Jessica Scott's Blog, page 24

Guest Author Elyssa Patrick

I’m super excited to have debut author Elyssa Patrick here on the blog today. If you weren’t already aware, she’s the genius behind the names of my Loveswept novels and she’s an incredibly talented author. We’re here today to talk about her debut novel AS YOU WISH which features a rock star hero! As a child of the 80s, I have a serious thing for rock stars.

Thanks, Jessica, for the interview and having me on your blog!

Tell us a little about Elyssa Patrick and your book AS YOU WISH.

Here’s my official bio: Elyssa Patrick is a former high school English teacher who left the classroom to write fun, sexy, and emotional contemporary romances. Besides being slightly addicted to chocolate, she loves cupcakes, classic movies, and Shakespeare. She is a member of RWA. Elyssa lives in New York, where she is currently working on her next novel.

You decided to self published AS YOU WISH. What were some of the factors that went into this decision? Were there any authors you looked to for advice and guidance as you went through the process?

I ultimately decided to self-publish because I had read and absolutely loved Tammara Webber’s EASY. Seriously, if you haven’t read this amazing New Adult, do so right now! And I was reading through the backlog of Tammara’s blogs and I came across a post where she first announced she was going to self-publish. She said something that resonated with me—that she just wanted to write and get her books out there—and I thought, well, I want that, too, and I can do it.

And also I’ve been faced with a lot of rejection in the last few years and I just wanted to take this chance on myself. If I failed, I failed. But at least I would know.

Yes, there were many authors I looked to for advice. But the main ones that were so helpful to me were Courtney Milan, Gwen Hayes, and Julianna Stone.

You’ve been active in the online community for a while before you decided to publish. How do you think that shaped your decision?

It didn’t shape my decision at all. I just enjoy being social on Twitter where I can talk about books and interact with people that I like.

There are so many options out there for authors these days. What would you tell another author thinking of seeking publication, either through traditional press or indie?

Every author is so different and what works for me won’t work for another. I would just encourage any author to put out the best product she can and to focus on the next book.

What’s the biggest thing you’ve learned from this whole process?

I’ve learned HTML, which I didn’t think I could do. So I felt very accomplished when I did learn that, but it wouldn’t have been possible without the help of Courtney or Gwen.

What can we expect next from Elyssa Patrick?

A novella called One Hit Wonder that will be out Spring 2013. It’s basically: When his personal assistant quits, this once famous pop singer will do anything to make her stay. Think: Two Weeks Notice meets Music & Lyrics.

There’s a brief excerpt in the back of the ebook of AS YOU WISH.

Blurb for AS YOU WISH:

Love doesn’t always follow the sheet music . . .



This Christmas, Portia Jackson needs a miracle to save her family’s generations-old florist shop. What she gets instead is a car that breaks down during a blizzard. Help arrives unexpectedly when the infamous Aubry Riley pulls over. She only expects him to drive her to the gas station . . . she never expects that kiss. But Portia lives in the real world—she knows this is only a holiday fling for Aubry. Except it doesn’t feel so temporary, and the last thing she wants is a broken heart.

Sometimes you have to sing some different notes . . .



Rock star Aubry Riley has no secrets. Thanks to the media, everyone knows about his troubled past. Six years have gone by since his world crashed, and now he’s ready for a comeback. But first he needs to reconcile with his family—starting with his six-year-old daughter. A month-long vacation at a Vermont lake house affords him the perfect opportunity to take a step in the right direction. He doesn’t need any other emotional entanglements, especially not with the bright-eyed florist he can’t stop thinking about. But no matter how hard he tries to resist her, he can’t. Now all he has to do is to convince Portia that there is nothing temporary when it comes to love.

Website: http://elyssapatrick.blogspot.com/

Twitter: @elyssapatrick



Buy links:

Kindle: http://www.amazon.com/As-You-Wish-ebo...

Nook: http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/as-yo...

Kobo: http://www.kobobooks.com/ebook/As-You...

ARe: https://www.allromanceebooks.com/prod...#

Guest Author Elisabeth Barrett + Giveaway

I first met Elisabeth online as one of the so called 3 Musketeers. She was the nice musketeer and when I finally had the opportunity to meet her at RWA, I quickly learned why. Elisabeth is one of the funniest people I know and she had me in stitches the entire time at RWA. I’m thrilled to have her here today in support of her newest release BLAZE OF WINTER.

Communicating … or not. By Elisabeth Barrett

I am thrilled to be back on Jessica Scott’s awesome blog! As you may recall, last time I was here, I talked about my love of Pride and Prejudice, and how that influenced the hero in my first book, Deep Autumn Heat. At the time I wrote that post, I’d spoken with Jessica by phone, but had not yet met her in person. All of that changed when we were introduced at RWA, the big national conference for Romance Writers. She was so tall, so glamorous, and so very military!

