A Labor of Love

Happy Labor Day everyone! I hope you all enjoyed the day. I was busy pretty much all day, and my work isn't over yet.

As promised, today I have an excerpt from my newest release, Icarus Rising, available TODAY at Liquid Silver Books!

WARNING! The following is an R-rated excerpt.

Every nerve in Caleb’s body burned. White hot flames seemed to emanate from the point just below the nape of his neck where the symbion had plunged its siphon into his spinal column.
This was supposed to be safe and painless! His panicked brain supplied only snippets of his conversations with Raymond Danson and Arilani.

The average Icarian is ten years of age when they are joined to a symbion. The process takes only a few moments and appears to be completely painless. Danson’s words echoed, mixing with Arilani’s assurances.

The siphon pierces the sheath around the spinal cord of the host and creates an instant connection. Within minutes, the young Icarian gains control over the symbion wings and launches into the sky for his or her virgin flight.

Through a blurry haze of shock, Caleb registered the feel of hands on his body, turning him over, wiping sand from his eyes and his lips.

Someone shouted his name. Danson. Bastard. Caleb wanted to wrap his hands around the man’s throat and choked the life out of him for this. Fortunately for the geneticist, Caleb couldn’t so much as control his own breathing at this moment or he would be homicidal from the pain.

“Don’t move him. Let his body and mind adjust.” Jidar’s deep voice cut across the jumble of worried exclamations that filled the air. Was that Zara crying? Caleb tried to look for her, but all he managed to do was flop his head to one side and spit salty liquid into the sand. Blood. Had he bitten his tongue? Or were his insides dissolving from the fire racing through his veins?
Vaguely, he registered movement on each side of him. The violet-tinged gray wings of his symbion flapped ineffectively, throwing wet sand in all directions. A naked Icarian female held one of the quivering limbs in her hand and administered an injection.Caleb felt it. The slim needle pierced flesh and muscle that had only moments ago belonged to a separate being. He screamed again as ice flowed from the injection site, numbing the wing and that entire side of his body.

Someone sat on his legs, and he couldn’t imagine why until he began to convulse. His body heaved against the half-dozen people now holding him down. Each movement stripped his nerves raw as though he were being flayed alive.

The sand under him felt like a million diamond-hard blades. The salt breeze stung his eyes like acid.

A gentle caress on his thigh brought him instantly aware in a different way. A surge of desire spread through him, tightening his abdominals as female hands slid over his skin. Pain became pleasure so intense he moaned and shifted his hips toward the sensual touch. He smelled her arousal, a willing mate so close he could see her, yet his eyes refused to focus. His brain told him he needed her to complete him. He needed her body wrapped around his, eager to receive the seed that drew up inside his cock, and pulsed to a shuddering orgasm... Hot semen spewed over his belly and his legs and in his ear Zara’s sweet voice whispered to him.

The violent release left him temporarily weak and light headed. His body ached all over from the exertion brought about by no more than her fingers brushing the taut muscles of his leg.
Oh God. Oh God. He’d just come in front of every single member of the research team.
“We’ll take care of you. You’ll be all right. We’ll make it stop.”

He wanted her. He wanted her so badly that he would die without her. “I nee ... I need...”
“Give him air. Let him talk. Caleb, what are you feeling?” Danson’s voice grated like screeching turbines in his ears. He snarled a response, and some of the hands clamped over his limbs loosened their grip.

Something in the back of his mind told him it was time to fly. Being held against the ground was unconscionable torture. He had to get away. A burst of raw power erupted from somewhere in his ravaged brain, clearing the numbness from the left side of this body. For an instant he was invincible.

He tore at the hands clutching him and heaved himself up on shaky legs. Figures crowded around him, Icarian and human. They blurred together in one homogeneous threat.

Only Jidar was smiling.

Caleb spread his wings. His wings. They’d always been his, and they always would be. He crouched, and before anyone could make a move to stop him he launched himself into the air. The alien part of his brain rejoiced. “We are free!”

“We are finally free,” he agreed. “And they will never control us again.”

He circled the beach once, swooping low just to hear the startled exclamations of those assembled. Some scattered, others ducked. The Icarians only stared, expressions of triumph and curiosity blending on their faces. At the edge of the crowd, though, one figure stood alone.
Tears glistened on Zara’s face as she pressed two fingers to her lips and raised them into the wind.

