Amanda Usen's Blog, page 11

A Heartpunch Between The Sheets from Molly O’Keefe

Buy from AMAZON, B&N, KOBO, and OTHER PLACES

Enter to win a signed copy of WILD CHILD by Molly O’Keefe.

So, I love Molly O’Keefe books. I kind of love the woman, too. (Once you start meeting authors in real life, the ones who are great people as well as great writers stand out.) So far she’s made me cry on a plane, a couch, and in bed. She writes people, real people. Shitty, messy, awesome people! My writer brain has been pondering what makes my reader brain fall in love with a book. What makes a certain part of a story hit me like a heartpunch. I can’t quite put it into perfect words yet, but it has to do with character. Also with conflict, stakes, torture, and payoff, but mostly with character.

In BETWEEN THE SHEETS we’ve got Shelby and Ty. Lo, they are broken. Ty is a bad boy, the genuine article. The dude doesn’t just drive a motorcycle, drink beer, and present an interesting sexual challenge for the heroine. Ty is wounded and at the end of his rope. Shelby (introduced in WILD CHILD, which I’m giving away here!) is so deeply miserable and repressed she’s about to bust her spring. At first I was like FINALLY, a nice man who can give Shelby amazing dirty sex that won’t make her feel bad. And then I was like *gasp* Ty is not a nice man. He’s damaged, too. And then the beam of light! And then the realization that even if the bad boy CAN be redeemed, the heroine has her own issues. And it’s HER issues that are the real problem. NO NO NO NO NO NO! Ahhhhhhhhhhh!

And hot sex. Good stuff. And community, family, and belonging, which O’Keefe always does well. I don’t have “autobuy” authors. Books are expensive, so I make my decisions book by book based on whether the sample sucks me in. However…I may have to go back and pick up that blue one with the selfish, bitchy heroine in the Crooked Creek ranch series because O’Keefe excels at making me empathize with her flawed characters. Making me care. I haven’t finished BETWEEN THE SHEETS yet, but I care. I can’t wait. It’s all about the payoff. Damaged characters whose needs are as big as their flaws. Characters who will hurt each other to protect themselves. HUGE payoff.

So that’s why I fangirl for Molly O’Keefe. She gives huge payoff. (And she’s not invulnerable, thank God. This blog post really touched me, and she won that RITA last month, btw. I fangirled CRAZY THING CALLED LOVE here. And she gave a kick ass workshop to the Western New York Romance Writers on writing sex scenes. And in that workshop, she didn’t even freaking MENTION she had two books coming out the next month. It’s a classy chick who sees you as colleagues instead of royalties. Or maybe she just forgot, but that makes me like her even MORE!)

Buy BETWEEN THE SHEETS from Buy from AMAZON, B&N, KOBO, and OTHER PLACES. Regret it, you will not.

Enter to win a SIGNED print copy of WILD CHILD, the first book in the Boys of Bishop series.

Happiness Is A Practice, a.k.a. It’s Never Going To Be Good Enough

This is a post for writers, but only self-doubting writers. Shiny, self-confident, well-adjusted writers, please avert your eyes, and readers, stop reading. I want you all to think I’m perky, witty, and above all…successful. But those of you writers who wrestle demons, gather ’round…

I’m coming to grips with something sort of devastating for a 42 year-old who is supposed to be grown up. I feel like I’m failing. I thought it was because my ten year plan didn’t work out. I’m not making enough money writing, and it’s time to get another job. (Oh shit, smell the blood in the water? No one will buy my books now!) Just the thought of getting a full-time job brings tears to my eyes, like, every day. I’ve had four part-time jobs for a bunch of years now. I write under two names, tutor SAT prep, and teach pastry arts classes at a community college. This gives me time to write, but it’s not enough money. I’m not doing it right.

That’s what I hear in my head, but even *I* know it’s bullshit.

My employers value me. My publishers want more books. Getting another job does NOT mean giving up writing. It isn’t failure because I’m happy with my work. It isn’t the death of the dream. So why do I feel wrecked? The answer is simple. And sickening. I wreck myself.

