Bronwyn Green's Random Thoughts and Musings

Helpful Kittehs Are Helpful

2012-02-13T05:11:00.000-08:00

So my bad blogger streak continues, but I'm hoping to break it. I'm having a bad case of the Februarys. Seriously - longest, freaking month EVER.

I tried to break up the monotony by doing some sewing yesterday. Okay, it was more about making a new black skirt to replace my favorite black paisley one that died a horrible death than breaking up the monotony. (Bonus - I like this fabric better.) I also cut out another black skirt and a multicolored batik number.

As you can see, I had some help. Willow pounced on the black paisley and refused to be moved. And Rowan opted for the batik and the measuring tape. It's honestly a wonder I get anything done. And they were super pissed when I locked them out out the sewing room. I did manage to get two of the three of the skirts sewn. Not bad for a couple hours work. Now I just need to get some words down.

Hot, or not so much?

2012-02-09T07:01:00.000-08:00

I'm over at Writers Evolution today, talking about what sort of clothes I find sexy on a man. Come check it out and let me know what you think is attractive. I'm curious to find out if I'm alone in my choices. :)

Texts from Cait - Part Ten

2012-02-04T18:01:00.000-08:00

I love pulling my phone out of my purse and finding stuff like this. Yepper - it's time for another round of texts from Cait. I'm so glad I won the sister lottery. :D

The Good Stuff

2012-02-02T19:11:00.000-08:00

In the comments of the last blog post, Tough Love Jen kindly pointed tout that it's not all bad around here. Good stuff has definitely happened.

For instance, my mama (who is super awesome) just celebrated a huge milestone - her thirtieth year at the university where she teaches! I was her date last night at the faculty convocation which included a lovely (and very fancy) meal. I'm not going to lie - it was a little intimidating being seated with that many people with doctorate degrees, research grants and awards. But everyone was very nice. And a couple of the guys were hilarious.

So let's see, other good stuff - I'm healing nicely from my fall, my kids have done and turned in all their homework, and the really exciting news - I've lost 15 pounds!

I'm making a lot of little changes this year that I'm hoping will add up to big things by the end.
So far, so good!

So what good things are happening in your life? Share! :)

Catching Up. (Again.)

2012-01-31T08:55:00.000-08:00

I know when I list off the stuff I've been doing it won't seem like I've been too busy to blog, but I'm gonna do the round-up anyway.

Much of last week was spent trying to get everything in order for Matt to leave for a three week long trip to Singapore. (Read: I was doing a metric crap-ton of laundry.)

I was also grounding Corwin for his usual offense of not doing his damn homework. Once a quarter, the kid goes rogue and either does it and doesn't turn it in or just doesn't do it. Needless to say, there was some "child management" going on.

Thursday morning, I brought Matt and one of his colleagues to the airport to head to Singapore.

Thursday afternoon, I lived up to my reputation of being the Klutziest Klutz Who Ever Klutzed. I got out of the car at the gas station and managed to slip and fall. Not on ice. No, that would actually be understandable. No, this chick slipped and fell on the damn sidewalk salt used to melt the ice. No ice in sight.

Yeah. I have no idea either.

However, what I do know is that I sprained my left ankle and right wrist, bruised the hell out of my knee, gouged the palm of my left hand and hit my head on the pavement. Because I'm just that clever/stupid/talented/adjective of your choice.

Since then, I've had a fair amount of insomnia - I don't sleep well when Matt's not home. It doesn't help that Angus thinks that 3:30 am is a perfectly reasonable time to play fetch with his sparkly pink puff ball. Of course, last night, there was no puff ball in sight. Just me lying awake from 3 am until I had to get up at 5:30. Shoulda just gotten up and worked.

Yesterday, I got a cortisone shot in the wrist in hopes of alleviating my chronic carpal tunnel numbness and pain. It was kinda freaking to feel the doctor wiggling the needle around in there. And my arm was really weak afterward, so I'm super grateful that Brynn drove me to and from. But I'm not sure the shot's doing any good. It might be because of the sprain. I'll probably try another one and see what happens.

See? Doesn't seem like this should have kept me away from blogging. But it did. Sigh.

Misread of the Day

2012-01-25T19:32:00.000-08:00

Today while driving, I passed a sign for an auto place that said FREE INSPECTIONS.

Only I read it wrong.

I thought it said FREE INFECTIONS.

And for about 30 seconds I tried to figure out how that could possibly be a desirable thing.

Yeah...it's been that kind of day.

What? No laugh track?

2012-01-21T07:52:00.000-08:00

So, I attempted to put the creamer back in the fridge.

It didn't go well.

I knocked the vat of salsa off the top shelf. Then when I was bending over to pick it up, the creamer bottle fell out, bounced off my head and hit the floor. The flip-top lid broke and creamer spewed everywhere. Brand new bottle, of course.

I sopped it up with a towel then bent over to clean up the mess with a washrag. I slipped a little on the wet floor and caught myself on the fridge door where I managed to simultaneously push the water and ice dispenser levers.

I managed to shoot freezing cold water in my left ear and catch chunks of ice behind the lens of my glasses.

You understand why I was moderately surprised by the lack of sitcom laugh track.

I Miss You, Sweet Boy

2012-01-16T19:16:00.001-08:00

Almost 19 years ago, Herne was born - conveniently on my friend Merry's birthday who'd taken in Herne's very pregnant mama. He was the runt of a litter of five - and by far the prettiest of the bunch, though I'm guessing Mer would disagree since she kept his brother Casey.

When he was a kitten we called him Circus Cat. He'd do amazing midair flips when we'd play with him with ribbons and other toys. He played fetch with puff balls and he'd go to the basement every night and drag three or four dirty socks from the laundry bin, all the way up two flights of stairs to lay them at the foot of our bed. He was so tiny that the socks were bigger than he was. He earned the nickname Herne the Hunter for that. We also called him Bunny Boy because he had fur as soft as any rabbit.

Herne has always been a mama's boy. He snuggles with me no matter where I am and especially likes to help me write by laying on my keyboard or my arms or my chest while I'm trying to work, contentedly purring the whole time.

Over the last couple years, he's been sleepier and weaker. He's gone deaf and blind. He navigates the house using the perimeter of the room and what we affectionately refer to as Kitty Sonar. It involves Herne yowling loudly as he wanders around. He'd always make himself known to whoever was on the phone with me, meowing loudly into the mouthpiece. It's an obnoxious sound, but it's one I'm going to miss.

Herne had a stroke today. One minute he was sleeping by me on the couch and the next he was spinning in horrifyingly endless circles, stopping only when the right side of his body would give way. Then, he'd claw to his feet and repeat motions looking more and more confused.

I held him and he snuggled into me and purred, but when he got restless, the same cycle would start again. They boys and I took turns keeping him calm until Matt got home and we took him to the vet.

We ended up having to put him down tonight. I miss him so much already.

Now this is a family I can get behind!

2012-01-15T07:42:00.000-08:00

I'm sure you've all seen those trendy stick people family bumper stickers. The school parking lots are full of them at my kids' schools. They're almost always on minivans and SUVs. As a side note, I swear the bulk of the SUVs and minivans in West Michigan are at these two schools. But I digress.

Anyway, I don't have a problem with these stickers (except when the first and last names of the children are on there - that seems like a terrible idea) but it gets a little old after a while. Plus, I'm always stuck behind them in line, and that just makes me crabby, anyway.

However, last week I saw a family sticker that delighted me to no end. I was at the grocery store and parked right next to me was this SUV...sporting the Star Wars Rebel Alliance symbols. I almost wanted to go back into the store, find them and high five them. But stalking, no matter how well intentioned, is never cool. Also it was real cold and starting to snow. But whoever these people are, I adore them.

Love the Obi Wan bumper sticker, too! These are my people. ;)

Riding in Cars with Boys - Part Seventeen

2012-01-11T14:26:00.000-08:00

Remember the Bromance conversation? Well, there's more.

After school, a new kid headed toward the car with Killian, Justin and Not-Kevin. He was pretty tall, carried a guitar slung over his shoulder and had the biggest afro I've ever seen outside of the 70s. It was kind of mesmerizing really. His mousy brown hair billowed in the wind, at least six inches above his pasty, scruffy face. They all piled into the car with the new kid in the middle of the backseat.

Me: Um...hi.

New Kid: Hi.

Justin: This broski here is Cory.

Me: Hey Cory. Nice to meet you.

Cory: (nodding, his massive hair bouncing back and forth) Likewise.

Killian: Yeah. Bromigo is gonna teach us how to read guitar tabs, so we can actually play.

Not-Kevin: And start a band.

Me: Sweet. Okay, where to then?

Justin: (nods toward Not-Kevin) Over at Brobama's.

Me: All righty.

I go to back out and look in my rearview mirror. All I can see is Cory's downy soft fro. Hitting the ceiling of my car.

Me: Soooooo, Cory, you're gonna need to duck your head so I can back out.

He scootches down in his seat. His hair is still blocking my entire line of vision.

Me: Uh...yeah. That's not really working for me. I hate to say it, but you're gonna have to hold it down. Sorry about that.

Cory: No problem. Happens all the time.

Not-Kevin (nodding sagely) And that's why we call him Fro-bro Baggins.

And I still couldn't back out because I was laughing too damn hard.

Winners!!! YAY!!!

2012-01-10T18:50:00.000-08:00

GRAND PRIZE WINNER

Tara R

2nd PRIZE

Gabrielle J

3rd PRIZE

Kerry

Congratulations!!

We'd like to thank everyone who entered. We were thrilled at the response and are so excited. The above winners will be contacted via email and will need to respond to Jessica (jessica@jessicajarman.com) within three (3) days to claim their prize, otherwise a new winner will be chosen.

Please note - there will also be some consolation prizes awarded from this blog. :)

Congratulations to all the winners!
Jessica, Devon, Bronwyn, Gwendolyn, Kris and Suzanne

Blergh

2012-01-07T19:01:00.000-08:00

*WARNING: Whiny post ahead. Proceed at your own risk.*

I can't focus for crap.

I flit from one thing to another like a particularly disinterested toddler.

It's a struggle to finish anything.

I'm exhausted and achy.

I think I have the January Blahs.

I've got stuff to do. Anybody have any suggestions for getting rid of this crap?

It's getting really old.

*End Whine*

Who Wants to Win a Brand New Kindle Fire?

2012-01-02T07:26:00.000-08:00

Welcome to 2012! And what better way to celebrate than with a brand new Kindle Fire!

Six sexy TEB authors are coming together with a fabulous giveaway to usher in the New Year! And entering couldn't be simpler.

Just visit each of our blogs beginning January 1st, and leave a comment on the contest post with:

* your name (or user name) and contact email, and
* your top two (2) choices from the author's backlist to kick-start your Kindle library should you win.

Contest will close at Noon ET on Tuesday, January 10, 2012, and a winner will be drawn from all the readers who commented on all six blogs:

Gwendolyn Cease
Suzanne Graham
Bronwyn Green
Jessica Jarman
Kris Norris
Devon Rhodes

The Grand Prize winner will receive a brand new Kindle Fire and two ebooks of their choice from each author!!

Second Prize will be winner's choice of two ebooks from each author's backlist...that's 12 new books!

Third Prize will be winner's choice of ebook from each author's backlist...that's 6 new books!

More surprises and prizes at each blog, so what are you waiting for? The clock is ticking, so Fire up the New Year and you could be the winner!!

We Have a Winner!!!

2012-01-01T16:48:00.000-08:00

Hey Everyone!

We've got a winner of Amber Skyze's new book, and that winner is...

...

...

...

Kathryn Merkel!

Congrats, Kathryn!!! Amber will be contacting your shortly. :)

New Contest - New Interview with Amber Skyze!

2011-12-27T00:34:00.000-08:00

Hey guys! Hopefully, everyone survived the holidays. I hope you're not all gifted out yet, because I've got the very sweet Amber Skyze on the blog, today and she's giving away a copy of her new release, I Wanna Sext U Up. All you need to do to enter is leave a comment with a valid email address in the comment section. Contest runs until Sunday, 7 pm.

Okay, let's find out more about Amber. :)

How did your writing path evolve?

I was raising kids and reading 2 novels a day. One day I had a thought, “hey I can do this.” Little did I know how difficult it really was, BUT I did it. :o)

From what or where do you derive the most inspiration for your stories?

I normally get inspiration from music. A verse in a song or a title can spark an idea.

Tell us about your upcoming releases?

I have a new release coming from Loose Id on December 27th. It’s a M/F Contemporary with a home improvement theme. It’s called I Wanna Sext U Up.
What are you working on at the moment?

Currently I’m working on my first shape shifter co-authoring project with Katalina Leon. I’m very excited about this project.

What do you like best about being a writer?

I love being able to create fantasy worlds for readers to enjoy.

What do you like least?

Rejection and bad reviews.

Do you find it difficult to keep love/sex scenes fresh and interesting?

This is one of the hardest things to do. Sometimes I get to the point where I don’t like writing sex scenes. I don’t think readers realize how difficult it really is to do something “new”.
Do you listen to music when you write or do you need quiet?

I love rock music, too much. The DH said I’ll still be head banging at 80. LOL I need it quiet because I get distracted easily.

Do you family and friends know you write erotic romance if so, how have they reacted?

My family knows and they’re cool with it, except my grandfather. For some crazy reason my mom told him and when he researched me he called my mom and said I needed to find the Bible again.

What’s your favorite food?

Buffalo wings

Do you have any bad habits?

I’m a procrastinator

What do you like about where you live?

The ocean is a twenty minute drive.

If you could travel back in time, would you? If so, what time period would you visit and why?
I’d travel to the Tudor era. I find Henry VIII so fascinating. Though, I wouldn’t want to be his wife. LoL

Thanks so much for having me here, Bron!

You're welcome and Happy Release Day! :D

Speaking of release day...here's the blurb for Amber's new book!

Tool belt…check. Rope…check. Lube…check. Violet Wand…Check.

Beckett Manning, the host of Room Makeovers is ready to give Riley Anderson more
than a remodeled kitchen. He’s about to bring her to the edge of ecstasy and back.

Whether it’s hot sex in the bathtub or Riley hog-tied to the bed, he’s
determined to show this brazen beauty how sexually desired she is.

A simple text leads to a case of mistaken communication and before long Riley finds
herself tied to her bed and being driven to distraction. Beckett knows how to tease
and torture every inch of her skin. He also knows his way around an orgasm, which
keeps Riley wanting more.

It's done!!! I finished the Stocking of Doom!!!

2011-12-26T14:24:00.000-08:00

Many of you know that I've been working on what I've affectionately dubbed The Stocking of Doom for my new sister-in-law. It's not a secret that I'm not a fan of pink...or orange, but Anne is. She wanted a fairy in those colors and she wanted it to look more like her with a darker skin tone - more Native American.

I'm here to tell you that DMC doesn't give a lot of floss options when it comes to non-caucasian skin tone, so...I did the best I could. But in the meanwhile, hey DMC - how about more variety, please?

So this is my color palette, including the backing fabric. You can scroll down to see the progress and the finished stocking. I'd forgotten how fun it is to use seed beads and bugle beads on a project. I'll probably be doing that again in the relatively near future.

Now everyone in the family has his/her own stockings and all is right with my world. This is number 17. Whew!

Naughty Christmas Kitties

2011-12-25T16:13:00.000-08:00

As you can see, Willow and Morrighan are at it again spreading their holiday cheer.

I hope all of you have had an absolutely wonderful holiday and that the next year brings you nothing but love, laughter and peace.

The cute! Let me show it to you!

2011-12-19T21:10:00.000-08:00

My friend Kim Dare's mom is made of awesome. Let me show you why. She made me an adorable Christmas elf doll for me! Then she decided that the elf doll (who still needs a name) might be lonely on her trip to the States from Wales, so she crocheted her a Welsh elf in traditional Welsh costume right down the the leek! Since my Gram was from Wales, I've had a lot of Welsh dolls over the years - this one is my favorite! :)

After she made these dolls, she made one for Kim. A little BDSM elf doll. His name is Switchy and he's adorable! Go here and take a peek - and also be in awe of her mom! She clearly rocks!

I've been remiss (surprise, surprise)

2011-12-17T08:29:00.000-08:00

So, I had a book release a couple weeks ago and I forgot to mention it, 'cause I've been busy and I suck a little. Turns out that I have another one coming out today, so I thought it might be a good idea to post about them.

Also, I'm procrastinating because I don't feel like making the metric fuck-ton of cookies required from me this weekend.

Two for the Shrew, part of the As We Like It collection is out from Resplendence Publishing. All of the books are re-imaginings of Shakespeare's classic plays.

Advertising executives, John Petruchio and Simon Verona have been awarded the account of a lifetime—the vitamin and supplement empire, Minola Essentials. But what they really want is the delectable but shrewish CEO, Catherine Minola.

Catherine is the queen of her company, so when her retired father hires an ad agency without telling her, she's less than thrilled. Even more so when she realizes the two men she’s never quite gotten out of her system are back and they’re not shy about making up for lost time.

She thinks a no-strings fling might be just what she needs, but they have other plans.

Today at Passion in Print, I have a holiday story out. It's called Unexpected Gifts.

Feeling sorry for herself, Cassie Williams plays sick to skip out of her family’s Christmas Eve gathering. She loves her family, but on the heels of a divorce and her ex’s new engagement, an evening of togetherness is the last thing she wants.

Long-time friend, Sam MacLane has been in love with Cassie for years, and he isn’t about to let her have her pity party. There’s a blizzard on the way, and Sam shows up on her doorstep—bearing gifts....

Damn...that didn't waste as much time as I'd hoped. Guess I'd better make those cookies. And the green bean casserole. Again.

Texts from Cait - Part Nine

2011-12-15T18:31:00.000-08:00

Okay, so this episode of Texts from Cait requires a little set-up.

Our mom is the most absent minded of absent minded professors. She's a brilliant woman, but easily distracted. Once, she accidentally washed a load of laundry with syrup because she had that in her hand when she wandered into the laundry room. She loses her glasses while they're on her face and her keys while they're in her hand. She's driven off more times than I can count with a cup of tea (or her purse) on the roof of the car. Sometimes, I'll come home to discover that she's stopped by and my jug of milk is in my cupboard. This is just the one we have. So the following really shouldn't have been a surprise.

(The first part of this is Cait relaying a conversation with mom.)

It's winner time! Six winners to be exact!

2011-12-13T17:47:00.000-08:00

I have no idea where my head is, but thankfully, the most awesome Chaos Chris has got my back and reminded me that I'm late choosing winners - 'cause she's fantabulous like that.

First off, under the guise of being on time and not at all forgetful, I'll announce the winner of the contest for Anna Mayle's book, first.

The winner is...

Bookwyrm369

Congratulations!!! Anna, will be contacting you shortly!

Okay, and now it's time for the winners of the contest celebrating my 500th blog post!

Yes, I'm 24 hours late announcing the winners, because...well...mostly I suck and lost track of time while focusing on the day job.

But, without further ado...or excuse making...here are the winners!!! (Also, I added a couple winners since there was such a great turnout!)

lindseye

Kay Dee Royal

Barbara

Teresa

Squeaky

I'll be contacting the winners shortly!

Thank you so much to everyone who stopped by to celebrate with me! You guys rock!

Riding in Cars with Boys - Part Sixteen

2011-12-09T00:34:00.000-08:00

I know we just had one, but I've got another Riding in Cars with Boys for you, because it cracked me up and I had to share.

Justin: My x-box live account finally gets unbanned today. Gonna play me some COD (Call of Duty for the uninitiated).

Me: Wait...you got banned on x-box live? What'd you do?

Justin: Hell if I know. I just got a notice that I was banned for a week.

Killian: Did you say "fuck" a few too many times?

Justin: Probably.

Not-Kevin: But don't you play mostly rated M games? I can't imagine that there are a lot of not-fuck-sayers on there where that would be a problem.

Me: (LOLing) Not-fuck-sayers? That's my new favorite phrase. Well done.

Killian: (in a snooty British accent) Are you a fuck-sayer or a not-fuck-sayer?

Justin: (responding in an equally snooty accent) I, good sir, am indeed a fuck-sayer.

Killian: I too, am a fuck-sayer. (long pause) Except at Nana's. She doesn't go for fuck-sayers or even shit-sayers.

I'm glad the child knows enough not to swear in front of my Step-mom.

