| ||||||||||||||||||||
Archive for August, 2009Monday, August 31st, 2009
This is a view of Lake Wakatipu, the Remarkables and the surrounding town of Queenstown. It was formerly a gold rush town. These days it’s a tourist mecca during both summer and winter. It’s a beautiful place no matter what the time of year. Books that mention Queenstown: Assassin, Cat and Mouse Don’t forget to enter my contest to guess how many books I will read during my holiday. Go here for details. Sunday, August 30th, 2009
This is Westhaven marina and the Auckland Harbor bridge that links the city of Auckland with North Auckland. Books that mention Auckland: Playing to Win, Summer in the City of Sails Don’t forget to enter my contest to guess how many books I will read during my holiday. Go here for details. Saturday, August 29th, 2009
This week’s theme is humor. There’s nothing better than reading a book that makes me laugh. I think humor is difficult to write because it’s so subjective. What makes one person screech with laughter might make another person sit in puzzled silence. I tend to write with humor, but it’s flashes of humor like the ebb and flow of the sea. I’ve chosen a scene from Romantic Interlude, which is book three in my Talking Dogs series. All the books in this series have flashes of humor throughout.
A shriek, loud enough to wake the sleeping citizens of Sloan, echoed through his bedroom. Richard let out a shout of his own, leaping upright to clutch at the bed sheets, his heart pounding with alarm. What the hell? Almost immediately, the thunder of running feet sounded in the passage. The bedroom light flicked on, dazzling with its brightness. Richard blinked. He blinked again, his eyes widening in shock. Yep, he was definitely in bed with a woman. A naked woman, if her bare shoulders were any indication. He hadn’t been asleep yet so he wasn’t dreaming. This was real all right. A naked woman. Richard shook his head in bemusement. “Dad. What are you doing here?” Richard glanced at his son Luke who was standing in the doorway. “I live here.” It was his house. He didn’t need to make excuses. “More to the point, what are you doing?” His gaze went from Luke to the half-naked woman his son clutched before he turned to check out the woman sitting in bed with him. One of her eyes closed in a wink. Suggestive. Saucy. His cock rose to even greater prominence and he swallowed, glad of the covers over his lap. The woman had beautiful eyes. They were violet and glowed with humor. The tiny fan of lines at the corners of her eyes confirmed she was a person who laughed a lot and enjoyed life. Blonde curls tumbled down her back. Her shoulders were on the scrawny side, but her bubbly personality shined through. Here was a woman who embraced life with all the curves involved. He liked that. The tenseness he’d felt in his gut and chest ever since he’d left the South Island lifted a fraction. Richard turned his gaze to his son and the younger woman. Luke had the woman in his arms and there was a lot of intense whispering going on. Curiosity followed quickly on the heels of astonishment. He glanced across at Violet Eyes sitting beside him. “Well hello, sailor.” The older woman clutched the pale blue sheet to her chest and batted her eyelashes at him, seemingly unperturbed by her nakedness. “Poke your hands in your ears,” the younger woman snapped, pointing a glittering silver weapon directly at him. It wasn’t like any gun he’d seen before. Richard’s breath caught halfway up his throat. His police-issue gun was locked away in the cupboard just as safety regulations required. Fat lot of use it was going to do him there. “Janaya,” the woman sitting beside him said in a sharp voice. Luke did some more heavy-duty whispering and the woman lowered the weapon. Thankfully. It looked as though it could inflict a bit of damage. His son drew the young woman close to his naked body then propelled her down the passage without looking back. Richard watched the whole procedure with interest since his son had left his door open. He had a great view from his bed if he leaned forward just a fraction. Luke’s bedroom door opened, closed and opened again. A small white dog with black spots trotted out, growling under its breath. The door slammed shut again and the dog let out a sharp yap. Richard shook his head. Again. Life sure had become interesting around here. He turned back to check out the woman sitting in bed with him. “Do you have a name, sailor?” The woman’s voice was low and husky and held the same humor as her eyes. “Yeah.” “You going to tell me what it is?” The smile turned toothy, and one eye closed in another of her flirtatious winks. Richard found himself grinning, entirely comfortable with the current arrangement. “Richard. Richard Morgan.” In bed with a gorgeous stranger. Who’d have thought? “My niece Janaya.” Hinekiri’s brows arched, a small smile playing around her pink lips. “I think they like each other. Your son is good for her.” Richard stared at her lips, the sensuous curves and the beautiful natural pink color