HelenKay Dimon's Blog, page 24

Snippet Saturday

Today’s topic is “Talk, Talk” – in other words, dialogue. Dialogue happens to be my favorite part to write. Seems like a perfect time to give you another little peek at LEAN ON ME. Cassidy left Holloway to climb mountains (literally) and while gone made a bad decision that insulted most of the folks in her hometown. Many still hold a grudge, except for Mitch, the guy who had a crush on her in high school and is pretty happy to see her come back:

They walked in silence to the informal gravesite. Mitch opened the gate and followed her into the small space. She wiped her hands on her jeans then folded her arms. A second later she unfolded them again. She couldn’t stop moving or catch her breath. Every part of her trembled as if on the verge of blowing apart.

Mitch crouched down. With a gentle hand, he skimmed his fingers over the raised writing on the grave marker. The move was so caring, so reverent, that her world centered again.

“I don’t think I realized she was buried here,” he said in a whisper, the type usually reserved for church or a solemn occasion.

“We had to get an exception to allow it.”

“We?”



She squatted next to him, balancing on the balls of her feet. “I stood at the back of the church.”

He finally looked at her. “Excuse me?”

“I was there, at the funeral and burial. I didn’t want her last day to be about me, because both my mom and Allan deserved better than that, but I came. Of course I did.” The nicknames and catchy phrases about her life were bad enough. The idea people would think she’d abandoned her family at the end was a hole that continuously burned in her gut. “Allan kept insisting it didn’t matter what anyone said, but deep down I think he knew it was the right decision and felt relief at not having to answer a lot of questions about me on such a horrible day.”

“I had no idea.”

Cassidy brushed a few leaves away from the marker. “Not how you expected The Chosen One to act?”

“I’ve never called you that.” The clench of his jaw mirrored the anger in his voice.

“She was my mother and I loved her. I’ve done a lot of stupid things in my life, some selfish, but the rumors about this are wrong.”

She felt his gaze on her cheek. The skin heated under his attention. She didn’t look at him because she doubted her ability to say anything coherent or maintain her control.

His fingers tickled her chin as he turned her head to him. “You are a constant surprise, Cassidy Clarke.”

“Is that a good thing?”

“It’s not a bad one.”

The tug, the pull. The intensity of the moment grabbed her hard. Shook her with enough force to rattle her bones. Whatever whirled around them blocked out everything but the bright fall sunshine streaming in through the mass of leaves above them.

She stood up, breaking the connection before her common sense became a casualty of her pulsing attraction to this man. A second later he was right there next to her. So close she could feel his breath on her cheek and smell a hint of his mint shampoo. His shoulders blocked her view of the yard and his intense gaze never left her face.

“So now what?” She whispered the question because talking in a normal voice seemed out of place.

“I fight back the urge to kiss you.”

His hands didn’t move. He didn’t even shift. Which was good because she doubted she would have been able to walk away if he touched her.

“That would be wise.”

Like that, the spell broke. The zap between them blinked out, taking the huge surge of energy with it. The bubbling promise left in its wake was not one ounce more comfortable or controllable.

He must have sensed it too because he fell back on his flirty tone. “And I go plan some smart conversation for our date tonight.”

“I don’t remember saying I would come.”

He wiggled his eyebrows. “Oh, you’ll come.”

She laughed before she could stop it. “Are still talking about dinner?”

“Not really.”

___________

Remember to check out the other authors’ snippets:

Rhian Cahill

Shelli Stevens

Anne Rainey

Jody Wallace

Mari Carr

McKenna Jeffries

Myla Jackson

Taige Crenshaw

Delilah Devlin

Lauren Dane

Shiloh Walker

TJ Michaels

Leah Braemel

I’m back!

I’m still here! I apologize for my lack of blogging. I’ve been plowed under with deadlines. The books – yes, mulitple – have been turned in and life has calmed finally down. [Sigh of relief] Remember that I do post on my Facebook page almost every day, so you can find me there. Here’s the link: FB page.

