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#SampleSunday – Proof Of Their Sin

I’m pretty wrapped up in my current Work In Process so almost missed posting this. It’s also really hard when you’re dazzled with the genius of your current project to think about old flames, but now that I’ve revisited Paolo and Lauren to find this excerpt, I’m losing my mind with excitement for this book to come out. They have such a long, fraught journey to their happily ever after. Here’s another taste of where they start:

“You need to get back to your party,” she murmured, carrying the icy glass of soda to her temple.

“No one will miss me,” he dismissed, even though he was distantly aware of the same thing.

“Isabella will,” she admonished. Then, keeping her face averted, asked, “Are you going to marry her?”

He hesitated. This news of Lauren’s was more than even his lightning mind could process quickly, but he couldn’t turn his life upside down without thinking it through. It would be humiliating to believe her and discover he’d been tricked again. Best to stay the course until he had better evidence for a correction.

“It would be a good match,” he said, hammering Isabella’s top qualities for both their benefits. “Her father is at the UN, her mother works with an international aid organization. Isabella understands life on the stage of global politics. Yes, I intend to marry her.”

Lauren made a noise of acknowledgement that almost sounded like the gasp from an absorbed blow.

Her reaction inexplicably caused invisible wires to pull him tighter than his tension already had him. A pike of misgiving speared through him and he instinctively wanted to rethink everything he’d just said.

It was exactly the turmoil he wouldn’t allow her to put him through. He brushed aside the detour into self-doubt as she spoke again.

“I didn’t hear anything about love. That was the problem with your first marriage, wasn’t it?” She kept her attention on the orange she was separating into sections, holding it well away from her gown.

He stared at the top of her head, willing her to look up at him and dare to say that. At the same time, his gut twisted with guilt. It was true, he’d had very little affection for his ex, but she’d still managed to devastate him. It was one reason he was determined to pin his future on Isabella and not a woman he truly loved. To be betrayed was one thing, to love and be betrayed would be impossible to bear.

“Love is for fools,” he muttered.

With a snort of cynicism, Lauren chortled, “Ain’t that the truth.”

Hearing her echo the sentiment irritated him. The way she had turned to him in Charleston had proved to him she wasn’t as devoted to Ryan as she’d portrayed through her marriage. This was further evidence she had scorned a man who had worshipped her.

“I guess that makes Ryan a fool, marrying for love,” Paolo said scathingly.

“Are you serious?” Her amber gaze flashed up like a splash of bourbon, stinging with hot-cold. “If he loved me so much, why did he spend all his time on the other side of the world taking insane chances with his life? He married me because I was raised to wait until I had a ring on my finger and he wanted bragging rights.”

“A clever ploy on your part, seeing as his family is quite well off,” he shot back, while a flash of Ryan’s smug, victor’s grin hit him square between the eyes. There could be some truth to her claim. He had another suspicion about his friend’s motives, one that was even less complimentary. They had always been competitive with each other, he and Ryan. It was usually good-natured, but there were times it had been cutthroat and Ryan had been in no doubt that Paolo found Lauren attractive.

No doubt.

“It wasn’t a ploy, it’s the truth,” Lauren bit out defensively, pulling Paolo’s thoughts from a dark place he rarely visited.

It was a place of bitterness he barely understood because he never examined it, but it filled him with enough acrimony to challenge, “You married for sex then?”

Disbelief dropped her jaw before her outrage fell away to wounded pride.

Her stunned silence pricked his conscience. He almost began forming an apology for crossing a line, but a self-conscious flush flooded into her cheeks. She looked naked and culpable, but her expression carried an edge of defiance that gave him a tingle of premonition. He unconsciously braced himself.

With her blush firmly in place, but a disconcertingly frank look sweeping over her, she sat straighter and said defiantly, “Perhaps I did marry for sex. I was curious and not confident enough to believe any other man would be interested, but I did love Ryan, in my immature way.”

That was too much honesty. He looked away, wanting to refute what she was saying by pointing out he had been interested, but that would only muddy already dark waters. Immature he would accept, while the rest he held in reserve. He needed to view her as deceitful in order to keep his distance. Otherwise he’d have to believe everything she was saying about this baby she was carrying and where would that leave him? Not upholding the honor of his family name the way he’d sworn to do after so disgracing it with his ugly divorce.

He would have to believe that when Lauren had woken him from the first sleep he’d had in forty-eight hours by sliding her caressing hand into his shirt, it had been from genuine want, not ulterior motives.

The pulse of desire that hit with that possibility was a sledgehammer straight into his gut, bathing him in heat. His hungry gaze moved restlessly to eat up the way her shorn head revealed her slender neck and the graceful slant of her nude shoulders. Her deshabille gave off a sexy, yet ingenuous appearance.

Don’t fall for it, he cautioned himself, but couldn’t help thinking that no matter whose baby grew in her belly, she was still a woman without a husband to provide for her. She was susceptible and he was, at his core, a protective man.

He was duty-bound to protect his family though. And what did it matter whether she had married for love or not? She was also admitting to resentment that her husband had been away a lot.

What she’d done during those long absences was very much up for scrutiny. Perhaps he should take her at her word that she wasn’t asking him to be a father, only wanted to warn him about an impending media storm.

I’ll be visiting Nights Of Passion on May 23rd, offering a giveaway copy of Proof Of Their Sin. Come say hi and possibly get the rest of Paolo and Lauren’s story.

The post #SampleSunday – Proof Of Their Sin appeared first on Dani Collins.