He wanted her. And when he returned, he would finally have her, but for now he had to go as far away as he could or risk taking revenge on the people who had tried to kill him.

To find out more about Icarus Rising, visit Liquid Silver Books today!

Are you ready to fly?

My first title from Liquid Silver Books will be available on Monday, September 6th. Here's the stunning cover art by April Martinez. 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?

Stay tuned for an excerpt and purchasing info!

SEPTEMBER!

Sorry to yell, but I'm soooo happy August is over. I know - I must be nuts. Summer is awesome...yada yada. But really, August just seems to be hot and long and dry and listless. I never enjoyed August and I'm always thrilled when it's over and September begins. Don't get me wrong, today is just as hot and dry as yesterday was, but there's just something more energetic about September. I get energized and I want to get things done.

Anyone else out there love September? Give me a shout and we'll do the September Happy Dance together.

Everybody loves cats

Even wild monkeys, apparently. Loving this story about a wild macaque who adopted a stray kitten. It does not get cuter than this.

Comparison shopping

Two ways to increase the wardrobe:


Bought for $40.00 at Dress Barn: two 3/4 sleeve button down shirts



Bought for $20.00 at garage sales: 2 fancy shirts, 2 gauzy shirts, 4 short sleeve t-shirts, 1 three-quarter sleeve t-shirt, 1 pair of pants, 2 button down shirts, 8 sleeveless t-shirts.

This is why I'd rather go to a garage sale than to the mall. Have you gotten anything awesome at a garage sale lately?

Guilty pleasures

Currently I’m reading The Island by Elin Hilderbrand. Her books have become autobuys for me and the funny part is, I realized I like her books so much because they’re so different from the books I typically read, edit and write.

Ms. Hilderbrand writes about the wealthy and privileged who tend to live on or near Nantucket – where she herself lives. She seems have great insight into the desperate lives of the people the rest of us may envy for their money, their opportunities and the views out of their beach house windows. Her books are compelling and the fascinating thing is, her characters are not likable. At least to me.

I’m a big one for reminding authors whose books I edit that their hero and heroine need to be likable and sympathetic. The worst thing you can do in a romance novel [aside from kill one of them off] is to make either of the main characters do something that will have readers jeering and hoping the other one kicks them to the curb. Secondary characters can be as nefarious as you want but the leads have to be people we would invite into our homes, serve a cup of coffee and insist they tell us all their woes. They need to be people we not only like, but that we like so much we root for them to fall in love and live happily ever after.

Ms. Hilderbrand doesn’t write romance. She writes women’s literature which often contains romantic subplots, but the stark beauty of her books is that I love them even though I’ve never once identified with or rooted for any of her characters. They all seem to have too much of everything. They’re wealthy, attractive, talented and usually sit within arm’s reach of all they ever wanted – yet they manage to find ways to screw up their lives and do a lot of whining about it and feeling sorry for themselves along the way. They’re people you want to smack.

Yet I can’t put the books down. And I realize I feel guilty about this because reading her books for me is like reading a gossipy letter from a friend – ‘remember so-and-so? Well, you’ll never guess what happened to her. Can you believe this?’ In real life, it’s feeding the green eyed monster, getting your jollies when someone who sits well above you on the ladder of ‘success’ turns out to have dirty clay feet. In real life, it’s bad – but in book form – pure heaven.

Do you have any favorite authors whose books make you feel guilty because you wonder if maybe you enjoy them for the wrong reasons? Is there a wrong reason to enjoy a good book?

It's one cat-tastrophe after another

Vampire kitty complains about the size of his coffin.

Floccinaucinhilipilificate with me

Come on. You know you want to.

At lunch today my daughter handed me an index card with this word on it.

Floccinaucinihilipilification : noun, the act of declaring something worthless.

Apparently it's the longest word in the English language that does not contain the letter 'e'.

When I read this, I immediatley thought of this article which I'd seen last week. Nothing fits floccinaucin...whatever, better than the literary product of a member of the cast of The Jersey Shore.

So what would you like to floccinaucinihilipilificate? In addition to anything written by Snookie, I think we should consider nominating all sesquipedelian words for floccin...whatever...fication. Who's with me?

