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Monday, December 31, 2012

Blast: Michael Dadich, cool fantasy, and an awesome cover

About Michael:

I’ve been writing since first setting pencil to steno pad at age 8. A year later, I began developing the world of my current series-in-progress, and even created its title, The Silver Sphere. Now, with the support of years of experience, those early maps and back stories have progressed into what I hope is a fresh and entertaining take on the classic young adult fantasy adventure.

Despite my frequent escapes into parallel worlds, I root myself firmly in my very real family and community. When not pacing the yard maniacally after every few pages of writing, I spend as much time as possible hanging out with my studly 9-year-old son, and my inspirational wife Jenna. I also coach several local youth sports teams in Beverly Hills, and alternate between yelling at my two crazy Corgis and hiking with my trained German Shepherd.

For more, join me in my favorite fantasy worlds, from Lord of the Rings to the creations of C.S. Lewis, Anne McCaffrey and Terry Brooks. Even more importantly, stop by and say hello on my Facebook page at AuthorMichaelDadich, tweet me at @MichaelDadich, and stalk my website at http://www.thesilversphere.org.org.

As a small aside, Corgis!! I adore my corgi, she's so darn cute, even when she's laying in wait behind me in the kitchen just hoping I drop something. Or maybe it's to trip me so I will drop something!
Blurb:

Shelby Pardow never imagined she could kill someone. All she wants to do is hide from her troubled father… when she is teleported to awaiting soldiers on the planet Azimuth. Here she is not a child, but Kin to one of the six Aulic Assembly members whom Malefic Cacoethes has drugged and imprisoned. He seeks to become dictator of this world (and then Earth by proxy).

His father, Biskara, is an evil celestial entity, tracked by the Assembly with an armillary device, The Silver Sphere. With the Assembly now deposed, Biskara directs Malefic and the Nightlanders to their strategic targets. Unless….

Can Shelby find the other Kin, and develop courage and combat skills? Can the Kin reassemble in time to release or replace the Assembly, overthrowing Malefic and restraining Biskara?
Michael will be awarding a $75 Amazon or BN.com gift card to a randomly drawn commenter during both tours.
Where to buy:
Amazon
Barnes and Noble

Friday, December 28, 2012

Friday Guest: Susan Macatee, Time Travel, and a spicy new release!


Today I'd like to welcome Susan Macatee, a wonderful author with a penchant for Civil War romances and an eye for detail. Her newest release is Thoroughly Modern Amanda, a time travel romance that sounds like a lot of fun. I'll definitely be picking this one up!

1. At any given time do you work on only one story at a time and maybe plot out the next one or are there many ideas racing around your head?
I'm always thinking ahead to future stories, but I try to concentrate on my WIP and maybe make notes for the next one. Right now, I'm tied up with promotion for two new releases, but I did write the first draft to a new historical romance over the summer that I plan to start revising after the holidays. Once that's finished and submitted, I'll start plotting out the next story. But I also write short stories for magazines and try to squeeze in a couple while a novel or novella is cooling off, or while I’m in between those longer stories.

2. Is there a genre you haven't written in but would like to? Or wish you could write in?
I'm thinking about trying a contemporary romance for my next story. Maybe even one including a baseball player hero. Baseball is my favorite spectator sport and a lot of those players are real hunks any heroine could fall for. Another genre I’d like to try is romantic suspense, since I like to read it.

3. Do you add an element of romantic suspense in your stories? If so, how difficult is it to maintain the integrity of the mystery?
I do like to include suspense in my stories, most of which are adventure romances, set during and around the American Civil War. My latest full-length novel, Cassidy's War, was set after the war and included a lot of suspense. I think that's an ingredient that keeps readers turning the pages of any genre story. They aren’t really mysteries, though. I never tried writing a mystery, because I like to allow the story to flow, not worry about building a puzzle that has to be solved in the end.

