Jennifer Wilck's Blog, page 56

What Have I Done?

I think I’ve created a pair of monsters.

One of the things I love doing is walking through interesting homes. Usually, the ones I find interesting are old or oddly shaped or different in some way from the cookie cutter houses I find around me.  And I usually take my kids with me.

They love open houses and would be happy spending the entire day going from one to another, picking out their bedrooms, imagining what it would be like to live there and getting design ideas.

This past weekend, my husband was gone for the day. We went on some errands and then we went exploring. This might have been a mistake.

First, we checked out some estates on the way to Basking Ridge. They were huge. We couldn’t see their insides because even the ones that were for sale were by appointment only and didn’t offer open houses. My current house, which is a nice size, could fit in their garage and still have room for three or four cars. They were gorgeous. I could have spent hours driving up and down the road and admiring the houses from the outside.

But my kids got bored and wanted to go inside, so we found a few open houses nearby and checked them out. The two we looked at were pretty bad; although my opinion could be skewed after seeing the luxurious estates we’d driven past. It got my kids thinking about moving though.

And their thoughts were contagious.

I like my house, but it’s not as great as I used to think it was. There are definitely things about it that I wish I could change. And if I found a house I liked better, I’d consider moving.

My kids have their own wish lists. Banana Girl wants a two-story living room that she can look down from the second floor. Of course, she wants to be able to yell down to me, “Mom! I’m hungry!” And that pretty much guarantees I’ll never buy a house like that. Princess has a better shot; she wants bigger everything and a fresh start.

I keep telling them we’re not moving. But then they show me houses they’ve found online and it’s really hard to act like I don’t want to move when I find beautiful kitchens and dining rooms and stairwells.

It’s just a pipe dream right now. But man, it’s tempting.

Hearts and Flowers

Thinking about boyfriends today.

When I was in second grade, the school “bad boy” had a crush on me, which was pretty funny in itself because I was such a “goody two shoes.” His name was David Strasser and he lovvvvved me. J He used to write me love notes, many of which I saved. He also gave me three gifts that I still remember to this day.

One was a birthstone necklace. I don’t remember what the stone was, but it was in the center of a gold heart inside a white box. Another was perfume. This was my favorite, because the bottle was a white and pink princess castle. And the last was a little squirrel with clip arms that could attach to a backpack.

He brought these to school, wrapped, and gave them to me on the playground. I brought them home and showed my mom. We admired the items and then she called his mom. You see, he hadn’t bought any of these presents; he’d taken them from his sister.

His mother was very grateful that my mom called and my mom offered to return the items. Mrs. Strasser begged her not to do that. She said she’d replace her daughter’s things, but didn’t want David’s feelings hurt.

I’m not sure if I remember the presents because they were given to me by a boy, or because his mom and my mom were so concerned about everybody’s feelings..

As my girls deal with boyfriends, I hope everyone is equally concerned with each other’s feelings.

My Love/Hate Affair With the Phone

I hate bothering people. I hate putting people on the spot. I hate even the potential of causing someone any discomfort. I’m the person who will ask you to do something, but will also provide you with the potential excuse to get out of doing it (I know you’re really busy right now, but would you mind…).

That’s why I love email. Email is an introvert’s dream. It allows me to interact with people and know that I’m not bothering them, because they can read it at any time and respond whenever they like. Sure, I might sit by my computer and tap my fingers in frustration while I wait for a response (because I’m an ANAL introvert), but I take great comfort in the distance that email gives me.

I also like it because it gives me the chance to craft the perfect message or response, which is especially helpful when my snark gets the best of me and I just HAVE to respond. It provides a good screen to hide behind and makes me a bit braver than I actually am.

But today, I had to use the phone. The actual telephone. The one that gives me about three seconds, while it’s ringing, to wonder what the person’s reaction is going to be and whether or not I might be bothering them—three seconds is not enough time for that, by the way. The phone through which I listen to someone’s voice and try to determine from their tone how happy they are to talk to me—and tone, through the phone, is not always accurate. The device that allows people to still do something else while talking to me, lets me hear that they’re distracted, and makes me wonder if it’s me or them who’s doing the wrong thing.

In case you can’t tell, I don’t like the phone. I used to love it as a teenager and begged my parents for my own. But that was when I was young and stupid. I vowed in college never to have a cell phone because I didn’t want to be able to be reached in my car. I insist that my family members carry one at all times so that they can be reached in an emergency—one too many emergencies with them unavailable will do that. I even make fun of my kids for wanting a phone to text (!!!), when I use mine for the same thing.

