Lucy Monroe's Blog, page 76

Timelines and Timewarps

THE READER by Fragonard (1732-1806)I was reading a review of one of my books the other day and the reviewer mentioned that the shortness of the timeline in the story bothered her. She had a point, in the first half of the book, there was a lot of story condensed in a very short number of days, but at the time I couldn't see a way to make it different.  I'm not sure even now that I'd be able to, but I acknowledge the speed with which things happen in the crucible of a romance novel can make the reader (even this reader) stop and think.

This whole concept got me thinking about the dichotomy between author time, book time and reader time.  Think about this: an author takes several weeks to months to write a single title.  In those months, she may cover only a few days or weeks in the life of her characters and then when the reader picks up the story, she may spend mere hours devouring it.  Of course my story didn't feel rushed to me...I'd spent months writing it, but it felt rushed to the reviewer because not only had the actual events spanned only a couple of weeks overall, but she'd only spent a few hours reading it from start to finish.

She'd been in the pressure of the crucible and found it wanting.  If we're honest, we've probably all read books where this kind of timewarp has sent our brains reeling a bit.  Readers who take a week or more to finish a book may not experience the same sense of whiplash, but the truth is - no reader is going to spend as much time with a book as the author does.

Which was one of the early lessons in my craft for me - and one I needed the reminder of this review to pay heed to.  When crafting our stories, we all must make sure the author sense of time does not make the reader's sense of time too jarring.  It doesn't matter if I spend an entire year writing a book, I need to be aware that my reader is going to give it hours, or at most - days.

It's your turn:  can you remember the shortest (in character time) romance novel you read, or the longest?  What struck the most about the story and did it end up on your keeper shelf?

I will admit to avoiding saga length stories like the plague.  Seriously...if I discover a story is going to cover several years, much less decades, I have no interest in reading it.  Which may well be why the crucible of my stories are often comprised of fewer calendar days for my characters. :)  We write what we love to read. :)

Unclaimed Blog Prizes - Last Call!

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Thanks everyone for participating in August's Book-A-Day Giveaway! There are a few of you who haven't emailed me yet with your name and address so I can get your prize in the mail.
wolfwattitudekrisgils33kdr108MaureenP.K. DawningBooklover1335RachelSherry

It is not too late! Email me by Saturday 9/17 and you can still claim your prize!

Weekly Prize Winner!

Who's ready to for some reading? This week's blog prize winner is.....
marybelle
Congratulation! Please email me your name and address and I will get your prize in the mail! Happy reading!

Guest Blog - Kate Davies

Taking a Chance – On Coincidence!by Kate Davies
My newest ebook, Take A Chance On Me, is going to be released in print in January, and recently I had the opportunity to re-read it for galley edits. Going over the galley is the final opportunity to check for errors and typos before the book goes to print. And once again, reading over the manuscript, I was struck by how closely my hero Tom resembles my favorite actor, Eric Sheffer Stevens.
That's not unusual, I know; many writers find inspiration in actors or singers or athletes when creating a character. What is unusual, however, is that I wrote the book well before I ever laid eyes on ESS.
(Who's Eric Sheffer Stevens? Well, if you don't watch American soaps, you'd likely never have heard of him before. He's a stage actor from New York who was cast as Dr. Reid Oliver on As The World Turns last year. It was originally supposed to be a secondary character in a secondary storyline, a few months of steady work between stage gigs. But his talent – and the fan response – ended up being far beyond anyone's expectations, and he stayed with the show through the final episodes. He's now been cast in a new FOX comedy starting in November, called I Hate My Teenage Daughter. So his relative anonymity may be coming to an end soon.)
In a way, it shouldn't have surprised me that there was a connection to Eric Sheffer Stevens. Ever since I started following his career, I've found our paths crossing in some unexpected ways.
First, through a network of friends, I was able to score an interview with him for my blog. I wasn't a soap writer, or professional journalist, and I didn't have an entertainment-themed website. But the hottest discovery on daytime television last year agreed to a phone interview with me. Check out the interview!
Then I had a chance to fly down to California on short notice to attend the filming of the pilot for his new show. (description of that trip, including the part where he runs after us in the studio lot to thank us for coming, is here.)
Although I didn't deliberately base my hero on Eric, once I realized how much Tom resembled him, I decided to run with the connection. When I turned in my cover art sheet, I attached a photo of Eric for the cover artist to see what the hero looked like. And when it came time to work on promo, I turned to Hayley Charlesworth, a cartoonist I knew from the ATWT days. She'd created the Reid Oliver Cartoon Saga, which gained a major following on YouTube, including the actor himself, who declared them "genius". She made a book trailer for me, using Eric as inspiration, and it turned out fantastic. And the drawing of Tom from the video also made it onto my Romance Trading Cards for the book.

