Liz Lee's Blog, page 4

One of my favorite scene intros in Meg's book

Warning, what follows is steamy.

It's not much, but...


God, he sounded like some kind of romantic fool even to himself. He couldn’t just say the words. Couldn’t say hey, I know it looks like we’re headed to my room to get it on, but I don’t want to minimize what’s going on between us. Especially when everything in him really, really wanted to minimize it.
He wanted to get her out of that sexy as hell dress and worship every inch of her sweet body. He wanted to taste her nipples and the skin behind her knees, wanted to know how she responded to the sweep of his fingers along her ribcage. He wanted to know how she’d sound when he pressed inside her again and again until they both found completion. 
He desperately wanted all that. But dammit all, he wanted more.

The book will be out this month. It's been delayed and delayed and delayed.
I work 50-56 hours a week at the day job October-March. I tried to write full time and ended up sick, sick, sick. I'm regrouping, learning how to be a healthy author and still be respectful of my body's limitations.

It's not easy. When it comes to my writing, I get started, and I don't want to stop. I used to be able to write until 2 a.m. and work, no problem. Those days are over. Steady must be my new mantra.
<3

A Chance at Forever Available Today!

I LOVE A Chance at Forever! Becky is nothing like me. She shops at Home Depot for fun. She can BUILD things. She was a beauty queen until....well, you'll have to read the story for that. :)

Reformed bad girl Becky Saunders doesn’t do forever. She’s remade her life, and she’s happy with how things are, thank you very much.
When Jeremiah Cannon walks into her office, she’s interested in getting to know the sexy former military man better, on her terms. And her terms are always the same: no strings attached.
Jeremiah Cannon doesn’t need a relationship. He’s back in town to reconnect with his younger brother. A relationship will just get in the way. But from the moment he meets Becky Saunders, something about her calls to him, attracts him in a way he can’t ignore. Jeremiah’s not interested in a fling, though. Convincing Becky to take a chance at forever won’t be easy, but it sure will be fun.


One more book in this series. I'm going to be sad to leave these characters!

Gone Fishing...AKA NaNoWriMo

I'll be back to regular programming after November or once I finish Zoe's book.
Becky's book is still in copy edits. That took a little longer than expected because of the day job.

For now, here's a sneak peek:


Becky wanted to throw her phone across the room when the alarm started squawking at 5 a.m. because she’d forgotten to turn it off for Saturday. After thirty minutes tossing and turning trying to force herself back into sleep mode, she gave in and got up. No sense wasting away, frustrated over something that wasn’t going to happen.Too bad she hadn’t been able to move on from the kiss that was the reason rest wasn’t so easy last night.Guys sucked. She’d learned that lesson a long time ago and it kept on hammering home.She padded into her kitchen in her bare feet and sighed as she looked at the sugar-free yogurt mocking her from the fridge. Her weekend fling was a bust but that didn’t mean all her plans were dead. She needed real carbs. The worst kid of carbs. Grandma’s cinnamon roll french toast carbs. It might take hours to make, but it was totally worth it. And she had hours since she was up before sunrise on a day off. Ugh.Three hours later she had three pans of cinnamon rolls—nuts, plain and raisins—and no one to share them with. The idea of turning them into french toast no longer appealed. Nothing much appealed. At least the sun was shining.And she had a pot of fresh ground coffee. And a full day of nothingness.Blah. She hated those days.Her Mama would say bored was a choice. Jackie Saunders knew all about keeping busy. She’d kept Becky busy every weekend growing up on the pageant circuit, winning tiaras and trophies and sashes and puppies. She never let her keep the puppy, though. Said they didn’t have time to take care of the sweet babies.Surprisingly her heart hurt at the memory, and Becky rolled her eyes at herself. Those days were long gone. She could have a puppy any time she wanted. She must still be stinging from last night’s rejection.She slathered a tablespoon of butter on one of the steaming hot rolls, poured herself a cup of coffee and added real cream and sugar and hipped her back door open so she could sit on her porch and enjoy the brisk morning air.With every bite of the bread-y deliciousness and every sip of the creamy goodness she thumbed her nose at her mother’s quest for a daughter with the perfect Miss America body.But the resentment building inside her kept her from enjoying the food and drink, so she put them both aside and closed her eyes searching for that Zen place Meg tried to teach her about.No good. All closing her eyes did was remind her of Jeremiah Cannon practically running away from her after that soul shattering kiss.Dang it.So far Meg hadn’t responded to her good morning text, which meant either Meg and Cliff had a very interesting night or Meg was sleeping in or maybe even both. No sense texting Patty because she was at the library where she spent every Saturday working with her children’s literacy program.She thumbed past her mother’s cheery Morning Darlin’ smiley face. What she needed was a project. Something awesome and wonderful and super sweaty. Something where she could play in the dirt and get messy.This called for Pinterest.Ten minutes later she had her answer. The fire pit she’d pinned the day before. They even had how-to videos on YouTube. Easy peasy.Boredom be gone.
Jeremiah made his list and checked it twice. He walked through the house once more, making sure he hadn’t left anything off. Cleaning up the home he’d grown up in wasn’t going to be easy, but it was the right thing to do. Maybe he’d get lucky and Nick would take an interest in some of the remodels. If nothing else it would take his mind off Becky Saunders. She’d haunted his dreams all night and he’d woken up this morning wondering what kind of fool he’d been to push her away.He’d wanted to strip her naked before the kiss. But that wasn’t going to happen, no matter how hard the memory of her lips on his made him.He’d called the garage and they’d towed the truck in to give him an estimate.That left him the car in the garage. His mother’s old car. The Buick. His mechanic swore he could turn it for a quick buck if he wanted to. The thing was perfect for a lowrider, and the kids loved the 80s style. Fortunately he hadn’t sold the car. Better yet, it started like a charm when he turned the key. Too bad it drove like a freaking tank and had five years worth of dust on it.He wiped down the windows with windex and newspaper then made his way to the hardware store.The last person he expected to see there was Becky Saunders. But just as he parked the car there she was pushing a cart through the parking lot.She was wearing yellow athletic shorts and a navy sweatshirt and those furry boots that made his feet sweat just thinking about them.Damn, she looked hot.And messy.Her hair was pulled up in a side ponytail, but it was spilling all around her neck like it didn’t want to be tied back. And she had something white on her cheeks, forehead and nose.She was a contradiction. A contradiction he very much wanted to get to know better even though that was a colossally stupid idea.He slammed the car door shut because slamming was the only way to close it and jogged to her side.“Fancy meeting you here,” he said, trying for casual cool.She stopped moving, then turned to face him.Yeah. Flour. Streaked on her face.Hot.“How did you get here? Your truck’s at Rosa’s.”She actually sounded pissed. “I’ve got my ways,” he said shooting for mysterious. Funny how the light of day made it easier to tease her. Last night had nearly killed him.She turned and scanned the parking lot zeroing in on the car then looking at him like he was nuts. “If that thing doesn’t start when you come out, you’re on your own.”He smiled. “It’s been starting for years without a problem. I think it’ll be okay. Nice look you got going on this morning.”She ignored him and started pushing her cart forward again. The right thing to do was to let her go. He couldn’t do it.Three quick steps and he caught up. “I especially like the flour on your face. Makes you look domesticated.”That stopped her again. She turned to face him with narrowed eyes. “I do not have flour on my face.”“Sure do,” he said, and then he reached forward and brushed it away in three quick moves. One cheek, two cheek, forehead, gone.Touching her equated to liquid fire. Heat jumped from his fingers to his crotch in three seconds flat. He should’ve known better.She bit her bottom lip and that reminded him of how he’d done the same last night in the car like a kid on his first date. Damn. She was too freaking hot for words.He swallowed and nudged her cart forward just barely but enough so she’d move.“I hate you,” she said, and he laughed out loud. “What?”She stopped the cart and turned to him again. “You,” she said sticking her lovely finger into his chest, “are a tease. And I don’t have time for that or the carb count to waste. Sugar goes straight to my hips. Because of you, I ate my weight in the substance this morning. So yeah, I hate you. Now get out of my way. I’ve got things to do.”She pushed her cart forward in what would have been an inspired exit, he figured, but the front wheel was all wonky so it started making a chunk, chunk, chunk sound and she had to fight to keep it going straight.Her yellow shorts just barely covered her sweet derriere and her legs…damn. She was short. Maybe 5’3. But in those shorts her legs looked like they went on forever.Three easy steps and he caught back up to her again. “I like your hips. I like sugar, too. I think you should keep doing whatever it is you’re doing because it looks good on you.”“Tease,” she said pushing the cart, clonk, clonk, clonk.He couldn’t stop his smile. “It’s just no for now, you know. Once things settle down, maybe….”She stopped the cart again and whirled on him. “I don’t do maybes, Jeremiah. I take moments. Our moment passed. We can be friends, probably. No, definitely. You said you like my hips. A guy says something like that and you need him in your life if possible. But last night was our moment. Today…I’m not interested. Today, I’m busy. See ya.”And with that she pushed the cart away, and he knew he’d have to be careful around her. As hot as he suddenly found himself, he thought spontaneous combustion might be an issue.

