phone. Seconds later, she was talking to the CAA dispatcher. Cripes, she had the auto association on her speed dial? He listened as she gave her situation and her location.

“Wanna explain what’s going on here?” he asked as she tucked the phone away again.
She shrugged, an elegant lift of the shoulder. “Just the cost of doing a little criminal Legal Aid in this town.”

“What’s that supposed to mean? And why wasn’t your first call to the cops, especially if this isn’t the first time it’s happened?”

“The police.” She laughed, a surprisingly grating sound that lacked real amusement. “Yeah, that’d work.”

Quigg sucked a breath in through his teeth. “You think cops did this?”

She arched a delicate eyebrow. “Congratulations, Detective. I’ll bet you graduated top of your class.”

“No.”

“No? Gosh, with those deductive powers, I’d have –”

He stepped closer. “No, it wasn’t a cop who did this.”

Her bosom lifted on a long inhalation, but she didn’t huff out an impatient sigh as he half expected.

“Look, I’ve been around the block a few times, Detective. I know I haven’t endeared myself to you guys. I also know you stick together –”

“But not like this –”

“Hey, I understand. Really. The blue wall. You’re charged with enforcing what amounts to a pretty puritanical code, one that abhors improprieties like drunkenness or lewdness. So you avoid those social situations where you might make a hypocrite of yourself. Then, before you know it, your social sphere includes nothing but other cops.”

“Can I just say –”

“It’s okay. I totally get it. You put that uniform on, that badge, and it isolates you from your friends, from your community, even from the legal system. Which sets up the us/them solidarity thing. So when a guy gets a rough ride from me on the stand, of course the rest of you are going to empathize pretty strongly with him.”

“Thank you, Dr. Phelps, for that lesson on police sub-culture. But read my lips – it wasn’t one of us slashed your tires.”

When reality collides with fantasy… or why I love to write paranormal.

Please help me welcome Lynn Cahoon to my blog today. Lynn will be giving away an ecopy of The Bull Riders Brother to one lucky commenter so be sure and leave her a comment.

When things get too busy for me and I haven’t dealt with the problem in my conscious mind, I have a dream. It’s the too-many-puppies dream. I’m in charge of all these cute little puppies (or kittens) and they just keep taking off on me. I just get one corralled and another one disappears.
I had that dream last night. But I didn’t realize it was the too many puppies dream until much later after I had started my day. Because I’d upped the plot line. There was a plane crash, and a secret coin with magical powers, and, my too-many-puppies dream had morphed into a better story. One where your choices are between suck and suckier.
And that’s the life of an author, when your dreams are even in revision mode.
Parris McCall knows the dream. She banished fantasy out of her life the day her folks died in a car crash. Now, it’s reality. Who cares if she’s different? As long as she keeps her bar running smoothly, she doesn’t have to worry about the weird things that happen around her. At least, until Ty Wallace walks into her bar one night. One kiss and she knows she wants more. So when her Grans gets a letter and needs some legal help, Parris knows who to call in to help.
And the puppies start running.
So do you have a stress dream?

BIO – Lynn Cahoon is a contemporary romance author with a love of hot, sexy men, real and imagined. Her alpha heroes range from rogue witch hunters to modern cowboys. And her heroines all have one thing in common, their strong need for independence. Or at least that’s what they think they want. She blogs at her website, A Fairy Tale Life. www.lynncahoon.wordpress.com
Blurb –
A rogue hunter, a clueless witch and a mission to save an unknowing world.

Parris McCall, owner of the dive bar, The Alibi, has finally constructed a life where her little quirks don’t show or matter to anyone. As for her grandmother’s warnings that she’s different, well, she’ll cross that bridge if she comes to it. But when Ty walks into her bar, both lives are instantly changed.

Ty Wallace loves his life. How could he not? He’s a powerful human lawyer by day and the Magic Council’s rogue witch hunter by night. But after he agrees to substitute on his
secretary’s dart team, all hell breaks loose. Now Ty has to help Parris admit who she is before her long-lost relatives kill her.

A Lyrical Press Paranormal Romance

Excerpt –
“Sally knows how to recruit a substitute.” Parris looked in his brown eyes, juggling her darts. “You’ve never played before?”
Ty shot her a smile designed to melt the coldest of hearts. Yes, he knew what he was doing all right. At least in the flirting department. Parris’ knees felt weak looking at him.
“I swear. I’ve never played league before. Beginners luck.” Ty motioned to the dart machine. “You ready or you want to throw a few practice darts?”
Parris’ eyes narrowed. Ha. He’d said he’d never played league before, not ever played before. Sally had brought in a ringer. Confident, she shook her head. “I’m ready to get this over.”
“Pretty sure of yourself aren’t you?” Ty tilted his head to the side, watching her reaction.
“You don’t have to be cocky when you’re good.”
“And you think you’re good?” Ty pressed. “A natural?”
She frowned, her face crinkling. “I have a lot of free time on my hands here when there’s nothing to do except practice.”
Another couple hours and Ty Wallace would be out of her sight, her bar, and her life. She wished erasing him from her thoughts and dreams would be as easy.

Buy it now at AMAZON.

An Interview with Mara Jacobs

Help me welcome Mara Jacobs to my blog today. Mara has generously offered to give away 3 ebook copies of her book to 3 commentors so be sure and leave her a comment.

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

I write 2 series that are romantic mystery series, as well as contemporary romance. I like my happy endings!

Tell us about your current series.

The Worth Series is a contemporary romance series featuring three life-long girlfriends who are now in their mid-thirties. Subtitles are The Nice One, The Pretty One, and The Smart One. Each woman was pegged with their title in school and in some ways it has shaped the women they’ve become —and yet they’re so much more.

What inspired your latest book?

Worth the Drive, the second Worth book, was totally inspired by my long-time crush on professional golfer Jose Maria Olazabal. Very fun to play out that fantasy!

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

This is very new to me—I just debuted with my indie books in October—so I’m still feeling out what works. I’ve done some ads, some blogs, and the usual social media outlets. I truly believe that the best promotion is getting the next book out, so I’ve really tried to concentrate on spending my time writing.

How has your experience with self-publishing been?

So far, so good. My agency, Writers House, was offering the expertise of a self-publishing service to their authors if they were interested. I decided to do my first 3 books through them, and my 3 Worth books myself so I could compare and contrast the experiences. I’ve found pros and cons to both venues—timing and control being a pro of doing it all yourself. And of course the time taken away from writing by doing it all yourself (or hiring those to do things like formatting, cover art for you) is a major con. It’s been an interesting process and I learn something new about it all everyday.

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

Weigh out time vs. money when deciding what to do yourself and what to hire out. Is it time that would serve you better in the long run by writing the next book instead of spending time learning to format, etc? Having said that, I do believe you HAVE to get professional looking covers and editing done from an outside source unless you have strong graphic design skills.