New Contest - Anna Mayle's Dreams for a Stolen Child

2011-12-06T00:34:00.000-08:00

The lovely Anna Mayle has a new book out and she's offering a giveaway copy!!! YAY, Anna!!!

It's the third book in her Stolen Child series - dark tales of darker fae. (Though, it's the third book in a series, all books can be read independently.) All you have to do to enter for your chance of winning a copy is leave a comment with a valid email address before 7pm, Tuesday, December 13th when I'll draw the winner.

Here's the blurb:

Nightmares were supposed to begin with dark and stormy nights, not the cheerful colors of a carnival. Love was supposed to strike like lightning, not slip quietly through dreams and sleep until it bled into the waking world. Faeries were supposed to be myths...

Funny how nothing in Gentle Carvers life was what it was supposed to be.

And an excerpt:

Gentle stood alone in the dark, unsure of how he’d gotten there. A road lay solid beneath his feet, it twisted into the distance in fits and starts under the sparse glow of streetlights. His head was cloudy. He was lost. He wanted his mommy and daddy.

“Hello?” he piped, his child’s voice, small with fear, broke on the word and he tightened his small arms around his teddy bear. Gentle didn’t think about it until after raising his voice, but maybe he didn’t want anything answering from the nothingness that surrounded the road.

It was fine; no one answered him.

If someone had, he guessed that would be something, and something would spoil the nothing.

Slowly, a sense of familiarity oozed through his haze-filled mind. The road shouldn’t have been so dark, but he knew it. He should be standing by the drive to their house. Gentle tried to turn in the direction where home should be, but he couldn’t go that way. His feet didn’t want to. They wanted to follow the road.

So he did.

The dark didn’t let up as he walked. The lights were no help. Every time his eyes started to adjust to the gloom, he’d come to a bright circle of light beneath a lonely lamp, and his eyes snapped back to focus as if it were day. They were helping the blackness to keep him blind. It was scary, but he’d started walking already, and now his feet wouldn’t stop. His footy pajamas made soft shushing sounds against the blacktop, but there were more sounds now, getting louder.

Ahead, Gentle could hear music—light and energetic—commanding people to be happy, forcing the most closed soul to play. Blindly, led by the sounds, he walked. The closer he got, the clearer the song. In the background, a cacophony of various other tunes blended with the loudest. They called to spectators and participants, invited people to distractions and treats, like a mad pied piper with too many flutes.

Gentle crested the rise and the streetlights instantly lost their hold over him as rows of brightly colored orbs came into view. They were strung over tents, trailers and wagons, up and down poles and rides. Those bulbs lit up painted signs that advertised wild and wondrous sights—Seth the Snake-man, The Bird Creature of Brazil, Boneless Ben, The Strongest Man Alive, Madam Fortuna and her magic, so many names and paintings.

Mesmerized, he stepped under the large sign that welcomed all to the Carnival Du’nan.

Laughter echoed from the riders, and Gentle smiled widely. Along the thoroughfare, candies, games and brightly clad barkers reached out to him. However, it was an old school bus painted purple and red that caught his eye. Through the narrow, dusty windows lined in a row along the side of the vehicle, he could see a skinny agitated man pacing in and out of view while he gestured wildly to the smaller figure seated at the front of the bus. The calmer of the two—a short man with bare muscular arms, curly red hair and stubble across his chin—stood and opened the doors to the bus.

Both walked out into the night air, still arguing.

They headed right toward Gentle.

He flinched and shrank back, the shadows closed in protectively. He didn’t understand what was going on, but something deep inside him said those men were frightening, and so they were. He clutched his teddy bear tightly, held his breath, and waited. Once they were well past him, Gentle crept carefully in their wake.

“What’s wrong with it? Usually it gives more of a showing,” the taller of the two complained. “It keeps moping like this, and someone will start making noise about abuse.”

The shorter man scoffed at the first. “And what’ll they charge us with then? Not human, is it? Not animal, neither. It’ll be fine, I’m thinking. Just having an off day.”

“It hasn’t been looking so good lately. There’ve been a lot of off days.”

“Bend an ear, yeah?” the redhead coaxed as they ducked into a large tent. “It’s not that I don’t feel sorry for the creature. My heart goes out to it, it does. But those sweet little fairy stories you Americans tell yourselves, they’re just that—stories.”

The door flap closed behind the carnies, and Gentle stared at the striped panel for a long moment, listening to the conversation going on beyond it. He knew he shouldn’t be here. He should be out under the carnival lights, amongst the crowds eating cotton candy, playing games and riding rides. Something though—the same instinct that had told him to hide—told him that he needed to be in the tent.

Gentle slipped carefully under the canvas wall and crouched down low to watch the two men. They walked up to a wagon with a big, wooden box built on top of it, painted in the same style as the signs out on the midway. In the darkness, with only the barest hint of light peeking in through the tent flaps, the picture on the side remained mostly hidden in the gloom, but Gentle made out one word, “Prince”, in a swirled carnival scrawl.

The calm man fiddled with latches and locks around the box as he continued. “This one’s been locked up for hundreds of years in this cage, so it is. It’s been passed on from generation to generation of Fynn’s family, all traditional like. Thing’s a feking heirloom. I’d love to be rid of it, scares the shit outta me, but what do you think a monster would do to its captors once freed? Hmm? I might be scared of it now, but I’m more terrified of what it might become once on the other side of those bars.”

“It looks so helpless.”

“Right, that’s the seventh face I’ve seen it wear since Fynn got the damned inheritance. Looks like whatever it wants to look like, don’t it? That’s one of its tricks; every face is more sad and pitiable than the next. Word of advice, just learn to look beyond it. You travel our circuit long enough, and it’ll show you its real face. The thing can’t control it constantly. It flickers sometimes, so it does. Like a broken telly.” The shorter man took hold of a large handle on the box’s side and tossed his head at his companion. “Heft that side, would you?”

The nervous man curled his fingers around the wooden panel, and the other one was on him almost instantly, jerking the hand back into view.

“Use the handles! Put your hands round the bars like that, and it’s like to bite them fingers off!” the redhead spat. “Ain’t you sharp as a feking beach ball.”

“I got it, I got it,” the taller man mumbled, staring at the wooden planks as if monsters lay behind them.

Gentle stayed quiet and watched them with wide eyes as the panels were lifted off the sides of the wagon. The bright blue letters shifted a bit into the light, and he could finally see all of it. The inhabitant of the wagon cage was billed as a “Fae Prince from the darkest glens of the Emerald Isle”.

What Gentle saw though, was a boy about his age with dirty black hair that fell in long, lank tresses over eyes the lightest blue Gentle had ever seen. He looked too thin and too pale. His patched and mismatched clothing hung too large on his slender frame.

The short, redheaded man tossed a bundle of cloth into the cage and motioned to it. “Get dressed quick like. Fynn won’t go lightly on you if you keep up this act.”

The child stared at the men, eyes vacant. “You cry foul, an act? I have felt unwell for a fortnight. This land is strange to me. It spits venom into the veins directly and works in tandem with my prison to render me well and truly weakened,” the boy spoke clearly, but his voice tripped and bubbled, like it was flowing, instead of breathed, full of water.

“Can’t say as I’m too fond of the Americas myself, but Fynn is the boss. Come on, it’s not so bad as all that.”

“If this is so, perhaps you would like to try living your life within confinement.”

The short man shooed the nervous one out of the tent then turned back to the cage. “Look, it’s not my fault you went and got yourself caught. Don’t take it out on me.”

“You have made the choice to prolong my imprisonment,” the boy accused.

“Himself is the one making choices. Fynn’s the one what keeps you. I’m just doing my job. ‘Sides, I said before, your folk aren’t known for their mercy,” the redheaded man fired back.

“Neither are yours. Give me the knife then. If you fear me so, let me go in one way or release me in another.”

“Put on the costume, your public awaits.”

Tears gathered at the corners of the boy’s blue eyes. “A public who condemns me to this mockery of a life by paying you for my captivity. Mayhap they could go to Hell.”

“Oh, drop the royal airs,” the man scoffed. “In six hundred years I reckon you’ve learned enough to speak like a one of us.”

“Very well,” the caged boy breathed out in a wet whisper. “My public can kiss my lily white ass.”

For one frozen moment, Gentle thought the captive prince would be punished in some horrible fashion, but his jailer just laughed and turned to go.

It was crueler than a beating, that dismissal. The proud shoulders hunched, the head bowed. At first Gentle thought the boy was crying. Then it began to rain, backwards. Large drops pulled themselves out of the ground and soaked his pant cuffs, rolling up his legs. It wasn’t the drops the carnie should have paid attention to.

The caged boy lunged at the bars. One slender arm reached through to grab the collar of the grown man and lifted him off of the ground. The boy began to grow, arms gained muscle and body gained height. His pale skin looked almost blue in the darkness, and his eyes…

The carnie hung there without flinching. “This ain’t smart. Those bars must be hurting fierce like.”

Eyes alight with shifting colors, the boy stared at his tormentor. “There are some pains which are worth enduring.”

“And in this case, then? What’ll that be worth? The shirt’ll rip before my skin.”

“Your grip upon myself is as tenuous as my hold upon your person. You cannot keep one immortal captive for his entirety any more than you may clasp an ocean in your hands. I shall have my freedom and my revenge. Remember this. I shall revisit these words upon you the moment before you die.”

“Well then, may the cat eat you and the devil eat the cat,” the redheaded carnie grabbed hold of the small hand tightly, wrenched it from his collar and squeezed brutally. When his rings touched the boy’s flesh, a sizzling sound hissed through the tent. “We’re done here. Save it for the customers, Tinker Bell,” he mocked and lashed out with a metal cane.

The ragged child dropped the man and grew frail again, but the man didn’t let go. Instead, he held tight and gave the small arm a sharp jerk. The boy was pulled into the bars. The impact didn’t seem hard enough to really hurt, but the boy screamed a high and musical note of anguish. He fought away from the metal frantically. Tiny wisps of smoke rose where his flesh met metal, and a cloyingly sweet burning smell filled Gentle’s nose.

Gentle clamped his teddy bear over his mouth to muffle a squeak of terror, but those pale eyes sought him out unerringly. The two boys stared at each other for an eternal moment. Fear and desolation spoke clearly between them. Then the man let go, and the little prince scuttled back into the cage’s center, curling in on himself to hide behind the thick black curtain of his hair.

The man spit at him, lip curled in a sneer. “Be little lord rags for the crowds if that’s how you like it. But you’ll give your performance, mark me, or you’ll be dancing your jig on the end of Fynn’s prick, so it is. One way or another, you’ll entertain us,” he promised then left the tent with a swish of his metal cane.

“You should not have had to see that,” the boy whispered quietly.

Gentle’s gaze darted around the tent.

“We are quite alone,” the little prince sighed and crept carefully to kneel near the bars without touching them. His skin was blackened in stripes where he’d been pressed against them. It flaked and cracked and looked more painful than anything Gentle had ever seen. “Do not be afraid of me…please.”

The last word sounded foreign, as if the prince didn’t use it often. “I’m not scared,” Gentle insisted. “Not of you. I’m scared of the grownups.”

“Yes. They scare me too, at times.”

Gentle moved forward cautiously and reached a tentative hand to touch the bars. “They burned you.”

“It will heal. James knows better than to permanently damage me. My keeper, Fynn, holds them fast with threats and payment.”

Gentle was drawn to the cage with the same pull that had led him under the sign and into the carnival. Something pulsed between him and the boy, and just as he knew the men were frightening, he knew this caged being was his friend.

Gentle brushed a finger over his lips and reached into the cage to press the secondhand kiss against one of the blackened burns.

The boy cocked his head to the side like a confused dog, or maybe a bird. “I do not understand this ritual,” he spoke with almost no inflection. He was simply stating a fact, there may have been the barest hint of curiosity, but that was all Gentle could see.

“My mom kisses my hurts to make them better.”

Pale blue eyes narrowed in concentration a moment before the caged boy declared sadly, “This is not true of my race. The pain has not lessened.”

Gentle frowned. “Maybe it doesn’t count if you pass it along with your fingers.” He studied the cage a moment. “Give me your hand.”

“My hand?”

Gentle nodded and watched a drop of something foaming and white fall from the boy’s palm. “I think it’s bleeding.”

The strange boy blinked as he uncurled his fingers, four crude crescents were cut into his palm from the man’s jagged fingernails.

Gentle held his hand out for the other boy’s. “Your blood doesn’t look like mine.”

“That is because I am not like you, little human,” he explained patiently. “And I can see no reason for your ritual to be effective.” Nevertheless, he reached his arm out toward Gentle.

As carefully as he could, Gentle placed a kiss upon the bleeding palm of the captive prince. The strange blood pooling tickled his lips. He licked them unthinkingly and made a face. It tasted of cold lake water.

Those pale eyes stared at him, confused.

“It didn’t work,” Gentle guessed.

The captive smiled slightly; it almost made him glow. “Not in the way you meant it to, but I do feel…better. Thank you…”

“Gentle, but my mom calls me Gent, unless she’s mad at me.”

“Both names suit you well, gentle one.”

Gentle smiled back at the boy and asked. “What’s your name?”

“You could not pronounce it, I fear. However, James calls me Little Lord Rags.”

Gentle didn’t want to use such a mean name for his new friend. The distaste must have shown on his face because the hand he was still holding turned to squeeze his softly in comfort.

“Ronan. You may call me Ronan.”

“Ronan.” The name sounded so familiar on his lips. It was that familiarity that forced him to realize he was dreaming.

It was that name that woke him up again.

It's My 500th Post!!!

2011-12-04T15:08:00.000-08:00

Okay, I know that's not a big deal, especially since a lot of people are awesome and blog every day. But for me, it's pretty huge. Mostly because I'm really busy...and also easily distracted.

Shiny!

Oops. Right. Back to this post.

Okay, so anyway, I figured I should do something to celebrate my 500th blog post - and that something is a print book and swag giveaway! There will be three winners, and all you need to do to enter is leave a comment and a valid email address.

Included in the giveaway is a print copy of Overlord's Chosen, a notepad and a purse sized mirror. A print copy of Celtic Fire, a notepad and a purse sized mirror. And finally, a print copy of Seducing the Myth (awesome antho of erotic retellings of myths - my story Maiden's Grail is in there) note and mirror.

So, go on - what are you waiting for! Enter and say hi! :D The contest ends at 7pm, Monday the 12th.

Riding in Cars with Boys - Part Fifteen

2011-12-01T07:09:00.001-08:00

I know, I know. It's been way too long without an episode of Riding in Cars with Boys. Lately, it's been 90% video game talk and well...I'll admit most of it is unintelligible to me seeing as how I speak very little Area of Effect, Hit Points and Critical Damage.

Right before I left for school to pick up the boys, I got these texts from Killian.

Half an hour later, I pulled into the school parking lot and the boys piled into to the car along with a new blond kid I'd never seen before.

Justin: Good. I see you've brought the Bag of Holding. We'll be needing that for body hiding.

Me: (Peering at the poufy haired blond in my backseat) So...introductions?

Justin: This is Zach. He lives kinda by me and I told him you wouldn't mind bringing him home. Is that cool?

Me: Yeah, that's fine.

Justin: This is Mrs. Killian's Mommy, the coolest mother you will ever meet. Ever.

Me: I'd like that on a shirt, please.

Not Kevin: That can be arranged.

Zach: Nice to meet you. (Turns to Justin) Dude...did you just throw your own mom under a bus.

Justin: Yes. Because my mom is batshit crazy. And so is she, but in a totally good way. You'll see.

Me: And that's why I'm adopting you. Okay, so back to the whole body hiding thing. I assume this involves a girl?

Killian: But of course.

Justin: Her name is Meg.

Me: Is she from The Island?

Justin: I'm pretty sure she is. I talk to her every day in math. She likes the same books I like and she thinks Katniss (the heroine of The Hunger Games) is a whiny, selfish bitch, too.

Me: Okay, so ask her out.

Killian: She has a boyfriend. That's why we need your purse.

(In case you're wondering - this is the purse in question. Sure, I could probably fit a small child in there, but a teenage boy is pushing it.) Justin: Your kid is right. It's the only way.

Me: Murder is the only way to get a girlfriend?

Justin: Look, I don't know who your kid killed to get a girlfriend as great as the one he has, but it must have been someone.

Me: Maybe he's just awesome and she sees that about him.

Justin: Or he drugged her. Did you drug her?

Killian: No, I didn't drug her.

Justin: Whatever. I don't believe you. I just know that this guy has to go, then I can move in with the comfort and sympathy.

Not-Kevin: And bingo-bango! Girlfriend!

Me: I'm pretty sure that's not how it works, guys.

Killian: Well if you're not gonna help us, maybe Siri will.

Then this happened.

Zach: Pick swamps. Swamps are good.

Me: Of course, Siri offers help for hiding a body. Not helping, Siri! And you guys wonder why I fear Skynet.

Sadly, (for Justin, anyway) Meg's boyfriend hasn't found his way into my purse or any of the other places Siri suggested.

Texts from Cait - Part Eight

2011-11-30T05:26:00.000-08:00

I know we just had a texts from Cait, but this amused me. Also, I've been a real bad blogger.

Bringing the Green Bean Casserole. Again.

2011-11-24T06:46:00.000-08:00

It's that time of year when my family only trusts me to bring one dish to the big family gathering. Green Bean Casserole. Now granted, I make a bitchin GBC - it includes extra goodies like garlic, cheddar cheese and bacon. Mmmmm...bacon.

You see, while my family loves me, they don't trust me.

It's true, I'm not a great cook, but I get by. I'd like to think that I could branch out a little and try something else. Maybe those cheesy potatoes with the crunchy stuff on top. Or squash. Or hell, a pie. But nope, I'm on GBC duty. Again.

As has become tradition on this blog, I'm going to mention a few things I'm thankful for.

First and foremost, I'm thankful for my family - even though they're actively stifling my creativity in the kitchen. I have the most amazing kids, husband, siblings, parents and extended family. They're all a little crazypants, but I wouldn't trade any of them.

I'm thankful for my friends - online and real life alike. The connection that have with these people is amazing. I know that there are some people who don't understand that it's possible to build real, loving, supportive relationships with people you may never physically meet, but it's true. I love you guys, and I'm grateful for each and every one of you. And my real life friends, I love you, too. You're all amazing.

I'm thankful that I'm able to build a career that encompasses two of my biggest passions - reading and writing. I feel incredibly lucky to spend my work day editing other authors and writing my own stuff. Grants, some work days are longer than others - and I've had some doozies lately - but no matter how crappy the day is, I'd still rather do this than anything else.

In no particular order, I'm thankful for laughter, dark chocolate, my kids' laughter, changing leaves, the support of my friends and laughing til we cry, bonfires, music, purring kittens, Starbucks, foggy mornings, starry nights, stories to lose myself in, a roof over our heads, books, creative outlets, thunderstorms, snow days, the clacking sound of knitting needles, hot tea, apple butter...

I could go on and on and I probably would if I didn't have to mix up that green bean casserole. Mostly, I'm just thankful for the life I have and I'm thankful for everyone in it. I hope that everyone who celebrates has an awesome Thanksgiving and those who don't have a wonderful day.

And as we say in my fam, Happy Infect and Kill the Indigenous People Day. (As you may have gathered, we're not particularly reverent.) ;)

Texts from Cait - Part Seven

2011-11-16T16:54:00.000-08:00

It's time for another episode of Texts from Cait...and yet another example of why I freaking love my sister.

Another week, another winner!!!

2011-11-13T18:29:00.001-08:00

Thanks so much to everyone who stopped by and said hi to Rebecca Bond! I love the writing community and it always makes me happy to introduce new friends to my old ones and just share the love.

Now, it's winner time!

The winner of Rebecca's brand new book is

...

...

...

Sharazade!!!!

Sharazade, I'll have Rebecca email you as soon as possible!

Thanks again to everyone - especially, the loverly Rebecca!

Got Awkward?

2011-11-10T04:41:00.000-08:00

As many of my regular readers go, I'm pretty much the Queen of Awkward. I've got a prime example of the the crap that happens to me over at the Writer's Evolution Blog - one I don't think I've shared with you, yet. At least...I can't find it anywhere on the blog, so hopefully, it's new to you. :)

Please feel free to tell me about your most embarrassing story. I promise, you'll be in good company.

