Liz Lee's Blog, page 14

Love and Low Carbs

The cold from hell won't go away. I brought it home from London. It's been a little over a week. Hell = a 10-hour international flight with a cold that won't quit.
If it's not gone tomorrow I'll go to the doctor, but I hate going to the doctor. WAAAH.
Until I caught this cold, I hadn't been sick since I started my low carb lifestyle. I have to think all those Irish and UK carbs led to this. But they were totally worth it. :)
This was the fruit scone with cream and jelly I had on the ferry from Ireland to Wales. AMAZING. I think the fact that it had been 16 months since I'd eaten sugar made everything taste better on this trip.




I've been back on the low carb lifestyle for 8 days, and I've lost the 7 pounds I gained over there. The cold has probably made that easier, but honestly, it hasn't been that big of a deal to give up the sugar again. I feel better without it.

Currently Reading: It's in His Kiss by Julia Quinn (love, love, love)
Listening to: Whatever I decide to click on in Spotify. KICKING myself for not buying the Celtic and Scottish music while I was over there.
Working on: To Trust a Prince. A hot royal with a secret past. Yum.
Currently out: Close to Home a steamy contemporary romance. Available on Kindle.



Kacie Jo Jenkins stood outside the door to her brother’s apartment and tried to calm her fluttering nerves.Okay. So if Grady found out her real reason for knocking on his door, she was toast. And while she agreed he’d have every reason in the world to be furious, she felt she had no choice.Donovan Nelson was in town exactly forty-eight hours. She didn’t have time to play nice. She was tired of playing nice anyway. Twenty-four years of being the good girl had finally undone her. Nothing and no one was stopping her now.No siree. She had a plan, and she was bound and determined to reach her goal. She’d been waiting for this chance for years.The plan: shock the men behind this door senseless. The goal: the seduction of Donovan Nelson.Luckily, she had reinforcements.“If you don’t knock on that door in ten seconds, I’m going to.” Reinforcement number one, her best and dearest friend Eliza Miller.“And quit fidgeting. You look great in that outfit.” Reinforcement number two, a white cropped tee shirt and jeans she’d usually consider one size too small that had her feeling a little light headed.“But before you knock, you might want to wipe the lipstick off your teeth.”Kacie Jo did just that as she took one final calming breath. Reinforcement number three, a knock his socks off makeover that had depleted her resources but made her look like a rock star. Definitely worth every penny.And with that, Kacie Jo set her plan in motion with three small knocks, a great big smile and an aluminum pan of Better than Sex cake. The boys wouldn’t be too happy about having their night interrupted, but she bet the cake could buy her entrance into their realm.And once she was inside, the result was history. She’d written the ending to this night too many times over to be dissuaded now. No matter what, Donovan Nelson was hers. Tonight. No excuses.

**If you're a reviewer interested in reviewing my books, let me know in the comments, and I'll get them to you. All I ask is that you post the review to Amazon and GoodReads as well as your site if you have one. If you like the book, YAY! If not, I won't take offense.
If you're not a reviewer, but you like steamy contemporary romance and would be interested in beta reading for me and getting the word out on my books, let me know in the comments, too. I'm always looking for people to add to my beta reader team.
If you're an indie author looking for a reader to critique or beta read, let me know what you write in the comments, and I'll try to work something out. I love working with other authors!

Happy Monday.

2012-2013 A Year Of Change

(cross posted from my personal blog)For a regular blogger, this last year held a ton of distractions. It's easy to see those distractions in my light number of posts.From filling our empty nest with a teenager and a dog to building a house, it's been quite the journey. My plan is to blog A LOT more from here on out.If you follow my personal profile on Facebook, you've seen these photos. If not, I hope you enjoy.ON came to live with us Spring Break 2012. She graduated June 1 this year! WOO HOO!!!!Emmie came to live with us last June. I love her like a baby. I'm serious. I'm a dog mom. She's a rescue. She had a rough life before us. Now she has the easy life. It's weird because I'd been a cat mom for 18 years and didn't plan on having a dog. I <3 Emmie.Then there's the house The slab. We were so freaking excited. Framing and all that good stuff :) It was so cold, but we saw brick. We had to take a photo. MY OFFICE!!!! The front was done. It looked so close. LIES! THe outside is the easy part. I just like this picture of DH looking at the frame for the sidewalks. Garage door. This is so funny. We got the WRONG garage door, but we loved it. Cost us $1k, but it was worth it! Yeah, we still think this is close to done. This doesn't look too far away, right? :) We're wondering if this will ever get done. with our builders what it looked like a week before that meeting with our builders. holy cow we got the keys! AND the mortgage.

