Done. Finished. Complete. Finito.
So there!
Doing the happy dance now...
I do want to read through it once more, I'm sure there are spots that still need polishing, and I want to make sure the romance flows well from Point A thru Point D. The synopsis needs one more read through as well, and then it's off!
And only 7 weeks rather than the 6 weeks I'd estimated. Not too shabby considering I had to rework so much of it and do the beginning from scratch.
My title contest garnered a total of one person offering suggestions, so in honor of that, I've named Jared's butler Marlowe. He'll be making repeat appearances in the future three books. :) Thanks, Kit! (Kate, CMK...) No, I didn't chose one of those suggestions, but then I did offer limited information about the book and it did change from the time I posted that contest. Still, it's the effort that counts.
Showing posts with label titles. Show all posts
Showing posts with label titles. Show all posts
Thursday, January 6, 2011
Monday, December 27, 2010
Dark Desires of the Druids: Temptations and Treachery I admit, this was an additional story. I'd always wanted to tell Isadore's story, but the overall arc of my Druids was a trilogy. Then I realized just how perfect Isadore and James were together. How could I resist? Especially when prim & proper Isadore wanted more--more action, more adventure, more romance? I caved, and James Blackthorne did, too. *G*
Only available in ebook form: here and here (for only $2.49) and anywhere else you can buy ebooks.
Pppssst...have you entered my Title Contest?
Excerpt:
James hovered over Isadore’s chair, feeling protective toward her, and the need to distance Dinshaw from her. When they’d come up with this plan, he hadn’t counted on Dinshaw being taken with Isadore. Or Isadore’s reaction to him.
The council was gone, as was his carriage. Takoda lurked outside, and Irisi was back at Morgana’s house pretending they were all there.
“I think everyone believed our little scene,” Dinshaw said. He grinned at Isadore and James wanted to rip him to pieces.
“You’ve very convincing, Allen,” James said, deadpan. “I almost believed you.”
Dinshaw merely grinned and said to Isadore, “I’ll be at the North American with my business associates. Will the two of you lie in wait?”
“Maybe not lie in wait,” Isadore laughed. James saw red. “But we’ll be here should anyone try to enter your home.”
“Is there anything else we need to do?” he asked, pathetically excited over the entire endeavor.
“No.” James stated. “Wouldn’t want you to be late.”
“No, no,” Dinshaw said, standing, “of course not.” He kissed Isadore’s hand, smiled down at her. James grabbed his arm and hustled him out of the room.
“We’ll be here,” he repeated. “Make sure you protect yourself, don’t go off alone. And don’t come back too soon.”
Dinshaw nodded, gathering hat, cane, gloves. “Oh, I’ll be several hours at least.”
“Excellent.”
James hung back from the door, making sure no one saw him. The entire point of their plan was to make Dinshaw’s house the most appealing tonight.
“I’ll be back late, Alfred!” he called to his butler. James rolled his eyes. The door closed behind Dinshaw with a decisive click.
“There was no need to push him out the door,” Isadore said from beside him.
“Yes there was.”
“Oh?”
“I didn’t like the way he looked at you,” he growled, pulling her to him.
“James,” she chuckled, “he’s a consummate flirt, nothing more.”
“I don’t care,” he whispered against her mouth. “I’ve become very possessive of you.” He pulled back and looked at her. “I hope that isn’t a problem?”
He wasn’t sure he cared if it was. Isadore was his. In their short time together, he’d grown closer to her than anyone in his life. He wanted her more, he needed her more. The only thing stopping him from beating Dinshaw to a bloody pulp was the knowledge they needed him, and his house, for their plan to work.
“No,” she whispered. “But it might be when I return to England.”
“If I let you go.”
Only available in ebook form: here and here (for only $2.49) and anywhere else you can buy ebooks.
Pppssst...have you entered my Title Contest?
Excerpt:
James hovered over Isadore’s chair, feeling protective toward her, and the need to distance Dinshaw from her. When they’d come up with this plan, he hadn’t counted on Dinshaw being taken with Isadore. Or Isadore’s reaction to him.
The council was gone, as was his carriage. Takoda lurked outside, and Irisi was back at Morgana’s house pretending they were all there.
“I think everyone believed our little scene,” Dinshaw said. He grinned at Isadore and James wanted to rip him to pieces.
“You’ve very convincing, Allen,” James said, deadpan. “I almost believed you.”
Dinshaw merely grinned and said to Isadore, “I’ll be at the North American with my business associates. Will the two of you lie in wait?”
“Maybe not lie in wait,” Isadore laughed. James saw red. “But we’ll be here should anyone try to enter your home.”
“Is there anything else we need to do?” he asked, pathetically excited over the entire endeavor.
“No.” James stated. “Wouldn’t want you to be late.”
“No, no,” Dinshaw said, standing, “of course not.” He kissed Isadore’s hand, smiled down at her. James grabbed his arm and hustled him out of the room.
“We’ll be here,” he repeated. “Make sure you protect yourself, don’t go off alone. And don’t come back too soon.”
