Getting My Butt out of the Recliner

I have it on good authority that there are plenty of writers--including myself here--who write on laptops and do it from *shudder* their recliners. Having the mini laptop makes writing in my recliner even more seductive. However, I know my best word counts came from the days of sitting in my office in a task chair. Here's the problem: I also have a new kick-ass laptop which is even faster than my wonderful HP Mini 1000 (XP). When it came time to replace the old Dell desktop computer in my office--it was only six years old--I bought a Dell laptop instead. *insert record scratch here*

Don't get me wrong I love the new Dell laptop, but ergonomically speaking working at the desk with a laptop wasn't comfortable. It didn't work well with the pullout tray and I didn't like having it on the desk. It wasn't comfortable to use. There were days I didn't even boot up the sucker. We won't even go into the Vista operating system where I'm still learning my way around. Or the Touchpad which is to sensitive that it changes my screen size at will and the cursor hops all over creation.



But I found the perfect solution. Of course it cost me a little extra money, but not too much. I purchased a wireless keyboard and mouse (Logitech). It took about sixy seconds--if that--to install, and now I can use the keyboard and mouse on the pullout tray which is much more comfortable to my neck and shoulders.


So as of this morning, I'm back in the office, my butt in the chair and writing this blog. My iPod is playing something classical right now, and my lavender candle is burning. I'm officially in the zone.


Now you say, "when will you use your mini?" I use it to surf, read e-mail especially industry related e-mail, Tweet. Because of it's small size, it's perfect to take when I head to Kentucky to see my mom. It has wireless, so I'm set no matter where I am. It's also the one I take to bed at night to goose a few more words into my current WIP.

So...where do you write? Confess. You can tell me all about it.

Marie-Nicole

Being a writer…

Contrary to what some might have been led to believe, it is NOT sitting wrapped in a feathered boa, being fanned by bronzed hunks while a sexy male sits beside me peeling grapes—nice thought though!

I have been asked to describe what its like to be a writer. I struggle with my typical answers: hearing voices, feeling pulled in one direction despite a desire to move in another, etc.

Then I was watching Nim’s Island—for those of you who haven’t seen it YOU SHOULD! Anyway, watching Jodi Foster’s character chat with her hero I went EUREKA! THAT’S IT! That is how it is for me. With most all of my characters I see them, smell them, feel them and converse with them—just like she did in the movie. (However most of her other quirks—spiders, germs, agoraphobia—don’t apply to me…)

Of course, admitting that I see and chat with imaginary people has caused some alarm…My mom and I were shopping and at the check out counter I mentioned something about hearing the voices. I thought nothing of it, finished my transaction and moved out to smoke while mom was checking out. The sales girl says, “Does she really hear voices?” alarm was clearly written on her face and filling her voice. Mom smiles and says “Oh yes—she’s a writer, you see.” Apparently, it didn’t make sense to the cashier…

When my characters don’t step out of my head, sit and chat, that’s when I have problems. Right now I’m so stifled I’m not sure I’ll ever be able to coax them out again. I really hope they’ll pop back soon. It’s lonely sitting here at the computer staring at the blank file knowing I should be writing but not able to accomplish anything…

Here’s hoping it breaks soon!

Talk to y’all again in a couple of weeks!

Hugz
Donica

And We're Off

Yep, it's time. I got my first copy edits for my short story, Mission of Christmas, coming out with Lyrical Press this fall. (Though it's not yet listed on the Lyrical website yet).

And while I love my editor to death, she's the best in the world, she wants me to make a rather large change in the backstory of a major character. Her suggestion has merit, that I do agree with, and her reasoning is logical and sound. Yet, I kinda don't want to change it.

So now I get to spend the next day or two trying to come up with a compromise to what the editor suggested, making both her happy and me happy as well.

I love a challenge. Every book I do, there's always something I have to change, adjust, twist, or tweak to make the story better. And I get the typical "can you change..." and I stare at it, and in my head go "WHOA? How do you expect me to pull that one off?" Then I sit back, and think about it.

And usually the editor's right.

Fantasy Girl is a perfect example of that--when I sold it, the editor asked me to make a huge change.

Change the entire ending.

I stared at my computer for a good fifteen minutes, wondering how in the world I would be able to accomplish that particular feat. And do it in two weeks? Not hardly.