Wonderland 2 ways

I've always been interested in viewing the same story from different viewpoints. I like to get a different take on things now and then and last week I was able to do that with the classic Alice in Wonderland.

I started out watching Syfy's rendition of the story - Alice, starring Caterina Scorsone as Alice and Andrew-Lee Potts as Hatter.






Then I watched Tim Burton's big screen adaptation of Alice in Wonderland with Mia Wasikowska as Alice and Johnny Depp as Mad Hatter.

I was very surprised to find I liked Syfy's version much better.

While I think Tim Burton tried to remain true to the original story, Syfy did one of their 'bold re-imaginings' which I normally don't enjoy. They made wonderland more of an alternate universe rather than a dream land. They gave it some science and ramped it up to the 21st Century. In addition, Syfy made their story a romance - by making Hatter the unlikely hero of the piece rather than just another bizarre character in a parade of bizarre characters.
While I'm not a Depp fan to begin with, I found that besides the wild makeup and merry-go-round of accents, his character didn't seem as invested in Alice as Potts's Hatter was. The growth of their relationship made the Syfy version a much more entertaining story, despite the relatively low budget when compared to Burton's visual smorgasbord.
If you've seen both movies, I'd love to know what you thought of them. In general do you like to compare versions of a story - or once you have a favorite do you prefer to stick to that?

Alice and Hatter from Syfy's Alice.

New in Print!

My very first Ellora's Cave Print Book is now available!

TAMING A ROGUE includes:

Rogue Theta
Lilliana's mission is to neutralize a rogue super-soldier. Abandoned after an alien raid that decimated his outpost, the cybernetically enhanced Theta represents a threat to galactic security. When Lilliana locates her target, she discovers he's more than a rampaging war machine. His sensual touch unleashes her deepest desires and she begins to question the ethics of her mission the moment she looks into his eyes.Lieutenant Commander Benjamin Gaige gave up his name, his home and his freedom to volunteer for the Theta project because he thought he had nothing left to lose. Now, with his cybernetic implants on the verge of complete breakdown, his only hope is to avoid hurting anyone before his autonomic functions shut down completely.The beautiful assassin sent to kill him piques more than his curiosity, though. Her supple body and intoxicating scent set Gaige's long-suppressed needs against his enhanced survival instincts. The man he once was is drawn to the sexy huntress whose mission is to destroy him at any cost. Who will survive and who will become the hunted?

Rogue Heart
A Chi-series-enhanced human, Onika can seduce any man, but the fatal flaw in her biological programming is that she falls in love with her targets. When Zed, the enigmatic scientist who created her, wants to see her, she chances a reunion, determined to convince him to change her biological programming and free her from her enslavement to chemical lust.

When she finds Zed has been brutally murdered, she feels relief and terror. No one can save her now, least of all Aidan Fynn, the attorney assigned by Central Command to represent her. Given into Fynn’s mercurial care, Onika faces the greatest challenge of her life to not fall hopelessly in love and lust with the former soldier once he learns the only way to gain her trust is to take her to his bed.

ON SALE NOW - at http://www.jasminejade.com/p-8618-taming-a-rogue.aspx

It's Deja Vu all over again

Do you read books more than once?

I used to. I had a number of books that I loved and read over and over again – chief among them, believe it or not, was Splinter of the Mind’s Eye by Alan Dean Foster. This was a Star Wars story written back when no one even knew Luke and Leia were brother and sister. I devoured it and I could even recite the opening lines…

But I digress. After a while I gave up reading books more than once. I just didn’t have time and there were so few books I loved enough to go back and start at the beginning. Some that I’ve tried to read again haven’t kept my interest the way they did the first time around.

Yesterday, I finished Deja Dead by Kathy Reichs, and it wasn’t until the last chapter of the book that I realized I had definitely read it before.

In the beginning of the book there are a few details of a grisly murder that rang strangely familiar, but I figured hey, serial killers are often trite and cliché, they copy the crimes of others, so maybe this killer just happened to be similar to a killer in another book I’d read once.
I read happily on, actually enjoying the book and finally, when I got to the big reveal at the end, one of the details of why the killer killed struck me as completely unique. This wasn’t something two authors had come up with. I’d definitely read the whole book before.