Dinshaw nodded, gathering hat, cane, gloves. “Oh, I’ll be several hours at least.”
“Excellent.”
James hung back from the door, making sure no one saw him. The entire point of their plan was to make Dinshaw’s house the most appealing tonight.
“I’ll be back late, Alfred!” he called to his butler. James rolled his eyes. The door closed behind Dinshaw with a decisive click.
“There was no need to push him out the door,” Isadore said from beside him.
“Yes there was.”
“Oh?”
“I didn’t like the way he looked at you,” he growled, pulling her to him.
“James,” she chuckled, “he’s a consummate flirt, nothing more.”
“I don’t care,” he whispered against her mouth. “I’ve become very possessive of you.” He pulled back and looked at her. “I hope that isn’t a problem?”
He wasn’t sure he cared if it was. Isadore was his. In their short time together, he’d grown closer to her than anyone in his life. He wanted her more, he needed her more. The only thing stopping him from beating Dinshaw to a bloody pulp was the knowledge they needed him, and his house, for their plan to work.
“No,” she whispered. “But it might be when I return to England.”
“If I let you go.”
Monday, December 20, 2010
Monday Exerpt: Dark Desires of the Druids: Desert and Destiny
Dark Desires of the Druids: Desert and Destiny, can you tell I love alliteration? You have no idea how hard it was to come up with these, and 
I'm rather proud of all my titles. So, Gareth. The tough alpha male who doesn't know how to show his feelings, his affection. One fiance left him, and now there's this woman in his life. Good thing Arabelle doesn't take any of his shit!
Available in bookstores here and here, and online here (for only $2.49!)and here.
Pppssst...have you entered my Title Contest?
Excerpt:
Gareth sat on his cot and listened to the evening sounds. The diggers and bearers talked in loud groups off to one side, but he didn’t interfere. Arabelle assured them they were safe enough here with the guards the diggers would set out, but that wasn’t what concerned him.
His body’s reaction to the mere thought of her was instant. He wanted her, he always did. Gareth began to believe he’d never get enough of her. It scared him, but at the same time –
“Gareth?”
Arabelle’s whispered voice cut through the night, startling him out of his thoughts of her. She poked her head into the tent, and he stood, gesturing her in. Still fully clothed in her khaki dig clothes, she stood awkwardly there, staring at him for several long moments.
“I wanted to thank you for last night,” she said. “I should have before, but I didn’t want,” she moved her hands in a helpless motion and shrugged. “I didn’t think you’d want the others to hear me.”
For the first time, Gareth had a strange notion. Did she think he was ashamed of her? Ashamed of what they did? Unreasonably angry over that thought, he shook his head. How to make her understand he wasn’t?
“We’ve all been in that position at one point or another with Corwin’s accusations.” That wasn’t what he wanted to say, it wasn’t how he wanted to explain himself.
“Yes,” she nodded, holding herself back. He could see the tension in her shoulders. “Well I just wanted to thank you.”
She started to back away, out of the tent, and he was desperate to stop her. Gareth stepped forward, closing his fingers about her arm. “You look cold,” he said stupidly, wishing for something better.
No wonder Raven left him. That thought niggled at the back of his mind, something she’d said the other day during their argument.
“Here,” he continued, offering her the cot. “I’ll start a fire.” She started to protest, but he grinned at her. “A magickal fire. It’s all the rage; I’m surprised you hadn’t heard about them.”
Arabelle laughed, and he saw her relax. Fishing for something to talk about, without making her angry, Gareth settled for what little they had in common.
“I’m sorry you had to be there,” he said. “You should’ve let me kill Corwin when I had the chance in that warehouse.” He smiled to take any sting out of his words. But she didn’t seem to take offense.
“Possibly,” she shrugged, “but he still has enough followers to make things difficult for us. Still, perhaps you’re right. Perhaps it would’ve been better to rid ourselves of him then. I’ve taken precautions,” she added, “and I understand you and Lords Preston and Granville have as well?”
“Some,” he agreed, no longer holding onto the anger he had whenever Preston’s name was mentioned. “But we have limited resources here.”
She rose and moved in a small circle around the magickal heat. Staring at the orb, she said, “I wonder what we’re going to find tomorrow. I’ve speculated on this.”
She looked up at him in concentration, excited concentration as if this were a new find. And he supposed it was, and as she was an Egyptologist, this would be exciting for her on many levels.
“I’ve wondered, so many times on what’s in the repository, what the ancients stored for us. If you knew your civilization was going to halt, to stop, to end what would you store? What would you keep for others to find?”
“I don’t know,” he shrugged. “I’m not sure I can answer that tonight. I hope,” he smiled, taking her hand and drawing her next to him again, “the ancients took more time in compiling whatever they hid.”
“I wonder. Sometimes, you don’t know – you don’t believe – that things will change.” She shook her head and he heard the frustration in her voice at not being able to express herself. But she all but bounced next to him in excitement. It was contagious.
