Saturday, 18 May 2013
Wednesday, 15 May 2013
AUTHOR Bio and Links:
Monday, 13 May 2013
Absolutely! I have all sorts of goals: how many words I’ll write (1,000,000—this might be a bit high, but I live by the old, “Aim for the moon and even if you miss, you’re still among the stars” saying), publish four books, become more involved with my readers, learn to play an instrument (the accordion—seriously). There are many, many more. I think goals are extremely important.
Dreaming it up. This happens for me in some of the weirdest places: taking a shower, driving in the car, trying to fall asleep, eating dinner, staring out the window, doing research for something entirely unrelated. Anywhere. Some days I really struggle to get words on paper and I find that it comes easier to me when I walk the floor or do something total unrelated. Then it seems fun and I can get back on with my words.
That first round of edits. This is generally my most extensive round of edits where I make the most changes based on my running list and making notes of things that I need to change later to make sure it all adds up and works out. The rounds that follow are generally more fun because my husband, crit partners, editors, friends so roughly about ten other people read over it and while they look for typos, their other comments are often humorous so it doesn’t seem nearly as bad as that first round.
I have a two-room 500+ square foot office in the upstairs of my house. It’s the only thing that’s upstairs. On the landing, where the “bonus room” is, I have a huge window-nook where I do some of my best writing. But when the kids get noisy, there’s a little room I can sneak off into and close the door.
She’s not “new” by any means, as she’s been writing longer than I have, but she’s “new-to-me”. Her name is Lauren Royal. Strangely enough, it was a reader of mine who pointed me in her direction and I have to say, I am now addicted to her books!
Beware a Scot’s Revenge by Sabrina Jeffries and Duchess by Night by Eloisa James.
My official first car came in 2001 when I was sixteen, but it wasn’t really mine it was on loan from my parents. It was a 1990 Toyota 4-Runner with more than 265,000 miles on it. It was four-wheel drive, white, my dad’s “baby” and we called it “The Stud” due to its ability to dive over anything and pull anything out of a ditch. It couldn’t go fast—getting it up to 65 mph took about three minutes, but it had some brute strength. The first car I ever bought came four years later, when I shed a tear and had to trade in The Stud (now with more than 325,00 miles on the odometer) for a 2004 Pontiac Vibe with 64,000 miles. Our loan for this car (even after trading in The Stud) was more than $14,500. Imagine my surprise when I went to get it insured the next day to find out it was only worth, $11,000! (And yes, we still have this car. We have to get our money’s worth, you know.)
Saturday, 11 May 2013
Morgane has problems with men. Being a werewolf, and wary of humans, it’s inevitable. But when she meets the intense and enigmatic Aelric, she falls hard. She’s never experienced feelings like this before: desperate for his touch, crazy for the feeling of his skin on hers, and ready to surrender to him heart and soul.
Aelric has never had a problem with women; he’s a master of seduction. So when his alpha orders him to seduce Morgane for information about her clan, he accepts. He’s entranced by her supple curves and soft lips, but for once, he wants more than just her body. He wants her for his mate. But he can’t reveal his true identity, or his intentions. For he’s part of a rival clan of werewolves intent on the domination of Morgane’s pack. And dark forces are gathering that might destroy their fiery relationship…
He wanted to tell her, wanted her to know who he was. She would be the one person in the world from whom he didn’t need to keep secrets. But would she still be with him once she knew? He smoothed her hair, inhaling the sweet scent of lavender, and even more, the feel of her soft curves pressed against him. God, she was crying, and all he could think about was being inside her again, holding her close against him.
She must have sensed it, because her sobs eased and she stroked her palm against his thigh, the touch clearly sensual, sexual, and inviting. He tilted her chin to him and opened her lips with his thumb, following with his tongue, his lips claiming her. He fed from her, tasting the sweetness of her mouth. Her hand tightened on his thigh, and he shifted, his jeans suddenly too tight, his erection evident.
The car pulled to a halt in front of her building. He dismissed his driver, and they took the marble stairs hurriedly up to her apartment.
He was pulling at her dress as soon as they entered the door. “Morgane,” he murmured. “You undo me.”
She shook her head as he tugged urgently at her clothes and led him to the bedroom. He undressed her without delay, revealing her lush body to his eyes. He marveled that she was so open, so willing to let him see her in all her complexity. The rain fell in great, wet splashes on the window ledges, providing soft music as he pulled her close.
“Aelric.” She held him back slightly. “I need to tell you…”
He took her hand in his, held it up to mouth. “No need to tell me anything right now.” He knew what she wanted to say, could see it in her eyes. But he didn’t want to spoil this time with her. The day would come soon enough when he would have to expose his own secret.
He put his lips to her neck, inhaling her perfume, the notes of bergamot and woman intoxicating him, drugging him. He was hard. He wanted to bury himself in her soft ivory skin, to hear her berry lips moan at his touch. He ground her against him, bit at her neck, as if her skin was sumptuous chocolate.
She took his face between her hands, pulled his lips to her own. She was hungry, insistent, and he responded, matching her ferocity with his. He acted the animal, biting, licking, devouring her groans as she pressed against him.
He lifted her so that her legs encircled him and pushed her back against the bedroom wall.
His legs tensed beneath her, holding her steady.
“Yes,” he answered, his breath short, his mouth on hers, his hands below her, cupping the soft flesh of her ass. She grasped at his shoulders, pulling at him. He tugged off his jeans and boxers; he needed to be inside her. Now.
She's an avowed chocoholic, loves travel and good tea, and finds her inner peace by meditating and writing.
Thursday, 9 May 2013
I am BEYOND excited to welcome a fantastic romance author and one of my favorite ladies in the world, Teri Wilson to my site today. I met Teri online several years ago and we have become firm online friends through our shared interests in writing, reading, knitting, DOGS and traveling. I am thrilled to have you here, my dear, dear Texan friend!!
Let's get started...
Tuesday, 7 May 2013
The angel literature has never been richer or more diverse. First hand reports of angelic interventions seem to be growing on the internet. Books about angels abound, with over 80,000 titles on Amazon, alone. Could we all be kidding ourselves? Or are we more open to the idea of these messengers and their mission? Personally, I'm keeping an open mind. If I'm in a life or death situation or in a battle between good and evil, here's what I'm going to say what the Australian band Real Life sang, send me an angel. Send me a deputy angel, right now.
Stymied by the US and Mexican legal systems, Angie is forced to ask the head of a Mexican crime syndicate for help. Much to her chagrin, she must work with Alejandro Torres, a dangerously attractive criminal and the drug lord's right-hand man. Little does she know Alejandro is an undercover federal agent, equally terrified of blowing his cover—and falling in love with her.
Saturday, 4 May 2013