So sometimes, connections spring up in unexpected places. The challenge, for me, is to recognize and embrace them when they happen.
Discussion time! What unexpected connection surprised you recently?

Excerpt - Moon Burning

MOON BURNINGby Lucy MonroeISBN-10: 0425239802ISBN-13: 978-0425239803A Children of the Moon Novel #3Paranormal Historical WerewolfBerkley Sensation - February 2011
Bestselling author Lucy Monroe returns to her hugely popular paranormal world where a woman falls under the spell of the beast who is her one true enemy...
Barr never asked to be made laird over the struggling Donegal clan, or leader of its werewolf pack. But he'll do his duty and although he hasn't yet found his mate, he hopes she will be among his people. He expects his new role to be difficult; he doesn't expect to discover a naked woman in the forest whose memory is as fragile as her human body—her delectable, all too appealing body. Could this woman be his true mate?
On a mission to save her people from extinction, Sabrine pretends she has no memory in order to gain access to her enemy: the Donegal clan. A raven shifter, she is determined to retrieve the sacred stone that rightfully belongs to her people. But soon she'll be engulfed in her burning desire and growing love for Barr—and the dangerous and inescapable secrets destined to keep them apart...
Buy the book: Borders ~ B&N ~ Books-a-Million ~ Amazon
Excerpt from Chapter 1

Donegal Lands, Scottish Highlands12th Century AD
The raven flew high above the earth, her keen vision spying five Donegal hunters in the forest below.
The red and black of their plaids peeked through the trees, leaving no doubt to the true number, but she could only hear three of them. Two were silent as they stalked their prey. Even her raven hearing honed sharper than her talons could not detect the sound of their movements.
They had masked their scents as well, showing they had better control of their Chrechte nature than the others. These two Faol of the Chrechte were dangerous.
No wolf could be trusted, but one who mastered his beast was one who must be watched most carefully. He would not be easily taken in by the tricks of the Éan. It was good her raven family had set her to this task. Another, less seasoned fighter, could fail too easily with wolves such as these.
Sabrine had been protecting her people since her fifteenth summer, a long seven years past.
She circled lower, preparing for her landing. This had to look natural, but she did not relish taking human form merely to fall through a few tree branches. She was still a good distance from the men, though closer to the earth when an agonizing pain pierced her left wing.
Her first instinct was to pull her wing to her body, but she forced herself to keep it expanded so she could coast lower rather than spinning out of control. She would not die before saving her people from the wolves' treachery.
As she neared the earth, she let her raven fall away, taking on her fully human form, just as she had planned to before the foul arrow had pierced her wing. Tree branches scratched at her body as she tumbled toward the ground.
She ignored the minor pain for the larger purpose. She would use the wolves' thirst for blood against them. Their own actions would make way for her to find welcome in their clan.
As a helpless human female.
Dark amusement rolled through her with the pain of her landing. She grabbed the arrow, broke off the tip, gripped the other side, and yanked it from her arm.
As her world turned black around the edges, she threw the offending weapon as far from her as possible.
Click Here to read more.

Humpday Hottie!

Here are some hero's that can rescue me anytime!

