The Rhythm of the Word, Part 2

The Rhythm of the Word continues with more sentence selection choices to vary your writing style and engage your reader:

Repetition of a key term. Example: We all inhabit a mysterious world—the inner world, the world of the mind.

A variation: same word repeated in parallel structure. Example: Romeo and Juliet captures a moment of time, a moment of passion, a moment of desperate indulgence.

Emphatic appositive at end, after a colon

Example: Atop the back of the lobster is a collection of trash: tiny starfish, moss, sea conchs, crabs, pieces of kelp.

A variation: appositive (single or pair of series after a dash)

Example: Many traditional philosophies echo the ideas of one man—Plato

Interrupting modifier between subject and verb

Example: A small drop of ink, falling like dew upon a thought, can make millions think.

A full sentence as interrupting modifier

Example: Juliet’s famous question—early in the balcony scene she asks, “Wherefore art thou, Romeo—is often misunderstood; she meant not “where,” but “why.”

Introductory or concluding participles

Example: Overwhelmed by the tear gas, the rioters groped their way toward the fountain to wash their eyes.

A single modifier out of place for emphasis

Example: Frantically, the young mother called for help.

Prepositional phrase before subject and verb

Example: Despite his master’s degree in economics, the only job Chester could get was making change in an Atlantic City casino.

Object or complement before subject and verb

Example: His kind of sarcasm I do not like.

Complete inversion of normal pattern

Example: Down the street and through the mist stumbled the unfamiliar figure.

Paired constructions

Example: The more the Texas Ranger searched through the country, the more elusive the trail of the train robbers became.

A paired construction for contrast only

Example: Genius, not stupidity, has limits.

Dependent clause as subject or object or complement

Example: What man cannot imagine, he cannot create.

Absolute construction anywhere in sentence

Example: His blanket torn and his finger burnt, the small boy cried on his father’s shoulder.

The short, simple sentence for relief or dramatic effect

Example: Days passed.

A short question for dramatic effect

Example: What caused the change?

The deliberate fragment

Example: Fair enough.

Keep all these sentence styles near your computer to help you remember all the different variations.  And pay attention to the rhythm of the sentences, the syllables and the words.  The ear is the best writer.  If you keep your writing lyrical, you're writing will sing!

Weeks to come:  Shameless Promotion

How to Creatively Promote while on Vacation and During the Holidays

How Just a Little Initiative Can Make Things Happen

Case Study #1: While on a Caribbean cruise two weeks ago, we stopped at Belize, which just happens to be the site of my latest book “The Montezuma Secret.” When we went ashore, we stopped at an art gallery where a TV camera crew was filming award-winning paintings for that evening’s newscast. My boyfriend went up to the reporter and said “She wrote a book about Belize.” The reporter’s interest perked up and he came over and talked to me where I explained about how “The Montezuma Secret” had been set in Belize, was available on Amazon.com and Smashwords.com and how it had received Five Star Reviews on Goodreads and Amazon. His interest perked up further. He congratulated me on giving him a new angle for the story and agreed to interview me. We went outside, where there was a lovely backdrop of the river and sailboats behind me and he asked me about how I decided to set the book in Belize. I explained that it was a beautiful exotic place that I always wanted to visit and how I wished I had more time to stay in the country other than the short cruise ship stop. I also explained that “The Montezuma Secret” was about a search for Montezuma’s lost gold which has never been found, although rumors abounded that the gold might have been moved to neighboring Guatemala. I added that I fictionalized moving the gold to Belize because I had wanted to set a story there. The interview was set to air that night on local TV. Moral of the story: You never know when a good promotional opportunity will come along so keep your eyes open, be gutsy and be prepared!

Case Study #2: I live in a small quaint village in Wisconsin, just south of Milwaukee, which celebrates every holiday with verve and panache—thousands of tiny lights, hay rides, craft fairs, horse-drawn sleigh rides at Christmas, you name it, they’ve thought of it. All of these events are very well attended, drawing thousands of people from Milwaukee and the surrounding suburbs as well as neighboring Illinois. While visiting the downtown area this past October, I happened to notice a poster on one of the charming little shops promoting someone’s book for the upcoming annual “Hay Days” celebration. I went inside and talked to the clerk, who told me it was her book and said the owner had graciously agreed to let her promote it inside her shop during “Hay Days.” I asked her how I could participate in future events. She told me to contact the village and noted that everyone had been very helpful to local vendors, artists, and authors. I contacted the village via their website, but heard nothing back. (There were several different websites, one for the shops and business, one for the village itself and I wasn’t sure which one was the correct venue.) After two attempts and still hearing nothing back, I contacted the mayor directly. He was kind enough to give me a return phone call and advised me to contact the manager of all the local businesses, which I did. The manager told me to contact one of the shop owners to act as a sponsor for a future event: “Dickens of a Christmas,” “Valentine’s Day,” etc. I am in the process of doing that and hope to be a participant in the next Valentine’s Day event as a great tie-in for a local romance author. Moral of the story: If at first you don’t’ succeed, try, try again!
What’s your favorite promotional story?
Next week: How to Make a Cheap, Quick and Easy Book Trailer

What Sells Books?

Simple question: what makes books sell the MOST?
1. Plots
2. Characters
3. Title
4. Cover
5. Good Cover Blurb/Plot Synopsis
6. Price
7. Good Reviews
8. Word of Mouth
9. Established Author with multiple titles
10. Facebook/Twitter/Other Social Media
11. Successful Blog with large number of Blog Followers
12. Popularity of Genre (Vampires, Shapeshifters, Werewolves)
13. Good Publicity/Promotion Plan
14. Paid Advertising

What do you think? Personally, I think good reviews and word of mouth help the most as well as being an author with multiple titles and a good track record. What do you think?

Next Week: Help for Indie Authors

Baaaaaad Reviews: Teaching Perseverance

Many blogs and groups bemoan the presence of bad reviews. And they are terrible. I got a one star on Goodreads once and was devastated. However, we can learn from them (at least, some of them) and learn to rise above them. For example, one reviewer said I referred to the heroine’s pulsing Adam’s Apple, pointing out women don’t have Adam’s Apples. I checked this out. They do have Adam’s Apples, they just aren’t as prominent as men’s. And it was only mentioned twice in the whole book. But I do know not to use that comparison anymore. And I am learning to make the heroine as likeable as possible, based on what a few reviewers said, even though she may have a few flaws.
And for fun, I checked out the reviews for one of my favorite books, Nora Roberts’ “The Reef.” There were plenty of negative reviews. I thought how could there be? This book was excellent. Yet there they were. Almost thirty three, two and one star reviews—one person even called it the worst book they had ever read, another said it was disappointing and yet another said the story didn’t go anywhere! It just goes to show you everyone sees things differently, has a different opinion, just like taste buds, and there is nothing you can do about it, except move on and not let any of it get to you. And don’t take it personally, unless there are some despicable ad hominem attacks, which are uncalled for and can be removed from the review sites, upon request.
When we put a book out there, it’s in the public eye, whether we like it or not, kind of like running for office. And all of our good points and our bad are up for inspection. Most people tend to concentrate on the good things and offer constructive criticism, but some wish to only focus on the negative. They may be motivated by a variety of things. Maybe they’ve wanted to write a book and couldn’t or maybe they’ve just had a bad day. The important thing is to keep your “eyes on the prize” and don’t let anyone deter you from your goals. It’s amazing to read the biographies of famous actors who have been rejected hundreds of times but keep going or if they finally do get a part, they describe the dozens of bombs they’ve appeared on, either on stage or in the movies. The same is true of writers. Jack London collected 266 rejection slips. When HG Wells wrote “War of the Worlds,” some described it as “horrid.” The first “Chicken Soup” book was rejected 140 times until it finally found an independent publisher.
We can’t erase very bad review, no matter how much we want to. We can cry, yell, pound our fists, flail our arms, and swear like a sailor. But we should never, ever stop writing and doing what we love. If there is any valuable constructive criticism in the review, we can learn from it. I will never stop writing, no matter what. I love putting myself in the main character’s role too much. I love slugging it out with the bad guys and the good guys, putting my heroine in jungles and snake pits, and enjoy writing the sexy love scenes. So stay strong and persevere, no matter what anybody says!
What’s the worst review you’ve ever got? You don’t need to mention the book. And what is it that they hated the most? Or if that’s too painful, I understand. How about describing your reaction and what you did in response? Did you learn anything?
Next week: What is your Heart’s Desire?
Also: Book Giveaway of “The Montezuma Secret.”
Five Stars on Amazon and Goodreads

New Release: Dangerous Charade by Elizabeth Means!