“That you won’t wake up to a new world. Would they prepare? Did they have the time? Or was it too late?” She turned to look at him and in the dim artificial light he saw her enthusiasm. “It was such a long time ago, I wonder if we’ll ever know.”
Cupping her face, he smiled at her. “You’re so beautiful when you’re enthralled like this. When you’re passionate.”
Arabelle smiled back. Then, surprising him she leaned forward and kissed him. Her body was warm against his as she shifted, controlling the situation.
“Make love to me,” she said against his mouth.
I'm rather proud of all my titles. So, Gareth. The tough alpha male who doesn't know how to show his feelings, his affection. One fiance left him, and now there's this woman in his life. Good thing Arabelle doesn't take any of his shit!Available in bookstores here and here, and online here (for only $2.49!)and here.
Pppssst...have you entered my Title Contest?
Excerpt:
Gareth sat on his cot and listened to the evening sounds. The diggers and bearers talked in loud groups off to one side, but he didn’t interfere. Arabelle assured them they were safe enough here with the guards the diggers would set out, but that wasn’t what concerned him.
His body’s reaction to the mere thought of her was instant. He wanted her, he always did. Gareth began to believe he’d never get enough of her. It scared him, but at the same time –
“Gareth?”
Arabelle’s whispered voice cut through the night, startling him out of his thoughts of her. She poked her head into the tent, and he stood, gesturing her in. Still fully clothed in her khaki dig clothes, she stood awkwardly there, staring at him for several long moments.
“I wanted to thank you for last night,” she said. “I should have before, but I didn’t want,” she moved her hands in a helpless motion and shrugged. “I didn’t think you’d want the others to hear me.”
For the first time, Gareth had a strange notion. Did she think he was ashamed of her? Ashamed of what they did? Unreasonably angry over that thought, he shook his head. How to make her understand he wasn’t?
“We’ve all been in that position at one point or another with Corwin’s accusations.” That wasn’t what he wanted to say, it wasn’t how he wanted to explain himself.
“Yes,” she nodded, holding herself back. He could see the tension in her shoulders. “Well I just wanted to thank you.”
She started to back away, out of the tent, and he was desperate to stop her. Gareth stepped forward, closing his fingers about her arm. “You look cold,” he said stupidly, wishing for something better.
No wonder Raven left him. That thought niggled at the back of his mind, something she’d said the other day during their argument.
“Here,” he continued, offering her the cot. “I’ll start a fire.” She started to protest, but he grinned at her. “A magickal fire. It’s all the rage; I’m surprised you hadn’t heard about them.”
Arabelle laughed, and he saw her relax. Fishing for something to talk about, without making her angry, Gareth settled for what little they had in common.
“I’m sorry you had to be there,” he said. “You should’ve let me kill Corwin when I had the chance in that warehouse.” He smiled to take any sting out of his words. But she didn’t seem to take offense.
“Possibly,” she shrugged, “but he still has enough followers to make things difficult for us. Still, perhaps you’re right. Perhaps it would’ve been better to rid ourselves of him then. I’ve taken precautions,” she added, “and I understand you and Lords Preston and Granville have as well?”
“Some,” he agreed, no longer holding onto the anger he had whenever Preston’s name was mentioned. “But we have limited resources here.”
She rose and moved in a small circle around the magickal heat. Staring at the orb, she said, “I wonder what we’re going to find tomorrow. I’ve speculated on this.”
She looked up at him in concentration, excited concentration as if this were a new find. And he supposed it was, and as she was an Egyptologist, this would be exciting for her on many levels.
“I’ve wondered, so many times on what’s in the repository, what the ancients stored for us. If you knew your civilization was going to halt, to stop, to end what would you store? What would you keep for others to find?”
“I don’t know,” he shrugged. “I’m not sure I can answer that tonight. I hope,” he smiled, taking her hand and drawing her next to him again, “the ancients took more time in compiling whatever they hid.”
“I wonder. Sometimes, you don’t know – you don’t believe – that things will change.” She shook her head and he heard the frustration in her voice at not being able to express herself. But she all but bounced next to him in excitement. It was contagious.
“That you won’t wake up to a new world. Would they prepare? Did they have the time? Or was it too late?” She turned to look at him and in the dim artificial light he saw her enthusiasm. “It was such a long time ago, I wonder if we’ll ever know.”
Cupping her face, he smiled at her. “You’re so beautiful when you’re enthralled like this. When you’re passionate.”
Arabelle smiled back. Then, surprising him she leaned forward and kissed him. Her body was warm against his as she shifted, controlling the situation.
“Make love to me,” she said against his mouth.
Monday, December 13, 2010
Monday Excerpt: Dark Desires of the Druids: Sex and Subterfuge
Dark Desires of the Druids: Sex & Subterfuge now out in papaerback from Red Silk Editions in bookstores here and here and online here and here. 
Ahh, Lucien, how I adore thee. Hunky sexy magicker who's strong enough to love a woman more powerful than he is. Plus there's that sexy dining room table scene. *le sigh*
Pppssst...have you entered my Title Contest?