But for myself? I’d really rather not use one–and don’t even get me started on the people who call my house at 3:00 just as my kids are getting home from school!

However, today, I needed to use my phone. I had to apologize to someone, and ask a few others for money, all of which were work related, and none of which could be done via email, unless I’m stuck in Nigeria and someone has taken all of my money and can you please send me $1,000? And by the way, apologies via email, well, they don’t always work.

So I called a bunch of people. And guess what? I didn’t mind it. In fact, it was a nice change. My call to apologize was well received and it led to some very nice compliments, which made my morning. My calls to ask for money were very pleasant. No one yelled at me, they were very receptive and it was actually nice having a real conversation or two. That’s not to say I’ll be volunteering for fundraising calls—I hate them. But these calls were for specific circumstances and I survived. They were also a good kick in the butt for me to get me out of my email rut and into the real world. The world where people interact in real time, have actual conversations and behave like normal (or relatively normal) human beings.

I still dislike the phone. And I still don’t like bothering people. But I do like talking, and might even do it more often.

 

If You Can’t Stand the Heat…

It’s entirely too hot today. I know, it’s summer. It’s July. It’s supposed to be hot. I hate listening to people complain about the weather. You want to complain about snow in June or a heat wave in December, go for it. Anything else, though, is pretty much as expected. But today, I’m joining them.

It’s like a sauna out there, only, not the good kind. The kind with lots of people you don’t particularly want to talk to, much less look at in a towel. It’s the kind of day where you sweat just walking from the front door to the mailbox. Have I mentioned I hate sweating?

I know I did a few times early this morning on my walk with a friend. We took our dogs for a walk around the lake, but in order to spare them and us the oppressive heat, we left at 6:30 in the morning. It seemed like a great idea last night. When the alarm went off this morning, not so much. I love my dog, but she better appreciate that I got up at 6:15 to walk her in relative comfort, when I could have been sleeping.

And even then it was hot. Usually, I complain when my friend makes me walk up hills. I complain that I’m tired. Yeah, I’m a joy to be around early in the morning. ☺ I guess maybe it was a treat to listen to different complaining? Maybe? I probably owe her chocolate.

When I wasn’t complaining on our walk this morning, I did bring up a few items of interest, one of which was why, when we stay indoors during the winter, does it feel like we’re cooped up, but when we stay indoors during the summer, it doesn’t? Maybe it requires less planning to go outside in the summer. You don’t need to bundle up or worry about icy roads. Maybe it’s the blue sky shining through the tightly closed window—the summer robin’s egg blue, not the winter watery blue. Maybe it’s the pockets of shade that provide relief if you do venture outdoors, or the ability to jump into the water to cool off. Or it could be the longer daylight hours give me a feeling of accomplishment—even if I’m home all day, I can get a lot done.

Especially when I’m out of the house at 6:30 a.m.!

Meet Bernadette Marie

[image error]What are your goals as a writer? Have you met them/How do you plan to meet them?

My goals change as a writer always. It was first to finish, to get published, to meet Nora Roberts on the top of the charts…done! I suppose now it is to consistently stay on the charts for more than a year (yes I made a year and am in a small lull…but don’t expect it for long) The dream is for NYT Bestseller title and then to open at #1 on the list…all while staying in control of my publishing destiny…as the publisher!  (Oh and of course…there has to be a movie deal in there right?)

What inspires you to write?

Writing is my passion so that keeps me going. Inspiration is everywhere for me. I can look at almost anything and have a story brewing in my head!!! My readers also keep me writing!!  They keep me motivated by their love and support.

How do you develop your characters?

Wow…that’s a hard one. The characters literally develop themselves. I begin to write and they introduce themselves to me. I never know what they are going to show me.

Do you use critique partners? Why or why not?

I don’t currently use them,but I did before I was published…for a short time. I think having a good and honest critique partner is important in learning how an editor will work and how to take criticism too.

How long have you been writing?

I have been writing since I was 13. I probably spent a million hours writing a book that I eventually shelved before I was finally published in 2010 

Do you outline ahead of time or do you write from your head (are you a plotter or a pantser)?