Well, when I thought about it, and got to work on it, not only did I finish it in the required two weeks, but the ending was a thousand times better than what I'd written.

So with Mission of Christmas, while I'm still somewhat attached to my original idea, I am going to spend the next twenty-four to forty-eight hours seeing what I can come up with.

And odds are, it'll work better that way anyway.

Putting Yourself in a Book

I get this question out loud, probably less than people think it to themselves:

Is the heroine of the book YOU?

I have to say no, because while I am writing I put myself in the heroine's head... but then if I write in the hero's POV, I have to be in his head too.

Maybe I give them quirks that are familiar to me though. Like the love of tiramisu... or the knowledge of something that I am familiar with (as opposed to things I do research about). They may DO things that I have done and I might write their reactions from the memories I have.

But the characters are not ME.

Heavens, if the characters were ME, they'd all be so busy with families and hobbies and work that no one would believe they were real. In fact, in my books, the few times I have had a reader say a scene contained something that is not possible in real life-- those have been the things I actually lived. Figures ; )

What Authors Do In Between Books

Two weeks ago I finished what I affectionately called the wip-from-hell. It wasn't that it was a badly written story, it was more like pulling teeth to get the story out of my head and onto paper in a coherent way. Many times I found myself bashing my head against the desk in frustration. But when it all came together, I must say it came together beautifully.

Since it took half the summer to finish the last fifty pages (see what I mean? It was the wip-from-hell!) I promised myself that I would take the rest of the summer off before hopping back into another story. After all, my poor kids hadn't been anywhere or done anything fun and exciting. I owed it to them.

Except, as soon as I typed The End, my mind started whirling with possibilities for the next book. Mentally I made lists of books I needed to read for research. I started thinking about my characters, their quirks, their motivations, their conflicts. How could I thrust them together then tear them apart? How could I torture them?

And what about that other story? The one that's written but needs some major/minor overhauling? What can I do to make it better?

Oh, oh and the pirate story? The one that's so close to my heart but needs some tweaking to make it more believable? I think I've figured it out. Maybe.

But wait. I'm supposed to be not writing. I'm supposed to be taking it easy, reading all those books in my TBR pile, cleaning out drawers, cooking the fabulous meals I didn't have the energy for when I was in the throes of the final pages of the last book.

Except, what if I changed my hero's motivation just a little? Oh, how that will make the story more rich, more real...

-----
Sharon Cullen
www.sharoncullent.net

Really Late!

It's really late in the day. I've been running around like a nut all day and almost forgot to blog.

Anyway, I'm here to promote, promote, promote today. On August 2, 2009 I'll have my first release with Amber Quill Press and I couldn't be more excited. Here's a little excerpt from my latest romantic suspense entitled Northern Lights.


Nathan perused the racks of outerwear looking for one in an extra small. Considering women didn’t fish for crab, it wasn’t likely he’d find one, which presented a slight problem. If he’d been thinking ahead of time, he’d have taken Brooke to a place in Seattle where he would have had a better chance at outfitting her with what she needed. It was too late for that so he’d simply have to make do.

He pulled a small waterproof jacket off the rack and handed it to Brooke.
She took the garment from him and pulled it over her head. “Can I ask why I need this stuff if I’m not going to be on deck?”

Since they’d left Seattle, she appeared to have worked through her initial fears and seemed to be settling in nicely. Not keen on the idea of flying her back, Nathan was thrilled to see her making the adjustment.

Almost from the moment they’d docked in Dutch Harbor, she’d been full of questions, asking how things worked and why the men did things one way versus another. He’d even noticed at one point how the sadness she often carried seemed to have disappeared. He couldn’t explain why it was gone; he was only glad it was.

“Because, if you should somehow end up on deck--which you shouldn’t--but if you do, I want you in the right gear. Without the appropriate coverage, you’ll easily get soaked to the bone by a single wave over the wheelhouse. The water is just above freezing and it’d take no time for hypothermia to set in.”

She pulled the jacket over her head and held out her arms for his inspection, her lips curled in a playful smile. “It’s a little big.”

Nathan rubbed his chin with his thumb and forefinger, while he inspected the garment. “You’re right and that’s the smallest they come in that brand. Guess we’ll
need to try a different manufacturer.”