WOTI Wednesday – Rita Bay

I’m continuing my interviews with my Fantasy Friends (not imaginary! real authors!!) from Worlds Of The Imagination.  Today Rita Bay is here to talk about her Light Warrior vs Vampire paranormal, The Aegis.

Hi Rita. How long have you been writing? How does it fit into the rest of your life? What are you besides a writer ?

Thank you for inviting me, Dani.

I’ve been writing forever. Until seven years ago, however, I was engaged in technical writing – grants, programs planning, curriculum, and manuals. I started writing historicals and moved on to paranormals. Four novels and five years later, the novels rested in neatly-labeled folders. My Southern Sizzle Romance blog sisters/critique group twisted my arm until I submitted. Within three weeks Champagne Books contracted for my feline shapeshifter, Into the Lyons’ Den, and Siren BookStrand contracted my two Georgian/ Regency historicals, His Obsession and His Desire.

The last year has been a whirlwind. Editing for two publishers, maintaining my blog, marketing the new releases, and working on current projects has taken up most of my time. I’ve been very fortunate to have two great publishers, professional editors that have made the editing process a pleasure, and supportive author groups at both houses.

(I hear ya, sister. Ahem, please continue.)

I’ve worked as a registered nurse, career technical instructor, and school system administrator. I also volunteer with a historic preservation group. My most recent volunteer project was compiling the records for a 150+year-old cemetery. It was published last year and I’m about to start the second volume. Busy-busy.

What is your process like? Did this book give you any trouble or flow better than others?

I’m a super plotter. I mull a story over with visual scenes and dialogue in my head for months or years. Then, I write the blurb, character sketches, and finally a scene tracker which includes the location, action and plot progression, characters, POV, and dialogue snippets. Next, I put it in a folder for a while and add bits and pieces as they come to me.

When I finally sit down to write, it’s a frantic, multi-day endeavor. I never have trouble with the writing because I become so immersed in my characters and the story that it flows well. When I finish, I set it aside for a few weeks, then return to it for edits. Rather than filing the completed manuscript away, I now hold my breath and submit them.

Which brings me to my advice to aspiring writers: You won’t get published, unless you submit.

Excellent advice. What can readers look forward to next from you?

The second book of the “Lyons’ Tales” shapeshifter novel, Finding Eve, is finished with edits and ready for release in September. I recently signed with Secret Cravings Publishing for a contemporary military short story, Search & Rescue, which will be released in July. It was a story that popped up unsolicited during my November NaNoWriMo project (a novel in a month) and demanded to be written.

My summer writing project will be an as yet un-named final story in the “Lyon’s Tales.” I’ve become attached to the characters and am not looking forward to letting them go. Maybe I won’t…

Blurb:

“Better Dead than Dark”

Melinda Kildare, antiquarian and rare book dealer extraordinaire, returns to her shop after an estate sale with a massive, sealed barrel. Too late, she discovers that the Aegis medallion that traps her head-first in the bottom of the barrel is the bait used by a family of vampires to capture and enslave women of power.

Light Warrior Damian Sinclair, who has battled the Dark Ones for centuries, answers Melinda’s call—the call of a lifemate. While protecting her from the Dark Ones who pursue her relentlessly, he introduces her to passion, love, and her heritage as a Shield Bearer of the Light.

Will they find happiness as they unite to fight the Dark Ones or fall victims to the Dark forces ranged against them?

Where can readers find out more about you and your books?

Check out my webpage/blog at http://ritabay.com/ where you’ll find daily posts about history and culture that you won’t see elsewhere. There’re also blurbs and excerpts of all my books. I also blog on Mondays with The Fantasy Folk at Worlds of the Imagination.

My Facebook page (https://www.facebook.com/ritabayauthor) is a work in progress and my Twitter (https://twitter.com/ritabayauthor) is beyond abysmal.

My books are available at the following vendors and most other sites:

Champagne, Amazon, & Siren BookStrand.

Thank you, Dani, for inviting me to visit and thank you to the guests who drop by. As a special thank you, I’m offering an e-book copy of The Aegis to a commenter.

Rita Bay

The Aegis, Champagne Books, April, 2013

Her Teddy Bare, Carnal Passions May, 2013

Search & Rescue, Secret Cravings Publishing, July, 2013

Finding Eve, Champagne Books, September, 2013

Into the Lyons’ Den, Champagne Books, August, 2012

His Desire, Siren BookStrand, May, 2012

His Obsession, Siren BookStrand, April, 2012

The post WOTI Wednesday – Rita Bay appeared first on Dani Collins.

#SampleSunday – Proof Of Their Sin Mother’s Day

I couldn’t decide whether to do a #SampleSunday or an Ode To Motherhood. I know a lot of great moms, mine included–she got her own dedication in Proof Of Their Sin! So I could go on and on about moms, no problem.

I won’t claim to be one myself, by the way. I often say that my daughter is doing a marvelous job of raising our son and it’s no joke. She really is.

Anyway, I looked at my To Do list and figured it was less typing to do a #SampleSunday and I happen to have an excerpt from Proof Of Their Sin that shows how important becoming a mother is to Lauren.

By the way, if you or some hardworking mom you know wants a chance to win a signed copy of Proof Of Their Sin, please scroll to the bottom of the page and sign up for my newsletter. I’ll be drawing from my subscribers on launch day.

Here’s the excerpt:

“Three months since we were together, but I can see the weight gain starting. Is that why you slept with me? To disguise some married man’s bastard?”