Do you have critique partners?

Yes, and they have been instrumental in my continuing to write. They are both very different (and awesome!) writers and bring different things to the table on the critiques they do. Hopefully I do the same for them. One of our three-some is multi-published with the major houses as well as self-published and a great wealth of information on the publishing industry.

What is your favorite dessert/food?

Red Velvet Cheesecake from the Cheesecake Factory. Thank God I don’t have one near me!

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

Probably conflict, because I honestly believe that we’re sometimes our own biggest conflict. Internal conflict, to me, is more human that outside conflict – at least in contemporary times. And yet, a book with ONLY internal conflict may not be everybody’s cup of tea. So, the hard part for me is balancing internal conflict (which is easy for me) with external conflict (which is not so easy).

Give us an elevator pitch for your book.

For Worth The Weight: Woman loses half her body weight and heads to her hometown to try out her new body on an old flame.

What are you currently working on?

The third Worth book, Worth The Fall, is just wrapping up and I’ll have it out right around Christmas.


Excerpt

“God, I love the smell of theater popcorn, there’s nothing else like it.”

Finn Robbins heard the female voice from behind him. He couldn’t say the same. The smell of fresh popcorn made him sick. It seemed the aroma stayed with him wherever he was, the buttery stuff burning into his nose with every breath. It was enough to make him puke.

It’d been okay when he’d worked here years ago, but this time around it was too much. Everything was too much.

Something about the voice made him turn. Three women stood at the concession stand counter, one of the new high school kids waiting on them. Finn had his head buried, connecting a new Coke tank. The old tank had just died, spraying Coke all over his white shirt. Just another sign that the universe was having a good laugh at him.

He checked out the women. Mostly all he saw were packs of kids and couples at the theater. It was refreshing to see a group of thirty-something women together. The two he could see were striking, but in very different ways. Completely opposite in looks. The first was tall and Nordic looking, and strikingly beautiful. A Viking princess. The other was all soft curves, darker skin and hair, but still blonde. A dark Finlander and a light Finlander, the two mainstays of the Copper Country.

There was something a little familiar about them. Maybe they came to the theaters often? He dismissed that. He’d have definitely remembered the Viking.

The woman behind the two got her order and turned, allowing Finn to see only a flash of long black hair ending just above a wonderfully lush butt. He tried craning his neck, but from where he stood he couldn’t get a clear view of her.

Those damn high school kids were too fast. They had the women’s orders done before Finn had a chance to get out from behind the counter and get a proper look. He wanted to figure out where he knew the two from, and definitely wanted to see the third.

There was something about that voice. Maybe he could catch a glimpse of them after the movie as they left the theater.

Lizzie Hampton couldn’t concentrate on the movie, which was unusual. She, Katie and Alison had been seeing movies at the Mine Shaft together since sixth grade when they were finally allowed to go without parental supervision.

One parent would drop the three girls off in downtown Houghton. They would see the movie, then cross the street to the Big Boy for a hot fudge ice cream cake. One of the other girls’ parents would pick them up in front of the Big Boy exactly one and one-half hours after the movie was scheduled to get out. In that time, the girls would dissect the movie while plying themselves with the decadent dessert.

Over time, the girls’ critiques of the movies went from “isn’t he dreamy” to “the use of the wide angle lens by the director was really effective.” Although isn’t he dreamy never really went out of style. They had progressed from parents’ pick up and delivery service, to being old enough to walk on their own, to driving their parents’ cars, to driving their own.

Now they were back to walking across the bridge from Hancock to Houghton, but this time for the exercise. The Big Boy had long closed down, but Lizzie fully expected the Pavlovian response of craving hot fudge the moment the credits rolled.

Except tonight, she wasn’t immersed in the movie. “He didn’t even know me. Not a flicker of recognition,” she said out loud, as much to herself as her friends.

“SSSHHHHH,” came a voice from behind them.

Amazon Buy Link – http://amzn.com/B009MZQMAQ

BIO

After graduating from Michigan State University with a degree in advertising, Mara spent several years working at daily newspapers in Advertising sales and production. This certainly prepared her for the world of deadlines!

Most authors say they’ve been writing forever. Not so with Mara. She always had the stories, but they played like movies in her head. A few years ago she began transferring the movies to pages. She writes mysteries with romance, thrillers with romance, and romances with…well, you get it.

Forever a Yooper (someone who hails from Michigan’s glorious Upper Peninsula), Mara now resides in the East Lansing, Michigan, area where she is better able to root on her beloved Spartans.

Excerpt from Gnome for the Holidays by Jennifer Zane

Welcome, my friend Jennifer Zane to my blog today. Jennifer will be giving away one of her ebooks (winners choice) to one lucky commentor today, so be sure to leave her a comment.

Thanks, Cynthia for having me here today! I was at one of the big box hardware stores last month—before Halloween, mind you, and all, ALL of the Christmas decorations were out. Now, a week before Thanksgiving, I drive around and see more holiday lights up every day. Needless to say, no matter where you live in the US, it seems Christmas is starting earlier and earlier. (All those election ads on TV- the only thing positive about them is they delayed the inevitable onslaught of holiday commercials by at least a week!)

Since everyone is getting into the holiday spirit now (forget Thanksgiving!), I think my new book release is right on time. Gnome For The Holidays is the third book in the Gnome Novel Series. Some of the same great characters make a return appearance—yes, Goldie and her meddling, for a holiday story of humor and matchmaking.

I hope your holiday season is wonderful—no matter when it starts for you.
Jennifer Zane

Here is an excerpt from Gnome For The Holidays, on sale now at Amazon and AllRomanceEbooks.com.

“MeMe Hardy. It’s been too long!” Goldie called to me as I stomped my boots. She was the owner of Goldilocks, the local, and only, adult store in town. She’d opened it well before I was born and it was practically a historic landmark, although I’m sure Goldie wouldn’t appreciate that description. It sold anything and everything sex related, from condoms to crotchless panties to fingertip vibrators. Even in a town of less than thirty thousand, business boomed.

I winced at the childhood nickname. When I turned eighteen and went away to college in California, I was able to shed that moniker and take on my given name, Emma. But there were a few die-hards in town still that remembered me when I was three and couldn’t say my own name right. I’d been back in town six years and was pushing thirty, but I’d still be MeMe to some. My mother, my aunt Sissy, a silly name in its own right, and Goldie.

“Sorry I’m late,” I tell Goldie and Violet, both behind the counter, piles of what looked like lingerie spread out before them. I pulled my knit cap from my head and tucked my blond hair behind my ears, taming the static out of it.

My friend Violet looked at me trying not to laugh and mouthed, “MeMe?”

