Frances Pauli's Blog, page 22

Have a Holly Jolly...or two.

Here's wishing all my friends, fans, and fellow authors a wonderful holiday and happiest of new years!


LOOK WHAT I GOT!

~Frances

Join in the 2012 SFR Reading Challenge!

This year's SFR (that's science fiction romance) reading challenge is posted and gearing up for a great year of reading in my favorite genre!

Come on by and sign up to play, and if you need any ideas to fill out that TBR list....have I got some suggestions for you. ;)

follow the link and blast off to SFR awesomeness!

Best of Luck!

~ Frances

Stuff Your Stocking Blog Hop

Welcome to the Stuff Your Stockings Christmas blog giveaway hop. This is running from the 16 to 18 December 2011.

I will be offering a print copy of A Moth in Darkness to one commentor, and a pdf copy of any book from my back list to a runner up.

Make sure you follow the rest of the hop, but clicking here or on the blog hop poster to see the rest of the participating authors, and have a Happy Holiday!!

 ~Frances~

Nutcracker Crazy

Twelve Dances
by Frances Pauli

Excerpt


She stared at the parting mist. A flat sheet lay before her, gleaming like ice, but too smooth to be a natural creation, too perfectly square. Behind it, a wide stair rose and there, in fragments between the swirling clouds, she saw portions of a castle. Here a turret lifted from the mist. There an arch or crenellation peeked, but most of the building remained hidden. In truth, Clara couldn't say if an entire building stood there, or if some ragtag collection of castle parts danced behind the wall of vapors. The music rose in volume. She turned her head from side to side. The sound drifted from both directions, played by an unseen orchestra just beyond sight. She reached a toe forward and tested the smooth floor. She feared it might crack or splinter at her touch. Instead, it glowed and shifted, sprouting a pattern of diamond tiles. The music paused, and trumpets blared from the castle wall. Clara lifted her gaze from the floor and stepped forward onto the surface. She heard steps marching, the click of booted heels approaching. She watched the stairs and listened to the rhythm of the advance. The princes, her soldiers, came down in formation. They lined up along the edge of the floor, and Clara knew each and every one of them. Eleven well-dressed princes stood along the bottom stair, and behind them, watching over their heads at the very center, her newest nutcracker waited. His wooden body had miraculously transformed to flesh, and though he wore the same tall hat, the exact same uniform as he had when standing on her little shelf, his blue eyes sparkled for real here. And his smile held nothing of the stiff, contraption he'd once been. All of them, each collected soldier, stood in the flesh, human and life-sized and waiting—she knew it now without a doubt—for her. The trumpets blasted out another fanfare, and her feet moved. She took two steps closer, and the music kicked in again. The line of soldiers pulled her in. She walked across the floor, light on her feet and entranced by her decoration come to life. Her eyes inventoried the group, named each prince and remembered each purchase, gift or discovery. Each time they moved along the line, they would dart quickly to the man who stood above the group. Each time, they found him staring, sapphire eyes glinting in her direction. Clara held her breath. She stopped before them, centered and watching the newest nutcracker. Her pulse raced, and she could feel the rhythm of her heart quicken. The fog spun and rolled around the scene, and the music lifted and vibrated through the cool air. Something was about to happen. She understood instinctively.
Now available at Devine Destinies

Tomorrow's Christmas Release! Twelve Dances

My story, Twelve Dances is coming out tomorrow through Devine Destinies. The story combines two of my favorite traditional tales, The Nutcracker and The Twelve Dancing Princesses, and I had so much fun writing it. I've worn out my welcome with cover puzzles, but give this one a shimmer and see if you like it better. :D

Twelve Dances
by Frances Pauli

Some dreams are too good to be true. Is Clara's too true to be good?

Blurb:
When Clara adds a brand new nutcracker to her favorite Christmas collection, she immediately starts having vivid, recurring dreams about her twelve wooden princes. As the holiday nears, her infatuation with the new nutcracker grows into a flirtation that sets the rest of the little soldiers against her. Dancing through an impossibly real battle in her sleep and dodging her infuriating family during the day, Clara's holidays take a spin toward disaster. If she can survive both and make it to Christmas Eve in one piece, will Clara get to dance with the one prince she actually wants? And even if she does, what happens when the holiday passes, and the nutcrackers are packed away for another year?