“Oh, stop it!” she spat. “Have I asked you to be a father?” After losing her own and suffering Gerald as a substitute, she’d concluded that father figures were overrated. Her grandmother had filled all the necessary parental roles just fine thanks.

Wanting to finish with him before her delicate hold over her control slipped completely, she paced into the lounge, bypassing the narrow aisle between the sofa and coffee table for the wider band of area rug behind the furniture. As she spun, her skirt billowed in a way her lungs couldn’t. She was aware of his scrutiny like a scientist behind a mirrored wall, watching a distressed animal seek escape from its cage.

“Yes, people are going to notice soon that I’m pregnant,” she stated, trying to drag deeper breaths into her compressed lungs. “They’re going to speculate that it’s yours. I owed it to you to prepare you for that so here I am.”

“So you’re keeping it.” The words were flat and uninflected.

It was an unexpected blow that winded her.

“Of course I’m keeping it! I’ve waited years for a baby.” She tried to say it calmly, but she couldn’t help the residual fury over Ryan’s duplicity, letting her try to explain to his mother why they weren’t conceiving when he had privately known exactly why. “How can you suggest I not keep it? You’re Catholic. And don’t you dare ask if I slept with you to get pregnant. I’ll slap you, I swear I will. I thought I was infertile.”

She spun again, still pacing, feeling like one of those little metal ducks quacking her way along the upper ledge of a carnival tent. Paolo’s laser gaze seemed to track her like the red dot of a sniper’s rifle while he weighed her words.

“I know this baby looks like a disaster, but it’s a miracle.” Her agitation at having to explain without being able to explain kept her blood vessels tight, her muscles tense, her focus dim and narrow on the walls rushing by.

“I’m willing to minimize the damage by leaving the country, but it’s going to come out, Paolo.” She’d managed to ignore her anxiety over that eventuality, but it threatened to overwhelm her as she spoke of it. Her feet moved quicker and she felt the walls closing in. Her mother’s shame and disappointment, Ryan’s mother’s horrified incomprehension… It would be a nightmare and Lauren didn’t even have her grandmother to stand by her.

What she wanted, what she’d come here for, was rescue, she realized. Deep down, she had hoped for the same help and support he’d offered in Charleston.

She wasn’t going to get it though. She really was alone in this.

Eyes stinging at how inexorable it all was, Lauren made herself halt, growing aware that she was gasping breaths in, but was forgetting to let them out. A clammy sweat condensed on her skin and her vision faded to white. She was hyperventilating and even though she tried to make herself stop, panic at not tasting any oxygen stole her self control, making her try harder to catch her breath.

Paolo said her name in a sharp tone. She blindly looked to where she thought he was, but she couldn’t see him. Her hearing was muffled as though her ears were filling with water. She moved her lips, trying to tell him, trying…

How nice is this quote off the Amazon UK book description:

‘Whilst still a brand new author for Modern, I feel like I’ve been reading Dani for years! Love her stories!’ – Emma, 53, Henley

I recently blogged on CoffeeTimeRomance about what inspired the premise for Proof Of Their Sin.

I’ll also be chatting about Proof Of Their Sin with Sharon Buchbinder on Tuesday, May 14th and offering up another teaser. Please join us.

The post #SampleSunday – Proof Of Their Sin Mother’s Day appeared first on Dani Collins.

#ThursdayThirteen – Authors On My TBR Pile

I call it a To Be Read ‘pile’, but they’re actually stashed around the house, in the cars (plural), and in various bags so I am always ready to take advantage of a spare moment should it present.

In no particular order, I’m currently reading:

Scarlet Wilson
Kate Hardy
Maya Blake
Abby Green
Maisey Yates
Lynn Raye Harris
Tawny Weber
Heidi Rice
Susan Stephens
Jane Porter
Rhonda Nelson
Kate St. James
Caitlin Crews

Anyone else start a book and then start another and then oh! That one looks good. I’ll just read a few pages then…

Sigh. So many stories, so few hours in a day.

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WOTI Wednesday – Graeme Brown

A lucky star of some kind smiled upon me and led me to a group of very generous writers, the ones I keep calling the Fantasy Folk, living communally at Worlds Of The Imagination.

We’re your typical band of merry travellers on a quest to bring stories to hungry readers and doing our best to keep each other alive in the sometimes harrowing landscape of today’s publishing.

To that end, I’ll be featuring interviews with each of them on Wednesdays over the next while, as their new releases become available. First up is Graeme Brown who is one of those Renaissance men who does it all: art, music, and writing. The Pact is Graeme’s first novel.

How long have you been writing, Graeme? How does it fit into the rest of your life? What are you besides a writer?

I have been writing since I was 8. This started with horror, then, after I discovered Tolkien, it became permanently fantasy, though I did try some science fiction. After two failed manuscripts, then the success of The Pact, I have finally got a plan together for the epic I’d like to tell. I have planned out several books to follow, not just in terms of the story, but in terms of complexity so that I can learn the lessons I need to learn before moving to the next. The final of these “books” will be a series, and I’m hoping the things I learn in writing the books before it will help me to keep my ducklings in a row. So, this means I will be writing for several years.

Besides writing, I am a full-time math and computer science student. I love these topics and look forward to doing research and maintaining a connection with the university throughout my life. Even if I could be a full-time writer, I would still go to the university and continue to learn a little, because I find it keeps lateralizing my mind and teaching me how to organize my thoughts.

