Excerpt from The Concubine's Tale

Coming in October from Samhain...


Khanu’s heart clenched at the spectacle that met him when he returned from the courtyard. The sight of Nayari lying limp in the arms of one of the priests nearly sent him to his knees.
“What have you done to her?” He didn’t wait for a reply but scooped her fragile body into his arms. The other priest bowed and backed up a step.

“I had to stop her from escaping. I found her scurrying through the back corridor searching for a way out through our chambers.”

“You had no right to injure her. You should have called me.” Khanu swung Nayari around and headed for her room.

“This way, warrior. We’ll take her to a room below where she won’t escape so easily.”

Khanu hesitated. He looked down at her face, so beautiful in this artificial sleep. Her shallow breathing worried him.

“What did you do to her?”

“A balm to make her sleep.”

Khanu growled. She’d be groggy and sick when she awoke. Grudgingly, he followed the priest to a dark flight of stone stairs. He squeezed his broad shoulders through a narrow door and set Nayari on a small cot in a windowless chamber lit only by a torch in a sconce on the wall.

“Bring water.” He cradled her head in the crook of his arm. “Then stay out of my sight.”

“Of course.” The priest bowed out of the room, and Khanu indulged in a curse upon the man’s family ten generations to come. Why would she try to escape? Surely the priest was mistaken. As the dutiful concubine of the magistrate, it should have been her pleasure to await the arrival of Ammonptah.

She lay in his arms, her face a portrait of innocence. He brushed her lustrous hair from her brow and pressed the back of his hand to her fevered skin. What would Ammonptah do if he found her thus?

The priest returned with a bowl of water and a cloth, and Khanu glared at him. “Post a guard at the temple gate. Enemies of Ammonptah are everywhere it seems.” Even in this room, he added silently.

Once the priest had gone, Khanu tended to Nayari. Drops of cool water squeezed from the cloth onto her head roused her slightly, and she moaned.

“You’re safe,” he said when her eyes fluttered open. She stared at him for a moment, her eyes blank. Then she surged upward, fear clouding her expression. She screamed once—a short, tortured sound that Khanu cut off by clamping a hand over her mouth. She struggled in his arms, and he hushed her, rocking her against his chest.

“No, I’m not.” Her voice trembled as she recounted what the acolyte had told her.
Khanu had heard the name Benak-Ra before. He’d seen tales of the man’s cruelty strike fear in the hearts of many seasoned warriors. A fragile creature such as Nayari would wither at his hands.

His loyalty to Ammonptah dissolved as she finished telling him about the plot to unseat Pharaoh. “I will not let them give you to the wizard.”

She settled against him finally, and her breathing returned to normal. When he looked down at her, tears spilled over her cheeks. “But Ammonptah is our master.”

“Not any longer.”

“What?” She trembled in his arms. The sensation of her supple body shuddering against his turned his thoughts to further betrayal of Ammonptah.

“We will escape.”

“How? The priests are watching.”

“They’re watching the front of the temple. They believe I’m loyal to Ammonptah and will do as I say. We will leave here in a few hours, before they rise for their morning prayers.”

Her honey-colored eyes searched his and, beneath the fear, he saw trust and admiration. She put her hands on either side of his face and brought her lips close to his. Her breath was sweet. “Tell me your name.”

“Khanu,” he whispered, so close to her mouth that the word echoed between them. “Servant of Nayari.”

She kissed him then, and a sensation that had to be borne of the gods shot through his body. Every muscle went taut, and the ache in his loins exploded into flame as her tongue slipped between his lips.

****

As promised

The awesome cover art for my upcoming Samhain re-release:

When an ancient papyrus scroll comes up for auction, gallery curator Cait Lang draws the distasteful task of notifying her boss’s favorite client, Grant Pierson. The rare art and antiquities collector’s arrogance grates on her nerves, but most of all she resents her own weakness for his athletic body and deep brown eyes.

It’s the hieroglyphic scroll that draws Grant to a private, after-hours showing at the gallery. But the lovely Cait’s narration of the erotically charged story captures his interest. Determined to hear the rest of the tale—and spend more time in Cait’s company—he convinces her to join him for dinner.

The intricate, sensual tale transports Cait and Grant’s imaginations into the past. And the depictions of sexually charged temple rituals inspire them to explore their own hidden passions—in Cait's apartment.

Even as Grant succumbs to Cait’s charms, the drive to own the scroll hums in the back of his mind. If he isn’t careful, though, he’ll not only lose the chance to hear the end of the story, he’ll lose something more precious. The missing piece of his own life—Cait.

October 2010

I'm baaaaaaaaack!

Did you miss me?

Did you know I was gone?

Well, never mind. In case you did know I was gone and in case you did miss me, I'm back in cyberspace and trying to hoist myself back on the writing wagon.

It's been a tedious six months with looking for a new house, finding one, getting everyone moved in and all kinds of work done fixing the place up. We're marginally settled now - my old house is still on the market and I know it will be a job selling it in this economy, but my hopes are high and my fingers are crossed.

In the mean time I thought I'd dive in to an equally challenging task and start trying to keep up my blog again and get some writing done before the summer is over.

I haven't been a total schlub. I have the re-release of my crosst-time adventure The Concubine's Tale coming from Samhain in October [stay tuned for a preview of the awesome cover art!] and I've got my first Liquid Silver release Icarus Rising {TBD}.
I'm working on the second book in the Icarus series and a couple other novellas, so I hope to heating up cyberspace once again in the 2nd half of 2010.

For 2011 I have plans to make it the year of the eBook - stay tuned for more details. Right now I'm off to see about updating my websites [I know, I've been seriously lax] and then to get some actual writing done!

More soon so visit often!

Home Sweet Home

Whew. What an experience.

Yesterday, after six months of searching, negotiating, and paperwork, we finally closed on our new house. It's been a wild ride, and the fun is only just beginning since now we have to clean it, paint most of the rooms, and figure out how to organize all of our stuff and our lives so we can move our daily routine exactly 1.1 miles from our old house to a new town.

The new place has a smaller yard [I have to say goodbye to my giant maple tree :(, the pool :), and all the various an sundry critters and creatures that reside in the mini-jungle I call my back yard right now.] But on the upside all that room we're giving up outside is now inside - I'm gaining a dining room, cabinet and counter space in the kitchen that is to die for, the kids will have a game room, DH has his own office with a built-in desk and I will have my own office [with a door! and it's own private deck!] Maybe in a month or so, when all the dust settles, I can hang my shingle up on my office door and call myself a serious writer again, since I haven't been one during most of this tortuous process.

Things I've learned from this experience:

1. Real estate agents never sleep - ours seemed to be on call 24/7 and available at a moment's notice to do anything and everything associated with finding us a house and helping us buy it.

2. Banks and mortgage brokers can kiss my shiney metal a$$. New rules and regulations, while I can see the merit in some of them, are basically designed to waste time, paper and money. What good does it do to make someone sign a paper saying they promise the money they borrowed from the bank was NOT used to fund terrorist activities? Do they really think the terrorists are going to tell the truth there? Seriously?

