Lorenda Christensen's Blog, page 8

I’ll Take Care of That for You: Working with a Virtual Assistant

As authors take on more tasks from the business side of publishing, many are discovering the need for help with everything from database management to marketing and beyond. The virtual/personal assistant (V/PA) service industry is rapidly evolving, yet many authors hesitate to take advantage of these services. The reasons vary but include concerns about affordability and confidentiality, accessibility, and skepticism about how useful a part-time personal assistant can be.

 

Author Heather Ashby and Maria Connor of My Author Concierge have worked together for more than two years. Today we have them on the blog to tell us how they built a working relationship as author and assistant.

 

 

                  

Question: Heather, what made you decide to look for a personal assistant in the first place and how did you end up working with Maria Connor?

 

HA: When I sold my series, I suddenly needed a website and Facebook page and all this technical stuff I didn’t have a clue about. I was constantly asking my RWA chapter-mate, Maria Connor, for help. I felt bad that I kept bothering her with questions about technology and promotions, but she always had the answers. Then I got a brilliant idea and asked her if I could hire her to help me.

 

Question: So it just kind of evolved organically Maria, how did you come to launch My Author Concierge?

 

MC: I never had any intention of starting my own business, but after Heather landed her four-book series with Henery Press, she discovered she needed support and I discovered I had the skill set to provide that support. Eventually I realized there were many other authors in need of such services. Given my background as a writer, it made sense to cater to authors, but in the past nine months I’ve also gained a few non-author clients. I’ve learned there is a tremendous market among small business owners (which includes authors) for the types of services I offer.

 

Question: What services does a personal assistant offer?

 

HA: Based on what other authors have told me, personal assistants do everything from scheduling and office-type work to accompanying authors to conferences and book signings. Some coordinate promotional events, manage social media, and serve as a point of contact for authors. “My” personal assistant designed and maintained my website, helps me keep my social media channels active and up to date, helps with scheduling, intercedes with my marketing director, and serves as an all-around resource when I’m faced with the next, newest situation as a published author. When I get overloaded, she’s also been known to talk me down off the ledge, usually by speaking the magic words, “I’ll take care of that for you.”

 

MC: There are a variety of virtual and personal assistants available for authors and each seems to offer their own catalog of services. My background includes decades as an administrative assistant, several years as a professional freelance writer and journalist, and a mishmash of self-taught skills such as basic web design. This diversity of experience allows me to offer perhaps a wider range of services than other assistants (a full listing is available at http://www.myauthorconcierge.com/Serv...). The important thing for authors to keep in mind is verifying the credibility of the skills and abilities personal assistants claim to possess. I’ve found some individuals marketing their editing and proofreading services based on years of being a romance writer. That’s a red flag to me. They may be qualified as beta readers but not as editors.

 

Question: Heather, as an author, what is the biggest advantage of having a personal assistant?

 

HA: I can’t speak for other authors but just knowing I have someone to help when things get crazy-busy is a huge relief. It’s nice to know whatever needs doing, Maria will smile and get it done. One of my favorite times was when Kristan Higgins invited me to appear on her blog on the same day I’d promised to help organize my church rummage sale. Maria took my place and priced white elephant items all day for me so I could reply to blog comments. (I think the old ladies at church liked her more than they like me!)

 

Question: Talk about personalized service! Maria, what is your biggest challenge as an author assistant?

 

MC: Heather was my first client and one of the challenges we both faced was learning how to work together. We get along fabulously, but what we had to identify and negotiate were professional boundaries, turnaround times, accessibility and accountability. There were times Heather would email numerous requests and I was stopping and starting other work throughout the day to complete these tasks. Eventually we developed a schedule. She now sends me a weekly To Do list on Thursdays and I work on them through the next Monday. I often get new clients who want help managing their writing business but haven’t quite figured out what that means. Part of my job is helping them decided what can be handed off to me and what their relationship style is—do they want to be copied on emails or do they just want me to get it done?

 

Question: What advice would you offer to authors considering hiring a virtual/personal assistant?

 

HA: One of the unique things about my working relationship with Maria is that we’ve both “grown” into our current partnership. At times we each encountered awkward learning curves, but we were committed to honest communication, mutual respect and high-quality work ethics. I think any personal assistant worth her salary will offer these qualities.

 

MC: Here are my five top tips for finding a reliable personal assistant: 1) Ask for re from other authors; 2) Ask potential V/PAs for recommendations from current clients; 3) Be specific about what you need assistance with; 4) Consider hiring someone for a single project or on a trial basis; and 5) Realize there is some degree of “chemistry” required for a positive working relationship—make sure you are compatible with your V/PA.

 

Well, thank you so much for stopping by, ladies.  I’m sure our readers got a lot of insight into what an author’s personal assistant does J . For more insight into virtual assistants, stop by their workshop at RWA Nationals. You can also post comments and questions below.

Blogger Bios:

 

Heather Ashby is the author of Love in the Fleet, a four-book series from Henery Press. The series currently released titles include Forgive & Forget and Forget Me Not, with two more slated for release in 2014 and 2015. An award-winning author of romantic fiction, Heather is a member of RWA, and also belongs to regional/specialty chapters, including The Golden Network and First Coast Romance Writers. Additionally, she holds memberships in RomVets and the Military Writers Society of America. For more information, visit www.heatherashby.com. 