before a sharp bark jolted him to common sense. He was still holding her hand while his mind was galloping light years ahead. Richard shook his head sharply in an attempt to shake his good sense loose. With regret, he let go of her hand. The dog trotted into the room, continuing with its incessant growling and a bark now and then for punctuation. Richard wondered if it would ever shut up and was about to protest but the woman beat him to it. “Killer, be quiet. Go to sleep,” she ordered in a stern voice. She made a shooing motion with her hands. The dog growled at the back of its throat and leapt onto the bed between them. It rubbed its glossy head against Hinekiri’s arm. Hinekiri frowned. “No you’re not having any food. You’ll be sick.” The dog sent a hopeful look in Richard’s direction and he could have sworn if it could speak, the dog would have asked him for food. “Killer,” Hinekiri said in clear warning. Sighing loudly, the dog jumped off the bed and trotted out of sight. “Well,” Hinekiri said. “Alone at last.” Richard gulped. That had sounded a little predatory. Her gaze held interest as it crawled across his chest. Hell, she licked her lips as though she wanted to bite. “I…um…yeah…” Dammit, he was stuttering. The last time he’d stuttered was when he’d asked Felicity to marry him. The thought gave him pause and made him consider Hinekiri a little more closely. Strange. Most women he knew wouldn’t have stopped with the first scream. They would have kept screaming. In fact, he was still sitting in the same bed. Yep, his head would still be ringing if he found himself in bed with any of the women he knew. The woman nodded. “I suppose that would be best.” A mischievous expression flitted across her face. “It wouldn’t do to kiss on the first date.” Kiss. Richard halted halfway from the bed. He clamped his lips together and stared at her twinkling eyes in shock. Kissing. His gaze drifted to her pink mouth and he imagined kissing her, tasting her lips. Man, he hadn’t kissed a woman for a while. It would be like high school all over again. Sweaty hands. Bumping noses. Unruly erections. He shuddered and stood abruptly, his breath easing out with a hiss. “Oh nice camouflage, sailor.” Holy shit. He was standing in front of her wearing his camouflage-patterned boxers and black socks. And he had a bloody hard-on. “Nothing I haven’t seen before,” Hinekiri chirped. “If it would make you feel better I could show you mine.” “Ah, no. It’s okay.” But his gaze shot to the spot where her fingers clutched at the pale blue sheet. He couldn’t see a thing. Not a hint of cleavage or anything remotely feminine or interesting. But that didn’t stop him wondering. He had a good imagination. “Too bad. Maybe later?” And Hinekiri winked at him. Again. No way was he going to reply to that one. The woman had a quick tongue. It made Richard speculate exactly what else she could do with that tongue and smart-ass mouth of “Good night,” he murmured, beating a quick retreat before she could comment on his camouflage again or anything else it failed to cover. To read excerpts from other authors follow the links below: Don’t forget to enter my contest to guess how many books I will read during my holiday. Go here for details. Friday, August 28th, 2009
This is a photo of the Champagne pool at the Waiotapu Thermal park, near Rotorua. It was difficult to photograph on the day we visited because the wind kept blowing the steam over the pool, obscuring the palette of colors. Books that mention Rotorua: Never Send a Dog to do a Woman’s Job, Playing to Win. Don’t forget to enter my contest to guess how many books I will read during my holiday. Go here for details. Thursday, August 27th, 2009
In honor of my upcoming release, CatNap…
Thirteen Things About Tigers 1. Tigers are the largest of all the big cats. 2. Tigers are an endangered species with the number in the wild dwindling rapidly each year. 3. Tigers are solitary animals and range over huge territories. 4. A tiger will kill another if it invades its territory. 5. Tigers taste the air by using their Jacobson’s organ. This is a special scent center on the roof of the mouth. They wrinkle their nose and curl their lips upward, baring teeth to scent who or what is in their territory. 6. Tigers, like other felines, twitch their tails from side to side when they concentrate. 7. An angry tiger lashes his or her tail to and fro. 8. The tiger has a bright pink tongue with a very rough surface. The tongue is covered with spikes called papillae, which are used by all cats to strip meat off bones. 9. Tigers are one of the few big cats who enjoy swimming. They’re excellent swimmers. 10. Courting tigers make a lot of noise. 11. Female tigers mate every other year. The males remains close for a few days until he is sure she is pregnant before leaving the female on her own again. 12. Tiger cubs are capable of killing prey by the time they are a year old, but they stay with their mothers until they are two or three. 13. CatNap is out at Ellora’s Cave on 2 September. To read an excerpt go here.