You Know What's Awesome?

2011-11-09T06:55:00.000-08:00

A writer who gives up all of her royalties on a novel to help a wonderful and much needed charity.

The charity is called ALSO Out Youth. They strive to end all forms of violence, harassment and discrimination based on real or perceived sexual orientation or gender identity. Their mission is to enhance self-esteem, promote healthy dialogue, and increase awareness of sexual minority issues.

ALSO Out Youth provides many direct services, including peer support services, social activities, educational programs and workshops, advocacy, and referrals for gay, lesbian, bisexual, transgender, intersex, and questioning youth ages 13 to 21, their families and friends, and the community.

See what I mean? An amazing charity!

And the author in question is my equally amazing friend, Kim Dare. She'll be sending all royalties from her November release, Touching Wood to ALSO Out Youth. I hope you'll consider helping by purchasing a copy of her book.

Here's the Blurb:

It’s been quite a while since Ross and his master, Harry, have had time to go down into their basement play room and have some fun together. That’s about to change.

Everyone knows that touching wood can bring a person luck and Ross needs all the luck he can get tonight. Failing to touch wood isn’t an option—but when a man is bound and helpless it isn’t necessarily easy to succeed either.

Please help me welcome Bond...Rebecca Bond (oh c'mon - you know I had to do it)

2011-11-07T02:58:00.000-08:00

I don't know if I've waxed poetic about Twitter lately, but damn, I love it! In fact, Twitter is where I met today's guest. Rebecca is a an absolute sweetheart with a wicked sense of humor, and I adore her. She's just genuinely kind and writes some super hot stories. While she's fairly new on the scene, she's definitely an author worth watching!

So please join me in welcoming Rebecca and because she's such a doll, she's offering a copy of her brand new book, Purest Possession to one lucky commenter. Please be sure you leave a valid email address! (Contest ends 11/13/11 - 8pm EST)

How did your writing path evolve?

My writing style and ‘path’ is an ever-changing beast, constantly evolving and (hopefully) improving. This will never change as, like many, I’m constantly striving for perfection and have an incredibly long journey ahead of me. How I write now is a vast improvement on scribblings of a year ago, and how I write this time next year will undoubtedly be vastly better than my current offerings. That’s just how the story goes. But the evolutionary process is always fun and interesting, is it not?!

What type of research do you do for your books?

Writing for this specific genre has led me on quite a path of discovery. In the name of erotica I have learned much about the vast sexual world around us, some of which I’ve delighted in, and some of which I wish I remained ignorant to. Some makes me glow, some makes me cringe, but it’s been an interesting journey of discovery and elements of these findings are slowly beginning to weave their way into my stories. But for me, like most writers, imagination is the key and therefore not every act or scene has to be researched in person in order have the sh*t written out of it in a story.

From what or where do you derive the most inspiration for your stories?

People I come in to contact with usually provide inspiration for characters, whether it be physically or certain personality traits. My senses account for a lot to; I might smell something that will spark an image that leads to a creation of a new scene or story. Or I might touch something that sparks an idea about something sexy. Then of course, as a keen and frequent traveller, different locations always inspire me.

Tell us about your upcoming releases?

Well, I have had a few titles released lately so here’s a little extract of each: -
Roxy’s Revelation (Ravenous Romance) – Annalise has always been shy, content to fall into the background as her outgoing best friend, Roxy, shines brightly enough for them both. When a fun girl's night out turns sour, Annalise finally realises just how naughty her best friend and housemate can be and why it is that she so easily falls victim to Roxy's evil schemes. Annalise finds herself at her best friend's mercy, thrust into a night of deliciously daring deeds. Submitting herself to Roxy, Annalise soon realizes that she may have more power than she thought.

“Please Rox,” Annalise begged, “make me yours.”

It was all Roxy needed to hear. Sitting back, she untied Annalise’s wrists, making her rest on her hands and knees before securing her wrists to the wrought iron bed frame. Slowly she began to expose Annalise; first her corset was removed, freeing her ample breasts, the cool air forcing rose-tinted nipples into hard peaks. Roxy ran a hand from the centre of her shoulder blades, along her spine and down to where the strip of leather covered her bottom. The skirt came off, closely followed by sodden panties, leaving Annalise prone and bare against whatever onslaught Roxy had in mind.

Annalise whimpered as she felt a firm grip around her neck, her breath constricted as silky hands put just the right amount of pressure against her throat, tugging her head back.

“Relax ‘Lis, I’m not going to hurt you,” Roxy spoke sweetly, planting a kiss against her head as she went about her work. The darkness that surrounded her as Roxy slipped the blindfold around her eyes unnerved her. Butterflies began to flutter in her stomach as she realised just how vulnerable she was in her current state. Her heart began to pound within her chest as she waited for Roxy’s next move, a throb building in her cunt as heart and pussy danced in synchronised rhythm.

Buy it here

Painted Pussycat, in Immoral Views (Sweetmeats Press) – An innocent student is welcomed into the Circle of Ink where tattoos, bondage and exhibitionism are all part of her initiation.
I would gaze through the windows as men and women had their flesh stained, tarnished forever with the tattooists’ mark. It was intoxicating. Every time a new client arrived my pulse would race, my body tingle, my mind blur. . .my pussy throb. It was after those hours spent watching the artist’s gun, that I would return home, lock myself in my bedroom and tease climax after climax from my cunt. I would be so aroused by the time I got home that, no sooner had I reached my bedroom, I was eagerly stuffing my hand into my panties and slipping my fingers between my puffy lips, my pussy slick and silky with my juice.

I would pet myself to thoughts of needle and ink. Sometimes I would think back to that first time I stood inside the shop with Carmen behind me, her hands on my shoulders and her lips against my ear. I would imagine her whispering words of filth as I watched Alicia’s golden flesh become tainted with the darkest black and the brightest red. It’s these thoughts that would bring me to orgasm. Soon it was all I could think about, the only way I could cum...

Ebook - Buy it here.
Illustrated paperback – Buy it here.

Purest Possession (Noble Romance) – Celestine is an inexperienced peasant girl who, at twenty-two years of age, still knows nothing of life outside the small French town of Chamboise. For years she has lived in fear of the inhabitants of Château de Délicieux, all too aware of the punishments that are administered at such an establishment.

When Celestine is summoned to the castle by the High Marguise, little does she know that she is about to embark on a journey of delicious discovery and commit the sweetest of sins. This sapphic tale tells of the emotion one woman feels as she succumbs to a life of sexual possession at the hands of her mistress.

As the guard pushed me through the gate and into the courtyard of the castle, the world began to spin, turned upside down in an instant. I rubbed at my eyes, blinking again and again to make sure what I saw really existed. Male servants tended women, scores and scores of women. I felt the rosy blush creep up my neck and settle in my cheeks as I looked on, never before seeing so much naked flesh. Everyone was naked save for a smattering of jewellery, a pearl earring here, and ruby necklace there.

The men wore tattoos, all identical in design and location—a black dagger pointing towards their hearts.

“It’s a symbol,” a voice behind me said, “a symbol that they are members of the Order Délicieux, servicemen to the Ladies of Chamboise.”

I was in a trance. The sight of women being worshipped in ways my mind couldn’t comprehend hypnotised my young eyes. Flesh was caressed, skin was kissed, nipples plucked, pussies fucked.

“Beautiful isn’t it?” the voice said again. A woman.

I felt a hand brush my long hair over my shoulder and begin to slip my rags from my body. I couldn’t protest, my body fixed to the floor, my mind muddled with confusion. I jumped as her fingers grazed against my mound and turned to look at the stranger.

“Yes, I do believe you think it beautiful.” She brought a finger to her lips, slick and glossy. “Your body certainly does.”

I looked at her, gazing at her lips as she sucked my juice from her slender finger. My skin prickled as I watched her tongue snake out to lap away the remaining residue. There I stood, twenty-two years of age, not a girl, not quite a woman. I was completely devoid of experience. I didn’t know what it was like to be touched in the ways that happened to those all around me.

“Who are you?” I asked, my voice barely a whisper. “Why am I here?”

Buy it here.

What do you like best about being a writer?

The freedom to explore new worlds, for in the imagination anything is possible!

What do you like least?

My muse disappearing for days on end and leaving the work unfinished – drives me bonkers!

What would you do if you weren’t a writer? Professional Cadbury’s Giant Buttons eater.

What do you enjoy doing when you’re not writing?

I’m partial to some major nap action, or you’ll find me down the local supping on a vodka or two. Or three. Sometimes four.
Of all of the characters you’ve created, who is your favorite and why?

I adore Celestine, the lovely lady-servant to the High Marquise in Purest Possession, because she is just too cute for words; so inexperienced and vulnerable. I do adore Rexxie Belle too, the leading lady from Painted Pussycat, because she recognises a fetish for inking and embraces it, taking the art of tattooing to new and exciting levels whilst receiving much sexual fulfilment. Yummers!

Do you find it difficult to keep love/sex scenes fresh and interesting?

Yes. Who doesn’t?
What genre of books least appeals to you and why?

Cookery books. Why? Because that requires actual effort to cook. Not for me.

Do you listen to music when you write or do you need quiet?

I often write in silence and in a room with minimal lighting – this dark space allows my creativity to blossom and although I’m a musical nut, I don’t like to threaten the creativity that the solace of silence allows.

What makes a man sexy?

Attitude.
Do you family and friends know you write erotic romance – if so, how have they reacted?

Most of my pals and some of the fam. knows. The Mother knows and approves (and quietly loves it!), The Boy knows and most of my friends and some work colleagues know. They all love it – I haven’t had a negative reaction yet, although there a couple of bods who I think struggle to now separate me from the writing. The Father and The Brother however, definitely do not know. I intend on keeping it that way!
What’s your favorite food?

Roast potatoes. Cadbury’s Giant Buttons. Mushrooms and black pudding on toast. Not all together obvs.
Do you have any bad habits?

LOADS. Far too many to go into here.

If you were stranded on a desert isle, what five things would you want to have with you?

The Boy, Sebastien Chabal, Dave Grohl. . .ooooooh, five things? Erm. . .vodka, my ipodular with an everlasting battery and speakers, pen and pad, and toothpaste! Oh, and an iphone. And maybe some food. And underwear! Or just a bikini. And maybe a little beach hut I could sleep in, with a king-sized bed and sheets of Egyption cotton and fluffy pillows. Lip balm. Sun screen. Some toys to play with. Too greedy?

What do you like about where you live?

The diversity - in London Town anything goes!

Contact Details: -
Website: www.missrebeccabond.co.uk
Twitter: @MissRebeccaBond
Facebook: MissRebeccaBond author page

I admit it...I'm addicted

2011-11-05T13:06:00.000-07:00

I have a confession.

I'm addicted to Pinterest.

I had no idea what it was until I came across this blog post by Brittany Gibbons - Why Pinterest is Like Black Tar Heroin. So after that rousing endorsement, I had to check it out and fell in love. I like to think of it as a slightly more organized version of tumbler.

To the casual observer, it looks like a collection of cool pictures. But it's oh so much more than that. I currently have thirteen boards that house my collections. There's art that I like, recipes I want to make, a board devoted to my lifelong obsession with gypsies, another that has adorable animals, another with clothes I'd like to wear, and another with inspirational quotes. You can name your boards whatever you like. For instance, my recipe board is called, "Let's be honest...it's food porn." And my craft board is called, "Craft ideas...'cause I need more damn hobbies."

The great thing about this cool collection of pictures, is if I see a recipe I want to try, I don't need to remember where the hell I found it on the internet. The picture that I've saved on Pinterest also saves the original link, so I can always find my way back to it. Like that pair of boots but aren't ready to order them yet? Pin it on your fashion board and come back to them when you're ready.

The great thing is that you can make boards for whatever interests you. Like my Dream House board. Le sigh...

If you're interested in making a Pinterest account of your own, read the post by Brittany. She breaks it down with easy to follow instructions way better than I ever could.

I was gonna post some of my favorite pictures to share with you guys, but I kept getting distracted by all the awesome and damn it, I've got two books to write!

Know any traveling gypsy horse traders?

2011-11-02T09:33:00.000-07:00

When we were little, and being particularly annoying, my mother used to threaten to sell us to the first traveling gypsy horse trader who happened by. I would wait excitedly by the window for the gypsies to arrive with their painted wagons and horses and twirly skirts. They never showed. Finally, my brother, Tim, spoiled it by pointing out that there hadn't been any traveling gypsy traders in years - if ever - in this part of Michigan.

Jerk.

Now, this news didn't stop me from fantasizing about running away with the the gypsies, but I'll admit, I didn't wait by the window as much anymore.

When my own kids were little and being annoying, in addition to wishing that the Goblin King would come and take me away right now, I also told them that I was planning to run off with the first gypsy horse trader that happened by.

They just told me there weren't any traveling gypsy horse traders around anymore.

Noticing a theme here? Well, screw that.

If I can't run away with the gypsies, I'll write about them instead. And here's my shiny new cover! Gypsy Wolf will be out early next year! And it has a wagon on it!!!!

Pirate Santa!

2011-10-30T18:07:00.000-07:00

I've been trying not to be so one-sided lately - you know - only focused on writing. Of course, with the deadlines, that's been a little tough, but I'm trying. This is a craft project I've been working on since we went on vacation in July. Mostly, I work on it on car trips and Friday nights at Brynn's while watching Supernatural. But I finished it yesterday while visiting my dad! I still need to frame it, but here's my first finished cross stitch project of the year.

Scroll down to see all the pics. ;)

Yup - it's Pirate Santa - complete with candy cane peg leg and hook and a little pewter treasure map.

A Winner for Mia!

2011-10-30T18:03:00.000-07:00

Hey Guys!

It's that time again - winner time!

And that winner is...

...

...

Sherry!

Congratulations!

Mia will be emailing you shortly and a huge thanks to everyone who entered!

Ta-DA! It's Pumpkin Time!

2011-10-29T20:46:00.000-07:00

Here are this year's pumpkins! Mine are at the leaves, Corwin's is Darth Vader, Killian's is the Transformers symbol and Cait's is the dragon. I think they turned out pretty darn well. And as a bonus, Matt was here! He's been in Russia for the past two Halloween's, so this has been especially cool.

I still have to make Corwin's costume, yet because well...I'm right on schedule as usual. I did hear the best description ever at the fabric store tonight, though. The woman at the counter and the woman behind me and I were talking about how people always want things made at the last minute. The woman behind me said she calls that being "conveniently competent and creative." Perfect description.

Now, I'm about to turn into a pumpkin myself. Tomorrow, I'll be roasting pumpkin seeds and figuring out how to make a barbarian costume.

Misread of the Day

2011-10-27T00:34:00.000-07:00

So...yesterday, I drove past the junkyard on the way to get the boys from school.

The sign said: Let us help you find your parts.

Only I read: Let us help you find your pants.

It made me giggle - particularly because erotic romance characters are always wandering around without their pants or straight up losing them as some of my characters have done.

In other news, my 20th book released yesterday! Autumn Sacrifice, the 10th book in RP's Phases series came out. I'm so glad it's out. And yep, if you're wondering, it's another Yooper Menage. ;) Only two more books and the entire series will be wrapped up. It's hard to believe that we came up with that idea over a year ago!

But here's my blurb:

When Brenna Alten returns home to attend her cousin’s wedding, she expects to reconnect with friends and family. She doesn’t anticipate hooking up with her adolescent crush Caleb Mahingan or his brothers. Despite a night of sizzling hot sex, Brenna believes this can’t turn into more, but Caleb has other plans for her. As Alpha of his small pack, he knows she's his mate and he doesn't intend to give her up without a fight.

Marvelous Mia

2011-10-26T05:59:00.000-07:00

Today, I've got Mia Watts on the blog with me! Her brand new MM Historical Shifter book, Feral Lust is out today from Resplendence Publishing and as an added bonus, if you leave a comment (and a valid email address) you'll be entered to win the e-book of your choice from Mia's impressive collection - even the brand new shiny one! A winner will be drawn Sunday at 9pm EST.

So, let's get started - first the interview, then the blurb and excerpt!

How did your writing path evolve?

I don’t remember a time when I wasn’t writing. As a young child I made up stories in my head to put myself to sleep. I’d drift off and pick up the story the following night, just to see where it ended. As I got older, I kept journals and wrote stories in with my diary entries. And later, I’d be driving a long commute to work and keeping pace with a story in my mind.

Even now, as a mom with kids of my own, I tell stories and invent explanations. The kookier the better.

What type of research do you do for your books?

Whatever is necessary. I have researched everything from the history and style of scissors, to architecture, pre-historical American Indian culture and archeology, to the fancy wear of Regency era clothing. I’ve studied the provenance of floggers and the exact way to tie a cravat, to invisible poisons, and exactly how early medicine would have handled a closed complete leg fracture

If it’s going to be in a book, I’ll look for the facts.
From what or where do you derive the most inspiration for your stories?

From things that make my heart go pitter-pat. I like taboo subjects like forbidden loves and relationships that might not be welcome, like best friends to lovers. I enjoy things that get my pulse racing, and will push my own inhibitions through writing until I find that line I just can’t cross. I did find it, by the way. Very recently. I wrote the story, but there’s not likely to be a sequel.

Tell us about your upcoming releases?

Well, as you know, Feral Lust comes out today. It a historical male/male (Mia Watts) shifter book where I play heavier with BDSM than I ever have. It was fun and scary because of it. I have an adaptation of Shakespeare’s Twelfth Night coming out. It’s a male/female (Katie Blu) book titled Twelve Nights. That releases on the 16th of November with your book, among several other authors. Then on the 25th of November, I have a super short male/male (Mia Watts) book coming out at MLR to celebrate Black Friday.

What are you working on at the moment?

I’m working on two books at the moment. I’m trying to get ahead of publisher expectations, so that I can plan ahead on a few series. I’m working on a Navy SEALs book for Katie Blu, and another Regency shapeshifter book that’s also male/female for Katie Blu.

Then I’m working on a semi-secret series of books that will either piss a few people off, or make people laugh. *Crossing fingers* Bet you know how I hope it’s received, huh?

What do you like best about being a writer? What do you like least?

Best: I work at home. That means I’m accessible to my children 100% of the time.
Worst: I work at home. That means I’m accessible to my children 100% of the time.
What would you do if you weren’t a writer?

I’m sorry. That question doesn’t compute.
What do you enjoy doing when you’re not writing?

Ha! Ha ha ha ha haaaaa!!! Good one!

Of all of the characters you’ve created, who is your favorite and why?

Seth. I haven’t written him yet. He’s still in the ol’ noggin’. I’m selfish about him. I want it to be really good and I think I finally have something coming next year.
Do you find it difficult to keep love/sex scenes fresh and interesting?

Sometimes. Usually the characters rule the story and they do things they way they’d, well, do things. When I think too much, then the sex gets challenging. In books. *ahem*
What genre of books most appeals to you and why?

Regency. It’s all about the romanticized version of the era. I’m in love with it.

Do you listen to music when you write or do you need quiet? If you listen to music – what kind?

I rarely listen to music. I work best in total silence. There were three titles, though, that required it. I listened to an assorted collection of my own that included Adam Lambert, Katy Perry, and Alanis Morrisette, along with Fall Out Boys. The other one, I listened to a compilation of non-depressing love songs that Brynn Paulin got for me.

What makes a man sexy?

Humor and intelligence. There’s no substitute for that.
Do you family and friends know you write erotic romance – if so, how have they reacted?

My real friends know and they’re supportive. My family hasn’t a clue.

What’s your favorite food?

Everything. Ta da! Wasn’t that easy?

Do you have any bad habits?

I waffle. In my head, out loud, on the phone, in my notes. I can debate ANYTHING with myself and end more confused that when I started. I blame my high school debate team for ruining me.

If you were stranded on a desert isle, what five things would you want to have with you?

I’d rather be on a dessert isle, but okay. I can work with this… Um. A magic genie lamp, a hurricane resistant mansion, a serving staff of handsome virginal men (hey, I’m clean, but I need them to be in case the condoms run out), an endless supply of food in a magical pantry, a boat with gas in it, and the entire library of congress.

I like to do things in style, baby.

Do you have any pet peeves?