Given the fact that Jessica is an Army Captain and I’m a civilian, we sometimes had trouble communicating, although not for lack of trying! I am mindful that Jessica will appear on my blog in October to promote Until There Was You, and might retaliate reciprocate the favor, here’s an example of a typical conversation we had during RWA:

Jessica: When I was in the TOC downrange, our command & staffs kept getting in the way of my PT.

Me: I’m terribly sorry to interrupt, but could you please define all of your acronyms and terms of art?

Jessica: What didn’t you understand?

Me: Well, everything, but let’s start with what TOC stands for.

Jessica: A tactical operation center.

Me: And downrange is…

Jessica:
When we’re in combat.

Me: And a command & staff? What is that?

Jessica: A meeting where staff syncs with commanders.

Me: Ah. And PT is?

Jessica: Physical training. Did you really not know that?

Me: Why would I know that?

Jessica:

Me: So, roughly translated, that means that when you were in your remote office while deployed, you were displeased that you had to attend so many organizational meetings because it impeded your ability to exercise.

Jessica: Yes.

Me: Ok, I get it. You can go on now.

Jessica: Great. Thanks.

Our conversations got me thinking about communication, and about my latest novel, Blaze of Winter, which features Theo Grayson, a novelist of swashbuckling adventures, who returns to Star Harbor to work on his latest book. When he meets Avery Newbridge, a guarded social worker who is helping out her Aunt Kate at the Star Harbor Inn, he knows she’s something special. But she’s working through her own issues, and isn’t open to a relationship with Theo. It’s up to Theo to show Avery that he’s the man for her—for now, and for always.

There are a few scenes in the book where one character speaks, and although the other understands the words, he/she still doesn’t get the message. As a novelist, Theo’s business is words, and he is more than clear about his desire for Avery. But Avery repeatedly ignores, sidesteps, or deliberately misinterprets him, preferring to hide from her feelings instead of confronting them. I love the scene where Theo, who hasn’t made much headway by talking, uses non-verbal means to show Avery how much he likes her, eventually succeeding in getting her to reciprocate:

“But you’re not giving it a chance.”

“I don’t go for players. Or for guys who hide what they do,” she weakly protested.

“I’m not a player, and I didn’t hide what I do.” At least, not deliberately. “Anyway, it’s not like you should talk. You’ve been hiding from me all week.”

“I had things to deal with,” she said, setting her mouth into a straight line.

“Let me help you with your stuff.”

She shook her head. “I have to do it alone.”

“Then let me help you with this.” He ran a thumb over her soft lips.

“I d-don’t want you,” she said, but her lower lip trembled.

His eyes warmed. “Oh, you do.” He bent his head until his mouth was nearly touching hers, but he didn’t span that small distance. It took all his considerable willpower not to seal his mouth to hers, to show her exactly how hot she made him. But this time she needed to be the one to come to him. “Tell me to go away.

Tell me you don’t want me again,” he whispered. “Just say it and I’ll leave you alone for good.”

Her gaze wavered and she closed her eyes. “I can’t,” she whispered back.

“Then kiss me like you know you want to.”

The words hung between them, like a thick cloud of steam hovering over a grate. Then, tentatively, fractionally, she tipped her head up.

By the end of the novel, Theo finally breaks through Avery’s defenses and they are able to communicate, using language she truly comprehends. Cue happy ending!

And as for me and Jessica, well, I think we’re on the right track, too. She talks, and I just keep asking her to clarify or translate into civilian-speak. Win-win, right?

One commenter will be randomly selected to win a NetGalley preview of BLAZE OF WINTER. Contest ends September 14th at midnight (EDT).You’ll need a NetGalley account, and to leave a comment answering this question: Has there ever been a time when you’ve had a miscommunication? How did you resolve it?

About Blaze of Winter:

Winter heats up in this hot new Star Harbor romance, as another sexy Grayson brother, a wickedly handsome writer, plots his happily ever after with a sweet stranger.

Frustrated with her job in Boston, social worker Avery Newbridge welcomes the opportunity to reassess her life when family asks her to help manage the Star Harbor Inn. Trying to figure out her future is overwhelming enough, but she doesn’t count on distraction in the form of one Theo Grayson, the gorgeous, green-eyed author who she knows is trouble from the moment he saunters into the inn.

Not only does he have a talent for writing swashbuckling adventures, but Theo also has a soft spot for big-hearted damsels in distress, especially a woman who’s great at helping everyone—except herself. Avery’s demons challenge him, but for desire this hot, he isn’t backing down. With every kiss and heated whisper Theo promises her his heart . . . if only Avery is willing to open up and accept it.