Excerpt:
Morgana waited until she couldn’t see David from her front windows before returning to her bedroom. Lucien was there, naked, by the window. The heavy curtain was pulled only slightly back, and she wondered if anyone could tell he stared into the morning from directly across the street.
What did he do before coming into her life? No simple English earl, that was for certain.
“What did he want?” Lucien asked as the curtain fell back into place. He turned and looked at her, his eyes unreadable.
“Me,” she said. Then shrugged and untied her dressing gown.
“Too bad,” he growled and before she blinked, he was before her. She was held tight against him, the hard length of his body. “You’re mine.”
Morgana barely had time to nod before his lips were on hers. Lucien gently pushed her onto their bed, one hand already finding its way underneath the damask dressing gown she wore.
“Your skin is smooth as silk,” he said. “I’ll never tire of feeling you under me.”
“Lucien,” Morgana breathed, unbelievably aroused at his words, his possessiveness. Shocked at her own need, her own desire to be his.
Ahh, Lucien, how I adore thee. Hunky sexy magicker who's strong enough to love a woman more powerful than he is. Plus there's that sexy dining room table scene. *le sigh*
Pppssst...have you entered my Title Contest?
Excerpt:
Morgana waited until she couldn’t see David from her front windows before returning to her bedroom. Lucien was there, naked, by the window. The heavy curtain was pulled only slightly back, and she wondered if anyone could tell he stared into the morning from directly across the street.
What did he do before coming into her life? No simple English earl, that was for certain.
“What did he want?” Lucien asked as the curtain fell back into place. He turned and looked at her, his eyes unreadable.
“Me,” she said. Then shrugged and untied her dressing gown.
“Too bad,” he growled and before she blinked, he was before her. She was held tight against him, the hard length of his body. “You’re mine.”
Morgana barely had time to nod before his lips were on hers. Lucien gently pushed her onto their bed, one hand already finding its way underneath the damask dressing gown she wore.
“Your skin is smooth as silk,” he said. “I’ll never tire of feeling you under me.”
“Lucien,” Morgana breathed, unbelievably aroused at his words, his possessiveness. Shocked at her own need, her own desire to be his.
Friday, December 10, 2010
Guest blogging, statistics and thoughts
First, tomorrow I'm over at Fang-tastic blogging about historical paranormals and why I find them fascinating to both read and write.
Now...statistics...
They're fascinating things. Here on Blogger, it's easy (now) to check your blog stats. For instance, I know my guest post from Keira of Love Romance Passion post from last year is still hugely popular, as is my review on Mr. Darcy Takes a Wife. (May-December 2010: 119 for Keira, and 236! for Mr. Darcy.)
I also seem to be popular in Russia and Hungary. (Spam anyone?) Even though the only thing I know in Russian is goodbye and that's in the Roman alphabet not Cyrillic. Hungarian? Nada.
The thing I notice is that people come. They read. They do not comment. I wonder why that is. Curious. My post on reviews and why you do them, where you post them, and if you comment on others gets hits, but no comments. Hmmm...
Even my guests get hits, especially after the fact, and yet very few comments. Example: Friday Guest: Wendi Zwaduk with 120 page views but only a measly 6 comments. 120 vs. 6...my math seems skewed.
I'm running a Title Contest, and have 2 comments, great suggestions but from only 2 people? Interesting.
And that's my tangent thought for the day.
Now...statistics...
They're fascinating things. Here on Blogger, it's easy (now) to check your blog stats. For instance, I know my guest post from Keira of Love Romance Passion post from last year is still hugely popular, as is my review on Mr. Darcy Takes a Wife. (May-December 2010: 119 for Keira, and 236! for Mr. Darcy.)
I also seem to be popular in Russia and Hungary. (Spam anyone?) Even though the only thing I know in Russian is goodbye and that's in the Roman alphabet not Cyrillic. Hungarian? Nada.
The thing I notice is that people come. They read. They do not comment. I wonder why that is. Curious. My post on reviews and why you do them, where you post them, and if you comment on others gets hits, but no comments. Hmmm...
Even my guests get hits, especially after the fact, and yet very few comments. Example: Friday Guest: Wendi Zwaduk with 120 page views but only a measly 6 comments. 120 vs. 6...my math seems skewed.
I'm running a Title Contest, and have 2 comments, great suggestions but from only 2 people? Interesting.
And that's my tangent thought for the day.
Thursday, December 9, 2010
Pictures to Smile at
These are from another forward. I don't know if they're staged, but they're adorable and made me smile. I hope they make you smile as well.
How can you not smile at the "I'm mad as hell and not going to take it anymore" look?
Just beautiful
Poor dog looks confused, but it's a great picture.
Took me a moment to get this one, but I kinda like it!
Oh, and don't forget my Title Contest!
How can you not smile at the "I'm mad as hell and not going to take it anymore" look?
Just beautiful
Poor dog looks confused, but it's a great picture.
Took me a moment to get this one, but I kinda like it!
There, have I made you smile today?