Thanks, Alison, for having me as a guest on your blog! Today I’m going to talk a little bit about how and where I come up with story ideas. The short answer is…I get my ideas everywhere. My “writer’s antennae” is up all the time. Every juicy bit of news, gossip, current event, personal drama , interesting historical reference, natural disaster, etc., etc. that the antennae picks up eventually ends up in the writing corner of my mind. There it gets filtered and sorted into one of three categories: A. Yes! This would make a great stand-alone story hook. B. Meh, this could make a great kernel or sub-plot to weave into a different story. C. Junk, mental delete.
I write down the ones I want to keep on an index card and put them in what I’ve come to refer to as my idea box. It’s an old, oval-shaped wooden box that sits on a shelf. I’ve been doing this for years and the box is currently overflowing with ideas. It would take me multiple lifetimes to flesh them all out into finished stories.
Sometimes when the mood strikes me I’ll get the box out and play mad scientist with the ideas. I’ll take one idea and see what would happen if I added an element of another. Or two others. Or somehow turn the idea on its head. A word of caution, though, this method could lead to a super-story discovery that will have you up writing for nights because you’re too excited about the idea to sleep. On the other hand, it may lead straight to a horrific “Franken-story.” Beware!
This is partly how I came up with my idea for “Dangerous Charade.” I love James Bond stories. The idea of an elite, larger-than-life, (and oh-so-sexy) agent working for a mysterious boss named “M” to solve a mystery, catch a bad guy and not get killed at the same time draws me in every time. Plus, he gets to use high-tech, top-secret weapons and gadgets and go toe-to-toe with some of the world’s worst criminal minds.
But what if James Bond was a young female? Living in England in the 1880’s? What if instead of wearing a fashionable watch that’s also a Geiger counter this female James Bond carries a fashionable black-fringed parasol that’s also a gun? It’s been a lot of fun dreaming up gadgets for my Victorian era heroine.
I hope my idea process has inspired you. I find the initial, conceptual phase of a writing project to be the one that makes me the giddiest with excitement and anticipation of what’s to come. I strive to enjoy it to the fullest because after it comes the business of writing. Then re-writing. And that’s a completely different animal!

BLURB: Dangerous Charade
To escape an arranged marriage Gabrielle Broussard flees her home to become an undercover investigator with an elite, all-female investigative agency. Her first assignment, as governess at Westford castle to investigate the suspicious death of the Countess of Westford, quickly becomes complicated when she finds herself attracted to her number one suspect.
Lord Julian Blackwell is a survivor. After his father’s bankruptcy, he becomes a self-made man in Victorian England’s booming industrial era. Trapped into a loveless marriage, he has survived the shock of his wife’s sudden death. But now he must survive rumors and outright accusations. Hiring a private agency to investigate and prove his innocence seems like a good idea…until desire threatens to compromise both the case and the life of the investigator.

EXCERPT: Dangerous Charade
Gabrielle raced across the lawn toward a side entrance most often used by the servants at Westford. Dawn was breaking and she needed to move fast. If anyone saw her, she would be hard-pressed to explain why she was returning from a ride at this time of day, in the dark. And carrying a fancy parasol, no less.
She’d almost reached the door when Julian’s voice cut through the still morning air like a knife.
“Gabrielle.”
“Oh!” Her free hand flew to her mouth as she whirled toward the sound of his voice. He stood close to the building, hidden in the shadows. “My lord, you nearly scared me to death! I didn’t see you there.”
“Clearly.”
“Just what are you doing out here, lurking about in the shadows?” she demanded, adrenaline pumping.
“What am I doing?” He stared at her incredulously. “Not that I owe you any explanation for my actions while on my own estate, but I came out to watch the sunrise. What the devil are you doing?”
“I was…checking on Buttercup. I’m told she’s been acting strangely.” Gabrielle took a few more steps toward the building. “But—good news—it appears she’s doing fine.”
In a flash Julian was between her and the door. He regarded her closely. “That doesn’t explain why you’re lugging a parasol around in the dark.”
Gabrielle swallowed hard. She saw his green eyes narrow. “One never knows what one might encounter lurking about in the shadows. I may have needed it to defend myself from something. Or someone,” she added pointedly.
Julian stepped closer to her; they were less than an arm’s length apart. “Do you think you need it now?” The suggestive tone in his voice was unmistakable.
Her breathing quickened, and she averted her gaze. “What I think is that you are most unnerving.”
Julian reached out and tilted her chin up with his fingers. “What kind of game are you playing, Gabrielle?”
She didn’t answer. And he didn’t ask again. Instead he brought his head down very slowly and claimed her mouth with his own.

Author Website:
www.elizabeth-means.com
Buy Link: Now available from the Wild Rose Press!
http://www.thewildrosepress.com/index.php?main_page=product_info&cPath=176_138&products_id=4629

Good luck with your new release Elizabeth, sounds very exciting. PS, I love your 'what-if?' It sounds like a winner! Writers take note: turning an idea on its head is a great gateway to success!
Next week: The Importance of Bad Reviews

What Makes a Best-Seller: The Masses or the Media?

What Makes a Best-Seller, The Masses or the Media?
Suddenly a book or movie catapults to life, seemingly out of nowhere, an instant success. What fueled this sudden rise to prominence? The media posting good reviews, the author or its stars appearing on talk shows touting its excellence? Or is the success independent of its reviews? Are the people flocking to it first or are they only flocking to it because the media told them to? Which came first: the masses or the media? From Jacqueline Mitchard’s Deep End of the Ocean, getting a huge boost from Oprah’s endorsement or more recently, the critics heaping praise on Like Water for Elephants and The Help, these books became tremendously successful at both the box office and the bookstore because of a positive media spin.

While I’m not sure, all I can say is that they all came to my attention because of what I’d read in the news media first. My first thought is ‘well it must be good, it’s getting good reviews. I have to read it or I have to see it.” Sometimes the praise is justified, some not. And conversely, some books and movies that are a huge hit with audiences are a flop with critics. National Treasure and The DaVinci Code are two examples that come to mind.

Like with any good or bad review, ‘caveat emptor,’ the buyer needs to be beware. In the case of Deep End of the Ocean, I didn’t think the praise was warranted, but that’s just me. I don’t care for those type of stories and I didn’t think it was terribly original, kind of a paper tiger at the end. Too much inner angst. Not my thing, just like Jodi Picault or Joyce Carol Oates. Too maudlin and too sad. But that’s my opinion. Other people love it. I don’t like vampire stories either. Other people eat them up, pardon the pun. Then again, I loved The Help and thought Like Water for Elephants was good, but not great. So reviews must be in the eye of the beholder. Everybody sees things differently. And that’s OK. But does the media have too much power in making or breaking an artist’s work? Are we slaves to what they like and don’t like? Or can we rise above it and make our own choices, come what may? I think we can and do, whether it comes to the arts or choosing a political candidate. Public opinion can be a very powerful force. But who shapes it: the masses or the media?
Next week: Elizabeth Means is my Guest

Bending the Romantic Template: The Eternal Triangle, A No-No in Romance?

One hero, one heroine. Once the hero meets the heroine and vice-versa, he/she can’t look at, drool, or otherwise be attracted to anyone else, much less make love with anyone else. The Romantic Template. Can we break, bend, tweak, or fiddle with or if we do, do we do so at our own peril? The romance novel is a highly successful genre. Is it heresy to deviate from this established tried and true formula? Would it be a fatal mistake to introduce a third party to compete for the hero or heroine’s attention? I think the addition of a third party, known as the eternal triangle, adds the possibility of vengeance and my favorite—jealousy—to the equation. Both aspects can heighten conflict, spice up suspense, add mystery and sexual tension, etc. Who is the villain, which one is the knight in shining armor? Isn’t that what we do in our everyday lives when we date people and choose which one to marry? Plus it could even evoke sympathy for the main character. Nothing is more heartbreaking than watching the hero or heroine think that the love of his/her life has just been lost to a romantic rival. It pulls at my heartstrings every time. And when the tide turns and he/she gets him/her back, nothing makes me happier when I reach the ending of the story. Justice has been done!

The eternal triangle has been around for centuries, playing a central role in both real and fictional life. Many wars have been fought for love. Think Lancelot and King Arthur. Helen of Troy. Many crimes have been committed in the heat of passion, all because of a third party’s unwelcome intrusion. In my stories, I like to either have two women lusting after the hero or two men chasing after the heroine. Their motives can either be good or bad. The trick is to guess which one is doing what and a mystery unfolds as to who the real hero is. I’m not suggesting anything illicit, just good old-fashioned competition. In The Secret Sentinel, Savannah Rutledge is kidnapped by the mysterious Antonio Desada, but still carries a torch for Eric Gale. In The Montezuma Secret, TV star Erica Kingsley is still in love with handsome survivalist Trey Zacco, but must compete for his attentions with his lovely producer, Morgana Montez. One of my favorite authors, Sandra Brown, writes in Envy about a book editor who is married, but has a strange attraction to a mysterious writer. In Brown’s Chill Factor, the main character has an ex-husband who wants her back, but instead falls for a guy who might or might not be a serial killer. It’s so much fun to figure out who she’ll end up with and why.