I rolled my eyes at her. “I got stuck behind a snow plow.”

Goldie nodded as she took her glasses off her nose and let them dangle over her ample bosom by a sparkly, rhinestone covered chain about her neck. “That’s the safest place to be on a day like this. What can I get for you today?” Goldie looked me over, as if by looking at me she could guess just what I needed. “A new bra.”

Oh, great. She could see gravity setting in through my heavy winter coat.

She rubbed her chin. “No, you’re here for a vibrator.”

I could feel my cheeks heat at her words but I couldn’t help but chuckle. “Nope,” I answered as I shook my head, leaving her hanging. Talking vibrators with Goldie, who was friendly with my mom, was just about as bad as talking about it with my mom herself. Not that the vibrator in my bedside stand couldn’t use an update, or at least new batteries, but I wasn’t planning on telling her that.

“No vibrator for me today, Goldie. Thanks though.” I smiled brightly.

“Well, just give me a call when you’re ready and I’ll pick out a top of the line model for you. You know,” she waggled her eyebrows and twirled her finger in the air, “the one that has that spinning middle.”

My mouth fell open at the thought. I wasn’t sure if I should be mortified or intrigued at the very idea.

Ballroom Etiquette by Susan Macatee

Thanks so much for hosting me today on your blog, Cynthia!

You’re welcome Susan. Everyone please help me welcome Susan Macatee back to my blog. She has a great prize for one lucky commentor so be sure and leave her a comment or question.

My post today is about Ballroom etiquette during the American Civil War period.

Although the setting for my Civil War Christmas story, The Christmas Ball, opens in a Civil War camp where the heroine is disguised as a man to serve as a soldier, the story ends in Washington, D. C. at a lavish Christmas ball. I thought I’d talk about the types of balls given during the war years and the rules for the attendees.

A few of the things I learned were:

1. Nineteenth century Americans were class conscious. They didn’t mix with people above or below their class.

2. A formal introduction had to be made when meeting a new person. Only after such an invitation, could people greet one another and gentlemen were permitted to ask ladies to dance.

3. Balls could be private, invitation only affairs, or public, open to everyone. Attendees of the latter type of ball purchased tickets, the proceeds going to various causes. During the war, they were used as fundraisers on both sides.

4. Ladies never asked gentlemen to dance. If a gentleman wished to dance with a married lady, he had to ask her husband first.

5. Round dances (waltzes, polkas) were considered scandalous throughout small town America during the war.

6. Dancing was considered the first drill for young men who would ultimately become soldiers. Formation dances taught right from left, timing, how to maneuver in formation and team work.

7. Young ladies attending balls should only do so under the protection of a married lady or elderly gentleman.

8. A lady should not be left unattended at any time in a public assembly.

9. Husbands should not dance with their wives, except for the first set.

10. If a couple falls during a dance, it is almost always the man’s fault.

Love that last one. For more information on period balls, visit this site.
http://www.civilwardance.org/articles.htm

Blurb: While pretending to be a male soldier, farm girl Sara Brewster falls for a handsome Union army surgeon. When her secret is revealed, will a lavish Christmas Eve ball work in her favor–or will her heart be broken?

Kirk Ellison is shocked to discover the assistant he thought of as a boy is a young woman disguised as a man. As his feelings for Sara grow, he must convince her she can fit into his society life, if he’s to make her his own.

Excerpt:

Sara closed her eyes and breathed deeply. Doc Ellison’s kiss had scattered her senses. For months she’d dreamed of being in his arms. As he reached for the buttons on her shirt, her breath caught. His hands on her body thrilled her. She’d never felt like this before.

After loosening the buttons, he opened the shirt and gazed at her bosom.

She studied him, wondering what he was thinking. Did he like what he saw?

He dropped his hands and half-turned away.

“Please,” she gasped. “Don’t stop.”

Turning back, his gaze roved over her. She tried to read his expression. Was that desire she saw, or disgust?

“We should be going now,” he said. His gaze dropped to the hay strewn ground.

“No!” Boldly she reached out and fingered the buttons of his coat. He didn’t move as she slowly undid them and parted the material. Her fingers tingled as they brushed over his shirt, feeling hardened muscle beneath.

His breath hitched, but he gently pushed her away. “Miss Brewster, we mustn’t…”

“Doc!” A shout from outside, startled her. She jerked away from the doctor and scanned the barn opening.

“Yes,” Ellison called. He eyed her. “You’d best go.”

She nodded, hurriedly fastening her buttons. One of the other stewards approached. His dark eyes slid from her to the doctor. “They don’t need me in the hospital tent, and told me to come on over and give you a hand.”

Ellison glanced at Sara. “We’re about finished here. I was on my way back.”

“All right, Doc,” the soldier said. “I’ll head back with you.”

She swallowed, not sure she could find her voice. “Ah… I’m off duty, so I reckon I’ll head back to my tent.”

Ellison reached up and gave her shoulder a squeeze. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

She caught his gaze, trying to gauge his thoughts. Would he have allowed her to undress him if they hadn’t been interrupted?

The Christmas Ball releases today from The Wild Rose Press. http://thewildrosepress.com
http://www.thewildrosepress.com/index.php?main_page=product_info&cPath=195&products_id=5026

For more information on my other Civil War set romances, visit my website: http://susanmacatee.com

And if you leave a comment on this post today, you’ll have the chance to win a pdf copy of The Christmas Ball and a $10.00 gift certificate for The Wild Rose Press.

An Interview with Lily Rede

Please help me welcome Lily Rede to my blog today. Lily had generously agreed to gie away and ecopy of her book today to onw lucky commenter so be sure and leave ehr a comment.


How has your experience with self-publishing been? What advice do you
have for other authors wanting to self-publish?

The only advice I have for authors who are curious about self-publishing is DO IT. For a long time, I think the world felt about self-publishing the same way they felt about internet dating – curious, but wary. Now, the situation is different. A solid chunk of my nearest and dearest found their better halves online, and self-publishing has become just as mainstream. If you have a solid critique group, a good editor, and some graphics skills (or a few pennies to throw at an artist with Photoshop), there’s no reason you can’t put out a quality product in a fraction of the time. Why wait two years to see your book in print if you don’t have to? Don’t get me wrong, those big publishing houses are there for a reason, but self-publishing is a great way for new writers to get their feet wet, build up an audience, and see if this whole crazy business is actually for them.

Tell us about your current series.

My current series – BRIGHT’S FERRY – is about a fictional New England seaside town where everybody knows everybody. I wanted to create a place where people have known each other for decades, but really have no idea what kind of strange and twisted things lie under the surface. The series is planned for three books, but may go further – a blend of hot erotic romance and romantic suspense.

Tell us a little about yourself and your latest book.