What is your process like? Did this book give you any trouble or flow better than others?

The Pact was the book where I finally discovered the process that works for me. I used to just sit down and write, and hope things would work out. I am also not a good chess player. If I were a good chess player, perhaps this would work for me, but I, unfortunately, am very bad for making spontaneous choices that lead to check mate – that includes from midpoint onward in a novel. Unfortunately, a novel is seldom kind enough to tell you it’s game over, so I spent a long time worrying about why things just “didn’t seem right.” After all, I’d got it all to hang together, saw the manuscript through.

I took a course on outlining that taught me how to write from the bottom up: the premise, then three-part development, then each of the main inflections (opening sequence, turning point one, pinch one, midpoint, pinch two, turning point two, climax, resolution) and what characterizes them. Doing this, along with organized character and setting profiles, has helped me not only to prevent that unseen check-mate, it also helps me to stay connected to the draft when I write.

And, of course, I am always still learning. My current project, The Pact’s sequel (A Thousand Roads) is a lot more complex and I’m using techniques for outlining and drafting that I’ve discovered through the act of doing. However, what is really important is that it allows me to keep things together and, to my great relief, only have to write one draft then spend some time refining it a bit before it’s ready to submit.

What can readers look forward to next from you?

A Thousand Roads, a sequel to The Pact. I am moving into the last quarter of it, and usually write about 500-1000 words every day. I say it’s a sequel because it is not part of a series – the novels that follow The Pact follow the same epic arc, but are not strung together sequentially, nor do they follow the same characters per se.

A Thousand Roads is the story of Jak Fuller, Will’s close friend who we meet in The Pact, and it’s set three years after the events of that fateful night. The tale of a young man trying to find himself in a world full of intrigue and villains using him to advance the powers of the Underworld, it deals with more of the secrets behind the attack on Fort Lesterall and Jak’s unwitting part in it. It comes with a warning, though, because if anyone thought The Pact was a YA, or even a NA novel, they will quickly discover that my audience is definitely adults.

Back Cover Copy for The Pact:

Enter the world of Will Lesterall, a boy who’s grown up in the safety of his father’s castle.

Tales of the outside world ruled by warring kings and creatures of nightmare have never seemed a threat, yet on the night celebrating the two hundredth year of the sacred Pact that has kept Fort Lesterall safe, a secret intrigue ripens, and in the course of a few hours Will is confronted with a choice greater than he can comprehend.

Join an unlikely hero as destiny pulls him into the middle of an ancient conflict between fallen gods and ambitious women, one that demands blood, both holy and wicked, and the power of an ancient fire bound in steel. As swords clash below a watching wood, hope and betrayal war as fiercely as fear and valour.

Whether he lives or dies, Will Lesterall will never be the same.

Excerpt from The Pact:

The Stablehouse climbed three stories, a narrow building just twenty feet shy from touching the top of the double outer wall that surrounded the castle’s north flank. Lights shone in the top floor windows and a few others at ground level, where the horses were kept. Will hurried across the dark stones. The soft tap of his shoes against the cobbles echoed in the empty Square. In the middle, where the ground sloped down toward the sewer drains, the statue of Amarr the Barbarian cast a long shadow. Will passed into it and stopped. He heard voices.

Two men spoke in hushed tones, but their words carried when the wind wasn’t gusting.

“It’s that hag, I tell ya,” came one voice. “She’s roundin’ them up, preparing one of her big spells, she is. I heards there’s a sacrifice comin’, and she means to raise the dead.”

“Don’t be stupid, Roth.” Will recognized the raspy tone at once. It belonged to Mern, the whitesmith, whose half-slashed throat had never fully healed. Will squinted, but couldn’t see where the voices came from, other than realizing they drifted over from the dark, walled yard outside Hellistead’s Tavern.

“I’ll not have ya callin’ me stupid. Oh no. I know what this is about an’hoo. You’re just afraids, justs protectin’ yurself. Ya know whatcha got in it, ands I don’t blame you for bitin’ your tongue.”

“Quiet, you hay-brained crofter,” Mern spat. “Tonight’s not a night to whisper about such treacheries. The Lord Ham will cut your tongue out, and the world’ll be a better place for it if he does.”

“Old Cren will put it back, if he do, but I says he’d best act quick, or he’ll be lacking for the parts as fits him proper. The night’s black, Mern, and it’s gettin’ blacker yet.”

There was a hollow clatter, then sharp hisses. The man who spoke improperly cursed in words that would have made Grandma Mae gasp then Will heard quick footsteps and a series of clunks. He looked back to the castle, to where father gathered his fighters, then the other way, to the Stablehouse. If father’s in trouble, I have to warn him. Will knew his words wouldn’t be taken seriously, though.

He began to run across the stone expanse. Fort Lesterall won’t fall. Mern’s a wicked man, and whoever that other one is, he’s got no wits. Cren’s just an old woman who lives in the woods. She probably doesn’t even exist.

The side door to the Stablehouse opened as Will arrived, revealing a long labyrinth of stalls lit by rows of hanging lanterns. Jak peeked from behind the door, and Will slipped inside. When the older boy closed it, the dangerous night seemed far away. They were alone, Jak peering at Will, a curry comb still clasped in his hand. He was broad-limbed and of average height, with tousled hair the color of wet earth and eyes like onyx. As usual, he smelled of straw and horse manure, but that only made him all the more inviting.