She pulled the hooded jacket over her head and handed it back to him. “I’m guessing you don’t get a lot of women up here wanting to fish.”

He placed the jacket back on the hanger and turned her toward another rack a few aisles away. “Not really. If there are any women, they’re usually doing your job, so there’s not really a demand for small sizes.” He scanned the rack and pulled a bright yellow hooded jacket from its hanger. “Here, try this.”

She repeated the process until they’d finally settled on the best fitting gear he could find though, even an extra small it was still a little big on her.

“Okay.” Nathan clapped his hands together. “Now to get you a survival suit. Stay put for a minute while I talk to the clerk.”

He walked toward the counter, catching Brooke watching him while she supposedly perused the racks of outerwear. This probably seemed a bit over the top for her, considering the job was cooking. Maybe she didn’t need all the gear, but knowing she’d have it made him feel better. His reasons were simple--he wanted her prepared for anything.

After briefly speaking with the clerk, he returned to where Brooke stood waiting.
“The suits usually come as a one size fits all, but there sometimes is a noticeable difference in how they fit from one person to the next. While we have several extra on our boat already I’ve seen men twice your size fit in them. I don’t think they’d conform to you the way we need them to. The clerk has a couple of suits from manufacturers that run on the small side. She’s going to dig them out for us. They’ll need to fit like a glove if you’re going to pass the coast guard inspection. I want you to try them on before we decide which one to buy.”

“Here you go, Mr. Lowery. Just let me know which one you want.”

“Thank you,” he said to the sales clerk before turning back to Brooke. He picked up the first bag and held it out for her. “Inside this bag is the one thing that’ll hopefully keep you alive long enough for the coast guard to find you if the boat should sink. Since you’ve never put one of these on before, I’m going to help you.
Be aware you’ll have to learn how to don one without help before you’ll be allowed to sail out with us.” She nodded. “So what do I do?”

Nathan shook the suit free, then unrolled it so it lay flat on the floor. “You need to get in.”

“Do I leave my clothes on?”

He tried not to smile. He really did, but in the end, he couldn’t help himself. “As much as I’d like to get a peek at that gorgeous body of yours, the honorable man in me dictates that I tell the truth. Yes, you leave your clothes on.”

Her lips tilted up at the corners and her cheeks flushed a dusty rose color. He wondered if her skin looked so pink and lovely after making love. Whoa, buddy, back the boat up! Thoughts like that had no room in his head during this trip.

Taking a step back, he worked to shake loose his last mental wanderings as she climbed into the suit and began pulling it up and over her body, punching her arms through each sleeve. “It seems a little loose.”

Trying to keep his mind on the task, Nathan studied the suit. “Yeah, I think you’re right. Don’t bother zipping it. Just take it off and try the other one on.”
She wiggled out of one garment and into the other, and struggled to get her arms in the sleeves. “Is it supposed to be this tight?”

“Yes. The better the fit, the less chance the suit will let icy water in.”
She wrangled her second arm into the sleeve, then groped around for the zipper.

“Here, let me do that.” Nathan reached for the zipper. It was supposed to be a benign gesture meant to help her, but when his hand brushed against her abdomen, sparks raced through his fingers and up his arm. She sucked in a quick breath, and his gaze flicked up to meet hers. Her eyes radiated her surprise and something more. That something more drew him in and pulled at his very soul.

As much as he wanted to deny it, he couldn’t. The attraction was too great, too powerful for him to ignore. Before he even realized he’d done it, his other hand spanned her waist, holding her in place. For a few heartbeats, their surroundings faded away, and he had a sudden overwhelming urge to lean over and kiss her.

“Um…I think I have it now,” she said, breaking the silent link they shared.
Nathan let go and took a much needed step back, giving them both some space. If he didn’t get his renegade emotions under control now, this season was going to be pure hell.

He cleared his throat. “I think that’s the one.”

AVAILABLE AUGUST 2, 2009 AT AMBER QUILL PRESS

Writing a "Red Hots"

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When it comes to writing erotic romance, one of the best selling genres in electronic publishing, it's not very easy. It's not enough to add scorching hot love scenes to your novel. At least it's not enough for my publisher's "red hots" designation. I ought to know because I've tried the former. Too Good to be True was in my mind an erotic romantic suspense, and it even won a 2008 Eppie for contemporary erotic romantic suspense/mystery. But it wasn't a "red hots".