 

Maria Connor has worked as a freelance writer, journalist and author in print and digital media for more than 10 years. As the owner and founder of My Author Concierge, her professional experience also encompasses marketing, book promotion and social media management. She is a member of Romance Writers of America and holds memberships in numerous specialty and regional chapters, including The Golden Network, Kiss of Death, RWA-San Diego, Outreach International Romance Writers, First Coast Romance Writers, Contemporary Romance Writers and Passionate Ink. She has been active in the romance fiction community for more than 15 years, volunteering at both the national and local level. Additional information about Maria can be found at www.sexysassyromance.com and www.myauthorconcierge.com.

ReVision: A Powerful Tool in Writing and Life

 

For those who are writers, you’re familiar with the word revision. Some of us dread the word. Others relish it.

 If we break it down into its two components, here’s what we get:

 RE– to do again

VISION– to see

 So technically we’re talking about seeing something again, looking at something again.

 When it comes to the craft of writing, revision is an absolutely necessary part of the process. Few—if any—get the exact words on the page in their first draft. So, revision is the time to massage your prose. Tweak your dialogue. Sharpen the focus in a scene. Weave in the phrases that really drive home the emotional impact.

 I understand that the revision process only makes my work better.

 But, as I’ve gotten older and gone through multiple life changes in more recent years I’ve come to recognize that the word revision can also have an impact on both my personal and professional lives.

 Think about it… we “revise” some aspect of our life every January 1st, when we come up with our New Year’s resolutions.  For me, I get another chance to consider something else about myself that needs revising or improving a couple months later when Lent arrives. In the summer, I’ll typically to RWA National and come back with a new idea, new initiative, new drive… my outlook has been revised thanks to the energy, info and connections found at an RWA national conference.

I have to admit though, change is difficult for me. As much as I might wanna be a risk taker, my natural inclination is to lean back, take in all the info I can and ease into the change once I feel comfortable enough to decide. 

This month, I’m going through revisions on multiple levels. Writing-wise I am knee-deep into revising my latest manuscript. Now, because my agent has been patiently waiting, I gingerly say “knee-deep” when what I really need to be is waist-deep, neck-deep, and even over-my-head-deep into revisions. I’m slowly getting there. Trying to keep in mind that this painful process will ultimately mean that my manuscript is the best it can possibly be.

Personally, I’ve had some major life changes in recent years. I’m now a single mom empty nester with a day job I love. But, just when I think one area has started to fall into place, something there shifts, causing me to re-evaluate. At the same time, a major stressor I’ve been dealing with may finally be reaching a resolution. Fingers crossed.

I’ve reached a point where I need to re-vision my future. The opportunities ahead are boundless. The paths and roads and trails I can choose from are wide open—for the most part. It’s a matter of me accepting the idea of change. Of thinking positively about this re-vision process, rather than being skittish. Or, let me just say it…afraid.

 I simply need to remember that while during the revision process we find things that need to be changed or tweaked, we also find gems within our writing—and within ourselves. We rediscover those scenes or moments where we step back and appreciate our own work.  Touch base with the good inside ourselves.

Mixed in with the faults—if we even need to call them that— we discover the highlights. And in the end, we’re left with something we’re proud of allowing us to enjoy the fruits of our labor.

So what are you “laboring” over this week?  A manuscript? A new change in your life? I’d love to hear what you’re re:visioning for yourself right now.

 And whatever it is, I say: more power to you!!

The Red Bikini

Dancing with Dragons Book Launch!

Lorenda’s having a Book Launch today!

Hi everyone, thanks for joining me and Lorenda as we celebrate the release of her second book, Dancing with Dragons!  

 

Great cover, huh?  (Love how her dress compliments the Dragon’s scales!)

Here’s the intriguing blurb:

If Carol Jenski knows anything, it’s fashion—and it’s not in fashion to consort with dragons, even though they’ve coexisted with humans since World War III. Still, she would never have agreed to take part in a plot against them. Now a dragon lord has called for her head, her boyfriend is MIA and she’s been abandoned in a foreign country. Only reporter Daniel Wallent is on Carol’s side…sort of. He offers his assistance if she helps him investigate his latest story. He’ll need Carol’s language skills to infiltrate an organization run by one of the most dangerous and secretive dragons in the world. Escaping one sociopathic dragon’s claws only to walk into another’s is an insane risk—and so is falling for Daniel.  Posing as his blushing—and very affectionate—new bride as cover soon leads to an all-too-real attraction. But fighting off dragons and her desire for Daniel may be more of a challenge than Carol can handle…

In this lighthearted and sexy romance, a young woman must choose between winning a competition—and the man who has won her heart. Here is the link to Lorenda’s web page for some buying options: Lorenda’s Books

 

Congrats on publishing book two in your Dragon series Lorenda! I’m sure I’m not alone in dying to know if you had imaginary dragon friends growing up, or was this more an adulthood induced affliction?

Alas, there were no dragon friends in my hometown. However, there was a tiny library that kept me stocked up on Tolkein’s, Mccaffery’s, and Robert Jordan’s, so I got my dose of fantasy nevertheless. When I sat down to write a book, I knew I wanted it to be paranormal, because I guess my muse took it literally when someone said “anything can happen” in front of her. And even though there are some authors out there (Thea Harrison, G.A.Aiken, Katie Macalister, etc) who are helping to scoot the vamps and weres over for dragon-based fantasy romance, I still feel like dragons are a minority in the paranormal romance world, and I guess I wanted to do my part to share the dragon-love!

