Uplifting pictures

A friend sent me this forward and I thought I'd share a couple here. I hope you enjoy them as much as I did!

Conference workshop

Now that my brain is no longer fried from the great weekend at the NJRW conference, I can honestly say that the workshops I managed to get to were worth it. I met a lot of great people and had a blast.

I also got to pitch to some wonderful editors and will be sending them my stuff ASAP. (Except that 1920s story I have to cut by 10,000 words and edit since I finished it and shoved it aside months and months ago.)

Complicated Courtship

Complicated Courtship is a short story about Kirsten, a staunch patriot during the American Revolution whose fiance has stopped paying attention to her. She fears he no longer loves her but isn't willing to let it go. Seducing him on the advice of her stepmom, Kirsten realizes it isn't that James no longer loves her, but that he's being blackmailed by a British officer.

Excerpt:

“If you’ll excuse me, I’m gong to look for James.”

She saw Margaret nod serenely from the corner of her eye, but focused her attention on the Lieutenant.

He sputtered a little. “Isn’t it proper for the two of you to meet here in the parlor?”

“Oh, it’s no bother,” Margaret said casually. Waving a dismissing hand she added, “Let the young couple have a few moments of privacy.”

Nodding to her stepmother, Kirsten quickly exited. Her footsteps echoing sharply in the hall, she wasn’t paying attention and ran straight into James’ chest.

“Oh!” she gasped, looking up at him.

His arms steadied her, and Kirsten swore she could feel his touch through her many layers of clothing. Caught in his intense blue gaze, all she could think of were the things Margaret told her. For a heartbeat, his face showed his emotions, and it was the James she remembered. But then he closed himself off, and she wondered if she’d imagined it.

Breath short, she shakily stepped backwards. His hands stayed on her waist for a moment, before he, too, moved away.

“He’s an insufferable man,” she managed. Her voice sounded breathless, and she had to clear her throat before going on. “I don’t know how you stand him in your house.”

He looked to the side, and she wondered what he thought. “He’ll be gone before long.”

Opening her mouth to say more on Leftenant Cromwell, Kirsten changed her mind and stepped closer. This was her chance. Ignoring the nerves in her stomach, she said softly, “I hope for nothing more,” she turned his face to hers, wishing she was taller, “than for your attention.”

James’ surprise gaze hurt, but she went on.

“I’ve missed you,” she whispered, threading her fingers through his queue. His unpowdered hair was soft beneath her fingertips. “I don’t see why we have to be apart until our wedding night.”

Excerpt Monday Got zombie?

Got Hungry for your Love? You should! Halloween approaches, and in the true spirit (if not tradition) of the holiday, everyone should have a zombie romance anthology. :)

Excerpt from Zombified:

Three shrunken voodoo heads, a single gold doubloon, an ancient German Luger, and one and a half wooden legs later, they gave up. The rest of the house was as dusty as the entryway, so they opened the shutters, unpacked their camping gear and set up camp before the unused fireplace.

Before Rebecca knew what was happening, Griffin’s lips were on hers and they’d made love in an abandoned mansion in the middle of Martinique. It was the most pleasurable day she could remember spending in a long while.

“No pirate treasure,” she sighed, propping her head on one hand and looking at him.

“No, but lots of dust.”

Rebecca frowned at his frown and traced the line of his jaw. “What do you expect?” she asked. “The place has been closed up for years.”

She swept her arm out to encompass the end tables, coffee table, piano, and old style chairs—some wicker, some old enough to be certifiable antiques. Not that she had any real notion of what a certifiable antique looked like.

“Dust is created by human skin,” he mumbled. Shaking his head, he grasped her hips and pulled her atop him. “Are you sure you want to stay here for the night? Or do you want to drive back?”

“Na,” she kissed his lips. “Let’s just stay here. We haven’t explored a fraction of the place. Plus,” her lips trailed along his jaw, and Rebecca wondered when she’d become so fascinated with a man’s jaw line. “Plus we’ll just have to drive back out tomorrow. What’s the point?”

“Definitely not an ordinary woman,” he said against her mouth. “Most I know would rather head back to the hotel than stay here. In the middle of nowhere.”

“Hey,” she smiled, “at least we have electricity.”