SAFE FROM THE DARK is the first in the BRIGHT’S FERRY series – Evie Asher, a disgraced New York cop, heads back to town in search of a new start, and finds that and a whole lot more. From the start, she’s drawn to Colin Daniels, the popular mayor, who is exactly the kind of guy she should avoid – controlling, powerful, and dangerously
attractive. Unfortunately, she’s not the only one who thinks so, and Evie and Colin are thrown together to catch a killer. Colin finds Evie stubborn, pushy, and impossible to resist, so of course the sparks are going to fly as they try to protect each other from a dangerous predator.

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

I like contemporary romance and romantic suspense, but I’ve got some fun paranormal and fantasy titles planned for 2013! The process of building new worlds and filling them with great characters is completely addictive. And writing romance lets me really push
characters to their emotional limits, which is half the fun!

What is your least favorite part of writing?

Continuity. Sigh. Any time you change something on p.173, you have go back and make sure that it tracks on p.8, p.42, and p. 96. It’s the bane of my existence, because whenever I think I’m done, there’s ONE MORE MISTAKE! Argh.

What is your typical day like?

Snooze button. Hungry cats. Hungry dogs. Half an hour checking email and wasting time. I try to get all my promo stuff done in the morning, and then write for a couple of hours. Sadly, I’m not writing full time quite yet, so the afternoon is usually spent doing “paycheck” work, and then more writing. If I’m lucky, I’ll knock off
around seven.

What do you have planned for the future? How far do you plan ahead?

I usually have a concrete plan for about two months ahead, and a loose idea beyond that. I’ve learned that flexibility is key – in self-publishing, your deadlines are your own, so while it’s great to stick to a schedule, over-planning takes all the fun out of it.

Do you have any words of inspiration for aspiring authors?

Don’t stop. If you get a bad review, don’t stop. If the book is just a total mess, don’t stop. If nothing is selling, don’t stop. Natural talent is all well and good, but how do we get to Carnegie Hall? Practice, practice. My first attempts at writing were horrific, but I’m a better writer than I was five years ago, and I’ll be a better
writer five years from now. Do it because you love it and don’t listen to anyone who tells you to quit.

SAFE FROM THE DARK

By Lily Rede

EXCERPT

SHIVERING AND COMPLETELY DRENCHED, Evie dropped her backpack on the Daniels’ porch. It was a beautiful hundred-year-old farmhouse that was obviously in the process of being restored – scaffolding protected a new wing off the side of the two-story structure. Evie spared only a quick glance around – her teeth were starting to chatter.
Fingers tight with cold, Evie raised a hand to knock.
Nothing.
Come on, come on.
Someone had to be home, judging from the sporty little SUV in the driveway sitting behind a more utilitarian truck. The lights within blazed with beckoning warmth and the smoky scent of a fireplace teased Evie with promises of heat and comfort.
She knocked harder, kicking the door for good measure, stumbling back as it jerked open.
“What the hell, Tom? Can’t a guy take one Sunday afternoon – ”
He broke off abruptly, hazel eyes widening.
Evie tried to form words, but her brain inconveniently chose that moment to shut down, obviously overloaded by impending hypothermia and the sight of six plus feet of bare, tanned muscle standing in the doorway, clutching a blanket around his waist with lean, elegant hands. His skin had a light sheen of sweat and his dark hair was ruffled over those bright hazel eyes.
Hot.
Even the inner cop whimpered and she gave it a mental shove.
Pull it together, Asher.
“I’m so sorry to bother you, but I was looking for Mr. or Mrs. Daniels – ”
His brows snapped together with a frown.
“They’re dead. Over a year now. Car accident.”
“I’m sorry, I didn’t know. I was headed to the old Asher cabin down the road and my car got stuck.”
“You were trying to get out there in this?”
Incredulous, he gestured and the blanket slipped just a bit, exposing another inch of taut waist and a narrow pelt of dark hair under his navel that arrowed downward in a most interesting manner.
Evie swallowed and kept her eyes on his.
“I just need a phone to call the garage, if that’s okay.”
“Colin?” The breathy voice drifting down the stairs had Evie’s face heating in a blush, despite her shivers, as her brain stuttered back into working order.
Two cars in the driveway, panting sex god in the doorway. Way to go, Asher. You just cock-blocked your new neighbor.

Amazon Buy Link – http://amzn.com/B00A1SR2NY

SAFE FROM THE DARK – BLURB:
Nursing a broken heart and a couple of bullet wounds, no-nonsense Evie-Asher leaves her career with the NYPD to move into her grandmother’s old house in a small New England town in the middle of nowhere. She wants nothing more than a new start and a chance to
forget the mistakes of the past and get her life back on track, minus the shootouts. Her plans are shattered when her new neighbor, the town’s hunky young mayor, starts receiving death threats from a dangerous stalker. Evie is unwillingly drawn back into a world of peril, and while her bruised heart tries to resist the out-of-control sparks that zing between them, she is forced to stay close to keep him safe as the stalking quickly turns to murder…

Colin Daniels has his hands full running Bright’s Ferry as their popular and busy young mayor. He doesn’t have time for stalkers or threats, much less a lovely gray-eyed cop with control issues who insists that the stalker is a member of the community, someone he knows and loves. When the situation takes a deadly turn, Colin finds that he has no choice but to give up some control himself and rely on Evie to protect him until they can unmask the killer. Passion sizzles between two stubborn hearts as they clash over the best way to handle a dangerous situation, but can they keep each other safe as the dark closes in?

Amazon Buy Link – http://amzn.com/B00A1SR2NY

BIO:
Lily has been writing since she was ten. She lives steps from the beach with a bunch of semi-feral cats and two goofy dogs who are forever tracking sand into the house, but she loves them anyway. She has lived all over the world and jumped into writing full time when her cubicle city became too confining. Lily writes hot contemporary
romance, paranormal, and works of ludicrous fantasy, depending on her mood. Titles include: BUILD ME UP, POUR ON THE HEAT, HOT FOR JOE, PASSION & PUMPKINS, MY FAIR HEX, and HOT & SWEET – BEGINNINGS.

Twitter: @RedeLily

Blythe Gifford introduces The Brunson Clan in RETURN OF THE BORDER WARRIOR

Please help me welcome Blythe Gifford to my blog today. Blythe is giving away a copy of her book to one lucky commentor so be sure and leave a comment for her.

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

I started writing seriously after a corporate layoff. Ten years later and one layoff later, I was an “overnight success” when Harlequin Historicals bought my Romance Writers of America Golden Heart finalist manuscript.

Did you have several manuscripts finished before you sold? If so, did you send them out yourself?

I did not get an agent until I had two books sold and a contract in hand for two more. I sold my second completed manuscript. But by the time frame, you can see I made one of the number one rookie mistakes. I spent too long on my first manuscript! Six years writing, rewriting, submitting, reworking…! I did finally sell it, but I should have moved on much earlier.