One of the things I found interesting about this futuristic world you’ve created is the LACK of technology. The stories are set after WWIII and Dragon Lords rule the world. It’s dangerous to fly because there are too many distracted Dragons filling the airspace. (Distracted Dragons should be the name of a rock band if it isn’t already ;0). And since the war, the remaining EMP interference from space zaps electronics. So tell the truth now, did you do this to make your world-building easier or is it actually harder because we’ve become so dependent on all things electronic?

Uh…both? Lol. Actually, the lack of technology has overall made it easier for me to develop basic plot points that can’t be solved by a quick cell phone conversation. We live in a world that the strongest isn’t necessarily the one who survives, and for the danger of dragons to be real, I needed a bit of that “might makes right” feeling in my stories. The humans needed to feel a bit more helpless. So, take away their technology, and viola!, you’ve got yourself a playground for some great stories.

But, there are many, many times when I just need to get some information to the reader. Information that a quick cell conversation could resolve, and I hate myself a bit for killing a lot of the tech. Because now, I have to work a bit harder to slip in data the reader needs to know without turning the book into a lecture.

You just gotta love the fashionista heroine Carol. The poor gal just wanted to get in some power shopping. Instead, she’s assaulted by a very cranky dragon and lands up in the hospital. When she finally wakes from a coma her whole world has turned upside down. Forced to wear incredibly tacky clothes, and to don mud-brown dyed choppy hair that shows off the new zipper-like scar on her head, she finds herself on the run from scary Dragon Lords. Who was more fun to write? Quirky Carol or the equally quirky dragons?

Heh – I have a soft spot for Carol, because I think we’ve all had those moments where you would kill for the chance to look decent, but instead, you run into that old friend from high school when you’re in your baggy sweats post-workout instead of the form-fitting black sheath dress that shows off all your curves.

And I’ll admit, I wanted a heroine that actually LIKED being girly. So often in paranormal romance or urban fantasy, your protagonist is an ex-military, leather-wearing, black belt karate god who has dedicated her life to eradicating evil or protecting the innocent “others.” And sometimes I feel like these books make you feel that being girly is somehow equal to being weak. I’m fighting the stereotype.

So, now that we’ve talked about Carol, we must talk about the hero, Daniel. He’s a hunky newspaper reporter who stops at nothing to get his scoop. (I love that newspapers are back in style in this book, due to the aforementioned lack of electronics, btw)  Is Daniel based on someone you know in real life, or did he just pop up in your dreams alongside all those brightly colored dragons? 

He’s straight from my head. Okay, it’s possible that he was inspired by the Robert Redford character in Up Close and Personal. I mean, what’s more sexy than a guy who puts himself in danger all the time, not because he’s a He-Man type that needs to somehow prove himself, but because he has a very solid sense of justice? I’ll freely admit, smart guys turn me on. And smart guys who just so happen to be slightly dangerous and hunky at the same time? Sign me up.

I think it’s the most fun as an author when we can make ourselves laugh or cry. Do you have any favorite scenes, dragons, characters or lines you’d like to share?

My favorite parts to write are always the “first meets” of the hero and heroine. I’m not sure why, except that I enjoy the snarkiness that rolls off of two people when they’re surprised and unsettled by one another. I think it’s because that’s the moment when me—as the author—starts to see the potential of what these characters will look like as a couple. That being said, I also like it when they manage to cause irritation to the other, like the below….

Daniel fished in his pocket for a set of keys, and pointed.

“This is me.” He stopped in front of a sleek black motorcycle, kitted out with chrome bars, chrome exhaust, and a gleaming black helmet hanging from one side of the handlebars.

I stood and stared, trying to determine whether I could be lucky enough have hit my head so hard that I’d just hallucinated the entire thing—hospital, dragons, motorcycles and all. This could not be happening. I was still trying to formulate a question that didn’t start with “what the hell” when he made an impatient sound in his throat. He swung a leg over to straddle the machine before sliding a pair of sunglasses onto his head and reaching out a hand to help me on.

“What’s the problem?” he asked when I made no move to join him.

“Are you crazy? I’m not riding on that.”

I could see my bruised and battered face reflected in the lenses of his sunglasses as he considered me. Daniel pushed the bag of drugs he’d been carrying against my chest, turned the key in the ignition, and started the bike with a kick. “Suit yourself. Tell Lady Adelaida—and Lord Relobu—I said hello.” He tipped his head toward the door we’d just exited. The dragon lord’s men had slipped outside and were scanning the parking lot. The dragon must have been forced to take another route as the door was standard human size.

Daniel knew what he was doing when he took the garage exit.

One of the men caught sight of me and tapped the other on the arm. They yelled, and started to run in our direction.

“Okay, okay. I’m coming.” I crawled onto the bike awkwardly, trying to figure out how to keep the edge of my hospital gown firmly underneath my rear instead of free to fly up over my head once we were moving. As soon as I was settled, Daniel revved the motor. I grabbed him firmly around the waist, my white paper sack of medication dangling over his stomach.