3. The term 'broom swept clean' is open to a lot of interpretations. The least of which is 'clean.'

4. The most fun [and scary] part of walking through your new house is finding all the goodies [and baddies] the previous owners left behind. Ours left us champagne in the fridge and a freezer full of ice cream! They also left all the garbage cans full and 10,000 plastic hangers, and a few things we haven't yet identified.

5. The post office does not really understand the concept of forwarding mail. They may have invented it, but they don't really understand it.

All that being said, here's the new place - this is the real estate photo, not one I took myself. Home Sweet Place I Can't Wait to Repaint and Furnish.

Catch you after the holiday weekend. Have a great one and hug your realtor today!

Are you still LOST?

So who all watched the 2 ½ hour LOST series finale last night? I was glued to it…and still remain somewhat confused, but I think I sort of get the mythology.

I won’t go into spoilers. All I’ll say is, I’m glad for happy endings for the major players, I’m glad none of the really annoying characters showed up, like Anna Lucia or Michael and Walt, and most of all I loved the spiritual component of the ending – this huge soul family has all come back together to welcome one of its own into the fold and move on to another plane of existence.

I still don’t get the smoke monster…or the polar bears, but maybe they weren’t as important as everyone thought.

So what’s your take on LOST? Are you glad we were all finally kicked off the island or would you go back if you had the chance?

Signed and sealed

Today I feel like a writer. I haven't really felt like one in a while, because I've had to push writing to the back burner in favor of all the angst and stress that comes with buying and selling a house.

Somehow, in the middle of it all, thought, I didn't manage to write, edit, submit and sell a new novella! Well, Bernadette did.

Today I [she] signed a contract with Liquid Silver Books for the first of a sci-fi series. The novella is called Icarus Rising [my NaNo story] and here's the blurb:

To save a dying race, sociologist Caleb Faulkner will forfeit his humanity. He has volunteered to join with an alien creature in order to take part in an ambitious breeding program designed to spare the dominant race on the planet Icarus from certain extinction.

Dr. Zara Abbott has spent months helping to prepare Caleb for the joining, hiding her feelings for the man who will become the mate to an Icarian female as soon as he receives his symbiotic wings. When the joining proves disastrous, Caleb and his alien symbion can think of only one thing, mating with Zara. After so long preparing to sacrifice Caleb to the Icarians, will she be able to refuse the man who makes her heart take flight?


I have a portion of the next story in the series written - called Icarus Unbound and now I've got to get cracking on that. Off to dust my keyboard and put some fresh ink in the printer.

Stay tuned for more info!

Team Jacob

Since I prefer my doses of teen angst to be few and far between, I have not read the Twilight saga, but I have watched the movies.

Last night I finally got to my Netflix copy of New Moon, the 2nd in the series. I watched it by myself, since no one else in my house can deal with vampires that sparkle in the sunlight.

Mild spoiler alert!

I won't go into a long rant or even a review of the movie or the story. I will only say that there must seriously be something wrong with Bella Swan if she can choose Edward, who is practicalyl invisible except for his red lips and bushy eyebrows, over Jacob who runs around tattooed and shirtless.

I thought it was funny that they reserved Bella's one shocked gasp for the end of the movie when Edward proposes rather than for the scene in which Jacob peels off his shirt to reveal abs that would make a wash board weep with envy. Seriously, I wanted to slap the girl.

While when it comes to vampires, I shall forever remain staunchly in the Angel* camp, I have to say, if forced to choose Team Edward or Team Jacob, it's really a no-brainer.

* Angel: Look under 'real vampires' in the wiktionary, thank you Joss Whedon

Location, location, location

I got a kick out of this picture from I Can Has Cheezeburger for a couple of reasons.

1. Since we've been house hunting [found one, btw - updates will coming] I've seen so many descriptions of properties for sale - and 'bigger on the inside' has acutally shown up once or twice. 'Must be seen!' is another catchphrase I'm skeptical of. Now I'm wondering if all those houses that are 'bigger on the inside' might really be TARDISes. I'll never know.

2. Anyone caught the first episode of the new Dr. Who? I was hugely skeptical about Dr. # 11 played by Matt Smith. He's too young and he's not David Tenant, but I have to admit, he did a good job. I 'm looking forward to more episodes, but I'll always have a soft spot for 'Ten.'

Heard of beefcake?

Well how about some Mushroom Cake??

For my birthday, DH went all out and had a special cake designed for me. I like mushrooms [not the psychedelic kind, mind you] - I especially like mushrooms as decorations, so he ordered a cake that would incorporate mushrooms into the design and here's what he got:

It's a basket of woodland mushrooms complete with a couple of lady bugs, a dragon fly and a small worm. Yum! LOL. This extravaganza is courtesy of Extreme Cakes by Linda which happens to be owned by the Mom of one of DH's friends.

The decorations are marzipan [three pounds worth] and underneath, inside the lattice work basket which you can't see so well in the picture, is a rich dark chocolate cake with chocolate buttercream filing.

Decadent isn't really a strong enough word to describe how it tastes.

Here's another view where you can see some of the basket. The green lady bug is also visible. I ate that first.

In addition to the cake, he also got a plate of specially made Peep-shi...that's Sushi made with marshamallow Peeps. The kids devoured that...

We're supposed to go to my favorite restaurant for dinner, but I'm not sure I'm hungry after sampling the cake after lunch. I may have to stick with a salad, but if I do, I'll try to find one with a better attidude than this one:

TGIP?

I was going to title this post Thank God It's Friday - because man, do I need a Friday. And tomorrow is my birthday, so I'm looking forward to doing a whole lot nuthin' and then going out for a nice dinner.


Then I remembered there's another reason to happy it's April 9th - THE MATCHMAKERS is now available in PRINT!

Visit Samhain to find out how to get your copy!

What I'm listening to...

How cool is this? The audiobook version of The Matchmakers is available today at Audiolark!

I've been listening to The Matchmakers over the course of the past few days and it's a trip to hear someone reading my words. I've always thought reading a book is like watching a movie in my head, and listening to one is the same thing. The best part was, I could 'read' my book while I was doing chores and walking around the house [with the help of my son's iPod.]

I'm always bemoaning the fact that I don't have enough time to sit down and relax and read, but I'm thinking an audio library would allow me to read books while I get everything else done too.

If you've ever thought of trying an audiobook, drop by Audiolark and pick up a copy of The Matchmakers to listen to any time! [If you want to try it out, you can also listen to an excerpt on your computer!]

Cat caption of the week

A riveting review!

First review = Awesome!

Emily of Sensual Reads says:

The story is rich in complex characters and captivating until the very last page. I found myself riveted to Slither’s completely unique plot.

Crash!

That's the sound of my desk top computer dying this weeking.