Holding Her Own wasn't erotic enough either because, let's face there was just too much story that didn't involve a sexual journey. An emotional journey--yes. And there were plenty of hot love scenes, but as my wonderful editor phrased it, "it isn't a story about sex."



So I set out to write a short story. Truth be told, I was aiming it for the Harlequin Historical Undone line with a word count of not over 15k. LOL That's how I ended up with a 45k word story called Seducing the Sheriff. Obviously it wasn't going to work for a short story. Luckily my Samhain editor loved it and offered me a contract.

I forgot an important step in the process. Before I submitted the ms to my Samhain editor, I sent it to my pal Jody Wallace who also happens to write erotic romance as Ellie Marvel for Red Sage. She offered some suggestions on story structure--most of which I took. She also told me what I'd have to do to bump it into "red hots" territory--which I did. I rewrote the ms in a marathon nine days and sent it off to my editor who then offered me a contract.

I've finished the first round of edits and I'm eagerly awaiting cover art, but that won't be for a couple of months yet. I will share a preliminary blurb, but don't hold me to it because Samhain has a great blurb writer who'll give it her magic twist.

This gal’s determined to brand the stubborn, hot-blooded sheriff as her own. And she’s not taking “no” for an answer.

Starlight Tyler returns home to Kenton Valley, Texas. A woman on the run from her mother, a Pinkerton, and a wealthy man she doesn’t love, she needs a husband fast. And who better than her long lost love, Cordero Tate?

Sheriff Cord Tate is bent on rounding up the gang of outlaws responsible for the death of his wife and unborn child. The leader of the gang is none other than Star Tyler’s half-brother.

Haunted by the loss of his first wife and child, he’s determined never to marry again, much less make love to another woman and risk impregnating her.

Star’s stubborn and means to get her man, but one moonless night, her past catches up with her. She's kidnapped and forced to the altar by the same wealthy man she ran away from in the first place. Will Cord find her in time, or will he wash his hands of her and say, “Good riddance”?

Of course, writing the kidnapping was the most fun of all to this primarily romantic suspense author. *Big Grin*

Marie-Nicole

Hold on the the ride.

http://marienicoleryan.com

Excitement is building…

Excitement is building…

I leave for my vacation on Saturday and I’m so excited I can barely contain myself! A week in the country, riding ATVs, hiking, swimming, maybe even cave exploration—by my friends, I’m WAY too claustrophobic for caves…This year it will just be myself and my two best friends—no kids! WOOHOOO!

This past week I also made a decision. Most all of my author friends have some sort of logo that when you see it, you know that it's theirs without even reading the name. A friend--whose opinion I trust completely, told me I needed such a thing. I had come up with one--a lovely sunset image my dad took, but it didn't convey what I wanted to convey. Then, I came upon an idea.

Every since I was a little girl whenever I had a bad time, family members ill, heart breaks, confusion over the right decision to make, I had a friend who visited me in my sleep. This friend was a beautiful blond who was so soothing, so comforting, so protective, I felt instantly at peace whenever she came near. She was over 6 feet long, muscular build, large paws--a female cougar. Even though I am a Christian, (it is a contradiction to a point)I believe this cougar to be my spirit guide or totem.

I came up with two designs and shared them with another group looking for input… Here are the images:
1.

2. After all the votes from that group came in, it was overwhelming the choice was #1.

Which one do you pick? Curious minds and all that…

Well, I need to take off. So many last minute things to take care of. I’ll see y’all when I return!

Hugz
Donica

Because Today is beyond Words...

Ever had one of those weeks? I'm having one this week. There's just so much swirling around me today, that I'm just not sure what I need to focus on....

So instead of focusing too much on any one thing, I thought I'd share a little bit of fun I made.

This is partial inspiration for a book I'm working on. This is almost done, and when I'm finished, it will be a sequel to Fantasy Girl--Kind of. It involves some of the same characters as Fantasy Girl, but a few new ones.

Here is my male lead, Hadrian.... A chef on a cooking show, a Duke by title, and a Prince.



















And this is Sydney, a hairdresser from the midwest, who stumbles upon Hadrian in Vegas.