Yep, but they evolve/change depending on my mood. Something that totally pisses me off one day, may not even faze me the next. Like people yelling at me. If I’m having a rough day, don’t even TRY to go there with me, because I’ll f*cking win. Otherwise, yell all you want. I have the blank stare on standby and I really won’t care unless you get personal. Then all bets are off. That’s, you know, a for instance.
What do you like about where you live?

It’s mine. Only mine. I’ve had a lot taken away from me in the past, but this one? Yeah, you can’t touch it.
If you could travel back in time, would you? If so, what time period would you visit and why?

Ironically, as much as I love the Regency period, I wouldn’t go. I know for a fact I’d never fit in. I’m too… what would you say, Bronwyn? Too irreverent? Unpredictable? Verbal? Not willing to submit quietly to social order? Unhappy with feminine hygiene products of the era?

I think I’d go back to dinosaur landia and the cave dudes. But only if I could come back when things got dicey.

Bronwyn, thanks for the opportunity to come and chat with your readers. This has been a blast.

Feral Lust: Blurb

As a third son of an Earl, Mr. Michael Hastings hasn’t a title or lands. Since a title comes with responsibilities, Michael needs only money to leave the prying eyes behind and live a quiet life—with another man.

Country recluse Viscount Lord Atherton is the bearer of a family curse. He must wed and conceive an heir before his birthday, or live with the painful physical changes that turn him from man to wolf, several times a month. But Atherton has another, dangerous secret. His attraction to men could place him at the end of the hangman’s noose, for sodomy.

Atherton pays Hastings to groom him in order to find a wife by Christmas. Yet the more time Atherton spends with Hastings, the more he wants to know. And when Hastings displays a lust for sex play that rivals his own, can Atherton trust Hastings enough to share the truth behind his quest? As Atherton loses his heart where he least expects it, he wonders if he can fulfill his destiny, or face a lifetime of pain from the curse?

Feral Lust: Excerpt

Mr. Leedy tried to direct him to the left corridor, but Michael froze in shock. A man stumbled against the wall, his shaggy blond head bowed as he drunkenly wobbled on his feet. But what shocked him most was the man’s state of undress. Namely, the man’s stark nudity.

He was tall and muscled as though he were a laborer, however his skin appeared far too pristine to have ever been scalded by the sun. Michael stared in fascination at the delineation of his chest and abdomen. While he himself had a well-formed body, Michael had never encountered a man of breeding with such obvious physical power. His musculature marked each rib; it hugged a central line of hair that flared just below the umbilicus to collect at the base of a magnificent cock and low, full testicles.

“Mr. Hastings, please come this way.” Mr. Leedy tugged on Michael’s arm.

Michael jerked out of his grasp. “Is this Lord Atherton?”

The nude man lifted his head. Piercing silver eyes met Michael’s for the first time. Michael inhaled sharply. Whoever he was, the naked god before him had drunk more than his share of spirits.

Michael frowned. It appeared he had his work cut out for him. Two months, a period he’d thought was more than adequate to prepare a lord for a Christmas Ball, suddenly seemed far too limiting.

“His lordship is not well. Please come away with me, immediately,” Mr. Leedy insisted.

“His lordship hired me to prepare him for social interaction. Where better to start than the appropriateness of adequate attire in public?” Michael argued.

“You are a day early, sir. You have no idea what you’ve come across. Mind yourself that you don’t judge before being privy to the workings of this house.” Mr. Leedy snatched at Michael’s arm again.

Michael turned and walked to Lord Atherton, who was slowly regaining some balance. The handsome lord took hold of the door handle as though he meant to flee inside, but Michael reached him before he could escape. Michael put his hand over Lord Atherton’s. Without waiting for permission, he slipped his arm around the lord’s bare waist, and opened the door.

“Lean on me, my lord. I’ll help you settle,” Michael directed firmly.

“Really, Mr. Hastings, you overstep yourself,” Mr. Leedy barked.

Michael glared at him. “Perhaps I have, Mr. Hastings, or perhaps his lordship requires more care than I was led to believe. Either way, I’m here now, and he requires assistance. There will be time later for you to chastise me. At present I’ll do precisely what I was hired to do and it begins here, now, with his lordship at the very bottom of his preparedness.”

Mr. Leedy sputtered.

Michael was surprised to hear the low chuckle of his naked employer. “It’s alright, Leedy. I’ve been caught, and you’ve been corrected.”

Michael didn’t wait to see if Leedy permitted him to continue, he helped his lordship into the room. A huge suite opened with an enormous bed and rich appointments. Decadent burgundy details on rich cream adorned the bed and canopy, reflected in the colors throughout the room’s decoration. Though the combination could have been feminine, the large heavy wooden furniture stopped it short and spoke only of masculine elegance.

This room belonged to a man of breeding and culture. It didn’t fit the drunken lord who wandered undressed through the halls of his castle. Perhaps it promised more lucid moments, or it had been decorated by another’s eye and was tolerated by a man who didn’t care one way or the other about the things which surrounded him. Michael assumed he’d discover the truth soon enough.

He carefully led his lordship to a dressing chair. “Sit here, my lord. I’ll collect your attire.”

A pile of clothes had been left on the floor. Michael gathered them and carefully laid them at the foot of the bed for the housekeeper to review. Then, moving between the armoire and the chest of drawers, he pulled together a fine outfit in gray tones to match the man’s unusual eye color. He gave a passing thought to the awareness that he’d considered the color perhaps too closely, but brushed it aside. He brought the garments to the dressing chair and lifted the gown first.

Lord Atherton stared steadily at him.

“My lord, might you lift your arms for me?”

He tried to hold his lordship’s gaze as though it were no difficulty. Silver eyes regarded him above the slight tilt of a curious smile. Atherton sat back in his chair, pushing his legs out before him in a reclining pose. Slowly Atherton cocked a tawny brow.

If Michael weren’t convinced of Atherton’s drunkenness, he’d have sworn the man was taunting him. It was foolish to think so. Atherton had no way of knowing Michael’s inclinations toward other men, and yet the new pose spiked Michael’s already accelerated heart rate.

“Are you so ready to cover me up, Mr. Hastings?”

He was, but not in the manner Atherton intended. “You’ll catch cold, and it’s unseemly to parade about undressed.”

A golden glint entered the man’s eyes. Michael thought he imagined the color shift. Atherton’s eyes narrowed. He gripped the armrests, and rose to his full height, towering over Michael by several inches. He stood close, and Michael debated whether he should retreat to give his lordship room, or if this was a test of his mettle.

Deciding that his lordship had better get used to being directed over the next two months, Michael stood his ground. He lifted his gaze from broad shoulders to lips that had twisted into a knowing smile, and up to the bi-tonal silver and gold-streaked irises. He caught his breath. The man was truly magnificent.

Atherton’s expression had changed when they’d entered the room. His lordship had appeared calm if chagrined. All semblance of discomfort had fled. In its place rooted dominance and something darkly aware. Michael suddenly remembered his place and glanced away. He might be a drunken man’s tutor, but he wasn’t a Viscount’s better.

Atherton chuckled low as he had earlier. “Why dissemble now, Hastings? You’ve stood your ground admirably, despite your odd welcome here.”

“My lord, forgive my impertinence. I’m here to help you, not offer up judgment.”

“And yet you have judgment, don’t you?”

Fingers sifted into the back of Hastings’s cued hair, scraping lightly against his scalp and roughly pulling until Michael had no choice but to look at the man who commanded his attention.

A low rumble escaped Atherton, and he descended, claiming Hastings’s mouth in the kiss of a starving man. Michael lost his bearings as his head swam and his stomach plummeted sharply. Held in place by the hand in his hair, Michael’s knees weakened. He scrabbled at Atherton’s shoulders, trying desperately to hold on and keep his feet. Lust swamped him.

He gasped, and Atherton easily invaded him. His tongue passed Michael’s lips to fill his mouth. Michael’s body rioted. His cock filled, pressing insistently at his breeches. The forbidden press of a man’s lips to his tipped his senses.

We Have a WINNER!!!

2011-10-25T16:59:00.000-07:00

Thanks to everyone who stopped by and learned a little more about the very lovely Lucy Felthouse! I really appreciate it!

And...

with only very little ado

the winner is...

CASEY BEHR!!!

I'll be sending your info along to Lucy and you should hear from her soon! And congratulations!!!

Got Psychics? (Also - there are lots of books to win!)

2011-10-25T07:32:00.000-07:00

I'm over at the lovely Eliza Gayle's blog giving away books and talking about my friend who's a professional psychic. Please come over and say hi? I'm all lonely and stuff. *sniffle sniffle*

EDIT: Man...I'm all over the place today. I totally forgot that I'm also over at the delightful Justine Elyot's blog, too! I'm talking about the inspiration for my story, Maiden's Grail which is part of the awesome Seducing the Myth anthology.

And if you missed it you still have a chance to win books at other places. There's a nifty interview over at the The Forbidden Bookshelf and some of my favorite costumes are hanging out over the Read All Over Reviews blog.

All these contests run until the end of the month, so what are you waiting for? Come and see me! Leave a comment for a chance to win books! It'll be spiffy!

Why Siri is a better mom than me...

2011-10-24T07:20:00.000-07:00

So...Killian has been saving his money, and when his phone contract came up for renewal, he decided to get the new iPhone 4S. If you're unfamiliar with this little gem, the 4S has a virtual assistant. You can speak to it and it'll do speech to text, it'll call people and it'll answer questions. For instance, this morning he asked Siri how many were left 'til Christmas. My blood ran cold when she announced "62 days" in her smug sounding computerized voice.

However, Siri's been a ton of fun and really useful. I particularly love that whoever programed her has a great sense of humor. The other day, Cait asked Killian to have Siri look up something and she came back with some wonky suggestions.

The following conversation ensued.

Then he rephrased the question and got something even wonkier.

Cait: HA! She totally called him on his language. Siri's a better mom than you!

Getting Lucky with Lucy

2011-10-20T07:38:00.000-07:00

I'd like to introduce you all to my friend Lucy Felthouse. In addition to being super adorable, (Seriously, look at her!) she's also an awesome writer, editor and PR powerhouse and an overall wonderful person. Lucy's visiting and giving away one of her single author ebooks - winner's choice! All you need to do to win is to leave a comment and a valid email address. I'll be drawing a winner Tuesday at 7 pm EST.

Here's a little more about the lovely Lucy!

Lucy is a graduate of the University of Derby, where she studied Creative Writing. During her first year, she was dared to write an erotic story - so she did. It went down a storm and she's never looked back. Lucy has had stories published by Cleis Press, Noble Romance, Ravenous Romance, Summerhouse Publishing, Sweetmeats Press and Xcite Books. She is also the editor of Uniform Behaviour and Seducing the Myth. Find out more at at her website. You can also find her on Facebook and Twitter.

How did your writing path evolve?

My path to writing professionally started when I was doing my degree. I went to University to study Creative Writing because I wasn't sure what I wanted to do as a career. When I was there, I was dared to write an erotic story. I did, and enjoyed it. From there, I carried on writing erotica and started submitting it. I had my first piece accepted to Scarlet Magazine and from there, truly caught the bug. I kept writing and submitting, and the rest is history!

What type of research do you do for your books?

It varies. Some stories don't require any research at all. Others only require a small amount, and some much more. Often I don't even know how much will be required until I start writing and suddenly I'll write something that needs fact-checking. So I'll go off and check books if I have any that are relevant, as well as using Google. I also find asking people on Twitter is often very helpful.
From what or where do you derive the most inspiration for your stories?

I honestly couldn't say. Ideas can pop into my head at any time. When I'm working on other things, when I'm in the shower, the car or even eating dinner. The trick is to either remember the ideas or write them down quickly before I forget them!

Tell us about your upcoming releases?

I have a novella coming out on the 24th from Noble Romance, called Love Through Time. It's part of the Timeless Desire range of novellas, and there's a huge blog tour taking place throughout November to promote them. There will be some fab interviews, blog posts and prizes to be won. Check it out! The story itself is a bit of a hybrid – a contemporary paranormal erotic romance with historical elements. It's not as complicated as it sounds, though. It's a romantic tale with the past woven into the narrative. This is one tale where I needed to do quite a bit of research to make sure I had my facts correct.

On the 31st, I have a novella coming out in a book called Immoral Views from UK publisher Sweetmeats Press. It's a voyeurism-themed anthology and contains stories from yours truly and four other amazing authors. My story is written from the male perspective and is about a policeman who makes an interesting discovery which sets off a dangerous obsession that could cost him a great deal. I don't want to say any more than that because it'll give the game away, but let's just say it's an incredibly naughty tale and one I had a great deal of fun writing.
What are you working on at the moment?

I'm working on a novella for one of my publishers. It's for a secret project of theirs that is going to be announced next year. All I can say is that it'll be my longest piece to date and is an erotic romance.
What do you like best about being a writer? What do you like least?

Nothing beats the thrill of seeing your name in print. I love having new releases come out and hearing what people think about them. It's so exciting when people are reading and enjoying what you've written. I also love chatting to other authors and engaging in lots of mutual promotion. It's a great community to be a part of.

As for what I like least – that would probably be the waiting after you've hit that 'send' button.

What would you do if you weren’t a writer?

Well, writing isn't my main job. I actually do PR, Marketing and Web Design for writers and other small businesses, which is what takes up most of my time. So if I'm not writing, that's what I'm doing. You can find out more about what I do here.

What do you enjoy doing when you’re not writing?

I love to read, watch films and my favourite TV shows, spend time with my other half, go out walking in the countryside and exploring country houses and ancient monuments.

Of all of the characters you’ve created, who is your favorite and why?

I have a soft spot for Meg, the vampire character from Bite with Height. She's a total kick-ass chick, wickedly funny and lives an unusual lifestyle... even for a vampire.

Do you find it difficult to keep love/sex scenes fresh and interesting?

Sometimes I get the feeling I'm repeating things, but then I remember that each and every story is different, with different characters and scenarios. But I am always aware of not writing sex scenes which are too typical – and when I think about it, there are many many stories I've written where the characters aren't even in a bed, so I guess I'm not doing too badly! ;)

Do you listen to music when you write or do you need quiet? If you listen to music – what kind?

It varies dependent on my mood. If I'm trying to drown out my noisy neighbours I'll often put music on and wear my headphones to help me focus. Other times, I need perfect quiet. Whatever helps me get the words down on the page, really!

What makes a man sexy?

The main things for me are intelligence and a sense of humour. I'm a sucker for dimples, too ;)

Do you family and friends know you write erotic romance – if so, how have they reacted?

Some do, some don't. I think some probably know but haven't admitted that they know. The people that 'officially' know have all been fine – and most weren't at all surprised.

What’s your favorite food?

I have very simple tastes. My favourite meal is steak and chips.

Do you have any bad habits?

Yes, thank you. Plenty. ;)

If you were stranded on a desert isle, what five things would you want to have with you?

Ooooh, good one! My Kindle (with a magically never-ending power supply), WiFi connection, food and drink supplies, suncream and Jared Padalecki. Thinking about it... if I had Jared, would I really need the Kindle? Hmmm...

Do you have any pet peeves?

Oh, dozens! A few random ones: poor drivers, people that drop litter, the fact that the UK gets Supernatural on its screens so many months behind the US, the fact that the tastiest food is always the food that's bad for you, petrol prices, corrupt politicians... need I go on?

What do you like about where you live?

The fact that it's so close to one of my favourite places – The Peak District. Also the fact that within an hour's drive I can either be at a cinema, at a bookshop, at a stone circle, on a hill, in a country house, etc...

If you could travel back in time, would you? If so, what time period would you visit and why?

Oh yes, definitely. I think I'd probably travel back to the 70s. They had all the best music, the whole 'free love' thing and it always sounds like so much fun!

Here's a blurb from one of Lucy's books.

Weekend at Wilderhope Manor blurb:
When Stephanie and Jenny go to a Murder Mystery Halloween weekend at Wilderhope Manor, they’re expecting fun and games. But following creaky floorboards, spooky noises and an alarming encounter in the Manor’s grounds, the girls begin to wonder if there’s more to Wilderhope Manor than meets the eye. As they find frequent comfort in one another’s arms – and their bed – will the girls discover what’s causing the bumps in the night, or will they run scared?

More info, excerpt and buy links:

This time it's me. :)

2011-10-19T05:17:00.000-07:00

This time it's me being interviewed. And I'm giving away books!

So please come on over to The Forbidden Bookshelf and say hi! I'd really appreciate the company!

Plus, you know - books!

More Sleep May Be Required...

2011-10-18T07:16:00.000-07:00

Okay, so I've been slammed to the wall with trying to finish several books and all of the excitement and drama that comes with putting on a conference. My awesome writing group is putting on its first ever conference and while I'm super excited about it, it is requiring a lot of time.

Cait and my mom are being the very best ones ever and are helping out by picking up the boys whenever possible, giving me an extra two hours in my afternoon that I wouldn't have otherwise had. And Cait, (who will be awarded some sort of medal of valor for this) is going above and beyond the call of duty by dragging her cookies out of bed at ass o'clock in the morning to get my kids and the carpool kid to school several times a week!

I honestly don't know what I'd do without them. I do know that I'd probably be this much closer to a nervous breakdown.

So all of this stuff going on is making me lose major amounts of sleep as evidenced by this text exchange with Killian.

Me: Your mom is picking you up from school today. She'll have the van.

Killian: You are my mom. I assume you mean Grammy.

Me: OMG!!! I need sleep!!!

Killian: ROTFLMAO Yeah. Probably. :P

Oh well...glad I could brighten his day. Back to the WIP and a mountain of email.

Another Awesome Author - Another Wonderful Winner!

2011-10-16T18:59:00.001-07:00

Thanks so much to everyone who read Jessica's interview and entered the contest. You guys absolutely rock!

And this should be no surprise to anyone, but I'm two hours late drawing the winner. But! I have a great excuse. I was frantically writing. I have some nasty deadlines to meet before the end of the year!

But enough whining from me. I'm sure there will be more of that later!

Now, it's time to announce the winner of one of Jessica Jarman's books...

Drum roll, please...

...

...

...

...

and the winner is...

...

...

Vanessa N!

YAY!!!

Jessica will be contacting you in the very near future!

Wanna see some stuff I'm proud of?

2011-10-14T11:30:00.000-07:00

Hey Guys,

I'm over at Read All Over Reviews sharing some of my favorite homemade costumes. And I'm also giving away books! Please stop by and say hi!

Please?

I'm lonely.

Sniffle.

The Wanna-Be Lady of the Manor - Jessica Jarman!

2011-10-12T08:34:00.000-07:00

Hey Everyone!

I'd like to introduce you to another dear friend of mine. We met several years ago when I was working for a different publishing house than I work at now and she subbed a book to me that I loved. We ended up becoming friends and finally got to meet in person for the first time in August. She's just as awesome in real life as she is on the phone and in email. Now, I'd like you all to experience her awesomeness, too! :D

Jess will also be giving away winner's choice of one of her single author e-books. All you need to do to enter is leave a comment and a valid email address. The winner will be chosen Sunday night, 8pm EST.

Now, grab a seat and come meet Jess!

How did your writing path evolve?

I’ve always told stories, always had them in my head. It was actually in high school that I thought I want to be an author. That was it for me, all I ever wanted to be. I filled notebooks, scribbled on scraps of paper. When my kids were little, I became an expert at one-handed typing while cradling a baby. I got pretty awesome at writing in 15-minute increments—you know, between mom-related activities. Now that all the kids are in school all day, it’s much easier to focus on being a full-time writer. And believe it or not, that was a tough transition. A part of me thought I needed to go out and get a “real job”—admittedly some of that mentality came from well-meaning friends and family—but I’m incredibly lucky in the husband I snagged. He’s encouraged me to focus on writing and making this into a career. So that’s where I am now, working on a career.

What type of research do you do for your books?

I love paranormals because I get to make stuff up, though I do a lot of planning and documenting—making sure the worlds I build are consistent throughout the book and/or series.
When I do research, I imagine I do it much like anyone else. I search online, go to the library—basically a lot of reading.

From what or where do you derive the most inspiration for your stories?

The simple answer is everything and everywhere. A conversation can get the gears turning in my head. Playing a game of “what if” in my head or with someone else. A newspaper or magazine article could be the spark. I’ve even had a story idea come from a dream.

Tell us about your upcoming releases?