Fat Girl Hell and Getting Over It

My name is Mary Beth Lee, and I was born fat.I've talked about my struggle with weight and food in the past. In fact, this blog started with several posts about my weight and weight loss and Weight Watchers back in 2005. Since then I've lost and gained hundreds of the same pounds. A little over a year ago I discovered low carb living, and life has changed a lot. My struggle with food addiction isn't gone, but it's not so ever present. I'm not skinny, and I never will be, but I'm healthy and I'm happy.I love that I can shop in regular sizes...but I don't have to. If I want the extra length, I can grab a loose 1X. What I mourn now is how much I HATED, LOATHED and DESPISED my body for years. I remember going on the cabbage diet in high school because I'd crossed the line to a size 14. I lost weight and gained it right back plus 10 pounds. I can't tell you how many times I heard, "you'd be so gorgeous if you lost a little weight."My stretch marks showed up about the same time my cycle started. I was far more mortified by those pink marks on my legs and breasts than I ever was at my period. I remember trying to eat one meal a day because my thighs were fat.I started down the road to Fat Girl Hell early on, and it led me to a lot of self destruction, physically and emotionally.I used my fat to hide. I used it for comfort. It was my identity even though I hated, despised and loathed it.Today two things happened that brought this all back. One of my former students posted about a shirt  carried only in "fat girl" sizes and how much a person said they hated fat girls and fat girl only sizes and Huff Po carried a great story on plus sized models. The fat girl comment hurt my former student's feelings. I totally understand.I can't tell you how many "moos" or "can't she just exercise?" or "with a little effort, you could do it" I heard over the years. If you've never struggled with weight, you have no clue how far from true all that is. There's a reason the weight loss industry is booming, and it's not because those of us who struggle need to exercise a little more. The model story gave me hope that people are starting to see beauty in something more than weight.Today I realized I don't hate my body any more. I don't despise it or loathe it. (Okay, I'm still really unhappy with my fat arms! If one more person tells me I inherited them from my Grandma Hagberg, I'm going to scream!) I'm not in the best shape ever, and I definitely need to get back into Zumba but NOT to lose weight. I need to get some cardio going for my health. Hearts need cardio. But I don't have to be a 14 or 12 or 10 or 5. I'm not going swimsuit shopping with a camera any time soon, but I'm cool with my curves. And all those people who told me I'd be beautiful if...well, I know they meant well. They weren't being jerks on purpose. But they were being jerks, and they were feeding my self-loathing.I'm going to end this with my words on Facebook today: Girls, love your bodies. It's about health not inches. But I'm going to add one more thing: If you hate your bodies, it's deeper than that. Don't go there. Embrace who you are right now. In this moment. Regardless of the scale. Look in the mirror and say I am beautiful. And don't let anyone tell you differently. Be cool with your curves.(cross posted from my marybethlee blog)*****Current Liz Lee (steamy romance with heart) book Close to Home available on kindle!

Close to Home out! Yay!

War reporter Donovan “Tex” Nelson returns home looking for a way to escape the horrors of all he’s witnessed. He’s ready to find solace in the arms of a woman who understands the sanctity of a one night stand.
The last thing he expects is Kacie Jo Jenkins all grown up and ready to fulfill that request.
She’s his best friend’s little sister. He’s her fantasy quest.
When the fantasy becomes real leaving Kacie Jo pregnant, everything changes. 
Everything except the nightmares that haunt Donovan.

Close to Home by Liz Lee. Find it here.