We had one of those wicked Nor'easter storms on Saturday night. Trees down everywhere [two at the end of the street], branches flying, phone lines down, shingles off the roof and lights flickering. We never actually lost power completely, but with intgermittent brown-outs DH told me I should shut my computer down.

I did, and Sunday morning it couldn't wake back up. Fortunately he was able to pull out the hard drive and retrieve all my data - whew! He loaded everything onto my laptop which is now my one and only computer.

Fortunately I also had recently backed up to a jump drive and a CD so I was covered. Let this be a lesson to you all - back up your drives!! You never know when you're computer will decide it's light's out permanently.

Cat caption of the week

Ready for 2011

For once, I'm way ahead the game.

Yesterday I signed a new contract with Samhain for my paranormal novel Uncross My Heart which will be available in 2011.

Uncross [as I've been calling it] is as near and dear to me as The Matchmakers.

This novel was a real labor of love that introduces characters I was hoping to spend a lot of time with. I hope my readers will too...here's the working blurb:

Uncross My Heart

After more than a century living la vida muerta, Julian Devlin loses his wealth and his hard won place in the vampire hierarchy when his closest ally betrays him by casting a magick spell which restores his humanity. Forced to rely on Zoe Boyd, the quirky, fashion unconscious consignment shop owner who helps him navigate through the human world while he seeks help from a devilish witch to reverse the spell, Julian learns the value of a beating heart and a human soul. When finally faced with the opportunity to reclaim his lost power, he must choose between the cold comfort of immortality and his love for the beautiful woman who risked her life to give him back his death.


Notice how I worked 'la vida muerta' in there? It really wasn't intentional, but now I kind of like it.

Stay tuned for more info on Uncross my Heart!

Slinky, Sexy, Slither

Today's the day!

Slither is available at Ellora's Cave!

You can find it on the homepage or follow this link to purchase and read an excerpt.

The Blurb:

Rihana Daniels has seen a lot in five years working as a psychic for the NYPD, but the murder of a freelance reporter makes her question if she really wants to continue her law enforcement career.

The dark vibe she gets from this case is nothing new, but the main suspect, sexy, enigmatic tattoo artist Heath, leaves her heightened senses burning. She can read him like a book—and she can see his innocence but she can’t prove it. His feral sexual thoughts make her insane with need and her desire for him jeopardizes her job and the investigation.

When she learns the truth about the man who can strip her soul bare with a glance, will she give up everything she knows to flee with him to a safer world? Or will she become a psychic killer in order to destroy a ruthless assassin and put an end to her lover’s exile?

Cat caption of the week

Mea Culpa

Darn but I can't make fun of the weather forecasters. This time they were right.

Are you ready for the snow?

We heard this question all last week - and while I feel the pain of everyone south of us who got caught in 'Snowmaggedon' - it's hard for me to muster any confidence in the weather report when here in upper New Jersey, we didn't see a single dag-burn flake of the white stuff this past weekend.

I saw the weather maps and it looked ominous - a huge cloud of white crawled across the United States headed straight for us like a tidal wave.

Then nothing.

Today, it's gorgeous outside. I have to say, this is one the nicest days of February I ever remember. Usually Valentine's month is horrid, cold, wet, icy, frigid and mean. Today I went out to clean off my car windows [my windshield wiper fluid dispenser is broken] wearing only a sweatshirt. [Well, in addition to pants, a shirt, socks, sneakers and underwear, but you get the picture.] I also took a short walk from the corner and enjoyed a bit of fresh air in preparation for supposedly being snowed in for the better part of the next two days.

The storm that's coming is bigger, badder and more of everything 'snowpocalypsey.' Schools north of us are already closed for tomorrow, companies are putting employees on alert that they may be getting the day off too.

I'm ready. But I just want to say beforehand, that if we don't get any snow this time - I'm going to ridicule the weather services unmercifully until they cry.

Bring it on, Mother Nature. I'm ready.

Romantic sensibilities take a hit

Last night I rented 500 Days of Summer, the 'romantic comedy' with Zooey Deschanel and Joseph Gordon-Levitt that's been getting rave reviews.

It looked innocuous enough and I'd heard from several people that it was cute and watchable. Any time the words 'romantic' and 'comedy' are used I'm pretty much hooked.

Too keep up the fishing anologies, this time was a bait and switch - not as severe as Nights in Rodanthe or Bridge to Terabithia [both of those movies should have come with disclaimers for the sensitive at heart] but nevertheless, this movie left the romance writer in me asking WTF?

SPOILER ALERT!! Don't read further if you don't want to know...

In all fairness the ominous voice of the narrator in this tale does warn the audience that this is not a love story. That should have been my first clue, but I'm a cock-eyed optimist and I kept hoping he was lying. Turns out he was spot on. The story follows the ill-fated relationship of Summer and Tom, two eccentric clunkies who work for a greeting card company.

The characters are personable enough - Tom, the optimist, looking for true love believes he's found it in the quirky, sometimes spacey Summer. She's more jaded as the product of her parents' divorce [cue the wambulance here] and she does not believe in love. It's all a fantasy according to her. She likes to fool around but doesn't make committments. Her capricious nature puts Tom on an emotional roller coaster that gets him bumped from the Valentine's Day department at work to Sympathy and Grief because he's a walking wound when Summer leaves not only him but her job. [It's never clear when or why she quits].

The story is told in a non-linear fashion [I hate that, btw] even in time travel stories, I like things to progress in order. So we see the end before we really understand the beginning. This does not help the story.

I won't give away the ending, which makes what I consider a lame attempt to assure the audience that everything will be all right in the end and that our following this disappointing relationship hasn't been for nothing since we've learned something [as Tom does] about the human condition and about love in general.

I learned here's another movie that I'm glad I didn't plunk down $10.00 for at the theater. While it was good for a chuckle or two...romantic it was not. Rating: WTF.

Forecast for February: Steamy

I got my release date for my upcoming Ellora's Cave novel - Slither!

Mark your calendars for February 17th and crank the AC because things are going to get hot!

Here's that excerpt I promised - and for more - drop by the Ellora's Cave chat loop this Sunday for some more sneak peeks from Slither!

****

The bedroom was just dark enough to be sultry. The California king-sized bed bore sheets of gunmetal satin which made it look like a block of iron sitting in the middle of the room. He adjusted the lighting to give the place a warm glow from overhead spotlights set around the perimeter of the ceiling. Behind the bed was a mirror and at its foot, a black leather bench. Her missing scarf lay across the end of the mattress.

She blushed. “I accidentally left that at your shop.”

“It was no accident.”

She resented the implication. She’d been in such a hurry to escape after he’d brought her to a shuddering orgasm that she’d barely had both her shoes on when she stumbled out the back door. Acute embarrassment made her shiver.

She jumped at the feel of his fingers on her shoulders, but she managed to keep herself calm while he slid her jacket off.

He placed the garment on a high backed chair in the corner of the room and returned to walk around her in a circle. “You stand like you have a stick up your ass.”