View an excerpt of Blaze of Winter on Scribd: Click here.

Order Blaze of Winter: Amazon, Barnes & Noble, or the iBookstore (Apple)!

About Elisabeth:

Raised in a sleepy little Connecticut town, Elisabeth draws on her upbringing to write small-town romances. Her summers spent living and working on Cape Cod and Martha’s Vineyard were the inspiration for the Star Harbor series, which kicked off with Deep Autumn Heat and continues with Blaze of Winter. Currently, Elisabeth lives in Northern California with her husband and three children. She still doesn’t know what a QTB is. Find her online: Website | Blog | Facebook | Twitter | Goodreads

BLAZE OF WINTER by Elisabeth Barrett

Let Them Be Entertained

At the risk of sounding like a bloviated douche bag, I’m going to expound a little on my frustration. Also, am going to clarify that I am just as much of a hypocrite as the next guy/gal.

I’m a fan of entertainment. I believe whole heartedly that the human heart must have a release from the daily stresses of our lives. The entertainment industry – of which as a writer I am part of – serves a need to help us forget, if only for a moment, that which weighs us down.

I freely admit to enjoying shopping and makeup and other frivolous pursuits as much as the next person. I spend an inordinate amount of time reading my twitter feed on my iPhone (ask anyone who has worked with me). And I am a huge Apple fan.

I freely admit that I am a hypocrite. I am just as much a part of the problem as the next person.

But that does not stop me from getting frustrated when people refuse to consider the broad reaching ramifications of the events in the Middle East. It’s maddening to me that there are as many people calling for another war as there are salivating over the next iProduct.

Because the fires burning in the Middle East don’t affect the average person. The banking crisis that spawned a global economic meltdown escapes most people. The problems facing our world are complex and I fully admit to turning it off sometimes because it’s too damn depressing. The war in Iraq and Afghanistan are so easily forgotten because most people aren’t affected by it. They don’t *have* to care.

But when the be all and end all of our life is the next iproduct? When it is easier to throw around talk of war than it is to get health insurance? When one of our ambassadors is murdered, we still focus on the next ithing? What the hell is wrong with us that this is what we consume? A steady diet of junk news does not make us capable of engaging in national discourse, local discourse or any type of discourse about whether or not some pop star had a boob job.

Folks, I love our country, for all it’s good and it’s bad. But I’m so frustrated by our lack of real discussion about issues, our lack of comprehensive understanding of real problems, not paper targets made up to get people – like me – wound up about birth control when we’ve got bigger problems.

Dude, go buy your iPhone. Escape and unplug for a little while. Everyone is entitled to do that. Don’t feel guilty about it.

But don’t use it to call for a war that you’re not going to fight and that you’re not willing to raise taxes to pay for.

Thoughts on Taxes

My dad had a heart attack last week. He’s been in the hospital for about a week. He’s going to have quintuple bypass surgery.

He doesn’t have insurance.

I’m sitting here now listening to the hospital advocate talk to him about Maine Care and how he’s going to pay for the surgery and the follow up care.

I’ve never really had a problem paying taxes. The one thing I never had a problem paying for is medical programs. I know there are lots of people who do have problems paying for people who don’t have insurance. Fuck em, right? Not your problem.

Except that now it’s personal. Now it’s not some random stranger sitting in a bed that I never see, that I never know their name. Now it’s my dad.

My dad has worked every day of his life. He’s been healthy until right now. Hell, his goal in life was to drop dead in the woods. He’s going somewhat crazy sitting in the hospital.

There are some who argue tough shit. No insurance, why should I foot the bill for him. Valid point, honestly. Why should you pay for someone you don’t know who didn’t have his own insurance. That’s not your fault and it’s not your responsibility.

You’re right. It’s not.

But just maybe, medical treatment isn’t something we should be arguing about. Maybe a parent shouldn’t be sitting in a hospital worrying about lifetime caps on treatment. Maybe a daughter shouldn’t be sitting in a hospital worry about how her dad is going to pay for a surgery that may save his life. Maybe a father shouldn’t be worrying whether the insurance company gets to say no to a treatment that could save his son’s life.

Maybe it doesn’t matter. Maybe those of you who say fuck em are right. It’s not your problem.

I only hope you never have to sit where I am right now.

Good Order and Discipline

I sent a soldier home from the army today with an Other Than Honorable Discharge. He’d been AWOL for almost 2 years and had been Dropped From Rolls before he’d ever reported to the unit.

He came back because he was arrested in Florida and had a federal warrant. He came back, he did his time, he was always where he needed to be when he needed to be there. I chose to separate him under a Chapter 10 because he didn’t even come back when he was supposed to.

