Taste of Kiwi

My special guest today is fellow Ellora’s Cave author, Eve Cassidy. Eve has a new release this week, her debut release with EC, called Southern Comfort and she’s talking about favorite hangouts.

One of my favorite things in real life, television, movies or books is discovering a cool new place where people like to hang out. Not necessarily a place you go to party (although it can be) but generally the feel good place you and your friends always seem to congregate and eventually you get to know people who work there and frequent there on a first name basis. It becomes your home away from home for you and your friends.

That’s exactly the kind of place my upcoming ebook with Ellora’s Cave is all about. Southern Comfort is a bar and is loosely based on “the” bar me and my friends used to hang out at many years ago when I was an active duty marine stationed at an air base in North Carolina.

It was just outside the front gate so it offered easy access for everyone but it was still off base so it didn’t carry all the same rules an on base bar did. Honestly the place was a bit of a dump but it was a good size with multiple rooms stuffed with couches, tables, a dance floor, 2 bars and a good number of pool tables. I considered myself quite the player back then so I played a lot of pool there. But more importantly, all my friends were there.

Practically any day of the week, I could show up and there’d be a crowd of people I knew well and hung out with. Those were some good times and great memories.

It was that atmosphere that inspired me to write Southern Comfort and actually I am writing more stories around the same concept of a bar outside every front gate that caters to the boys of service.

Now a days my friend hangout is a French Bakery Café that is located in my city’s arts district about 20 minutes from home. Besides delicious food, decadent desserts and free wi fi, they are the only place open 24/7 365 days a year. The perfect writer hangout. When deadlines loom, you’ll find me there writing late into the night. Although some days you have to fight to get a table. It’s beloved by the entire city.

Whenever I meet someone who hasn’t been there I am more than eager to take them there for the quirky décor and an unbelievable salted caramel brownie. No wonder the place is so popular.

So what about you? Do you or did you have a favorite friend hangout? I’d love to hear about it.

Here is the blurb for Southern Comfort:

Two guys. A girl. One incredible game of pool…

Scarlett wants to escape, even if it’s just for a little while. So she heads to Southern Comfort where she’ll find a certain Marine she can’t keep her mind off of and he won’t be alone.

Michael spies the uptight woman of his dreams the minute she fights through the crowd. Sexy as sin, he can’t take his eyes off her while she flirts over some liquid courage. When she finally heads his way, it’s time to find out if she can live up to her end of the fantasy.

Red-hot chemistry may call the shots, but once you take the double hit… The game is on.

Purchase from Ellora’s Cave on 2 September.

CONTEST: Tell us about your favorite hangout and go into the draw to win a download of Eve’s new release, Southern Comfort.

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The theme for this week is holidays. Since I love travel quite a few of my characters take holidays. This week I’ve chosen an excerpt from my story in the Ellora’s Cave Cavemen anthology, Summer Lovin’. My heroine, who lives in New Zealand, goes over to Australia for a holiday and finds much more than she expected.

Dreams of the Oasis III: Summer Lovin’ by Shelley Munro

“Sophie Walker? Is that you?”

The dark haired hunk grinned before grabbing me in a bear hug, right in the middle of the Burleigh Bowls Club.

Who was this Cutey Pie? My mind screamed questions even as I cozied up and savored the experience. I mean, what was not to enjoy? He possessed lots of muscles and was downright hunky with his tanned face and sexy grin. Pity we were in the middle of the Bowls Club. My heart kick-started into a racy beat, while I inhaled deeply to counteract the effect. He smelled wonderful—of ginger and exotic spices, all wrapped up with the tang of the sea.

Tall, dark and cute grasped my upper arms and pulled away before dropping a chaste kiss on my cheek.

Aw, call that a kiss, my inner siren taunted. Rev it up and lay one on me. For once I didn’t care if I ended up being the floorshow. Like a kid in a candy store, I wanted to touch and taste. I wanted it all.

“Sophie, what are you doing here on the Gold Coast?”

I stared and still came up blank. The petite redhead who stood at his side didn’t look too happy. If I was in her shoes I’d have felt exactly the same way. Possessive. Heck, in her place I would have bared my teeth and warned me off.