Jak grinned. “I thought you’d hurry over after the feast proper. Too many clouds tonight, though. I’m afraid we won’t be spying Hell’s Cap, but I’ve another surprise for you. Found it myself, last night.”

“We won’t be going to the groves, Jak.” Will lowered his voice. “The Unborns are going to attack. Alter Dun showed the Red Token. That means the Unborns have challenged us. The Pact is broken. Even as we speak, my father’s gathering an army.”

“Of course he is.” Will turned toward the metal spiral stair. Barrik, a wiry man with salt-and-pepper hair and a bushy moustache, bent his impressive height as he descended from the second floor serving quarters. “I’ve a hundred retainers to see to and that’s lots of horseshit, my little prince. A good thing they’ve taken to the barracks. I’m full, and there’s a thousand more coming, twenty companies marching under you uncle’s banner knight, Telliken. If we hold the night, then there will be others, and we’ll feed the Unborns hell like they haven’t seen in centuries. But if what I’ve heard’s true, then they have hell to feed us first, before we can draw breath.”

Will gaped at the Master of Stables then shook his head fiercely. “Fort Lesterall cannot fall.”

Barrik grunted, though it sounded like a laugh. He picked up a pail and carried it to a nearby stall. “I wish I believed that, lad, but this world’s not run on luck, I’m afraid. A man forges his own blade then learns to use it, or he gets cut by everyone around him. This world’s a fierce battlefield, a bitch with a thousand teeth.”

“We can fight with them,” Jak insisted. “I’ve practiced with the sword you gave me lots of times in the groves. I’m not bad.”

“You would be with armor on.” Barrik came out of the stall with a pail full of black dung. He looked at Will, at Jak, his expression grave. “No, you boys have another errand…

Where can readers find you and your books?

The Pact is now available as an ebook on the Burst Books website:

Website: http://www.graemebrownart.com

Twitter: https://twitter.com/GraemeBrownWpg

Add The Pact to Goodreads

Thanks for visiting, Graeme. Good luck with The Pact.

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#SampleSunday – Proof Of Their Sin Prologue

It’s Sunday morning, I’m thinking of calling in disaster relief for my desk, I opened up my banking program to get that started, then decided to write a teaser for Proof Of Their Sin.

Proof Of Their Sin is my North American print debut. The ebook is available for pre-order now and will be released mid-June. The print books will be on the shelves July 1st, which is such a big deal, my entire country will hold parades and concerts and set off fireworks. (Okay, that’ll be for Canada Day, but give me this one. It’s been a long time coming.)

(photo courtesty of Federation of Quebec Maple Syrup Producers)

I’ll be starting a blog tour shortly and offering giveaway copies so stay tuned for those dates and locations. I’ll also be drawing from my newsletter subscriber list for a signed copy. (I gave away my first copy yesterday to my Mom. My Large Print editions arrived in time for her birthday which was nice.)

There will also be a proper launch and signing at some point, details to be announced when I get my act together.

Proof Of Their Sin Teaser:

This scene is not included in the book, only referenced. Lauren married Paolo’s best friend, Ryan, five years ago. Ryan is a special ops, high octane kind of guy, and just went MIA. Paolo was also prone to risk and fast-living until he had to take over his Italian family’s international bank about the time Lauren married. Lauren and Paolo have always been attracted to each other and always fought letting the other see it.

Lauren sat inside the mansion as directed. It was too cold to sit outside her mother-in-law insisted. Maybe it was a windy day in Charleston, but Lauren’s flight had barely made it out of the snowstorm in Montreal so the weather here was merely brisk.

Paparazzi surrounded the place. That was the real reason Lauren was supposed to stay indoors. She didn’t argue. It wasn’t her way. She sat in the oppressive silence broken only by the ticking of the grandfather clock, avoiding eye contact with her in-laws as they all waited for the phone to ring. No, she replied when asked, she wasn’t hungry. No one was hungry.

Did they know what she’d done?

She adjusted her rings, the ones she’d put back on her finger as the taxi had approached her husband’s ancestral home. The platinum was cold. Her hands were frozen. Icy knives turned in her. Was it her fault? Had she driven Ryan to take chances by asking for a divorce?

Why wouldn’t anyone tell them what was going on?

Military, she thought, and another slice of guilt cut through her. She shouldn’t have tried to circumvent such a power by calling Paolo, but he was Ryan’s best friend and very well connected.

He hadn’t called back though. That was a thousand messages in itself about his contempt for her and his respect for Ryan’s job.

Everyone loved Ryan.

Except her.

She made her hands sit still in her lap. Her blood thickened like concrete, making all of her feel stony and dead. Calling Paolo had been foolish. It made her look desperate in the wrong way. If he ever did speak to her, he’d say something horrible about her contacting him like that, claim she’d been coming on to him or something. She just knew it.

If only she could take it back, all of it. What did it matter if Ryan had cheated? She should have been like her mother and kept quiet, just being thankful she had a husband at all.

Did she have a husband? She had wanted a divorce, not this. When would it end? When would they hear?

Outside, where the media kept up a low buzz like a workaday hive, a commotion suddenly arose. A car door slammed and shouts rose to rabid levels.

News, Lauren though, and her heart stalled with dread.

She numbly let her gaze follow Ryan’s sister as she left the room. The front door opened and closed, locking out the din of reporters literally screaming for a headline.

Holding her breath, she listened as measured footsteps crossed marble.

Paolo Donatelli entered the lounge.

Oh.