Source: Big Cats by Rhonda Klevansky What is your favorite big cat? Don’t forget to enter my contest to guess how many books I will read during my holiday. Go here for details. Wednesday, August 26th, 2009
Although I’m away, I’ve scheduled posts every day. There’s a Thursday Thirteen, a Snippet Saturday and I thought I’d give you a tour of some of the places I’ve visited in New Zealand. Since my next Middlemarch Mates book is due out very soon, the first photo is of Sutton Salt Lake, which is not far from Middlemarch.
Sutton Salt Lake is an inland lake and is unusual because, as the name suggests, it’s a salty rather than fresh water lake. During the summer the water evaporates and you can see the salt on the surface. This photo was taken in late November and it was almost completely dry, despite it not being the height of our New Zealand summer. (that’s around late Jan, early Feb). Don’t forget to enter my contest. Go here for details. Tuesday, August 25th, 2009
I’m jetting off on holiday for fourteen days to Singapore and Phuket in Thailand. During my holiday I intend to spend at least some of my time catching up on my reading. I have my e-reader loaded up with dozens and dozens of books. Definitely more than I can read in this time. I thought I could make a fun contest out of this. Guess how many books I read during my holiday and go into a draw to win one of my print books. I also have a few other things I’ll slip into the package such as pens and post-it notes. Clues: Put your best guess in the comments section of this post. Both readers and authors are eligible to enter. Only one guess per person. In the event of more than one person guessing the correct number I’ll do a random drawing. The winner will be notified shortly after my return home. How many books will I read during my fourteen-day holiday? Monday, August 24th, 2009
It was a weird sort of a weekend for me. I attended the conference, but I have to admit I had trouble focusing on what the speakers were saying because of the personal stuff going on in our lives. I did, however, have a couple of real lightbulb moments – thank you Fiona Brand and Mary Theresa Hussey – and I think that once I return from holiday, it will be with renewed energy and inspiration for my writing. I attended an early morning talk with agent Melissa Jeglinski from the Knight Agency. They read the first pages of manuscripts and she stopped them when she reached the point where she’d make a decision. The following is a summary of her dos and don’ts. For you experienced writers out there this is probably commonsense to you, but a reminder never hurts! 1. Don’t start your manuscript with a one-sided conversation. i.e. phone call. You’re wasting an opportunity to use characterization through dialogue. 2. It’s good to make the reader want more. i.e. intrigue them but don’t throw everything and the kitchen sink into that first page. 3. Add characterization rather than too much backstory. i.e. have your characters make an appearance early rather than giving lots of narrative first up. 4. Sentence length – don’t make those opening sentences too long and convoluted. You want the reader/agent/editor to understand the sentence. If they have to read it twice you have a problem. 5. You need a coherent flow of dialogue and narration. Don’t have all dialogue and no narration at the start of your story. Make the dialogue meaningful. 6. Don’t feel the need to give a detailed description of clothes etc in that first page. One or two details are fine but don’t describe everything in minute detail. In a talk about Harlequin and the various lines editor Mary Theresa Hussey gave us a list of points that the editors use when they’re reading a submission. 1. Are the opening and closing lines strong? i.e. it’s that hook thing. Use strong hooks! 2. Do the characters make decisions? i.e. are they active rather than sitting back and letting things happen. 3. Do the conflicts come across as strong and interesting? 4. Are the characters compelling? 5. Does the story start in the right place? i.e don’t be tempted to slide in all that back story! 6. Do you want to read on? If they can answer yes to all these questions, your manuscript is in good shape. Mary Thesesa also mentioned that the Harlequin Intrigue line and the Harlequin Presents line are definitely looking for new authors, so if you’re interested in either of these lines get writing! And two final things: If you’re interested in the new Harlequin YA line check out the prequel for Rachel Vincent’s debut story. You can download your free copy here. Harlequin do regular podcasts that can be downloaded at this link or at iTunes. There are some additional ones coming any day now so keep checking back. The existing podcasts include editor inside information and interviews with authors. Sunday, August 23rd, 2009
It hasn’t been a good weekend. We had to have our little dog put down yesterday. I keep turning around expecting to see Scotty there. When she’s not, I remember and tear up. Mr. Munro and I are sad. Saturday, August 22nd, 2009
The theme for this week is setting. Since I live in New Zealand many of my books are set in my home country because I enjoy showcasing it. Shades of Peter Jackson and Lord of the Rings. I like to think of setting as another character and definitely an important part of any book. Although I usually use New Zealand as my setting, I’ve used India in Wanderlust and today I’m doing a spotlight on Lynx to the Pharaoh, which is set in Egypt. Don’t forget to check out my photo album (link above) for photos to stir your imagination.