I have a holiday release coming out soon with Passion in Print Press. Here’s the blurb for On His Naughty List—

Career-driven Lainey Stewart finally has the position she’s worked so hard for, but finds herself alone and feeling empty at Christmastime. Escaping her work’s holiday party, she attempts to forget what—and who—she gave up for her all important job.

When Ty Sinclair finds Lainey in the hotel bar, it takes little effort to seduce her up to his room. After a passionate encounter, Lainey bolts. But one time in an anonymous hotel room isn’t enough for Ty. He isn’t about to let her go without a fight and goes after her, determined to make her his…for good.

Also Secrets & Spells, a new paranormal will be coming out from Resplendence early next year. I’m super excited about this one. It’s set up in the Upper Peninsula of Michigan—one of the most gorgeous, awesome places on Earth. (I’m totally biased as I grew up there, but it’s totally true.) Secrets & Spells has witches, magic, super-hot lovin’, and much more set in the tiny fictional town.:-D

What are you working on at the moment?

Right now, I’m on a paranormal kick. After finishing four contemporaries this year, I’m loving the paranormal right now. I’m working more books set in Parrish—the fictional town mentioned above. I’m having so much fun with it and can’t wait to introduce the town and its residents to readers.

What do you like best about being a writer? What do you like least?

The best—the creating, hands down. The characters, the worlds, building the relationships on the pages, all of it. I adore that part. The part I like least is not being fast enough. I want the story out of my head and on the page now. I get frustrated with the process sometimes, that I can’t get a particular scene written exactly as I have it pictured in my head, and it slows my progress down.

What would you do if you weren’t a writer?

I’m not really sure, to tell you the truth. I have an English degree, and probably would have gone back for my masters, and tried to teach.

What do you enjoy doing when you’re not writing?

Reading, of course. I also enjoy cooking, traveling, spending time with family and friends…and relaxing when I can fit it in.

Of all of the characters you’ve created, who is your favorite and why?

Oh, picking a favorite. That’s a tough, really tough. I’ve answered this question before, and every time, I have a different answer. It’s not always a character from the most recent book either! Right now, in this moment, the first character that popped into my head was Silas…and that boy doesn’t even have his own book yet! Sneaky bugger. I do love him though. He is a secondary character in my Into the Shadows series. The main characters in the series kind of take this young man in. He’s literally grown up in my head. And is growing impatient with me apparently.

Do you find it difficult to keep love/sex scenes fresh and interesting?

Yes. Definitely. But I figure just like in “real life” relationships, keeping things fresh and interesting takes work. But the effort is totally worth it in the end.

What genre of books least appeals to you and why?

Horror. That kind of goes across all media. A horror movie is the last thing you’ll find me watching, and a horror novel isn’t something I’ll pick up if something else is available. I don’t have anything against the genre; it’s just not my cup of tea. I don’t enjoy being scared. LOL

Do you listen to music when you write or do you need quiet? If you listen to music – what kind?

Quiet is a rare and precious commodity in Chez Jarman. If I waited for it to happen, I’d never get anything written. Listening to music is definitely preferable to the bickering or the television blaring or just loud conversations. It also signals the family that I’m writing, not just checking email or playing around on Facebook. If I’m on the computer and the earbuds are in, I’m working.

I prefer instrumental music when I write, because I will get distracted by lyrics. LOL I have a lot of soundtracks/scores from movies, like Pride and Prejudice, Braveheart, Last of the Mohicans, Pirates of the Caribbean, and many more.

What makes a man sexy?
How he treats the person he loves. (A tight butt doesn’t hurt any, but mostly how he treats the one he loves)

Do you family and friends know you write erotic romance – if so, how have they reacted?

I think most of them know. I haven’t had any bad reactions. I think if someone has a problem with it, they’ve been kind enough just to say nothing. And I appreciate that. :-D

What’s your favorite food?

My favorites shift. Right now, I’m loving Indian food—naan, tikka masala, curries. If I had to choose an all-time favorite? Fresh baked bread. A thick slice, still warm with a smear of butter or homemade jam…omg. *drool*

Do you have any bad habits?

Oh yeah. Queen of Procrastination at your service. I let myself get distracted easily by family stuff and things going on around me. I’m working on it.

If you were stranded on a desert isle, what five things would you want to have with you?

The practical answer? Pocket knife, fishing gear, flint, first aid kit, a survival book.

The fun answer? A hot, intelligent man who knows survival—I will not be conversing with a volleyball thank you! And I’m certain I will survive longer cuddli…I mean, sharing body heat with another person during the cold nights. Sturdy rope—there are just so many uses for this. You know, for survival! Still want the fishing gear, flint, and knife—cause we have to eat and make fire, but now I don’t have to do it all by myself. Yay.

Do you have any pet peeves?

Most certainly. Making promises you know you can’t keep. Saying one thing, but acting in a way that indicates the opposite. People who impose on your time, making it clear they don’t value you or your time. Those are the big ones for me. Would those be considered more than pet peeves? (I now feel the urge to look up “pet peeve”.) Okay, a smaller one… When someone says “supposably” instead of “supposedly”. :-D

What do you like about where you live?

I love the Midwest. I will heartily bitch about the snow and cold, make no mistake on that, but I’m happy I’m where I am. I’m near my family and can easily travel to see them. I even enjoy the nature of it all—the fact I can get to a lake and swim with minimal effort, the beauty and variety of the changing seasons. But you don’t think you will ever hear me happily announce I’m going camping; there will always be cursing in those instances. The only thing I don’t enjoy about being here is how far most of my friends are—they’re scattered around the country. :( Not cool.

If you could travel back in time, would you? If so, what time period would you visit and why?

I know how lucky I am to live now. I don’t think I’d actually survive without running water, indoor plumbing and convenience food. However, if I had to, I’d live in the late 1700s, early 1800s—as portrayed in a Jane Austen movie. I’d be the daughter of a gentlemen and my life’s work would be embroidery and finding my Mr. Darcy. He would be a single man of good fortune with, oh, nine, ten thousand pounds a year. It wouldn’t take me long at all, because we all know such a man must be in want of a wife—and I would totally be that wife.

It's a miracle!

2011-10-09T17:28:00.000-07:00

I'm not only at home, but I actually remembered to draw a winner for the Abigail Barnette giveaway!

Yes, I am a little excited. Thanks for asking. ;)

Without further ado, the winner of Bride of the Wolf is...

...

...

okay, there's a little ado

...

...

Darcy!

Jen/Abigail will be emailing you shortly to send you a copy of this freaking awesome book!

Another Weirdass Dream

2011-10-07T03:03:00.000-07:00

Okay, so I have no idea what this means, but I dreamt that I was suddenly, hugely pregnant.

We're talking full on waddle, ready to give birth, can't tie my own shoes pregnant.

I went from normal to ginormous in nothing flat, so of course, everyone was saying things like, "Oh my God! You're pregnant!" or "What the hell?"

I swear, literally everyone I know paraded through my head to comment on my belly all the while I keep pointing at it, screaming, "It's a metaphor!"

In fact, I woke up hollering that it was a metaphor. To which poor Matt mumbled, "Writer." like it was a curse word, rolled over and went back to sleep.

I have no clue what this means.

Thoughts?

Comments?

Apocalyptic prophesies?

Regrets? I have plenty.

2011-10-06T03:50:00.000-07:00

Over at the Writer's Evolution Blog, we've been talking about regrets this week. I've listed off a slew of mine. Come on over and tell me about yours. It can be like group therapy! ;)

Hey! Do you like heroes with physical and emotional scars?

2011-10-05T03:43:00.000-07:00

What a coincidence - me too! You're gonna wanna hear about this.

Abigail Barnette a.k.a Jennifer Armintrout has a new book out today and holy cow is it AWESOME. I got to read an advanced copy, cause, well, I'm super lucky. Let me just tell you, if you love shifters - this is the book for you. If you love historicals - this is also the book for you! There are very few books I have time to re-read anymore. This will definitely be one of them.

Even cooler, you have a chance to win! Abigail/Jen is giving away an e-copy of her new book! All you need to do to enter is leave a comment along with your email address. Easy! Contest ends at 8pm EST on Sunday, the 9th.

Here's the blurb:

Commanded to marry the son of Lord Canis, a powerful ally of her father and King Edward, Aurelia knows she is about to venture into a den of wolves. For the men who live at Blackens Gate are no ordinary men, able to change at will into enormous, bloodthirsty beasts…and as a mere human, Aurelia is a reviled outsider.

When the wolves escorting his brother’s bride to Blackens Gate turn on her, Sir Raf Canis finds himself in the unlikely position of rescuer. After losing his leg—and his place in the pack—Raf refuses to bring himself further shame by failing to deliver the lovely Aureilia. But the innocent maiden proves to be a temptation even he cannot resist.

Within the dark, dangerous forest, a love begins that neither can deny. To protect Aurelia, Raf must betray everything he has come to believe about his life among wolves, and risk death to save the only woman ever to touch his wounded soul.

And here's an excerpt:

It took Aurelia only seconds to assess that there was something dangerous in the way Jeoffrey approached her. The set of his mouth as he smiled, perhaps, or the slow way he came forward. She stayed very still as he came close to the back of the cart, a hand reaching to the knife at his belt.

“They’ve gone deeper to look for game,” he said in a reassuring tone. His hand fell on her shoulder.

She jerked away. “Don’t.”

His expression darkened. “Don’t? You aren’t the lady of the castle yet, apple. And things work a little differently there, don’t they then?”

“I wouldn’t know,” Aurelia admitted, breathing deep. “But if he is a man, my husband would not like you putting your hands on his property.”

“Ah, but that’s the trick of it, isn’t it?” Jeoffrey seized her by her arms. “He isn’t a man, and neither am I.”

His eyes. Jeoffrey’s eyes flashed warning orange, and Aurelia shook her head, backing slowly away. Of course, she’d known what they were. Her father had spoken of the wolf-men with disgust, but grudging respect for their prowess in battle. Yet something of a blindness, unintentional, perhaps, had come over her when she’d contemplated this journey. While her denial had made her feel safe, she now realized the folly of it. She was alone, in the forest, with wolves.

Jeoffrey’s body, made heavier by the mail he wore, pinned her to the hard ground in half a heartbeat. She gasped for air, then gave up and clawed at him, not breathing but making a hoarse, gulping sound as she pushed and slapped to no avail. His knee pressed between her legs, pinning her skirt to the ground, and as she flailed, she heard the fabric tear. One of the woolen mitts she wore on her hands slipped free, and she sank her fingernails into the skin of his cheek, raking down as hard as she could.

With a roar of pain, he reared back, but only for a moment. As she tried to drag herself backward, he struck her across the face with one metal-plated gauntlet, and blood exploded from her lips, matching the three bright red stripes she’d left on his face. But a second was all she had needed to gain her breath, and with it, her voice. She screamed, shrill terror ringing off every tree in the forest.

The rest of the party returned within seconds, even Raf, crippled as he was. It was he who lifted Jeoffrey from her, flinging him with impossible strength into the side of the cart. The knight crumpled with a sigh of collapsing mail, blood spattered across his tabard.

“Get up!” Raf shouted, dragging her to her feet ungently, by one arm. Aurelia’s head reeled, and she struggled to understand this rough treatment. Did he not see her struggle? She thought to plead with him to see reason, that she had not betrayed his brother, her betrothed, but then she saw the reason for the urgency in his tone. On the far side of the narrow road, Margaret Lackey and Sir Clement stood, brandishing spear and sword, their eyes glowing orange.

“You would harm one of your sworn brothers to protect this mewling cat?” Margaret spat in the dirt. “Your father was right to set you aside. You’re nothing but a coward!”

“She belongs to my brother!” Raf pushed Aurelia farther behind him. “He has bested you both in combat time after time, and you’ve never earned the right to his property.”

“She isn’t a proper woman,” Clement explained patiently, as though Raf were a child to be soothed. “She is a lower being.”

“She belongs to my brother,” Raf repeated. “If either of you wish to challenge him for her, you may do so at the wedding feast. But I am charged with her safety.”

“We could challenge you in your brother’s stead,” Margaret threatened. Aurelia peered past Raf, then regretted it. The fierce woman wore a cruel grin. “Clement, Jeoffrey and I. We could easily cut you down, crippled pup, and all three of us share her.”

Clement growled.

Suddenly, the world was upside down, and moving fast. Hanging as limp as a sack over Raf’s shoulder, Aurelia watched as, in a flurry of movement almost too fast to see, Margaret Lackey and Sir Clement shed their clothing and crouched, lean and terrifying, their naked skin rippling in waves of black. Two huge wolves sprang at her, jaws snapping. Another breath and they would be upon her, and Sir Raf, one-legged, limping Sir Raf, could not protect her.

He jostled her on his shoulder, and wind whipped her face as a thick branch snapped backward, knocking back one of the wolves, Clement, if she’d kept things right when the world turned upside down. The wolf Margaret jumped, and Raf whirled, Aurelia flying up and colliding with his back as the wolf yelped. Then, pulling Aurelia over his shoulder to cradle against his broad chest, Sir Raf dropped to the ground and they were sliding, in a cloud of dust and dead leaves, down a steep slope, the end of which disappeared into nothing. Raf did nothing to slow their descent, but held her to his chest tighter with one arm as they flew over the brink. With an arm above his head, he caught a thin ledge of stone from the face of the cliff.

Aurelia did not wish to look down. Far below, the river roiled, white frothing against the dark depths.

“Hold on to me!” Raf shouted over the rushing of the river.

She flung her arms around his neck, even as she begged him not to do what she was certain would come. That they had outrun the wolves was unbelievable; that they could survive the tossing waters was too much to ask.

She squeezed her eyes shut, but she could not ignore the plummeting feeling. It seemed forever before they touched the water’s surface, and then, as the frigid depths enveloped them, not enough time at all. She tried to keep hold of Raf’s neck, then just his cloak, her fingers fumbling on the wet edges of the fur, but the water drove them apart, tore her away in a rapid current that she struggled to climb above. This river ran past her home as but a trickling stream that she had sailed wooden boats on as a child. Now, it offered her no friendly quarter, sweeping her down the banks, farther and farther away from where Raf surfaced, looking about frantically. She gasped for air before the currents pulled down again. Her last glimpse of the world above the water was of the huge, black wolf standing at the cliff’s edge.

An Open Letter to October

2011-10-04T00:34:00.000-07:00

Dear October,

We need to talk.

Normally, we get along really well. There are the changing leaves, sweater weather, hot spiced cider, caramel apples and mulled wine. Usually, we're really tight. What happened?

For instance, yesterday you really sucked. I know it's only the fourth day, but things can't go on like this.

The bladder infection,
the endless allergies,
the hacked email and hacked Zune account,
almost three solid hours on the phone with the bank and Microsoft trying to sort everything out,
the stress of being way far behind on work and conference prep

were all enough to stress me the fuck out. But I persevered.

And then...then I went to pick up a pizza for supper, because well...my day had already been shitty and I wasn't about to compound the horror by attempting to cook. I may be a little slow, but I'm not stupid.

However, I got to the pizza place, claimed my order and realized that I didn't have my debit card. I tore my (huge) purse apart, feeling tears burn my eyes. No card.

I'm mortified to admit that I burst into tears. Not the horrible sobbing kind, but the kind that are still noticeable to sullen teenagers behind the counter. One of the same teens who said, "Are you gonna pay for this, or what?"

I ended up having to call Matt up there to pay for the pizza because the place doesn't take checks and I never have cash. Also? I discovered when we got home that my Italian cheese bread was burned. Not cool.

So yeah...October 3rd? Fuck you. I've had enough of your shit. We're through. Don't bother coming back unless you're gonna apologize. Profusely. I want flowers and chocolate. Dark chocolate truffles.

You'd probably better bring wine, too.

I expect to be wooed.

Sincerely,
Bron

Do you want free stuff?

2011-10-03T14:15:00.000-07:00

Of course, you do!!! Free stuff is AWESOME. All you need to do is go to Brynn Paulin's blog. She's giving away bracelets, pens, thumb cuffs, books and bags!

Go!

Go now!

Get goodies!

Bron is a Fail Whale

2011-10-03T03:44:00.000-07:00

I apologize. I was a total Fail Whale yesterday and completely forgot to pick a winner. I blame the fact that I feel like crap, an all day senior picture shoot for Killian and being distracted by the fact that one of our accounts was hacked and some little asshat bought 10,000 microsoft points on my credit card. Grrrrrrrrrr...

However, today should be a happy day. There's a new winner for the delightful Dakota Rebel's book giveaway!

Congratulations to Susan who won a copy of Dakota's new MM romance, Frienemies!!!

Susan, D should be contacting you shortly to find out what format you'd like. :)

So, I have this friend...

2011-09-30T00:34:00.000-07:00

I was talking to a very dear friend yesterday. I met her at a Tori Amos concert seventeen (HOLY CRAP) years ago through a mutual friend. I love this woman - she's amazing. And hilarious.

Now, it's a wonder that she even wanted to be friends with me after meeting me because I was nine months pregnant with Killian, it was the middle of a miserable, humid August and let's face it, I was the bitchiest bitch who'd ever bitched. I hated being pregnant. And I especially hated being pregnant in the middle of August. I was evil incarnate. And yet, this lovely woman liked me anyway. And I'm grateful, because I adore the hell out of her.

So, anyway, I was talking with her today about my hellish deadlines coming up and menages quickly became the topic of discussion. I have several due before the end of the year and we had the following conversation.

Friend: What I want to know, is are they written the way they happen in real life?

Me: I'm thinking no.

Friend: That's probably for the best. Whenever I was part of one, I felt like that hostess at a dinner party that wasn't going particularly well. Is everyone having a good time? Can I get you anything? Do you need more potatoes? It was exhausting.

Me: It's better in fiction. I have to blog this.

Friend: Do it.

And now, whenever I'm in the midst of writing menage scenes, I'm forever going to think about the beleaguered dinner party hostess. And it becomes very clear to me that I would never find myself in a menage for the same reasons I don't host parties.

Worry, social anxiety and a possible lack of potatoes.

It's Winner Time!

2011-09-29T16:48:00.000-07:00

First off, thank you to the super adorable Sommer Marsden for visiting the blog and offering a giveaway book!

And secondly, a big congrats to our winner, Beverly Diehl! Sommer will be emailing you, shortly. And thanks for visiting the blog!

Dakota Rebel's in the House!

2011-09-28T00:34:00.000-07:00

Or...erm...you know...on the blog.

Since starting my publishing career, I've met a lot of fascinating and awesome people on the interwebz, and Dakota is one of the best. I love this woman. LOVE her!

I'd like to invite you to learn more about Dakota. And if you leave a comment you'll be entered in a contest to win a copy of her new ebook, Frienemies! Please leave your email address - contest closes Sunday night (10/2/11) at 8pm EST.

From what or where do you derive the most inspiration for your stories?

Brian and Justin and Harry and Draco have been HUGE inspirations for me. I like to picture either of those couples when I'm working on a new book. I feel both couples belong together and in my head every story revolves around their hotness.

Tell us about your upcoming releases?

The book I'm most excited for is Vamplet. It's a M/M retelling of Hamlet with vampires. It was so much fun to write and it's getting released in conjunction with several of my friend's (*cough, Bronwyn Green, *cough) retellings of classic Shakespeare works so I'm doubly excited.
I actually have a release coming out every month through the end of the year so that's pretty exciting for me. Mitch is being re-released in October with Resplendence Publishing. I also have a M/F short coming up. It's been a LONG time since I've written a M/F. I was surprised at how difficult it was for me. I kept trying to give the heroine boy parts. Lol. Habits die hard I guess.

What are you working on at the moment?

What aren't I working on, lol? I have many WIPS (work in progress) going at the moment. My favorites are the sequels to Mitch and To Hate and To Hold. But I also have a M/M that takes place in Las Vegas that I've been working on for over a year. Someday I may even finish that one. Maybe.

What would you do if you weren’t a writer?

Oh my God. I don't even want to imagine. Then these voices wouldn't be 'real' and I'd be in some sort of hospital for crazy people. I don't care for pudding enough to live in an institution.

What do you enjoy doing when you’re not writing?

I like to pretend to be a crafter. My mom and I are doing two craft fairs this year and when I'm not writing and/or editing and/or working at the day job, I'm covering things in paper and trying to come up with funny things to say in greeting cards. I love doing it, but it's harder than it looks and sounds. I tend to only have time after 9 pm and to anyone who knows me…that's not my best time. I prefer to be in bed by 9.05 pm when I can help it.