4. Say you have unlimited funds: What kind of writing office/cottage would you create for yourself?
With limited funds, it would probably be what I have now. My desk sits in the corner of my dining room next to the window overlooking the back yard. After being a stay-at-home mom for many years, I've learned I can divide my attention and don't think I could write in a closed up room away from the action. I’d be too distracted wondering what was going on in the rest of the house. lol

5. If you could turn your novel into a TV show, which novel or series would you do?
I'd do a series of time travel stories based on Erin's Rebel and continuing through Thoroughly Modern Amanda.
Where would it be set?
They're both set in 19th century America. The first one during the Civil War, the latter, 1880. 
Network TV (ABC, NBC, CBS), Cable (AMC, BBC, Lifeitme) or Premium Cable (HBO, Showtime, Starz)? I'd say AMC because they have the series, ‘Hell On Wheels’. Mine would be a bit different because of the time travel angle, but both stories contain a lot of action and suspense.

6. Finally, tell us about your latest release!
Thoroughly Modern Amanda is based on my Civil War time travel romance, Erin's Rebel , but takes place 15 years later. Amanda Montgomery was a small child in Erin's Rebel, but is now grown up and holding down a job as a magazine reporter. She isn't the time traveler, though. Jack Lawton is a modern day construction worker who travels back in time to meet Amanda.

Here's the blurb:

Believing anything is possible, magazine reporter Amanda Montgomery dreams about being a modern woman in a nineteenth century world, much like her exceptional step-mother.  But society expects well-off young ladies to focus on finding a suitable husband and raising a family.  And then Jack appears—with no past and unconventional ideas. Does he hold the key to another century as well as her heart, or is she destined to stay in her own time?

Construction worker Jack Lawton wants to preserve an old home that's scheduled for demolition.  But when he sneaks inside for a final look, a loose beam falls on his head, and upon waking, he finds himself in the arms of a beautiful woman.  His only problem—he's no longer in the twenty-first century.  Can he find his way back home? Does he really want to?

And an excerpt:
He bit into the potato relishing the flavor. He wouldn’t mind staying in this century so much with a great cook like Mrs. O’Leary feeding him.

As he devoured the chicken and potatoes, he noticed Amanda picked at the food on her plate.

“Not hungry?” he asked.

She gazed at him, licking her lips. “It’s just…I can’t stop thinking of how you kissed me.” Her face colored and she glanced toward the pond.

“Oh.” Jack swallowed, suddenly ashamed. He was doing the exact opposite of what he’d promised Erin. “Was it good?” he asked feeling lame.

She dropped her gaze, but smiled. “Oh, yes. It was very good.” She glanced up. “The best I’ve ever felt with a man.”

“How many men…” Jack stopped himself.
She shrugged. “I haven’t been with any man, except for a quick peck on the cheek. It isn’t proper for an unmarried woman, you know.” Her gaze bore into his.

“Of course.” His face heated. “It was a stupid question. I mean…I forgot about how things are in this time period.”

She bit her lip. “So, it’s different in your time, I gather.”

Jack gulped. He really hadn’t planned to get into a discussion of future dating customs. He was sure they didn’t even call it dating here. Courting maybe?

“Amanda…” He leaned close, so close her sweet breath tickled his cheek. “I’d like to kiss you again, if it’s okay.”

She glanced around, then nodded.

He scooted closer, to enfold his arms around her back and draw her close. Leaning toward her mouth, he noted her eyes closing as her lips parted on a sigh.

He lowered his mouth and kissed her, lightly swirling the tip of his tongue into her mouth. She didn’t resist, her body pliant in his arms. She pressed herself closer as he angled her so she partially lay beneath him. He deepened the kiss causing his body to react, his erection pressing against her belly.

He longed to lie beside her, but the fact they were outside in a public location, reined him in. He released her. 

Her eyes fluttered open wide. “Oh, Jack,” she gasped. “That was so—so wonderful.”

“Glad you liked it.” Jack grinned. He glanced around. “I hope no one here took note of us.”

Amanda pursed her lips. “I can guarantee we’ll be the talk of the town come tomorrow.” She brushed out her skirt.

“You think?” Jack frowned as he pondered the implications of what he’d just done. Her father wouldn’t much like him taking liberties with his daughter. And if Erin found out, she’d be furious.

Thoroughly Modern Amanda is available at The Wild Rose Press

Leave a comment on this post for the chance to win a PDF copy of Thoroughly Modern Amanda and a $10.00 gift certificate for The Wild Rose Press. And if you’ve left a comment on of my other blog tour posts, you’ll be entered to win the grand prize, a $50.00 Amazon gift card. Winner will announced on my own blog tomorrow December 29th.