Monday, December 6, 2010
Monday's Excerpt Murder and Magick
Dark Desires of the Druids: Murder & Magick. This is my first published book, now out for 2 years (seriously, time does fly!) I'm very proud of it and absolutely adore the cover! It's now 
available for the Kindle for 99¢, but also on Ravenous, All Romance eBooks, B&N, and anywhere else you can think of to buy ebooks.
Oh, and don't forget my Title Contest!
Excerpt:
With another growl, he pulled her across him, boots forgotten, to attack her mouth. “Minx.”
She merely offered a smug smile and drew him closer.
Silken under his mouth, her skin heated from his touches. The cottage lay in darkness. Though he’d have preferred to see his lover in the full light of the sun, he knew her body well enough to bring her to pleasure every time.
She was right of course; things could no longer go on as they had been. Mac didn’t care as he entered her, and that bone-deep satisfaction settled over him, sheathed in her wet warmth.
God, this was heaven. Nothing in this world or, he was certain, the next could compare to being inside Raven. He couldn’t give this up, wasn’t sure how to give her up.
Savoring each thrust, the way she moved against him, Mac let the moment play out, let it stretch into the heated air around them, each of holding the other’s gaze.
And then it snapped. Raven cried his name and rode her orgasm out beneath him, hips grinding against his, a picture of wild and wanton beauty.
His to hold, his to delight in. As his own climax overtook him, Mac’s last coherent thought echoed through him.
Raven was his.
Need won over duty.
available for the Kindle for 99¢, but also on Ravenous, All Romance eBooks, B&N, and anywhere else you can think of to buy ebooks.Oh, and don't forget my Title Contest!
Excerpt:
With another growl, he pulled her across him, boots forgotten, to attack her mouth. “Minx.”
She merely offered a smug smile and drew him closer.
Silken under his mouth, her skin heated from his touches. The cottage lay in darkness. Though he’d have preferred to see his lover in the full light of the sun, he knew her body well enough to bring her to pleasure every time.
She was right of course; things could no longer go on as they had been. Mac didn’t care as he entered her, and that bone-deep satisfaction settled over him, sheathed in her wet warmth.
God, this was heaven. Nothing in this world or, he was certain, the next could compare to being inside Raven. He couldn’t give this up, wasn’t sure how to give her up.
Savoring each thrust, the way she moved against him, Mac let the moment play out, let it stretch into the heated air around them, each of holding the other’s gaze.
And then it snapped. Raven cried his name and rode her orgasm out beneath him, hips grinding against his, a picture of wild and wanton beauty.
His to hold, his to delight in. As his own climax overtook him, Mac’s last coherent thought echoed through him.
Raven was his.
Need won over duty.
Thursday, December 2, 2010
1920s story redux
Tri-dux? Is that a word? Re-redux? Either way, I'm slowly widdling it down. Revamping, rewording, basically rewriting large sections to get this story ready for submission. Man, makes me wish I'd done this when I finished it! Would've saved me lots of time now...
Alas I didn't. So I am now. But all this is really why the term 'FIRST DRAFT' was coined. I'm on draft 3, and am so very much happier with this, I can't begin to describe it.
The good news is that I'm through Acts 1 and 2 (of 5) and moving on through Act 3. I think I actually will have this finished by Christmas!
And don't forget my Title Contest!
Alas I didn't. So I am now. But all this is really why the term 'FIRST DRAFT' was coined. I'm on draft 3, and am so very much happier with this, I can't begin to describe it.
The good news is that I'm through Acts 1 and 2 (of 5) and moving on through Act 3. I think I actually will have this finished by Christmas!
And don't forget my Title Contest!
Wednesday, December 1, 2010
December?
It's December? I don't want to hear it. I refuse to believe it. I'm 
not ready.
Not for Christmas, nearly done with that shopping. But for the end of the year! Where did 2010 go? What happened to it? Why does time go by so darn quickly.
What did YOU accomplish in 2010? And what do you plan to accomplish for 2011?
And don't forget Friday guest Sandy Lender will be here!
OR my Title Contest!
not ready.Not for Christmas, nearly done with that shopping. But for the end of the year! Where did 2010 go? What happened to it? Why does time go by so darn quickly.
What did YOU accomplish in 2010? And what do you plan to accomplish for 2011?
And don't forget Friday guest Sandy Lender will be here!
OR my Title Contest!
Monday, November 29, 2010
Reviews
What makes you write a review? Do you write one for every single title you read? Do you post those reviews you do write at all possible places?
Probably not. Which might be a generalization but I certainly don't. I read so many more books than I write reviews for, and honesty post my reviews mostly here. I used to on Amazon, before I boycotted them permanently, but even now that I use Barnes & Noble, I find I don't post reviews on there for the books I read.
Can't tell you why that is, but there you have it. So...what makes YOU write a review?
And don't forget Friday guest Sandy Lender will be here!
Oh, and don't forget my Title Contest!
Probably not. Which might be a generalization but I certainly don't. I read so many more books than I write reviews for, and honesty post my reviews mostly here. I used to on Amazon, before I boycotted them permanently, but even now that I use Barnes & Noble, I find I don't post reviews on there for the books I read.