“I used to go out with Sophie’s daughter,” Cutey Pie said.

Redhead’s frown smoothed out like magic.

I groaned inwardly. Well, that sure put me in my place. Cutey’s name popped into my mind. Isaac Shepherd. I’d liked him back when Susan was going out with him. Since my daughter was notorious for being late, I’d spent a lot of time chatting with Isaac. We had a lot in common. It had taken me a long time to forgive Susan for letting him get away.

“Susan is married now,” I said.

Isaac’s brown eyes glowed, making me intensely aware of my body and the way my clothes fit. The word desperate came to mind. I hadn’t kissed a man for a long time let alone got down and dirty. My hormones were protesting the lack of action. For a moment there, they’d thought they’d got lucky. Disappointment was a bitch.

“What are you doing here?” he asked, his husky voice strumming across my senses in a very delicious way.

“I’ve come over on a RSA trip, with a group of golfers. Ostensibly to keep an eye on my father, but he doesn’t really need it.”

“What’s the RSA?” Redhead asked in her Aussie twang.

“Returned Services Association,” Isaac answered.

“Hey, Sophie!” It was my Uncle James, my father’s partner in crime. “There’s a dance on here tonight. Fred and I are gonna grab us a granny!”

I did a mental eye roll. “You can’t say that.” After all, I wasn’t exactly a spring chicken. My fortieth birthday was practically staring me in the eye, so I felt I should offer up a defense for the dozens of more mature women in the club. “It’s not P.C.”

“Aw, Sophie. Don’t start,” my father said. “Look at those women over there. If it walks like a duck…”

Scowling, I glanced in the direction Pop indicated. Three elderly women were giggling like young girls. I shrugged. I didn’t intend to act the stern chaperon. Pop and Uncle James could get up to all the shenanigans they wanted.

“We must meet for a drink,” Isaac said, sending a wave of flattered satisfaction through me. Bigheaded of me I know, but the redhead’s scowls made me want to cheer. Score one for the visiting team.

“Why don’t you come back for the dance?” Uncle James said.

One look at Redhead popped my bubble of optimism. Isaac wouldn’t be here tonight.

Isaac glanced at Redhead too. “Maybe.” His voice was noncommittal. “We have to go.” His brown eyes caught my gaze, and for a long moment, we stared at each other. “It’s been great seeing you, Sophie.”

And damned if he didn’t grab me and kiss me right on the lips. It was brief. Intense. And left my knees knocking. I stared after him in bemusement, my trembling fingers rising up to touch tingling lips.

A soft whistle from Pop jerked me from daydream land. “You’ve made a conquest there, Sophie.”

“I’m old enough to be his mother,” I protested, and inside, I railed at the fact. Sometimes, life plain sucked.

Uncle James looked me up and down. “You don’t look your age. You don’t look old enough to be that boy’s mother. You’re fit, you don’t look like one of those god-awful beanpole models, and you have your own teeth. Always check the teeth,” my uncle ended sagely.

“I’m not a damned horse!”

“No, you’re a woman, Sophie,” Pop said. “That’s all any of us simple men want. A luscious handful of woman to cuddle up to at night.”

He winked at Uncle James, and they both discreetly checked out the three giggling women over in the corner.

“Ooh, not while I’m looking,” I said in a firm tone, although secretly, I was flattered, my confidence boosted. A bit of life in the old broad yet, I thought. I licked my lips and imagined I could taste Isaac. Damn, I didn’t think I’d shower for a week.

Purchase Dreams of Oasis III from Ellora’s Cave in either print or e-format. Also available at Amazon in print or e-format.

To read more excerpts follow the Snippet Saturday trail below:

Mari Carr
Shelley Munro
Vivian Arend
Taige Crenshaw
McKenna Jeffries
Lauren Dane
Jody Wallace
TJ Michaels
Lacey Savage

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There’s no doubt about it – writing humor is difficult. Something I think is hysterical, you might consider only worthy of a yawn. What I think is funny might offend you. People who live in different parts of the world have different senses of humor. That said, there’s nothing better than reading a book that makes you laugh.