Thursday, December 27, 2012

J. Morgan, paranormal romance, and Immortally Damned



My name is J. Morgan, and I'm addicted to fiction. Whew, I feel much better getting that off my shoulders. After nearly forty years of reading, my house looks like a librarian/book hoarder has taken up residence. (Hey! I am a librarian and I rarely buy books for me…I use my public library *G*) Sad thing is it's true. I love reading. I guess it should come as no surprise that somewhere along the way, I decided to become a writer.

It didn't take long for me to figure out that writing is a lot harder than I thought it would be. My latest book more than proved the fact to me loud and clear. Immortally Damned is a five year odyssey. It began when I finished the first book in the series, Immortally Yours. You have to understand that I'm a comedian at heart. The rest of my library more than illustrates the fact. Sometimes you just want to try something new. Of course, it wasn't exactly that new. I couldn't leave the paranormal world alone. I just wanted to explore another aspect of it. A darker corner of the world than the one I had already created.

Stepping out of your comfort zone is even harder than sitting in front of a blank screen for the first time. You've found your niche. Your readers are used to the chuckles you give them. What if they don't accept this child you've slaved over, cried while creating and basically pried kicking and screaming from your brain? Let me tell you. It's enough to make you close the lid to your laptop and sit quietly in the corner for the rest of your life.

 So, why do it?

That is the difference between a writer and an author. Some people might not see the distinction, but to me, it's there. A writer writes. An author strives to be better than their last book. If you don't have that drive, you're not an author. That isn't to say a writer doesn't end up eventually becoming an author. I did, so there's hope for just about anyone.

Immortally Damned is in no way the end of my journey. It's just a stepping stone to the next new me. A lot of authors lose this drive. I've seen it. They get in that comfort zone and unintentionally stay there. I'm not saying it won't be me one day, but I hope not. That's why I jumped out of the kiddy pool to write something from the right side of my brain. It could be the left side, but the point is, I.D. isn't the normal me. It's the me I'd like to see more of, to tell you the truth. I'd never fully abandon my comedic side. There's too much room for growth even there, but just like you sometimes want to turn off Big Bang Theory to check in on Gibbs over at NCIS, you should have more one than one aspect to who you are as a discerning individual. Just so you know, I watch for Abby, Gibbs is just a plus.

If you've taken the time to read any of my books, thank you. I mean that. You're the reason, I'm writing. If the voices tell you I do it to shut them up, they're only partially right. I write to make people smile, cry or just plain go awwww. Take your pick. For the most part, I write to make people laugh. Immortally Damned is the opposite of that. It's also something scary. It will hopefully make you think and delve under the surface of who the characters are, to find out who they truly are. Unfortunately, the downside is you might get a glimpse of who I am, so don't dig too deep. My insecurities couldn't handle it.

Authors tend to reveal more of themselves in their work, than they like. It's the nature of the beast, or SpongeBob depending on your target demographic.

So, what is Immortally Damned about? I've talked an awful lot about what I'm about, so I'd better share time with the work behind this inner to outer monologue. At its core, I.D. is a story about redemption. Its main characters have fallen as low as they can go. They've given up on themselves, and see no reason why anyone else should care, when they don't. Caern, a half vampire, has spent the last hundred years trying to make up for some, let's say, pretty nasty habits. Eliza Marrone is a New Orleans police detective tracking down a serial killer stalking nuns. Chance, or perhaps fate, brings these two together and when it does, neither one of them will ever be the same.

When it comes to true love that always seems to be the way. Of course, since I'm the writer that is all my fault. Like, I take that as a bad thing. What is love without a few bumps to make things interesting? Which is the whole point. If it's as interesting for me writing it, that translates into interesting for you the reader. At least, I hope it does. I invite you to read the following excerpt to find out for yourself. Thanks for staying with me through this as I rambled, and as always, happy reading!