I remember reading once that romances are usually about “two dogs fighting over the same bone.” Kind of an unattractive analogy, but true. The two main characters are usually squabbling over something they both desperately want: the family business, the ranch, the country estate, a treasure, etc. as well as fighting for each other’s love. The end, we know, will be a happy one. Thank goodness! They get what they want in love and resolve their ultimate quest. And doesn’t it add something spicy and complicate things if they’re also competing with a third party to win the love of their life?

Here's an excerpt from my latest book The Montezuma Secret:

Reappearing ten minutes later, dressed in a tiny gold lame bikini with a fresh layer of lip gloss applied, Erica stopped short at the sight of a half-naked Trey astride his Harley, a pair of sleek wraparound Rayban sunglasses perched atop his head.
Without his shirt and his shoulders buffed to a bronzy glow, he looked like a young Adonis. He fixed her with a mesmerizing gaze, his peacock blue eyes piercing hers, an obvious sexual come-on, she was sure of it. A shock of thick wiry hair flopped forward onto his forehead, adding a charming touch of boyishness that only added to his alluring all-male appeal.
And the way he ogled her in that bikini, she knew he liked what he saw. It hugged every curve, accentuated her ample cleavage and made her legs look as long as an Amazon’s. She felt like one too, brazen, aggressive and totally lacking in inhibitions.
She got on the motorcycle behind him, riding it sidesaddle. This time she needed no encouragement. Her arms flew around his naked waist and she let her long legs dangle so they made contact with his thigh. She leaned forward so her breasts caressed his bare back and when the photographer turned on the wind machine, her long hair flew behind her in the breeze. His body heat and strong muscles acted like an instant aphrodisiac.
The photographer handed them each a glass of champagne in tall crystal flutes and began snapping. Trey could not keep his eyes off her legs, she noted with pride, as the photographer had to keep reminding him to stare into the camera. Finally, he asked them to clink glasses and stare into each other’s eyes. She knew she had him then. She’d apologize to her father later for reneging on her promise not to fall prey to Trey’s charms again.
After a few more shots, the photographer motioned them off the cycle, then removed the vehicle and the backdrop, leaving them awkwardly standing next to one another, half-dressed, champagne glasses still clutched in their hands.
Trey broke the stalemate first and grinned mischievously before downing his champagne in one gulp. Erica copied him and they both laughed. Trey walked over to the food cart next, slathered some caviar on a cracker and popped it into his mouth before pouring himself more champagne and re-filling Erica’s glass.
Suddenly feeling wanton and not the least bit self-conscious, Erica picked up one of the sinfully rich pastries loaded with whipped cream and fed it to him. When some of the cream landed on the corners of his mouth, she wiped off the excess with her index finger and made him lick it off. She watched his tongue slowly swirl off the cream and take her finger in his mouth until he stopped at her knuckle.
“Mmmm,” she purred in approval.
“All right, you two. I don’t want to get out the fire hose,” the photographer joked.
He’d changed the scenery again. An oversized wing chair, one big enough for giants, sat where the motorcycle once stood. The Paris skyline, complete with the Eiffel Tower and the Arc de Triomphe, now served as the new backdrop.
“All right, Trey. Climb up into that chair and Erica, you sit on his lap. Get it? ‘Lap of Luxury.’ And fill those glasses again.”
After pouring them more champagne, Trey clambered up onto the huge chair while Erica held the glasses for him. He gave Erica a careful boost so as not to spill any of the champagne and then she maneuvered herself onto his lap, throwing an arm around his bare shoulder. The liquor had loosened his inhibitions and that was just the way she wanted it. Getting him back again was going to be easier than she’d planned.
“Feel free to ad lib some dialogue, guys,” the photographer instructed, zeroing in on both of them with his lens. “So far, it’s looking great.”
“Contrary to public opinion,” Erica began, a little giddy, as she downed another glass of champagne, “Trey and I do get along. Even though we’re from opposite sides of the program guide. As a matter of fact, I like wild things and I think wild things like me. Tune in to see the fur fly.”
Trey laughed uproariously at the pun.
“Cut!” the photographer yelled.
Erica inched up higher on his lap, feeling Trey’s swelling erection poking her bottom.
“Do you like it wild, Trey?”
He shifted uncomfortably, suddenly eager to remove her from his lap. He shimmied off the chair, leaving her sitting alone and feeling foolish perched atop the gargantuan thing, still wearing the tiny bikini. She wondered what she’d done to cause such a strange transformation.
Straining to see what was behind Trey’s agitation, she scooted off the chair seat and leapt down, then followed him to the doorway, her high heels clacking on the slick hardwood floor.
Morgana Montez, Trey’s beautiful producer and his most recent ex, stood in the door way. And behind her lurked the threatening hulk of Gordon Gosich.

The Montezuma Secret available from Amazon.com
Click on the cover at right to purchase.
Also available on Smashwords
FIVE STARS on Amazon and Goodreads
Next Week: Who makes the bestsellers? You and me or the news media?

Welcome Marie Tuhart and Saddle Up!

Thanks for having me Alison.

My current release Quick Silver Ranch: Saddle Up wasn't a book I had planned to write. I'm sure you're all wonder how it happened. Well, I had turned in Quick Silver Ranch, which later turned out to be titled Quick Silver Ranch: Roped & Ready, my editor sent me an email and asked me if I was willing to write the secondary characters book and we could put out the two books as a series keeping Quick Silver Ranch.

I sat at my desk reading the email going back between yes and no, yes and no, but I wasn't going to let opportunity pass me by, I told my editor yes. And two seconds after I sent the email my head hit the desk. What was I thinking? I had no plot, no conflict, no idea of who these characters were or what I was going to do with them.

Luckily for me, my critique partner met me on Sunday for lunch and we brainstormed the book and the following week I started writing it. I had done 15,000 works when I realized, my hero Jared was a very different person than how I was trying to write him. Head hits desk again.

Back to the beginning, but this time, I knew my hero, I just started writing. Six weeks later I had a rough draft, another month after that I had a polished manuscript and I sent it to my editor praying she would like it.

She did and she bought it. So this was the book that I never thought I write, but it was a great experience to write it and learn from writing it. I've learned never to say never to anything, and just when you don't expect opportunity is dropped into your lap.

So have you ever had an opportunity drop into your lap? Did you take advantage of it or not? I want to hear, it can be about anything.


Quick Silver Ranch: Saddle Up

Angie Davidson finds herself at loose ends after
her best friend's wedding and in need of a vacation,
so when sexy yet aloof co-owner of the Quick Silver
Ranch, Jared Turner, insists she stay to explore
their sexual attraction, she agrees. Though she loves
being a submissive in the bedroom, Jared's distant
air after lovemaking brings back bad memories. Can
she show this strong sexy man he has nothing to
fear from her, or will he abandon her like everyone
else in her life has?

Sexy yet aloof Jared, co-owner of the Quick
Silver Ranch is eager to explore Angie's submissive
side with two weeks of toys and other naughty play.
However, the last time he was this attracted to a
woman—mentally and phyiscally—she wasn't able
to put up with his Dominant streak. Can Angie see
that her vacation with him can be the perfect way of
life?

Except:

Angie drank in the feeling of his body against hers. His hardness to her softness, and part of her wanted to melt in a puddle at his feet, another part wanted to be bold and daring.

“Becca mentioned that you're closing down the ranch for a while.” Maybe a little flirting would work.

“Two weeks. There needs to be some renovations done, and the staff needs some downtime. It was a good time to do it with Tyler gone.”

“How much can be done in two weeks?” She thought back to when they were renovating the offices she now worked in, it seemed like it took months and with every little problem the workmen came to her.

“A lot, if you know how to motivate people.”

“Really?” Angie tilted her head up and fluttered her eyelashes. “And how would you do that?”

The corners of Jared's lips tilted up. “Lots of money.”

Okay, subtle flirting wasn't working with him. Her fingers trailed over his broad shoulder, to his neck, where she stroked his dark brown hair. His hand tightened on her lower back, bringing their hips together. And Angie swore she could feel his hard erection. Good, he wasn't immune to her.

She let her fingers skim from his neck, down over his shoulder blade, down his spine, over his well-defined ass, until she could rest her palm over his butt cheek. Then she squeezed it.

“Behave.” His breath brushed her ear and he swatted her ass.