Do you have any other words of inspiration for aspiring authors?

Obviously, based on the above, I’m a big believer in perseverance. But my advice sounds like just the opposite: If you can quit, do. What I mean by that is, if writing is something you are doing on a lark or for fame or because that lady who wrote 50 Shades of Gray made a mint, that won’t be enough to get you through all the difficulties of this profession. Make it easy on yourself. Quit now, while you’re ahead! Each writer has to find that inner reason that drives the work.

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

I write historical romance. When I first started writing seriously, that was my favorite genre to read.


Has your muse always known what genre you would write and be published in?

Well, I started writing (and illustrating) my first historical novel at age ten. In pencil. Thankfully for the world, I gave up illustration. But yes, I am firmly rooted in history. I just don’t get any contemporary ideas! But when I read history, which I do, even for fun, I start wondering what that event would have meant to a real person.

Do you prefer to read in the same genres you write in or do you avoid reading that genre? Why?

It’s so hard to keep up with my genre these days. (True confession: I have NOT read 50 Shades!) And, sadly, it’s harder for me to be swept away by a romance now because I read as a writer, analyzing how the author put the story together. To escape, I’ll read non-fiction (history) or a thriller.

Tell us about your current series.

RETURN OF THE BORDER WARRIOR is the first of three about the Brunson Clan, a family of Reivers on the Scottish Borders during the early Tudor era. It is the story of John, the youngest son, who returns home after years of serving as a “big brother” to the young Scottish king. John is a man with something to prove, both to himself and to his family. As the only blue-eyed Brunson, he’s always felt as if he didn’t belong. Now, he no longer wants to. As soon as he enforces the king’s command for peace, he plans to return to his life at court and leave the valley of his birth for the last time.

But first, he must persuade Cate Gilnock to release his family from their promise to avenge her father’s death. Cate is a woman fierce as a warrior, but behind her eyes John senses vulnerability and secrets she refuses to share. Bit by bit, he falls in love with her, and with each step, he is drawn back into the life he thought he had left behind forever. Because of Cate, he discovers he is more like the rest of his family than he thought until, finally, he must decide: Is he truly a Brunson? Or is he the King’s man after all?

CAPTIVE OF THE BORDER LORD, January 2013, will tell the story of John’s sister, Bessie Brunson and finally, Black Rob Brunson, oldest son and leader of the family, meets his match in TAKEN BY THE BORDER REBEL, March 2013.

What inspired your latest book?

The trilogy was inspired by a real historical event, the execution of a famous Border Reiver. The story is told, or sung, more accurately, in “The Ballad of Johnnie Armstrong.” Johnnie was one of the most notorious reivers on the Borders. According to the balladeer, Johnnie was not lawfully tried and convicted, but basely murdered when he was lured to a meeting with the king by a “loving letter” that insisted he come unarmed.

I thought Johnnie deserved a happy ending, so I set out to write one.

Having achieved your goal to be a published author, what is the most rewarding thing?

Oh, hearing from readers, absolutely. Even seeing a review that someone liked my book makes my day.

One lucky reader who comments on today’s blog will be randomly selected to win a signed copy of RETURN OF THE BORDER WARRIOR.

In this excerpt from Chapter One of RETURN OF THE BORDER WARRIOR, John has come across Cate, practicing her sword fighting against her own shadow. He thinks to play with her, easily besting her sword with his dagger, but the woman proves more capable than he imagined…

He jumped just in time to escape a touch. Now was not the time for distractions. He had expected a playful joust. Instead, he faced a warrior.

He swung high, but she held up her sword, turned sideways, to block his stroke. A clever move, but lifting the two-handed sword had strained her strength and when she lowered it, her arms shook.

Seizing on her weakness, he attacked and they crossed blades again. Prepared now, he leveraged his strength against her sword. Though she kept her grip, he pushed the blade away, coming close enough to feel her chest rise and fall, nearly touching his.

Close enough that his mind wandered, careless of the blades, thinking that under her tunic and vest, she had breasts. Now he could see her face, the angles of it, sharp and cleanly sculpted as her sword. Yet thick lashes edged her brown eyes, disguising some of the hatred there.

“Surrender now?”

Panting, she shook her head. Yet her lips parted, tempting him to take them. She was, after all, a woman. A kiss would be mightier than a sword.

He pushed her sword arm down, pulled her to him, and took her lips.

She yielded for a breath, no more.

But it was long enough for him to lose his thoughts, to forget she held a sword and remember only that she was a woman, breasts soft against his chest, smelling of heather…

In a flash, she turned stiff as a sword and leaned away, though her lips did not leave his, so he thought she only teased.

When he felt the point of a dirk at his throat, he knew she did not.

“Let me go,” she said, her lips still close that they moved over his. “Or you’ll be bleeding and I’ll leave you to it, I swear.”

He eased his arms from her back and she pushed him away, wiped her mouth, and spat into the dirt.

He touched the scratch she’d left on his neck, grateful she had not drawn blood.
Her eyes, which he had thought to turn soft with pleasure, narrowed, hard with fury.
“It’s a Brunson you’re facing,” he said, trying a smile. “Not a Storwick.”

She raised both sword and dirk, the larger wobbling in her grip. “It’s a man I’m facing who thinks what I want is of no consequence if it interferes with his privileges and pleasures.”

Had he imagined the echo of the bedchamber in her voice? No more.

He raised his eyebrows, opened his arms and made a slight bow. “A thousand pardons.” Words as insincere as the feelings behind them.

She frowned. “You are a stranger here, so you know no better. And because you are a Brunson, I’ll let you keep your head, but I’ll warn you just once. You will not do that again. Ever.”

She lowered her sword, slowly.

You are a stranger. She was the Brunson, besting him with a sword, displacing him at the family table. His temper rose. “And what if I do?”

The blade rose, this time, not pointed at his throat, but between his legs. “If you do, you won’t have to worry about bedding a woman ever again.”

He swallowed, gingerly, his body on fire. Only because she had challenged him. Nothing more. No man could desire such a woman.

“Then have no worries on that score, Catie Gilnock,” he said, flush with anger. “When next I bed a woman, it most certainly will not be you.”

BIO

Blythe Gifford has been known for medieval romances featuring characters born on the wrong side of the royal blanket. Now, she’s launching a trilogy set on the turbulent Scottish Borders of the early Tudor era, starting with RETURN OF THE BORDER WARRIOR, November 2012, Harlequin Historical. CAPTIVE OF THE BORDER LORD will follow in January 2013, and TAKEN BY THE BORDER REBEL in March 2013. The Chicago Tribune has called her work “the perfect balance between history and romance.” Visit her at www.blythegifford.com, www.facebook.com/BlytheGifford, or on Twitter @BlytheGifford.