Our Snippet Saturday topic this week is characters interacting with humor. Reviewers often state my books contain humor and one that was particularly popular is Fancy Free. Just to get you all up to speed – Alice has inherited a condom company. She’s finding the condom business a bit different and, after her first day at work, she drinks more than she should when she visits the local pub. James, the company manager, escorts her home and ends up staying the night…

Oh, I should mention…there are a few naughty words ahead…

Fancy Free by Shelley Munro

“Ooh,” she murmured when she finally floated back into her body—because this had definitely been a wonderful out-of-body experience—and relaxed liked a cooked spaghetti noodle.

“Was it good for you?” James asked.

Alice belatedly remembered that she had and he hadn’t come. Tactful answer required. Guys, she’d heard from various gossipy sources, became a little tetchy when it came to sex and not getting any. Alice stared at his erect penis. It looked large and red and bad-tempered. It gave an angry twitch while she gawked.

“Um…” Alice glanced up to scan James’ face. “I…yes…” She stared. The man’s face screwed up as if he suffered great pain or else he—

The wretch was laughing at her. She tapped him sharply on one bulging biceps. “Yes, it was good for me,” she snapped. “Why are you laughing?”

A tentative knock sounded on the door and his laughter cut off abruptly. They glanced at each other in silent communication mode, Alice scrunching her brows together in answer to his raised brow.

“Alice? Are you awake? Breakfast is ready.”

She stared at the wooden door in horror. Had she made a lot of noise? Her gaze darted to James and he pantomimed for her to answer.

“I’m up. Won’t be long,” Alice called out. She strove for a woman-of-the-world tone, but her reply fell in the feeble, scared zone. It must have reassured Lindy because she heard receding footsteps before silence fell. She turned to stare at James.

He shook his head, a rueful grin on his lips. “Well, Ms. Beasley. You’re not the only one who’s up. A fine mess you’ve got us in this time.”

“Why is it my fault? I’ve heard you’re a playboy and a cad.” The minute she said the words she wanted to take them back.

“Ah, you’ve read Ms. Knowall’s column. You’re quite right. I am a playboy and a cad.” He stood and picked up his clothes, dressing with an elegance that she admired. “You should remember that and stay well away from me.”

“I’m sorry.” Obviously she’d said the wrong thing.

“No problem. I’ll see you at work.” He strode over to the door, opened it and stepped into the passage. A soft click sounded when he closed it.

Alice heard footsteps and then the murmur of voices. Color swept to her cheeks when she imagined what Lindy would think. If inheriting a condom company hadn’t already ruined her reputation, then she’d probably done the job now by letting James Bates, sexy bad boy, spend the night in her bedroom.

Alice climbed from the bed, self-conscious of her nakedness now. Avoiding her reflection in the mirror, she scuttled through to the small en suite and jumped under the shower, letting the water pour over her hair and face. Five minutes later, dressed in a gray trouser suit, she made her way into the kitchen for breakfast. The wooden table was set for three with floral placemats and coordinated napkins. A posy of spring flowers in the center of the table added to the Victorian theme. The rich scent of coffee floated in the air. Lindy Redcliff stood at the stove, spatula in hand, humming along to a top-forty hit. Jake, her husband, sat at the table and had already started on his breakfast.

“Morning,” she mumbled. “Sorry I’m late.”

Jake glanced up from his scrambled eggs with a smirk. “We know why you overslept. Been doing the wild thing with Sloan’s playboy.”

“Jake!” Lindy put a world of remonstration into her husband’s name but it didn’t dampen his smirk.

“No,” Alice said. “We were discussing work.” The first thing that came into her mind.

Jake’s lips twitched. “Condoms. Care for some eggs and toast. Muesli?”

Alice met his gaze with difficulty. “I’m not hungry.” The truth. She’d lost her appetite. “And yes, we discussed condoms as part of our business meeting. Appropriate since Fancy Free sells condoms.”

Jake set his knife and fork across the center of his plate. He lifted his wrist to check his watch. “Hmm, I hope your company pays overtime for such a long meeting.”