The world went dark for a moment and I felt Daniel’s abs ripple as he twisted to awkwardly shove my head into his bike helmet. I winced as the pressure pulled on the stitches in my scalp, but I didn’t plan on complaining. If we wrecked, my already broken skull needed all the help it could get.

 With the helmet properly in place and just a little too big, I could see again, provided I didn’t make any sudden movements. I looked behind us to check on the progress of Adelaida’s men. They were only a few feet away, and one of them reached out to grab me when the motorcycle jumped forward in an awesome burst of speed. I involuntarily tightened my already snug hold on Daniel.

“I can’t drive if I can’t breathe,” he yelled.

I reluctantly loosened my grip on his midsection as we left the parking lot and merged with the busy lunch-hour traffic. Adelaida’s men watched as we drove away, cell phones glued to their furious faces as they reported our escape.

Without taking his eyes from the road, Daniel reached around me with his left arm and patted the leather saddle bags strapped to the back of the bike. “You can put your meds in here.”

“I’m fine.” There was no way I was unlinking my hands and turning around while we were moving.

I gasped when I felt a yank and then a tear as Daniel took the bag from me and stuffed it angrily into the leather satchel. “These damn bottles are playing Chopsticks on my nuts. Put them in the saddle bag. You are the most contrary person I have ever met in my life.”

Thoroughly disgusted with Daniel and my current situation in general, I gave in to my childish side and pinched the skin over his ribs. “You aren’t exactly a ray of sunshine yourself, buddy.”

That was great! Your acknowledgment page thanks many people, your firebird sisters included, (Yay) but I loved that you thanked your sister-in-law for keeping your kids alive while you finished the last half of your book. How hard is it to be a wife, mom, someone’s full-time employee and a writer of fabulous dragon books, too? 

Sigh. It is very hard. Take away any two of those, and it is STILL very hard. Luckily, we women are very, very good at multitasking. And I’m lucky to have lots of people in my life that are willing and able to step in when I need a little help to make it through the day. Someday, I hope to whittle down that to-do list, but until then, I’ll do my best to stay sane!

Good plan! So, what’s next? When does the next dragon book come out? Or will you be taking on an entirely different set of creatures next?  

Well, I’m hard at work on Book #3 of this series. It’s the last one I have contracted, and I’m feeling to the itch to move on to something else, but that could be first-draft fever talking.  The third book, ‘Til Dragons Do Us Part, is proving extremely fun to write. And trust me, I don’t say that about all my books. DWD was the hardest, most painful thing I’ve ever done…and the day it was DONE was a day I’ll never forget. But, there’s a certain pride in soldiering through a really tough time, and I’m proud of what DWD has become.

‘Til Dragons Do Us Part gets back to my “comfort zone” of humor and action. It follows a dragon-morph art thief and the security director who has to catch her. I’ll let you know more about it when it’s done.  Right now, the pub date is TBA.

Congrats and thanks so much for sharing your big day with us today. Our firebird feathers are puffed with pride for you!  (Honestly, this book was fantastic. You all will enjoy it…guaranteed!!)

Okay Firebirds and friends, here’s your chance to win your very own dragon gift basket. Because DRACIM #1 – Never Deal with Dragons, released in print the same month Dancing with Dragons is out in digital, Lorenda is celebrating with a huge giveaway of a Kindle Fire, dragon books galore, and a dragon-themed t-shirt. There are many different ways to enter. Check out the Rafflecopter drawing below.

http://www.rafflecopter.com/rafl/share-code/ZDMzZmM4NWY4MjMwZTAwNmNlMDI1MmQ5MDc5NDZhOjU=/

 

Here is the link to some buying options: Lorenda’s Books                                                                 

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Firebird Serials – The Ballroom Beauty, Part 4

This entry is part 4 of 4 in the series The Ballroom Beauty

Welcome to Firebird Serials! Where we give you a short bite of fiction – something to enjoy during your lunch hour – but with a twist: We want you to give us the idea for the next installment! Come join in the fun with the finalsegment of our latest historical romance, The Ballroom Beauty.

The Ballroom Beauty Part 4

By Lorenda Christensen

(We had a three-way tie for the winning option from Part 3, so Olivia’s going to be busy!
Olivia steps into the path to greet the interloper AND Braxton orders Olivia to hide. AND
Braxton kisses Olivia.)

The high-pitched voice of their host cut through the garden like a whip. Olivia froze in place. She could tell by the sudden stillness of her companion that he too recognized the voice of Lady Glasbury, one of the most infamous gossips in the ton.

If she were found here, in the company of Lord Braxton, she was ruined. Olivia glanced at her unpredictable Lord. Lord Braxton’s head was tipped up as he attempted to peer over the shrubbery hiding them from view. The position allowed Olivia a moment to notice and appreciate just how well Lord Braxton wore his evening attire.

Was being ruined such an awful thing? Especially if the ruining was done by someone as handsome and magnetic as Lord Braxton? Despite his lack of fortune, Olivia couldn’t deny that she was drawn to this man like no other.

Olivia wet her lips with the tip of her tongue as she pondered how one would steal a kiss from a man whose attention lay elsewhere? Dare she touch him with the intention of reminding him of their earlier passion given the threat of discovery hanging about them both? Was he as affected by their proximity to one another as she?

“Olivia, I beg of you. Stop looking at me in that manner. You’ll drive a man mad with those eyes.”