Amor Immorati
Book Two
Immortally Damned
By
J. Morgan
From
Deserting Breeze Publishing

Caern swore to never return to New Orleans, his death warrant making the choice easy. Well, easy until his past returns to smack him around. Now, he has to return to the one place where death isn't a possibility, it's a guarantee. And only a matter of time. Searching to find a murderer out to kill the grandchild he never thought to meet, he finds himself falling into a hell he just might not be able to crawl free of. His only hope lies in Detective Eliza Marrone. Falling for her isn't in the cards, but his heart tells him it might be the only thing he can't escape. Zombies, old lovers and psychopathic vampire clergy, yeah those are things he can deal with. True love on the other hand is the one thing he's always avoided. This time there's no way out. It might get him killed, or end up saving his wretched soul.


Excerpt
He stepped up to her and put an arm around her shoulders. "It's okay to react to this. Believe me. I've seen some crap that would make your nose hair run screaming out of your head, and it never gets easy."
As much as it comforted her to have his arms tugging her to his chest, Eliza pushed him away. "Yeah, react but drown it out before it gets in the way of doing the job."
"That's right, but sometimes you have to be human too." He gazed at the murdered nun, his eyes bearing more pain than she thought possible to see. "Being made of steel only makes you a robot. Believe me. In long run, being human is a much better option."
"Are you?" The question slipped out before she knew she had wanted to ask it.
Confusion swirling in his eyes, he looked at her. "Am I what?"
"A robot? Human?" That last word hung in the air between them.
"Mostly." He dropped his head. "That doesn't make me any less a monster."
Perhaps for the first time since this thing started she heard truth come out of his mouth. Eliza found it refreshing. Too bad the truth came with more questions than she'd ever get answers to. Pushing him for those answers now wouldn't get them for her. For now she'd bide her time, and start with the questions that had nothing to do with the ones burning a hole through her brain.
"So, what did you find?"
"This is more than a staged murder for some sick bastard's benefit. It's a ritual." He rolled his mouth into a purse. "One I've seen before. I may not be able to tell you who is doing this, but I know what is doing this."
"Isn't that the same thing?"
"You're not in that world anymore, Detective Marrone. Who? What? They are two distinct things in my, now your, world." He ran a finger over the stained altar cloth. "To educate you, I'll begin with the ritual. Blood is more than a conduit for oxygen and disease. It is truly the water of life. In its purest form, it contains everything a body knows. Memories and life itself. The ritual brings all those out in the taking." He took the platter from the altar and held it out to her. "The blood was drained into this to open a portal to this woman's memories, because she either didn't know or couldn't remember what the killer wanted to know."
"What do you mean wanted to know?" She refused to buy this line of crap.
"That is something I can't divulge. It's above your pay grade." He smirked and put the patter back on the altar where it had been.
"Okay, smartass." Eliza gritted her teeth, wanting nothing more than to slam him across the altar. "If you can't tell me who, or why, tell me what?"
Caern kneaded his jaw, but seemed hesitant to speak.
"Come on, I'm trusting you enough not to turn you in." Eliza banged her hand against his chest. "You've got to give me something. I'm not breaking three laws for my health here. If you want this to be a partnership, it starts here. You're right, I know this case inside and out. Still, I don't know shit. You do. Maybe between the both of us, we can stop this bastard before he has a chance to string up another nun."
When he finally looked at her, his face might as well have been stone. His lips barely moved, but she heard the word nonetheless. "A vampire."
Eliza didn't know what shocked her more. That he said it, or that she believed him.

Available Now
From

Where in the net is J. Morgan?



Monday, December 24, 2012

Merry Christmas

Wishing you and yours a warm, loving and happy Christmas whether you celebrate the holiday or not. It's a time for giving, remembering, and caring.

Thursday, December 20, 2012

Paisley Kirkpatrick, Scottish heroes, and sexy westerns

Who doesn't love a cowboy with their rugged appearance and easy-going charm? Add a Scottish burr and toss in a sassy heroine and you have a great basis for a western. I grew up with Matt Dillon, Roy Rogers, Gene Autry, Palladin and others who protected the west. Some cowboys like Clint Eastwoods's Rowdy Yates and even Ward Bond as the wagon master on Wagon Train gave us all a peek at what life might have been like in the days of the Wild West.