It's Friday

And....I bet that song ran through your brain for a few seconds and in that moment, you kind of sort of hated me.


I love Fridays. Today I think I'll indulge in a dance party or two. And they will be glorious.


I love dance parties. Usually they're what we do when the computer network goes down at work. Used to most of my classes would join in. Not so much these days. BUT I still love them. I hope our network does not go down today. I'm going to have a dance party anyway. And this weekend, I'm going to have a blast learning about writing, hopefully watching the Stars kick butt and eating lots of fried food.
I'm going to dance, dance, dance. I'm not going to freak out. I'm not going to worry. I'm going to have a blast.
Because it's Friday. And Fridays are awesome.
<3

PS I experimented with gifs this week. I don't know if I'll use them again, but it was fun.
PPS I actually LIKE that song.

Don't Forget to Live

You know, Dumbledore is probably one of the wisest characters in literature.
Last year I wrote five books. I know to some people that's chump change. A blip on the radar or the writing life.
For me it was huge.
And I loved it.
And I love those books.
BUT
I have this problem when it comes to work. I sometimes get so engaged in work I love that I forget to live.
And when that happens, I suffer, my family suffers, my art suffers.
I'm going to work on that this year.
Writing is my fun job. It's what I do in addition to teaching. And I love it.
But I can't focus so much on creating new worlds that I forget to embrace the world I live in.
Yes, I have a dream. A dream to write great books others love that end in happily ever after.
But I also want to live out loud.
I want to have a blast traveling the world and playing. I want to go camping and hiking. I want to take pictures that make people wish they were with me. I want to remember how much I love DH every day and I want to have fun with him.
I want to have a blast preparing for my grandbaby (Seriously!!!). And then, once she's here, I want to see her as often as possible even though DD lives 1300 miles away now.
Dreams are wonderful, but I need to remember to live. <3

That moment you start to wonder about travel

I'm a world traveller. Seriously. I LOVE going places. Places like Dallas. And Ireland. And Paris. And England. And...well, anywhere really.
So this Ebola thing is kind of freaking me out.


Which is stupid because Ebola kills way fewer people than the flu.
I had swine flu in 2009. It sucked.
I got it because kids kept coming to school even though they were deathly ill. They came to school because they didn't want to take finals.
Ugh.
Anyway, I KNOW Ebola is a bad deal, an AWFUL disaster of epic proportions in Africa and a dangerous situation for the world. But I also believe the CDC and WHO are working to get this thing under control.
But in the back of my brain I'm thinking maybe it's not worth it to make the trek across the state to go to my writing meeting, see the Stars and indulge in fried goodness at the State Fair.
I bet I'm not alone.