“You hit me.” She couldn't believe it; he actually smacked her on the ass. Not that it hurt, but heat flowed through her body making her nipples grow harder. She’d never realized a little swat could make her so hot.

“I'll do worse if you don't behave yourself, Angie.”

“Promise?” The word was out of her mouth before she even realized it. The music ended, Jared escorted her back to the table and pulled out her chair.

His palms cupped her cheeks, tilting her face up to his. “We'll talk later.” He dropped a hard brief kiss on her lips before striding away.

Angie's heart skipped several beats while she observed Jared cross the room. She put her fingers to her lips and sank down onto the chair with her core pulsing with need and her panties wet. If he met her later, they wouldn't be talking if she had anything to say about it.

You can buy Quick Silver Ranch at any of your favorite e-tailers (Amazon, B&N, Bookstrand, Fictionwise) Or you can buy directly from The Wild Rose Press http://tinyurl.com/6jcwda5

You can find Marie at number of places:

Website: www.marietuhart.com
Facebook: Marie Tuhart – I'm the only one
Twitter: @marietuhart
Blog: www.escapetoaneroticfantasy.blogspot.com
Group blog: www.wildandwickedcowboys.wordpress.com

Thanks, Marie. Hot excerpt and hot cover. Good thing you didn't pass up this opportunity and good luck with these two exciting books!

Next week: Bending the Romantic Template: The Eternal Triangle, a No- No in Romance?

Welcome Amber Leigh Williams & the Importance of Good Research!

I’ve always had a keen interest in how things work and the history or stories behind them. That may be why I spent no less than a year researching my first romance novel, a historical set in the Italian countryside. Though I don’t spend nearly as much time researching my current novels, the research process still fascinates me to such a degree that I have to limit myself or I get carried away. As beautiful as Veneto, Italy is, no one wants to read a two-page description of the panorama. In the first draft of this book, the heroine (daughter of a winemaker) takes the hero on a tour of her family’s winery, explaining every detail of what happens to the grapes once they are harvested. This segment, eventually cut, was ten pages long. Thankfully, I now know how to pick and choose what readers want to know. It never hurts though to know how something works because it might just add a scene or element you didn’t expect to the storyline. Here’s a list of some of my all-time favorite research topics….

Winemaking – This research was for Forever Amore, my historical based in Italy, which was eventually published after several revisions. Before I wrote Forever Amore, I didn’t drink wine. During the research, however, it became inevitable and I eventually grew to love it. There’s so much history in winemaking. I find the organic process – especially that which was utilized in the early twentieth century – fascinating in itself. I watched many videos, printed out many pictures, and read many books that revolved around vineyards and winemaking. My favorite part of the winemaking research (besides the tastings) was the vineyard work. I even made my hero a worker in the heroine’s vineyard to better help him blend with the people around him and avoid capture. A lot of work goes into a vineyard, but there’s something romantic about it. In spring, when the buds begin to burst on the vines and the vines have grown tall enough to conceal the hero and heroine in a sunset stroll, romance was simply inherent!

Italian – While researching Forever Amore and reading books based in Italy, it became pretty clear that some knowledge of the Italian language was necessary. The plot revealed that the heroine would have to teach the hero Italian if he were to journey through the Italian countryside safely in disguise. I enjoyed learning French in school so I took to teaching myself rudimentary Italian. It came pretty easily, all except for distinguishing between the different greetings people use at different parts of the day. I transferred this confusion to the hero, Charles, in one of his first conversations with the heroine, Lucille….
“I already know a bit Italian,” he said in earnest as he followed her from the room that he would share with Roberto indefinitely.

“Really? How do you say ‘good morning’?”

He frowned. “Ciao?”

With a sigh, she descended the stairs ahead of him. “We have far to go.”

Rodeo – I joined the ranks of western romance authors with relish by signing up to write a novella in the Wayback, Texas series for The Wild Rose Press. And I dove into researching cowboys like a fish into water. For those who aren’t familiar with the series, Wayback is a rodeo town. I love cowboys. I love western animals. Research was no chore, especially when I was invited to a local rodeo and got to experience the whole thing firsthand. In other words, I was the eager wannabe cowgirl in pigtails and blue-jean skirt taking diligent notes in the first row. I uncovered those notes the other day and found both the name of the bull the hero of the first book in my Wayback trilogy rides as well as the hero’s first name. Somewhere in the world a bull named Jack the Ripper and a rodeo cowboy named Judd have been immortalized forever :)

Taj Mahal – This research was for my romantic suspense, Denied Origin, in which the hero and heroine are taken on a fast-paced scavenger hunt around the globe to uncover her true identity. One of the locations the scavenger hunt leads them to is India, the town of Agra, and the beautiful Taj Mahal. There is a wealth of fascinating information surrounding this monument both historically and architecturally. It is a shrine, first and foremost, to love and devotion. I needed an element of danger, however, to add to my story so I focused my research on the Taj Mahal’s water system, which during the period the Taj Mahal was built were way of their time. With its canals, fountains, and the river flowing beside it, I created a frightening scene involving water tunnels beneath the Taj Mahal. Despite its scary elements, it’s one of my favorite scenes of the book.

Mythology – Currently, I’m working on research for a paranormal concept that involves a great deal of Greek mythology. I love mythology – it’s my storyteller paradise! At the moment, I’m learning a great deal about the god of war as well as the origins of mermaids of folklore – sirens! Sparta is another key area of research. It’s all too easy to get carried away. However, one of the best parts of research is uncovering new passions or indulging old ones. I’ve always loved Greek mythology and wanted to include it in some aspect of my writing. Now that I’ve found the perfect opportunity, my job just got a lot more fun!

Today I’m including an excerpt from Denied Origin, a romantic suspense available in paperback and ebook from The Wild Rose Press….

He knew all about the Taj Mahal’s tragic history. He knew it wasn’t the only great temple in India, but it was the most cherished, a very fitting tribute to beauty, a shrine of love and devotion. He knew it’d taken over two decades to complete and had been built by a Mughal emperor in honor of his beloved wife who’d died in childbirth.
Mark wondered how love such as that of the Mughal emperor and his Muslim princess could still exist now in a time defined by its greedy and power-hungry society. In a world where terror and fear reigned, Mark found it hard to believe a love like that was still a reality.
He glanced at Valentina and realized he was living that reality. He was full proof of it. He turned away from her, tried to convince himself he had no choice. But even with his mind determinedly set against it, this feeling was digging a home in his core, refusing to be stemmed or ignored.
As the train pulled into the station, Valentina stirred. It was midmorning and the sun was out, bright and full. She squinted out the window at Agra. “Are we getting off?”
Mark nodded as he rose to get their luggage. He threw the duffel over his shoulder before helping her to her feet. He tucked an arm around her shoulders. “Don’t leave my side,” he whispered as they wandered into the station.
He kept his eyes sharp. A sniper could be perched just out of view, a knife could be held just out of sight. His eyes passed over every face, studied them, judged them. He checked over his shoulder many times to make sure no one was following them. “We’ll go straight there.”
“Good,” she muttered. He knew she was also watching the crowd. “The sooner we leave this place the better.”
He didn’t relax, but slowly began to take in the sights as they walked quickly through the city streets. They walked through a large bazaar where the smell of spices was so strong he could almost feel them filtering through his lungs as he breathed deep to admit them. There weren’t many cars. There was the occasional elephant, more than a few horse-drawn carts, and various bicyclists.
All the people were tan with exotic eyes and peasant dress though they had a carefree air, a sense of peace and gratification. They’d been walking for some time when they came to a crowded iron bridge.
“Are we close?” She pressed close to Mark’s side as they squeezed into the traffic on the bridge.
He nodded, his eyes darting every which way, searching for the glare of a weapon. “This is the Yamuna River. The Taj is just across the bridge.”
After wriggling their way through the suffocating crowd, they broke out into the sunlight again. As soon as she saw the monument in the distance, she let out a surprised gasp. “Oh, Mark…”
He couldn’t help but grin at her surprise. “It’s even better up close and personal, huh?”
Her gasp melded fluidly into an awestruck sigh. “Oh, it’s gorgeous—more than I imagined.”
“We have to go through the south entrance,” Mark advised, guiding her onward. “Not much further.”

Find out more about Denied Origin, Forever Amore, and my western romance trilogy at my website: www.amberleighwilliams.com! Thank you for hosting me, Alison! I enjoyed talking about my favorite research topics.

Readers, what people, places or things do you most like learning about through your TBR list?

Thanks, Amber! Great advice and information! Denied Origin sounds like my kind of scavenger hunt and who can resist a title like Forever Amore!

Next week: Marie Tuhart

Welcome Ilona Fridl's Dangerous Times Series!