He made poor choices. He’s no longer a soldier. This should not be a difficult decision and yet, it is weighing on me. Heavily.

Here’s where I’m struggling. As a commander, I must ensure good order and discipline. Soldiers have to follow the orders of the officers and NCOs appointed over them. That’s just the way it goes in the Army. You don’t get the option to obey.

We said farewell to this young soldier today. And that Other Than Honorable Discharge is going to stick with him. It may keep him from getting a job and overcoming his mistakes.

These are the things that keep me up at night. Did I make the right decision for my unit, for the Soldier and for the Army. This is more than what the Army pays me to do – it is expected of me to make the tough decisions.

These are not easy decisions. Because if the little things – and arguably going AWOL for 2 years is not a little thing – are allowed to slide, then we end up with bigger “things”.

Since becoming a commander, I’ve always had such a certainty of purpose. That I knew what the right thing was. Sometimes, I had to talk through to get to the right thing but when it comes down to it, I knew what I had to do. It didn’t bother me. I can’t change the decision I made and yet, I find myself struggling with these decisions as new situations develop.

I guess I need to backtrack and start at my end state.

What is the desired goal?

How do I get there? What are the different avenues that will still get to the correct end state where we have a unit that is functioning with good order and discipline?

I love being a commander. But sometimes, the right thing to do isn’t clear cut.

Ask for Help

In 2009, I deployed away from my children for a year combat tour in Iraq. I wanted nothing more than to come home and have their little arms wrap around my neck. I yearned for it with everything I was.


And then I came home.

Coming home was so much harder than I ever imagined. There were food battles because my oldest wouldn’t eat. There were epic tantrums from both of us trying to get her to eat.


There were short tempers and slammed doors. There were hurt feelings and bad thoughts.

There were days that I am ashamed to admit I wanted to be back in Iraq. Where the laundry wasn’t piled up, where the kids weren’t screaming, where there wasn’t dog shit in the middle of the living room.

I tried to smile. I tried to handle everything. I waited for things to get better.

They did not get better.

At some point, after my fourth or fifth month of riding to work, crying my eyes out because the kids were screaming when I left them at daycare at 530 every morning, I walked into my commander’s office. I said, Sir, I need to go home. I just need to clean my house.

I went home. And I cleaned my house. But that didn’t make it better. I was the executive officer. I couldn’t let things fall apart. And yet, my life, the life I’d yearned to go back home to, was falling apart.

I remember the day I decided enough was enough. I couldn’t fix my kids if I was a disaster. I couldn’t run my family if I was crying every day on my way to work.

I asked for help. I started talking to someone who told me that life back here gets overwhelming.

Yes, I took medication. I was afraid. I didn’t want it in my records. I didn’t want to trigger a mental health evaluation. But I needed help. Because I was not okay.

Slowly, things started getting better. I can still remember the first time I was relaxed enough to laugh with my kids. I’d forgotten how to laugh with them. It was like a light came on in my soul, a light that had been doused in darkness.

Things slowly started gettting better. One day at a time. Little by little.

It’s been almost three years since I came home from war. I no longer need the medication. I don’t have to talk to anyone on a regular basis. But I had a good friend who had gone through some of her own stuff tell me that sometimes, it’s okay to not be okay sometimes.

I tell you this story to say that even though someone might look like they have it all together, maybe they don’t. Or maybe they had to walk through hell to get there. I won’t tell you I ever thought about ending it all but there were some pretty dark days when I couldn’t see the light any more.

Please, ask for help. Don’t let the darkness when you’re sitting at the bottom of the well drag you under. There is daylight out there. You have to fight for it. You have to believe there is a way out of the well.

All I’m saying is ask for help. And don’t stop asking until you get it. It takes so much more strength and courage to ask for help than to suck it up and drive on. Eventually, that ruck sack gets stuffed too full of the bad. Start unpacking it before it gets too heavy and drags you down.

It’s suicide prevention month for the Army. Let’s all help shoulder the load of our brothers and sisters who are going through tough times. And if you can’t, if you need someone to help share the load, find someone. Call a chaplain, call a MFCL. Call your squad leader, your commander, you battle buddy.

But don’t give up the fight. Ask for help.

these are my own words and thoughts and do not represent DoD or US army policy

Guest Author Debra Webb + Giveaway

[image error]I’m happy to have Debra Webb on the blog today talking about her Colby agency series and her brand new endeavor Faces of Evil.