Purchase Fancy Free from Ellora’s Cave or Amazon Kindle

To read more Snippet Saturday excerpts follow the links below:

Mari Carr
Shelley Munro
Vivian Arend
Taige Crenshaw
McKenna Jeffries
Lauren Dane
Shelli Stevens
Jody Wallace

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I have a special guest today–Lynn LaFleur. Lynn is a fellow author at Ellora’s Cave, and she’s thinking purple in honor of her Lavender Lace series and her release, Two Lovers For Molly. Lynn is giving away a download from her Ellora’s Cave backlist today. See below for details of how to enter the draw.

Thirteen Shades of Purple

1. Heather
2. Lavender
3. Orchid
4. Lilac
5. Eggplant
6. Plum
7. Violet
8. Wisteria
9. Amethyst
10. Thistle
11. Iris
12. Grape
13. Hydrangea

Two Lovers for Molly by Lynn LaFleur
Book 3 of Lavender Lace Series

Blurb

A chance meeting with Julian Forrest changes Molly Ross’ mind about her bad luck with men. Julian is not only gorgeous, but intelligent and charming. Finally, her luck with men has changed.

Julian loves the sexy underwear Molly buys at a store called Lavender Lace that makes his mouth water every time they make love. It takes less than a week for him to know he’s falling in love with her.

Then Lane Edison comes back into Julian’s life. Despite being apart for a year, one kiss from the handsome man and Julian tumbles. He wants both Molly and Lane, but doesn’t know how that can happen…until he reads a threesome scene in a book Molly is writing.

Molly loves Julian, yet feels an instant attraction when she meets Lane. Discovering the two men were once lovers is a huge turn-on for her. When Julian suggests a ménage a trois, she’s more than willing for the two men to fulfill all her fantasies.

Purchase Two Lovers For Molly

Visit Lynn’s website

CONTEST
Prize offered: Winner’s choice of download of any of Lynn’s books. To enter the draw either ask Lynn a question about writing or her series, tell us your favorite shade of purple or mention something that’s purple.

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My special guest today is fellow Carina Press author, Rebecca E. Grant. If you enjoy a contemporary cowboy romance, check out her latest release, Liberty Starr. Today Rebecca is talking about one of my favorite things–the romance hero. Tall, dark and a shuttle driver?

What do you think—would a shuttle driver make a good romance hero?

I hope you’ll leave a comment about your idea of a good romance hero here on Shelley’s blog today. All commenters will be included in the drawing for a free copy of my contemporary cowboy romance, LIBERTY STARR.

While you’re thinking about that question, last week I was taking an 8:00 AM shuttle bus from the Walt Disney Dolphin Hotel in Orlando where the Romance Writers of America conference had just wrapped up, to the airport. It was crammed full of romance writers. I should have been exhausted—we all should have been exhausted. But the energy on that bus was high—even though the temp topped out at over 100—the humidity was beastly, and the hour was early, after a late night—all because it was a great conference, and romance writers love what they do!

Even the ride to the airport was fantastic. I had the best seat on the bus—first seat on the passenger’s side with a bird’s eye view of our driver—a fabulously sexy, man from the Caribbean with amazing eyes, a tall, slender body and the sexiest…well, you know…sexiest everything!

I will admit I was unabashed about staring blatantly at him because physically, he was the perfect model for a romantic hero. He must have felt me watching him because he turned around and gave me a slow smile.

“Hot,” he said.

Too bad he was talking about the weather.

“Yes.” I agreed. “And that was a lot of luggage you slung under the bus.”

He ripped a paper towel off a roll he took from under the seat and wiped his forehead and the back of his neck. “I’ve never seen so much luggage. Must’ve been a lot of free giveaways at this conference.”

I smiled and nodded, seriously not trusting my voice—he was that good looking. He turned away and picked up a gallon jug of water, snapped the cap off and took a long pull. I watched the way his mouth fit over the opening of the jug—the undulations of his throat as he swallowed, and couldn’t help but imagine what his mouth would feel like—taste like.

He caught my eye in the mirror, lowered the jug and said, “Vodka.” He winked.