But I do have something yummy to share – the anthology cover for ROMANCING THE HOLIDAY, the anthology with Jaci Burton, Christi Barth and me! My novella, WE’LL BE HOME FOR CHRISTMAS, will be available as part of this anthology and as a individual novella. Here’s the antho cover (click on it for a nice, clear look):

Snippet Saturday

Today’s topic is an author’s choice. I decided it was a good time to introduce you to Declan Hanover, the middle son of con man Charlie Hanover and the hero of NO TURNING BACK, which comes out in March. He’s new to town and oveheard the heroine, Leah, and her friend talking about his family. This is meeting number 2:

Declan stood on the porch of the stone house, all three crumbling stories of it, and wondered what he’d ever done to piss off the universe. Four months ago he stepped out of the Army uniform that had defined him for ten years. Now he was unemployed and stuck with a one-third ownership interest in a property in Sweetwater, Oregon. The same property with a mortgage hovering on the brink of foreclosure.

Sucked to be him.



Not that the property was a total write-off. Someone generations ago had named it Shadow Hill, which fit a building framed by fireplaces at each end with a turret in the middle. He didn’t know the exact definition of a manor, but he guessed one would look a lot like this place with its acres of rolling hills and open spaces.

The field behind the main house could work as a pasture if someone cleared out the dead tree limbs and piles of forgotten dirt and old wood. Towering pines lined the long drive from the road to the house, surrounding it on two sides, and the pacific coast sat close enough for a hint of salt to float in the air.

Yeah, the place could be something. It would take piles of cash he didn’t have and months of intense work to make it happen. Daunting but not impossible. Certainly less dangerous than dodging roadside bombs outside Baghdad, and he’d survived four tours of that.

No matter what, making the house livable would probably be less trouble than the woman trying to sneak up on him. He’d heard the crunch of gravel under tires a minute ago, though she parked far down the drive. Even now he sensed her closing in. Smelled the same coconut scent he caught in her hair when he leaned in close to her at the diner.

“Do you live here now?” She asked the question without any warning. Just like that her voice cut through the sunny afternoon.

He turned around, following the now familiar husky female voice to the redhead standing a few feet behind him with her hands on her hips. She had huge gray eyes and wore a strangely sexy don’t-mess-with-me scowl. Add to that the slim dark jeans and a yellow shirt held on her tan shoulders only by thin straps and things were looking up. Well, except for the part where she made it clear she thought he was a scum-sucking criminal.

Never mind the trespassing, which she was, his biggest issue came from her attitude. She looked at his father’s history and put them in the same category. He’d spent his entire life outrunning his father’s shitty reputation. Having people judge him on his genes wasn’t new, but that didn’t mean it pissed Declan off any less.

“You’re the lady from the diner.”

“Yes,” That was it. No other information. Just a terse word and a glare.

Not exactly the best town welcoming committee. “Do you have a name, Ms. Woman Who Hates Me For No Reason?”

“Leah Baron. Daughter of Marc Baron.”

Okay, maybe she did have a reason. The Baron name figured prominently in Charlie Hanover history, and not in a good way. “Did you follow me home, Leah?”

She cocked her head to the side, letting her hair fall over her shoulder. The sunlight streamed through the wavy strands.

Not that he noticed. He was working damn hard not to notice the pretty round face or the long legs. Guessing what her body looked like under that tiny top was an off-limits topic as well.

“You left the diner over an hour ago,” she said as she crossed her arms over her stomach.

That sounded a bit stalkerish for his liking but he decided to hear her out instead of throw her out. For now. “Is that a no?”

“I figured you’d end up here eventually. I parked down the street and waited.”

Yeah, no doubt about it. He’d been in town for exactly one day and acquired a stalker.

___________

Remember to check out the other authors’ snippets:

Megan Hart:Read in bed!

Leah Braemel

Eliza Gayle

Mandy M Roth

Lissa Matthews

Mari Carr

McKenna Jeffries

Myla Jackson

Taige Crenshaw

Lauren Dane

Shelli Stevens

Delilah Devlin

Jody Wallace

Saturday Snippets

Today’s topic is lean on me. Since I have a book coming out in October with that very title, I thought I’d give you a snippet from my LEAN ON ME. Just two folks running into each other ten years after high school…

“We didn’t go out.” She blurted out the words because, really, the conversation couldn’t go worse if she weighed them first.