She drew back, unsure of whether she should be offended by his comment or pleased. “I only wanted to steal a kiss.”

His head whipped round, and his gaze landed unerringly upon her still-moistened lips. His eyes darkened with intent just before he leaned down and captured her mouth with his. Surprised, Olivia tried to gasp, but her every sense was filled with Lord Braxton.

Oh, it had never felt like this when John had kissed her! Back at her country home, she’d managed to sneak away with her childhood friend a time or two, and while their lips had met in shared warmth and contentment, never had John’s caused her to feel as if the earth were bucking beneath her person.

Without conscious thought, Olivia gripped Lord Braxton’s arm for support. But just as suddenly as his kiss had stolen her balance, Lord Braxton pulled back with a muttered oath.

Dazed, Olivia let loose a small mewl in protest as he retreated to the far end of the bench.

“I’ve waited a full year for this, and I’ll not ruin it now. Olivia, please, find a spot out of sight while I dispatch Lady Glasbury. I’ll come back and fetch you after.”

Olivia lifted a gloved hand to her mouth, the heat of his kiss still burning on her lips. Had he been bored by their kiss? Had she done something wrong? “I don’t understand. Have I offended you?”

Lord Braxton leaned toward her and gripped at her arms. “I’ve worked a full year to save up enough coin to court you properly, without your father thinking I was after your fortune. I’ll not cause him—or you—to think ill of me by forcing you to wed a man you didn’t choose. I’ll have your hand in marriage, but it won’t be by circumstance that you’ll walk down the aisle. When you make me your husband, it will be because you are as enamored of me as I have been of you.”

“But…how…” Olivia’s thoughts whirled around her head like the dancers waltzing in the ballroom. His face had been familiar to her, but she’d not even been introduced to him before tonight. How was it that he fancied himself in love with her?

And then she remembered the masquerade she’d attended last season at the home of the very same Lady Glasbury who was now seeking her out in the garden. She’d had a grand time at the party, reveling in the freedom to be whomever she’d pleased to be behind her black domino mask. She’d laughed, she’d flirted, and after a few glasses of champagne, she’d spent hours talking to a man with dark hair and dark eyes. Up until tonight, she’d always assumed it was her cousin’s husband.

She’d spent weeks after the party smothered in guilt for being jealous of her cousin’s good luck, as the masked man had charmed her completely. But now, as her gaze drifted over the broad shoulders of her very own Sir Dangerous, she realized her mistake. It had been Braxton all along!

“Olivia! Your mama has sent me to fetch you. I surely hope you are out here alone, and not on the arm of a certain handsome and dangerous rake.” The Lady’s gleeful tone made Olivia doubt the honesty of her statement. Olivia was positive Lady Glasbury would be the last person Mama would send after her daughter in a shadowed garden, as there was half a chance the Lady would create a story whether there was one to be seen or not.

Olivia made a decision. She stood, and grasped Lord Braxton’s hand in her own, tugging him up from the bench. She’d spent her entire life looking for something that made her feel this alive, and she’d not let the opportunity pass her by. “Come, Lord Braxton. I think it’s time we gave Lady Glasbury something to gossip about. And I can think of nothing better than the announcement of a spring wedding!”

Firebirds Serials! The Ballroom Beauty-Part 3

This entry is part 3 of 3 in the series The Ballroom Beauty

Welcome to Firebird Serials! Where we give you a short bite of fiction – something to enjoy during your lunch hour – but with a twist: We want you to give us the idea for the next installment! Come join in the fun with the second segment of our latest historical romance, The Ballroom Beauty.

The Ballroom Beauty Part 3       

By Jamie Wesley

(“Olivia jumps up, accidentally bumping heads with Braxton” was the winning option from Part 2)

If it were possible, Braxton’s impossibly dark eyes turned a deeper, more mesmerizing shade of black. A startling, but delightful, warmth spread through her veins.

He lowered his head, his intention clear. Panic seized her throat. No matter how much she longed to, she simply could not remain in the garden with Braxton and let him kiss her. Ruin her.

Olivia leaped from the bench. Or would have if she had not bumped heads with Braxton.

“Oww!” She jerked back and landed most ungracefully on the bench.

Braxton was not so fortunate. Olivia watched, her hands covering her mouth in horror, as he recoiled, his arms spinning like windmills, and tumbled backward over the bench into a shrub and its waiting branches. 

She gasped and jumped up. “Oh, dear, I’m so sorry.”

The bush and darkness of night hid his face, but could not disguise the most ungentlemanly words tumbling from his lips in a harsh torrent. His position afforded her an up-close view of his shoes and had anyone asked, she could have personally attested to the quality leather used to make them.

Olivia could not help herself. She giggled. This was not how she had envisioned the night going.

“Could you help me up please?” The expletives had stopped, but the disgruntled tone remained.

“Oh, oh. Yes. Most certainly.” She reached for his hand. The calluses on his palm surprised her. But perhaps they should not have given that he was in debt. He had to do something to afford the necessities of life.

“Ooph.” She tugged, but Braxton truly was a large man, and while no simpering miss herself, helping him up was no small feat. The position of the bench did not help matters, but eventually, after a few more tugs and grunts on both their parts, he stood again and brushed some stray leaves off his shoulders. Olivia inspected him to make sure no permanent damage had been done. A small scratch on his right cheek gave him a rakish, far too intriguing air, but she had a feeling he would not take solace in that fact.  His cravat hung limply. His silver waist coat was torn at the right elbow. A red spot on his forehead, presumably where their heads had made contact, taunted her. He looked like he had engaged in some unsavory activity. He didn’t look pleased about it.