I chuckled. It wasn’t original, but it was entertaining. Encouraged, he picked up the microphone and treated us to a running diatribe of interesting facts and stories about the area. He was so engaging, someone called out from the middle of the bus, “you should do stand-up.”

He smiled at me through the mirror and said, “What do you think this is?”

About half-way to the airport he asked me, “What conference was this?”

This time I grinned—I haven’t met anyone yet who is indifferent to a romance writer. “Romance Writers of America.”

He reached for his jug, swallowed spectacularly again for me, and asked, “All of you are romance writers?”

I nodded.

“How do you conduct your research?” He asked. Again, not original—what romance writer hasn’t heard that one? But he was beyond sexy. He was compelling.

I decided to play with him a little. “Exactly as you imagine.”

He took another swallow and was momentarily quiet. I could see his mind working. Finally, he picked up the microphone and began to talk again, this time tailoring all his fun facts and stories to romance writers. Much of it centered around how romance authors conduct their research—and where. He was just short of crossing the line, with extraordinary timing, and an engaging laugh.

Needless to say, it was a fast ride to the airport, and I’m confident his tips attested to the fact that not only was he relentlessly sexy, he had a razor-sharp wit.

So, back to my original question. Do you think a shuttle bus driver would make a good hero?

When I got off the bus he asked, “Where do you get your ideas?” (only slightly different from the research question, but this time I knew he was serious).

I was serious too, when I answered, “Sometimes they come to me in dreams. Sometimes they just show up when I put my fingers to the keyboard. And sometimes,” I grinned, “it happens when I’m taking a shuttle to the airport.”

“Really? I could be a character in one of your books?”

“Trust me,” I told him. “You already are!”

Thanks for joining me at Shelley’s blog today. Don’t forget to leave a comment about your idea of a compelling hero, and why. You might just be the lucky winner of a free copy of LIBERTY STARR.

Click here for an excerpt from LIBERTY STARR
Click here to read reviews of LIBERTY STARR

Visit my website to read excerpts from books coming soon.

All the best to you,
Rebecca E. Grant

Love is Unstoppable!
www.RebeccaEGrant.com
http://blog.RebeccaEGrant.com
follow me on Twitter: @RebeccaEGrant
or visit me on Facebook

10% off coupon—use code
CARINA10 at checkout
Valid through 10/31/10

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My special guest today is fellow Carina Press author, Abby Wood. Abby is here to tell us about her recent release, Consent to the Cowboy. This is another book I’m looking forward to reading and one that is locked and loaded on my Palm reader. I’m thrilled to have Abby visit today, especially since she’s talking about some of my favorite things–rodeo and country fairs.

Thank you for having me here today, Shelley. It’s a pretty exciting time around my house lately. Not only has Consent to the Cowboy been released at Carina Press, but it’s also county fair time in my part of the country. To celebrate, I’d love to give away a copy of my book to one lucky person who leaves a comment today.

For me, county fair means rodeo time! These are small time rodeos where town favorites compete for the championship. Year after year, we attend and cheer on our favorite rider. From barrel racing, calf ropin’, bull ridin’, and team ropin’, every highlight of the rodeo draws a big crowd. Heck, if two hundred people show up, that means almost the whole town attended. We start’em young too. Our four year olds are sat atop the back of a calf and let loose within the ring. We grease up pigs and encourage our children to go catch their dinner.

Spirits run high, beer flows fast, and words take on more meaning. It is the one chance to meet with your neighbor who lives five miles away and get caught up on how their crops are growing, how many heads of cattle they are planning to run through the winter, and to catch up on the local gossip.

Behind the fencing, personal bets are taking place. Although, that’s not what we call it…it’s bartering. I’ll give you one goose for three laying hens if O’Reilly wins the next round! We always come home with new animals. Gotta watch out for some of them seasoned farmers though, they’ll hoist a mean rooster off on the innocent adults who have just begun their journey into country livin’.

The rodeo also means a stressful time for the women. We find out who is the best cook, the best pie baker, and who canned the most over the summer. We brag about how many nights we stayed up listening to the lids popping on the dill pickles sitting out on the counter, and we’ve sworn our man not to utter a word about the steak we burnt last week. Bad news like that stick in other women’s memories for a long time and you’ll forever be asked to bring a jello salad to the next potluck. You have to earn the right to bring a main dish, ya know.