For me, the pictures help me figure out what the characters look like, help me determine who they are a little bit, and give me point of reference. And yes, for those of you who are noticing, Scott Speedman (from Underworld) is Hadrian--with a slight hair color and eye color adjustment. The type of details you wouldn't notice just glancing at the picture, but when I look at it up close, (or on my desktop) I see it immediately... This image has lighter eyes, amber eyes, as a matter of fact.

But I don't really do anything with these images, maybe share with a friend, post on a blog, but mostly they hang out on my desktop--sometimes even on a wallpaper with the story's tag line (if I can come up with one) on it. It helps me stay focused, to remember the emotions I"m working with.

Because stories are about the emotions. At least for me they are.

This weekend I became one of them, one of those women that have animals to keep them company. I was always the one to drop out of an online chat when it turned to pet cats or dogs. It’s not that I hated animals, but when you don’t have animal, it is like listening to parents go on about their children. You can only hear so much.

As I mentioned a few weeks back, I bought a Condo. After decades of apartment living, the price of apartments had finally reached such an outrageous amount that buying became a viable alternative. I am very happy with my purchase. I’m slowly getting it decorated the way I want.

I mentioned in an off hand way to …everyone…that I was considering getting a cat. I like cats, they tend to come around for a late evening cuddle and stay out of the way the rest of the time. (Not unlike myself). My sister took me at my word. She had her dogs groomed and discovered her vet had two litters of kittens looking for homes. I tried to hem haw my way out of committing and she countered all my arguments by providing everything but the food and litter. She passed along cat scratch pyramids, toys, a litter box, cat beds and a cat tent *who knew?*

As you can see from the pictures, I decided one would be a lonely life for a cat and went with sister siblings. The runt and the alpha of the litter are my new housemates. Yes, they are adorable, and entertaining. So how to I get rid of the smell of canned cat food out of the kitchen? That little one, isn’t eating hard food yet. It's an adjustment. Wish me luck.

Rhianna Samuels

BookSigning

Simple Pleasures Books and Gifts in Ashland, VA hosted a booksigning for ROMANCING THE STONES yesterday. It was great fun! The owner of the bookstore and her three daughters run the place, and watching their dynamics was fascinating.

The store is just lovely, wonderful colors and tons of personal touches!

I enjoyed meeting new readers as well as familiar ones : ) Can't wait for the next one!

--Catherine

Chemistry ... and a PG-13 excerpt

I find the most important element in any romance is the chemistry between the hero and heroine. While I might have barely passed Chemistry in high school, I think I do fairly well when it comes to writing about it. ;) Actually, I think I enjoy writing the attraction and the foreplay -- both physical and emotional -- almost more than the actual love scenes.

Here's an excerpt to show you what I mean:

DREAM WALK (c) Meg Allison

He started to move away and she grabbed his arm. "I know I keep telling you I don't need you around…" She sighed. "It's a lie. Please stay."

He cocked his head to one side and studied her face. "I'm not going anywhere, honey. You're stuck with me 'til I say so."

"No…" She looked down at her hand resting on his arm and bit her lip. "I'd like you to stay with me tonight. I don't want to be alone."

His mouth went dry and he realized all she was saying and not saying. Staying with her was what he wanted, but he suddenly wasn't sure he could trust himself so close to her all night long.

"Honey," he licked his lips, "I'm not sure that's such a good idea after—"

"Please?" she begged in a small, throaty whisper. The sexy tone sent blood racing through his veins and straight to his cock.

"Are you sure?"

Camille nodded.

"Okay, I suppose I can do that," he said aloud, more to reassure himself than her. "I'll take the chair."

"Don't be silly, the bed is a queen size, there's plenty of room."

He chuckled nervously. "Samantha likes big beds, doesn't she?"

"I think she comes from a family of giants."

"Yeah," he replied, thinking of his old friend and her six-foot-plus brothers and father. "You wouldn't know it by looking at her, all of five six and—"

"Ian?"

He shut his mouth and stared as he noticed the hunger in her eyes. Damn. How the hell had he gotten himself into this mess?

"Come to bed."

Amazing how three little words could give him such a fast hard-on.

"Cami—"

"I won't attack, Ian. We'll just sleep."

He swallowed. "Do you think we can? I sure as hell don't."