He looked awful, not that a man that handsome could ever look truly terrible, but he had deep shadows under his reddened eyes. His cheeks were hollow beneath the stubble on his jaw. The sensual mouth that always drew her gaze when he spoke was pulled down at the corners into an anguished line.

His scanning gaze found her and locked, not wavering as he walked straight toward her. The forcefield off him seemed to come up against the safety shields she’d erected around herself. She felt the tension like two bubbles butting up against one another.

He sat down on the ottoman in front of her knees and reached for her lifeless hands. With an unexpected blip, the wall between them disintegrated and they were trapped inside a single, airless orb. Everything beyond them was a soapy blur.

The force of his grip caused feeling to seep upward from her crushed fingers.  Like maple sap bleeding into the cells of a tree after a long, hard winter, tiny vessels were forced to expand and stung with the pressure. It hurt, but felt like life returning at the same time. The shell around her heart developed stress fractures and began to crack.

Paolo’s dark eyes looked into the very depths of her soul.

“Cara, I’m so sorry.”

Want to know what happens next? Proof Of Their Sin is part of a mini-series called One Night With Consequences. *wink* I’m thinking of writing the One Night scene as an exclusive for a Street Team–if I ever find time to organize one. What do you think?

Remember to scroll all the way to the bottom and sign up for my newsletter if you’d like to be entered to win a signed copy of Proof Of Their Sin.

And I just received an email that my interview is up on Audra Middleton’s site. She’s one of my Fantasy Folk friends from Worlds Of The Imagination. Come say hi.

 

 

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Can’t keep up? Me either.

My daughter said one of her friends was not a good teenager because she often forgot to check Facebook or reply to texts. In fact, this particular girl was known to misplace her phone for days at a time. #TeenageGirlFail, right?

Well, I’m a terrible published author. Back in March I totally zoned on announcing The Healer in the newsletter for my writer’s group (RWA-GVC). Thankfully, the kind editors there gave me a second chance. I also missed the Champagne newsletter for April and took my lumps on that one. Natural consequences, you know.

Today I realized I dropped the ball on announcing I was RomanceBeckons’ Author Focus yesterday (Friday, April 26th) where I discuss writing for multiple genres (all romance) and how it came about. I’m not going to make excuses, but I will be proactive and remind you that I’ll be chatting on LoveRomancesCafe next Friday (May 3rd) with the Fantasy Folk. There will be giveaways.

Now I’m going back to my revisions because I may be a #BadPublishedAuthor but I am a #DedicatedWriter.

 

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Thursday Thirteen – How To Do Anything

Have you ever wound up in the middle of a giant mess that you’ve created on your way from thinking, I can do that? It happens to me all the time.

As a result, I’ve learned a few tricks for actually getting from Start to Finish on just about anything. (The kids are still a Work In Progress. Same goes Marriage.)

I haven’t done a Thursday Thirteen in a couple of weeks so I thought, What the hay. I can do one on Goal Setting and Achievement. Or something like that.

Here goes:

Define your goal: This might be Write a book, Renovate a bathroom, Put on an event, or Write a blog post. 
Flesh it out: or Establish Scope as the engineers might call it. Here I like to go back to my high school English class to review the 5 W’s (Who, What, Where, When, Why). You would describe the goal in detail like Write a 100k word Romance (what) for Harlequin (who) set in Venice (where) in Renaissance time (when) because you want to be rich and famous (why).
How and How Much: Budgets are always important and you need to build the cost of tools and raw materials into it so figure out how you’re going to attack this project. (Eg. Book: If you submit via email, no paper or postage costs; Bathroom fixtures can sometimes be salvaged from other projects to save costs; Event planners might get you a better deal on the venue, but they come with a cost. Blog posts are free, but my time is precious.) You get the idea.
Establish a Deadline: and ask your self if it is realistic. Today is Sunday. I can easily write and schedule this post by Thursday. Finishing a book, Organizing a wedding, and Refurbishing a bathroom? Not so much. However, knowing your deadline gives you a sense of how much time you can spend on the rest of the steps. I actually want to have this done before Mad Men comes on in one hour and forty-six minutes so no dilly-dallying!
Research: Here is where the deadline keeps you on task. I actually came across this How To Write A Blog Post the other day, which amused me and gave me the idea for this post. I should have mentioned that ‘Entertain Reader’ is within my scope for Blogging. When it comes to renovations, we learned the hard way that you want to know where you are buying your shower and to have it on site before you rip out the tub because sometimes you flirt with divorce while redesigning said bathroom and when you do decide on an enclosure, it can be back ordered into the next century. By the same token, if Harlequin prefers books of 50k words for the type of romance you intend to write, you might want to rethink you’re scope. As for honeymoons? A cruise sounds nice, but…. do your research.
Break it down into achievable steps: Now that you’ve got a handle on your scope and timeline, break down the job into steps and schedule mini-deadlines. I find it helpful to make these as small and simple as possible, so I’m setting myself up for success rather than failure. So, for a novel, your steps might be: Write an outline and/or synopsis, write three scenes (one/week) for each of twelve chapters, send completed manuscript for critique, revise, submit. Bathroom: buy fixtures, tear out old ones, install new, inspection (if required), finish. Wedding: well, heck, that’s a whole book unto itself. Blog post: well, as you can see, there are thirteen steps.
Obstacles: Anticipate as many as you can and how you will stay on task and on deadline. I built the task of cooking lasagne and serving it into my schedule here, but not the twitching eye and scratched feeling every time I blink. Very annoying. Sometimes grit is the way through these things. And squinting like a pirate. ARrrgh.
Prepare the workspace: Okay, I’m way ahead on this one as I’m well into my WordPress fullscreen Just Write whitespace. Sometimes I’m so scared when I have to start a new book, however, that I tell myself that all I have to do is copy over the template of files I like to have at the ready into the new folder. That’s all. It’s a very achievable goal and always puts me in the right headspace. My tools are in place. I’m good to go. For something as big as a wedding or bathroom, you really need to cordon off a physical space so you don’t have to put everything away each night and keep repeating this step every morning. That would kill your productivity.
Establish a pace: This is where you review all your mini-deadlines and start meeting them. If you fall behind immediately, I suggest you zip right up to step four again and figure out if you’re being realistic. I’ve said this once and it really is the secret to doing anything: Set yourself up for success, not failure. Too much failure and you’re walking away from a half-built bathroom and the honeymoon is over. However, be gentle with yourself and let those mini-deadlines be somewhat fluid. Meet one today, fall behind a bit tomorrow, catch-up and exceed the next day… That’s good self management.
Push through the boredom: This is the labour phase where sheer guts carries you. You’re on pace, you’re making progress, but the finish is still a ways off. Man, would you ever like a glass of wine and come back to this another time. A brand-new story idea hits, the weather brightens up and you really need to get the garden turned over, and seriously, if you have to make one more decision about paper doilies or where people should park, you’ll lose your mind. Just do it.
Completion: The end is nigh. The deadline looms, the new toilet is flushing, people are getting ready to head toward the venue, the book is out for critique, and I could hit Publish and run if I was the kind of person who could post a Thursday Thirteen with only eleven steps.
Finishing Touches and Clean Up: This is how you take Doing Anything up a notch into Doing Anything Well. You show up at the event before everyone else and make sure the seating plan was followed and the vegetarians won’t have to eat meat. You put down new flooring around the toilet and give the room a fresh coat of paint, then yeah, take the time to tap in those baseboards. The book, well, manuscripts can always use one more read-through for typos and formatting glitches and blog posts love getting pimped with links and Feature Images and tags. Let me take a moment to do that now.
Reward: I’m a great believer in motivating yourself with whatever gets you through that labour phase. For me, it’s a glass of wine and Mad Men. I’ll be heading there shortly.