I spent hours on horseback as a teenager. My girlfriend owned two mares and we used to make up stories and carry out our imagined parts. Of course, they were her horses and she was always grabbed the good part as the bad guy. I had the job of hunting for her -- but, as a great tracker I always captured my prey. I use my colorful memories to season my westerns with a bit of genuineness.

Of course, living where all the gold rush action occurred helps my creativity burst alive. I love writing historicals because history is so colorful and unexpectedly creative. Sometimes I think true stories are more fun than fiction. Placerville, which was named Hangtown and Dry Diggins' during the 1849 gold rush, still has so many of the original buildings and so many tunnels that twist and turn under town. I have set my series in the town of Placerville. I have renamed the town Paradise Pines, which just so happens to be the name of my series. See, how well I planned that. Some times I amaze even myself.

Seriously though, I have drawn the plots for my stories from the many tales I've read about and even gleaned some facts from some the old timers who love relating stories they remember hearing from their parents. Placerville still has imaginary gun fights in town on special occasions and Doc Weiser drives a Wells Fargo stagecoach at Christmas time for the townsfolk to ride 'just like in the olden days'. He has an untrimmed tree lying across the top of the coach and waves to all the people who enjoy watching the coach drive past.

There may not be a gold rush any longer, but there are still open gold mines we can enter and see how the miners spent their lives digging for riches. My daughter and I spent a couple of hours in the Gold Bug Mine and relived what it was like to spend time underground. Luckily for us it was only for a short while. We couldn't even fathom what spending every day, all day long in the dark would have been like. The olden days definitely were not the easy days.

My first book Paradise Pines Series: Night Angel is available at:
All Romance eBooks
Amazon
Amazon UK
Amazon Canada
Barnes and Noble
Desert Breeze

Wednesday, December 19, 2012

Cynthia Gail and her new release Winter's Magic



About Cynthia:

Home is where you hang your hat. A native Missourian, my family relocated twice during my teenage years, taking me from a high school freshman class of over 1,200 students to living in a small town in Kentucky with a total population of less than 1,000.

Home is where your heart is. Despite the culture shock and challenges of those shy, teenage years, I met my true love in that tiny town and I couldn’t be more grateful for the opportunity to experience a community where everyone waves, calls you by name, and treats you like family.

My husband and I live in the suburbs of Nashville, Tennessee with our eighteen-year-old son and three dogs. When I’m not working or writing, I can be found with family and friends. I love to bake in the winter, grill in the summer, and on occasion, I sneak away from everyone and curl up with a good book.

I hope you enjoy my stories. Each one touches on modern day issues, fears, and challenges that women face every day. And each one illustrates that love is within reach if you let down those walls and allow your heart to open. Our lives and experiences are so much more meaningful when we have someone to share them with. Find out more about Cynthia Gail at her website. She's also on Twitter and Facebook.

Cynthia will be awarding three randomly drawn commenters during the tour one of three prizes: a $10 Starbucks GC, a $10 Amazon GC, and a $10 Soul Mate Publishing GC.  To see more stops on this tour check out the stops here Goddess Fish.

Winter's Magic Blurb:
 
Beth Sergeant and Nick Chester come from opposite ends of the social food chain. While he sees a rare beautiful woman without an agenda, she sees a wealthy playboy. Can he convince her to let go of her insecurities and take a chance on love, when challenges from his past force her to reveal her most guarded secret?

Owner of La Bella Vita, a five-star day spa nestled in the affluent suburbs of Nashville, Tennessee, Beth Sergeant knows her elite clientele first hand. She attended their private schools. She was even engaged, although briefly, to one of their most recognized bachelors. But she never fit in to their social-elite world.

After losing his parents to a car accident at a young age, Nick Chester was raised by his grandfather, the wealthiest man in Nashville. When he chooses to socialize, he has a never-ending list of exclusive events and beautiful women vying for his attention. Yet he never lets himself forget that everyone has an agenda.

Beth can’t resist Nick’s charm and accepts an invitation to dinner, despite her deep-seated insecurities. She proves she’s nothing like other women Nick's dated and learns to trust him in return. But just as the last of their resistance crumbles and true love is within reach, challenges from Nick's past threaten to destroy everything and force Beth to reveal her most guarded secret.