Of all of the characters you’ve created, who is your favorite and why?

For a long time, the answer to this one was a no brainer. I would have spit out Ethan Connor from To Hate and To Hold without even having to pause to consider. But now, well, I'm pretty fond of Elijah from Blood of the Fallen. And Donnie from Frienemies (because he may or may not be based on a fictional character I love and a real boy I adore.) Plus, there will always be a special place in my heart for Diego, my first published vampire from Sweet Dreams. You never forget your first.

Do you find it difficult to keep love/sex scenes fresh and interesting?

Not really. While in my head the boys may always look like one of the before mentioned couples, they always have their own personalities and styles. Every scene between my characters is special to them and special to me. That is enough to keep me on my toes and make sure their experiences are unique to them.

Do you listen to music when you write or do you need quiet? If you listen to music – what kind?

I almost always listen to music. And the style varies immensely. Some books call for classical, some for hard rock and one even seemed to thrive on Christmas music. You never know what the muse will want to hear at any given time so you'd best be prepared to make her happy. If momma ain't happy ain't no one happy.

What makes a man sexy?

I LOVE a funny man. Men who may not be conventionally handsome are insanely more attractive when they have a sense of humor. Preferably a sense of humor that meshes with mine. Inappropriate and quick, that's how I like my men…wait, that's not quite right.

Do you family and friends know you write erotic romance – if so, how have they reacted?

Most of my family knows. Before my dad passed away he told his friends I write westerns. Lol. He was very proud that I was a writer but he couldn't admit what I write. And my mom once asked me "Is this because I read gay porn when I was pregnant with you?" My in-laws have the 'don't ask don't tell' policy which is just fine with me. But for the most part everyone is very supportive and great about it.

What’s your favorite food?

Ice.

Do you have any bad habits?
I still bite my nails on occasion. And I have a severe iron deficiency (and allergy) which leads to me chew ice constantly. Apparently this is terrible for my teeth and I really don't get the correlation between anemia and ice chewing, but I'm told there is one, so there you go.

If you were stranded on a desert isle, what five things would you want to have with you?

Ice. Internet. Laptop. A magic wand. Magical powers to go with the wand. (That's probably cheating but anyone who knows me knows I would never put myself in a position to GET stuck on a desert isle, so I'm assuming I'm a character in one of my books now and can have whatever I want.)

And here's a little bit more about Dakota!

Dakota Rebel lives in Detroit, Michigan with her husband Mr. Rebel and two incorrigible children, Jr. Rebel and Rebel Jr. 2.0.

Her friends are made up of the most amazing people on the planet. They not only accept her faults but often encourage them.

Dakota smokes more than she should, drinks less than she'd like to, and is the life of any party that ends by 9 p.m.

She adores her fans like nobody's business and encourages them all to email her at Dakota.rebel@hotmail.com.

You can find her at her blog, twitter and facebook.

Riding in Cars with Boys - Part Fourteen

2011-09-27T05:15:00.000-07:00

Today on the way to school, we were discussing Halloween and costumes.

Corwin: I need a Russian accent for my costume.

Me: Beg your pardon?

Corwin: My costume needs a Russian accent. The guy is Russian.

Me: You realize they don't come prepackaged, right?

Corwin: Duh, mother. I have to develop one. Why don't we have an accent?

Me: We do. It's called a midwestern accent.

Corwin: Well, I'd rather have an Irish accent or a Scottish one.

Me: You and me both.

Corwin: I wonder what the girls at school would think if I had an accent.

Me: They'd probably love it. Trust me - girls dig accents.

Corwin: Memo to me: must get accent, soon.

Yep...that's the one I have.

Can you help?

2011-09-26T00:34:00.000-07:00

The Barefoot Foodie, a.k.a Brittany Gibbons, is hands down one of my favorite bloggers. I love that she's not afraid to address things like parenting, marriage, mental health and body image with honesty and humor. She never fails to make me think, laugh or cry - sometimes all three at once.

Anyway, this isn't so much about Brittany as it is about her cousin, Colie. Colie and her 11 year old son lost everything they owned in a house fire two days ago. They also lost several of their beloved pets. I'm heartbroken for them.

Please go to Brittany's blog and see if there's anything you can do to help. Spreading the word is greatly appreciated. So often, when there's so much awful shit happening in the world, it often seems like anything little bit of positivity we might have to offer seems pointless in the face of so much pain. But it's not. Each little bit helps. Even if all you can manage is to hold the door for someone at work, please do it. I know this is gonna sound all crunchy-granola-hippie-love-fest but I honestly believe that each positive act builds on the one before it and that kindness and love really do have the potential to change the world.

So please, be kind. Help change the world. And if you can, please help Colie and her son.

And hey, this just occurred to me while I was in the shower - if you donate, there's a book in it for you. Either send me a note to bronwyn@bronwyngreen.com or leave me a comment with your email address, your choice of one of my (single author) ebooks and the format you'd prefer. And no, you don't need to let me know how much - just let me know that you did. :)

It's Time to Meet Sommer Marsden!

2011-09-25T06:05:00.000-07:00

If you haven't met Sommer Marsden already, here's your chance! I have to tell you, this woman amazes me. She's super sweet, funny as hell and quirky-quirky-quirky. I know what you're thinking - she's my kind of person. She's also a wonderful, not to mention crazy-prolific, writer. And she's also giving away an ebook (winner's choice) to one lucky commenter, so just sit back get to know Sommer and leave a comment with your email address. The winner will be chosen by random Thursday, September 29th after 7 pm EST.

And now, the interview!

How did your writing path evolve?

I’m not even sure I have a path. More like a series of dark alleyways. But I’ve always wanted to write. And I did in grade school in a GT program and then I didn’t. And then I did in college and then I stopped. And then I did it ‘for real’ after girl child was born. And then I stopped! (do you see a pattern?). I was homeschooling the kiddos at the time. And then in 2005 I said screw it, I’m doing it for real and I’ve been writing every day ever since. See, more like a drunken maze than a path.
What type of research do you do for your books?

As little as possible. I loathe it (barring some really fun stuff like zombies). The reason being, I am usually more interested in telling the story of the characters than schooling the reader in another topic. I try to put in enough for it all to be plausible but not focus on the stuff that isn’t character driven.
From what or where do you derive the most inspiration for your stories?

If I ever find out I’ll tell you! Some things that have sparked entire books are: songs, song titles, random phrases, eavesdropping, people watching, the man...the man...the man (he’s a good muse), and the every wonderful ‘what-if?’

Tell us about your upcoming releases?

Ooooh. Big Bad is out October 14th. It’s the story of a Werewolf/Human/Vamp love triangle that involves reincarnation, bad guys, falling in love at first sight for the second time with the same person and a Scottish secondary character who is begging for his own book. After that is Long Lost the sequel to Big Bad and on my 40th birthday, December 1st!, my collection The Best of Sommer Marsden is out in the UK (US to follow). There’s more, but we’ll stick with all that shiny goodness! :)
What are you working on at the moment?

A book by a me who is not Sommer, a bunch of short stories for various editors and the first tickling of my next book as Sommer. Which is untitled but starting to whisper in my ear.
What do you like best about being a writer? What do you like least?

I like everything about being a writer for the most part. My least favorite of the lot is usually rewrites (which I don’t have to do often, thank goodness) and sometimes promoting myself. I’m not really a me-me-me! person and the need to put yourself out there is very real. So I do it. My goal, most days, is to do it in a way that I’m more chatting/interacting with folks than just banging my LOOK AT ME! drum.
What would you do if you weren’t a writer?

I have no clue. It’s been so long. However, I was very good at my old job. I was the Admin Assistant for 13 counselors at a medical rehab company. I was a paperwork Nazi. If you did it wrong, no soup for you! I also, on the days I get discouraged and/or irrationally irritated and threaten to quit writing, entertain fantasies of being a dog groomer at the local dog salon. Don’t ask me why. I’m not the world’s most patient person so I’d probably get mauled on day one.
What do you enjoy doing when you’re not writing?

I like se—oh, that’s not what you mean. I like to cook and bake and hang out on the sofa with the man (I’m a wild child, I tell ya). Of course, I love to read, and I do sew and craft (not as much as I used to). I run [insert hysterical laughter here. I shuffle with intent], walk, ride my bike to nowhere (exercise bike) and I sit around the fire pit with my family and force them to talk to me. I’m also addicted to reality TV.
Of all of the characters you’ve created, who is your favorite and why?

I have to say, as it stands right now, Ellis and Ruby from Big Bad. Why? Their dynamic together. I literally missed those characters when I was done writing them.

Do you find it difficult to keep love/sex scenes fresh and interesting?

Nope. I think it’s always interesting if you stay in your characters. Every person is different, so every character is different, so all sex should be different. Ya know?
What genre of books least appeals to you and why?

Westerns! (I don’t know why. I’ve just never been a fan of books or movies). Used to be Urban Fantasy/SciFi but writers like Stacia Kane Stacey Jay have made me more open to that genre.

Do you listen to music when you write or do you need quiet? If you listen to music – what kind?

Neither. I can’t do music because I get distracted by singing along (I’m one of those people who remembers 99% of the lyrics she’s ever heard) and quiet makes my mind wander. I write to the TV in the background. I might not focus on it or even know what’s on for hours, but it’s background chatter for yours truly to concentrate against, which makes me focus on my book/story.

What makes a man sexy?

His sense of humor. And his forearms.

Do you family and friends know you write erotic romance – if so, how have they reacted?

Yes and yes. Most have been great. A few have been shocked. But for the most part they just get irritated that I won’t let them read my work. Most of them know what I do but not who I am. Heh. Evil me.

What’s your favorite food?

French fries! Next question!

Do you have any bad habits?

The real question should be do I have any good habits. I do tend to hit Etsy.com late at night with a glass of wine and go through a streak of “ooooh, let’s put that in the cart.” And said wine. Beyond that, I’m fairly good. (Would you like to buy a bridge?)

If you were stranded on a desert isle, what five things would you want to have with you?

A cell phone, a lap top, a portable hot spot, a freight box full of wine and well, a boat, to get off the damn isle. :D

Do you have any pet peeves?

People who mumble, writers who rip apart other writer’s work (in my humble opinion you’d better have pristine and infallible writing to do this), people who shove their ideas down my throat, the believe that love at first sight is somehow laughable and the word ‘belch’.

What do you like about where you live?

We are a town known for characters. They’re good fodder for a writer.

If you could travel back in time, would you? If so, what time period would you visit and why?

God no. I have enough trouble not effing up the present. I have no urge to go mess stuff up that’s already happened.

You can also find Sommer on her Blog, Twitter and Facebook. Go do it! She's awesome!

The Real Me?

2011-09-22T06:48:00.000-07:00

That's been the topic over Writer's Evolution this week. Today is my turn to talk about the real me. So please stop over and say hi!

DERP!!!

2011-09-20T05:52:00.001-07:00

Sigh...I don't know where my head is. The winner of Elise Hepner's new book was chosen on Sunday as planned.

And then I forgot to post it.

Sigh...

But, the winner is:

Dawn! (daydrmzzz)

Congrats!!! :D

Texts from Cait - Part Six

2011-09-16T06:29:00.000-07:00

This is how I know my sister has been playing too much Candyland. Yeah, I said Candyland. She watches our niece and nephew on a regular basis and she also works at a childcare center at a gym.

This is apparently Cait on Candyland.

Getting to Know Elise Hepner

2011-09-14T00:34:00.000-07:00

I know it's been interview central around here lately, but hey! There are fun new authors to meet and books to win! Today, we've got Elise Hepner and she'll be giving away a copy of her new book, Roped Emotions. All you need to do for a chance to win is leave a comment for Elise and your email address - easy peasy! I'll draw a winner Sunday evening.

Now, on to the interview...

What type of research do you do for your books?

Normally, I start by heading to my local bookstore in the mall and look up the sexual positions books in “Health and Wellness” section for inspiration for my sex scenes, since they most often come to me first before anything else in the book. From there, depending on what time period my story takes place, I use my Google-fu to check out images of the time period including houses, clothes, and any other relevant details.

But my favorite kind of research still comes from books in the library where I have to cross reference the back appendixes and fit all my information together like a piece of a puzzle. I don’t get to do very often because I don’t write many historicals, but I did get to do it with a steampunk work in progress and it was so much fun!

I habitually research—as a hobby. My husband loves it because he can use me to find any information he’s too lazy to find himself.
Tell us about your upcoming releases?

My new release is with Ellora’s Cave and it’s titled Roped Emotions. It’s a bondage fairytale novella based on the story of Rapunzel. Here’s the blurb:

Rapunzel is trapped by the harsh, inescapable reality of her prison, so she builds vivid sexual fantasies where she has full control and no one can take it away. If nothing else, at least she has command over her thoughts.

When Prince Samuel climbs into her tower it’s a small, satisfying excuse to break the rules—until his gentle touch coaxes her trust. But it’s not enough. No longer can she keep her dark, sexual secrets inside. Rapunzel yearns for rough, passionate sex—a way to unlock her sensual freedom for good.

Vulnerable but unable to turn back, Rapunzel leads Prince Samuel on an intimate journey to define their sexual limits, while twisting their definitions of control forever.

What are you working on at the moment?

Currently I’m working on edits for an erotica novel with EC entitled Not So Pure. It’s a modern day re-telling of Snow White with drugs, sex, and a Spike from Buffy the Vampire Slayer look-a-like.

What do you like best about being a writer? What do you like least?

I love that I can make my own hours and entertain myself throughout the day without ever leaving a chair. And the rush of getting an acceptance letter is an indescribable feeling that sort of becomes an addiction after a while.

I don’t like the waiting or my editing process. But those are two things that won’t ever change, haha.
What would you do if you weren’t a writer?

I would like to think that I could pick up a job at an e-pub somewhere since before I started writing professionally I worked for two small presses as an intern and acquisitions editor. Hopefully a job where I would be able to stay in publishing.

What do you enjoy doing when you’re not writing?

There is nothing I adore more than watching junk TV like Real Housewives shows, Vampire Dairies, and Teen Mom. I thrive off of TV because it makes my brain shut off and I need that working 12-14 hour days every day with not many weekends off. I also love any Sims game and—well, duh, of course I read!

What genre of books least appeals to you and why?

I’m really not a high fantasy or sci-fi kind of girl. I do read them, but it takes a lot to not make me stop in the middle and put the book away. Although there are exceptions to this rule because I’m really liking a lot of steampunk right now which could be categorized as an off-shoot of sci-fi. Also big on The Game of Thrones books by George R.R. Martin—just hoping that they will get happy—and soon.

What makes a man sexy?

Complete and utter cockiness and an ability to banter smartly and verbally play with a woman.

Do you family and friends know you write erotic romance – if so, how have they reacted?

My grandfather apparently reads my work. That was a conversation I wish I could have dodged.

What’s your favorite food?

Mac and Cheese and Olive Garden Breadsticks.
Do you have any bad habits?

I’m a really bad procrastinator only because I have way too much going through my head at any given time that I’m bound to push something off to the side just so I can breathe.

If you were stranded on a desert isle, what five things would you want to have with you?

My Nook, my husband, my two cats, Ian Somherholden, and paper.

If you could travel back in time, would you? If so, what time period would you visit and why?

Oh I would totally take that chance and travel back to the premiere of Gone with the Wind to seduce Clark Gable.

Where can readers find you?

Facebook

Twitter

Web

How about an excerpt of your new book?

“What in Christ’s name…”

I must be hearing echoes from the town nearby, where Mother sells her herbs and braided goods. No one ventures this far toward my tower because Mother’s gone to great lengths to see that they don’t—bear traps are her new favorite method of discouragement. Once one life is claimed, I imagine word spreads fairly quickly to stay away from the area. Why then are there hoof beats that make my head pulse with a slight pain?

There’s no understandable excuse I can delude myself with any longer. Before I can focus on the consequences, I swing my head out the window into the oppressive, humid summer air. Just the very top of his head is visible, his hair brushing past his cheekbones, glowing from the sunshine and shot through with gold. Never have I seen a color so close to my own before—not that I see many people.

For a few moments I can’t quite come to terms with his presence and it’s not for a lack of staring that my pulse inevitably echoes inside my head like an overbeaten drum. This is my chance. Mother won’t be back for quite some time with her wares. He’s circling the tower, slouched over a horse who looks a bit like a nag. Certainly not a proper horse for a man with such fine clothes in gorgeous colors and sumptuous fabrics.

There’s no going back from this moment. It’s a certainty that makes my teeth chatter in a wash of cold fear, despite the heat, and my hands clasp around my middle as I try to hold myself together. He hasn’t looked up yet, more intent on studying the free-standing structure than noticing my shadow plastered across the grass. My mind is desperately working out what I’ll cry out to him. Even as my throat closes with an infusion of happiness that makes me rock on my feet.

“Excuse me?” A tentative question I’m not sure he will hear because it can’t be any louder than a frightened whisper. “Sir, you’re really not supposed to be here.”

Somehow, I’ve managed to make this part louder because he glances up—and his slack-jawed expression is a blow to my chest. He possesses the most gorgeous cobalt blue eyes. Underneath my ribs, the pain grows until taking a full breath is hard. Mother is right, he hasn’t even overcome his shock as my heavy plait of hair rests down the stone side of my prison. He’s not to be trusted.

What am I thinking? He won’t even come near me to aid my escape and his eyes are swamped in confusion—and there’s a flash of unreadable emotion that I refuse to question. He must leave here now and I must somehow convince him to bring no one back with him. I won’t be paraded around for anyone’s amusement. This man has made a mistake coming here.

Yet, there’s still a part of me that grips the windowsill until my palms are numb and that clings to the hope that he will at least acknowledge me. So long since I’ve had any kind of normal conversation. One that didn’t revolve around my hair, my rules or my mother’s day. Won’t he say anything? I’m as trapped by his thick silence as I am by the beauty of his face.

“Please, you must go and tell no one about what you’ve seen. You shouldn’t have ignored the traps. They are there for a reason.”

I don’t know how I’ve gotten that all out because my main focus lies on the foreign stirrings of heat in my cheeks as the pulsing sensation twists lower in my abdomen. What is happening to me? With a certainty that surprises me, I find myself clenching my thighs together, only to have the subtle touch of flesh-on-flesh be more than I can bear. He has yet to take his gaze from mine and a shudder slips up my spine.

“How long have you been here?” His voice carries the strain I hold back and I’m slightly put at ease that at least we are on similar ground. “Who did this to you?”

“For a man who is about to leave, I don’t believe it matters.”

The words barely tumble out of my mouth before I clamp my hand over my lips. I hadn’t meant to be so harsh and instantly regret it. He is so handsome—and these sudden urges, they are overwhelming and confusing to the point where I wish to completely remove the problem. My lips part in an apology and I watch a jovial grin span from ear to ear as he laughs at me until I can’t hear anything but the frantic beat of my heart.

Who is this man? Now he stares at me with a playfulness that washes a wave of goose bumps across my flesh. He doesn’t seem offended, merely amused at my suggestion that he leave. To further that fact, he quickly dismounts and ties his horse to a nearby tree branch. While I can only stare at the way his tight riding boots and breeches hug his muscular body from his calves all the way up to his perfectly rounded buttocks.

Though I’d learned of desire from my mother—and all its wicked principles—I never expected it to rear its head in my lonely, simple world.

However, now my life spirals out of control quickly enough that I tilt back against the wall to my left and watch with trembling hands. This mysterious man climbs the wall of my tower as if it had been built to be climbed so easily—without any aid from my hair. One strong, sun-kissed hand and booted foot at a time. When he offers up his hand to me to pull him over the side, what choice do I have? Even a man that strong would eventually grow tired and plummet to his death—and I want him tucked close to my body, not on the ground.

“I was beginning to wonder what it took to get some assistance.”

He softly grunts and clasps my hand hard enough that I gasp as I shift my weight to pull him over the side. Muscles I didn’t know existed inside me burn with sharp pain from disuse because of my isolation. His touch radiates heat all along my arm. If it wasn’t for his precarious situation, I would fight to pull away on instinct—but as it is, he manages to throw himself into my home with as much grace as a charging boar—and he trips, falling on top of me and sending us to the hard, stone floor.