I’ve attended quite a few fairs. Some are more centered around carnival rides, entertainment, and businesses trying to sell their products. I really enjoy them, but it’s the small local fairs that feel like a family reunion and gathering spot for the neighbors that I love the most.

Do you go to any fairs in the summertime? What kind of fair do you have in your area?

In Consent to the Cowboy, the first chapter takes place at a small town rodeo. You can read the first chapter of the book here.

Here’s the blurb for Consent to the Cowboy

Surrounded by beer-swilling, skirt-chasing cowboys her whole life, barmaid Daphne Norris has no intention of ever settling for any of the men in her Podunk hometown. So when bronc rider Will Hanson sends shock waves to her core with just one glance from his striking green eyes, no one is more surprised than her.

But Will is no ordinary cowboy, and he can see that Daphne is no ordinary small-town girl. He can sense in Daphne the quiet strength and devotion needed to satisfy a man like him, a man who needs to be on top, in every aspect of his life.

Daphne hasn’t ever succumbed to her submissive desires before, and Will awakens her in ways she never imagined. While she’s not prepared to give him her heart, she agrees to Will’s offer of three days of intense pleasure, and then she’s walking. But Daphne falls hard and fast, and now she has a decision: return to a normal life, or give up everything for Will…

Purchase Link

Multipublished author Abby Wood lives in the Pacific Northwest. A huge animal lover, she enjoys the many animals on her farm and the wild ones that roam the forest. In her free time, she loves to ride motorcycles, garden, go fishing and play tennis. She loves to write stories that allow readers to escape into a brand-new world.

You can find out more about Abby at www.authorabbywood.com, visit her Facebook page at www.facebook.com/AbbyWoodFanPage and follow her on Twitter at @MsAbbyWood.

Contest: Don’t forget – Abby is giving away a copy of Consent to the Cowboy. Just answer her question and one commenter will be chosen as the winner.

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My special guest today is debut author Kaily Hart. Her book Picture This came out at Ellora’s Cave on 29 June. Today Kaily is asking what makes a reader choose a book by a new author. I hope you’ll participate because I’m interested in your answers too.

Shelley, thanks so much for having me here today. It’s an honor and a pleasure to be able to share the same cyber space with you!

Being one (a new author that is), I’m particularly interested in this question. Especially the answers!! Honestly, we all know it’s an investment to buy a new author, essentially an unknown, unproven entity. It can be a risk, right? Personally, I have my own criteria when it comes to new authors and it usually involves something compelling. Something has to grab me, whether it’s the authors style or voice, something unique in the premise of the story, a favored story element or it could be as simple as a description or a line of dialogue that tugs at me from the blurb or excerpt.

I’ve never thought I was that influenced by reviews (because people have different tastes), but I’ve never bought a book on a bad review, either. I don’t think the title makes that much of a difference, although something ‘hoakey’ might give me pause. I have noticed the character names occasionally make me think, especially if I’ve known someone with the same name and the experience wasn’t a pleasant one. If there’s a perceived challenge to being able to relate to the character for some reason (name, occupation, situation or choices), I might really think hard about it because it might prevent me from being invested in that character.

Rightly or wrongly, I know I’m influenced by the book’s cover. It’ll catch my eye such that I might take the time to look at it further when otherwise I might have just skimmed over it. I try not to let a cover sway me though. I know that an author often doesn’t have a lot of say in the cover’s end result. Many times I’ll skim the blurb, but read the excerpt because it will give me a feel for the authors writing and style. Can I really read a whole book of this? I’ve also been known to flip through a book in the bookstore to about a third of the way through and just read a couple of pages. I also like to know that in the event I do buy the book and like the author, there’ll be more books! I’ll check out their website or blog to get a sense of that. Really, there are many factors that influence the book buying decision, especially for a new author, and it can be a very individual thing. Of course, I’m hoping Picture This has that something special to draw readers to this new author!

So… what makes YOU buy a new author?