She smiled then—the smile of a woman very pleased with herself. "I'm willing to give it a try."

He stood and pulled the wet T-shirt off over his head and let it drop to the floor. Her gaze lingered the entire time. It felt a bit like performing at Chippendale's. He'd done that once during his first year at the police academy. A buddy bet him he didn't have the balls to take it off on stage in front of a bunch of horny housewives. He not only went through with it, but he went home with four phone numbers, one very interesting proposition and enough cash to live on for a month.

But this was far more enticing with those big hazel eyes staring at him. She didn't say a word as he opened the snap and zipper of his jeans then slid them down. He'd almost gone commando when he realized she had left the house earlier. Now he was immensely relieved that he'd had enough foresight to pull on a pair of black boxer briefs.

"You're staring," he pointed out.

"You're beautiful."

"Men aren't beautiful. Now move over, honey."

She scooted to the far side of the bed and he thought he saw a faint blush color her cheeks.

"Change your mind?" he asked as he slid under the blankets beside her.

"No, of course not." But she was retreating again—pulling away from him both physically and emotionally.

"Camille, I'm tired, you're tired." He slid down onto the pillow but kept a small space between them. "Sleep…I don't expect anything else, honey."

She reached for him then, a determined look lighting her dark eyes. "But I don't want sleep. I want you."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

DREAM WALK is now available in print for all those who prefer their books the old-fashioned way. While it's classified as a paranormal romance, there's also a fair amount of suspense and danger sprinkled throughout. Yes, as I've probably mentioned before, I can't seem to write a romance without adding a little mystery in the mix.

So, if you're looking for a new romantic read to curl up with, DREAM WALK has plenty of sexual tension, actual sex, paranormal elements, and danger.

If you're interested in purchasing DREAM WALK, just click here for some options.

Happy Wednesday!

~~Meg

Indulge your senses...
http://www.megallisonauthor.com

How did you spend your 4th?

In our town, the municipality always does it's fireworks display on the 3rd. Strange yes, but that's just how they do things. For us it means planning our annual cookout on the 3rd instead of the 4th. We do it that way because we live directly behind the school where they hold the event, which means we don't have to leave our back yard to watch the display.

So the week leading up to the 3rd was all about cleaning, organizing and preparing for the celebration. The day came, we all ate too much, drank too much and enjoyed the fireworks without the hassle of having to find parking and negotiating a large crowd. NICE!

The rest of my weekend has been spent doing laundry, watching the Deadliest Catch marathon on Discovery channel and generally relaxing. I read Janet Evanovich's latest book in her Stephanie Plum series and spent some of that time drooling over her character Ranger. (MY GOD IS HE HOT!!!) If you haven't read it yet, I highly recommend it.

I've also taken to the outdoors, bringing my laptop outside onto the patio to enjoy the gorgeous weather here in the North East while watching my little one play in the pool and get some much needed writing done. These right here are the days I dream of in the cold of February when I've just had enough.

So how about it? How did you all celebrate our country's birthday?

Happy Fourth of July

(This is a rerun from last year's Fourth of July post. I hope you don't mind, but it's still appropriate.)

I don't want to get maudlin or worse controversial, but I do have to say how thankful I am to be born in this country and to have the freedom to accomplish whatever I can, taking into consideration my individual time, energy and intelligence.

America is a country of possibilities and choices. While we're not all gifted with the same intelligence, health, or financial beginnings, we are gifted with the ability to make choices along the way. And just because one bad choice is made, it doesn't mean an individual has to keep making them.

This Independence Day I wish for everyone to have a happy and safe holiday. For our soldiers deployed around the world, I wish you safe journey and to return home soon to the families who love and miss you.

Marie-Nicole
http://marienicoleryan.com/

Celebration! We're gonna have a good time...

Yep, I'm singing. Sorry it set all your dogs to howling and your cats to hiding. I can't help it! It's a wonderful start to the month! Why?

Well, I leave for my long anticipated vacation in 16 days--woohoo!!!

AND

Betraying Chase is now available! Yippee!! See why I'm so happy?

Betraying Chase: Gateway Guardians, Book 2
Romantic Suspense
ISBN: 978-1926681-44-0
$4.99
Link: http://tinyurl.com/kp7tk9
Book Video Link: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cB66FXKcOo4

She was hired to kill him, but fell for him instead--ain't love a bitch?