Excerpt © 2012 Photo credits. Cover used with permission. Author photo by Jennifer Girard.

Character Interview with the Hero and Heroine from A Hunter’s Blade

Please welcome Cera duBois to my blog today. Cera is having a giveaway. One Lucky poster will be picked to receive a custom designed bead set (necklace and earrings). So make sure you LEAVE YOUR EMAIL ADDRESS in your post!

Thank you, Cynthia, for allowing me to take over your blog today. I hope you don’t mind I brought along two special friends of mine—Austin Calhoun and Brigit Wolfe from my recent release A Hunter’s Blade—and they agreed to let me interview them for your readers.

Cera: So, let’s begin with you each telling me about yourselves. Brigit, would you please go first?

Brigit: Oh my, where do I start? I’m a Lykan werewolf, which means I’m a direct descended from the demon hellhound Lykos and his human lover Meci. I was born in the Carpathian Mountains of Transylvania in 1635. Due to our darker complexions and tight family bonds, my pack pretended to be Gypsies. After my pack was killed, I roamed most of Romania and Eastern Europe as a fortuneteller until hundred years ago, when I moved to the US and settled in Silver Creek, Colorado. *smiles at Austin* Your turn.

Austin: *rubs the back of his neck* Man, I hate talking about myself.

Cera: You were in A Hunter’s Angel as Ian McHenry’s human FBI partner and best friend, Brad Morris. Why did you change your name?

Austin: *shrugs* I had to get out of the country right after Ian’s and Grace’s story ended. The authorities believed I died in the fire that destroyed the slaughterhouse. Besides, the FBI had a warrant out for my arrest. It seemed a no-brainer. Take an alias and get out. But once I made it to Ireland, I liked the alias and it seemed to fit me more than my human name, so I kept it. When I became a vampire, Brad Morris died. I didn’t feel like that man anymore. *Brigit leans in and kisses his cheek. He wraps his arm around her shoulders*

Cera: You were an FBI agent. Can you share why they’d have a warrant for your arrest?

Austin: Sure. My sire made me a monster. I killed my former lover, and my sire made sure there was no question that I’d been the one who did the deed. After the fire, I joined Master Pomeroy and now live by his code.

Cera: How did you meet your mate?

Brigit: *she smirks at Austin* He ambled into my bar like some bad-ass cowboy. I knew instantly he was a bloodsucker, but my instincts to rip him to shreds didn’t overpower my desire to get him naked and have him every way possible. Which totally disgusted me…at first.

Austin: *snickers* I was meeting a fellow vampire at the Silver Nugget to get intel on the werewolf killing humans in the area. Master Pomeroy sent me here as a hunter to destroy the killer. I about choked on my wine when I saw her. She was the hottest thing I’ve ever seen in high heels.

Cera: Okay, all this talk of sex makes me wonder what is the sexiest thing has your mate done?

Austin: I’m not answering that.

Brigit: Oh, that’s an easy one. He cooks for me. He’s actually a good cook.

Cera: I think this needs explained. *Looks at Austin* A vampire cook?

Austin: I might not need to eat, but she does. Simple as that.

Cera: What is the most embarrassing thing I’ve done to you in your story?

Austin: I still don’t know what you were thinking when you wrote me taking Brigit with me when I went hunting. I can only imagine how repulsive it was for her to watch me feed.

Brigit: *squeezes his hand* Actually, that’s one of my favorite scenes. *he narrows his eyes at her* Don’t you glare at me. I mean it. By watching your struggle, it showed me the real you.

Cera: If you were stranded on an island with me, what would we talk about?

*they both raise their eyebrows at me*

Austin: Would you really want to be stranded on an island with a werewolf and a vampire?

Cera: Okay, maybe not. Last question: What advice would you give to the people reading your story?

Brigit: *laughs* Enjoy it. I hope you laugh and you cry and you fall in love with Austin as deeply as I did.

~*~*~*~*~
A Hunter’s Blade, Book 2 of The Hunter’s Dagger Series

Blurb:

Brigit Wolfe, a born werewolf, hasn’t killed a human in over a hundred years, although now, she wonders if the animal attacking people in Silver Creek, Colorado, isn’t her. But she might have bigger problems when her cowboy neighbor, Austin Calhoun, ambles into her bar. Austin hasn’t been a vampire for long, but he is determined to prove to himself that he’s worthy of his hunter’s dagger. Brigit’s rare beauty and blade-sharp tongue enchants him. She ignites a passion he thought was dead, but is she the killer his master sent him to destroy? During Austin’s investigation regarding Brigit’s involvement in the deaths, an old crime surfaces connected to her human best friend. These two immortal enemies have to join forces to solve the mystery before someone else dies. But can they survive the heat of their own desire?

Excerpt:

When preternatural power touched her nape, Brigit assumed Bo Reynard was back, which was unusual. He never came in on Wednesdays, the slowest night of the week. Brigit set a margarita before a woman flirting with one of the other regulars at the end of the bar and took the man’s money for the woman’s drink.

After closing the cash drawer, she turned and sucked in a breath. The most beautiful pair of hazel eyes she had ever seen stared back at her from the other end of the bar.

The cowboy vamp removed his hat and set it on the empty stool beside him. Grinning at her, he ran his fingers through his disheveled hair. “Hello, there. I’ll have a glass of red wine,” he said in a voice as smooth as Kentucky bourbon.

She swallowed hard, took a deep breath and earthy spiciness tickled her senses. How did he smell that damned good? He’s supposed to smell like a rotting corpse. “Uh…which one?”

He shrugged with wry amusement playing on his lips. “What was my friend drinking the other night?”

“Syrah…the most expensive red wine I have.”

He pulled his wallet from his back pocket and flipped it open to take out a bill. “I’ll have a glass of that.”

A moment later, she set the glass before him and told him the price.

He handed her a bill and smiled. “Keep the change.” Before she could turn away, he said, “So, how long have you lived here? I’m new in town.”

She narrowed her eyes and crossed her arms. “Yes, I know. You bought the Wagner ranch. Just moved in. Your name is Austin Calhoun.”

He raised an eyebrow and picked up the glass. “Checking up on me?”

“I like to know who all my neighbors are.” She bent closer and hissed, “So when they start dropping dead I know who the prime suspects are.”

He leaned over the edge of the bar, peered deeply into her eyes. The image of him closing the distance and covering her mouth in a kiss zapped through her. His low-pitched voice did nothing to ease the erotic vision.

“Interestingly, I like to know my neighbors for the same reason, Brigit Wolfe, werewolf.” She narrowed her eyes and fisted her hands. His voice dropped even lower as he said, “You didn’t answer my question. How long have you lived in Silver Creek?”