“I’m so sorry,” she whispered.

An eyebrow arched up, hinting at his aristocratic heritage in its sheer arrogance. “Words often mean very little. What do you propose to make it up to me?”

“Make it up to you?” she stuttered. What did he mean? Surely he wouldn’t try to use this mishap to coerce her into marriage so he could pay off his debts?

“Yes. After all, you are the reason I cannot go inside now. I would be the talk of the ton, more than I already am.”

Oh, no. This was a disaster. Olivia’s eyes dropped to her waist where her hands were twisting together. “I could send money to have your waist coat mended.”

“Money is nice, I cannot deny, but what I want requires no coin.”

“What does it require?” she asked, nerves again causing her to stumble over her words.

“It only requires your lips on mine.” Sir Dangerous, indeed. The honey in his voice would attract the most reluctant of flies.

Olivia’s head shot up. Braxton’s eyes, so dark and intense, once again mesmerized her. She wasn’t sure who moved, but suddenly they were standing close. Very close. Olivia held her breath as he caressed her right cheek and peered into her eyes, deep into her soul. Everything  – the soft sounds of the waltz playing in the distance, the wind, her reasons for being at the ball, everything  – faded away until there was only the two of them.

His hand made another gentle pass down her cheek. “What am I going to do with you? Disaster seems to follow in your wake. I have to wonder if you are a witch.”

“I do not believe so, but it is possible, I suppose,” she whispered.

Braxton laughed, his rich baritone curling around her like an embrace. “You have certainly bewitched me. Do you feel what I feel?” he asked. “The rightness of being here together.”

She did, but she shouldn’t. Couldn’t. What about John? Could she really turn her back on the future she had so meticulously planned out? Did she dare believe that Braxton was sincere in his pursuit of her and not just interested in her dowry? Or that her feelings for him, so new and untried, were true?

“Olivia? Are you out here?”

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Firebird Serials! The Ballroom Beauty–Part 2

This entry is part 2 of 2 in the series The Ballroom Beauty

Welcome to Firebird Serials! Where we give you a short bite of fiction – something to enjoy during your lunch hour – but with a twist: We want you to give us the idea for the next installment! Come join in the fun with the second segment of our latest historical romance, The Ballroom Beauty.

The Ballroom Beauty

Part 2       

By Sheri Humphreys

(“Olivia takes his hand” was the winning option from Part 1)

He wanted to get to know her better? What a rogue! He knew they hadn’t been introduced, but whatever his intentions, Olivia didn’t care. All the better if he ignored propriety, since she aimed to ruin her reputation and render herself unmarriageable.

Alone in the garden with this man should work fine. No telling what liberties Sir Dangerous might attempt. He could be presenting the perfect opportunity. She only needed to convince her parents her reputation had succumbed to her naiveté, which shouldn’t be too difficult, since Mama leaned toward good-natured foolishness and Papa tended to ignore Olivia.

She accepted her dangerous gentleman’s hand. He straightened, pulled her close and wrapped her hand around his bent arm. Even through her glove and his coat, she felt his warmth. It wound up her arm, circled her throat, and left her wishing for the fan she’d left on the chair. Up close, those dark eyes seemed very bright.

Her mother’s head jerked, moving her gaze from the melee on the ballroom floor to Olivia. Mama’s eyes went wide. “My dear—”

“Just for a quick breath of air, Mama,” Olivia said as she tugged her dark man through the door and onto the portico. She didn’t let up until they’d maneuvered down the steps and onto the garden path.

“In a hurry, are you?” he asked, an amused inflection in his deep voice.

He obligingly let her steer them along the darkest path. A full moon, a temperate night, a path that stayed close to the mansion and offered convenient benches—they were destined to be discovered by other strollers.

“Mama may be silly, but she’s not stupid. Strangers are not acceptable partners—not for a dance or a stroll.” The bright moonlight would have clearly revealed his handsome face if not for the shadows from the abundant trees. Still, she caught glimpses of that strong jaw and a cynical, lopsided smile.

“Yet here we are.” He stopped and waved toward a bench.

Olivia situated herself near the center of the bench and forced herself to keep still when he sat too close. “You sound surprised.” Why had he suggested the inappropriate walk if he hadn’t expected her to accept?

“I intended to introduce myself. I’ve been known to ignore my manners, but not usually to the extent of kidnapping young ladies.” A flash of white teeth broke the gloom. “No telling what I’ll have to do to earn your mama’s favor, now.”

She wanted to tell him he should have made a little effort and found someone to introduce him, but she didn’t. After managing to get them outside alone, she didn’t want to ruin it all by angering him. She needed his arms around her and his wide, beautiful mouth kissing her. She swallowed the saliva that suddenly pooled in her mouth.

She’d been warned often enough not to be alone with a man, lest he take advantage. Surely it would be a simple matter to get one to kiss her? The only part out of her control was the witness. How did she manage to time the kiss for the exact moment another couple walked by? Perhaps, if she could get several kisses, one after another. That would help. Her stomach flipped and lurched. Kissing like that didn’t seem like something unmarried couples did. Would she even be able to breathe? Just thinking about it made her lose her breath.