Now, with the release of Bronze Skies this past July, the Dangerous Times series is complete. I'd like to take a look at all three, which are available online at The Wild Rose Press, Amazon, Barnes & Noble, and many sites that sell ebooks.

The first is Silver Screen Heroes and it takes place in 1920 at a silent movie studio in Hollywood, California. This was my suspense historical. We meet Addy Garcia and Zeke Shafer, who work at Majestic Studio that has been sold to a crime family. Addy gets sucked into the intrigue, because her cousin, Muriel Carter, elopes with the boss' son.

Excerpt:

“I’m happy you could come to the party tonight.”
“Thank you for inviting me.”
He maneuvered a turn toward a quiet hallway.
“I want to talk to you about a problem that’s causing
me a lot of trouble. I think you can help me. Seeing
that I gave you a little leverage to advance at the
studio, maybe you can do something for me.”
Addy felt her face burn. What did he want?
Surely he couldn’t be going to make advances toward
her, too. It would be so awkward, with him being
Muriel’s father-in-law, but she would fight him just
as she had Mr. Abrams and John. “What is it?”
“The master ledger for the studio has been
missing for a while.” He tightened his grip on her. “I
think you know where it is.”

The second, Golden North, takes place in 1921 in Juneau, Alaska Territory in a theater/restaurant called Golden North. Addy and Zeke have married and fled the wrath of the crime family to help Zeke's brother, Josh Shafer, restore and operate an old opera house and bar. Muriel follows her cousin north. She is a widow with a small daughter, whom the crime family wants. This is my murder mystery.

Excerpt:

Muriel’s heart went out to Josh.
He had put his head in his hands and leaned his
elbows on the desk as Muriel told him what
happened at Millie’s, and now he looked the picture
of despair. He slowly raised his head. “Well, that’s it,
isn’t it? Muriel, I’m sorry you had to come into this.
You seem to have traded one problem for another.”
Muriel caressed his shoulders. “I’m sure Sarah
and Amos can find out what really happened. When
they do, the townspeople will come around.”
“We may not be here by that time.” He
straightened and threw his hands up. “I really
wanted to prove to myself that my father was wrong,
that I could make something of my life. Well―” One
hand slammed down on the ledger.
Muriel’s chest tightened. He could be right
about having to leave. She didn’t want to think it,
but her eyes swam with tears. How could he blame
himself, though? He had worked so hard.
Josh looked at her through the mist in his own
eyes. He stood and took her in a gentle embrace,
then pulled back quickly. “I’m―I didn’t mean to―”
Muriel put her fingers on his lips. “Don’t
apologize.” She drew him toward her again, and they
gazed at each other for a moment before she put her
hand on the back of his neck and kissed him.

The third book, Bronze Skies, takes place in the 1940s in Alaska Territory during World War II. This is the war story. Lt. Tom Shafer is the son of Addy and Zeke, who is in the Army Air Corps. We see the conflict through his eyes and the home front through the eyes of his girl, Pam Wright, who lives in Juneau.

Excerpt:

“Will you tell me where Vic Houston is?”
Jake nodded toward an old blue Oldsmobile.
“He’s working under the hood over there.”
“Thanks, Jake.” The smell of gas, grease, and
rubber hit Tom's nose as he made his way to the
Olds. He saw Vic with a wrench, tightening
something in the engine. Tom leaned against the
fender. “Vic, do you have a moment?”
Vic looked surprised, and Tom noticed his
grease-grimed hand clench the wrench tighter.
“What do you want, Shafer?” His voice was rough.
“I didn’t come here to fight you, but before I
leave to go back to base, I have something to say. If I
hear you’ve hurt Pam in any way, I will find you.”
Vic's fingers bunched the dirty cloth that
covered the radiator grill. “I don’t plan to hurt Pam,
but that doesn’t mean I won’t try to date her. And
the big-time flyboy didn’t bring any charges against
me. Are you too chicken?” He spit on the floor by
Tom’s feet.

I want to thank Alison for hosting me today and giving me a chance to celebrate my series. My web site is http://www.ilonafridl.com I'm also on Facebook and Goodreads.

Thanks, Ilona. This sounds like a wonderful series!
Next Week: Amber Leigh Williams

Welcome Amie Louellen & Brodie's Bride!

What You See Is What You Get

I recently read a book that was very different from what I normally read. But I had committed myself to reading it, so I did. And I enjoyed it. I’m glad I read it. When I finished the last few words of story and turned the page, I found a Book Club Guide.

Now, I enjoy a good book as much as the next person, and I love to sit around with my friends and/or family and talk about something we’ve all read. But my goal as an author is to never-ever write a book that needs a guide to help readers and their friends and/or family talk about it. I write what I consider to be mid-length romantic fiction with a great deal of comedic moments. Light-hearted, fun. And you won’t need a reader’s guide to enjoy it. Or “get” it. It is what it is.

Not to say that having a reader’s guide is a bad thing. There are a lot of books that have such subtle issues and changes with the characters that a reader almost *needs* the guide to define what they have read.
Not my goal.

So here’s a peek at Brodie’s Bride. Summer beach read or whatever you want to call it one thing is certain—
What you see is what you get.
Enjoy! Amie
Amie Louellen--Brodie's Bride
Available now from the Wild Rose Press
www.thewildrosepress.com

Amie Louellen loves nothing more than a good book. Except for her family…and maybe homemade tacos…and shoes. But reading and writing are definitely high on the list. When she's not creating quirky characters and happy endings she enjoys going to little league baseball games and boy scout meetings. Born and bred in Mississippi, Amie is a transplanted Southern Belle who now lives in Oklahoma with her deputy husband, their genius son, a spoiled cat, and one very hyper beagle.

Amie Louellen--author FaceBook
www.amielouellen.com
http://amielouellen.wordpress.com/
www.twitter.com/AmieLouellen
email amielouellen@gmail.com

Blurb--Waking up next to a beautiful golden-haired stranger isn’t the worst thing that has ever happened to Brodie Harper, but staying in a fake marriage in order to gain a new construction contract could very well be.

Savanna Morgan just wanted a way out of an engagement to a man she didn’t love. Marrying Brodie seemed liked the perfect answer at the time. Less perfect the next morning when she finds herself disowned by her father and flat broke. Now she must make it through the weekend. Monday they can get it all annulled and forget it ever happened.

The real problem may be keeping their hands off each other until then.

Excerpt—
“On Monday, after our appointment, you’re leaving.”
“I have to go home,” she said quietly, turning away from him to stare into the postage-stamp sized back yard.
“But we have an agreement for the weekend. I think we should have some ground rules.”
“Good idea.” Savanna clapped her hands, then rubbed them together as if she were ready to get down to business. “Like what?”
“We only have two working bedrooms here,” Brodie said. “Mine and Nan’s. Do you mind sharing a room with me?”
Her pupils dilated, and he knew she was thinking about the scarlet room they had shared last night.
“My room has two beds,” he continued. “We can be like Lucy and Ricky.”
She smiled. “If it was good enough for the Ricardos, I’m sure I can handle it for a few days.”
“We may not so lucky at the Sullivan’s.”
Sobering, she nodded. “If there’s only one bed there, we can just take turns sleeping in it.”
“Fair enough.” Brodie said. “Now, as a married couple—especially at the ranch—we’ll be expected to act like a married couple.”
“Okay. But only around others. When we’re alone, we can act like we’re not married.”
“Correct. But sometimes…” He took a step closer to where she leaned against the porch railing. “Sometimes married people hold hands.”
He reached out and took her fingers into his own. Her skin was velvet soft and smelled so sweet, like the mountains after a rain.
“I—I don’t have a problem with that.”
“Sometimes married couples put their arms around each other.” He placed her hands behind his neck, then slid his arms around her waist.
“That’s okay,” she whispered. He watched as she swallowed hard.
“And sometimes married people kiss. Just a peck here and a peck there. Are you going to have a problem with that?”
“Huh-uh.” She shook her head.
“Maybe we should practice,” he rasped, bending his head close to hers.
“Maybe,” she repeated before he brushed his lips across hers once, then twice.
His intent had been the small, nearly chaste kiss of old married couple, but once he got close to Savanna, once he could smell her sweetness and taste her heady essence, he couldn’t stop himself.
He pulled her close to him, gathering handfuls of her tank top, securing her to him. Over and over he slanted his mouth across hers. Over and over, deeper and deeper, until her whimper brought him back.
He released her, his breath rasping in and out of his lungs in hard painful gasps.
She grasped the edge of the porch railing, looking as disturbed as he felt.
With demonstrations like that, they may not ever convince Blair and Nan their marriage was an accidental twist of fate, but they would surely convince Red Sullivan their passion was for real.
Brodie ran his fingers through his hair, just one more gesture to keep from reaching for Savanna again.
“There,” he managed to croak. “That wasn’t so bad, now was it?”