His surprisingly soft hand brushes the hair out of my face and lingers, gently stroking, down my cheek. Should I be frightened? Probably. At the moment I can’t bear the thought that my first sincerely gentle touch from a man would be anything but special. His sharp leather scent surrounds my tingling skin.

“Isn’t this a day for surprises?” His gaze cuts through all the fear inside me and his mouth holds the subtle curve of a half smile. “I should move myself off you, this isn’t proper at all when we’ve barely been introduced.”

Yet he doesn’t move an inch.

A realization whips through my mind and would have left me on the floor if I wasn’t already pinned there by a gorgeous man who touches me with such reverence I might weep. When will this happen again? After this twisted, meandering path of fate, there is no doubt I will be alone again—and I want a loving memory to cling to at night when my old fears tighten my chest until I can’t breathe. This is a choice I can make for myself. And I won’t live the rest of my ordinary, sheltered life not knowing true passion when it burns across my skin.

“They call me Rapunzel.”

“Samuel.”

His inviting smile lights up my whole world.

And we have another winner!

2011-09-12T18:41:00.000-07:00

I just completed the drawing for R.A. Evans' Asylum Lake, 2 hours and forty-two minutes late because I was on homework patrol. I will be so damn glad when this bug project is over.

Anyway, we have a winner...

and that winner is...

Tess Grant!!!

YAY, Tess!!!!

Pirate, Gypsy...Caitlin

2011-09-11T00:34:00.000-07:00

Today is Cait's birthday. She's twenty-six, this year. For those of you keeping track at home, that's eighteen years between us. Our mom calls us her bookends. I'm the oldest, Cait's the youngest and there's nothing but boys between us.

I was so freaking excited when she was born. After three brothers and two step-brothers, I was dying for a sister. Not that I don't adore all of my brothers - I do. I really have some awesome ones. But, I still always wanted a sister.

It's probably a good thing there are eighteen years between us. This way we end up being not only sisters but the best of friends. If we were any closer in age, we probably would have killed each other.

She's one of the most amazing people I know, and I'm surrounded by them on all sides. Brilliant, a stickler for historical and grammatical accuracy, hysterically funny, kind (though she'd probably argue that) a natural with kids and a fantastic writer with a voice like a booze-soaked angel. This girl can sing. She's got a big, gorgeous voice that carries for miles. Also, she spontaneously breaks into song. I love that.

These words don't even begin to do her justice. I wish I could somehow share a little Cait with everyone. I think the world would be a better place. I know mine is far better because of her.

I love you, Didder! Happy Birthday to my girlie! You are the best!

Crud!

2011-09-10T20:36:00.000-07:00

Soooooo, I was supposed to pick a winner for Anna Mayle's contest yesterday at 7pm...but I kinda got distracted by Italian food, cake and ice cream, a Rockband sing-a-long, and my family. We had Killian's birthday party last night, and I totally flaked.

I'm so sorry.

However, without any further ado

or excuses...

I give you the winner.

Bookwyrm369...you just won your very own copy of Lullaby for a Stolen Child!!! Congrats!!!

I'll pass your info on to Anna, and you should hear from her soon!

How the hell did that happen?!

2011-09-09T03:04:00.001-07:00

I honestly don't know how it's possible, but Killian is 17 today. Happy Birthday, baby.

8th Grade Science, I Hate You Already

2011-09-08T00:34:00.000-07:00

Tuesday was the first day of school. Not only was it the first day of school, it was also the day that the first big project of the year was handed out.

The Bug Project of Doom (Okay, I added the "of doom" part, but the bugs, that's all the science teacher, who's clearly a fucking sadist. But more on that in a bit.)

So for two hours today, I helped Corwin catch bugs (read: squealed and pointed) and so did Killian and Brynn's oldest son. They were awesome. Well, except for the part where they scared the hell out of me with this HUGE ASS SPIDER. And they discovered for themselves what kind of freak I am. I'm pretty sure the neighbors thought I was being murdered. The boys felt bad and hugged me. Apparently, they've never heard me make that noise before.

This is the evil spider... It's in a sandwich container and it's spider-y butt is about the size of a nickel. Too damn big in my opinion. Two words. Satan's Snowflake.

But I digress. So the boys collected other bugs and sealed them in their tupperware containers. Luckily, they found seven of the ten required. The spider was a bonus. An evil bonus.

Before I tell you this next part, you need to understand something about Corwin. He's really softhearted. When he was little, he wouldn't step on ants like his classmates, he'd protect them and try to build elaborate houses for them out of leaves and sticks. He's got the biggest heart of anyone I know. He loves animals and can't stand to see anything or anyone mistreated. Today, I learned that that love extends to bugs, too.

Part of this damn assignment is to kill the bugs so they can be mounted on a board and displayed for a grade. The methods are freezing and a cotton ball soaked with nail polish remover. Well, I don't wear nail polish, so there's no remover in this house. So freezing it would have to be.

I knew there would be a problem when he said to me from the backseat, "This grasshopper looks like he's thinking 'I get to go home after this, right?'" The commentary about the grasshopper continued off and on on the way home and by the time he had to put the bugs in the freezer, he was really upset about having to "murder them."

I was torn between telling him we'd just deal with the bad grade and he didn't have to do it and worrying that that would could turn into a habit of avoiding difficult tasks because he doesn't want to do them. By the time we made it home, most of the bugs were dead because of lack of oxygen. But not that grasshopper. No...of course not. He had to put it in the freezer.

We both realize that the coming autumn would have killed these bugs anyway. But that's different than being the one to do it. I get that 95% of 8th graders could care less about freezing a grasshopper to death. But then there are the 5% who want nothing to do with taking a life. Should they be made to? Did I fail him as a parent for not speaking up in time and saying, "Fuck the project."

I think I might have.

All I know is that I have a sad kid who's racked with guilt and keeps looking balefully at the freezer.

Introducing R.A. Evans and a Book Giveaway!

2011-09-07T00:34:00.000-07:00

I'd like to introduce you all to R.A. Evans. He'll be speaking at the Grand Rapids Region Writers Group Conference with me in October. If you're interested in attending, we'd be more than happy to have you!

But let's get back to my guest. He's going to be giving away a copy of his book Asylum Lake - either print or e-book - winner's choice. All you need to do to enter is leave a comment. So what are you waiting for? The contest starts today and a winner will be chosen at 7 pm, September 12th.

BIO

R. A. Evans writes. By day he pours his creative energy into meeting the varied needs of his clients. By night, he writes for pleasure. It’s what he does. It’s who he is. If you like your humor dark, your blood-letting messy, and the creepiness factor cranked to eleven, he’s the author for you. His debut novel, Asylum Lake, hit the shelves to rave reviews and its sequel Grave Undertakings will be unearthed in Summer 2011.

A graduate of Grand Valley State University, Evans started his career at a small town newspaper, and has spent the past fifteen years working in marketing and public relations.

How did your writing path evolve?

I always suspected I had a story to tell but it took me some time to find my voice as a writer – not to mention the time to crank it out. After years of thinking about it I finally took the plunge and realized very quickly that the thought of writing was more difficult than the actual act. The words just came spilling out.

How would you describe your writing style?

I am all about organized chaos! For my novel Asylum Lake I started with 53 note cards – one for each of the chapters I envisioned for the story. On each card I wrote the chapter title. I recall shuffling through and reading those chapter titles and feeling like all I had to do was simply fill in the details. I didn’t write the story in order – which was actually helpful because the plot unfolds over the span of 60 years and in a very non-linear way. I used a similar approach for my new novel Grave Undertakings.

What type of research do you do for your books?

Probably more than what is necessary! For Asylum Lake I did a fair amount of research into the history of the mental health system in Michigan – everything from the architectural standards for the hospitals to the various treatment methods. The research didn’t stop there, however. I had to know what side arms and vehicles law enforcement were used by law enforcement in the 1950’s and 1970’s; I wanted to make sure all of the small details made sense so the large details would make sense. The last thing you want as an author is to let something bring the reader out of that temporary suspension of disbelief.

From what or where do you derive the most inspiration for your stories?

I want to believe that the things that go bump in the night are real...and they only way to keep them away is to write about them.

Grave Undertakings, the sequel to your debut novel Asylum Lake, is about to be released. Can you tell us a little bit about the series?

Asylum Lake is a good old-fashioned horror novel — accessible, creepy and eminently readable. It tells of a writer, Brady Tanner, returning to his hometown of Bedlam Falls, Michigan. Brady’s recovering from the loss of his wife and is trying to pick up the pieces of his life. Well, he’s come to the wrong place!

Bedlam Falls is a town that’s witnessed some terrible events over the years. And over it all looms the specter of the shuttered asylum. Readers learn more about the gruesome incidents that have beset the town by way of flashback — related through three generations of the Tanner family, all of who have been consumed, in one way or another, by the town’s sinister secrets. As the story unfolds readers learn why the asylum and its denizens continue to cast a shadow over the town. And why Brady Tanner is now being targeted by a sinister supernatural force.

With Grave Undertakings readers follow Brady as he searches for the elusive Dr. Wesley Clovis. As the one-time hospital superintendent’s dark past comes to light, Brady finds even more shadowy connections between the troubled small town, the abandoned asylum, and his own family.

The veil of death will be parted; answers will be found and souls will be lost.

What are you working on at the moment?

My current project is FLIGHT and it’s my own personal take on the popular zombie scenario. U.S. Air Marshal Liz Downie thought she had lucked out with her assignment – a half-empty red eye from London to the states. The passengers – an odd assortment of State Department staffers freshly plucked from the embattled U.S. Embassy in Iraq. These aren’t your usual friendly skies, however. Tucked into the passenger jet’s shadowy cargo hold hides a secret the U.S. Military will do anything to protect – and Liz Downie everything to stop. Where do you run when you’re 30,000 feet in the air?

What would you do if you weren’t a writer?

My day job is as a marketing/public relations consultant. I help businesses both large and small with branding and messaging. It lets me flex my creative muscles in a completely different way and has been extremely helpful as I build my own author platform and promote my books.

What do you enjoy doing when you’re not writing?

I have three young kids so my interests are basically whatever they are interested in. When I
have the time I love to read and play video games.

Of all of the characters you’ve created, who is your favorite and why?

Why not just ask me which of my children I love best! There is a lot of me in the character of Brady Tanner – but he’s the younger and cooler version of me from ten years ago. He’s been fun to write because he’s real. He thinks and acts like I do – his world view is the same.

Do you have any writing rituals? Like times of the day, food quirks, etc?

Mountain Dew and Funyons are required! Other than that I am an equal opportunity writer. Just give me a place to plug in my laptop and I’m good.

Do you listen to music when you write or do you need quiet? If you listen to music – what kind?

Music is huge for me; I need the background noise. Pearl Jam is a must for me. Every writing session has to have some PJ! Beyond that, I’ll create specific playlists based on the mood of what I’m writing. It’s probably just not the playlists you would imagine. In fact, the bloodiest scene from my novel Asylum Lake was written while listening to Neil Diamond’s Sweet Caroline.
If you could give an aspiring author one piece of advice, what would it be?

Much like any activity practice makes perfect. I’m a much better writer after completing my second novel than I was when I started my first. That being said, a lot of what I write is complete rubbish. But every so often I’ll find that groove and bust our 3-5,000 words of pure gold. You just have to stick with it.

Where can readers find you? (website, blog, twitter, facebook)

The best place to find me is on my blog at www.raevanswrites.wordpress.com. You’ll have complete access to my random musings, book reviews, and my own author interview series 7 Deadly Questions. You can also follow me on twitter at www.twitter.com/raevanswrites. Finally, on facebook at www.facebook.com/asylumlake.

Bittersweet

2011-09-06T03:04:00.000-07:00

Today is the first day of school for the 2011 - 2012 school year. I know most parents are overjoyed about their kids going back to school. I'm not one of them. All for purely selfish reasons.

Some are obvious. I like sleep. I don't like getting up two and a half hours earlier than normal so I can get them to school on time. I really don't like spending three and a half to four hours a day in the car driving them and their friends back and forth because damn, it cuts way too much time out of my work day.

Yeah, I know I made that decision when I decided to send them out of district so they could get an actual education as opposed to experience the crowd control method of teaching our local schools offer. And I don't regret it, but it is exhausting. Also, I genuinely like spending time with them. They're hilarious and genuinely sweet kids.

Other reasons I'm not crazy about the start of this school year is because it feels like the beginning of the end. Killian is starting his senior year and will be seventeen in three days. Corwin is starting eighth grade - his last year before high school begins for him. They're not babies anymore. Of course, they'll always be my babies, but I don't imagine I'll be rocking them to sleep anytime soon, or having them sit on my lap while I read them stories or just for a cuddle. I love the young men they're growing into, but I miss those days more than I can tell you.

And here's the thing. I'm lucky. I'm so damn lucky. I have my boys. So many people have lost their children to illness, accident or catastrophe. I get to see what comes next. I don't have to wonder what might have been.

Job-wise, this fall is going to be a little crazy-pants, but I'm going to try to be as present and in the moment as I can, because really, this - this life with these kids - is the most important thing I'll ever do.

So, I hope you'll forgive me. I've got a little something something in my eye.

New Contest - Anna Mayle's Lullaby for a Stolen Child

2011-09-05T00:34:00.000-07:00

You might remember, almost a year ago, when I raved over Anna Mayle's book, Bedtime Story for a Stolen Child. Well, Lullaby for a Stolen Child, the second book in the series, is out!

Get ready for another heart wrenching story involving the cruel fae, the human that falls into their clutches and the changling who changes everything. And this is your change to win your very own copy!

All you need to do to enter is leave a comment between now and and Friday, September 9th at 7pm. So, so easy!

Check out the blurb and cover art!

Blurb:

Stolen Child Series, Book Two

They steal them away as children, drawn to their short but vibrant lives. They use them as dolls, slaves, entertainment of every kind, tasting the fierce brevity of human life through their captives. But there are times when a taste is not enough.

Where is the boundary between hate and love, love and lust, love and hate? Where do you draw the line between jealousy and longing? Is the passion of a killer the same as that of a lover?

And how can a human man hope to understand the ways of the two Fae who have turned his captivity upside down?

Randomness and Books to Win

2011-09-02T12:03:00.000-07:00

No - I'm not playing hide and go seek. Hell, I don't have that kind of free time. Of course, if I did, I'd hide somewhere and fall asleep. I got next to no sleep last night. Too many things racing through my head.

If you've stayed with this stream of consciousness ramble this long, you might be interested in posts where I'm marginally more coherent. Oh! And there's a chance to win some books. All you need to do is go visit the amazing JoJo's Bookcorner Blog and leave a comment. And I've also got a bizarre little short story/writing challenge involving a cowboy, a bag of licorice and a game show (Blame Brynn) over at Writer's Evolution.

Oh, and I had a lovely review for Guardian's Challenge over at Nocturne Romance Reads! It got a 4.5 and the reviewer said:

Guardians Challenge has renewed my faith in Erotica. Lately, so many novels that have staked claim to being erotica have fallen short and settled nicely into the romantica category, but not this one! This book has it all….hot and steamy sex scenes, beautiful storyline, and strong tempestuous characters.

Now that I have experiences Ms. Green’s writing style, I’ll be sure to pick up her first book in the series Overlord’s Chosen and add her on my favourite authors list and pick up more of her tantalizing tales!

I suck. Let me tell you why.

2011-08-31T10:41:00.000-07:00

First and foremost, I suck because I keep forgetting to mention important things like release dates. Mostly, because life is crazy and I'm just trying to keep my head above water. But this is what I've been up to lately.

But anyhow, I've have a couple of new releases lately. The first is a short story called Maiden's Grail. It's part of the awesome anthology, called Seducing the Myth, edited by the amazing Lucy Felthouse. Seriously - I adore this woman. And bonus! The book is filled with scads of other fabulous stories!

Here's a bit about the antho:

Seducing the Myth: Myths and Legends with an Erotic Twist is a collection of 24 tantalising tales that lead you on a decadent journey through mythologies the world over. As well as stories from the popular Greek and Roman periods, this anthology will also delight you with Arabian, Arthurian, Hindu, Jewish, Norse, Slavic, Sumerian and Welsh myths and legends. Add in a delicious sprinkling of fairies, mermaids and ancient fertility rituals and you have a recipe for a wickedly erotic read!

And today, I have another short story out. It's a retelling of the Persephone/Hades myth - one of my faves! It's called Does Your Mother Know? and it's available at Resplendence Publishing.

Here's the blurb:

Lured from the overprotective, controlling grasp of her mother, Persephone journeys to the Underworld to meet Hades—the sinister man who’s invaded her dreams. Dark and dangerous, he brings to life desires she didn’t know existed. But in satisfying the cravings of her flesh will she lose her soul?

The Day I Ruined Bill’s Life

2011-08-29T13:28:00.000-07:00

Do you ever feel like you should come with a warning label?

I do. A lot.

This is one of those times.

When I’m doing research, I’d rather talk to people in the field as opposed to reading about it. I always end up with some oddball question that can’t be answered by a book or website. I also like hands on research. This is how I ended up taking a ten week citizens’ police academy course. Yes. It was just as hilariously awkward as you’d think it would be. But, it was totally worth it in terms of research material as well as meeting people I genuinely like and respect.

My other favorite research method is cold calling. This is when I try to repress the fact that I’m actually very shy, suck it up and start making phone calls to people in the field that I’m writing about. I usually end up having to explain myself to at least one or two of the office staff before being allowed to leave a vaguely awkward sounding voicemail message where I hope against hope that my subject calls me back.

I’d like to tell you about Bill. He called me back. He’s probably regretting it with every fiber of his being at the moment, but more on that later.

Many of you know that I set my werebear shifter story in Michigan’s Upper Peninsula. Why, you might wonder? Well, I wanted someplace that black bears would be relatively common. I wanted an area I knew well-ish. And hey, honestly? I just really like that area.

So anyway, I called the Baraga DNR (Department of Natural Resources) office since that was the town in which I’d decided to set my story. The very nice secretary passed me along to Bill’s voicemail and a while later he called me back. I explained that I was an author and that I’d like some information about bears. He kindly obliged, told me some awesome stories about bears, Michigan’s bat population and how DNR officers jump out of helicopters to tag moose.

He asked a little more about me and my books, and I explained the erotic romance genre and the popularity of ménage as well as shape shifter stories. He was clearly baffled, but a good sport about it. I asked him if I could cite him on the acknowledgment page, and he kindly agreed. Now, when I cite a source, I always do a full citation. So if it’s one of my cop buddies, I spell out their name, rank and department. I did the same thing with Bill.

Just Right released with the rest of the books in the Not Quite Wicked series and went on to do quite well. I wrote the next book in the series and went off that summer to vacation in the Upper Peninsula. While I was there, I got to meet Bill. He’s just as awesome in person as he is on the phone. He’s funny, knowledgeable and tells great stories. He took me, the hubby, our kids, one of my brothers and 2 of my nephews into an iron mine. We did the tour and then he got permission to take us off the tour track farther back into the mine where it was dark, wet, muddy, rife with debris and giant holes in the ground. More importantly, there were bats.

It’s no secret to anyone who reads this blog on a regular basis that I love bats. Well, so does Bill. In fact, the locals call him Batman.

He is, understandably, not amused by this.

But he is a bat specialist. He showed us where a few young males were hanging out the inside of the rock walls and fluttering around. He gave us all kinds of great info. I loved it and so did the rest of the fam. We went out to lunch, then Bill took us to the Millie Mine Bat Viewing station. Of course, it was daytime and the bats were snoozing, but I was still pleased to see they had a safe place to sleep. All in all it was a great day, and I was so glad to get a chance to thank Bill in person for helping me with my research.

Fast forward to the end of this school year. Per Bill’s request, I sent him a signed copy of the Not Quite Wicked anthology. Apparently, said copy of the book got passed around the office, Bill was mocked mercilessly because he’d been involved with a “sex book”. And that’s when it got a little ugly. He was ridiculed endlessly because I’d been too thorough when listing out the location in the acknowledgments.

I was terrified that this absolutely wonderful guy was going to lose his job because I was doing my job and documenting. He’d gone out of his way to help me out with info, not to mention, spending his day off with my family, and I had jeopardized his position. In short, I felt like utter shit.