She burst into surprised laughter. She’d expected sexual innuendo, or even an open invitation to fuck. “I knew you were charming, but wow. Way to knock a girl’s socks off.”

He faced her, wry amusement lighting his features. “It’s not just your socks I want off. How do you manage to get through life being so uptight, Miss Daniels?” He grazed her cheek with a forefinger and the feathery touch sent a cascade of awareness down her body. Next he rested his hands on her shoulders and pressed down a bit. “Drop your arms. Breathe deep. If you lock up all your muscles, you’ll impede blood flow to your brain and you’ll pass out.”

“Is this a yoga class? Because I forgot my mat.”

“Do you suffer from dizzy spells? Do you get lightheaded often?”

She did. Gramma Essie always told her that was her connection to the quaking. It drained her energy.

“No,” he said, not in response to his own question, but to her unspoken thoughts. “It’s because you clench up everything all the time. You’re suffocating yourself with your own nervous tension.”

“And how are you going to relax me?” Her impertinent question prompted him to slip his fingers into the collar of her blouse. One by one he opened the buttons, making sure to brush against her bare skin as he did so. “Oh.”

After he flicked open the last button, he spread the shirt and pushed it off her shoulders, exposing her bra. She figured he would go for that next. God, she wanted him to, but with her jaw clenched so tightly to keep from moaning aloud, she couldn’t tell him.

Maddeningly, he ignored her breasts and instead ran his hands down her abdomen to the fly of her jeans. He worked quickly to open the button and zipper and then eased the stiff denim down over her hips and thighs. She arched her back instinctively, but refused to make a sound. He helped her slip her shoes off and step out of the jeans. He squeezed her ass before stripping off her panties, and she stifled a groan. This had already gone too far. Why couldn’t he simply paint on her hand or her arm? Why did she have to be so exposed and so vulnerable to him?

She squeezed her eyes shut when he dropped a kiss on her shoulder and her knees threatened to buckle when he pulled her shirt off and dropped it on the floor. Now she wore only her bra, and he made quick work of that, opening the fastening in the back with expert fingers.

At the foot of the bed, he snagged her scarf and returned to her side. For a moment she worried that he planned to tie her up and she tensed even further. A stab of fear wormed its way through her lower belly and he must have felt it because he grunted.

“I’m not going to hurt you,” he said. “I’d love to tie you up, but I won’t.” He offered her the scarf. “Cover your eyes with this. I don’t want you to watch me work. I’d rather you be surprised.” The sleek watered silk felt like heaven against her sensitive skin, but fear of losing control made her hesitate. “You can remove it any time. It’s about trust. If you trust me not to take advantage of your not being able to see, I’ll trust you not to remove the blindfold.”

She pursed her lips and considered the offer. Why not?

Is it hot in here?

Or is it just me?

I got the cover art for my upcoming Ellora's Cave release, Slither, and I've been a little warm ever since.

Here's the blurb:

Rihana Daniels has seen a lot in five years working as a psychic for the NYPD, but the murder of freelance reporter Tanesha Wain makes her question if she really wants to continue her law enforcement career.

The dark vibe she gets from this case is nothing new, but the main suspect, sexy, enigmatic tattoo artist Heath Gyland, leaves her heightened senses burning. She can read him like a book – and she can see his innocence but she can’t prove it. His feral sexual thoughts make her insane with need and her desire for him jeopardizes her job and the investigation.

When she learns the truth about the man who can strip her soul bare with a glance, will she give up everything she knows to flee with him to a safer world or will she become a psychic killer in order to destroy a ruthless assassin and put an end to her lover’s exile?

This one is dedicated to all the fans of SKIN who asked for Heath's story. I'll update you with a release date as soon as I can.

Heat Wave

Okay, I admit. I bought Richard Castle's* new book, Heat Wave, just because he's cute. I wasn't sure I'd like it. After all, a slim novel about a slim police detective with the dubious moniker Nikki Heat has got to have some flaws.

I wasn't surprised, nor was I completely disappointed. Castle's book is a slow read, surprisingly so for a mere 196 pages. It reads a bit like watching an episode of an eponymous crime drama, though I can't for the life of me imagine why.

I posit Castle has put a little too much of himself into the male lead, wise-cracking journalist Jameson Rook, but I have to credit him for the somewhat ingenious idea of fiction-within-fiction. Blurring the line between one universe and another is something I think most writers strive for, even if they won't admit it.

Would I read another Rick Castle book? Hmm...probably. As long as his picture is on the back cover.

For more about best-selling author Richard Castle you can check out these links:

Richard Castle's Wikipedia Page

Richard Castle's Facebook Page

Richard Castle's Twitter Page

*Yes, I know Rick Castle is a fictional character. I'm just not sure HE knows it.

Coffee anyone?

How about four cups?

That's how many La Vida Muerta earned at Coffee Time Romance!

Here's a snippet of the review by Cherokee:

"...wear something on your hands so you don’t get burned, because La Vida Muerta is steamy hot. You might want to keep a bucket of ice nearby too. Lucas is one sizzling hot lover."

If you want to read the rest of the review, press the button below.

I worry

I worry about a lot of things, but my current worry centers on video surveillance.

Why, you might ask? Since I'm fairly scrupulous about obeying the law, you would think the idea of video surveillance would not bother me, but it does.

Here's why.

I talk to myself a lot. Being a writer, I often have conversations with characters. Being slightly neurotic, I also have conversations with me, myself and I quite a bit, and sometimes with people I know who just don't happen to present at the time. Sometimes I argue with them. Usually I win the arguments, and often I forget that people can sometimes hear or see me talking.

This morning, as I rode up to my office in the elevator, I was finishing a heated debate with someone who wasn't acutally there, and I realized that the elevator most likely has video surveillance. So it's entirely possible that somewhere in the security office of the building, someone was laughing their butt off at the crazy lazy who talks to herself in the elevator.

I need to start carrying an iPod. Then at least I could use the excuse that I'm really singing.

I surrender!

see more Lolcats and funny pictures

A balloon-phobic's nightmare. {{{shiver}}}

Books Read

I'm a list maker and a few years ago I started keeping a list of the books I read, just to see how many I actually could pack into my brain in a year.

In 2007 I read 46 books with an additional 7 that I started and did not finish.

In 2008 I read 54 books with an additional 7 that I started and did not finish.

In 2009 I read a whopping 57 books with an additional 14 that I started and did not finish.

So, the math says that's 185 books over the course of 3 years with 28 wall bangers. I wonder if I just read faster this year, so I was able to get my hands on more books, or if my tolerance for the not so great book has dropped.

Of the books I finished this year, my favorite was probably Dreamfever by Karen Marie Moning followed closely by Still Life by Joy Fielding. The last book I finished in 2009 was And Another Thing by Jenny Thompson.

I'm starting 2010 off with Heat Wave by Richard Castle [hey, he's cute, what can I say - LOL] I plan to blog about this one when I'm done with it. And I'm also reading FDA: Failure, Deception and Abuse by William Faloon [scary stuff].