CREATING A SERIES

In July of this year the 50th book in the Colby Agency series I do for Harlequin Intrigue was released. As you can see I love series. And though I love the Colbys I yearned to do something bigger and more deadly. With that in mind I launched a brand new endeavor called the Faces of Evil series. Sounds creepy, doesn’t it? The concept came to me several years ago (at the time it was entitled the Scales of Justice). I wanted to create a scale of evil and write a series focused on that scale beginning with the least heinous of deeds. Mind you, the least heinous of those evils doesn’t exactly equate to light or vanilla when it comes to bad. Even the lowest level of evil can include murder. The seemingly nicest person can snap or be pushed into a situation and end up committing murder. Where that act fits in terms of depravity is all in the motive.

[image error]Jess Harris, formerly a special agent with the FBI, can tell you a little about evil.

Any act of evil committed by one or more persons against another is driven by motive. Every motive tells a unique personal story, painting a vivid picture that reveals the dark inner nature hidden beneath the image presented for the world to see. All of us possess a basic goodness, but we each also harbor the potential for evil. The choice not to cross that moral line ultimately separates the good from the bad. For those who cross that line life’s journey is forever altered. Where that journey begins and how far one drifts into the depths of depravity is fueled by desire and desperation. Some plummet directly into the deepest, blackest recesses of that hungry abyss. Others linger near that thin line, clinging to a rapidly unraveling thread of goodness while the darkness seduces them closer and closer until the thread snaps and evil is born.

Something else Jess points out is that expert opinions differ on the idea of whether serial killers are born or are made but the one point they all agree on is that neither Charles Manson nor Ed Gein were serial anything until that first act of evil was committed.

Once I found myself in the right place to begin the series, I realized that motive was indeed the foundation for what I wanted to do and where I wanted to go. Originally, the concept was more focused on solving the case and finding justice. As I fleshed out the series I realized it was the motives that intrigued me the most. The impetus for the crime and the differences between the truly heinous villain and the heinous act committed by your average, everyday person.

Eventually the main protagonists emerged. Jess Harris in the midst of personal and professional crises. Dan Burnett, the seemingly has it all guy who has never faced personal or professional hardship. Jess and Dan have two things in common: the relentless determination to ensure justice and the smoldering desire to have what they seem to have lost—each other.

With the main protagonists on page, I needed a compelling ensemble cast. Sergeants Chet Harper and Lori Wells showed up on the scene. Both hardworking, dedicated detectives. Each with their own personal and professional baggage. Other members of the team seemed to create themselves. Once I started, they came to me in a rush.

Then came the hard part, developing the stories. Each one had to feature a crime and a villain more heinous than the last. The idea sort of propelled me back to square one. After all, murder is murder, right? Not really. We’re back to motive again. That made my job a lot less difficult. The focus had to be on the motive of the crime and how that same motive resonated through every level of the story.

Once the plot line of the crimes was established, what about the relationships of the characters? Again, I turned to motive and the one thing in life none of us can escape—human nature. Humans make mistakes. They celebrate victories and mourn defeats. They have desires and hopes and needs. All I had to do was ensure my characters were infinitely human and the rest would take care of itself.

Jess and Dan have a long history. They were high school sweethearts. In their forties now, they have a lot more living to do and a lot of decisions to make. There are opportunities to right wrongs in their careers and in their personal lives. The journey won’t always be easy, but they have twelve books to get it right! If you haven’t already gotten your copy of OBSESSION and IMPULSE, the first two books in the Faces of Evil series, I hope you will. Both are available as ebooks from Forever Yours wherever ebooks are sold. POWER, book three, was just released as an ebook and Jess is working hard to find her place as Birmingham PD’s newest deputy chief! RT Book Reviews magazine gave POWER four and a half stars and said: Jess Harris doesn’t have to go looking for trouble–it finds her. Jess is one of the toughest, smartest, most stubborn lady cops to strut the pages lately, but Webb’s given her just enough vulnerability to keep her likable. This third entry in the Faces of Evil series is a hard-to-put-down police procedural with pitch-perfect voice, well-developed characters and a setting that is as much a part of the cast as the protagonists.

I hope you’ll check out my new Faces of Evil series and the website www.thefacesofevil.com.

Tell me what makes a great series to you and one lucky commenter will win a digital copy of the first three Faces of Evil books!

Terrified of Screwing Up Again

So a few months ago, I sent out my newsletter. I’d been trying to manage it myself and had been using things like rafflecopter contests to build it. I’d been using bento to manage it and had somehow managed to pull in a bunch of my contacts from Facebook, my address book and yahoo all into the mailing list.

I sent it out.

And received some pretty scathing notices demanding to be unsubscribed, that it was illegal what I’d done and that I was a horrible person and they would never, ever buy my book.

Dude, I screwed up. I succumbed to what Courtney Milan aptly described as Number Fever, wanting more numbers thinking more was better.