I’m more upset with my failing memory than with the idea of rereading a book I’ve already read when I could have been reading something else. I enjoyed the book, and enough time has obviously passed that I really thought I was reading something new. Maybe I should start making notes on the books I read, because I tend to forget plots pretty quickly.

I haven’t forgotten Splinter of the Mind’s Eye, though. I can still picture the boggy jungle planet, the glimmering read crystal and the underground lake. I’d actually love to read the book again, but my dog eared copy is long gone.

Have you ever read a book twice without realizing it? Or do you have a better memory than I do. Good thing no one needs to know what I had for dinner last night. I’m not sure I can recall that either.

Loftier aspirations

Yesterday I attended a 3-year-old’s birthday party. Well, a party for two three-year-olds actually. Twins. They’re quite a hoot, these two, and I get a kick out of some of the things they say.

Yesterday’s giggle came from asking them the question, “What do you want to be for Halloween?”

The little girl’s answer was fairly typical. ‘A Tinkerbell Ballerina.’ Of course, what little girl doesn’t want to dress up as a fairy and dance around?

The little boy won the day though. His response?

“I want to be a potato.”

'What kind of potato?'

“A mashed potato.”

I can see the fun his parents will have explaining that one on people’s doorsteps. ‘What’s that on his head?’

“A pat of butter of course.”

The kid definitely marches to his own drum.

I remember when my son was little and we asked him what he wanted to be when he grew up, his first response was: An apple.

I had visions of people asking me, “So, Mrs. Colgan, what does your son do for a living?”

“He’s a professional apple. In college he minored in orange but apple is his real calling. And on the weekends, he jams with a bunch of grapes.”

Sometimes I think I missed my own calling by spending three quarters of my life aspiring to be a novelist. I should have just followed my true love and become a chocolate bar.

We could use some new classics

Don't you think?

I'm sure there are hoardes of bibliophiles out there who will stock up on the rotten tomatoes to lob at my blog after this post, but here goes anyway.

When will we stop torturing kids with the 'classics' of literature and let them read some newer, and hopefully more interesting stuff?

My daughter's summer reading assignment was Catcher in the Rye, which she just slogged her way through. She confessed she hated the book, and she felt much the same way about the books she had to read last summer too. I forget those titles, but they were similar intruments of brain cell destruction. [No offense to Salinger fans, but I have yet to meet anyone who actually enjoyed Catcher.]

It really bothers me, not that these old standards have managed to endure for all these years, but that at a time when there are so many things vying for our kids' attention, schools still insist on a diet of maudlin, depressing, confusing literature. I'm not saying that none of these books have any merit, but when the majority of kids hate what they're reading, how are we going to ever hope to turn out a new generation of book lovers?

I was lucky that despite having been made to read Atlas Shrugged in high school, which I recall as eight million pages of boring after boring after boring, I still loved to read. I adored Gone with the Wind and War and Peace and Little Women. I was the kid who spent all my allowance on books. I'm also lucky that my daughter likes to read, and spends a good deal of her own allowance on books [though a lot of them are manga].But not every kid out there has a taste for reading, and why should they these days when TV, video games and iPods command the lion's share of their brain power?

I'm not suggesting we make Harry Potter and [heaven for fend, Twilight] mandatory reading, but I'm sure there are some fun and interesting books out there that teenagers and pre-teens can learn more from than how to buy Cliffs Notes.

Anyone have any suggestions?

The Kebox Paradox

I'm forced to confess that I'm a babe in the woods when it comes to the produce department at the supermarket. I wander around there ooohing and aaahing at all the pretty fruits and vegetables and I have been known on many occasions to bring home some exotic plant material just because it had a funny color or funny shape or strange name.

Today was one of those days.

DS and I were shopping [I got the kid out of the house!] and we came across a huge crate of dark green bowling balls for sale. They were sitting next to a crate of odd looking objects that faintly resembled cantaloupes but with stripes. These things were solid dark green and they weighed a ton.

The sign above them said: KEBOX MELONS $3.99 each.

Okay. Not a bad price for a bowling ball. I conferred with DS who was noncomittal about trying a new and exotic fruit. He's always worried about getting a mouthful of something that doesn't taste good, so he often refrains from trying new things. Finally, being the adventurous Mom that I am, I talked him into it and we carefully lowered one of them into the cart, which immediately began to list to one side.