Waiting on Editorial Comment

I keep waiting for that day when I'll write with confidence, rather than this gremlin on my shoulder that pours forth a steady stream of, "Are you sure your editor is going to go for that?" ... "Isn't that a bit passe?" ... "Cliche alert!" ... "Didn't another author use that same hero's name ten years ago?" ... "Do you really think there's enough story here for the word count?" ... "That's a bit risky, are you sure you want to write that?" ... and on and on and on.
I've spoken to too many authors who seem to share my affliction for me to think it's unique.  And yet we keep writing and looking for the best way to deal with the gremlin - the doubt devils that plague us.  I practice ignoring them, telling myself I have to write the story as it comes to me, not try to fit someone else's idea of a good romantic adventure.
Right now, I'm waiting on editorial feedback from Berkley on my latest Children of the Moon novel and it makes it that much harder to write the other two books I'm working on with freedom.  I seem to doubt myself even more when I'm waiting to find out if I've written dreck in someone else's eyes.  And the editors are busy, their deadlines worse than any author's, so I don't expect to hear back immediately.
But waiting is a killer of creativity, so I try to forget I have a book out there awaiting verdict and soldiering on.  The good news is that I'm getting *a lot* of writing done despite holidays, family visits and more than a week's worth of cluster migraines.  "Back in the Sheikh's Bed" is shaping up nicely and I'm feeling rather confident (for the moment).  I'm taking more risks with "Heat Seeker" that readers are either going to love...or not so much, but I'm hoping love because well...I do.
That's the kicker, no matter how the gremlin tries to worry me, I have to write for myself - for the stories burning in *my* heart to be written.  So, as always, despite my little shoulder gremlin, I am writing 100% from my heart and hoping my editors and readers can sense that when they get to see the finished stories.
It's your turn:  What is one area of your life you tend to doubt yourself in and how do you handle that doubt?

Weekly Prize Giveaway!

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Throughout the month of September I will be giving away not just one book every week, but a bag/tote full of books from lots of my favorite authors! I'll also include a signed copy of one of my own books! You'll be ready when fall arrives. Cozy up in your favorite reading spot with a great cup of coffee and dive in to some delicious reads! Be sure to leave a comment on any posting open to comments and you'll be entered in the contest!

One bag/tote will be given away each week.
Weekly winner will be posted on Saturday!

Contest Winners!

Congratulations to the following people for winning this week's contest! Please be sure to Email me! with your name and mailing information so you can get your prizes!

Monday:Tuesday:Wednesday:Thursday:Friday:Saturday:
Please Note: Although Lucy is happy to ship internationally, there have been some customs issues in Africa and Asia, therefore she would like to offer winners in those locations a free ebook. Please provide your email and we will send you a pdf. file.

Excerpt from Susan Andersen

Playing Dirty

Susan AndersenHarlequin • ISBN: 037377589X



When high school golden boy Cade Gallari publicly revealed he'd slept with "fat girl" Ava Spencer to win a bet, he broke her heart. Now a decade older and a head-turner with her own concierge business, Ava isn't the gullible dreamer she once was—and she plans to prove it when Cade, hotter than ever, breezes back into town with an offer she can't refuse.

A documentary film producer, Cade is shooting a movie about the mysterious mansion Ava inherited. And he wants her as his personal concierge. She's certainly professional enough to be at his beck and call without giving him everything he wants. Like another shot at having her in his bed. But Ava doesn't count on Cade's determination. Because he's never gotten over her. And he's not above playing dirty to score a second chance at a red-hot future…



Order from Amazon.com Order from Barnes & Noble.com

Chapter OneI'm not sure if I just made a really savvy move—or the biggest blunder of my life.

Present Day, the 9th of November

The bastard was late. Ava Spencer cursed the man she was waiting on as she paced the front foyer of the Wolcott mansion, alternately hugging herself against the cold and trying to rub some warmth into her arms through her coat sleeves. The place had been closed up for several weeks and between the wind currently buffeting the mullioned windows and the rainstorm that had blown through earlier, leaving a Seattlecentric damp-to-the-bone chill in its wake, she was freezing her ass off.

She would've turned on the heat, but there was little point. If the guy ever deigned to get here, she'd be showing him the mansion from attic to wine cellar. And while Jane kept the front parlor and hidden closet in Miss Agnes' upstairs sitting room climate controlled for the preservation of the Wolcott collections that weren't currently sold or on loan to museums, it would take until noon tomorrow to warm up the rest. And although she had turned on every light in the house, the illusion of warmth from the yellow glow from the lamps and overheads didn't come close to replacing the real thing.

A laugh that went a little wild escaped her. Like that was the crucial issue here. Because. . .It's not some guy, Av. It's Cade Calderwood Gallari.