Total pantser. I have an idea how a story is going to go, but until I sit to write it I don’t know how it will go.

What is your writing routine?

I spend so much time publishing with my company, writing comes when it has time. But my blessing is that I can shut out the world and write anywhere. I can also write  a book in 2 months total turn around and that means I get my writing done under deadline very efficiently.

What do you do when you’re not writing?

If I’m not writing, I am probably working in my Publishing house or tending to my kiddos…which is my most favorite job. They all play hockey, and that means 5-7 days at the ice rink x5!!!

Tell me a little about yourself.

I am the happily married mother of 5 sons (8-15). I am the CEO of 5 Prince Publishing. A full time author and a 2nd degree black belt in Tang Soo DoWhat are you currently working on (feel free to include a synopsis or excerpt, but please keep it PG)?

I am currently working on the rereleases of my Matchmaker series and the third book of my Aspen Creek series, On Thin Ice. As for fresh writing, I am working hard on Love Songs, book six in the Keller Family Series.

What is your favorite guilty pleasure?

Chocolate!!!! Okay, and cookie dough…I know…I know. [image error]

What is your favorite book you’ve written? Read?

My favorite book that I have written is A Second Chance. I think because it deals with a family and to build that family and their conflict was near and dear to me, even if the subject matter wasn’t one I had to deal with.

The favorite books I must say are Thorn Birds, which really got me into wanting to write, and If Tomorrow Comes, which I read multiple times and it sat me down to write!

[image error]Available from 5 Prince Publishing www.5princebooks.com  books@5princebooks.com

Genre: Contemporary Romance

Release Date: June 13, 2013

Digital ISBN 13:978-1-939217-56-1  ISBN 10: 1-939217-56-3

Print ISBN 13: 978-1-939217-55-4   ISBN 10: 1-939217-55-5

Purchase link : www.5princebooks.com/buy.htm

Matchmakers

Cellist Sophia Burkhalter thought ten years in Europe performing with an exclusive ensemble would have made it clear that she wasn’t a candidate for her grandmother’s matchmaking. After all, she’d walked away from the man she loved, leaving him back home in Kansas City.

David Kendal had fallen in love with Sophia, a match orchestrated by her grandmother and his aunt. However, the unexpected appearance of the daughter he never knew he had—and Sophia’s sudden, subsequent departure for Europe—thrust him into the role of single father.

Carissa Kendal has only ever wanted the best for her father. It doesn’t take long for her to realize that the very woman who broke her father’s heart might be the one to make them a real family.

Can Carissa and the women who originally played matchmaker to the duo convince them that love is worth a second try? Or will careers and past mistakes tear them apart forever before they have a chance to reconcile?

Bio

Bernadette Marie has been an avid writer since the early age of 13, when she’d fill notebook after notebook with stories that she’d share with her friends.  Her journey into novel writing started the summer before eighth grade when her father gave her an old typewriter.  At all times of the day and night you would find her on the back porch penning her first work, which she would continue to write for the next 22 years.

In 2007 – after marriage, filling her chronic entrepreneurial needs, and having five children – Bernadette began to write seriously with the goal of being published.  That year she wrote 12 books.  In 2009 she was contracted for her first trilogy and the published author was born.  In 2011 she (being the entrepreneur that she is) opened her own publishing house, 5 Prince Publishing, and has released contemporary titles and began the process of taking on other authors in other genres.

In 2012 Bernadette Marie found herself on the bestsellers lists of iTunes and Amazon to name a few.  Her office wall is lined with colorful PostIt notes with the titles of books she will be releasing in the very near future, with hope that they too will grace the bestsellers lists.

Bernadette spends most of her free time driving her kids to their many events—usually hockey.  She is also an accomplished martial artist with a second degree black belt in Tang Soo Do.  An avid reader, she enjoys contemporary romances with humor and happily ever afters.

CONTACT INFO:

www.bernadettemarie.com

www.facebook.com/authorbernadettemarie

www.authorbernadettemarie.blogspot.com

@writesromance on Twitter

info@bernadettemarie.com

EXCERPT OF MATCHMAKERS:

Sophia filed off the airplane along with the other groggy passengers. The red-eye flight to Kansas City had knotted up her stomach. What in the hell was she doing back here?

Perfect persuasion and just the right amount of guilt had gotten her on that plane. Perhaps the tightening of her stomach wasn’t the flying—it could very well be that she’d returned to the very place she’d run from ten years ago.