EXCERPT:

“Can I see you Wednesday night?”

“Assuming you get out in the morning?” Beth tried to feign indifference as the grin on her face reached new heights. He wanted to see her again. That fact, and being with him tonight, was nothing short of an early Christmas present. Score one for Jenny’s advice. Sometimes you do have to let down your guard and enjoy life as it comes.

“True. I’m not worried, though. Surely they’ll have this cleaned up overnight.”

“When do you get home?”

“I think I land around six.”

“Give me a call when you get in and we’ll figure out where to meet.”

Beth closed her eyes for a moment to absorb the exquisite sensation of being cocooned in his arms as he held her so gently. She could feel the power in his broad shoulders and the hardness of his chest as he drew her against him a little closer than before, bringing every nerve ending in her body to attention.

When she opened her eyes, Nick was staring at her with an intensity that caused a shudder to run through her. And as the music faded, he led her through one last turn and bent down to kiss her. Short, but heavenly sweet. Then he nodded toward the windows.

“We probably need to head home.”

“I don’t think the snow’s going to let up anytime soon.” Her voice sounding steadier than she felt.

Where to buy Winter's Magic:

Tuesday, December 18, 2012

Nicole McCaffrey, Christmas cookies, and sexy real estate moguls



Hi Isabel!  I’m taking a break from a marathon of cookie baking to sit down and chat with you today.  Before we begin, let me share the recipe I just finished, it’s one of my favorites because it’s super easy, completely versatile and most importantly, yummy!  These cookies look like you went to a lot of fuss and trouble, but they’re fast and easy.

2 Devils food cake mixes (18 ¼ oz each)
4 eggs lightly beaten
2/3 cup vegetable oil


  1. Beat cake mix, eggs and oil to form a very stiff dough.  Roll into one inch balls, flatten slightly and bake at 350 degrees for about 8-10 minutes or until a slight indentation remains when lightly touched.  Cool completely. 
  2. When the cookies are cool, spread cream cheese frosting (I cheat and buy a can from the grocery store when I’m in a hurry, but you can make your own) generously on one cookie and top with another.


What I love about this recipe is you can use any cake mix and frosting combination you want, the possibilities are endless.  I love to add peppermint flavoring to the frosting and tint it pink or green when I make the chocolate cookies.  Today I used red velvet cake mix and cream cheese frosting.  Yum!! They’re going to look so pretty on my cookie trays next week!

These sound delicious and very easy to make, thanks for sharing!

Okay, on with the interview!
       1.       At any given time do you work on only one story at a time and maybe plot out the next one or are there many ideas racing around your head?

LOL I am the living definition of the phrase “so many stories, so little time.”  Usually right around the time I hit the halfway point with a story, another idea that’s been in the back of my mind will start coming together and begging me to write it.  In the past when I’ve resisted the temptation to at least jot down a few words from story #2, I’ve regretted it because when the time finally comes that I can work on it, my fickle muse won’t come out and play anymore LOL.  I find when I allow myself to take a break from one story and start another, it helps me to work out the bugs and kinks and things that were bothering me in story #1 so that when I return to it, I’m fresher and more focused.  Sometimes the second story comes at me so strong it ends up being the one I finish first.

2. Is there a genre you haven't written in but would like to? Or wish you could write in?

Well being a paranoid person with an overactive imagination LOL, I actually get a lot of romantic suspense ideas.  But the time it would take to learn police or other law enforcement protocol and procedure — and learn how to spin a good suspense story…I don’t know where I’d find the time anytime soon—after all I’ve spent 20+ years researching American history and still don’t feel I know it as well as I’d like, LOL.  Never say never, though. 

3. Do you add an element of romantic suspense in your stories? If so, how difficult is it to maintain the integrity of the mystery?

A lot of historical romances have some element of suspense and if I’m writing a story that does, I try not to weave a web that’s too tangled.  If my readers are anything like me, they know “who done it” long before they get to the page where that information is revealed anyway.  I could never outsmart them, so I don’t try to (does that make me an underachiever? LOL).  For me the fun is taking the reader on the journey with me while the characters figure it out.