She wanted to turn away, but something in those amazing eyes made her stay, and even more alarming, answer his nosy question. “Almost a year—this time. Why are you here? I know it wasn’t for the wine.”

Straightening his spine, he sipped from the glass and shrugged. “I thought I’d drop in to see you.”

“You’ve seen me, now leave.” She turned away.

Austin snorted. “Not so fast, puppy.”

She faced him with her hands fisted at her sides. “Oh, that’s mature. You think because you’re one of Lucas Pomeroy’s pet bats you’re so much better than the rest of us.”

He smirked and set his glass on the bar. “You do know I can’t turn into a bat, don’t you?”

She rolled her eyes, and he chuckled, infuriating her further.

“I follow a different code of ethics, you could say, than most of the damned and undead.” He looked around.

With only an hour before closing, there were only a handful of people in the place. When he locked those shifting golden-gray-green eyes on hers, she shivered.

“I think we should have a private chat after you close.” The serrated edge of his voice sawed through her. “I have some questions and want to get all the facts straight before I become judge, jury, and executioner.”

A cold lump fell into her stomach, but she fought the urge to run and leaned closer. Her mouth so dry she had to lick her lips to speak. “I’m not the one doing the killing, bloodsucker.”

“Then you shouldn’t mind helping me find out who is.”

Brigit spun away to take an order for a drink. How could she help him find the killer when she wasn’t a hundred percent sure she hadn’t attacked those humans?

Available now at Amazon and everywhere January 2, 2013.

~*~*~*~*~

A Hunter’s Angel, Book 1 of The Hunter’s Dagger Series

Blurb:

The serial killer stalking Clayton, Pennsylvania, isn’t all that has Chief of Police Grace Wallace worried. For a year, she’s tried to forget Special Agent Ian McHenry and now he’s the expert the FBI sent to catch the killer. She can’t stay away from him, but something primal is telling her to run to save much more than just her heart. Despite the strict code of ethics Ian vowed to follow as a vampire hunter, he craves Grace’s blood above all others. If he chooses to stay, Ian risks losing his chance at divine forgiveness. But if he leaves Grace unprotected from the evil he’s hunted for over a century, he loses more than just his soul…

Excerpt:

Part of Grace desperately wanted to look up, and a bigger part of her dreaded this moment. She couldn’t hide for long. After all, she was in charge of this shindig.

Standing, Grace sucked in a fortifying breath and rubbed her sweaty palms together. Everyone stood respectfully when she moved from around the table to the front of the room. “Please. Be seated.”

Determined not to look at the woman and three men standing off to the left, she stared straight ahead. Her heart raced, and her scalp itched where perspiration gathered. “In order to better protect the citizens of our communities, I called this meeting to ensure we’re all on the same page regarding the investigation of the murders. Although I’ve been in contact with all of you since the first murder, four weeks ago, and have led the investigation, the FBI has sent a crack team of experts to assist us in hunting down the murderer.” Her voice betrayed nothing, but her mouth was dryer than the dog days of a Pennsylvania August. “Special Agent in Charge Ian McHenry?”

She looked at Ian and her heart stuttered over a beat. How could he be so calm and act as if nothing had happened between them?

How could he lead her on? Hadn’t the chemistry between them been instant and intense enough for them to throw caution and office taboos out the proverbial window?

Did he forget all those times they’d gone out for drinks and dancing? They’d spent weekends antiquing the countryside of Chester County. He’d taken her horseback riding at his magnificent country estate he’d inherited from his uncle. What about the beautiful necklace he’d given to her for Christmas, had it meant nothing?

He’d always been such an old-fashioned gentleman and seemed interested in her as a person and not just for sex. She fell so deeply in love with him it hurt. Had it all been a ploy to get her into bed for a one-night stand?

Why did you leave me?

****

The muscles in Ian’s back tensed as Grace’s silent question ricocheted around his head as if she’d screamed it at him. He forced a smile and looked around the room. “Thank you, Chief Wallace. I’d like to thank all of you for coming today to meet with us. Now to introduce my colleagues.”

With a gesture of his hand, Ian indicated an attractive, thirty-something, dark-haired woman and the dark-skinned, younger man. “This is Dr. Beth Otto and her assistant, Mark Hazelton. They will be working closely with Coroner Swartz. They both specialize in forensic pathology.” He then pointed toward a tall man dressed as Ian in dark pants, shirt and blazer. “And this is Special Agent Brad Morris. He and I will be working closely with the rest of you.”

Ian let Beth take the first round of discussion. An excellent medical examiner, she had worked with him and Brad for the past four years. Now was one of those times, he wished she wasn’t part of his team. She was extremely hard to fool. She’d never discovered anything that pointed to a vampire, and even if she had, her scientific mind would discredit it. But Ian always had a harder time coming up with reasons for the inconsistencies when things didn’t add up.

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Bio:

Cera duBois has a strong belief in never giving up on your dreams…

Although Cera was unable to read due to dyslexia and a learning disability until she was in the fourth grade, she always had a story to tell. She wrote her first novel in eleventh grade when she had to keep a journal for her academic English class. Since her life was far from exciting growing up as a farm girl in West Central Pennsylvania, she decided to rely on her imagination to give her something to write about. Over the course of the school year, she wrote a tangled romance set in the Deep South during the Civil War. Becoming an author was her ultimate dream. Despite holding a BS in secondary social studies education from Penn State University, she currently works full-time as a medical secretary. A mother of a teenage son and pre-teen daughter, she lives near Harrisburg, Pennsylvania, with her husband of nearly 20 years. If she isn’t sitting in a quiet corner with her laptop, warm days will find her in the English garden surrounding her house. Cera loves to read and is interested in history, romance, science fiction and the paranormal. She also writes contemporary Westerns under her real name of Sara Walter Ellwood.

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Are You Ready for the Hobgoblins? By Terry Spear

Please help me welcome Terry Spear to my blog today. Remember to leave a comment and answer Terry’s question for an entry into the prize drawing.

Are You Ready for the Hobgoblins? By Terry Spear

What if your best friend says she wants you to come over and have fun at her special Halloween party, costumes not necessary? But she’s always been a stickler for them. “If you’re going to party, do it right!” So it’s got you thinking, what’s she up to this time?
You’re ultra-curious and you’ve been asking her all month long—what’s so special about this party? Who’s going to be there? You’re thinking old boyfriends, and she’s got some idea she wants you to get back together with one of them. You really haven’t a clue. You don’t want to go unprepared.
Ever have a fear of the unknown? Sure, fear of the known can be pretty hard to overcome, too. But let your imagination run wild when you haven’t any idea what’s going to happen, and it can be seriously unfun.

Of course you could chicken out. But you never chicken out and you’re not about to start now.