Notice I didn’t say “wrecked.” Because I do it over and over. My husband has made a joke out of it so often, my kid said it the other day. “But you love to beat yourself up. It makes you happy.” What was I supposed to say? “I’m not happy”? Well, why the fuck not? I should be. My life is amazing. But I never make a list of the good stuff. Just the stuff that needs doing, and that list never ends. So I beat myself up about beating myself up about not being happy.

Thank God for yoga and an instructor who reminds us “It’s a practice.”

Happiness is a practice, at least for me. I know we’re all precious snowflakes, but I bet it is for some of you, too.

I know why I’m wired for self-doubt, but that doesn’t make it any easier to fight the demons. Even if I didn’t have deep-seated issues, I’ve chosen a profession in which I will never be good enough. Because even when I type THE END that only means it’s time for several passes of edits. I love edits and my editors, but I write the damn books with my blood and guts, so…you know. It’s hard to try to get it right over and over again, and of course typos always make it into the final, formatted manuscript. And then…the reviews come. The amazing, wonderful, good, so-so, bad, horrid, putrid reviews. (I’m grateful for every one. Yes, even the putrid ones I shouldn’t have read. They bought the book or at least read the book.) Oh, and let’s not forget not every book becomes a bestseller, hits the lists, the top 100, or whatever meaningless measure I’m tormenting myself with this week. (Because I know if it doesn’t sell then it isn’t good and neither am I and, oh, those shitty demons!)

My agent says I need to get a thicker skin. She’s right. Is there an app for that?

Damn it. No. Or I would have deleted Minecraft to make room for it. It’s up to me. It’s up to you. Denial is the first phase, and admitting there is a problem is the first step, but that’s only the beginning for people like us. Our demons are hydras, and we like their heads. They’re familiar.

Are you happy?

In yoga, when I fall out of a pose, I laugh and get back in. When I get dizzy, I put a leg down. Because there is no “good enough.” There is only my experience. None of the measures matter.

In my writing life, each book is as good as I can make it, and I enjoy writing them. The job doesn’t stop there, but I don’t have to stand still for the inevitable, measuring blows. I took Tae Kwon Do in college, but it’s only now that I realize the best way to block a punch or a kick is to get out of the damn way. Or deflect it. Just because somebody throws a punch, doesn’t mean you have to take it. Since we aren’t talking about a physical fight, guess what? Even if the punch lands, it doesn’t have to hurt. We make it hurt by giving it power.

I already know I’m my own worst critic, and I’m wired to internalize criticism and shrug off praise. Unless you are one of those shiny, happy, charmed people who aren’t supposed to be reading this, you are, too. We can’t wake up, realize we’re hard on ourselves, and stop. But we also don’t have to beat ourselves unconscious.

It’s never going to be good enough.

Because there IS no good enough.

Not for people like us.

But there is this moment, this day, this life, and we can get back in it every time we fall out. Happiness is a practice. Or that’s what this writer is telling herself this month to keep the demons at bay. I’m at a double crossroads. It’s time to get that new job, and Hot Nights Book 3 is my last official deadline. I need to pick two new projects, so I’ve been pondering this topic a lot. (Ha! Like I haven’t been pondering it for at LEAST 20 years.) Are you pondering, too?

Do you have a mantra, a manifesto, a talisman, a demon deflector, hydra head-lopper? Would you please post it in the comments? I think I’ll make a postcard out of all of them and send one to you. :-)

 

 

 

 

Strawberry Rhubarb Mojito Recipe

Many strawberries and limes were harmed in the making of this post! Several stalks of rhubarb were chopped. Mint leaves were muddled. Rum was slugged. All in the name of summer fun!

It’s sweet, just tart enough, a refreshing summer cocktail that can be slung together with a minimum of fuss and muss. Here’s how you do it:

First you must make your rhubarb simple syrup. I recommend doing this a few hours ahead of time so it can chill. But what did *I* do? I set up an ice bath with two metal bowls and ice water in between, so I could cool off the simple syrup A.S.A.P. Planning ahead is awesome, but I wanted a cocktail!