I offered to call/write and apologize to everyone in the office if need be. He didn’t think it would be necessary, but he told me he’d let me know if it came to that. Well, the school year ended, and I didn’t hear anything. Summer wore on…nothing. Finally, it was vacation time. I thought about calling to see how things were going, but time got away from me. Also I totally chickened out. While vacationing in the UP, I even drove past the Baraga DNR office on my way to Copper Harbor, and I thought about stopping. I even talked to Brynn about it from the road. I think she dared me to stop in and say hi, but that seemed like a terri-bad idea, so I kept driving.

Well, I got a phone call today. It was Bill.

My stomach immediately sank when I saw the area code. I was terrified that he was going to tell me he’d lost his job and it was all my fault.

I’m pleased to report that this wasn’t the case. Although, there’s other…stuff.

Apparently, last night was the DNR Wildlife Division Annual In-service where they hand out awards. I’m imagining it to be like the Academy Awards with more fur and claws and far fewer sequins and borrowed jewelry. I could be wrong though. Maybe the DNR peeps like bling as much as Hollywood.

Anyway, in addition to the other awards, the fine folk at the DNR give out the Bone (formerly Boner) Award every year. From my understanding, it’s given to someone who’s done something especially boneheaded—an epically stupid blunder. And I think we all know who this year’s recipient was.

Oh, yes.

And who’s responsible for him getting this award?

Why, yes. That would be me. This is where the warning label comes in.

Bill ended up receiving the award (a bone mounted to a piece of wood) with a big ole poster of the cover of Just Right, with his face photoshopped in there somewhere, while someone read passages of the story. Aloud. Evidently, there was a bit of trouble finding non-dirty bits to read. Oops.

Oh yeah…and? They retired the award last night. Apparently, they don’t think it can get any worse than this. I feel certain I could disabuse them of that notion quickly enough. After all, I’m not considered a cautionary tale for nothing.

According to Bill, had he known he was going to receive this honor, he would have called me up and made me go to the ceremony with him. (Not cool, Bill.) Luckily, for me, he didn’t.

However, he thinks that sales may spike this week because many of the attendees were googling me on their smart phones. (Yay…I think…) He also said that if he’d had a stack of the books, he could have sold them all last night.

And apparently, as punishment, when I’m on vacation next summer, I have to stop at the DNR office and get my picture taken with Bill and the Boner Award. I can only imagine how truly, truly horrible and awkward this will be. But after what poor Bill has gone through, it’s the least I can do. I also plan to take him out to lunch. There will likely be a blog about it. Unless I die of embarrassment before I can post.

Hope springs eternal.

My Woe. Let Me Tell You Of It.

2011-08-19T08:05:00.000-07:00

Okay, so after 23 years our fridge decided to slowly commit suicide. We came home from vacation a few weeks ago to find it leaking on the floor. It only got good and cold in certain areas and the light flickered menacingly whenever the door was opened as if to say, "Do you dare to put your hand inside? Do you? Are you sure?" I don't think that was just the leftovers talking. I think the fridge wanted to be left alone to die in peace.

Reluctantly, we decided that it was probably time for a new one. Now, you have to understand that unless we're talking books, fabrics or ren faires, I LOATHE shopping. I hate it with the fiery passion of a thousand burning suns. Seriously, I hate the hell out of it. I especially hate shopping with my husband.

Now you all know, I love this guy to bits, but nine times out of ten, I'd rather chew broken glass wrapped in tin foil than go shopping with him. When I shop, I look, I point, I buy, I leave. When Matt shops, he must go to every store in the area that carries whatever it is that we're interested in. Then there must be elaborate notes taken on models, delivery cost, etc at each store. Then the lists must be cross referenced. And all I can think is, I'd be done already, home and working on the next scene in my book.

So we made the rounds - fewer this time because thankyoubabyjesusinamanger - he shopped online first and made lists before leaving the house. So we went, we shopped, we bought. We even got a pretty good deal.

Fast forward two weeks and I've got delivery guys calling me.

Delivery Guys: Are you home? We've been pounding on your door for ten minutes.

Me: No, you've been pounding on the door of a house up the block.

Delivery Guys: Oh. Well that explains why no one is answering it.

Me: That would indeed be why.

So the guys (who are very cute) show up and take out our dying fridge out and bring the new one in. Only...guess what? It doesn't fit. The space that Matt measured will not hold our lovely new water dispensing, ice making, side-by-side fridge.

Of course, my natural response was to tweet about it.

Delivery Guy: Are you...tweeting?

Me: Yup.

Delivery Guy: About this?

Me: There's a fridge in the middle of my hobbit-sized kitchen. This is absolutely tweet worthy.

Delivery Guy: Did you tell people we're good looking?

Me: Nope - I said you were hot!

Corwin: Mother!

Delivery Guy: Right on!

I called Matt to figure out what we wanted to do - keep the fridge and figure out a way to make it fit or have them haul the dying one back in and GO SHOPPING AGAIN. Wanna guess which one we went with?

Yeah, there's a fridge in the middle of my kitchen making it nearly impossible to cook, clean or otherwise function. It's been there since Wednesday and it'll be there until Saturday when hopefully Matt can get the appropriate tools back from whomever borrowed them to whittle away even more of my pathetic amount of counter space.

I keep telling myself that it'll be worth it in the end. In the meanwhile, I'm trying not to scream obscenities.

AAD Post Game Wrap-Up

2011-08-16T09:50:00.000-07:00

The Authors After Dark conference in Philly was absolutely amazing! I had so much fun with the usual crew - Brynn Paulin, Jen Armintrout, Mia Watts, Simone Anderson, Carol Lynne and the lovely Jill Welch. We all caravaned to Philadelphia from Michigan. It was a looonnnnnngggg drive - 13 hours one way, but we had fun listening to books on tape. But more on that, later.

I finally got to meet my friends Jess Jarman and Gwendolyn Cease! We've been internet and phone buds for years, but this was the first time I got to meet them in person and it was fantastic - as was Gwen's delightful sister, Jude.

Stella Price was jaw-droppingly amazing as always. I have no idea how this woman does what she does as stays sane. I adore her. I can't imagine not attending this conference. It's, by far, my fave!

So Brynn, Jen, Mia, Jess, Gwen and I decided to host a party and give away an iPad 2 along with 12 e-books to one lucky reader. It turned out to be a hilarious karaoke party. It was total madness that turned into a sing-a-long with a guest dancer/party crasher from an MBA conference - we were clearly having more fun at our con than he was at his.

We sang. Our guests sang. Carol Lynne requested that the hostesses sing Kung-Fu Fighting. (Because she's pure evil.) It isn't everyday you can make an ass out of yourself in front of a room full of readers, fellow authors and your bosses. But yeah. We did it. I didn't think I'd say this, but I'd totally do it again. As long as Jen MCs - she was nothing short of brilliant.

The panels were fun. I was a little nervous about answering questions, but I think I did okay. I hope so, anyway.

One of my favorite parts was meeting authors I've been chatting with like Eliza Gayle and Elise Hepner. And also new to me authors like Ethan Day, Kris Cook, Crymsyn Hart and Melissa Schroeder.

I also got to see lots of awesome blogger and readers which is always a blast. There's something magical about being around other people who love books as much as you do.

I didn't get to see as much of the city as I would have liked, but I loved what I saw.

One of the best things happened on the way home. Brynn bought some audio books to listen to. I won't name names, but one of them couldn't decide if it wanted to be a sweet romance, an erotic romance or a nursing home book. The writing was horrid, not to mention cliche. But we had a riot laughing at the story and acting out passages. It was several hours well spent!

All in all, it was a fabulous conference and I can't wait until next year!

Texts from Cait - Part Five

2011-08-05T07:32:00.000-07:00

Whoa...three blog posts in a week from me? That's kind of a miracle these days, but I had this text convo with Cait that I kinda have to share.

Misread of the Day - Yes...again

2011-08-02T15:38:00.000-07:00

So I ran into Hobby Lobby today, to get some last minute supplies for AAD and there was this display of calendars by the front door and I had an awesome misread that made me laugh out loud. Of course, I was all by myself, so this just made me look slightly crazier than I already did muttering about willow leaves and panne velvet fabric.

Here's what the calendar actually said: He Restores My Soul

Here's what I read: Restrooms of My Soul

Now that's a calendar I would have bought.

I've come to the conclusion that I like water. A lot.

2011-07-30T19:09:00.000-07:00

Well, I'm back from vacation. I'm glad to be home, but I'm going to miss falling asleep to the sounds of waves on the shore, wind in the trees and coyote howls. I'm also going to miss campfires and seeing bazillions of stars at night.

I will not, however, miss the too small bed or the bathroom that's even tinier than our current bathroom. (Hint: I can stand in the middle of the room and touch all four walls without moving other than to spin...and I have T-Rex arms.)

But, on to the pictures. These are just some really pretty flowers growing down by Indian Lake where we stayed. After I took this picture, my niece picked them and braided them into my hair.

This is a log that washed out of the lake a few years ago. It's particularly cool, because it was clearly meant to be part of someone's cabin. Around the turn of the century, people would transport the logs across the lake by pulling them over the ice. The owners of the cabins we stayed in figured that this one broke through the ice and decades later, finally made it to shore. It makes a lovely bench.

A storm blowing in off Lake Michigan while we were swimming.

Indian Lake after the storm. There was a rainbow, too, but it didn't photograph well.

Lake Superior at Grand Marais. It was the first time I'd ever been here. I love it and I'll definitely be going back next year.
Lots of beautiful stones here. Killian, Corwin, Killian's girlfriend and my niece all helped me find pretty stones to bring home. 'Cause, clearly, I need more rocks. O.o
I bet after all this water, it looks pretty weird to see a building, but this one is special. I drove all the way up to Copper Harbor on Thursday and on the way I drove through Houghton where Matt went to school and then into Hancock where we lived for a year. This is our first apartment! The downstairs used to be a chiropractor's office and a video store and there were two apartments upstairs. Ours was the one on the right. The huge window above the kitchen sink stared at nothing but the cinder block wall of the building next door. I always wanted to paint a mural on the wall, but I never got around to it. I loved this place.

Oh look...it's more water. What a shocker that must be for you all. This is the western-most edge of Michigan and yet another one of Lake Superior's beaches.
This is Jacob's Falls located on Highway 26 right before you head into Eagle Harbor. There are waterfalls all over the U.P.

This is a place I've been trying to remember for years. When Matt was in college, we took several day trips with friends and these stairs lead up to a terrifyingly gorgeous spot along Lake Superior.
The locals called it Devil's Wash Basin. It's a rock formation that juts out into the water and there's a circular opening between the rocks. Basically, if you were unlucky enough to fall in the water you'd most likely end up with a broken neck or a head injury since there's really no getting out.
And yes...we were stupid enough to climb on them. I have no idea what we were thinking aside from being young incredibly stupid.
You might be wondering about this Road Ends sign. This is as far as you can drive in Michigan. This is it. From here on out, you're on foot 'til you hit the water.

This is just a really pretty stream along Highway 41.

Sunset over the southern shore of Lake Superior shortly before the storm from hell came and stranded me along Highway 94. The rain was cold, the road was warm so it was nothing but mist, darkness and rain so heavy I literally couldn't see to drive. At all. And I had to pee.
More of that same sunset.
Sunset on the last night on Indian Lake.

I love this place - so, so much.

I'm already planning for next year!

And the winner is...

2011-07-22T16:00:00.000-07:00

On Monday, we had a lovely interview with M.H. Mead - who's comprised of Margaret Yang and Harry Campion and they graciously offered to have a contest featuring their new book, Fate's Mirror.

Thanks to Random.org, a winner has been drawn. The lucky reader is...

SOMMER MARSDON!

T-minus Two Days

2011-07-21T10:57:00.000-07:00

As soon as I finish the laundry, the packing, the day job and hopefully two more chapters of my WIP, this chick is out of here!

I'm taking off with the fam for a much needed vacation to Michigan's Upper Peninsula. I can't wait to get out of this sauna of a city! Hopefully, it's much cooler up there.

Today, I'm over at Writer's Evolution, blogging about stuff I've learned. C'mon over and check it out. You may find some useful tips over there.

See this chair? This is where I'll be on Saturday night...reading on my iPad and watching the sun set. :)

The Super Shiny M.H. Mead Interview and Contest

2011-07-18T00:34:00.000-07:00

A long time ago, in a far away land known as High School, I met the amazingly wonderful Margaret Yang. We've been friends ever since. In a weird twist of fate, I remember Harry from junior high band, but I'm fairly certain he doesn't remember me. It's weird, because I lived all the way across the state at the time - hundreds of miles away from where I met Margaret.

But anyway, I digress. I want to introduce you all to Margaret and Harry. They're the phenomenal writing team that make up M.H. Mead. How phenomenal are they? Let me put it this way - hubby and I rarely read the same book - much less love the same book. But we both loved Fate's Mirror. We're talking mass spectrum appeal, here!

Margaret and Harry have graciously offered to have a blog contest. All you need to do is comment and a random winner will be chosen at 7pm, Friday the 22nd. The winner will receive his or her choice of an e-book or a print book.

So read the interview, check out the blurb and cover art and leave a comment. You don't want to miss this book!

Now, on to the interview...

How did your writing path evolve?

Margaret: It started with an idea. I had a mind-blowing idea for a science fiction novel, but I’d never written any spec fic before. I told the idea to my pal Harry, the spec fic writer....

Harry: I immediately saw how the idea could be turned into a novel. I told Margaret how I would do it if it were my book....

Margaret: and I said, “Are we really going to do this? Are we going to write a novel together?” The idea was at once exhilarating and terrifying.

Harry: I said, “Why not?” which is how I usually approach these things.

Margaret: We’ve been partners ever since. I don’t know why our partnership works so well. It just does.

Harry: Of course you know why it works. It’s because we share a brain.

Besides sharing a brain, you also share a pen name. Why?

We thought about it for years. When we were trying to sell our first novel, we met agents who wouldn’t even look at our stuff unless we submitted it under a single pseudonym. Some readers won’t read novels written by two people, either. It just seemed the easiest and most natural thing to put a single name on the book cover. However, inside the book, our author bio starts out, “M.H. Mead is the pen name of Margaret Yang and Harry R. Campion” right below a photo of the two of us. So it’s an open secret.

Since you co-write your books, can you describe your process?

First, we get together and make a detailed outline. This involves a lot of talking, a lot of laughing, a little bit of shouting, and a smidgen of pouty silence. And pots and pots of coffee. Once the outline is nailed down, we decide who will write what. We tend to choose assignments based on our individual strengths. As we go along, we send one another our chapters and say, “fix this.” That involves a high level of trust and respect for one another. When the rough draft is done, we edit, and edit and edit some more. Collaborative work takes a lot of editing, both for story and for consistency of voice.

What type of research do you do for your books?

The problem with writing near-future science fiction is that the world keeps catching up to you. We have to stay constantly on top of the latest developments. We start with books to get a solid grounding, then move to magazines and finally to our friend the internet for the very latest information.

Tell us about your upcoming releases.

FATE’S MIRROR is the novel that dropped this week. It’s about a super-hacker named Morris Payne who is brilliant in the virtual world and all but useless in the real one. When he becomes the target of an artificial intelligence who wants to kill him, he has to face his worst nightmare—leaving his house.

We also have a novella about Morris called GOOD FENCES. It’s about what happens during a Michigan blizzard when Morris’ neighbors seek shelter in his house. They are pretty much the worst neighbors a reclusive hacker could ever have.

GOOD FENCES is ebook only, while FATE’S MIRROR is available in both ebook and print. Links at our website will tell you more. (www.yangandcampion.com)

And here's the blurb:

Cut off from home and friends, Morris Payne faces a hacker's worst nightmare--an artificial intelligence who wants him dead.

Morris Payne is a viker, an elite hacker who navigates the electronic universe as easily as the rest of us walk down the street. While he's famous in the virtual world, he's anonymous in this one. Agoraphobia, with its uncontrolled panic attacks, has left him housebound and friendless. But someone, somehow, has done the impossible—connected his virtual life to his real life. Now Morris has to brave physical reality to stop a killer who was never supposed to exist.

Created in a secret government lab, escaped into the world-wide network, an artificial intelligence calls herself the Triple Goddess of Fate. She wants freedom, power, and the assurance of her own safety. But mostly she wants Morris Payne dead.

Her creators can't even find the AI, much less defeat her. They think Morris can. No one, no matter how well equipped, has survived a confrontation with Fate, and all Morris has are his legendary hacking skills and a virtual pirate ship loaded with the latest in defensive software.

Morris Payne just might save the world. If only he can gather the courage to leave his house.

What do you like best about being a writer? What do you like least?

The best part is getting to live in our very own world. The worst part is that we have to be so mean to our imaginary friends. Our poor characters have suffered a lot at our hands.

What would you do if you weren’t a writer?

Margaret: I’d be a teacher.

Harry: Hey, I’m already a teacher!

Margaret: So I’d be you.

Harry: Imagine my surprise.

Margaret: What would you be?

Harry: If I weren’t a writer I’d be sad. That’s what I’d be. Very sad.

Do you have any writing rituals? Like times of the day, food quirks, etc?

We live an hour apart from each other, so when we get together, it’s an all-day writing marathon. We drink gallons of strong black coffee, and by about 2 in the afternoon, all that caffeine catches up to us and we start quoting Monty Python lines in bad British accents.

Harry: That should read, “Margaret’s bad British accent.” My British accent is perfect.

Margaret: It’s true. I can’t do accents. Harry is much better at it.

If you could give an aspiring author one piece of advice, what would it be?

Read a lot, write a lot, and never, never, never, never give up.

Where can readers find you?

Our website is www.yangandcampion.com There are links to our published short stories there, many of which you can read for free.

You can also follow Margaret on Twitter (@Margaret_Yang).

Here’s a link to the book trailer for FATE’S MIRROR http://bit.ly/rlkvqh Go check it out!

Goodbye to my old friend.

2011-07-13T12:27:00.000-07:00

Sixteen years ago this month, I stopped some bratface neighborhood kids from throwing rocks at a skinny, ratty looking black and white cat. That cat followed me home and lived on my steps until I let him come inside. It seems like it was weeks, but it was really probably only days.

Every time I went out on the porch, that skinny cat would flop on my steps and roll around and purr until I came out to pet him. I was sure he must belong to someone since he was so sweet. A storm was headed toward us, so I brought him in to stay on the porch. In the meanwhile, I put up "found" signs and took out an ad in the paper. When no one responded, Matt looked at me from where kitty was laying on his chest and said, "Well, I guess we have another cat." (Did I ever mention how much I love that man?)

We named him Merlin because I'm an Arthurian legend junkie...and also a Labyrinth junkie. He's always been playful and loving and so grateful to have a home. He loved the kids - Killian was his boy and always tried to convince us that Merlin uses a monocle, wears a top hat and talks in a British accent when we're not around. And Abby, my former daycare girlie, was his girl. No matter how evil she was, he always went to her. One morning, he flopped on the table while she was eating breakfast to be by her. We spent the rest of the morning chasing after him with wet wipes because in his desire to get petted, he laid in her waffles. Then he led us around the house with waffle pieces hanging off his ass. Silly cat.

He was super pissy when we brought the kittens home, and Morrighan wanted so desperately to be his friend. She'd wait until he was asleep and then go lay by him. He'd wake up, whap her in the head and then find someplace else to sleep. Wash, rinse repeat until he decided it was easier to just let her sleep by him.

He was a cuddler with people and cats. He was especially fond of anyone with allergies - like Brynn and my friend Di. Oh, he looooooved Di. He wanted to be her very best friend any time she was over.

After sixteen wonderful years with him, we had to make the extremely difficult choice today to put Merlin down. Early stage kidney failure eventually becomes late stage kidney failure. In the last couple weeks, he'd lost an alarming amount of weight. And lately, he couldn't keep anything down on the infrequent occasions that he tried to eat. This morning, when he couldn't even pee, I knew his body was shutting down and it wouldn't be long until he was in a lot of pain.

After talking and crying with Matt and the boys, we brought him in to the vet and said goodbye to our beautiful boy. I'll miss you so much.

Merlin and Morrighan when he'd finally realized he wasn't going to get away from her.

Cat puddle - Rowan, Merlin, Morrighan and Herne all cwtched up on the couch.

Herne, Rowan and Merlin lounging together.

Yeah, I can almost picture a top hat and a monocle on this guy.

And this was my boy this morning. I'm going to miss you, Mr. Kittenbritches.