Jeez Marie. She couldn't believe she'd agreed to this. So, yes, she was concentrating on the minutia for all she was worth to keep from thinking about it. Because it was too freaking late to second guess herself now.Wasn't it?She froze for an arrested second. Hell, no, it wasn't! The heavy feeling in her stomach lightening, she snatched up her purse and started down the hallway to the kitchen. Its exterior door was the direct route to where she'd parked her Beemer. Cade was late? She was out of here.Headlights swept the east wall across from the kitchen archway, stopping her dead. "Shit."Too late.

She did a little dance in place to shake off the muscle-tightening tension that had her tighter than a guy wire, throwing in some yoga-breathing for good measure. Exhaling a final gusty breath, she nodded to herself. "Okay. Time to pull on your big girl pants."

She forced herself to shove down her irritation over Cade's tardiness, over the fact that he breathed, and bury it deep. It's been thirteen years, girl. He's a footnote, someone who no longer matters. Who hasn't mattered for a very long time. So it probably wouldn't do to snap his head off first thing.

But, oh, boy. The temptation.

She watched him through the back door window as he climbed the steps and stopped beneath the porch light, and her annoyance surged back with a vengeance. She fought it to a standstill once more, blew out a final exhalation and reached out to unlock the door.

The knob turned before she could open it and he blew into the kitchen, shaking himself like a wet dog and sending raindrops flying in all directions from his sun-streaked brown hair. Looking beyond him, Ava saw that it had begun to pour again.

"Man, it's wet out there!" He flashed her his trademark Gallari smile, white teeth flashing and deep creases bracketing his mouth. Only she noticed that this time the blue, blue eyes glinting between dense, dark lashes held. . .something. Wariness maybe or. . .calculation? Something cooler and edgier than the smile that for years had haunted her dreams.

It just bugged the hell out of her that she felt his impact like a cattle prod to the breast bone. Why was it like this every damn time she laid eyes on him: this immediate, visceral one-two to the heart? It was identical to the reaction she'd had around Teenage Cade--and even after everything she knew about him, everything he'd done, seeing him gave her that same hot punch to the solar plexus.

Well, it would be a cold, cold day in hell before she felt the least bit tempted to act on it. She raised an eyebrow. "And you call yourself a Seattle native?"

"I forgot how fast the rain can soak a guy up here."

She gave him a polite smile. "I suppose living in southern California will do that to a person." She glanced at her watch. "Shall we proceed?"

"Yeah, sure." His mouth developed an unyielding slant that somehow looked more at home on his chapped lips than his old smile. "Sorry I'm late. There was a wreck on I-5 and it took a while to get traffic moving again."

She nodded her acceptance of his apology and watched as he looked around the kitchen. A small pucker of dismay appeared between his dark eyebrows. "It's been modernized."When Ava looked him fully in the face this time, she found it less unsettling. "Surely you didn't expect it to be the same as it was back in the Eighties?"

"I guess I'd hoped it would be."

"As soon as Poppy, Jane and I inherited it, we had the awful sun room addition removed and yes, modernized the place throughout." We were expecting to sell it, Slick, not rent it. "But a tour is worth a dozen explanations or descriptions, so let me show you the work we had done. I think you'll agree our crew did a wonderful job of preserving the spirit of the original design in their restoration. We can start with the dining room across the hall."

She turned, only to feel Cade wrap a hand around her forearm to halt her. Heat seeped through the cashmere of her coat sleeve beneath his light grasp, and she promptly swung back around, twisting her arm free.

"Do not," she said with hard fought calm, "touch me."

Releasing her, he stepped back. "I just wanted to tell you, before we get started, how genuinely sorry I am for what happened back in high school. I was--"

"Forget it," she interrupted. She so did not want to rehash the ugly details of the past with him.

"I have."

"Really?" Those eloquent eyebrows rose, surprise flashing in the depth of his cobalt eyes.

She gave him a regal nod. She'd cut him off at the knees the other times he'd sought her out over the years to apologize, but if acknowledging his regret would move him along to a place where they didn't have to hash over the past, then, fine. She'd grant him his damn redemption."You forgive me then?"

No. Hell, no. That would be a snowboarding day in hell.

But she gave him a serene smile. "Let's just agree to leave the past in the past, shall we?" Not awaiting a response, she led him to the dining room and got down to business. "As you can see, great care was taken in here to preserve the integrity of the era in which the Wolcott Mansion was built—"