4 stars from Romantic Times
4 cups of coffee from Coffee Time
4.5 hearts from Night Owl Romance

Vampires

I thought of this short story trilogy about a month ago, but other than plan it out, think it through, and figure out where the characters are going (and who they are!) haven't done much else but write half of chapter one.

Originally, I wanted to make it a novel trilogy, but the more I thought about the story I wanted to tell, the more I realized it was best in parts. Three couples, three plot arcs, one overall plot linking it all together.

Now, in between Dark Inheritance, Egyptian, a couple short story ideas I have, I plan on squeezing this into my increasingly overcrowded writing time. *Deep breath* Okay nothing like a plan!

Course the plan should always include time-outs for rest between stories. And possibly a moratorium on new plot bunnies until the old ones are finished!

Not that much writing will get done with the conference, but there'll probably be more evil plot bunnies hopping around. *le sigh*

Workshops

Tomorrow starts the conference and while I don't really know what workshops I'm going to, (mostly because I haven't looked) I do know I'm going to the published author round table stuff. (Very coherent there, wasn't that. Yes. Yes I am a writer!)

Looking forward to hearing what other authors have to say about the state of the publishing world, and the agents and editors take on that as well. Not that it means much, there's always the break out whatever or the out of the box whoever, but it's nice to hear these things. Makes me feel as if I'm keeping up on important stuff.

Red herrings

In my latest ms, the dark regency story, tentatively titled Dark Inheritance, I use many a red herring. Okay, anyone who knows my thought process knows the more red herrings tossed in the better! But I thought today I'd talk about what the hell a red herring is.

The answer I've always known and the one supported by a History Channel program I love: Worst Jobs in History.

In the 1997 edition of Facts on File Encyclopedia of Word and Phrase Origins, Robert Hendrickson firmly asserts that “Escaping criminals in the 17th century would drag strong-smelling red herring across a trail to make pursuing blood-hounds lose the scent”. Brewer’s Dictionary of Phrase and Fable, and many dictionaries, say that red herrings were used to confuse the hounds chasing a fox.

Then, in finding a resource I could use to quote in this blog, I found this (same site):

The OED’s current entry for the figurative sense of red herring points to a reference in Nicholas Cox’s The Gentleman’s Recreation of around 1697 (Mr Ross says it was actually in a treatise by Gerland Langbaine on horsemanship that was bound into the third edition of this work without attribution) that appeared to suggest that hounds were trained to follow a scent by trailing a red herring on the ground.

This was a misunderstanding, as Langbaine included it in a section on training horses so that they became accustomed to following the hounds amid the noise and bustle of a fox hunt. He suggested a dead cat or fox should be dragged as a training-scent for the hounds, so that the horses could follow them.

If you had no acceptably ripe dead animals handy, he added, you could as a last resort use a red herring. Neither the original misunderstanding of the text or the correction suggests why red herrings might be thought of as laying a false scent to draw hounds off a trail, quite the reverse.

Eh, it all boils down to the same thing: to throw off the scent. To confuse the issue.

Conferences

The end of this week is another conference I'm going to. No speaking at workshops, but I'm looking forward to the published author events and the keynote speakers. Especially the networking, getting to know online friends, having drinks...and possibly more drinks!

I can't stress this enough: conferences, despite the cost, are worth going to. You learn about writing, marketing, meet people, and talk about books. Yours, your favorite authors, the one you just finished, everything.

What are you waiting for? Have you signed up for a writer's conference yet?

October the busiest month

I used to be certain December was, or the 6 weeks between Thanksgiving and New Years but now I'm convinced it's October. Or maybe just this one. Who knows, maybe it'll be October 1-January 1 for all I know (I sincerely hope not!)

2 conference, Disney, birthdays, holidays, AND writing? I'll never survive. Something's got to give and last night it was me.

Migraine, sinus pressure, you name it I had it. I even missed NCIS because of it all.

I'm such a big planner that I thought I had it all down. HA! Apparently I planned a little too much and I think it's catching up with me. I need to slow down, though who knows what'll give. I don't want to give up anything, but maybe I should cut back. On what, I don't know, everything seems to be a priority in my life.

My advice to you: take time for yourself, even if you're sitting on the couch dozing while watching Guys & Dolls...which I'm doing now before work.