4. Say you have unlimited funds: What kind of writing office/cottage would you create for yourself?

Oh I’d love a little thatched cottage in the woods. I live near a wooded area and there’s something very soothing about being surrounded by the sounds of nature and lots of trees and greenery.  My dog and I have pretty much a daily routine of walking in the woods.  It never fails to quiet my mind—at least for a little while. If I could I’d live right smack dab in the middle of wherever it is that the deer and the antelope (and the bunnies and the chipmunks) play LOL. 

5. If you could turn your novel into a TV show, which novel or series would you do? Where would it be set? Network TV (ABC, NBC, CBS), Cable (AMC, BBC, Lifetime) or Premium Cable (HBO, Showtime, Starz)?

Oh nothing recharges my battery like sitting down to watch one of those great romantic Hallmark channel movies, especially this time of year.  Small Town Christmas practically begs to be on the Hallmark channel during the holidays LOL and I think The Model Man would be fun, too.  I’m not sure they do historical movies, though, I’ve only seen a few, but I’d be all for having Wild Texas Wind as a movie, too.

6. Finally, tell us about your latest release!

My latest release is my first venture into something a little paranormal.  It’s a time travel romance called This Moment in Time. My hero buys an abandoned old house with every intention of tearing it down—until he decides to spend a night there and runs into a beautiful woman in the upstairs bedroom.  At first he thinks she’s a ghost but he soon realizes somehow, he crosses a threshold to another time when he enters that room.  He soon learns she’s a famous spy from the Civil War era who once lived in the house… he also learns she’s about to be discovered and executed.  If he saves her will it alter history—or should he sacrifice life in his own century to be with her for what little time she has left?

Blurb:

Not even captivity can sway Southern widow Josette Beaumont from spying for the Confederacy. Under the nose of the Union army, she willingly risks her life to pass information to her sources. Until a stranger appears in her bedroom one day with a cryptic message: stop spying or you'll die. She has no reason to believe his warnings about the future, but his company is the only solace in her long days of imprisonment and his friendship quickly comes to mean so much more. If only she could make the sacrifice he asks of her... 

To hell with history, real estate mogul Jamie D'Alessandro has no intention of saving the historic mansion he's purchased, even if it is the home of a famous Confederate spy. But when he steps into an upstairs bedroom of the old house, time suddenly shifts, bringing him face to face with a very beautiful and irate Southern lady. Against his will he's drawn into her cause--to save the Confederacy. But Jamie has a cause of his own. According to his research the lady spy has only days to live. Should he change history to save the woman he loves--or sacrifice life in his own century to be with her for This Moment in Time?

Exceprt:
 
By the dim glow of propane lanterns, Jamie unrolled the sleeping bag and spread it on the floor. His flight had arrived late, and he’d gotten lost on the way to the house. It was dusk by the time he arrived. He’d have to wait until morning to fully explore Beaumont House and the grounds around it. 

He rubbed his arms against the chill of the spring night. Fortunately, he’d never minded roughing it. In fact, sitting here in this abandoned house, with only the sound of his own breathing for company, he was more content than he’d ever been in his multi-level New York penthouse. No servants tiptoeing about, no cell phone buzzing, no financial advisors dropping by for hours-long discussions.

Maybe he’d have a look around before night fully took over the house. He hadn’t actually stepped foot inside before, had merely relied on the findings of his reconstruction team. But now, flashlight in hand, the narrow beam of light lit upon yellowed paint, peeling wallpaper and architectural detail the likes of which were rarely seen these days. He stepped closer, studying the intricate molding on the fireplace and ran his fingers along the smooth, cold surface. It would need more than stripping and refinishing to restore it, but the wood felt solid beneath his fingertips. 

Stepping back, he drew the light up to reveal the crown molding along the ceiling. He’d need a ladder and full daylight to get a good look at it, but the idea of working with his hands again—getting them dirty, as Len said—filled him with an excitement that renewed his spirit in a way it hadn’t been in a long time. 

The light glinted off the top of a framed painting. He lowered the beam, illuminating the portrait. A woman with dark hair and smoldering dark eyes. A modest hint—downright puritan by today’s standards—of pale bosom peeked over the ruffled bodice of a white dress. Somehow that hint of creamy flesh seemed more forbidden—sexier — than any modern woman he’d ever seen. There was something prim and ladylike about her that made it feel wrong to stare at her like that. Was this the famous spy? Her name escaped him, but he made a mental note to learn more about her.