“Miss Windredge?”

His voice snatched her misplaced attention. Oh, dear. Dark, narrowed eyes studied her with an uncomfortable intensity.  Had her expression revealed something untoward?

She forced her lips into a moue. “Regardless of your intention, I still have no idea who you are.”

“A thousand apologies. Braxton, at your service.” The sweep of his head, as he bowed and lifted it, was pure elegance.

Braxton! He was one of the ineligible lords Aunt Pru had warned Olivia and her parents about. Not only was the man infamous for disreputable conduct, he was known to be deep in debt. Exactly the kind of man who’d try to compromise an heiress and force her into marriage!

She’d jokingly named him Sir Dangerous, but he really could wreck all her plans. Only when men regarded her as unsuitable—in spite of her huge dowry and inheritance—would Father allow her to marry John Meadows, the squire’s son and her best friend. She’d far rather make a family with John than be tolerated solely for her money.

Except a fortune hunter like Lord Braxton wouldn’t care how scandalous her behavior was. He’d propose! Worst of all, he was a viscount! Papa might agree to an aristocrat’s proposal, even knowing the man pursued her purse.

She forced air in and out of her lungs, hoping her shock didn’t show. No kisses. No embrace. A squeaky little laugh escaped her as she scooted away from him. Oh, she’d already done so many inappropriate things—gone walking alone and in the dark, sat so close she could smell his delicious, spicy scent. She closed her eyes. She’d flirted with him!

A warm, minty waft of air caressed her face. Too late, she opened her eyes and found him—right—there.

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Firebird Serials – Historical Romance

Welcome to Firebird Serials! Where we give you a short bite of fiction every week – something to enjoy during your lunch hour – but with a twist: We want you to give us the idea for the next installment! Come join in the fun with the last segment of our latest historical romance, The Ballroom Beauty. 

And to make things even more special, our first installment is also a guest post. Double the fun! Please join me in welcoming Lauren Smith, author of WICKED DESIGNS, the first book in the League of Rogues series (Samhain Publishing). How gorgeous is this cover?

Let’s get started, shall we? I present to you Part 1 of The Ballroom Beauty!

 

 

Part 1

Miss Olivia Windredge tried in vain to peer over the sea of obnoxious ostrich feathers. How the devil was she to get a good look at the eligible men on the dance floor if she could not part the ocean of match-making mamas that blocked her path? She retrieved her fan from the empty seat beside her and prodded at a rather bulbous bottom of the woman directly in front of her.

“Excuse me, Madame—” She jabbed the woman’s bottom again, this time more viciously, wielding the dainty fan like a pirate would a short sword.

“Ow!” The older woman gave a violent shriek and leapt straight into the passing crowd of dancers.

A moment later, chaos erupted in the peaceful atmosphere of the ballroom. A wave of well-dressed men collided and toppled to the floor, rolling past Olivia from where she hid behind the matrons who were screeching like hens that discovered a fox amongst their nests. It was times like these when Olivia far preferred the country to town. The ton was vastly overrated.

“Oh dear.” Olivia covered her mouth with her hands as she watched a new wave of handsome young bucks dance straight into the melee of their fallen comrades, only to topple and join the pile of squirming men who were now punching and shouting like a litter of exuberant puppies.

“Good lord, are you determined to destroy half the ton’s eligible bachelors?” A rich baritone voice from behind Olivia made her jump and whirl around.  A man, tall and well-dressed in black knee breeches and a silver waist coat and black jacket was watching her. A ruby pin held his elaborate cravat in place at the base of his throat indicated he was well-inlaid.

The man leaned against a pillar near the entrance to the gardens. Her gaze traveled from his evening pumps up the immense height of his body to his face. The man’s hair was dark, almost black and his eyes…well they were definitely black, consuming her in their returning gaze. Sharp lines edged his features and the honed focus of his eyes gave her the distinct impression she was prey.

A little shudder wracked her body. What an unsettling thought! She was a debutante. Men were supposed to be prey, not the other way around.

“Why don’t you join me for a walk in the gardens? You can escape the crush of the crowds and we can get better acquainted.” The stranger suggested this scandalous notion in a soft, almost seductive tone.

“But—” she glanced over her shoulder at the madness of the ballroom behind her.

“Unless you prefer to face the wrath of the dowagers who are marching this way…” The man nodded at a group of angry look, turban wearing women who had hoisted their skirts and were prowling in her direction.

The man chuckled and the sound slid over her skin like velvet as he held out his hand to her.

So tell us, readers! What happens next?

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About our Author:

Born and raised in Tulsa, I spent the first twenty-two years of my life in Oklahoma, bridging the worlds between urban girl and cowgirl. After high school I attended Oklahoma State University where I earned Bachelor of Art degrees in history and political science. Drawn to paintings in museums and obsessed with antiques, I satisfied my fascination with history by writing and exploring exotic, ancient lands.
 
Over the years, my studies have opened doors throughout the world. From spending two summers at Cambridge to attending classes at such divergent places as Ireland and Chengdu, China, I have discovered fascinating opportunities for enrichment wherever I go. After completing college, I moved to Michigan to attend law school at the University of Detroit-Mercy and University of Windsor in Ontario, Canada.  Armed with two Juris Doctorate degrees from both countries, I returned to Tulsa and became an intellectual property attorney. 