Can't tell you why that is, but there you have it. So...what makes YOU write a review?
And don't forget Friday guest Sandy Lender will be here!
Oh, and don't forget my Title Contest!
Friday, November 26, 2010
Shopping!
Who's awake at that ungodly hour and standing in that freezing line waiting for the perfect gift. Rather, the perfect sale?
*ahem*
Raises hand.
Have you SEEN these Black Friday sales? Wow, they're amazing. So I got up waaayyy early, trudged off to the story, and will let you all know my amazing buys when I return.
If I return alive.
And don't forget my Title Contest!
Thursday, November 25, 2010
Happy Thanksgiving, America!
And for those of you outside the US, I'm sure you have something to be 
thankful for as well. It's a day for remembering and appreciating all those you love and care about. So Happy Thanksgiving to you, too. :)
thankful for as well. It's a day for remembering and appreciating all those you love and care about. So Happy Thanksgiving to you, too. :)Not what we say about our blessing, but how we use them is the true measure of our thanksgiving. ~W.T. Purkiser
And don't forget my Title Contest!
Wednesday, November 24, 2010
Got zombie?
Homepage of the Dead...yup, you read right! It's a website dedicated to 
zombies, zombies, and more zombies. They're giving away a copy of Hungry for Your Love, so if you have ANY interest in zombies, stop on by!
zombies, zombies, and more zombies. They're giving away a copy of Hungry for Your Love, so if you have ANY interest in zombies, stop on by!From their about us page:
This site is dedicated to the horror films comprising the George A. Romero "Dead" series of films, Night of the Living Dead, Dawn of the Dead, Day of the Dead, Land of the Dead and Diary of the Dead.
And don't forget my Title Contest!
Tuesday, November 23, 2010
Characterization
I had problems (ongoing) with my hero and realized in all the past stories I've written, either he hero or heroine give me trouble. Never both in the same story, and never just the guy or the girl.
For instance, in my dark Regency story, I had Grayson, the hero, nailed almost instantly. My heroine, Juliette, on the other hand, gave me problems like a teenage daughter on her first date.
In this 1920s story, I had to go back and examine both hero and heroine's motivations number of words, and in doing so realized I needed to change the beginning...almost completely. But let's not go into that. My problem isn't my heroine, Emma, but my hero, Jared.
Anyway else have this problem? Not knowing who their character is no matter how many times you beg him/her to talk to you? Or how many times you bang your head against the wall/keyboard?
Help!
And don't forget my Title Contest!
For instance, in my dark Regency story, I had Grayson, the hero, nailed almost instantly. My heroine, Juliette, on the other hand, gave me problems like a teenage daughter on her first date.
In this 1920s story, I had to go back and examine both hero and heroine's motivations number of words, and in doing so realized I needed to change the beginning...almost completely. But let's not go into that. My problem isn't my heroine, Emma, but my hero, Jared.
Anyway else have this problem? Not knowing who their character is no matter how many times you beg him/her to talk to you? Or how many times you bang your head against the wall/keyboard?
Help!
And don't forget my Title Contest!
Monday, November 22, 2010
Excerpt Monday: Whispers
This is from Whisperes, my short story in the anthology Power Plays. (Pst: it's on sale now, only $2.49!)
Olivia Adair is a junior senator having an affair with the Department of
Justice liason, Ryan Granger. Neither want to give up their careers, but aren't willing to give up each other, either. Leaving her senate office late one night, Ryan overhears an aide talking about the death of a senior senator. He investigates, but when Olivia is hurt in a car accident, he wonders if the aide is now after her. Will he give up his position to save her life or is already it too late?
And don't forget my Title Contest!
Olivia Adair is a junior senator having an affair with the Department of
Justice liason, Ryan Granger. Neither want to give up their careers, but aren't willing to give up each other, either. Leaving her senate office late one night, Ryan overhears an aide talking about the death of a senior senator. He investigates, but when Olivia is hurt in a car accident, he wonders if the aide is now after her. Will he give up his position to save her life or is already it too late?““In this building? Everyone’s too busy trying to one up each other in committee meetings or on the senate floor to notice.” Looking at his cell he said, “It’s 10:28, are we too late for that great Chinese place by your house?”
“Wu’s? No, they never close.” Olivia slipped on her jacket and grabbed a folder from a side table. “I just have to drop this off at Senator Boyd’s office.”
“Wouldn’t it be locked?” He peered quizzically at her.
“Yes. I’m dropping this through the mail slot. Some statistics I want him to see, buttering him up for a vote next week.”
“Butter,” he mused as they left her office and started down the long corridor. “We haven’t tried butter yet.”
Playfully elbowing her lover, she laughed. “Too greasy. I still think the whipped cream and warm chocolate are the best.”
“MMmm chocolate, that was a delicious evening.” Ryan glanced around but they were alone in the corridor. “One we need to repeat soon.”
“Behave,” she scolded without much heat.
“I wonder how many senators have had tête-à -tête’s here?” Ryan wiggled his eyebrows at her. He looked so preposterous she wanted to kiss him.