Sometimes you need a kick in the backside

How I'm feeling today. That is all.



Okay, that's a lie. It will never be all. The thing about Buffy is she fought back. She kicked ass. She found out her destiny was death and she went out and took care of business anyway.
Yeah, yeah, yeah, Buffy is fiction. But she's awesome fiction. And when I'm feeling whiny, BtVS helps.
So yeah, I needed to see this today. And I needed to say it, too.
The end.

No, you don't have to write every day but....

You know how it goes with diets, right? How you can be the best dieter ever for years and then you break. You give in and eat pancakes and the next thing you know your daily menu is filled with deliciously bad for you foods like biscuits and gravy and Heath Bars and fried pickles.
That's the way it is with writing for some people.
(And by some people, I mean me.)
I can write every day and then take a small break and then that break will turn to a week, which will turn to a month before I know it.
So yes, you don't have to write every day, but be aware of your writing. Set production goals. Meet those goals. Don't forget to dream big. And put those dreams somewhere visible. If you don't it's easy for life to take over and chase the dream away. And then that month of not writing becomes a year of not writing. And that year becomes plural. And then you're that person talking to the author in the bookstore about the book you started forever ago and will get back to one day.

Chocolate and Me and a Give Away

Anderson House Chocolatiers isn't a real place. I made it up for my books. But ever since I made it up, ever since I started writing about the place, chocolate taunts me.
I'm living a low-carb lifestyle. I did so for a little over two years with no problem. None. And then Anderson House was born.AND suddenly chocolate tempts again. I gave in last February. Thought I could handle a day of chocolatey goodness. And I did. Only every day become a battle. And then this summer hit and I forgot all about living low-carb. I swear to you this chips in my pantry, the ones my husband who can eat anything any time eats, called my name. I don't even LIKE chips, but I ate them. And then I still wanted sugar. I decided to give myself a break. Eat a little Ben & Jerry's and get it all out of my system.BIG MISTAKE.It was like two years of low carb meant nothing. Sugar was in my brain all the time. It consumed my thoughts. I didn't realize until this week of revisions that my problem with sugar showed up around the same time as Anderson House Chocolatiers showed up in the It Started in Texas series. And Anderson House showed up because I LOVE Wiseman House in Hico, Texas.Hmmmmmm.Interesting.If you don't know Wiseman House, you are missing out. Best chocolate ever. I promise. Anderson House is complete make believe. Wiseman House is a fantasy but 100% real.

AND now for the give away: Chocolate & The Real Deal. Enter to win between now and Oct. 17. (US residents only) A Wiseman House Chocolates Wild Woman Truffle bar and the kindle version of The Real Deal. Enter by signing up for the newsletter and/or liking my fan page.
<3


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Conflict

I'm watching The World Series of Poker on ESPN and these two guys are embroiled in conflict. At first one was the jerk and the other was laughing it off. Then the laugher quit laughing. And then it just got ugly. And the whole time I'm watching, I'm thinking UGH!!! Stop! Be nice!
In poker when you get in a situation like that it messes up your play if you let the jerk get in your brain OR you get emotionally involved and become the aggressor.
Watching this is painful. Almost as bad as the RHONJ table turning scene. I hate it.
AND
I guess that's why I commit the nice-nice sin so often in my books.
I want things to be easy. But easy doesn't translate well in books. Sure, I want the happy ending when I read. I want to know I'm getting the HEA. But please, fool me through the book until the end.
I'm reading The Sweetness of Honey by Alison Kent right now. She handles conflict PERFECTLY.
I try to learn something with every book I read. With this one I think it's going to be about conflict. Kent has created characters with great internal conflict and external conflict between the characters. And she's done it in a way that doesn't make the reader uncomfortable.
I figure it's going to take me forever to master the art of conflict in writing. I'll never be comfortable being around conflict in life. I'm still watching WSOP, but man, I hope these guys stop being jerks.