“I tried.”

“You…” Somewhere near her an overhead sprinkler went off. She heard the spray and felt the mist. It took all the control she had not to flatten her hair with her palms. Then his words fully registered. “Wait, what?”

“We were supposed to meet at Schmidt’s Diner for breakfast the day before classes ended your senior year. You never showed.”

A memory tickled at the back of her mind. When he squeezed her hand then dropped it, the facts came rushing back. “But that was a joke.”

He tucked those mesmerizing fingers into the front pockets of his faded jeans and rocked back on his heels. “Um, no.”



He’d been a year behind her and traveling in a pack of rowdy athletes who barely noticed her through the cloud of testosterone swirling around them. They sure didn’t talk to her throughout school. She wasn’t a brain and wasn’t a jock. Not that kind of jock. She’d always preferred the outdoors and quiet, solitary climbs to group sports.

“You were standing with your friends and laughing and told me it would break your heart if we didn’t share pancakes.” The long-forgotten memory came back spiraling back at her in vivid detail.

This time he shot her the irresistible, dimpled nod he’d just bragged about. “And you said you’d come.”

“I certainly didn’t.”

“True.” He nodded. “Technically you said ‘I’ll get right on that,’ but it’s the same thing.”

“In what universe?”

“Uh, this one?”

“Not really.”

He waved his hand as if dismissing her argument. “Good news is I’ve gotten over it.”

“Well, it has been ten years.” And she’d bet he forgot he’d asked her out the second after he did it.

He leaned against the table with one ankle crossed over the other, oblivious to the water spray putting a soft glisten in his hair. “Are you here for a visit?”

She wondered what it must feel like not to worry about frizzy hair, to be so unconditionally accepted and so comfortable in his surroundings. The constant attention made her insides jump around. Between the staring and eavesdropping, she was ten seconds away from climbing out of her skin.

“You mean the nursery?” She switched her weight from foot to foot as she asked the question.

“I meant Holloway. You know, the same town in West Virginia where you were born.” His eyes narrowed. “You okay?”

“I’m not exactly the town’s favorite daughter.”

“I believe the town refers to that incident as The Snub.”

“What?”

He shrugged. “People around here like to make up names for thing.”

Something inside her deflated. She actually felt her shoulders slump. “That’s just fabulous.”

“You called Holloway a pit. Wait.” He held up a finger and stared at the ceiling for a second as if in deep

thought. “I think the term was rotting pit.”

She winced liked she always did when someone reminded her of the interview. “You read the article.”

He chuckled. “Everyone read it.”

From the look of it, every resident of Holloway stood in the same room with her, more than ready to lecture her on her long ago behavior. “Apparently.”

“You could use a better PR team.”

Since she barely had money for a sandwich, his insight made her laugh. “Or a quicker brain.”

“Hungry?”

Maybe her brain was even slower than she thought. “I feel like I keep saying this, but what?”

“I assume superathletes eat.”

“What are we talking about now?” She lowered her voice to a whisper even though he kept talking as if they were the only ones standing in the room.

“That date. Way I figure it, you still owe me.”

Right. They’d eat and his girlfriend or wife would come in and make a scene. That would give everyone in town a new reason to hate her. No. Thank. You.

“You can’t possibly be this hard up for a meal companion,” she said.

“You make dating sound so sexy.”

She bit her lip to keep from laughing. “Let’s just say I’ve known some interesting guys.” Then the words registered. “Wait, did you say date?”

“Tomorrow at seven at Schmidt’s.”

That bit of news sent her mind racing down another track. “It’s still open? Old Man Schmidt was ninety when we were in school.”

“And still makes a mean pancake.” Mitch took out his phone. “What’s your number?”

She beat back a sigh. “I don’t have one.”

He shot her one of those you’re-so-full-of-it looks men did so well. “Everyone has a phone.”

“I don’t.” It wasn’t even a line. She actually couldn’t afford one right now. She owned a tent and a backpack and the sneakers on her feet. Hard to believe she once employed an agent and sat in on fancy dinners with prospective sponsors talking about documentary deals.

Mitch’s gaze brushed over her face like a caress. “Seriously?’

She had to swallow to force the word out. “Yes.”