She’d run from a man and shattered the hearts of people she loved. The guilt stung a little deeper. She should have come home years earlier.

Sophia followed a small group of women from the plane into the ladies’ room. Exhaustion weighed down her shoulders. Within the hour, she’d be at her grandmother’s house, tucked into her childhood bed, and asleep. In the meantime, she splashed cool water on her face to keep herself alert.

She dried her face and hands and adjusted the scarf at her neck to ensure it hid the secret she kept from the world. She picked up the carry-on luggage at her feet and headed toward baggage claim.

“Sophia.”

The husky voice was soft and male and made her knees weak when she heard it. She knew that voice as well as she knew her own. The knot in her stomach returned, but this time it was like a fist in her gut.

She turned to see him standing there in his pilot’s uniform with his suitcase at his side—David Kendal, the very man she’d run from so many years ago.

He took his pilot’s hat off and revealed the dark, wavy hair that she’d once run her fingers through. It was now speckled with hints of sophisticated silver. His uniform was striking on him—just as it had always been. Even in the early morning hour, she felt her skin tingle when she looked at his broad shoulders and knew what it was like to rest her head against his chest.

“David.” His name floated from her lips in a sigh. Ten years had passed since she’d last laid eyes on him, and now he was as large as life standing before her.

“I thought that was you on the plane.” He was walking closer to her, and her trembling knees wouldn’t allow her to run the other direction.

The scent of his cologne washed over her. His dark eyes were smoky and wide as she watched him take in the sight of her.

“You look wonderful.” He stepped closer, and Sophia gripped her bag tighter and tried to swallow the ball of fear that had lodged in her throat. He gripped his hat tighter. “I’ve been following your career.”

“Really?” The muscles in her shoulders tensed. “Why?”

“Why?” He chuckled and took one more step closer, and her throat constricted. “Sophia, you’re…” He shrugged as though brushing off a thought. “You’re very talented.”

Sophia shook her head, trying desperately to remove all thoughts of him from before—of what she’d lost. She sighed. “David, it was nice to see you. I really need to get my luggage.”

She turned from him, head up, shoulders back, and strode toward the elevator, stepping in as the door closed. She leaned her head against the back wall and closed her eyes.

How was it possible that after ten years he could stir such feelings in her? Sophia took inventory of what she was feeling. There was a surge of attraction between them. Then the anger she’d felt for years accompanied the thought of him. She’d walked out on him. His betrayal was much stronger than the attraction. It had given her purpose to make something of herself. Her success as a concert cellist sprang as much from her desire to succeed as it did from a need to escape her feelings for David.

Sophia opened her eyes when she heard the elevator doors open. The small group of others who had been aboard the plane with her stood watching the empty luggage carousel go around. Sophia waited for her cello case to arrive in the oversized luggage. It killed her to have to check the instrument, but there were no other choices. It was times like this she wondered why she didn’t play the violin. She could carry that onto the plane.

Relief flooded her as a man brought her the case. She quickly opened it and examined the instrument to assure herself it had arrived in one piece.

Her trip was to last two weeks. She’d wanted to pack only one bag, but against her better judgment, she’d packed two. When the two suitcases dropped to the carousel, she pulled them off and stacked them. One hung from the other, and she slung her carry-on over her shoulder. With a grunt, she hoisted her cello to her side. She started toward the curb to collect a cab.

Footsteps clattered on the tile floor behind her.

“Sophia.”

She wouldn’t let herself turn to see him hurrying to her.

“Let me help you.”

“I travel like this all the time. I do not need your assistance.” Her voice was cold.

“I wouldn’t be a gentleman if I didn’t offer to help a lady in need.”

“A gentleman?” He’d already taken her suitcases from her and wheeled them out to the sidewalk. “Mr. Kendal, I assure you I do not need you.”

“No, you made that perfectly clear when you disappeared and left your engagement ring in the sink.” He kept walking, forcing her to follow.

“Where are you going?” She tried to keep up with him, but his long stride kept him a hefty distance ahead of her.

He pointed off into the parking garage. “My car is parked just over here.”

“Your car?” She trotted to catch up with him. “I’m taking a cab.”

“I don’t want you in a cab in the middle of the night,” he said, unwavering from his path.

She grunted and quickened her step again.

“I don’t care what you think—”

“I know.” He darted a stare in her direction.