A loud thump from the second floor caught his attention. His heart leaped to his throat, and for a moment, he felt like a scared kid in a haunted house. He shook his head, chuckling at himself. The house had been locked up tight since the renovation team had come through to inspect it, there was no one around. Probably a rodent or critter had gotten inside. Still, he had no intention of spending the night listening to the scratching and thumping of a wild animal.

He shone the flashlight ahead of him until he found the winding, elegant staircase that led to the second floor. Common sense warned him not to trust the stairs; the old house was full of wood rot. But curiosity got the better of him and he tested the first step before putting his full weight on it, and the next, and the next. Fully expecting to go through the boards and land on his ass, he continued the same tenuous journey until he reached the second floor. 

Amazed he’d actually made it, he gave a quick glance behind him, then began to move around the second story. Shining the light upward, he saw the staircase continued to a third floor, but wasn’t about to push his luck any further. 

He paused, waiting until he heard the scratching again. With the beam of light at his feet to illuminate the floor, he took slow, cautious steps, following the sound. As he drew closer to the sound he paused, wondering if he should have brought something for protection. What if the creature was rabid? 

Stepping fully into the room where he’d heard the noises, he paused to appreciate the huge windows that overlooked the valley. They didn’t make houses like this anymore, and while he had nothing but the utmost appreciation for the trappings of modern society, he had to admit, there was something about the way they built things a couple of centuries ago. They didn’t need high tech gadgets and expensive fabrics to scream wealth and elegance. It was right here in the architecture. 

Forgetting himself for a moment, he stepped across the room. The loud groan of a floorboard caused him to freeze, wondering if the floor could support him. The banging now came from behind him. Heart suddenly pounding, he whirled. A door—to a closet, perhaps?— rattled insistently. He swallowed. He’d never believed in ghosts, had laughed off any notion that they existed. So what the hell was this? 

As he stood there, a cold draft of air swirled about his feet. Wasn’t it supposed to get really cold when a ghost appeared? No, no, he wouldn’t allow his imagination to take him there. Dammit, he was James D’Alessandro III; he’d never allowed anyone or anything to intimidate him. It would take more than an abandoned old house to spook him.

On silent feet, he crossed the room to the door, mentally counting—one, two… three. He yanked it open. His breath left him in a relieved exhale. Nothing stood behind it. The cold breeze continued, whistling through a broken window. The branch of a tree had long since grown inside and as the wind blew, it scratched against the wall. A gust must have blown the door shut; that was probably the bang he’d heard from downstairs.

He took another deep breath to help slow his heart rate. While he was out gathering tools tomorrow, he’d have to get something to put over the window. He’d never get any rest with that door thumping all night long, and the air blowing inside would only make the house colder. 

Chuckling at his own ridiculous fear, he started to turn. A voice—not the howling of the wind this time— and the sudden sensation of warmth at his back stilled him.

“Honestly, Sebastian, he can’t keep me locked up here much longer. I’ll go mad.”

A woman? She sounded calm, perhaps a little angry.

“Drat it, now I’ve lost count.” A heavy sigh followed. “The last I remember was twenty strokes, I’ll have to start over from there.”

Heart back in his throat, he turned just enough to glance over his shoulder. The first thing to greet him were the windows—the very same windows he’d admired moments ago. Only they were now adorned with white lace. To the left, a warm fire crackled in the fireplace, casting a golden glow across the gleaming hardwood floor. And directly in front of him, a dark gray cat lay sprawled across an ornate four poster bed, calmly grooming itself. It paused, tongue in mid stroke and stared up at him with curious green eyes.

“Twenty one. Twenty two. Twenty…”

Swallowing, he forced his gaze from the cat to the source of the voice. A woman sat at a vanity, tugging a brush through long, dark hair. In the mirror, he watched as her gaze moved from her reflection. To him. She let out a gasp. The brush fell from her hand. She whirled on her seat to face him.

“Wh—who are you?”

She could see him!

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