I hope this post helps you achieve whatever you’re aiming for. If you enjoy the Thursday Thirteen types of blog posts, you can also find some at Coffee Time Romance as well as the Thursday-13 site already linked above.

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#Sample Sunday – The Healer

This is likely my last excerpt from The Healer as I’ll be switching gears to promote Proof Of Their Sin in May. If you haven’t printed the Map of Kerfdom and Character Guide, please check them out now. (Warning: the Character Guide contains spoilers!) Book clubs, I haven’t forgotten you; there’s a Reading Guide too. 

Setup: Previous excerpts have taken us from the opening, to Vaun and Athadia waking on the trail while traveling back to Vaun’s village. He then reports to his brother King Elden, who allows Vaun to keep Athadia as his captive. Below, she has come into his home, meets his sons and we begin to see how this arrangement will progress.

-

She glanced at Vaun. She had forgotten her position when she had extended her hand to Lanick. The fact Vaun insisted on completing a formal greeting puzzled her, but he offered no insight, keeping his gaze hard and firm on Lanick.

A power struggle, she realized, and tentatively rested her fingertips on Lanick’s because she wanted to know his potential, but no Alvian energy leapt at her. As the other boys offered their bows she learned neither Fedor nor Yavin possessed healing ability either, but the youngest…

Mekel straightened abruptly. His smile brightened as his fingers closed around the tips of her own. His talent, whimsical and light as a winged nectar-sip, tugged gently at hers.

Athadia disciplined hers, not wanting to flood and startle him with the strength of her power, but a willowy and brief exploration told her he enjoyed good health and only peripheral awareness of the sliver of talent he owned. She left it at that and released him.

He said something and Vaun answered, then translated.

“He says your hand is very warm. I told him it’s because you were at the fire.”

The fire was not yet lit, and he ought to question why Mekel was the only one who noted the heat of her energy. Athadia smiled at the boy again, near tears with joy that he was another Latent, evidence of Vaun’s ability to pass along his traits.

“I imagine over time…” Vaun frowned. “Your healing ways will upset the village. Avoid demonstrations of it.”

Once again she struggled with the dilemma of enlightening Vaun to his heritage. She would have to tell him at some point, but judging by the way he wished to downplay her talent, he wouldn’t welcome the news.

As he turned his attention to his sons, a new yet familiar dilemma struck her. How could she ask Vaun to The Circle when it meant abandoning his Null children?

~ * ~

Vaun spent the afternoon catching up with his boys, distracting them with questions of their own antics while he’d been away so they wouldn’t ask too many about Athadia. He did his best to keep her out of sight as well, leaving her alone in his curtained bedroom with a bucket of water and the clean, if worn brown dress one of the castle servants had supplied her. The arrangement would work in the long run. She would accept her new circumstances in time.

Meanwhile, he listened with only half an ear to Mekel’s account of a fishing expedition onto the ice. The rest of him focused on the sound of water wringing from a cloth. He no longer had men’s lives to worry about or hostile territory to cross. Or a knowing audience for his lust. He allowed his hunger for Athadia to amplify with each whispered movement of soft rag against flesh.