Rhubarb Simple Syrup

1 ½ cups water

1 cup granulated sugar

1 cup rhubarb, diced into small pieces

Bring to a simmer to dissolve sugar. Simmer about 5 minutes, until the liquid is reduced to 2 cups. Strain out rhubarb. (It was too good to throw away, so we ate it. You could mix it into apple sauce, strawberry jelly, or vanilla ice cream. Love rhubarb!)

Cool the syrup.

Strawberry Rhubarb Mojito

In a tall glass:

Muddle 3 lime wedges (about ¼ lime)

10 mint leaves

3 Tablespoons rhubarb simple syrup

What does muddle mean? In my house, it means smash around with a wooden spoon. My neighborhood BFF, Melissa, has a fancy mortar and pestle mojito doogie. Basically, you want to smoosh the juice out of the lime, release the oil from the zest, and bruise the mint leaves.

Add 2 ounces white rum.

Fill glass with ice.

Add ½ cup club soda.

Toss in one strawberry, small diced

Stir. Blur. Jubilate.

I set most of my romances in the kitchen because I met my husband in culinary school. We love to cook for each other, family, and friends. In fact, once a year, we roast a pig for the whole darn neighborhood! Yup, food, fun, and romance are three of my favorite things, and that’s what I bring to my stories. Check out my books and recipes to cook up some fun of your own!

Other fun stuff:

Sign up for my Awesome Sauce Newsletter

Enter to win swag from my favorite authors

Read my review of UP TO ME by Christi Barth

*Recipe originally posted by Fictional Candy during my INTO THE FIRE blog tour.

 

Christi Barth Writes Swoony Romance!

Available from AMAZON,
 B&N, Carina Press, iBooks, Google

I think it was the RWA conference in Orlando, although it might have been the NJ Put Your Heart in a Book con. I’m very up-front about how 3 kids and writing has shredded my short-term memory, although it’s been long enough to be considered long term, so let’s move on.

I met Christi Barth at a free continental breakfast. Since I don’t like hard-boiled eggs or yogurt, I went for the bagel. Christi was captivating, and not just because I was grateful to have someone to talk to so I didn’t look as alone as I really was. She was PUBLISHED! I went home and ordered her book. Since then our paths have crossed right and left, and I feel honored every time I get to see her. Our long lunch over Cobb-style salads in New Orleans at RT was one of the high points of May for me. I was delighted to hear she had a new book coming out, and I pre-ordered it! Why were we eating salads in NOLA? Because they were covered with shrimp remoulade and crab meat! Oh – and cheese. Exactly. (For the chance to win swag from Christi and some of my other favorite authors I squeezed at RT, like Robyn Peterman, Megan Mulry, Karen Stivali, and Darynda Jones, enter the Raflecopter giveaway at the tippy end of this post.)

I started reading UP TO ME, Book One of the Shore Secrets series, the day it came out and quickly lost myself in the world of Mayhew Manor, a modern-day castle on the shores of Seneca Lake in wine country. Let me tell you, I am dying to take a swim in the perfect-for-making-out rock-lined pool in the Manor, I would kill for a big-ass cup of coffee at the General Store, and I WANT A GLASS OF WINE from the Manor vineyard. I also wouldn’t mind some spirits from the distillery, owned by a small town hottie and excellent hero bait for Book Two (Feb. 2015). Speaking of hero bait, I hope Christi plans to make the Manor chef the hero of the third book. Yes, indeed, Christi built an engaging small-town world, and I can’t wait to visit it again!

If you like your books heavy on the romance, you’ll love UP TO ME. Although the hero and heroine indulge their senses and don’t shy away from admitting the down-and-dirty realness of their attraction, the actual full-on naked sex happened later in the book than I was expecting. At first I was impatient. The hero, Graydon Locke, is an amazing kisser. My mouth watered as I read the make-out scenes. I wanted them to do the deed! But then I was charmed by the old-fashioned, delightful romance going on before my eyes. *sigh* I kept racing ahead (because I’m a dirty bird) but I may have to read it all over again. Just so I can appreciate how well it was put together, anticipate the next books, and swoon over the truly perfect last sentence.