“Fair enough.” He slipped the phone back into his pocket.

“You believe me?”

He shrugged. “Are you lying?”

“No.”

He shrugged. “Then what do you say to the date?”

She said the first thing that popped into her head. “I’ll get right on that.”

The smile that spread over his mouth was bright enough to light the room. “Nice comeback.”

“Thought that might impress you.”

“Oh, it did. Now, it’s my turn.” He stood up straight again. “I’m going to walk away thinking we’re on for tomorrow.”

Her good mood faded. “I didn’t—”

“When I do go—” he pointed in the direction of the glassed-in office at the far end of the room, “—you’re going

to be tempted to watch my ass.”

The comment was so out of context it hit her like a sharp smack. “Excuse me?”

“Just to be clear, I won’t be offended. As far as I’m concerned, you can go right ahead and look because I can

guarantee you if the positions were reversed, I’d be watching yours.”

With her mouth hanging open and her mind muddled, she watched him walk away. No, make that saunter. It was the sure stalk of a hunter, all grace with no wasted steps.

And damn if she didn’t take a peek at his ass.

___________

Remember to check out the other authors’ snippets:

Megan Hart:Read in bed!

Leah Braemel

Eliza Gayle

Mandy M Roth

Lissa Matthews

Mari Carr

McKenna Jeffries

Myla Jackson

Taige Crenshaw

Lauren Dane

TJ Michaels

Delilah Devlin

Jody Wallace

Links, Links, Links!

So, my laptop imploded…again. The most recent time was yesterday. As you might imagine, I had a fit. I have a book due and am behind and losing some of my work and more than a day of writing didn’t help matters. But now I have a new laptop and we’re getting along fine so far.

As I speed write, you can go to a few sites and read about my most recent release COPY THAT and possibly win a free copy. How is that for an incentive?? I’m at Romance Reader at Heart, Books-n-Kisses and Books Around The Corner. I’m talking about different aspects of the book at each, so visit them all!

A Good Tip

Publisher’s Weekly posted 5 Writing Tips Rrom Chelsea Cain. If you haven’t read her, give her books a try. She’s a thriller writer and really good. I also think her first tip was written directly for me because I say this all the time:

1. You won’t make a living writing until you learn to write when you don’t want to. A lot of writers wait for the muse to seize them. These writers don’t get much done. Here’s a secret: writing is not always fun. If it is, you’re doing it wrong. I love to write just about more than anything, but there are times I have to force myself to sit down and work. I want to play with my daughter, or watch a movie with my husband, or go outside on the nicest day of the year. But if writing is going to be your job, you have to treat it like a job. And that means that you don’t get to take the day off just because you’re “not feeling it.” This is what separates the writers who make it from the writers who don’t. Get your butt in your chair, and make yourself write. Do it every day.

Whenever people talk about their writing muse I am stumped. If I waited around to want to write or for it to be the right time to write or for the muse to knock on the door, I would have written exactly ZERO books. There is always something more fun to do or something else that has to be done. Always. I am the worst house cleaner on the planet and I would rather dust the entire house than write some days.

So, yeah. What she said.

At Genreality

I am blogging at Genreality today and have an excerpt of COPY THAT, my new release, up. Stop over and check it out.

And are you sick of release week yet? I know the nonstop book pimping gets old, but I do love this book and hope people will try it. *ahem* HINT *ahem*

Guest Blogging

I’m at the Delighted Reader today talking about COPY THAT and giving away a copy. Stop by and say hello!

Release Time!

It is release week! COPY THAT is now out and available at Amazon and Barnes & Noble, in print and digital, and at a bunch of other grocery stores, bookstores, Target and Walmart. Yay!!!!

I love release week. There is just nothing better than seeing my books in physical and online bookstores. Thank you to all who pre-ordered and all who intend to buy it this week. I’ll be talking about the book this week and posting some information and holding a contest or two here, on my Facebook page and on a few other blogs. Today I’m at Just Romantic Suspense. I hope you’ll visit!

Winner!

We have a contest winner for July. She is…rubyswan (comment #2 on the July 20th blog) – congrats!! Email me with the book of your choice and I’ll get it out to you.