Checking it Twice

I can't help but love the hustle and bustle before the holidays. Even with Nanowrimo dominating the majority of my traditional pre-Christmas prep time, I still manage to hit the ground running on Dec. 1. I wouldn't have it any other way.

Today is the eighth, eight days into my amazing virtual advent calendar (JacquieLawson.com and I recommend them!) and I have the house twinkling with lights, the tree up, and the first round of presents wrapped. My lists are assembled. (though not entirely checked off) I'm stocked up on cocoa and candy canes, and I've got Elvis Christmas in the boom box.

It's just not Christmas without Elvis.

On the literary front, I have a finished science fiction romance to be shopped (and shopped and shopped) a fresh, raw sequel waiting for its turn under the knife (edits) and a sparkling new work in progress that beckons to me, even as we speak. :)

I am expecting editorial notation (thrashing) on my upcoming release any day now, and I have a ready to hit the shelves holiday romance that I should be crowing about soon--very soon.

To keep things interesting, there are at least five short stories circulating in the ether that I could be hearing the "yay" or "nay" on any second.

Is that enough bustle for one holiday?
Nah.

So, join me for some more. This weekend, both days, all day long we'll be having the annual Devine Destinies and Extasy books holiday party. They have a brand spanking new chatroom, and boy is it full of bells and whistles. :)

I'll be giving away a few ebooks each day to my readers who stop in and participate.
I hope to see you there: http://extasychat.com/
put in any ol user name you want, but don't pop in a password or it won't let you in.
It's tricky that way.

And did I mention that they're giving away a laptop?
:)
~ Frances

Aspect Ratio Nominated at The Romance Reviews

What a wonderful thing to wake up to in my inbox! Aspect Ratio, book two of the Shift Happens series has been nominated for best Paranormal Romance in the Aliens category. :)
Voting is going on now, should anyone feel inclined to toss a yay in my direction, you can do so here: http://www.theromancereviews.com/book...

I am currently finishing up book three for Nanowrimo, and I can't think of a better motivator to get my word count in. :D

Thanks everyone,

~Frances

Treading the Nanowrimo Waters

This year, Nanowrimo just might be the death of me. I know I say that every year, but this time, I almost mean it. We are looking week two straight in the face, one week down, ten thousand words added to the stubborn, WIP of doom, and I'm doing it. I'm getting the words out, filling the plot out, catching my stride. Still, so far, I've barely managed to keep my head above water.
Each night since the Nov. 1 kick off, I have slid like a runner into home plate, nattering off my final word count seconds before midnight. I've yet to lag behind, but it's not like I'm cruising ahead either. In fact, this may be the most lackluster, low energy, sort of blah nano I've ever experienced.
I worried that the story might be suffering for my lack of enthusiasm, but so far, according to a quick re-read this morning, it seems to be faring okay. It's just my spirit that's flagging, I suppose. It's just my fingers that tap sluggishly away at that count, making the grade each day, but only just.
Perhaps, I'm suffering from week two ahead of time. If so, maybe when the clock turns over tonight, I will catch an early week three puff of steam and write like the wind again. Here's to hoping. Here's to keeping my head above water, even if it is just barely above water. At least there are words coming out.
So tell me how your nano is going? Perhaps your flood of creative inspiration will wash over and inspire me to greater daily counts. Perhaps, your insanely high word count will spark a competitive nerve and get me hustling to keep up. Either way, it can't hurt. I'd love to hear some positive...or commiserate, should you be suffering the slow path with moi this year.
Still going, still going,
~ Frances

Thrice Shy

Excerpt:

The dog spun and leapt the nearest hay bale. It bolted, a dark, shaggy streak still trailing a tangle of red silk, through the nearest opening and disappeared into the maze depths. Jane shivered and held perfectly still. The voice had sounded far too near. Her heart stuttered. She reminded herself this was a scam, an act for tourists, and good sport for the yokels who set it up. The blood in her veins didn't listen. Her pulse throbbed and her lungs struggled to hold enough air to breathe properly.
"That's a neat trick." She managed to choke it out, but her bravado had vanished.
"It's no trick." A man's voice, low and breathy, whispered near her shoulder.
Jane twisted away, back peddling toward the center of the clearing. No one stood against the cornstalks, but the voice had come from there, from just beside the spot she'd vacated. There had to be someone hiding in the stalks. But who would go through that much trouble for a Halloween gag? She'd felt the sharp leaf edges. Even through her shirt, they'd scratched.
"Cut it out." She kept backing until she stood in the open beside a bale of straw and the cheesy vampire. "Your dog just stole a very expensive piece of clothing, buster."
"Lupis is no dog."
"What?" Jane turned again. The voice had circled around behind her. How could anyone move that quickly through the corn? Maybe they knew the maze, maybe they had a map, but either way, she doubted anyone could move that fast. "How many of you are there?" She stood stiff again and glared at the corn, one toe tapping. "I know a very good lawyer, and this is borderline, folks. I didn't pay for the maze and I'm not here for the show."
"I know why you're here, Jane Johnston." He was behind her, in the open. He had to be.
When she turned again, however, she found no sign of the voice's owner. Speakers. They had the whole maze wired, then.
"I don't know how you found out my name, but if you've gone through my car, I'll own this place. Understand?"
"I understand you, Jane."
She caught him that time, or rather, he stayed put and faced her. His pale face shone like the full moon overhead, and a black cape whipped and billowed around his ankles. The high collar was a dead give-away.
"I thought you were a prop." Jane scanned sideways just to be sure. At least she wasn't going crazy. The decoration had been moving. "Nice outfit."
The vampire tilted his head and bent one knee, dropping into a deep bow and flourishing the cape for effect. He was good. She felt goose bumps peak on her forearms. He had style. A bit too much, maybe, but then in a haunted maze, overly dramatic probably wouldn't count as a flaw. His voice flowed, as well. He drew out the words, and made each syllable stretch. "Gooooood Eeeeevening."
"Yeah. Nice touch." She crossed her arms over her chest and stared at him. Aside from the pallor, he had a gorgeous face, prominent cheekbones, and a long aquiline nose. His eyes looked dark from a few steps away, but the gaze pierced just the same. Charisma, that was it. No doubt, he stole the lead in all the little, po-dunk, community plays. "How do you know my name?"
"I heard it on the wind, Jane Johnston." He moved to the side, circling her and keeping his gaze lowered and fixed on her position. "You've come to wake me, Jane. After all these years of waiting, you have come."
"Uh, yeah." Jane shrugged. He moved more like a dancer than an actor. "Here I am. Now, what are the odds you'll just drop the act and show me the exit?"
"You wish to leave?" He appeared at her shoulder, just like that. His voice whispered, but she caught each word and a thread of something else behind them.
"I have a conference to get to," she said. "My boss' car." She could smell him, he stood so close. His aftershave had a sweet tang to it, and something familiar that she couldn't pin down. He never stopped moving either. One second he was on her right, the next, her left, and trying to keep track was making her dizzy. "Listen, I really need to get out of here."
"You do not wish to leave," he said.
"I don't?"
"You were looking for me."
"Was I?" She shook her head, heard the corn rattle, and remembered she still had a car to deliver. "Listen, you've got a great ego or stage presence or what have you, but you really could do better than a corn maze in the middle of nowhere. Maybe try modeling?" She took a step back, far enough away that she could breathe again, and turned to go.
"Stop!" He stood directly in front of her.
"How the hell do you do that?"
The vampire didn't answer. Instead, he flung one arm up and threw his cape wide. The material fluttered and then fell around her, dark, smelling of sweet, familiar musk, and blocking out any thoughts of leaving.


OUT NOW! :) http://www.extasybooks.com/thrice-shy/

Filking a Moth in Darkness

I've been filked.

It's not what you think. I was confused at first too. Actually, filking is a type of fannish folk music borne from a typo in a convention program long ago. (or a few decades, I'm not sure.)

So, I'm greatly honored and super excited to share my first ever filk, both written and performed by the talented Voss Foster. From my Changeling Race trilogy: book one, A Moth in Darkness, here is Revel, revel. :D