Second Chance Hero Excerpt

Second Chance Hero is my fourth Liz Lee title. It's a reunion story, my favorite kind of romance. AND it's not only sexy, it's dark and dangerous, too. I LOVE that combination. The book's free today and tomorrow on Amazon. If you like chapter one go check the rest of the book out. When you're done, feel free to look at my other Liz Lee titles. All are an Amazon in kindle format. Texas Gold is also available in paperback.
 Rafe Hernandez hugged the teddy bear closer to his chest and nodded as his big brother spoke. “When we’re gone, you go to Ms. Palmer. Vàmanos. She knows someone who can help you and us. Disappear. Don’t talk to anyone but Ms. Palmer. Wait until afternoon. I’ll see you soon, I promise.”And then Miguel was gone. Rafe buried himself deeper to the ground. The dirt under the floor of his room was warm, dry and hard, leaving streaks on his Power Rangers t-shirt and shorts. He wiggled as close to the wall as he could, right up to a break in the foundation where he could peek outside.The bright moon should’ve made the night comforting. But Rafe’s arms trembled as he held the bear tighter. He was coming and there was nothing to be done. Nothing but what Miguel said. Ms. Palmer would help. Please Dios.The first cars drove over the gravel into his yard and Rafe closed his eyes. Prayed harder.Above his head he heard a door open, heard one pop, then another as his mamà screamed curses at the monster, known but unseen. And then Miguel’s voice sounded above all the others. Loud, angry. “You promised.” A laugh, low and angry echoed above and then his mother moaned low. “What do you want? Tell me. Anything.”But the laugh continued on and on.Rafe pulled himself into a ball, but he kept his eyes on the cars and when the black boots stepped out of his house, he saw the man wearing them. The man with the long black hair pulled into a ponytail and the scar down the right side of his face ending near his lip. The diamond in his ear and the sapphire ring on his finger glinted in the moonlight.Degas. The monster of the night.Two policemen with Degas talked about setting fire to the house but Degas shook his head. For a moment Rafe thought the man saw him watching and icy fear filled his veins. He couldn’t be caught. If he was, his family would be gone forever. He was their only hope.For a moment Degas studied their house as if in thought. Finally the man spoke. His voice loud and clear in the starry night. “Let their empty house stand as a reminder to all in this neighborhood. Don’t cross me. You can’t win.”Then they were gone. Along with Miguel and Momma.Ms. Palmer was the answer. The only answer.She had to be.
Lil Palmer erased the last red marker off her dry erase board and added the new assignment for tomorrow. Her students loved Gatsby. And she loved teaching it. She didn’t want to change the world. She just wanted to open it to these kids.Unfortunately, they didn’t make it to school all that often.She pushed her hair out of her face and sighed. She’d have to call the Hernandez family again. Solidad had dropped out of sight last week. Now Miguel. She’d had such high hopes. He was her top student. She logged onto her computer and looked up the Hernandez number, wrote it down, ignored the voice in her mind—the one that sounded suspiciously like her mother—telling her she was wasting time in this Texas border town when she had a perfectly good trust fund waiting for her back home. She picked up her cell phone, dialed the number and listened to it ring. Once. Twice. They didn’t have a machine. It was a miracle they had a phone.Sometimes this job was impossible.Miguel’s last essay sat on the top of her pile. His A+ the only one in the class. She dialed the number again but then stopped when a little boy stepped into her classroom.Rafe Hernandez. Miguel and Solidad’s third grade brother. His face streaked with the red dirt that was everywhere around here. A tattered bear at his side. She closed her phone, set it on her desk and smiled. Not wanting to upset him more than he already seemed, she reached to the Double Bubble container on her desk—the one every kid on campus seemed to know about—popped the top and waited.“Hey there, Rafe. Are you here to talk or just stopping by for some bubblegum?”The little boy looked behind him, the sweat on his brown brow not at all unusual in the late fall heat. He bit his lip, again, not unusual. He tended to be nervous in this part of the building. The big kids’ building. “Rafe. Do you want to come in?”His big brown eyes met hers and then he turned to look behind him again. When he walked into the room, he closed the door with his foot, and as he moved forward, Lil frowned because Rafe Hernandez wasn’t just sweating. He’d been crying. When he reached her desk, he leaned forward and spoke so low Lil barely heard him. “You must help me, Senorita Palmer. My family is gone. I am sorry to be here. But you have to help.”Gone. Okay. That wasn’t all that unusual either. INS raided San Mario often. But she hadn’t heard anything about it and that was odd.She reached out, touched the boy’s shoulder. Tried to find words of comfort. “It’ll be okay, Rafe. We’ll just….”The little boy shook his head and looked up at her with his frightened eyes. “You don’t understand Senorita Palmer. They were taken. By the policia and the bad man from Mexico. I saw it all. If they find me now, they will kill me. You must help me. Miguel said you knew someone who could help us.”The police? And a bad man from Mexico? Kill him? Lil’s heart dropped at the endless possibilities. She wished his words were nothing but a farce, but the terror in his eyes showed the truth. And she knew exactly what she had to do and who she had to call.