Chase Willet is a DEA agent working from the St. Louis office. He is in the process of destroying the business of a high dealing drug lord, Ramiro Gonzalo Sancho Rivera. They've already put a large chunk in the import train, but it's not enough. They have to take out Rivera to stop the line.

Brandy Montgomery is a red head that swept Chase off his feet. She's sexy, smart and has a secret. Brandy is a hired gun for Rivera. She's spending time softening Chase up so that he won't be prepared for the kill.

When the truth is revealed, she offers to help Chase take down Rivera. Should he trust him? Would you?

How about a little excerpt?

Chase’s eyes flew open, heart racing, palms sweating as he peered through the dark night. Brandy stirred and shifted beside him. She had released all his pent up frustrations, was a bandage for the pain he felt. She had helped assuage the guilt for the death of Cassidy.
For a split second, he considered Devins’ absence proof of the man’s guilty association with the drug smugglers. He pushed the thought back but it refused to go quietly.
Brandy pressed her silky naked body into him and a slender arm came to rest across his chest. The musty smell of their lovemaking clung to her and despite the pain of the day he once more felt the stirring urge for her. He needed to take her, hold her, prove to himself he was still alive, that she was real and not going anywhere.
He rolled over, his hand tracing along her side down to her hip. The bruise made him hesitate. She really did a number on herself. From the look of it she was lucky no bones were broken. He moved down and pressed a kiss against the injury.
She stirred again, but didn’t wake. His hand slid across her stomach and she moaned. He stroked the silky mound of hair. Slipping a finger into her he stroked, eliciting more moaning from her lips.
She still hadn’t awakened but was beginning to arch into his hand. He kissed the space between her breasts, and down her breastbone, along her smooth stomach, when the ringing of the phone ripped into the silence of the room.
“Willet.”
“Chase?”
The somber tone in Bobby’s voice made him sit up. A knot gathered and tightened in his stomach. “It’s Devins, isn’t it,” he didn’t ask but stated.
Bobby sighed. “They just found him. In the river under the Martin Luther King Bridge.”
“Damn,” Chase shouted and nearly jumped off the bed. He raked his hand through his hair, the knot in his gut set his stomach churning. He’d sent them into this mess and they’d paid the price for it.
“Chase? Don’t go there,” Bobby cautioned.
“I want Rivera,” he growled. “I want them all. But I want him most of all.”
“We’ll get him,” Bobby promised.
Chase took a breath and tried to calm his anger. “Who’s notifying the family?”
“I’m up,” Bobby answered grimly.
They alternated who broke the news to the family when they lost someone from the team. He hated it but it was always better to hear from someone who worked and was close to an agent rather than having some generic delivery by a person who only knew the agents name.
“I’ll meet you down there.”
“No. They’re sending him to the morgue and I’ve got to make the visit. I’ll see you when you get in.”
“I’ll see you tomorrow.” Chase glanced at the alarm clock. “In a couple of hours,” he amended.
“Bye.” Bobby hung up without waiting for his reply.
A warm hand caressed his back. “Chase?” Brandy’s sleep thickened voice came from beside him in the dark.
“Go back to sleep.”
She sat up. “Bad news?”
“Bad, but I shouldn’t have been surprised.” He inhaled a deep sigh. Exhaustion weighed him down.
She snuggled into his back and kissed his shoulder blade. “What’s happened?”
He hated letting the job into the bedroom, but couldn’t help it. Brandy lifted the weights off his soul. “Devins. He’s dead.” The constriction in his chest threatened to suffocate him.
Her arms enveloped him, gently squeezing. The strength she poured into him helped lift the elephant off his chest, and the pain in his heart wasn’t quite as sharp.
“It wasn’t your fault,” her soft lips murmured against his skin.
“Maybe it was. I sent them out there.”
“They had a job to do, isn’t that what you tell me? A job to do and you all do it well? This is a risk that each one of you takes every day. Stop beating yourself up. Please?”
He pulled away slightly. A risk they all take? How many more lives would he risk? The uncertainty of it all. The constant worry for her safety, the self-doubt, it was driving him to the point of madness. Brandy shouldn’t be put in this mess.
He sagged into the mattress and she moved closer. “Don’t think about it. You’ll get this all cleaned up, you’ll make a difference. I know it has to be hard loosing them, but honestly Chase, they died trying to make the world a better place for all of us.”
She pressed her lips into him again and he once more felt the weight. In a way she was right, they had died trying to stop the poison that was filling the streets. She was also wrong. They shouldn’t have died to make the difference. “I’m going to get Rivera and his men. I swear I will. I’ll bring down anyone who’s working with him, I don’t care who they are.”
~ * ~
The tone in his voice sent chills down her spine. No matter who it was. What could she do? So far he didn’t have any idea she was working with Rivera. Once he found out…she shivered violently…Chase wouldn’t stop. Revenge would drive his anger and he could be just as explosive as Rivera. She shivered again. Maybe it was time to bail. Disappear.
Where the hell could she go? There would be nowhere on earth Rivera couldn’t find her.
Of course if Chase wanted to, there wouldn’t be any hiding from him either.
He grabbed her into an embrace. “Are you cold?” He pulled the covers up close and squeezed her tight. “I won’t let anything happen to you. I’ll die first.”
He grew quiet and the time seemed to drag. She knew he wasn’t going to be able to go back to sleep. She also knew sleep would avoid her like the Black Death.
He pulled away. “I’m going to take a shower.” The mattress shifted and the comforting feel of his body left a chill in its place.
He disappeared into the bathroom and once more she trembled. The only way to keep both men off her was to do the job. She’d collect the bounty, leave enough evidence to destroy Rivera for good and disappear.
Her gaze flickered to the desk where the gun was locked away. Inhaling a deep breath, she left the bed and opened the drawer. Once more, she pulled out the box holding the gun, unlocked it and hefted its cold weight in her hand. Leaving the desk, she moved to the bathroom door. The sound of the water running muffled through the wood she placed her hand on the knob.
You just have to open the door, shoot him and get out... The door slid open with a quiet creak. Steam filled the room and through the haze, she could see his silhouette on the curtain. Raising the gun, she aimed it at him and her finger applied slight pressure against the trigger.