I hope you’ll buy UP TO ME (at $3.03 it’s a steal and a deal) so you can be just as hooked as I am! Read on for THE POOL SCENE!

Ella Mayhew’s always appreciated the beautiful view of Seneca Lake from the spa window of her family’s hotel. But the view improves dramatically when a hot stranger runs across the grounds—shirtless. He’s the first man to kickstart her hormones in the three years since she lost her parents, and she doesn’t even know his name.

Graydon Locke’s on his umpteenth undercover assignment. The routine’s always the same: assess a business, recommend it for closure, then roll out before anyone discovers his decisions impact hundreds of lives. He’s always believed nothing good comes out of small towns. Why would this one be different? Then he makes two classic rookie mistakes—falling for the sweet, sexy girl who owns the very business he’s on the verge of axing. And letting the town’s residents get involved in both his life, and his relationship with Ella.

Ella’s the best thing to ever happen to Gray, but he’s lied to her from the start. If he pulls the plug on Mayhew Manor, the entire town may crumble. Ella couldn’t save her parents, but it’s up to her to save their hotel. Even if that means turning her back on true love.

Excerpt:

“Come do yoga with me tomorrow.”

“I’m a guy. We’re all about being hard and stiff, not soft and bendy.”

Ella blinked rapidly to clear the images of a naked, hard-muscled Gray that popped into her mind. And hardness…other places. “Don’t be so close-minded. Didn’t you end up enjoying the massage I gave you?”

“Yes.” He sounded adorably sulky at being forced to acknowledge it. Why was it that men found it so hard to admit when they were wrong? Definitely a topic of discussion for her next margarita night with the girls.

“See? You can’t dismiss something out of hand without at least trying it.”

Gray wrinkled his nose. “Do I have a choice?”

“No.” Ella brought up her other hand to cup his face. “You deserve to be looked after. It’s not much, I know, but let me help you in the only way I can.”

“I’ll do it—”

Ella bounced a little. “Terrific.”

“—on one condition. I’ve just come up with a good plan for stress release. Let’s try my way first.” Gray wove his fingers through the loose knit of her turquoise sweater. In one swift move, he pulled it off over her head and tossed it into the corner. “Come swimming with me. Right now.”

Was he serious? To stall for time while she processed the preposterous suggestion, Ella stammered, “We…we don’t have suits.”

“You said the pool’s still officially closed. No one will interrupt us.” He toyed with the strap of her matching tank. “You’ve got this thing. I’m wearing boxer briefs. We’ll be more covered up than in suits. Unless you don’t think you can control yourself around me?”

That was it in a nutshell. Not that she’d admit it to Gray. Not when he had that sharp eyebrow arched and a smug quirk to his lips. If he was trying to shock her…well, he had, no denying that. But what better way was there to embrace life fully than to embrace a dripping wet, mostly naked Gray? While she’d never work up the courage to tell him, this was the kind of activity Dr. T. would probably applaud. Or at least give her a gold star. He had asked her to email him with progress reports if anything big happened. Unable to resist, she glanced down at Gray’s crotch. Ella expected something very big, indeed, was about to happen.

“Water’s extremely therapeutic,” she said in her most serious, I’m massaging you but not judging your naked body in any way professional voice. “Swimming is a good counterpart to yoga. They use the same long muscles.”

Yup. Her matter-of-fact delivery dropped his eyebrow back to its usual straight line and wiped the smug from his lips. Ella kept the surprises rolling. She stood, unbuttoned her skirt and let it slide the floor into a big blue puddle. Then she reached out, grabbed his wrist, and yanked him sideways into the pool with her.

The simultaneous body flops slapped noise and water all around the room. Ella recovered first, treading water while waiting for Gray to get his bearings and surface. Keeping her head above water was easy. Breathing, however, was not, as she was laughing her head off at catching him off guard. Finally, with much thrashing and churning of the water, Gray popped up near the middle of the pool.