My “Done” List

My kids have been gone 18 days (yikes!) and in that time I have gotten a lot accomplished.

1)   I have gotten approximately 54 extra hours of sleep. That doesn’t mean I’m any less tired, but it’s definitely nothing to complain about!

2)   I’ve read and finished two books and have just started a third and fourth. Two of those books are on my “Jewish book list” and two of those are from my “summer reading list.”

3)   I completed my daughter’s elementary scrapbook. She’s going into 7th grade.

4)   I’ve made some progress in getting rid of school clutter. There’s still a nightmarish pile of school supplies in the guest room that I need to tackle (the pile fell over in the middle of the night and scared the wits out of me), but I’m procrastinating.

5)   I’ve written more than 15,000 words on two manuscripts that I’m trying to finish for October.

6)   I’ve cooked dinner almost every night—itself a major accomplishment. It’s a lot more fun to cook for adults than it is for children.

7)   I weeded my front garden. Don’t knock it; I suspect my neighbors were trying to figure out which were weeds and which were plants. I’m hopeful I pulled out the correct vegetation.

8)   I prepped my daughter’s room for the painter to repaint it. It hasn’t been redone since she was five (and the clutter I removed proves that). I would paint it myself, but then I wouldn’t have accomplished #5.

9)   I have played 19 games of Rummy Q with my husband. It’s our camp tradition and we play while we eat. I’ve beaten him eight times. He usually beats me at almost every game, so I’m improving. He’s not happy.

10)   I’ve relaxed, which, if you knew how stressed I was prior to camp, you’d fully appreciate. I know my kids are having a great time, they’re actually at camp (I assume) and I’ve decided not to worry about them until they get home.

Thirteen more days until they’re home. Time to work on the second half of my list!

It’s The Most Wonderful Time Of The Year

The kids are gone, the kids are gone, the kids are gone! Sorry, had to get the obligatory crowing out of the way.

If you read my blog regularly, you know I love my kids. If you don’t, trust me, I do. But this 3.5-week separation is essential to my family’s mental health.

The girls need the time away from us to bond with friends, develop their independence and learn to become their own selves—insert every article on the “benefits of camp” here. [image error]

My husband and I need the time away from them to remember who we are as a couple, to get things done around the house, to reminisce back to the days prior to 1999 and to just be adults. Oh, and to play our nightly Rummy-Q games (Of which I am currently the reigning champ—this NEVER happens, so please allow me time to gloat; it will be short-lived, I’m sure.)

Additionally, I need the time to be by myself in order to protect my mental health, so that by the time they return, I am calmer, more relaxed and better able to deal with them than when they left.

And of course, the extra time to myself gives me lots of time to write!

However, I’ve noticed a few things that have changed this year. For one, three of the four of us were WAY more relaxed about getting ready for camp than usual. Usually, I start getting ready in April—put away the Passover things and bring out the camp things. This year, I didn’t. The camp drawers didn’t come out of the basement until a week before the girls left. A week! For an anal person like me, that’s like…I don’t even know what that’s like! But that’s unheard of! Guess what? It was no big deal. We were shopping right up until three days before the girls left. Again, I never do that. And you know what, it was exhausting, but also not horrible. Oh, and labeling. That was done the week before. In one day. By them and me. And it got finished. Even the god-forsaken socks that multiply. Amazing!

Everyone was calm in the car on the way to camp also. Now, that could have been because we’d spent the night before at a One Direction concert, the adult ears had been blasted and no one had gotten much sleep before having to get up very early the next morning to leave. Or it could have just been that while the girls were excited, they finally figured out that bouncing in the seat and squealing will not get us to camp any faster (and may result in packed items falling on top of them—we still have not learned to “pack light”).

Because we left so early in the morning, we were one of the first ones there. Camp changed its check-in procedure, so we zoomed through everything and had two kids at different ends of camp unpacked and ready to go, with an extra return to one bunk to say last goodbyes in an hour and fifteen minutes. That’s a record. No one forgot anything, no one raced up for one last hug, no one asked us to do anything (except maybe leave a little sooner and stop taking pictures).

And now that they’re gone? Well, we’re getting a lot done around the house. And I’m writing a lot. The days are not zooming by, but are progressing at a nice, quiet pace. I miss them, but know they’re having fun, as the first letter proves.