I scrubbed the mailing list, pulling everyone I thought I knew, everyone who didn’t have a specific opt in next to it. I culled that sucker down and then I hired Writerspace to manage it for me because heaven knows I did not want to do that again. I can’t really afford to hire a publicity company but I did it because it’s better to prevent another massive screw up again.

Except that I can’t get those emails out of my head. They’re stuck there on vicious repeat. Maybe that’s my punishment for making such a heinous mistake. Maybe I should have slowed down and hired someone from the get go.

Instead, I have burned bridges, been blocked on twitter, unfriended on Facebook. It’s the modern equivalent of shunning. And the worst part is that it is stuck in my damn head. All because I screwed up.

I deserve that. Hell, I should have known better. Except that my next newsletter is getting ready to go out next month with the release of my next book. What if I missed someone? What if I spam someone who already told me what a horrible person I am for adding them to my newsletter? What if I ruin someone’s entire day because they’re on my mailing list and they never opted in?

I’m scrubbing it again. I want to double and triple check it. Hell half of me wants to throw the whole thing out and start over. I only want people on it who want to be there. I get emails from authors all the time. I have no idea how my name got added to their email list. But I recognize the urgency, the need to do more. And I can empathize with it. But I don’t want to repeat it.

What I really want though is to really win one of those Microsoft spam lotteries or have that Nigerian prince send me a bucket of money. That would be awesome.

But instead, I’m just hoping my list is clean.

Romance at Random Labor Day Hop + Giveaway

It’s just a little bit over 1 month away from the release of my 2nd book UNTIL THERE WAS YOU and to celebrate, I’m blog hopping with Romance at Random.

a Rafflecopter giveaway

Enter to win a digital ARC of UNTIL THERE WAS YOU. Check out this sneak peak below and enter the UNTIL THERE WAS YOU Preorder sweepstakes!

ENTER TO WIN THE GRAND PRIZE OF A KINDLE FIRE OR A NOOK COLOR!

HOW TO ENTER:

To enter the contest, forward your email receipt of purchase of UNTIL THERE WAS YOU to “contest@jessicascott.net” . Entries must be received by OCTOBER 7, 11:59pm EST.

a Rafflecopter giveaway

Evan winced and shifted his assault pack to the opposite shoulder as he studied the only woman in the room wearing a military uniform. Glancing at the other woman’s name tag as he approached, he recognized Captain Sarah Anders, the support company commander. But Evan couldn’t take his eyes off Claire. A woman who ate napalm and pissed razor wire and inspired Evan to want to throttle her every time they were in the same room together.

An officer who could not spell doctrine if it was stapled to her forehead.

A woman he could barely be in the same room with without watching her body move, without wondering if she was as wild in the bedroom as she was on the battlefield.

He stopped and looked down at her where she sat, next to the massive fireplace in the center of the lodge with the support company commander. “Why are you in uniform?” His words came out too sharp, but then again, what else was new.

Claire raised both eyebrows. “I’m working, ergo I’m in uniform,” she said. “Is there a problem with that?”

“You’re in a civilian ski lodge, off-post, after duty. You should be in civilian clothes.”

She smiled coldly. “That’s rich, coming from you. You’ve practically got ‘Duty, Honor, Country’ tattooed on your ass.”

Evan sighed and shifted his pack to the other shoulder. “Fine. Sleep in your damn uniform if you want.”

“What crawled up your ass?” she said. “You’re not usually this charming until day four of a field problem.”

“Never mind. Forget I said anything.” Evan sighed hard. “I have more important things to do on this mission than argue with you.”

“I would have thought you had more important things to do in, oh, say, Iraq but you still managed to argue with me all the time over there.”

He pinned Claire with a deadpan look. “Are you trying to piss me off?”

She smiled sweetly. “I don’t actively have to try, now do I?”

“Okay, well, you two obviously have some catching up to do.” Sarah stood and Evan shifted to let her by. “Claire, call me tomorrow?”

Evan watched as Claire stood and hugged the other woman. An odd sensation caught in his throat at the genuine emotion on Claire’s face. She looked soft and appealing, in a way he had forced himself not to notice. He stared at her for a long moment before he caught himself and roughly cleared his throat.

“I need to run through the plan with you,” Evan said. Claire looked like she was about to argue but she didn’t say anything. “But I need some coffee first. Can we go to the restaurant?”

“Sure, I could use a refill,” she said.

Wary of the sudden truce, he followed her back to a quiet corner, wishing he didn’t notice the way her hips moved. There was an aching familiarity about seeing her in uniform. As though he’d been missing it—missing her, which was ridiculous. He didn’t even like her, let alone miss her.