I'd like to see if I can top 57 next year - and have fewer books I don't finish.

How many books have you read this year? Do you keep track?

The Un-Resolution Post 2009 edition

And the tradition continues!

I spent some time this morning reviewing my previous Un-Resolution posts and pondering what I would write about this year. Last year’s post pretty much said it all. I was tired of the rat race of publishing and discouraged by the feeling that my bliss had become my chore. I decided to step back a year ago and not make my goal about earning more, producing more and climbing another hard won rung on the ladder of literary success.

And I succeeded in doing just that. LOL. I earned less this year. I wrote less this year. I did not snag a new agent or a new editor. Some of my best stories were published – hurray! And I wrote a few more that are, I think, well worth the effort I put into them. Also a success.

I didn’t plant that garden I was talking about. But I did re-discover some of my joy in writing and I found out that it comes from actually writing, not from chatting, marketing, twittering or schmoozing. I found a measure of contentment in my life...and that is the goal I’ve always wanted to attain.

I can say with all honesty that, despite the dismal global economy, despite personal losses, and fighting the continual uphill battle to craft the life I’ve always wanted to live, I am, at the end of 2009, more content than I have ever been. I don’t feel the need to be swept along in what other people are doing or expect me to do. I don’t feel the need drag myself kicking and screaming to the computer to write when I don’t feel it, because I HAVE to. I don’t feel compelled to beat out anybody else in the race to the bestseller list or the next big advance.

The coming year isn’t going to be easy for a lot of reasons, but even with all the challenges ahead of me, I foresee a happier and hopefully healthier year.

I wish you all the same.

Avoid using Alphabet Soup

...to make a phone call.

Seriously. It doesn't work.

I learned this in a dream I had the other night. For some reason, I was trying to call my friend K to ask her if she could stop by my house and feed the cats, but I was having a lot of trouble dialing her number because I couldn't find a '1' in the bowl of alphabet soup I was using to call her.

Honestly, I don't drink. I really don't.

Maybe I should.

Anyway, I finally gave up and decided to try a phone. That worked a lot better.

So I pass this knowledge on to you. Don't use alphabet soup to make a phone call...there are not enough numbers in it.

In other news:

When will pretty young starlets learn NOT to MARRY Charlie Sheen? I mean, really, how hard could it be to resist the guy?

A Lesson From James Cameron

Last night I was reminded why I love science fiction.

We went to see James Cameron's AVATAR and it was truly stunning.

I'll start by saying the plot is not unique, but these days, no plots are. It's the way a story is told that makes it special, and this one takes the cake in that department. The world building is a feat of genius and one I recommend any science fiction author study. I know I intend to.

Visually, this movie is not just eye candy...it's a ten course meal. The colors, the movement, everything is just a step beyond. I sat through most of it agape, knowing I was missing so much because I could only look in one place at a time.

AVATAR is everything I would like my stories to be. It's an adventure, a romance, a pulse-pounding ride into the unknown. It transports you to someplace you could never have imagined on your own.

I can only say, well done!

BTW, remember when I was ranting about how they plugged AVATAR in an episode of BONES? Yeah. Forget that. I take back any complaint I might have made, because I get it now. It makes a cute kind of sense and I don't mind.

If you write science fiction, if you write romance...if you write...heck, if you breathe, go see AVATAR. You won't be disappointed.

Holiday Break

The year is winding down again, and it seems like each day there is more and more that needs to be done.

2010 is going to be very full - unfortunately not with writing.

I've decided to take a break from the industry for a while. The rollercoaster ride of constantly waiting and hoping for good news only to get rejections is starting to take a toll on my creativity, so it's time to step back.

I've just signed a contract with Ellora's Cave for the sequel to SKIN. The new novel is called SLITHER. I don't have a release date yet, but I will post updates as I get them. My previously published The Concubine's Tale [related to The Soul Jar] will be coming out from Samhain also in 2010, no release date scheduled yet. So I won't be disappearing, I just won't be pounding the pavement for a while.

My goal for the coming year is to get back to the point where I am a writer first and foremost - not a promo artist, not a marketing guru, not jack of all trades master of none. I won't disappear, I just won't spend as much time in cyber space as normal.

So on that note, I want to wish you all a very Happy Holiday Season and a wonderful New Year.
I'll be in my writing cave if you need me.

Surprise!

My release date snuck up on me. I really thought this was coming out on the 15th for some reason, but SURPRISE on me, it's today!

Hop on over to Samhain and check out their home page, where The Soul Jar is first up!

Here's a little excerpt to whet your appetite:

Recognition hit Chance MacKenzie like a cold blade in the gut. Bree. Good Lord, she hadn’t changed at all. Even with her raven hair pulled back in a thick ponytail and her luscious figure hidden by a black sweatshirt, she took his breath away.

Of all the places he might have encountered her—all the places he’d studiously avoided since their last disastrous adventure—he’d never have imagined finding her here in New York’s Chinatown, slinking around in the back room of Chen’s famous curiosity shop.
This was no place for priceless treasures of any kind.

“You used to call me Chance,” he said as soon as he found his voice. The shock made his heart skip a beat. He could not have been more nonplussed if he’d encountered one of the Yetis that supposedly belonged to the gnarled, shriveled hands lying on the shelf behind her head.

“Only your friends call you Chance, and I’m not one of your friends.” Her reply stung, like a sharp pinprick in the callus that had grown over his heart since he’d seen her last, since he’d held her in his arms and planned a future with her at his side. Pushing aside the ache that had begun in the middle of his chest, he smiled wide, partly to throw her off guard and partly because the pain reminded him that he hadn’t actually died two years ago.

“Aw, can’t we get past that, luv? I forgive you for killing me. Since I’m not really dead, I can’t hold a grudge.”

The corners of her lustrous blue eyes sparkled. After what he’d put her through, he’d never have expected to see tears in those eyes, only the cold hatred of a woman badly scorned.
He looked away as she swiped at her eyes. Her voice wavered when she asked, “So how is it you’re not really dead?”

“Blanks in the gun.” He struck with surgical precision. No time now for apologies or complex explanations.

“I saw blood.” The last word came out as a choked whisper. What he wouldn’t have given to hold her in his arms and comfort her, to feel her supple body yield to his again.

If wishes were horses, he thought and struck again. “Exploding blood packets under my shirt. A ripcord tethered to the side of the balcony. A broken mannequin, wearing my clothes, tossed on the cobblestones below.” With each word, he cut her. Each confession wedged open the wounds he’d made so long ago, and he saw in her eyes that she bled anew.

Her lower lip trembled, just enough to draw his attention and hold it. God, he remembered her mouth, the taste of her, hot and sweet.

“If you’d like more details, why don’t we get out of here, and I’ll buy you a drink? Shimmy back out the window, and I’ll meet you once I’ve concluded my business with Mr. Chen.”

“Chen’s not here.”