“I think the question is, how many haven’t?” she chuckled softly. “I was thirty when I became a senator and I thought I’d seen everything. I was wrong.”
“Orgies on the copy machine?” he smirked.
“Not quite but also not far off,” she winked. “Once I . . .” Olivia stopped talking and motioned for Ryan to hush. She pointed at a light through a slightly ajar office door. Bringing her finger to her lips, she rushed by it to slip the folder through Senator Boyd’s mail slot.
The two remained quiet as they retraced their steps. Hearing whispers, Olivia glanced at Ryan who’d stopped to listen.
“It would be the perfect solution.” The voice drifted through the door.
Olivia peeked in to see Senator Phillips’ aide talking on his cell. She tugged on Ryan’s arm but he continued to listen. Nosy isn’t he, she thought.
“Who would question if an old man died in his sleep?”
Her eyes widened and she stifled a gasp. Ryan sharply glanced at her but her hand already covered her mouth. He moved another step closer, straining to hear the conversation. She followed him.
“Perhaps it’s wishful thinking, but stranger things have happened before a major vote.”
Waving a hand dismissively, Olivia gripped Ryan’s hand and urged him to walk away. She’d heard this kind of thing before.
“Murder plots in the senate office building?” Ryan questioned as they reentered Olivia’s office. He closed the door behind them.
And don't forget my Title Contest!
Friday, November 19, 2010
The Romance Studio contest
I don't know why I did it, I mean I'm not planning on being online much this weekend, but I signed up to be a part of The Romance Studio's Thanksgiving Party.It starts November 20 and runs through November 23, and I'll be giving away a print copy of Dark Desires of the Druids: Desert & Destiny, so stop on by!
Psst: I hear one of the grand prizes is a nook...
And don't forget my Title Contest!
Thursday, November 18, 2010
Movie Review: How to Train Your Dragon
This was a cute movie. I almost didn't watch it because I wasn't certain it 
was the kind of movie I'd enjoy. I love animated movies, don't get me wrong, and the viking history looked great, but it's the very anachronismtic humor in this that originally turned me off. But then everyone at work raved about it. I trust several of them for movie and book recommendations, so took their advice. I'm glad I did!
How to Train Your Dragon is also a book seires (which I haven't read but might) by Cressida Cowell. Thereby proving that more than the Harry Potter series can be made into a good movie. (Yes. I'm looking at you, Percy Jackson! Though I liked the movie, it was so different from the book that they weren't even related.)
So what did I like about it?
It was everything a kid's movie should be: cute, funny, exciting, and yes, even touching. True, some of the characters are a bit cliche and the humor is not entirely original, but somehow the story pulls you in. I found myself rooting for the cliche characters and cracking up at the corny jokes. By the end I was so invested, I almost shed a tear. Almost.
Side note: Kids with trouble fitting in should definitely watch this movie!
And don't forget my Title Contest!
was the kind of movie I'd enjoy. I love animated movies, don't get me wrong, and the viking history looked great, but it's the very anachronismtic humor in this that originally turned me off. But then everyone at work raved about it. I trust several of them for movie and book recommendations, so took their advice. I'm glad I did!How to Train Your Dragon is also a book seires (which I haven't read but might) by Cressida Cowell. Thereby proving that more than the Harry Potter series can be made into a good movie. (Yes. I'm looking at you, Percy Jackson! Though I liked the movie, it was so different from the book that they weren't even related.)
So what did I like about it?
It was everything a kid's movie should be: cute, funny, exciting, and yes, even touching. True, some of the characters are a bit cliche and the humor is not entirely original, but somehow the story pulls you in. I found myself rooting for the cliche characters and cracking up at the corny jokes. By the end I was so invested, I almost shed a tear. Almost.
Side note: Kids with trouble fitting in should definitely watch this movie!
And don't forget my Title Contest!
Monday, August 23, 2010
British nobility
For most of July I did a blog tour, so many blogs, so much desire to recycle them. For the remainder of August and probably much of September, I plan on using them. I'm blog-burned out for the moment, so this is the best I can manage. :)
My lord! My lady! My Lord in heaven, seriously-stop already! Tedious isn’t it? And yet as historical writers, we have to get it right. Not just right, but dead on. Because those who read historicals? THEY KNOW! And if you make a mistake, and it gets printed, forget it.
Peerage basics are actually fairly complicated so basics is a misnomer. There are sites and books who spell it all out fare better than I, but here you go. (If you want a much more comprehensive site on it, try here.)
My one pet peeve of historicals: Why are there so many dukes?
Still, don't forget the order from lowest to highest:
Sir and Lady/Dame and Lord (non hereditary)
Baronet and lady (hereditary but don't hold seats in the House of Lords)
Baron and Baroness
Viscount and Viscountess
Earls and Countesses
Marquess and Marchioness
Duke and Duchess
Prince and Princess
King and Queen
You probably figured out those last 2 eh? Yeah. So there you have it, the order of titles. More importantly, what can you do with all that formality today?