So excuse me, but for the next 20 days, I’m going to party like it’s 1998. [image error]

 

 

 

This Is Why Words Matter

I took my daughter to my salon the other day to get her hair and nails done for her moving-up ceremony from 8th grade into high school (yes, I know most would call it a graduation, but I refuse, and that’s a blog topic for a different day). I’ve been going there for years, my parents both go there and I bring my children on important occasions.

When we were finished, I went up to the receptionist and asked how much I owed. She was young and I’d never seen her before, but she gave me an amount, which I paid. A few minutes after we arrived home, she called me.

“You forgot to pay for the nails,” she told me. I apologized and asked if it was okay if I came in the next day, since I didn’t have time to go back and to get to the ceremony in time. She said yes, and I hung up the phone.

My stomach clenched. “You forgot to pay for the nails.” Seven words. Seven words which bothered me, and still irk me today.

You see, I didn’t forget to pay for the nails. I asked how much I owed, and when she told me the amount, I assumed that it covered everything. In point of fact, she forgot to include the charge for the nails in the total charge.

Now, I’m not arguing over who forgot what. I forget things all the time. I have no problem with her forgetting something.

I do, however, have a problem with her telling me I forgot to pay for something. To me, “you forgot to pay” is a euphemism for “you snuck out without paying.” It’s what you say to someone whom you suspect tried to get away with something, but you don’t want to accuse him or her outright.

It left me with a bad taste in my mouth.

I know she doesn’t think I tried to sneak out. I suspect she doesn’t think I forgot, either. I think she made a mistake and was trying to cover for it. Maybe she’s insecure, maybe she’s embarrassed, maybe she’s afraid she’ll get fired. All of those things are understandable.

But laying the blame on someone else, even for something as trivial as this, is not right. Even when you try to couch what you say in nice terms.

It’s not always the use of nice words. Sure, nice words are better than nasty ones. But incorrect nice words can still make people feel badly, can still make them question whether or not they want to continue to be a part of something.

Truth matters. Owning up to mistakes matter. Words matter.

Welcome Back, Lila Munro!

Thank you so much for hosting me today and thank you readers for stopping by and spending a few realmantic moments with me and my latest release, Love Vindicated, Book One in the Steele Image series. It’s a pleasure to be here and if you have any questions please do leave them in the comments. I’ll be by a time or two today to check in and visit with you all.

Lila

[image error]Steele Image

In 1980, Kyle Montgomery’s life was seemingly perfect. Heavily recruited by Force Recon fresh from the Naval Academy, he’d been working black ops for the Marine Corps for six years and was on the cusp of being promoted to Major. He was on the fast track to bigger and better things, had all the right people vetting him, and he’d married the woman of his dreams and was exploring a lifestyle which could have ended his career. With the Iranian embassy under siege and the Middle East in turmoil, Kyle was sent on a mission which would change the course of his life forever.

Returning home after three months of being invisible, Kyle finds his wife has been murdered by the very people he’d been sent to protect. And instead of the government retaliating, they hand him his walking papers with the agreement they’ll never speak of the events again. It’s like Kyle never existed. His wife never existed. And the people who maimed and tortured her never existed.

Resigned to never again walk that path, Kyle opens the first Steele Image club with the thought of providing a safe haven for others like him, those who were invisible to the public and most of the government. Those who had eclectic sexual tastes. Those who would later become his allies. And his enemies. And both will drive him back to the place he’d thought he’d let go of forever to vindicate his love…

Please enjoy an excerpt:

“Are you sure you want to play with me, little one?” Kyle asked with his brow furrowed. The woman who wasn’t an inch over five feet tall by his estimation and sported one of the new trendy bi-lateral haircuts with a pink streak running through the shaved side was visibly shaking as she stood in front of him naked as the day she was born. “Fear is usually a good thing, but you’re truly scared of me aren’t you?”

“I’m not afraid, Sir,” Missy insisted, her chin jutting out and her spine becoming a bit straighter, although the flutter in her chest was evident as her breasts jiggled with each heave for breath. “I’m…excited.”

“Bullshit.” Circling her, Kyle ran his fingertips along her shoulders, down one arm, up the other, across her breast bone, and landed at the base of her throat where he wrapped his palm around it and squeezed. “You lie. And what’s the club rule about lying?”