“Yes, but he’ll be back very soon to check his precious cash drawer before he goes to bed, and part of my business is to be long gone before that happens.” He made a move to sidle past her, careful to avoid the slightest physical contact. If he touched her now…

She twisted sideways as he passed and plastered herself against the rickety shelves. Why did it hurt that she didn’t want to touch him either?

Her eyes followed him, darts of sharpened steel in the dimness. “What are you after, MacKenzie?”

“Priceless Yeti hands…and a dollop of petrified dino poo. I know I saw some around here somewhere. Fetches thousands on the black market.” Let her laugh, he thought. Let her laugh the way she used to at my stupid jokes.

“Cut the crap. No more lies.” She followed him a step, but stopped short of grabbing his sleeve.
He turned sharply, met those steel-blade eyes and braced himself against the flood of regret that threatened to drown him. “Lies saved your life, sweetheart. Without them, one or both of us really would be dead now.”

She said nothing, but a muscle in her jaw twitched. He longed to touch it and soothe away the anger that drew her up so tight. “Get out of here, Bree. Whatever you’re after, it’s not worth it.”

“But it’s worth it for you?” Her voice rose with the challenge. “We’re here for the same thing, aren’t we?”

“I doubt it.” No, he didn’t.

“Fine. Then take what you want and leave me be.” She turned away, flung herself into the deep shadows at the back of the shop. He’d have let her go, believing it was better for both of them to leave the past buried in the empty grave in New South Wales that bore his name. He would have, if he hadn’t seen what he’d come here for, gleaming over her shoulder in the meager light that filtered through the dirty window.

On a high, narrow shelf at the very back of the shop, it sat on a thin velvet cushion, looking like royalty among the peasants. The junk that surrounded it seemed to fade from view. The perfectly white oval was no larger than a woman’s palm, and it seemed to glow with an inner light. Chance wondered if the strange luminescence came from the two souls rumored to be trapped inside it or from his long unrequited desire to actually see the fabled object in person.
His mouth went dry. He could tell by Bree’s stillness that she’d seen it too. She’d found her objective, just as he’d suspected.

Now the question hung in the dusty, stale air of the shop. Which one of them would fulfill their mission and leave with the Soul Jar, and which would be left betrayed again?

For more, visit Samhain Publishing!

Everything is a commercial

Yep, I'm still here. I didn't fall out of the blogoverse, I just got mega sidetracked with RL stuff. I have a feeling it's pretty much gonna be like that throughout 2010, but I will do my best to keep things posty around here.

Anyway, I wanted to whine about an alarming trend I've noticed lately. Maybe it's not all that new, maybe it's not really all that alarming, but it bugs me.

Have you noticed that fictional TV shows [you know, the ones where the actors are NOT playing themselves] are looking more and more like continuous commercials? As if it wasn't bad enough to get 15 to 20 minutes of ads during every 60 minutes of prime time, now the shows themselves are all about advertising.

This hit home when I was watching last week's episode of Bones. A subplot [if you could call it that] revolved around several of the characters getting tickets to go see the new movie Avatar.

Now, don't get me wrong, Avatar looks like a stunning movie and I can't wait to see it. Showing a trailer during the commercial breaks in the show would be fine, BUT the plot of the episode involved the characters not only talking up the movie, but watching a clip from it on TV.

On the surface, hey, what's the big deal, right? It's a cool movie, and it sort of makes sense that the characters who live in an only mildly alternate version of our real world would be interested in seeing it, but including what are essentially ads for the movie directly in the episode to me smacks of... I don't know...a little too much mind control.

Oddly enough, I don't complain when the cast of The Big Bang Theory talks about Star Wars, BSG, Star Trek or any comic book hero. It didn't bother me when they had Summer Glau as a guest star during her stint on The Sara Conner Chronicles...but this plug for Avatar left me miffed. I'm just wondering if this is what our TV fiction will be coming to...instead of 15-20 minute acts broken up by 5 minutes of ads, will we end up watching 15-20 minute ads broken up by 5 minutes of slightly more annoying ads? Bones isn't the only show I've noticed this on - Eureka and Star Gate Universe have done it too.

People are getting paid to wear T-shirts that advertise companies, or wrap their cars in 'skins' that make them movable bill boards...what's next? I wonder, in the future, will it be easier to get a book contract if your story manages to plug a major product?

A new month

So my MiniNano ended with a whimper rather than a bang. A bout of food poisoning [not from Eggoes] sidelined me for the last day in which I planned to power through the ending of my second novella.

All in all I think I did good. One full novella and sixteen chapters of the second one. Now I have to work on the second drafts, which won't be easy since most of my motivation has fled. After being violently ill on Sunday night, my ambition this week is to spend as much time lying on the couch as possible.

Hopefully my NaNo mojo will return once I feel better.

I can't go on...

Without my Eggoes.

Apparently the Eggo waffle shortage will continue until mid-2010. I'm not sure I can handle it.

What food could you not live without if it suddenly came in short supply?

Don't say turkey.

A Holiday Treat

I just got the truly awesome cover art for my December re-release from Samhain.

The Soul Jar is one of my favorite stories...it's a romantic adventure that spilled onto the page so easily.


Here's the blurb:

When Bree Sennett’s search for the fabled Soul Jar of Ammonptah brings her face to face with Mason “Chance” MacKenzie, the pain of his previous betrayal mixes with the joy of finding him alive. When she discovers Chance is after the Soul Jar as well, she’s drawn back into his dangerous world and into his arms again.

Chance MacKenzie left Bree two years ago, faking his own death to save her life and his own. Now the woman who stole his heart is about to steal the Soul Jar, but a life he promised to protect hangs in the balance.

Chance can’t expect Bree to forgive him, or to still love him after what he had to do, but can he trust her to help him complete his mission before he loses her forever?

And the infamous Samhain warning: This title contains too much caffeine, just the right amount of fireworks and a heaping scoop of steal-your-heart Australian hunk.

I'll post an excerpt soon, so stay tuned.

She says it better

Allison Brennan has a truly excellent post over at Murder She Writes about self-publishing, vanity publishing, and why writers should write and editors should edit and publishers should publish. She tells it like it should be.

Kudos Ms. Brennan.

Hero search: Concluded

He got the part.

Mini-NaNo Update: Well, maybe it's more of a full NaNo. I've been writing furiously since late October. One novella finished, and TWELVE chapters on the second, plus the idea rolling around in my head for another [unrelated] story. I've also begun working on the 2nd draft of the first novella which is undergoing a lot of changes because of all the new info I discovered while writing the sequel.

Hell Breaks Loose, Film at 11:00

If you’re a member of the romance publishing community, you know exactly what I’m talking about. And you’ve probably read the equivalent of a few full-length novels worth of words on the subject over the last 48-hours.

I know I have.

I don’t pretend to be an expert on anything, but as a writer, I have a distinct inability to keep my opinions to my self when I have a forum in which to express them. So I’m going to.