Boredom sucked.David Martinez licked his finger then folded down the edge of the paper space shuttle he’d just about perfected and told himself his current desk jockey punishment was well worth it. When you worked for Andrews Investigations you kept your cool.Truth was he hadn’t meant to ruin their last big bucks investigation, but when he’d seen Mr. Moneybags beating the crap out of his secret teenaged lover, he’d lost it.One minute he’d been sitting in the car taking pictures, making sure the Mrs. cashed in big when she filed for divorce and the next he was out of the car ramming Mr. Moneybags’ face into the hood.His phone rang and he picked it up to check the caller ID. The last person he wanted to talk to right now was his mother. She’d want him over for Thursday night supper. Her rellenos were great. But he had a date with the NFL Network and a six pack. No family tonight.But it wasn’t his mother on the line.It was Lil.Blonde Babe, Hot for Teacher, out to save the barrio Lil Palmer.Ah man. This could not be good. The last time he’d talked to Lil she’d made herself very clear. She was not interested in a good time. She was not interested in time at all where he was concerned.He flipped the phone open, imagined her full lips. “Hello, Sweet Lil.” That oughta get her.But it didn’t.“David. I need you to come to the school. Now.”Odd girl, Lil Palmer. Her low, sexy voice made him smile. “What happened to hasta la vista?”Pause. And then “This isn’t a game, David. Just…please, I don’t know who else to call. And be prepared. It’s not good.”Click. Conversation over.Ah damn.David didn’t need complications. He didn’t need to get dragged into another one of Lil’s bleeding heart campaigns. But he just couldn’t say no to her. For whatever reason, he was going to do exactly what she wanted.Again.He clipped his gun in his shoulder holster because bad news with Lil could be anything from a litter of puppies dumped on the side of the road to a baby abandoned at the school to a drunk dad trying to beat the hell out of one of her students. He’d walked all three of those roads and had the chocolate lab named Scamp, the headlines and the scar over his left eyebrow to prove it.He shrugged on his jacket, even though he was licensed to carry, and grabbed the keys to the beat up F150 he was driving until the GTO got out of the shop.The bossman was not going to like this.“I’m outa here. See you in a few.”He laughed at the crash of the chair, the expletives, the reminder that the workday wasn’t over for another two hours. Ah yeah. He definitely needed an intervention of the Lil kind.Hopefully he’d get something good out of it. Another night in her bed would be okay, but he’d settle for a kiss. Or hell, even a smile.‘Cause Lil was an angel when she smiled. That was for damn sure. 
A few minutes later, David walked into Lil’s classroom and relaxed. Lil and a kid. How bad could it be?“Hey, Lil. Who’s the little guy?”Poor boy’s whole body seemed to be shaking and the tear streaks on the dust-covered face of the boy she introduced as Rafe Hernandez had probably worked one hell of a number on Lil. But then Lil was an easy mark for half the kids in the barrio with her out-to-save-the-world-one-kid-at-a-time mentality. Man, she still looked hot with that flowerdy teacher dress she was wearing and the way she had her angel-colored hair up in a ponytail showing off that sensitive neck of hers all set against the backdrop of her classroom with the chalkboard and posters and nice, big desk, cleared off of everything but her calendar. Yeah. She was migh-ty fine.But he needed to focus on the reason she’d called.He bent down, took the little guy’s hand in his and gave him the reassuring smile that put most people at ease and had been getting him his way for as long as he could remember. “Señor Martinez. My brother told me Miss Palmer would call you.”Strange. He looked up at Lil and she shrugged but that worried look on her face got a touch deeper. Then Rafe Hernandez rocked his world.“The policia came to my house with Degas. They took everyone. I hid and watched, and I saw Degas, Señor Martinez. I saw him.”Holy crap. Lil and her Do-gooder’s-R-Us mentality had just stepped in where she might never step out.David turned and checked the windows. The swing rocking in the empty playground suddenly looked ominous. If this boy was telling the truth, they were in a whole heap of trouble here. He turned back to Rafe and tried not to freak the kid out.