The thing was heavy. DS took it back out of the cart and hauled it over to the produce scale where it made the dial spin around wildly like a compass in the Bermuda Triangle. It landed on 9 pounds, which is awfully hefty for a melon. I knew this had to be good, so we lobbed it back into the cart and off we went to the checkout, both of us pushing the cart.

I got the thing home and spent some time just admiring it, imaging what jewelike flesh might appear once I cut it open. I fantasized about the exotic flavors we might discover and what interesting recipes I might find when I learned all the ins and outs of the mysterious KEBOX.

I brandished my carving knife and sliced...and found out I'd bought...
a watermelon.

Apparently whoever was in charge of writing signs at the supermarket could not separate the I and the C, thus smushing them together to form a K.

It was an Icebox melon. Sigh.

So there went my plan to conquer the new world of the exotic KEBOX. The upside is, I probably would have paid a lot more for it when I believed it was some alien fruit sensation, so $3.99 was stil a bargain.

Evolution of a submission

So yesterday I psyched myself up and prepared a query letter to send to an editor I've been wanting to contact for a while.

I did all the usual pre-sub stuff. I obsessively checked the letter, obsessively checked the spelling of the editor's name, though I've submitted to this person before and gotten it right. I re-read the query submission guidelines on the publisher's website and doube checked the e-mail address, then triple checked the e-mail address.

I checked the wording of the query again, looked for spelling errors, saved the query to my Word files making sure I changed the file name so I didn't accidentally erase something I might need in the future.

I copied and pasted all the proper text into an open e-mail, double checked the wording of the subject line, and the editor's addy one more time, made sure to update my address and phone number and double checked everything again. Obsessive much? Me? Nah.

Then I hit send.

I breathed a small sigh of relief and told myself it was all up to the universe now. Knowing I could reasonably expect a response in three or four months, I went about my business.

About 20 minutes later, I found myself opening my e-mail account. Two thoughts went through my mind, one being I was hoping for a reply from a friend I'd been e-mailing with trhoughout the day and the other thought was, "Oh, here I go, back on the obsessively checking e-mail ride."

I watched as my e-mail account pulled up new mail and deposited it in my inbox. A digest from one of my publisher groups, no biggie. And something with the very same subject line as the e-mail I'd just sent to the editor.

Oh crap. I e-mailed the query to myself.

I've done this before. It's the ultimate 'just shoot me' feeling. I mean, how dumb can I really be?

Moments before my head hit the desk, I realized the 'From' addy was the editor's, not mine. The editor had responded to the query.

In 13 minutes.

And asked for the full.

Giddy, mildy hysterical laughter ensued for a moment. Then I replied to the request, attached the full manuscript and hit send.

Now back to obsessively checking my e-mail. Rinse and repeat.

Doin' the toner dance

So yesterday I actually finished a novella!!

Got a little elbow strain from patting myself on the back. I got to the end of the first draft of the sequel to Icarus Rising [my upcoming Liquid Silver release]. Icarus Unbound is now ready for the first round of editing. Hurrah!

Of course, I needed to print it out - I like to curl up with hard copies of my manuscripts to do first round editing, this way I can physically cut and paste things. Sometimes the old fashioned way just works better.

I was six pages to the end of the printing and my toner cartridge crapped out on me.
Never fails. I haven't printed more than 1 page at a time in last six months so I guess the strain was too much for it.

I had to take the cartridge out, shake it all about, and put it back in to get two more pages. Then I had to do it all over again. And again, until I finally got the last of the pages to print. I'm ever so glad I didn't double space.

Now DH is out at the movies with the kids, and then he's going to swing by Staples and pick me up a new cartridge.

Have you ever done the toner dance?

I'd keep a spare on hand, but darn they're expensive. Maybe I'll ask for one as a Christmas present so this doesn't happen again.

Then again, if I'd had a spare, I would have just popped the old one out and replaced it, and I wouldn't have squeezed those last six pages out.

I write like...

I just came across this on one of my author loops and decided to try it out.

Apparently you put in a few paragraphs of something you've written and the analysis tells you which author you write like. I entered the first few paragraphs of my 2011 Samhain release, Uncross My Heart and here's what I got:

I write like
Dan Brown

I Write Like by Mémoires, Mac journal software. Analyze your writing!

I'm not sure if I should be flattered or worried. What do you think?

Who do you write like?

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.