A blood-red moon shone over the desert, tinting the rocks and sand scarlet. An omen, the locals whispered as they bolted for their camel-skin tents, dropped the flaps and hid from the fearsome sight. Sethmet Khalil stared into the night, sensing the upheaval in the air with every particle of his tense body. Muscles twitched beneath his skin, itching for the freedom of a nocturnal run across the dunes at the edge of the oasis. It was his normal routine, but tonight he resisted, testing the air. Listening. Evil whispered from the shadows. Menace thrummed in the air, making the night birds jabber uneasily on their roosts. Sethmet sensed danger too but had no intention of running to hide like the villagers. His was a secret duty, sworn in blood many centuries ago and passed down through the generations from father to son. A sacred promise to the pharaoh to protect the tombs of the cat. The wind picked up, sending the scent of exotic spices and perfumes swirling through the air. The papyrus reeds on the edge of the lake rattled, warning of the approaching storm. With a loose-boned gait Sethmet walked from the oasis, past the caravanserai—the inn where travelers resided—and past the pens where restless camels were hobbled for the night. When the faint glow of lamps and candlelight faded, he rapidly stripped off his boots and stockings, coat, silk cravat, shirt and finally his trousers. He stuffed them under a rock he’d used in the past and stood for an instant to let the chill of the rising wind caress his body. His broad chest rose and fell and he let the cat take him, reveling in the pleasure-pain of the transformation from man to beast. Bones lengthened, stretched. Hands converted to clawed paws and a fine brownish-red fur formed on his skin. Sethmet dropped to all fours, his large fur-tufted ears twitching with pleasure and the buzz of intensified senses. As a caracal, he tested the air. Along with the storm and the myriad scents from the oasis, he smelled the campfires of the English tourists. Sethmet had visited them already in his position as family head, hiring out his guiding services in order to keep an eye on them—a case where his years of education in England helped. Amusement flicked through his mind when he recalled his loud protests about leaving Egypt. Now with a few years of added maturity, he recognized the benefits to both him and his family. A burst of wind whistled over the hill. A sandstorm fast approached, allowing the bloody moon to play peekaboo behind the clouds. The air sizzled with tension, communicating unease and something out of tune with nature. His eyes scanned the vicinity for anything suspicious. He listened. Nothing. Apart from the coming storm, all seemed as it should. Sethmet’s slow trot hastened into a full-out run, just for the pleasure of feeling his muscles work and for the heady rush of air blowing through his coat. He rounded the end of a rolling dune, his sharp eyes picking up the Englishmen’s camp at the base of the next sand hill. The tents rattled faintly, the white canvas billowing with the building storm. The flicker of a lamp caught his attention, moving slowly away from the glowing embers of the campfire. Sethmet checked the air, smelling for danger again and paused in surprise. Subtle perfume—flowers of the lilac. Woman. Sethmet sat on his haunches, blinking while he considered this new development. It was unusual for Englishwomen to come to his family’s oasis because it was so far from the big towns, several long days of riding camels that tested the temperament of a strong man let alone a delicate female. Perhaps she came with one of the local men. A wife or a lover. He hadn’t seen nor smelled evidence of her in the camp when he’d visited earlier. Not that the Englishmen had welcomed him with open arms. Secretive bastards. He knew they were treasure hunters, intent on raping the pharaoh’s tomb. The greedy expression in their eyes when they thought no one noticed gave them away. No, they hadn’t made him welcome. They’d conducted business, looking down their sharp English noses at him. Sethmet blinked, thoughts of the treasure hunters dissolving as the light moved farther away. The steady retreat of the light piqued his curiosity. On the unprotected side of the dunes, the wind tugged his fur, blew particles of sand in his eyes, bringing discomfort. He never considered ending his pursuit because something inside the cat urged him to keep following the bobbing light. A flash of white petticoat told him he’d almost caught the woman. His heart beat harder, faster. Would she take fright at seeing the cat? Probably. Shifting wasn’t an option, not with an Englishwoman present. Nudity made them nervous. They didn’t even like to look at their own bodies. No, shifting wouldn’t work…. To purchase a copy of Lynx to the Pharaoh go here. To read excerpts from other authors follow the links below: Beth Kery
| ||||||||||||||||||||
Romantic Interlude by Shelley Munro
Lynx to the Pharaoh by Shelley Munro