“Tell me how you know it was Degas.”No one saw Degas and lived to tell about it. At least he hadn’t been able to find anyone who had and he’d damn sure been trying.The little boy held his trashed teddy bear even closer, but he didn’t pause as he whispered. “I saw his scar. It ran from here to here.” His voice trembled as he pointed from his ear to his lip. “I saw the ring.” Rafe held up his index finger and David winced. The king ring. The scar. The little boy had definitely seen Degas. How in the hell had the kid’s brother known Lil would call him?“I thought maybe he saw me, but if he did, I would be gone too, sì?”Oh sì, hell yes, damn.Why oh why did Lil have to be a crusader? “You can help us, right?” Lil asked.Her husky voice hit him in all the wrong places. Us. Not him. She was already in this, and she wouldn’t get out. Not until she’d found victory or death.Oh man. She had no idea. No idea at all.This was going to take the help of the Feds. No problem since he worked with them. But then he didn’t want Lil to know about that bit of trivia because once she did, she’d put two and two together, come up with ten and hate him for real.Maldita sea. This little kid had just walked in and blown his last five years to hell and back. But maybe just maybe he was the key they’d been looking for.Everyone talked about Degas. But no one really knew him. David had almost decided he was something along the lines of the boogey-man. A story to terrorize local kids into walking the straight and narrow.Almost. But not quite. Not with the number of girls disappearing on both sides of the border or with the increase in drug traffic from Mexico to the US. Or with the bodies. At least with bodies families had closure. David blew out a deep breath and wiped his hand over his face as he tried to focus on the positive in this bombshell.“Yeah. I can help, but I can’t make any guarantees, Lil. You said this was bad. You have no freakin’ idea how bad it is.”
The seriousness in David’s eyes as he stared out her window, taking in every possible angle scared Lil almost as much as the idea of Miguel and Solidad with a man like this Degas Rafe talked about. Because David didn’t do serious. In fact, the man standing in her classroom was almost a stranger. He might look like the world-class playboy she’d tried to love, but the dark danger exuding from him was new and scary and, if she was honest with herself, a little intriguing. As she watched, David squatted down in front of Rafe so they were on the same eye-level. “You just walked in the school, no big?” he asked sounding completely calm, easing the tension emanating from the boy.Rafe nodded, looking at David with complete trust. “I waited until after the last bell and then I came in the back door. I didn’t see anyone but Mr. Pipes.”The janitor. Surely that was okay. She loved Mr. Pipes. He handed out peppermints and never erased her boards unless she asked. He couldn’t be involved with anyone like the man Rafe had described.“You sure no one followed you?”“Sì Señor. If they had, I would be dead or disappeared too, no?”Rafe talked about death and disappearance as if they were every day occurrences, and David responded as if that made perfectly logical sense. She started to ask why, but before she could speak, David stood back up, ran a hand through his thick black hair and pulled a gun out from under his jacket, and she could only stare. A gun. On campus. As in federal offense.  What was he thinking? “David, you know who to call, right?” He gave her a look she couldn’t quite interpret, but if she’d hurt his Mr. Macho feelings, too bad. “I’m taking the kid to my place,” he said. “Follow in about five minutes, but don’t get in too big of a hurry.”Right. A madman was out there after Rafe and she was going to take her time following them.He didn’t give her a chance to question his plan. Instead he shocked her even more. “Here take this.” He shoved the gun in her hand and she started to protest, but then thought about Rafe’s story and decided the gun was a good idea even if she didn’t know how to use it. “What about….”“Got another in the glove compartment.” And then he was standing behind her, wrapping her hands with his around the gun. One to steady, one to pull the trigger. His hot breath whispered across her cheek as he spoke and she told herself to breathe, to focus on anything other than his hands, his hard body, the spicy scent of his cologne. This David she knew all too well. “If anyone tries to hurt you, don’t point and shoot, don’t try to aim, just hold the gun to your chest, pull the trigger fast and scream bloody murder and someone will be there to help shortly. Just remember, Lil, you asked me for help.”When he stepped away, the gun was cold and heavy in her hand, and when his eyes met hers, she swallowed. His he-who-does-no-wrong smile clicked back in place, totally at odds with the deadly advice he’d just given.“You want me to take this,” she held up the gun and tried not to hyperventilate, “then wait around a few minutes before following you to your apartment?” He must’ve read something in the incredulous look on her face because he tried to put her at ease. Which was crazy. She had a gun in her hand. Ease was totally out of the question.  “Look, Lil. The kid’s right. If Degas knew he was here, you’d probably both already be dead.”Oh now, that was reassuring. “Probably being the operative word.” David rubbed the skin between his nose in frustration. “Lil, if someone’s out there looking for this kid and they see us leave together, you’re screwed. I’m not willing to take that chance.”She hated the way her body responded when he looked into her eyes and poured on his whole concern routine. “You’re worried enough to give me a gun I have no idea how to use.”David closed his eyes, rubbed the scar on his eyebrow, the one he’d gotten because of her, then blew out a long breath as he looked out her window again before speaking.“I need you to trust me here, Lil. Trust me when I say you’ll be safe.”Trust him? With her heart, absolutely not. With her safety, maybe. Still, there was something… “How can you be sure?”David looked down at Rafe, out the window, then back at her, and she wondered about the resignation she saw there a moment before he spoke. “There’s a black car at the end of the street just beyond the playground.”Peeking out the window, she followed the line of his finger, saw the car at the same time he held up his phone, switched it to speaker and spoke. “I’m in the classroom with Lil Palmer. I’m going to leave the building within two minutes. You stay behind and follow her. Just like before. Flash your lights now to show her you understand.”The car’s lights flashed once and Lil looked from David to the car and back, confused, but David didn’t give her a chance to ask questions.“I’ll tell you everything when you get to the apartment. But the kid and I need to get out of here now, Lil. I don’t want you hurt, and this is the only way I can see to make sure that happens.”Okay. She could agree to his plan. She didn’t have to like it, but obviously David was involved in something big here. “I guess I don’t really have a choice.”His sexy smile back in place, he once again looked like the playboy she’d almost fallen for instead of the serious secretive man from a minute ago. “Give us five, then do what I said. We’ll be waiting for you at my place.”With those words, David grabbed Rafe’s hand, looking like a sexy single dad with a kid in detention, and walked out the door.A few seconds later they were in his truck, leaving the gravel parking lot as if some monster named Degas wasn’t going to kill them both if he found out the truth. The black car didn’t move and she wondered how often it had been there, blending in with the rest of the cars parked on the side of the road.She packed her bag with shaking hands, then made sure she had the gun covered with her sweater and her keys out and ready if she needed them.The halls were dark and cool and down at the very end she saw Mr. Pipes swirling the mop back and forth across the floor. The buffing machine must be broken. “You calling it a day Miss Palmer?” Try to be normal. Lil said the words to herself as she forced a smile. “Oh, it’s definitely been a day. I’ll see you tomorrow.”Mr. Pipes laughed as he continued mopping the entry to the school. “You can count on that, Miss Palmer. You can count on that.”
By the time she made it to David’s apartment, Lil was feeling a tad bit cranky and a whole lot scared. A monster by the name of Degas was out there stalking the citizens of San Mario, Texas, and David—playboy, goofball, great for a good time—Martinez knew about some unknown person in a black car she hadn’t seen since leaving the school. The hair on the back of her neck stood on end and she turned, but once again, no one was there. She climbed up the stairs armed with a mental list of questions. Only she didn’t get a chance to ask them. Because the minute he opened the door, David claimed her mouth with his in a very public kiss that reminded her again of why she’d told him to hit the road. David Martinez kissed with the promise of heaven, delivered just that and then left a girl feeling all alone when she couldn’t give him what he wanted. He wanted too much and not enough. He wanted her heart, but only on his terms. No promises of forever. She wasn’t even sure the kind of love David wanted existed. Without a commitment, she hadn’t been willing to try to hard to find out.Still, she couldn’t help giving back as good as she got. When he came up for air, she saw the glazed, determined look in his eyes and frowned. It didn’t matter how he kissed. No way was she willing to play pretend. He was going to answer her questions and he was going to answer them now. She started to push her way past, but he leaned in close to her neck.Oh Dear Lord. He remembered.Only he didn’t. Instead he put his mouth right next to her ear and whispered, “You’re doing a great job, Lil. They’re watching. Make this one better.”#Remember, if you like an author's work and want to support them, one of the best things you can do is leave a short review of their work on Amazon and Goodreads. Have an amazing day!