Here’s my take on how it went down:

Harlequin announced the opening of their new line – a venture they’re calling Harlequin Horizons, a self-publishing option for romance writers.

Boom. The writing world fell on its’ ear and the impact was heard around the web.

Writer’s everywhere were shocked and most were appalled and they began to talk about it.

Predators and Editors called shenanigans on Harlequin and put a very fine point on what they’d done. Harlequin, the mama of romance publishing, was labeled a Vanity Press. This is major bad.
More talking, blogging, phone calls and general upset ensued.

Harlequin made some statements that sounded smarmy.

Heck broke loose.

RWA stepped up and declared Harlequin no longer part of their approved list of publishers.

Author’s everywhere applauded RWA’s swift response.

MWA – Mystery writers of American and SFWA, Science Fiction Writers of America followed RWA’s lead.

More applause from authors.

Harlequin announced it was shocked by all the bad press and decided it will strip the name Harlequin from its bastard child and call it something else.

Everyone said, “So what? It’s still a vanity press and you are trying to monetize your slush pile and gouge authors by charging them exorbitant amounts of money for things they can do much cheaper, if they want to self-publish.”

Harlequin is now gearing up a rebuttal.

Everyone is waiting to see what hits the fan next.

I’ve got my plastic poncho and a can of Lysol and I’m sitting back to watch the shit storm.

My opinion: Harlequin took a big old knife and cut off its nose to spite its face. Does this affect my writing? Nope. I write for me.

Does this effect how I will submit or to whom? Nope.

I read somewhere that
Harlequin wants more bestselling authors; here’s a new way to find them.

My response to that is, any publisher who wants to find more bestselling authors has only to look a little more closely at their submission piles. There are best selling authors there - tons of them. You won’t find a best selling author by rejecting a manuscript then charging the author to publish it. You find a best selling author by publishing the awesome books that come your way and giving their authors the marketing, editing and promotional support they need to become best sellers. And you pay for that your own self.

I’m mega sick of hearing about new ‘business models’ for publishing that put more and more money into the pockets of publishers, less money into the hands of the authors and more mediocre books on the shelves. Somebody show me a business model that lets me pay my bills and make an honest living as a full time author and I’ll get on board with it.

A welcome distraction

Ever get something in your head and you just can't stop thinking about it? Like the song you can't stop singing, or a movie quote or an image...it's a pain in the neck sometimes, isn't it?

Well, my psyche is currenly being stalked by Joshua Jackson. [Dawson's Creek alum, now starring in FRINGE].

I can't say as I mind. I think he's trying to audition for a role as one of my heroes.


He just may get the part.

New Release Day!

La Vida Muerta
by Jennifer Colgan
ISBN-13: 978-1-60272-611-6 (Electronic)
Genres: Dark Fantasy / Vampire / Paranormal


Elena Talbot betrayed her sister for a chance at immortality. Now, ensconced in the dark world of Chicago's undead, she clings to the person who helped her find herself and her sanity after the gut-wrenching, soul-stealing transformation from human to vampire. Vampire investigator Lucas Vitale has gotten used to having Elena in his home and in his bed. She's always ready for his lusty games, but she's still afloat in a sea of self-doubt and confusion about her new existence. She wants the one thing he can't give her, a purpose. When Elena's quest for fulfillment brings her too close to Lucas's long-hidden secret, he casts her out. Only after she's gone does he realize there's no point in living "the dead life" without her...........Find Out More!

Here's a snippet to whet your appetite for hot vampires:

He’d been ruthless with her, employing techniques of cunnilingus men only learned when they devoted years, and quite often large amounts of money, to learning the art of pleasure.
After using her body so well, though, he’d left her, placed a stolen kiss on her temple and slid his magnificent body from between the pristine sheets. Vampires didn’t sweat, even in the throes of passion.

She’d reached for him, her arm limp, and he’d laughed. “Easy, tiger. I don’t think you can take any more tonight. Can you?”

She forced a sultry growl from her lips. “Sure I can.” Truth was, she didn’t need more sex…well, at least not at the moment. He’d sated her base urges quite well. What she wanted from him now, she didn’t dare admit.

For more...visit Amber Quill/Amber Heat

Mini-NaNo

Well, I suppose my Mini-NaNo is officially over now - but during approximately 15 days I completed an 18-chapter novella and four chapters on the sequel.

I'm going to keep plugging away at the second story and get it finished before I go back and start any revisions. I have to say this has been the most productive two weeks of writing I've had in over a year.

Maybe next year I'll do the full NaNo and see what develops.

Dum and Dummer

So the IDIOTS at Fox cancelled Joss Whedon's Dollhouse.

When are these morons going to learn? First: Anything written by Joss Whedon is genius and needs to be seen by the entire American public, and Second: You don't mess with women who can kick yer candy-asses all over the network.

Sheesh. Some people.

I feel like Nora

Yep. Today I feel like Nora Roberts.

Why, you ask? Not because I am a multi-published best-selling author who has earned the title of Reigning Queen of Romance. Nope. [I wish]

Not because there are millions of copies of my books in prints. Nope. [I also wish]

I feel like Nora Roberts because right now, I don't want to stop writing. I read once, a long time ago, that Ms. Roberts wrote every day. She didn't take breaks or give herself a lot of down time because she was afraid that if she stopped the flow of words, she might not get it back.

That's how I feel today. I'm on a roll. With butter. Today I finished the rough draft of the novella I started thirteen days ago. Finished it.

And I immediately started on the sequel now while everything is still fresh in my mind. I'm still living in this world I created and I'm still loving it, so I'm not going to stop. I'm not going to rest on my laurels or take too much time to pat myself on the back [just a little time]. I'm going to keep plugging away until I get another novella done. THEN, I can rest. Then I'll start working on my revisions and edits and fussy persnickety commas and choosing just the right word here and the right word there, but for now, I'm sailing and I'm not going to stop because I'm afraid if I do I won't be able to start again.

Wish me luck! Mini-NaNo continues!

In the Zone

Maybe it's the time of year, maybe it's just a harmonic convergence. I don't know. But I'm totally in the writing zone.

So far my Mini-NaNo has produced FIFTEEN chapters and the synopsis for a sequel.

It's all handwritten, so I can't say how many words it is, but it's flowing like water.

Now the question is, how do I train myself to write like this all the time?

Fight the fight

On one of my e-mail loops a fellow Amber Quill author posted a link to this blog:

http://writersevolution.blogspot.com/2009/11/e-piracyyou-can-do-something.html

which contains some interesting information on how to combat e-pirates. It's worth taking a look.

Having followed a lot of discussions on how e-piracy affects authors, I've drawn my own conclusions on the best way to deal with them. Even though e-pirates are, in my opinion, stealing from authors, I tend to think the time spent tracking them down, joining their insidiouis little sites, posting cease and desist notices, getting into flame wars with them, getting banned form their sites, etc, also steals something valuable from authors. It steals our time.