Thanks, Amie, great read and I couldn't agree with you more about Book Club Guides! Just finished reading a bunch of old Sandra Brown books. "Slow Heat in Heaven," "Mirror Image," "Best Kept Secrets." Boy, you sure don't need a Book Guide for those! Whew! Steamy and great! Best of luck with "Brodie's Bride!"
Next week: Ilona Fridl

Are Independent Bookstores Dead--Not Yet!

An interesting article appeared in yesterday's Milwaukee Journal, explaining how a few independent bookstores are surviving in today's digital age. The local stores profiled say their principal concern is no longer the huge brick and mortar stores--of which Barnes and Noble is the only one left standing--but the Internet. It's so much easier to go online to buy something and have it instantly downloaded. Case in point, yesterday I went to Barnes and Noble to check out the new releases and the bargain books. I always enjoy Holocaust literature and found a new hardcover called "The Warsaw Anagrams." It was priced at $25.95. I made a note to check out the e-book price when I got home. I went on www.kobobooks.com (I have a Libre e-reader, which is compatible with Kobo rather than Kindle) and found the e-book priced at only $2.79. I bought it and downloaded it in a few seconds. Amazing savings!

Independent booksellers in the Milwaukee and surrounding area (most are in the suburbs) say they survive by holding book club meetings, having book signings with best selling authors and offering discounted books to students. They depend on local community support and loyalty. They have also added cards and other non-book items to their inventory. Stuffed animals sit next to the children's books. Some even sell e-books on their websites.

Another interesting note. The only brick and mortar store that has expanded in recent years is Half Price Books, one of my favorites, since you can also find so many out of print books there as well as on Amazon. My problem with Barnes and Noble (besides the high prices) is the fact that they only stock current stuff and few items from indie publishers.

Even those bookstores that are thriving say they could make more money doing something else and cite concerns about the future.

For the complete article visit:
http://www.jsonline.com/business/127152613.html

Next Week: Amie Louellen

Welcome Vonnie Davis and Storm's Interlude!

Sandra, many thanks for having me here today. Since the release of my debut novel, Storm’s Interlude, I’ve morphed from a fulltime writer into a blogging and promotional fool with little, if any, time for writing. Thank you for making me one more degree the fool.

Frankly it would be easier for me to fly a propeller airplane with a banner trailing from the back like you see at the seashore. “Eat at Joe’s…dial 1-800- TOMAINE” Only mine would say, “Beach read hot enough to melt sunscreen!”

Silly me, I thought all I had to do was write a book, find an agent and get published. My books would be in bookstores everywhere, and the publisher would promote me.

So, here I am blogging, posting on facebook, tweeting and keeping my fingers crossed that someone will buy my book.

I read somewhere that the best way to sell books is to write a good story. Now, we’re talking! Don’t we all love a romance? One populated with people who charm us, shock us and, at times, irritate us. A couple who fuss and fight on their way to happily-ever-after. Don’t you just love a good lovers’ spat? Followed by some mighty fine making up, of course.

Here’s an excerpt from Storm’s Interlude. Rachel is in a major snit after seeing Storm talking to his ex-fiancée. Not that she’s the jealous type, but she saw Storm tuck the lady’s hair behind her ear and stroke his knuckles down the side of her face. Once they get home, the fireworks escalate.

When Storm pulled in front of the ranch house, Rachel was the first one to barrel out of the SUV. Before she’d made it a dozen steps, Storm grabbed her and threw her over his shoulder like a bag of grain. “Put me down, you lunatic!”
“Like hell.” He stormed into the house, his boots echoing off the hardwood floors of the large foyer. “We’re going to have this out right now. I’m tired of your peeling my hide with your accusations.”
Jackson rushed out of the den into the large hallway. “Storm? What the hell?”
Storm had one hand on the doorknob to his office. “You got all the security measures in place? Anything that demands my immediate attention?”
“Put me down this instant, you…you caveman cowboy!” He smacked her bottom. She yelped. Once he put her down, she was going to tear him apart, limb by cheating limb.
Jackson had a hand over his mouth to hide his laughter. “Have at it, buddy. I’ve done my job.” He took a sleeping Sawyer from Noella. “Sunny and I will put tiger here to bed.”
Storm opened the door to his office, waiting until the couple had the sleeping boy upstairs before he yelled his announcement so the entire first floor could hear: “Anyone who knocks on this door before Rachel and I have worked things out takes their life in their hands. Is that clear?” He slammed the door shut behind them and turned the lock before setting Rachel down on the floor.
She was so incensed, so humiliated, so livid she couldn’t speak. She kicked him in the shin with her sneakered foot. Storm winced before stalking over to the liquor cabinet.
He poured himself two fingers of whiskey, neat, and downed it. He poured another and downed it, too. He hung his head, his hands fisted on the cabinet. “You can make me so damned mad I can’t see straight. No one has ever pushed me over the edge the way you do.”
She fisted her hands on her hips, hiked her chin and glared at him. “Yeah, well, I’d like to slap you into next week, you lying, cheating, poor excuse of a man. You told me things. You told me you loved me. I surrendered to you. I had sex with you.”
“Would you just listen to me for five damn minutes?” He turned to face her and ran both hands through his hair, a sign of frustration.
She folded her arms under her chest. “Okay, but this better be good.”

Buy Links for Storm’s Interlude:

http://amzn.to/pkkcLq -- Amazon.
http://bit.ly/pb9DQd -- B & N. – Nook only
http://bit.ly/rcCIMa -- The Wild Rose Press

Thanks, Vonnie for the hot, hot, cowboy story and thanks for being such a great guest!
Next Week: Gloria Marlow

Welcome 1st Place Prism Contest Winner Kathy Lane!

Those Hunky Heros
Aaah, the Hero. (With a capital H, of course.) Where would a good romance novel be without it’s hunky protagonist? Whether he swoops, swaggers, stomps, or strides into the Heroine’s life, he’s an essential part of every standard romance. We simply can’t do without him.
Heros thrill us with their confident, alpha attitudes. They’re protective and possessive, and we wouldn’t have them any other way. Even a strong, take-charge heroine needs a man who can stand up to her. Sherrilyn Kenyon’s Shahara Dagan in Born of Fire, is a the best bounty hunter in the universe. Stands to reason the man who steals her heart is the most notorious thief alive. And what about Alexis Morgan’s Lusahn q’Arc in Redeemed in Darkness? She can swing a sword better than most warriors in her homeland. No surprise that the powerful Paladin and swordsman extraordinaire, Cullen Finley, is the one to slip past her guard. (Doesn’t hurt one bit that she thinks he looks magnificent with his shirt off.)
Let’s face it, nothing suggests romance like a sexy, half-naked man on the cover of a book. Be he a doctor, lawyer, Indian chief…oh, wait, that’s another list. Actually, the most recent list I’ve seen of popular Hero professions does include doctors, but sadly, no lawyers or Indian chiefs. Cowboys and ranchers made the list. So did bosses. (Definitely not my favorite.) Surgeons, too, though I rather thought they should be lumped in with doctors. Kings and princes (as in Prince Devlin in my first Bloodsworn book), and sheriffs, knights, and, what do you know, bodyguards.

Bracca Cu-Laurian, the Hero of Bloodsworn II: Linked by Blood, is a kind of bodyguard/knight. He’s a Blade, a sword-wielding warrior whose duty it is to protect his Bloodsworn, Lady Avera St. John. Which means he has no time to fall in love. Of course, that doesn’t keep him from feeling desire when he meets Sheren Ni-Annun. Sheren is a young widowed mother who, at first, wants nothing to do with Bracca because, well, for her, he’s in the wrong profession. Her late husband was a Blade, and she’s determined her next husband will lead a safer life. Funny how love doesn’t take a woman’s determination and a man’s devotion to duty into account.
Check out Bloodsworn II: Linked by Blood, and find out how fate and a five-year-old boy bring our Hero and Heroine together. You can purchase Linked by Blood at www.thewildrosepress.com or from Amazon or Barnes and Noble.

www.kyrlane.com
http://www.kyrlane.blogspot.com
Live, Laugh, Love, and Read Lots of Romance ;)

Available now from www.thewildrosepress.com & www.digibookscafe.com
Bloodsworn: Bound By Magic - 2011 PRISM 1st Place in Fantasy and BEST FIRST BOOK!!!
And don't forget to check out Bloodsworn II: Linked By Blood now available!!