Different ranks and different family relations are addressed in different manners. Today, it's a lot simpler than Jane Austen, even Georgette Heyer. Trust me, that's a bit relief!
Your heroine can now get away with calling the hero by his first name, as would close family and his closest of friends. Strangers would still refer to him in the proper manner-by his last name or title. Isn’t it amazing what a little modern thinking can get you? And how intimate it makes everything?
Dark Desires of the Druids: Sex & Subterfuge available now in bookstores. Free short Story: Dark Desires of the Druids: Choose Your Own Adventure.
British Nobility
My lord! My lady! My Lord in heaven, seriously-stop already! Tedious isn’t it? And yet as historical writers, we have to get it right. Not just right, but dead on. Because those who read historicals? THEY KNOW! And if you make a mistake, and it gets printed, forget it.
Peerage basics are actually fairly complicated so basics is a misnomer. There are sites and books who spell it all out fare better than I, but here you go. (If you want a much more comprehensive site on it, try here.)
My one pet peeve of historicals: Why are there so many dukes?
Still, don't forget the order from lowest to highest:
Sir and Lady/Dame and Lord (non hereditary)
Baronet and lady (hereditary but don't hold seats in the House of Lords)
Baron and Baroness
Viscount and Viscountess
Earls and Countesses
Marquess and Marchioness
Duke and Duchess
Prince and Princess
King and Queen
You probably figured out those last 2 eh? Yeah. So there you have it, the order of titles. More importantly, what can you do with all that formality today?
Different ranks and different family relations are addressed in different manners. Today, it's a lot simpler than Jane Austen, even Georgette Heyer. Trust me, that's a bit relief!
Your heroine can now get away with calling the hero by his first name, as would close family and his closest of friends. Strangers would still refer to him in the proper manner-by his last name or title. Isn’t it amazing what a little modern thinking can get you? And how intimate it makes everything?
Dark Desires of the Druids: Sex & Subterfuge available now in bookstores. Free short Story: Dark Desires of the Druids: Choose Your Own Adventure.
Friday, October 26, 2007
Friday
I need to come up with better titles for my blogs. Seriously, Friday? Like you can't tell it's a Friday post from the date stamp?
Maybe I should rename it Titles, because that's really the crux of the problem today. Actually, naming anything. The story, the characters, it's all bad. Any writer out there knows what I'm talking about. How many times can you name your hero James or Michael or Mark or ah...whatever? Or your heroine. Sure, you've got names you love and adore, but naming every single woman after your own name is confusing and obvious. :)
I tend to look through baby names sites. My favorite is Babynames.com, and I have several books on Celtic and Gaelic names, plus all those books with random names in them. For historical ones, it's tough. Where, when, how far back, etc. for my Austrian story, I found this limited site. It's good, but I'm positive there have to be more names out there.
Sites, books; they're all good. More importantly, they have names. My problem is I tend to gravitate to the names that I've already used, or ones that begin with the same letter.
I won't even go into titles. Once in a while one will fit to perfection. Once in a great while. Otherwise, I can only hope that someone else will think of a better one. For months, I referred to a story solely by 'title'. That was its name. I read all these story titles and think how perfectly they fit. Then I look at mine, and cringe.
It's got to get better...right?
Maybe I should rename it Titles, because that's really the crux of the problem today. Actually, naming anything. The story, the characters, it's all bad. Any writer out there knows what I'm talking about. How many times can you name your hero James or Michael or Mark or ah...whatever? Or your heroine. Sure, you've got names you love and adore, but naming every single woman after your own name is confusing and obvious. :)
I tend to look through baby names sites. My favorite is Babynames.com, and I have several books on Celtic and Gaelic names, plus all those books with random names in them. For historical ones, it's tough. Where, when, how far back, etc. for my Austrian story, I found this limited site. It's good, but I'm positive there have to be more names out there.
Sites, books; they're all good. More importantly, they have names. My problem is I tend to gravitate to the names that I've already used, or ones that begin with the same letter.
I won't even go into titles. Once in a while one will fit to perfection. Once in a great while. Otherwise, I can only hope that someone else will think of a better one. For months, I referred to a story solely by 'title'. That was its name. I read all these story titles and think how perfectly they fit. Then I look at mine, and cringe.
It's got to get better...right?
Thursday, September 6, 2007
End of summer sickness
I hate being sick, let alone in the summer. Despite the hype about Labor Day end of summer-ness. Stuffy nose, fuzzy head, ugh.
And yet I managed to write another chapter to Sordid Games (making it 2 - whoo-hoo!) and flesh out the still untitled new mystery. Have 2 pages of that finished. And no, those 2 pages have nothing to do with the actual plot. It is an erotica, after all. *G*
Sleep is in my future, sleep and medication. Gotta love science.
And yet I managed to write another chapter to Sordid Games (making it 2 - whoo-hoo!) and flesh out the still untitled new mystery. Have 2 pages of that finished. And no, those 2 pages have nothing to do with the actual plot. It is an erotica, after all. *G*
Sleep is in my future, sleep and medication. Gotta love science.
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