Enjoy!

Hugz

Donica

Some Summer Reading

I am a romance girl. I always have been. But I'm also a Star Wars nut. I love all things Star Wars. I've read a lot of the bazillion Star Wars books--I have a rather extensive collection of the post Return of the Jedi books, and a few of the ones from the periods of the prequels.

This summer, I've been reading something a little different for myself. The Republic Commandos series by Karen Traviss. I would never have picked it up, because, really, what would I care about the clone troopers in the Clone army? I mean, they're just clones, right? And it's a war book--two things that totally turned me off to the series initially.

Boy was I wrong.

I have to give kudos to Ms. Traviss--I fell in love with all these characters. Thoroughly. I laughed at the banter between the men, I cried as the clones grew, as they fell in love, as they learned that there was more to life than just being a soldier.

I think part of it is because Ms. Traviss is a woman--I doubt very seriously that a man could have created this strong emotional connection to these otherwise faceless characters. Maybe it's my own prejudices coming through, but I find I enjoy books by women much more than by men, because there's emotion there. Most of the books I read by men tend to be more technical and less emotional than I like.

While I must say, I would have loved to see a little more sex in the books (everything is closed door, :::sigh:::), but that's just the romance writer in me, the emotions that are there, the love between certain characters is outstanding.

They're great fun. There's four in the series:

1. Hard Contact.
2. Triple Zero
3. True Colors
4. Order 66 (you'll bawl and bawl in this one.... I swear... Bring tissues)

And the fifth, Imperial Commando, The 501st, comes out this fall. I will be snagging this one up as soon as I can--I have to know what happens to Darman, Ordo, Skirata, and all the others.

She does it well, too. The first book, you meet only four commandos. As the books progress, you meet more and more characters, and pretty soon, you're reading about 18 heroes, and you know everything about all of them, and you adore them all.

And some of the books have short stories in the back, referenceing things that are mentioned earlier in the story--like why Fi is so respected by the civies on Coruscant.

Anyway, if you love Star Wars at all, or have the slightest curiosity about how an army of clones would find individuality within a sea of their own face, these are certainly wonderful reads.

I highly recommend them.

I will be keeping these in my 'read again and again" file.