Thanks, Kathy and Congrats one more time!
Next Week: Lyndi Alexander

Welcome Sharon Noble! Comment for a Chance to Win Velvet & Topaz

Thanks, Alison, for allowing me to ramble about my books, my life, and my small pleasures. I’m a new author with only three published romances, but I’ve been a voracious reader of romance novels since the days before they existed. As a prepubescent, I read Edison Marshall and Frank Yerby back in the old days and fell in love with the romance genre, even though, strictly speaking, these gentlemen wrote romance/adventure novels.

I never thought about writing. I thought that, in order to write, you had to be a writer. I know, garbled thinking, right? So I moved to Canada with my Canadian husband and became an actor. Flushed with success and making a living as an actor, I continued for another bunch of years, finally moving back to the U.S. and settling in L.A. Unfortunately, enough years had passed so that I’m now an o-l-d actor, and we know what happens to female actors as they get older. Except for Meryl Streep, of course.

Then I discovered Kathleen Woodiwiss, and I was in romance heaven. After reading and absorbing for another bunch of years, I broke the ice with Autumn Desire, a contemporary romance published by The Wild Rose Press. My mother went back to college at age 50 and had a great four-year adventure, so I thought that might be a stepping off point for a romance novel.

I wish I had the discipline and skill to plan my books and write an outline, but I’m a complete failure. I guess I’m either lazy or just inept, but I wait until I hear the first line in my head, then I just follow where that leads. The result is that it takes forever to get started. I think that’s called seat-of-the-pants writing, and I don’t recommend it as a writing technique. I frequently find I’ve written myself into a corner with nowhere to go. That’s the point at which I invite my son out to brunch and ask for help. He’s cleverer than I am, and he usually offers at least three solutions to my problem.

My Autumn Desire heroine, after being widowed suddenly, decided to go back to college at the university where her husband had been a respected chemistry professor. There she met his detested rival, and (of course) sparks flew – hers in anger, his in attraction. You know where this went, of course.

Passion’s Design took my heroine to South America where she was to design an elaborate wedding for two aristocratic families, but (silly girl) she fell in love with the groom – who just happened to hold all things American in contempt. You know where this went.

Velvet and Topaz was the result of a trip to England to indulge my love of all things Tudor, so my heroine followed in my footsteps, but she actually indulged in carnal relations (yep!) with one of the courtiers who reenact the history of the castles. Bad move. But you know where this went.

Velvet and Topaz is the giveaway today. It’s an ebook, so no fuss, no bother to send it along to one of you.

So while I wait for that first elusive first line, what do I do? I read romance novels, of course.
Thanks, Sharon!
Next week: Kathy Lane

Welcome Sue Fineman and Happy Fourth!

I fell in love with a pretty blue convertible.

The fireworks show had ended, but traffic over the bridge toward home had come to a full stop. So my friend and I turned in the other direction, toward the beach.

I saw the pretty blue convertible parked at the drive-in restaurant. Two men sat in the car, but I didn’t pay much attention to them. At that point, I wasn’t interested in men. My last boyfriend had been arrested for selling something that didn’t belong to him, and I refused to have anything to do with him again. I wouldn’t even take his phone calls.

I worked as a secretary at Patrick Air Force Base, and there were plenty of Air Force guys around, but they didn’t make much money in those days, so the guys were usually broke. Some of the men who worked in the same office building hit on me, but most of them were married, and I absolutely refused to date a married man. An old boyfriend proposed and I turned him down. He was a sweet guy, but I didn’t love him, and his family made me uncomfortable. The engineers who worked downrange were so love-starved, it was like dating an octopus, and I wasn’t that kind of girl. I was so discouraged, I’d just about given up on men altogether that Fourth of July when I saw the pretty blue convertible.

These guys in the blue convertible were looking pretty good, so I pulled in beside them and my friend and I ordered something to drink. My friend complained about the song blaring from the jukebox, and one of the guys in the blue convertible walked up and selected another song. Baby Elephant Walk. It was quite popular that year.

The two guys in the blue car struck up a conversation. They slid into the backseat of my Corvair and we talked for over an hour. They said they were in the Navy, stationed at Patrick Air Force Base, and they served on the Polaris submarines.

The guy who drove the car invited me to go to the movies with him the next evening, and I accepted. He seemed really nice, and I figured anyone who owned a car like had to have something going for him. He was good looking and had the sexiest brown eyes.

Two weeks later he sold the car, but by then I was already smitten. We only dated three and a half weeks when he proposed. I said yes, then had second thoughts. He was Jewish and except for one boy in my high school class and some merchants in Miami Beach, I’d never known anyone who was Jewish.

I went to the library and tried to find books on the Jewish religion and traditions, but this was Central Florida. In the early 60’s. The schools were still segregated. I couldn’t find any books to tell me what I’d be getting myself into if I married a Jewish guy. No surprise there. If you weren’t a white Christian, you didn’t fit in.

I didn’t know if his family would accept me. Would they expect me to raise our children Jewish? I had no idea. He said it didn’t matter, he loved me and wanted to marry me, and I could raise our kids however I wanted. So we set the date.

We only knew each other six months when we married in January, 1963.

If I hadn’t pulled into the drive-in, we wouldn’t have met. And if he hadn’t been driving that pretty blue convertible, I probably wouldn’t have paid much attention. Now, instead of driving a pretty blue convertible, he drives me crazy. But after 48 years, we’re still married. I don’t know what I’d do without him.

That’s my Fourth of July story. What’s yours?

Sue Fineman lives in Central Washington State with her husband of 48 years. They have three grown children, one adorable grandson, two cute little doggies, and multiple grandkittens and grandpuppies.

Sue has written over two dozen books. The Gregory Series: ON THE RUN, ON THE LAM, and ON THE EDGE, are available exclusively at Amazon and Barnes & Noble. THE MITCHELL MONEY is available through The Wild Rose Press, DigiBooks Cafe, Amazon, and Barnes & Noble.

Win a free Kindle at DigiBooks Café. You can find the link and a clue to the puzzle for the contest on my blog at http://suefineman.blogspot.com/
Thanks, Sue, great post!
Next week my guest is Sharon Noble

Welcome Calvin Davis & the Mysterious Phantom Lady!

Welcome Calvin Davis and his mysterious Phantom Lady! So nice to have you as my second blog guest and my first male romance writer guest! It's a pleasure and yes, Calvin, I will be gentle!

Thank you for having me on your blog, Alison. This is a first for me—being a guest and stepping into the dynamic blogging world of romance writers. Even though I live with a romance writer, this is a new milieu for me. You will be gentle, won’t you?

We all know story ideas come from countless sources: a dream, a newspaper article, a snippet of an overheard conversation, thoughts on the human condition and so on. For me, the idea for The Phantom Lady of Paris stemmed from a theft.

I was living in Paris at the time. I’d gone there in 1968 on sabbatical to write and study French culture. What better place to do that than Left Bank cafés? I rented a studio apartment at 21 rue Galande in the 5th arrondissement (Paris is divided into neighborhoods or wards called arrondissements). I was living in the heart of the Latin Quarter, so named because centuries ago students at the Sorbonne spoke only Latin as they conversed and argued philosophies on the streets of this neighborhood.

Soon I settled into a daily routine. I’d shower, dress, snatch a few notebooks and pencils from the desk, bolt down the three flights of steps, dash up the street to the boulangerie (bakery) and buy a few croissants and then step across the street to the cremerie (dairy) for some yogurt. Purchases in hand, I’d stop in the foyer of my building to retrieve my newspaper from the mailbox. Then I’d meander the streets until I came to my favorite writing café, settle at a table, sip an espresso, read the paper and then write for several hours.

I must interject a description, at this point, of mailboxes in French buildings during this era. Mailboxes were one large, open wooden box attached to a wall in the entry foyer. There the postal person would dump the mail for all the residents of the building. Each tenant would sift through the contents, hunting for mail addressed to him or her. Outside of a weekly letter from my mother, my copy of the English Herald Tribune was my only daily mail—and I looked forward to it. My subscription was my lifeline to the English speaking world while I sat immersed in French culture. One morning, it was gone. The address band that encircled it was there, but not my paper. I was livid. Who would steal a man’s newspaper?

Once my temper cooled and my writer’s imagination heated up, I thought “hey, there might be a story in this…a teacher on sabbatical, much like me, has his newspaper stolen…and the thief has the audacity to leave a note on the bulletin board above the mailbox…yeah, a note…and the teacher leaves a reply…and then the thief leaves another note…and…” Well, all you lovely ladies know how one’s imagination takes flight on the breeze of “what-if’s.” So, thanks to a theft, the Phantom Lady was born.

Here’s an excerpt from The Phantom Lady of Paris where Paul, my hero, finds the first note from the phantom lady.