“What the hell?” he yelled, his voice bouncing off the rocks with a hollow echo. “I’m wearing clothes!”

“So take them off,” she yelled back. Geez, it was his idea. Ella had just implemented it without talking it to death first. She’d thought he’d appreciate her spontaneity.

Gray stared at her for a minute, totally unreadable. Then his head disappeared beneath the water again. In fact, he sank straight to the bottom. It worried her. But just until a heavy, sodden pair of jeans landed like a giant blue spitwad in front of her. Laughing, she tossed them over her shoulder in the general direction of their shoes. Then Gray’s shirt appeared, floating near the filter. Something she’d have to remember to retrieve before morning when maintenance would make their final sweep before reopening the pool.

She felt Gray first. His head brushed against her stomach. Using her body like a swim ladder, he climbed it with his hands until just those brilliant blue eyes broke the surface. Blinked at her once. Then he tilted his head back and arced a stream of water from his lips to the dead center of her forehead. Laughing even harder, Ella reached under his shoulders to pull him the rest of the way up.

That’s when the laughter stopped. When buoyancy slammed his oh my God so hard cock right against her. When it was the most natural thing in the world to wrap her legs tight around him to keep him nestled against all her heat and what felt like every freaking nerve ending in her body. And when she twined her arms around his neck just for the thrill of rubbing her breasts across his chest.

With two powerful kicks, Gray propelled them to the wall. He sandwiched Ella against it and hung on to the rocks to keep them both afloat. “I’m on board with your idea. As you can tell.” He ground against her in a way that absolutely proved not only that he was enthusiastic about stripping, but that there was definitely nothing between them other than two thin, skintight layers of cotton. Gray’s impressive length was no longer just an impression or wishful thinking. It was hard and long and she couldn’t wait to impale herself on him. For now, she locked her ankles together and let the water do most of the work of bobbing her up and down in a rhythmic, full-body caress.

Water glistened at the tips of his lashes. Ella kissed it away, then just kept heading south. Over his early-evening stubble. Down past the Adam’s apple that jerked reflexively. She’d always thought them sexy. So uniquely masculine.

A nibble in the hollow of his collarbone. Down till her lips were just underwater, closed around his nipple. Ella flicked it against her teeth. Gray…growled? Whatever the noise was, it came from deep inside him and turned her core body temperature up by about twenty percent.

Purchase at  Amazon  Barnes & Noble  Carina Press  iBooks

Website | Blog | Pinterest | Twitter | Goodreads | Amazon Author Page |Facebook

Bio: Christi Barth earned a Masters degree in vocal performance and embarked upon a career on the stage.  A love of romance then drew her to wedding planning.  Ultimately she succumbed to her lifelong love of books and now writes award-winning contemporary romance.  Christi is President of the Maryland Romance Writers and lives in Maryland with her husband.

Click here to enter the Rafflecopter for the chance to win swag from authors who personally and professionally delight me up one side and down the other, plus some other stuff I’ll throw in because you might like it!

The Brazen Seduction Tour

Release day! This PLAYBOY has been a long time coming! For a limited time, SEDUCING THE PLAYBOY can be purchased for .99 at AMAZON, BARNES & NOBLE, GOOGLE, iTUNES, and more. Get your copy while it’s thrifty! :-)

To celebrate the release of our SEDUCTIVE books, Gina Gordon and I are throwing a Facebook Party this Wednesday. Click the pic to join the party!

We hope you’ll join us and invite all your friends! We’ve got BUZZING giveaways, video excerpts, and amazing guest authors Avery Flynn, Kimberly Kincaid, Diane Alberts/Jen McLaughlin, Cari Quinn, Taryn Elliott, Jessica Topper, Jodi Linton, and Christi Barth playing “Have You Ever…” with us. It’s going to be a blast!

We’re also offering the chance to win a $50 gift card to Amazon or Barnes & Noble to those who follow our blog tour. You can find our stops right here: THE BRAZEN SEDUCTION TOUR. You have to scroll to the bottom of the page for our tour stops. :-) Gina and I giggled our butts off while writing our back and forth posts!