He supposed it was just part of the transition of coming home. Every single time he returned from a deployment, he went through a period during which he wanted nothing more than to be back with the team he’d been with downrange. Seeing Claire in uniform fed the need for the familiar he’d found himself longing for since he’d been back from this most recent trip to the sandbox. Being around her was comforting, even if it was Claire.

He let himself wonder if she ever wore her hair down. He hadn’t seen it down since the first night they’d met. Was it still long, or had she cut it? It was a beautiful color—dark, dark red, halfway between copper and deep cherry.

He’d long ago come to think of Claire Montoya as all hard angles and sharp edges. Prickly. But with her head tipped forward and her hair starting to come loose at the back of her neck, she looked . . . soft. Soft and—dear lord, was he about to think desirable?

Holy hell, he needed to get some sleep if he was going to keep this little obsession under control.

The waitress saved him from any further awkward thoughts. Evan ordered a coffee, and then flipped open his files. “So let me ask you this,” he said, pulling out a timeline. “What’s your assessment of the unit? Are they prepared?”

“They’re a brand-new brigade. More than half the soldiers have never deployed and Sarah’s company, sadly, is just as inexperienced as they are. Hell, Sarah hasn’t deployed since ’04, right before her husband died. The war has changed so much since then. So the long answer to your short question is no, they’re not prepared.” Claire’s eyes darkened, the strain showing in the tension in her neck. He looked down at his coffee as she continued to sift through his files. “There is not enough time for all this,” she said, her movements stiff and jerky, and he caught the slightest tremble of her fingers. She set the papers down, picking up a sugar packet.

She sipped her coffee and set the cup down abruptly, pulling out a folded sheet of paper from her notebook and drawing his attention there. “Look at the timeline. It’s filled with things we don’t need to waste time on. We don’t have time for this stupid bonfire tonight. We need to get these guys on the range and start training as soon as possible.”

He recognized the gesture for what it was: an attempt to shift the conversation away from the worry for her friend to something she could control. He tapped the paper in front of her. “I take it we didn’t manage to get out of the bonfire?” He wondered if she would be changing out of her uniform for the evening, and then mentally slapped himself for falling down that rabbit hole again.

“No, we didn’t, and I resent the hell out of glad-handing and ass-kissing when we could be training.”

Evan sipped his coffee silently, watching her try to rein in her emotions.

“The platoon leaders brief their mission plans to the brigade commander the day after tomorrow, and the next day we start training. They don’t have enough tents, though, so they’re sleeping in their motor pools to simulate small forward operating bases in the cities. We’re back in the hotel every night instead of sleeping in the field like we normally would on a mission like this.” Her voice lowered, dark and husky and filled with unsaid things.

“Are they ready for the inspections to start?”

“The fact that these inspections are another stupid waste of time notwithstanding, no, they’re not ready. But we’re starting tomorrow, regardless.” She blew out a hard, frustrated breath. “If I were running this damn thing, I’d skip all the useless PowerPoint briefings and go straight to running missions. Training isn’t something you talk about, it’s something you do.”

A spark of passion lit her eyes when she spoke about training. Her intensity sparked a latent energy inside him, twisting in his belly. His lips curled into a faint answering smile as it dawned on him—she got a charge out of training. Call it an adrenaline boost or a combat high, but Claire didn’t just enjoy what she did, she loved it. Her eyes were dark and aroused, her body keyed up. It was singularly the most stunning change he’d ever seen in a woman.

“What?” she asked.

“The army. You really love it.”

Claire smiled, the first real smile he’d seen on her lips since their team had arrived in Colorado. “Yeah. I do.”

It wasn’t her hot temper or her fierce beauty that drew him. It was something else. A barely contained fire, a spark on the edge of a pool of gasoline, waiting for a gust of wind to ignite the world around her. And the reaction it caused in him was no less intense. No less fierce.

He shifted uncomfortably, then cleared his throat. The sound pulled her attention from the agenda and made her look up. She shifted the paper, and he gripped the edge to angle it so he could see it better. His fingers slid against hers, and he froze. She looked up, their fingers still touching, her green eyes darkening. Then she swallowed and pulled her fingers free from his touch.

This was not the woman he knew—the wildfire, out-of-control officer he was used to seeing in the tactical operations center. That woman made snap judgments and spoke before engaging her brain. This woman was restrained. Tense. This was new, a side of Claire that Evan had never seen before.

Her gaze met his, hesitant.

“What are you doing?” Her voice was thick, edgy and filled with a wariness that made his heart flip in his chest.

“Listening to your brief.” His voice sounded off to his own ears, harsh and rough.

“You haven’t heard a word I’ve said.” She leaned back in the booth and stared at him, a sharp, hunted expression in her eyes. “Don’t look at me like that.”

“Like what?”