On this particular morning with a liter of milk, a croissant, and a cup of yogurt in hand, I hurried into the foyer of Twenty-One rue Galande. I glanced into the mailbox, and, to my dismay, my Herald Tribune was missing. Had the mail carrier made his rounds? He always did, religiously and on time, regardless of the weather. Besides, mail for other tenants was in the box. So why wasn’t mine?
I rummaged through the huge mound of letters, finally fishing from it an address band with the Herald’s logo on it, beneath which was my name, address, and that day’s date. I didn’t need to be a forensic scientist to realize that some midget-minded SOB had stolen my newspaper, and, to add insult to injury, brazenly left the address band in the mailbox. Of all the rotten, dirty…
With the discarded mailing band in hand, I glanced at the bulletin board that was just above the mailbox. On it was a note addressed to me, scrawled on a piece of torn notebook paper. A hastily scribbled peace sign adorned the top.
Dear Mr. Paul Lasser,
I borrowed your newspaper. I would say, Thank you, but as nice as I know you are, I don’t have to thank you. Do I? Of course not, darling. So, why bother?
And oh yes, do have a good day! I’m sure I’ll have one. Reading the morning paper always makes my day—as I’m sure it makes yours. For your information: the weatherman predicts mild temperatures, sunny, cloudless skies. Should be a gasser. So, enjoy. Peace and love.
Signed, your neighbor and fellow-newspaper-lover,
The Phantom Lady of Paris.

A suspense-filled love story, The Phantom Lady of Paris tells of American Paul Lasser and his sojourn to the City of Light, where he meets the mysterious Phantom Lady, Bonnie Silver, a woman who is more question marks than periods.

Why is she in Paris and why do the French police investigate her and her “persons of interest” friends? One friend, a flower child, overdoses on drugs. Another morphs into a terrorist, bombing cafés. Is a Communist agitator an associate of Bonnie’s?

Slowly Paul unearths answers, and even as they quench his desire to understand, they will forever haunt him.

Thanks you again for having me. You’ve been a most gracious host, Alison.

You may buy my novel from the publisher, Second Wind, http://www.secondwindpublishing.com/index.html

Or from Amazon.com http://www.amazon.com/s/ref=nb_sb_ss_i_0_25?url=search-alias%3Dstripbooks&field-keywords=the+phantom+lady+of+paris&sprefix=the+phantom+lady+of+paris

http://www.calscosmos.blogpsot.com

http://www.calvindavisbooks.com

Thanks, Calvin...this sounds like a truly intriguing 'what if?'
Next week my guest is Sue Fineman.

Welcome AJ Nuest as my First Blog Guest!

As a current Wisconsinite, I am happy to welcome as my first guest former Wisconsinite, romance author AJ Nuest, discussing her fond memories of life in our state and the unique accent we Midwesterners have. She also shares an excerpt from "Jezebel's Wish," her latest book available from The Wild Rose Press. And one lucky commenter will receive a free .pdf of "Jezebel's Wish," so please enter for a chance to win!

Wisconsin, doin cha’ kno?
“Where, exactly, are you from?”
This question has plagued me more than any other throughout my life. Born and raised in the unspoiled wilderness of Northern Wisconsin, I grew up blissfully unaware of my northern twang, until I graduated from high school and moved to the center of the universe (aka Milwaukee, WI) to attend college.
But even then, my accent was most often met with mild curiosity. My assumption is most folks either didn’t hear it because they carried the same inflection themselves, or they ignored the way I sounded altogether, instinctively knowing I must be from the Great White North. Still, I got the occasional query, people asking if I hailed from Canada or Minnesota, how come I said words like door (dowr) and out (ouit) so strangely and wasn’t I cute with my quaint country lingo.
In all honesty, I hated the way I sounded. Living away from home for ten years, my ear became attuned to the way others spoke, and when I returned for a visit I was horrified to learn the true nature of my voice. Did I really sound the same as all those backwoods hicks? Did I carry that same disturbing lilt which immediately made the listener doubt my intelligence? Why couldn’t I have been born with an accent like Audrey Hepburn? Maybe I could take lessons and learn to speak like Grace Kelly? For crying out loud, how had I made any friends?
Aside: If you’ve ever seen the movie Fargo, you know exactly what I’m talking about (aboot). Although Frances McDormand portrays a quick-witted, highly intuitive police officer, when you first heard her speak, didn’t you instantly think, “Boy, she’s a couple of watts short of a bulb.” I mean, come on! Who actually says, “Is there a phone down here, do ya’ think?” People from northern Wisconsin, that’s who! Ms. McDormand nailed that accent like she’d been reared a stone’s throw away from my childhood home.
Ten years after my move to Milwaukee, I made an even larger step and moved to Chicago. With nothing more than a job interview and two hundred dollars in my pocket, this country girl was making good on her dream to live in the big city. This is when the questions began in earnest. I literally couldn’t meet someone without them asking where I was from. Being a single, young woman looking for love, I can’t tell you how annoying this was.
I tried to rid myself of the northern drawl. I thought the longer I lived away from home, the more it would fade, right? RIGHT!? No such luck. Twenty-five years later, I still carry the same silly sound.
The other night my family sat down to watch America’s Got Talent. As luck would have it, the auditions took place in Minnesota. So I wasn’t surprised when several of the contestants arrived on stage and answered the judges’ questions with the standard, “Oh, yah” we northerners like to use.
One gentleman in particular carried a very heavy accent, and when he came out in his goggles and bike helmet, everyone in my family laughed. Heck, everyone in the auditorium laughed. The guy had to be a complete doorknob. But, not so..not so, at all. Turns out he performed a special “chain reaction” talent by arranging popsicle sticks so they snapped into the air, and when he received three YES votes from the judges, I smiled and heartily applauded.
You see, now that I’m older I’ve realized something. My accent didn’t stop me from meeting the perfect guy, having two beautiful children or becoming a published author. If anything, the way I speak helps me stand out in an area where people say “warsh” for “wash” and “pin” for “pen”. I know sometimes I sound silly and people may assume I’ve got an empty noggin, but that’s okay with me. The way I speak is a part of who I am.
Now I carry my northern twang proudly, and hope that it never fades. So, go ahead and ask me where I’m from. I’ll smile proudly and answer, “Wisconsin, doin cha’ kno?”

Haunted by nightmares, tormented by guilt, Jezebel came to Redemption Ranch to escape the past—except now she's stuck in the middle of nowhere with no redemption in sight. When her mother pushes her into riding lessons with local veterinarian Matthias Saunders, Jezebel balks. Sure, the doctor is gorgeous, but he’s completely obnoxious and knows how to push every one of her buttons.

Only her deep connection with The Reverend, a gentle stallion who guards her darkest secrets, has her agreeing to spend any more time with Dr. Saunders. Caring for the stallion is the first bright spot in her life in months, and if being around the horse means she has to deal with Matthias Saunders, then so be it. Surely a city girl like her can handle one country vet—even one with disturbing blue eyes. Can't she?

Jezebel’s Wish Excerpt:
Jezzy stopped. “I thought I was having a riding lesson.”
“You are.” He nodded toward the empty paddock. “Go in.”
“Go in?” Jezzy propped a hand on her hip. “You sure you know what you’re doing? Because it was my understanding that an actual horse is needed for a riding lesson.”
“Don’t you think it would be wise at this juncture to leave the understanding up to the professionals?”
Jezzy rolled her eyes. “You’re making this way too easy. Professionals? Please. Don’t get me started.”
“Why not? Getting you started is exactly what I’m here for.”
Jezzy’s jaw dropped. She didn’t quite know how to interpret that remark.
He held out the rope. “Now go in. And take this lead line with you.” Steely blue determination glinted in his eyes. There was no way he was going to give in.
Jezzy snatched the lead line from his hand and stormed through the gate, then turned when he closed it behind her.
He put a foot on the bottom railing and rested against the gate, facing the horizon. “Take the chair to the center of the paddock and sit down.”
“And just exactly how is that supposed to teach me to ride?”
He cocked an eyebrow. “You want out of the deal?”
Jezzy’s fist clenched tight around the lead line. What she wanted was to march back to the fence and smack his face.

AJ Nuest lives in northwest Indiana with her loving husband and two beautiful children. She is the author of two contemporary romance novels.
Visit her on the web at:
http://ajbooks.blogspot.com
http://www.twitter.com/ajnuest
Email: ajnuest@yahoo.com
Facebook: Tattered Pages http://tinyurl.com/3qvxyn6

Jezebel’s Wish Buy Links:
The Wild Rose Press: http://tinyurl.com/446f7r3
Amazon.com: http://tinyurl.com/3b89ogb
Check out the trailer:

Coming June 27: Guest Blogger Calvin Davis discusses "The Phantom Lady of Paris!"