My favorite part about my new book is the slow seduction. It’s an “older brother’s best friend” story, so Jenna and Roman have some shared history. She’s got a crush on him…and she won’t take no for an answer. He doesn’t want to take advantage of her…but he doesn’t want to say no, either. Together, they are hot enough to boil a hot tub, and they nearly do…twice! Here’s an excerpt to whet your appetite:

Roman instinctively caught her. Then he forced his hands back to his sides. “There’s a perfectly good chair by the door.”

“I’m trying to make a point.” She wrapped an arm around his shoulders, and her soft breasts pressed against his chest.

He shifted, hoping she couldn’t feel the effect she had on him. The desire to grab her hips and grind against her was overwhelming. “Are you going to make me dump you off my lap?” he bluffed.

“Are you going to pretend you aren’t enjoying this?” she shot back.

The first blush of his life heated his cheeks. He spoke through gritted teeth. “Merely an involuntary reaction to a beautiful woman.”

“Careful, Roman. That sounded like a compliment.” She shifted position again, using his shoulders for balance. He flinched as the muscles spasmed, sending a bolt of pain up his neck.

“What’s wrong with you? And don’t tell me nothing this time,” she said.

“I fell asleep on the couch last night. My neck is killing me.” Maybe now she’d take pity on him and get off his lap. He repressed the flash of disappointment he felt when she slid out of his lap and stood behind his chair.

“Poor baby. I’ve heard getting old sucks.”

“Brat.”

She laid her hand on the back of his neck and squeezed, making him gasp. Her grip tightened. “Which side hurts?”

“The left,” he said reluctantly.

She pressed her thumb into his left shoulder and he sagged in relief. As she dug deep into the knots that braided his muscles, the agony was exquisite. He knew he should stop her, but it felt so good, he couldn’t bring himself to do it, especially when her hands heated up, further easing his pain.

“Thanks,” he murmured, when he could take a deep breath and feel only a slight twinge of discomfort.

“You’re welcome.” She slid her hands down his chest and rested her chin lightly on his shoulder.

He inhaled, savoring her sweet scent. He knew he should say something to create distance between them, but it was such a comfortable silence he hated to break it. Her embrace made no demands on him. He was warm and content, feelings he usually didn’t associate with a woman. But Jenna had always been special—which made it even more disturbing she’d tried to play him. He tensed, remembering how tantalizing she’d looked last night. Desire surged through him again, and he leaned forward, breaking her grip. The back rub ploy was the oldest trick in the book. What was she softening him up for now?

On cue she slid back into his lap. “I have a confession to make.”

***

 You’ll have to read SEDUCING THE PLAYBOY to find out what Jenna confesses, but you can make your own “Have you ever…” confession if you join us Wednesday, the 28th of May, 8-10 pm EST! We’d love to chat with you. :-)

Purchase from AMAZON, BARNES & NOBLE, GOOGLE, iTUNES

 

 

 

Seducing the Playboy is Coming Soon!

Book Two in the Hot Nights series will release on May 26th! It’s hot. It’s fun. And it will make you hungry in more ways than one…

It will be .99 for a limited time when it releases on May 26th! Pre-order to lock in the discount! :-)

The best desserts are worth the wait…

Pastry chef Jenna Cooper crushed hard on playboy chef Roman Gallagher when her older brother brought him home to share their family Christmas six years ago. Now she’s old enough to do something about it, and she won’t take no for an answer—for anything.

Out of the frying pan into the fire…

Roman has one hard and fast rule—don’t sleep where you eat. But he can’t say no to Jenna’s plea for him to help her save her family business. Soon she’s working for him, and their scorching chemistry melts Roman’s resistance.

If you can’t stand the heat…

Jenna knows Roman has reservations about enjoying the heat between them, but she’s got a plan. She’s going to keep this sexy man so satisfied in—and out—of the kitchen, he won’t regret a thing. But Roman has his own ideas. He wants more than a few hot nights, and he’s going to teach Jenna a lesson about playing with fire.