So feeling a little strange not to be wearing a costume, you arrive in jeans and a T-shirt featuring an old-time looking jack-o-lantern. You had to wear something! And you feel you’ve entered the Twilight Zone as soon as you walk in the door.

Everyone turns to look at you, men and women dressed in jeans and cotton shirts, no sign of anything Halloween like, but it’s a veritable jungle in here. Jungle drums and the sounds of the rainforest are playing overhead.

The heater is on full blast. Humidifiers are pouring out wet air. Real plants fill the whole place, every table space, every wall drips with vines, a soft mist is sprayed through the air, making your hair drip and your mouth gape.

“Can she climb a tree?” a man asked, clutching a drink in his hand.

“Does she like to swim?” Another raked her with his golden gaze.

“Does she purr?” a woman asked, purring the words.

“Does she like to bite?” The first man set his empty glass down among a hodgepodge of greenery and took a step toward her.

Vampires, you’re thinking. Although you can’t imagine how your friend got mixed up with those.

Then a sleek golden cat wearing black ringed rosettes moves into view, a jaguar with green eyes studying you, her mouth opening to show a lot of very sharp wicked teeth. It can’t be her. Your best friend.

You have to get out of here, now! Why didn’t she tell you?

Why didn’t you tell her?

Before anyone moves any closer, you lift your chin and howl.

Hisses fill the air as if the room is full of vampires or riled up snakes or…jaguar shifters.

You back up toward the door and escape. You hear the howls in the distance, but you don’t want your new wolf pack mates to fight these cats.
You give one last longing look at your friend standing in the doorway of her house, looking confused. And you wished you’d turned her first.

Then you’re off, racing toward your pack.

Maybe, next year you’ll play it safe and just wear a costume.

What do you think? Ready to play with the big boys with teeth?

Thanks so much, Cynthia, for having me here today, and one lucky person that answers my question will have a chance to win a copy of SAVAGE HUNGER.US/Canada Addresses Only.

About the Author
USA Today bestselling and an award-winning author of urban fantasy and medieval romantic suspense, Terry Spear also writes true stories for adult and young adult audiences. She’s a retired lieutenant colonel in the U.S. Army Reserves and has an MBA from Monmouth University. She also creates award-winning teddy bears, Wilde & Woolly Bears, that are personalized that have found homes all over the world. When she’s not writing or making bears, she’s teaching online writing courses or gardening. Her family has roots in the Highlands of Scotland where her love of all things Scottish came into being. Originally from California, she’s lived in eight states and now resides in the heart of Texas. She is the author of the Heart of the Wolf series and the Heart of the Jaguar series, plus numerous other paranormal romance and historical romance novels. For more information, please visit www.terryspear.com, or follow her on Twitter, @TerrySpear. She is also on Facebook at http://www.facebook.com/terry.spear .
http://terry-spear.blogspot.com/ (blog)

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http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/a-savage-hunger-terry-spear/1108936806?ean=9781402266928

Excerpt from SAVAGE HUNGER by Terry Spear:

His senses on high alert, sniffing the air and listening for any movement, Connor walked with Kat onto the screened porch. He had a bad feeling about the men looking for Kat and didn’t like where this seemed to be headed.

Then to his astonishment, Maya roared. What the hell? She was supposed to be watching from the lookout post with the rifle aimed and ready.
He knew her unexpected behavior meant that the men they had heard talking in the jungle were dangerous. Maya must have overheard more of their conversation and changed tactics.

“Kat, can you shift?” he asked quietly.

She would be safer as a jaguar, he thought. She could climb high into a tree and stay hidden in the canopy while he and Maya took care of the men.
She shook her head, her expression schooled.

“Stay here then.”

“I can shoot. You know I was in the Army. I had rifle and handgun training. I even qualified as a sharpshooter. I can shoot.”

He knew she must be able to, though he had not seen her actually kill anyone.

“I don’t want them to know where you are or even be able to get close to you.” His heart was pounding furiously, and he realized he didn’t want her anywhere near the men. He could see losing her in a shower of bullets. Yes, he and his sister healed more quickly than humans and could survive injuries a human might not be able to. Although if they bled out too fast, their healing genetics wouldn’t have time to take care of the wounds. But what if that part of the genetic change hadn’t taken effect for Kat? What if she wasn’t exactly like them?

“I can’t shift,” she said, her voice urgent, hushed.

He wasn’t sure if she meant she truly couldn’t or she wouldn’t, although he suspected she didn’t have the ability to shift at will like he and his sister could. Hopefully, with time, she would.

“Come on.” He took her to a vine-covered tree trunk that looked as though it was part of the vegetation, a naturally occurring fallen trunk high up in the canopy that butted up against their primitively made lookout post.

It was a heavily concealed spot high in the trees that easily hid the viewer from sight, perfect for observing unwelcome visitors while staying camouflaged from view. He stood with her there now, not wanting to leave her but having no other choice. He didn’t want her to see what he might have to do to the men, and he had to hurry and join Maya before she got herself into a dangerous bind.

He would judge the men while listening to their conversation and learning what they had in mind. If they turned out to be a danger to Kat or his sister or himself, he would take care of them.

Maya was already stalking the men, listening and waiting for him to join her. That’s what her roaring was all about. He hoped she wouldn’t act until he was there to watch her back.

“Maya’s out there,” he warned Kat, as if getting permission from her to take his leave.

Kat looked determined to see this through and scooped up the rifle lying where Maya had left it on the wooden floor of the small lookout platform. Maya’s clothes were sitting in a pile in one corner where she had shifted.

“Go,” Kat urgently whispered. “I’ll be all right. I’ve done this before. Protect Maya.”

Her raw concern for Maya touched him. If he’d had any doubts before about Kat’s loyalty to him and Maya, he now knew Kat was truly one of them. Part of their little jaguar-shifter team.

He cupped her face quickly, kissed her, and hugged her, wanting to hold her forever and protect her from the evils of the world. Beyond a doubt, he knew she would be his. He might have a time convincing her they were meant to be together, but he would do whatever it took.

Then he released her. He was out of his clothes in no time, feeling Kat’s eyes on him the whole time, and then he shifted into his jaguar coat. After giving her one last lingering look, feeling torn by needing to keep both Maya and his sister safe and not being able to be in two places at once, he leapt onto the tree branch above Kat. She gazed up at him and gave him a slight nod, telling him she would be okay.

No matter how much he wanted to believe it would be so, he had his doubts. Anything could go wrong in the rain forest. All he had to do was think back to that day a year ago when Kat had nearly died.

He leapt to another branch and then another, the adrenaline speeding through his blood, propelling him to seek out Maya and the men, and determine what they intended to do next.

He didn’t want to kill them if he didn’t have to. But if he needed to kill to save Maya or Kat’s life, or even his own, he would have no qualms about doing it.