Eventually she emerged washed and combed, her skin smooth and holding the warm glow of sunset on autumn leaves. She carried the bucket of dirty water, her small stature struggling with the awkward, heavy load. Reyda had been more robust and had had servants to do for her.

He took the bucket and set it on the floor near the sink. “My queen has sent a meal,” he said, showing her the basket on the table, not mentioning that Fallon had likely supplied it because she worried Athadia would poison them at the first opportunity.

“Shall I serve it?” she asked in a pensive voice.

“Thank you.” He watched her, his desire waning under concern. He kept searching his mind for another option to the way things had turned out, but couldn’t find one so he shouldn’t feel such gnawing guilt, but he did.

Perhaps the guilt rose from not entirely regretting this result.

“You’ll eat with us,” he said.

She scanned the modest dishes then shook her head. “I don’t eat animals.”

“You need to eat something.”

“Yes, but not now.” She bent to attend the fire.

The boys glanced up from their sparsely filled plates. Manners learned at the castle kept them waiting for Vaun’s permission to begin. He pulled out the single chair at the head of the table and sat, signaling them to eat but still bothered. He didn’t want to treat her as slave or servant or chattel, but if not those things, what was she?

“Where will she sleep?” Lanick asked between bites, his expression forbidding.

She was not his wife, that was certain.

Vaun pushed his meal around on his plate, not as hungry as he ought to be for the first decent meal he’d had in weeks. Brooding thoughts clouded in. He had worked hard to earn the respect that looked past his bastard birth. He had applied himself in schooling, had trained limitlessly as a warrior, had accepted the marriage arranged for him. He was a fool to risk losing the high opinion of his fellow Kerfs to keep an Alvian woman alive. Let her refuse to eat with him and starve herself to death. The favor would save him from his own soft-headedness. He should treat her as the slave she was and chain her to the fire overnight so she couldn’t run away.

She glanced over, perhaps having heard the lift of Lanick’s tone and wondering why no one answered his question. Dressed in Kerf clothing, she looked as any Kerf woman might. As any pretty one in a deeply contemplative mood. The firelight reflected on her cheek the way it had that first night, weeks ago, when bleak resignation had darkened her eyes. Then she had feared she would suffer the same abuse at the hands of Kerfs as she had endured under the Shotes. Now something else worried her and Vaun didn’t know how to reassure her or even if he could. Her presence here was a tentative trial at best. What he did know was that if he did not value her, no one would.

“In my bed,” he said, ignoring Lanick’s choke. “She sleeps with me.”

-

Want to know how that turns out? There’s one more teaser on The Healer’s page here.

Have you been enjoying these posts? If you’d like to chat with me about them, I’ll be at LoveRomancesCafe May 3, 2013 with my Fantasy Folk Friends from WorldsOfTheImagination.

 

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Mostly For Writers

I don’t offer a ton of info for writers on my blog because I know so many writers who do, and they typically do it much better than I feel that I could. But I’ve come across a few things lately that I thought might be helpful for other writers and vaguely interesting to readers killing time on the internet at work.

I just watched this Vlog (Video Blog) where Joanna Penn interviews CJ Lyons on how to sell a million books. It’s longish–no I’m not at work. I’m at home supposed to be penning my next book. But I thought I’d save others in my boat some time by revealing CJ Lyons three-step secret:

Write a great book. (Never heard that one before!)
Give it time to reach readers. (Patience is a virtue. I happen to be a sinner in this regard. I seriously just ate two pieces of lightly toasted frozen bread.)
Repeat. (So why am I blogging not writing?)

I actually have an answer to that last question: to serve readers. Which CJ also stresses along with revealing some really great tips on how she developed her brand and marketed herself.

I won’t steal all her material. If you’re an aspiring indie or traditional writer (or hybrid! Hello, that’s me) then give this vlog your time.

Oh, and please sign up for my newsletter. Why yes, CJ did teach me that.

Meanwhile, in trying to find a way to blog without spending all my time blogging, I’ve looked up Reblogging. Long story short, it’s like Retweeting (or sharing, if you prefer Facebook.) You see something that strikes a chord and want to share it so you post it in your own space for your readers.

Or, if you’re an avid reader with friends who like to read, it’s like saying, Here, read my copy of this book. Note that when we share books, we typically keep them in tact and do not tear off the cover and apply a new one with our own name on it.

For more etiquette on reblogging, see this post on ePropertySites. If you’re on WordPress and you’d like to reblog from another WordPress site, Jenny Hansen offers instructions here. Marcy Kennedy also offers some great tips on reblogging and Kristen Lamb is quite obviously a very popular blogger to reblog.

What else have I been looking up lately? Well, I had to rewrite my bio for Harlequin this week. The Savvy Book Marketer helped with that as did Rachelle Gardner here. Basically, along with hitting your education, experience, publishing credits and talents, you want to be relatable, funny, interesting and offer a sample of your voice. Easy peasy, right?

Finally, in my search for info on writing a killer bio, I came across this post by Steff Metal on The Abundant Artist about developing a sales page. Not 100% applicable to writers, especially if you’re traditionally published rather than selling off your own site, but certainly in the high 90′s for relevance.

Some non-writing related research I’ve been doing lately that actually does relate back to my writing is Burnout. We all know that balance in our lives helps us handle stress so, to that end, I have just been invited for a walk and lunch with a girlfriend. Therefore, I shall stop trying to figure out how pingbacks work and get out of my jammies and into my lulus.

Happy Saturday.

 

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