I’m excited to share Jenna and Roman’s story with you!

Available from AMAZON, BARNES & NOBLE, GOOGLE, iTUNES, and more!

Romantic Times in New Orleans

Photo used with the permission of George Long Photography. George is the best!

Fifteen years and one month ago, I got married in New Orleans. Ben and I were living down there, having some fun after culinary school, and we thought no one would come to the wedding. Everyone came! We planned a swamp tour and had a Mexican-themed rehearsal dinner on the veranda of a St. Charles Street restaurant, complete with a wedding cake-shaped pinata made by Martha Hall Foose. The French Quarter Festival was going on that weekend, so the Quarter was filled with music. Such happy memories!

Next week I’m attending the RT Booklovers Convention in New Orleans, and my husband is coming down for the weekend. We’re going to revisit all our old haunts – Bayona (Susan Spicer’s flagship restaurant where we both used to work), the Acme Oyster House (where Ben will eat enough oysters for the both of us), Drago’s (charbroiled oysters are more my thing), and Morning Call (because beignets). And I WILL wander through the French Quarter enjoying a mango daiquiri…

If you’re attending the RT Convention and would like to meet me, I would LOVE to meet you! Here’s where I’ll be when I’m not eating:

Club RT: Wednesday, May 14th, Noon

Entangled’s Candy & Spoons: Wednesday, May 14th, 2:30-4:45

Club RT: Friday, May 16th, 1o:30 am

I have tons of INTO THE FIRE excerpt booklets to give away, and a Hot Nights Necessities basket in the Club RT giveaway. Stop by and say hi! :-)

Into The Fire Just Got Hotter!

INTO THE FIRE moved to the Brazen imprint of Entangled Publishing! It has a new cover, new blurb, some new bits and pieces, and a (slightly) chewier ending. You heard it here first!

She’s cooking up a recipe for revenge…

Heir to the Calabrese restaurant empire, Jackson Calabrese can buy whatever he wants—except creativity. He can craft perfect paella, but if his new restaurant is going to take New York by storm, he’ll need help. And there’s only one chef with the culinary creativity to reinvent their menu: former rival—and lover—Lila Grant. The one woman with all the right ingredients to drive Jackson wild. And damned if he doesn’t want another taste.

During their time at the culinary academy, Lila brought the heat in the kitchen and between Jackson’s sheets. Seducing her back into his bed—and his kitchen—should be easy. But after the way things ended between them, Lila isn’t giving anything away for free. Jackson may have made her an offer she can’t refuse, but she wants revenge, and she’ll take it served hot…one delicious bite at a time.

Stay tuned for SEDUCING THE PLAYBOY, Book 2 of the Hot Nights series in March! I have a special offer for newsletter subscribers, so if you want a deal, sign up here: Amanda’s Awesome Sauce.

What do you think of the new cover? Stay warm, y’all!

Happy Birthday Entangled Publishing!

Entangled is turning three this month, and the party rocks on! Tons of discounted titles to keep you warm until spring. Yes, I know some of you live in perma-warm places or places it will be cold in other months…but I’m cold NOW!

To celebrate, Entangled is having an Epic FB Birthday Event from February 24-28th: JOIN HERE!

If you want the inside scoop on which Entangled books will be discounted other months of the year, sign up for the STEALS & DEALS newsletter.

If you want EVEN MORE Entangled, opt-in for information about new releases, blog tours, and ARCS.

Happy Birthday to…and from…Entangled Publishing!

Looking For Joy

Hi folks! I am ever in that quest for balance. Joy. Human being versus human DOING. Life, not work. This is one of my favorite pictures from life.

 Reach for the flowers!

I loved her soft baby rolls. I remember exactly what they felt like beneath my palms when I lifted her up. My HANDS remember. They tingle when I think about it. The dip of her eyelid is so sweet. The focus, the fingertip. I had probably told her to be careful. Oh, the tender back of her neck, the dip in her skull, my mouth waters. She is still that sweet.