Since third grade when my English teacher proposed that all students should craft a story for a young writers’ conference, I have been hooked on writing. My first self-illustrated manuscript described the mysterious disappearance of rare brown bats that were being captured by scientists bent on using them as carriers for an incurable disease. The immense sense of joy in sharing that story with others, and discussing plots and characters, made it clear to me that writing was my true passion.

 

Getting Our Pirate On with Maureen O. Betita (CONTEST!)

EDITED TO ADD – Tamra Baumann and Jean Willett, you’re the lucky winners! I’ll be in touch.

Terri Osburn here and I’ve brought my friend Maureen O. Betita to visit with us today. The author of The Kraken’s Caribbean series, Maureen is a lover of pirate adventure. She throws a little bit of everything into her books. You get time travel and sexual witches, matchmaking albino krakens and a villainess ice queen with a crystal lair. But always in the mix are her pirates. And what would pirates be without the sea?

Mother Ocean

Water, the sea…the many which are one. For there are truly no borders with oceans. They flow into each other, they merge and linger with each other. I love writing about life upon the ocean. There is a freedom found upon the sea.

As children, if we’re lucky, we find our imaginations set free when we swim. Didn’t all of us pretend we were mermaids? Play Marco/Polo in the pool? Lay at the bottom and gaze up into the sky? Or ride atop waves on inflatable rafts, screaming in excitement as the white foam surrounded us. In the water, we are weightless (or nearly so)…and it’s as if memories of when we floated in the womb reawaken.

Is it any wonder we love the water? In my pirate books, my sailors are at home upon the water. Captain Jake considers the sea his home, and for Miranda? It is a literal second home since the gift of Manhe enables her to swim as a giant ray.

For those of us who live near the sea, it is the place we go when troubled, to gaze at that relentless surge. We study the paths the sun and moon cast and dream of walking that road…

The scent of the ocean, the crashing of waves, the dazzle of light upon the surface…the ocean inspires so much. For me, it inspires writing about the men and women who sail those currents.

Terri Osburn invited me to blog with you Firebirds today. I know Terri lives close to the ocean, and though her ocean is far from mine, all are the same.

I’m Maureen O. Betita and I write pirate adventure novels. My series, Forever A Pirate, consists of 30 books (6 released so far) and 1 romantic couple. I believe in HEA, but it’s a continual labor of love. If you’r

e of a mind to take a break and sail with pirates, I invite you to board the Moonstone. Begin with book 1 A Caribbean Spell, then follow the adventure through the others.

In this book you’ll meet Miranda, time traveling sexual witch, running from a sorrow few could imagine. She’s impetuous, friendly and a bit of a meddler. She needs the touch of a lover’s hand to power her magical abilities. She travels, she never stays.

Until Jake. He’s a pirate captain, daring, clever and born a thief. He knows his way around women, but for him it’s never more than a dalliance. Until he hauls the interesting witch from the water and soon, he’s contemplating more than just play. This one, he may keep.

But first, they need to save the world.

Terri here again and I’m giving away digital version of A CARIBBEAN SPELL to two lucky commenters today. So  tell us, what’s your favorite thing about playing in the water? Pool, lake, pond, or ocean? Where do you get your splash on? And learn more about Maureen and her books by checking out her website here. 

Good Luck – 2014 Golden Heart & RITA Finalists

Good Luck – Golden Heart & RITA Finalists

It’s RWA’s Golden Heart and RITA season.  All the entry and book scores have been turned in and I can say I read some great material. Now the waiting begins. In a few more weeks calls go out and the excitement explodes. There’s a lot of anticipation beginning to vibrate on writing loops and Facebook.  I think it’s a great time to offer a list of ten things to remember:

1] You’re a writer. You must write the next three weeks. You must keep writing as you have projects and stuff to do.

2] You’re a writer. Don’t forget to have pen and paper by the phone. Yes, you will have to write something down. No, you won’t remember what it is later.

3] Once you answer the call, remember what you were doing. Try to remember what you’re saying. You’ll have to share your spontaneous combustion. RITA Finalists will pull out their email lists and let their friends, family and publishers know the good news.

4] Golden Heart Finalists will have a private email loop to share all the excitement. They name themselves and create a pin as their symbol. We are the 2012 Firebirds! 

5] You may not make the finals. You’re a writer. Keep writing. You can sell during the same period before conference. Don’t let any dejection or bad thoughts keep you from your passion—telling a good story.

6] Share your news. Keep your creative bubble intact. Get back to work because the opportunity to submit as a current GH Finalist is short. RITA Finalists share the news with local papers and prepare publicity packs.

7] Enjoy the excitement. Prepare for the National conference if you can attend. Ask questions on any matter because there are other finalists willing to answer your questions.

8] Yes, if you attend conference you will need a stack of business cards, a conference schedule,  a dress for the awards and a camera/cellphone camera for lots of candid moments.

9] Take a deep, cleansing breath. Chase those jitters from your system and sit down at your computer. Write. You’re a writer. This is a small blip on the radar of your career. You have a project to submit.

10] Enjoy the time. Be recharged, and then go write another great story.

Feel free to add your thoughts and tidbits of advice for the new group in the comment section.  Good luck to all of you.