As much as I hate to see authors' work [and my own] available for free on pirate sites to people who are actually dumb enough to think I'm wealthy and won't miss hundreds of dollars in royalties, I hate even more to give up my writing time, or time with family to pursue these people, many of whom are based outside the country and are technically not subject to many of the laws that govern intellectual property, not to mention common decency. My time is much more valuable than that. It's just too frustrating for me to spend hours or days hunting criminals on line. That's why this blog is interesting. It makes the process a little less intimidating and hopefully shows authors how to send information directly to the people who are better equipped to do something about the pirates.

What is your policy on dealing with pirates? Do you take time to hunt them? Do you join pirate sites so you can post cease and desist notices? Do you ignore them?

If you could do something to stop piracy that was guaranteed to work, what would you do? I would scour the pirate sites for e-mail addys and URLs of any users and fine each one of them the entire amount due to all publishers for each copy of every book downloaded. So rather than having to pay for one copy of a book illegally downloaded, a user would get hit with the bill for all the downloads from the entire site. Then let them prove which books they DIDN'T steal.

Yeah, it's a fantasy.

So that's my mini-rant for the day. Speaking of mini--

Mini-NaNo progress - NINE Chapters.

The creature in the closet

You never know what might be lurking in the linen closet. Always bring your camera with you.

Mini-NaNo progress - 4 chapters!

Best of the Best!

I try not to post twice in one day, mostly because I only have so much to say and I like to spread it out, but since I can officially annouce it now, I just had to come back and crow a bit.




The Matchmakers came in second place in the Best of the Best eBook Contest at the Editor Jennifer Blog!*


You can drop by Editor Jennifer to see what she had to say about the book, and stay tuned for info on my prize, an AudioBook version to be produced by AudioLark.

All this month Editor Jennifer has been posting the finalists in the contest. The Matchmakers was up against some stiff competition, so I'm thrilled to have been one of the final winners.

*Note: Though my name is Jennifer and I am an editor, I am not Editor Jennifer. Just sayin'.

Bummerz

It actually rained on Halloween. Not all day, but once it got dark - you know when the die hard trick-or-treaters come out - boom. Poured.

Our last trick-or-treaters showed up around 7:00 PM, leaving us with most of the candy we bought for the occasion. The kids came home with truck loads of their own loot - apprently people in the neighborhood, knowing there would not be a good turnout, were giving away handfuls of stuff.

Not that I planned to diet between now and New Year's...but there goes any possibility of losing so much as an ounce.

The upside of Halloween was that while everyone was out, and I stayed home to give out candy, the bell rang so few times that I managed to write a chapter and a half of my min-NaNo WIP. Yay me!

In other news...

A couple of months ago we saw a commercial being filmed at our local Dunkin' Donuts and today DH came across the commerical on TV. The art of video editing is pretty cool, I must say, since they removed an entire office complex from the background and put trees behind the building instead. If you watch commercials, look for the one where the guy is giving a hay ride tour and they pull into a Dunkin' Donuts.

I torture pumpkins

That's my favorite part of Halloween. The carving of the Jack-o-Lantern.


You wouldn't think I would enjoy it so much, since I love pumpkins in their natural, whole, orange, gourdy state, but I do derive a fiendish type of joy from plunging a ten-inch long knife into the virgin flesh of a big 'ol halloween squash.


I decided to record this year's bloody experiment for posterity, so here goes - The Death of Bartholemew J. Pumpkin.





He starts out in very nice shape for someone who is both round and squat. He looks happy, doesn't he?

Now, not so much. The interrogation went well. I got him to spill his guts without too much trouble. Bwahahahhaha

Ol' Bart turned out to be a bleeder though. Things got messy real quick.

The operation wasn't much of a success...but I did manage to get a black cat to grow out of his brain.

Next year, I'll try for bats.

What's your favorite part of Halloween?

Collected tidbits and Captain Tightpants

Yes, I did make it back from NJRW – I just haven’t had time to post until now.

The weekend was...an adventure to say the least. Fortunately, I had my usual awesome roommate, Jen Baum, so even when the fire alarms went off at 4:00 AM Saturday morning [and at 5:00...and at 6:00] and we found ourselves standing outside in our pajamas in the rain while crow-bar wielding firemen wandered among us, we were still having a great time.

I originally thought I would devise a series of posts about things I learned at conference, but considering the main thing I came home with was a renewed desire to write, write, WRITE – I’m not sure how much time I’ll have for blogging. So maybe I’ll just summarize the important takeaway points:

There are no absolutes in writing. I sat in a workshop where a well known, best selling author insisted to us that we should NEVER write a prologue and NEVER write an epilogue. I also sat in a workshop where a well-known best-selling author told us we should do whatever works for the story.

You have to make the time. I know this already, but it bears repeating because it’s very easy to lose sight of it. The published authors I heard from were all dedicated to their writing schedules. Without the drive to get things done, the money train never leaves the station.

Plain old promo doesn’t work. I don’t know how many piles of card-stock type book marks, printed press releases and book flats I saw that no one seemed to touch. If you want people to take your name home with them, give them a pen, a charm, a candle, a toy, a keychain, a pad of paper...basically any little object they might get some use out of. If you’re determined to go with a postcard, business card or run of the mill laminate book mark, at least attach it to a piece of candy. Chocolate gets attention. Cardboard does not.

Write the synopsis first. I know. This one hurts. I HATE synop...well. I don’t have to tell you. You know how I feel about synopses. They are vile, hateful, terrible, awful devices of torture that make me cringe in horror. Write them first. Get them out of the way, then the joy of typing ‘The End’ won’t be marred by the horror of having to sit down and write a book report about your own damn book. There should be a law.

Always check your ice bucket for holes. This one is self-explanatory.

If I think of anything else, I’ll post it. In the mean time, I’m off to work on edits for the sequel to SKIN.

Bon Voyage!

Well, I evicted Onyx from my luggage, packed, unpacked, repacked, unpacked and decided I could fit everything in the smaller suitcase. Yay me! There's more room than you think, when you don't have a cat in there.

I have all my paperwork, my goodies for the goodie room, my spending money and my comfy shoes [and a pair of not so comfy shoes too]. I'm all ready to go.

For anyone who plans to be at NJRW's Put Your Heart in a Book Conference this weekend, look for me - I wear a sticker that says JAC and I hang out near any chocolate fountains, chocolate cakes, chocolate cookies or chocolate covered strawberries.

I also do my best to avoid the damnable, infernal, Balloon Arch of Satan which they insist on putting up in the lobby every year. Why couldn't they do something cool like a Stargate?? No, it has to be freakin' balloons. Shoot me.

I'll be back Monday, bright-eyed and bushy-tailed. See ya then!

It's hard to pack

With a cat in your luggage.

I'm trying to get ready for NJRW and the minute I put my suitcase out, I had fine furry friends investigating and setting up residence. I wish I could take my furbabies with me, but I don't have room to pack a litter box.