“It won’t be tolerated, Sir. And those caught doing it will be punished.” Her voice wavered and her bright green pupils blew up just before her gaze wandered from his. “But I’m not lying. I’m not afraid of you and I am excited.”

“Tell me this.” He reached down with his free hand to twist one of her nipples and watched her jaw lock. “What do you expect from this little liaison between us?”

It wasn’t uncommon for Kyle to be approached by a half-dozen masochistic subs a week for servicing. Men, women, gay, straight, bi, confused, it didn’t matter they all seemed to migrate to him at some point which suited him. Genders, sexuality, and preferences meant nothing to him since sex wasn’t even an option when playing with them. If he needed serviced, he had no less than a dozen call girls literally on call to get him off and be gone before the sun kissed the horizon. They expected nothing but to be paid and Kyle obliged and well.

Over the course of the last year, he’d earned quite a reputation as a service sadist. He’d developed an unwavering ability to deliver and walk away without string one hanging between him and his playmate. No strings meant no intimate connections. No intimate connections meant none of them were in danger from association with him. Endangering anyone else due to his line of work was the last thing he intended to do. He didn’t need intimate connections to play and made it clear from the start of negotiations his partner shouldn’t expect them either. If they wanted more than an endorphin release, they weren’t a good match in his eyes and he either turned them down or negotiated a third be involved. All Kyle sought was an outlet by which to channel the pent up emotions he refused to allow anyone to see. He had no room for exterior feeling and expelling any notion of it by helping someone else achieve their own release made for an acceptable medium. At least that’s what he kept telling himself every time he looked in the mirror and a virtual stranger looked back.

Missy was fairly new to the club and had been introduced to Kyle and courted for membership by Wesley, the front of house security guard who’d been with him since the doors opened at Steele Image. While he’d had a few lengthy conversations with her and believed he knew enough about her to play with her, he wasn’t thoroughly convinced she was a true masochist and even thought she might be the latest in the long line of subs who foolishly believed they could tame him.

“Answer me, little one,” Kyle he said softly. “What do you expect from this?”

“Lots of pain,” she breathed over a groan and a smile as Kyle increased the pressure with which he pinched her nipple.

Purchase at:

Amazon      ARe

Lila Munro currently resides on the coast of North Carolina with her husband and their two four-legged kids. She’s a military wife with an empty nest and takes much of her inspiration for her heroes from the marines she’s lived around for the past fifteen years. Coining the term realmantica, she strives to produce quality romance in a realistic setting. Her genre of choice is contemporary romance that spans everything from the sensual softer read to BDSM and ménage. When she’s not writing, she enjoys reading everything she can get her hands on, trips to the museum and aquarium, taking field research trips, and soaking up the sun on the nearby beaches. Her works include The Executive Officer’s Wife, Bound By Trust, Three for Keeps, the Force Recon series, the Slower Lower series, the Identity series, and the Private Collection. Currently she is working on two new series set to release summer of 2013, the At Your Service line and the Steele Image line. She’s a member in good standing of RWA. Ms. Munro loves to hear from her readers and can be found at Realmantic Moments   Facebook    Goodreads   Twitter You can also contact her via email at lilasromance@gmail.com and you can find all her works at: Amazon  ARe  Nook    Bookstrand

 

Meet Lori Gordon

I’m happy to have Lori Gordon on my blog today. She’s a fellow Rebel writer. Please stop by and say hello!

What are your goals as a writer? Have you met them/How do you plan to meet them?

My goal when I started was to become published. In March 2012 Rebel Ink press fulfilled that goal for me with my first e-book Victims of Circumstance. My goal from this point is to sell enough books to become published in paperback.

How do you develop your characters?

My characters develop as I go along. I also use family and friends as references.

Do you use critique partners? Why or why not?

I have a critique partner from the SVRWA chapter. She has been very helpful. We do most of it online but occasionally meet at Starbucks.

How long have you been writing?

Six years.

Do you outline ahead of time or do you write from your head (are you a plotter or a pantser)?

By the seat of my pants all the way. My characters are in charge all the way through and often change the story I had originally thought of. They are always right! Basically I start with an idea in my mind and let them take it from there. However I do have the end in mind when I start.

What is your writing routine?

Working in the retail world I never know my schedule so I end up writing at different times. The best time for me is early morning before work. I try to do at least an hour each morning and make up the difference on my days off.

What do you do when you’re not writing?