Writing Time

This week I read an article on Mashable that said to view your time on social media as billable hours. It's not the first time I've read the advice, but this time, I actually paid attention. WOW. I know I'm not alone in this, but the time I spend posting funnies on Facebook and reading how everyone's doing is sucking so much of my life away. If I keep up the social media hours I've been putting in, I'm going to have to wake up at 4 a.m. to break even in writing time. I thought giving up Bejewled Blitz last year was enough. Nope. Not going to cut it.
I can't quit Facebook, though. I love it. I love reconnecting with classmates and sharing with friends and family. But I've got to at least try to limit the time I spend there.
I hope that works.
If it doesn't, I might have to go Facebook free.

Just Don't Do It: Advice for Writers

My first bad review was one word. "Awful."Thankfully the same book, Honor and Lies by Elizabeth Lee, had glowing reviews and recommendations from people I've never met, not just my mother. :)That first bad review started a bad habit it took me a while to kick. I found myself logging on to Amazon's Author Central and searching for reviews. Looking to see what people thought of my latest work. I wasted hours. Here's the deal:Not everyone will love your books. Doesn't matter if you're Nora, Susan Elizabeth Phillips, Karen Templeton or the next Stephenie Meyer.Some people will hate your words. Some will love them. Some will feel strongly enough about your work that they'll write reviews to share their thoughts with others. Some will love your stories so much they'll pass them on to friends. Some will hate them so much they'll write one word reviews of your books. In the end, if you're worried about reviews, you're wasting your time. You're the writer. You release the work to the readers. They make what they will of that work. It's no longer yours. You, dear writer, should focus on the next story. And the next. And the next.Leave the reviews alone. #
My new book Second Chance Hero (steamy contemporary romantic suspense) is out on Amazon. If you read it and like it, let others know!

Two Simple Rules for Writing

I was a late reader. My military dad's career bounced me from Oklahoma to Arkansas to Minnesota by first grade. When we landed in Minneapolis, every other student in the classroom could read. That was back in the day of tracked reading groups. I earned the status of sole member of the red group. I was just six, but I distinctly remember the embarrassment of being the only one in the group. Fortunately, I had a great teacher (Mrs. Tagee) who didn't let me flounder in that group for long. The next year I was in a blended second/third grade class. By the end of that year I was one of the top academic performers in all areas except math.My first big book was Little Women. I'd already read all the Little House books and my fourth grade teacher, Mrs Baumgardner, wanted to challenge me. She picked the perfect book. I couldn't wait to read about Jo and Meg and Amy and Beth. I loved Jo and hated Amy. In my opinion, Aunt March was the most evil villain ever. My heart broke when Beth died. I never really connected with Meg, but that was okay. Without her, I'm not sure what the other March girls would have done. I already loved books, but Little Women deepened that passion. It always surprises me when students tell me they want to write, but when I ask them what they're reading, they don't have an answer. In my classes and workshops I tell my kids if they want to be great writers, they MUST do two things: 1. Read 2. Write. I break the second step down into more pieces over the course of the class, but the first is pretty much a stand alone with an extra caveat. The required reading they do for English isn't enough.If we get a chance to talk more on the subject, the students who don't read usually tell me they loved reading until fifth grade. Something happens then that makes them hate it. Usually the something has to do with their required school reading, but sometimes it's just that they get distracted by other pastimes like video games. I'm glad I grew up in a time with fewer distractions. Books were my constant companions. The boring required reading didn't bother me. I just kept my copy of Tiger Beat or a Silhouette Teen Romance tucked in the pages of the book the teacher thought I was reading. I didn't have to check my Facebook notifications or tweet the latest fascinating tidbit someone passed along in class. I struggle with the distractions today when it comes to writing. If I log on to Facebook for a minute, that minute becomes two hours. My writing plans can get demolished by a Doctor Who or Buffy marathon thanks to Netflix. But distractions don't keep me away from reading. Not ever.I'll stick to my writing rules for classes: 1. Read 2. Write. And every day I'll quietly say thank you to the teachers who helped that love for words come to life.