Silence hung over them, awkward and cold. She said nothing, and he could see her searching for the right words, fighting the edge of panic. “Like you’re looking to start rumors. Captain America doesn’t sleep with members of his team, remember? Violates some superhero code or something.”

“I wasn’t planning on sleeping with anyone, let alone with you,” he said dryly.

She laughed out loud and just like, that, the tension snapped and fizzled into an almost comfortable silence. “Well played, Captain America. Well played.” She paused then. “Do you have any issues with this training plan?”

He studied the chart that outlined the key measures of success for the convoy operations. After a long moment, he glanced up at her. Shadows fell across her face, casting it in a soft, subtle glow. “No. The timeline sucks, but the convoy stuff is a good plan.”

“All right, that does it,” she snapped.

“What?”

“You’ve never said ‘good job’ to me on anything. Why are you suddenly signing off on this without an argument? What’s wrong with you?”

He stared at the simmering anger reflected in her features, his body tightening at a sudden, vibrant image of Claire rising above him, her body glorious as her hips spread over his. It slid through his veins insidiously, taunting him with Claire and suddenly so much more. No more tight hair and harsh angles. Lush hips and full, heavy breasts and wild, unrestrained passion.

Claire the woman, not Claire the soldier.

“Nothing.” Abruptly, Evan pushed away from the table and walked from the room. He had no idea where this massive error in judgment was coming from, but there was no way in hell he was attracted to someone like Claire.

Except that he was. And it shook him to the core of his soul to admit he had been from first time he’d first met her. He’d just spent every waking moment denying it since then.

It unnerved him to think Claire was suddenly more than a woman in uniform. He didn’t date army women. He didn’t bring many women into his life or his bed, and invariably, they left, and it was always the same story. He was cold. He was distant. He was too rigid, too controlled.

Maybe that was true. But it hadn’t mattered to him until now.

What he saw when he looked at Claire was a dark and primitive being. It was Evan surrendering to the wild need burning inside him.

You can preorder UNTIL THERE WAS YOU at these ebookstores or wherever ebooks are sold!

B & N | Amazon | Powell’s

My Workflow Sucks

If you know me, you know that I am a somewhat chaotic person (I can hear all of my former lieutenants laughing as we speak). Back in the day before I’d tried to gadget=ify (I know that’s not a word but work with me here) I used to carry around a notebook and write everything down. But what I discovered is that I no longer check my notebook any more because I’m expecting things to be on my calendar.

Understanding that there is a ton of information that cross my fingertips every day, I’ve tried to come up with systems that enable me to keep track of things. My new S3 is an officer after my own heart because he puts EVERYTHING on the Outlook calendar. Not only that but he copies and pasts in the information from the order into the Outlook event so there is no hunting for the information when it’s due.

Which is awesome. For work.

My home life – you know the one where I pretend to be a fully functioning writer/adult/parent/wife is not quite the same. I tried to do lists. They don’t work because they require that I go into an app to see what I’m supposed to do. I’ve tried my iphone’s reminders. I don’t like it because I have to add my grocery story to my contacts which are already screwed up enough in order for the app to remind me to pick up eggs.

I settled on leaving emails unread when they still require action. Which was sort of working until yesterday when chaos struck. Exhibit A: my blog tour.

What I’d been doing is once I scheduled a stop, I would leave the email unread until I a, added it to my calendar, b, added it to the tour page on my blog and c, completed the post for said tour. When adding it to my calendar, I titled the event Blogging at XX location, regardless of whether it was a guest post, an interview or something in between. Which then created the problem of me not remembering what I’d scheduled.

Except that yesterday I realized that I not only hadn’t done all the posts like I thought I had, I’d also failed to keep track of all the places I was stopping. Which then saw me emailing everyone who I thought I’d coordinated with and asking if I’d sent in what I owed them. Thankfully, I didn’t miss any dates but I still felt terrible because I’d scheduled this stuff – some of these events months ago – and now I couldn’t remember and thus had to bother people who were being incredibly supportive.

Which brought me back to full circle to literally sitting down and writing down every stop on the blog tour I’d coordinated for and checking my blog tour folder on my computer to see if I had a post named after the blog and if I did, checking it off and if I didn’t firing off an email to check in.

Crude. Primitive. 1995 ish even. But today, I feel like I’ve gotten a better handle on my organization problem. At least for now, until it spirals out of control again.

So what I need is an email app that will let me add an email as an event to a calendar, add more specific notes to the calendar event, and trigger a to do note somewhere that I don’t forget it.

How’s that for crisis management. And they let me lead soldiers. Pitiful, isn’t it.

So bloggers, help me out. How do you keep track of everything: guest posts, review requests, giveaways? What works for you? Cause if I don’t manage the chaos somehow, I’m going to lose my mind!