I am a home body. I’m happy to be reading or playing with our Jack Russell Terrier, Skittles. And I spend way too much time on Facebook.

Tell me a little about yourself.

I work as a retail Supervisor for CVS Pharmacy. I’m married 23 years on July 7th. I love animals and at one point we had 3 large dogs and 2 Cats.

What are you currently working on (feel free to include a synopsis or excerpt, but please keep it PG)?

I am polishing book 3 in my Lost Night Trilogy and am self-editing a Romantic Suspense featuring the secondary characters from Victims of Circumstance.

What is your favorite guilty pleasure?

Margaritas

What is your favorite book you’ve written? Read?

My favorite I wrote is Jenny Hits the Jackpot. My favorite I’ve read is Hot Shot by Suzanna Elizabeth Phillips.

[image error]Book Two In The Lost Night Trilogy, Castle of Doom, Available in E-Book.

Blurb

The murder of her grandson, followed by the defection of her granddaughter and great grandson has Tressina Night seeking Sienna’s baby as a replacement. It made no difference to her who fathered the child, either way it was her blood. Sienna owed her and when the time was right, Tressina planned collect.

When Sienna and her mother disappear, Johnny Black faces a new threat when he tracks them to a secret base on the planet Cyrock. In his attempt to free the women he and his companions learn the real reason behind the kidnapping. Tressina wants the baby.

The family’s elaborate rescue plan falls short, leaving a wounded Johnny and his sister to save Sienna and the baby from the evil clutches of Tressina Night.

Can Johnny survive another face off with Tressina? Or will Sienna end up a childless widow?

Find out, as the Lost Night adventure continues in Castle of Doom.

Excerpt

It was about an hour before Sienna finally slept soundly enough for me to get up. Gently moving her off me, I poked her a few times to make sure she wouldn’t wake up easily. Unlike me, it didn’t take a lot to wake Sienna.

I carefully got up and found a clean shirt. Lucky for me, I’d put my pajama bottoms on when Shari’d gotten me up.

Taking one last look at Sienna, I went out through the bathroom. When I arrived at Shari’s room, she was sitting at the corner desk. “Sienna couldn’t get back to sleep,” I said looking into her teary eyes.

“I’ve tried, several more times, to reach Max. No luck.”

“Don’t try anymore,” I warned. “In case someone else has the remote.”

“It’s coded.”

“Still, we can’t take any chances.” I watched her for a second. “We need to go to Hannah. She’s the only one who can get a message off to Nicholas.” I thought for a second. “Though I’m a little surprised he and Chandra haven’t heard anything. We need to see Hannah.” I decided.

Shari grabbed my arm. “No. We mustn’t tell anyone.”

“Shari, perhaps Hannah’s already heard something from Nicholas…”

“We can’t risk it.”

“Shari…”

“Johnny, we have to go.”

“Go? Go where?” I asked, feeling the knot tighten in my stomach. Was she actually suggesting we go to Cyrock without telling anyone? I gasped. “Shari, no. That’s the last thing the two of us should do.”

“We have to save them…Max and your daughter. It’s up to us to get them out.”

I glared at her. “First, we’re not sure they need saving and second, what makes you think we can save them?”

Shari looked at me with a fire in her eyes I’d never seen before.

“Johnny, we can. We have to.”

Taken back a bit by her strength I thought Max had done wonders for her self-confidence. She turned her back to me. “I didn’t have to come to you. I could’ve just stolen a ship and headed for Cyrock alone.”

I turned her around. “You’re starting to scare me. Why are you so afraid of anyone else finding out? We’re a family now. You’re a part of it now and in this family we trust each other.”

“You know, if we tell them, they won’t let us go. Sienna’d never stay here and if we all showed up in the Lightning Bolt they’d see us coming.” She shook her head rapidly. “I don’t think it would faze Tressina for one second if something should suddenly happen to your baby. Max means even less to her.”

She was frustrating me. “Shari, you haven’t given me any proof that my daughter or Max needs us to go running off to Cyrock. At least let me talk to Hannah and see what I can learn.”

Shari sighed loudly. “Do what you must, Johnny. But so will I.”

Purchase at

Amazon, Are, and Barnes&Noble (Nook)

Contact Lori J Gordon

http://www.ljgordon.com

http://www.ljgordon.wordpress.com

Facebook Lori Gordon (https://www.facebook.com/authorljgordon#)

Twitter Gordon_writer