I was missing my old bookstore, but then I found Goodreads

When I was in college, a classmate introduced me to Johanna Lindsey. One Mallory novel and I was hooked. Waldenbooks sat in the center of the mall. The employees knew my name within a month. Before long they were calling me to tell me a new Lindsey was out or handing me other authors to try. Because of Waldenbooks I fell in love with Julie Garwood. And it spiraled from there. I spent half my paycheck at the store, and back then, I was a broke college student. I was reading 25 books a semester for school and 50 a semester for fun. I LOVED Waldenbooks. When the store closed, I was devastated. A few years ago BAM moved into a huge space in the mall, and for a while, it looked like they were about that kind of bookstore service, but after a year they fired their expert sources. Once again I was thrown into the mass of books with no idea where to turn. I got lucky and stumbled onto Karen Marie Moning because of a friend, Karen Templeton because of eHarlequin and tons of other of great books and authors because of Desert Isle Keepers or other review sites, but I missed so many awesome stories. Enter Goodreads. I've known about Goodreads for a couple years, but yesterday I started looking around it more. Holy Cow! I'm in love. The lists are amazing. I've got so many 2013 books on my want-to-read shelf now, I'm probably set. I've joined three groups. I'd like to join more, but I'm afraid if I do, I'll never get work done. :) From a reader standpoint Goodreads is invaluable. From the writer's standpoint, I imagine it's going to be important to keep my reader self and writer self separate. The most annoying thing on twitter is all the spam from people peddling their books. Goodreads seems to be spam free. If you don't have a Goodreads account, go get one now. If you do, make sure to friend me. :)

Happy New Year, a new book, and resolutions oh my!

I've loved 2012, but I am more than ready for 2013. I've done a cruddy job blogging here. That's got to change. I'm so excited about the books I'll be releasing this year. I hope my readers love them. It's so much fun to write romance. My husband likes to tell people I write steamy books somewhere between Harlequin Romance and 50 Shades. I just laugh.
He's my ultimate hero. He's such a huge part of who I am today. Back when we met my life was headed in a different direction. He believed in me, supported me, encouraged me.
<3
My resolutions this year:

Write, write, write. I want to do Candy Havens' FastDraft at least three times this year. If you're a writer, check out Havens' Fast Draft class if you can. It's AMAZING!Continue submitting to publishers. I'm an indie author, and I love it. I realize the book world is changing. But I want to be a Harlequin author. It's been my dream FOREVER. My first romance was a Presents. Greek shipping tycoon meets virginal secretary who's won a vacation. He sees her, loves her on sight, steals her away and holds her captive on his ship. Totally, completely, 100% wrong on every level imaginable, and still I LOVED it. My cousin and I read it secretly in 7th grade. I think she stole it from her mother. From then on I was hooked. I devoured the books. My high school librarian subscribed to the Harlequin books and let me be the first reader. When I attended a national conference a Silhouette author gave me her flower the company had given the authors on the way into the Harlequin/Silhouette party. That flower sits on my bedside table, a constant reminder of my dream.Work on giving back more. I want to do more critiques and be more of a cheerleader for my writing friends. Blog more often. :)New book: January will mark my next new release on kindle: Second Chance Hero, a steamy romantic suspense. It's a reunion story, my favorite kind of romance. In the meantime, don't forget you can find my other books on Amazon, and as always if you read my books and enjoy them, please rate them and write a short review to others can find them too. Have an amazing new year!