BLURB:

Desperate and young, Jillian Moore did something she knew would one day come back to bite her in the ass. She’d posed nude. For money. Years later, and on the fast track to a successful career, she’s still haunted by her mistake. She can’t help but wonder when her past will catch up with her.

Samuel Steele is not short on female attention, but the women who warm his bed pale in comparison to the fantasy he’s created of the seductive temptress in the painting hanging prominently in his bedroom. A fantasy that has ruined his once satisfying sex life. When he discovers that her exact likeness works in his building—for him—things get…interesting.

EXCERPT:

It’d been sold, again, three months earlier. Private auction, anonymous bidder and there was no way for her to find out who’d bought it. All she knew for sure was that it’d been a man. It figured. Damn, she’d been close this time. Not that she would have been able to afford to make even one bid herself. It had opened at fifteen thousand and after some fast and furious bidding had finally gone for a cool seventy-five thousand—dollars. Jeez, she’d probably be paying off her student loans for another twenty years and some guy had dropped seventy-five grand on a picture?

Jillian sighed. She wasn’t even sure what she’d do if she could uncover the identity of the new owner. She’d kept telling herself she’d be able to buy it one day once she got established. She’d planned on it, she’d counted on it. It was why she’d tried her damndest to keep track of it for the past ten years. Her only hope now was that it would sit in some private collection, gathering dust and never see the light of day. Yeah, right. She’d never, ever been that lucky. All those years ago, who would have thought? Deep down though she’d known and it had plagued her ever since. When she least expected it, it was going to come back and bite her on the ass. She just knew it.

Purchase Picture This
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CONTEST:

I’m giving one person a chance to win a copy of Kaily’s debut release, Picture This. All you need to do is answer Kaily’s question and I’ll pick one comment at random to win. I’ll post the winner’s name on Friday. Good luck!

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My special guest today is Leah Braemel, a friend and fellow author at Carina Press and Samhain Publishing. Leah has a new release out called Texas Tangle. It’s currently locked and loaded on my reader, and I can’t wait to find time to read it. Meantime, I asked Leah a few probing questions about herself and her writing. I think she deserves a medal – any woman who lives in a household of males is definitely braver than me!

Tell us a little about yourself and how you started writing.

That’s good that you asked for me to tell a little, because there’s not much to tell. I’m the only Canadian-born member of my family – my mother, father and sister are all English. I’ve been married for 32 years and hope to last another 64 (only half-kidding on that one) and have two sons who have just finished school (one high school, one college) but still live at home. Oh, and I have a cat, Spike, who is very disgusted that my lap is often taken by my laptop instead of him. (If you noticed, they’re all males, even the cat. So no frilly stuff in this household. They won’t even allow flowers on the wallpaper, the upholstery or the curtains. Plain colors only please. Talk about testosterone poisoning.)

As for my writing…I wrote my first story when I was around seven. My sister and I were addicted to a brand new science fiction show called Star Trek. (Yes, this is during its first run, before it was known as “The Original Series.” My sister was so enamored of it that she started writing her own scripts. That was the first time I twigged to the fact that people wrote books, that I could write down the stories that I’d tell myself when I went to bed each night. I wrote down one of my ideas and showed it to my sister who was my very first critic. She was also my last critic because after that horrific review (which was probably dead on the mark) I vowed to never show anyone my writing Ever. Again. And I didn’t. For close to 40 years. Oh, I wrote lots of non-fiction manuals for my job, and I wrote newsletters and articles and such, but my fiction I kept hidden and didn’t dare show anyone until the mid 90s. I can’t remember why I trusted that particular friend with my writing but she told me I should try to get published. But I blew her off. “Everyone’s trying to get a book published, I wouldn’t stand a chance” I told her. And I kept that stance until about 2004 when I met a lady on line who was trying to get published. I showed her a bit of my writing and she also encouraged me to get published. She became my critique partner, but after opening her first critique I wondered how the heck she thought I could get published, there were comments made on every line. Of course, she was right on the money and soon I’d learned about showing versus telling, and passive verbs versus active verbs. Then she did the unthinkable. Because I’d been waffling about actually submitting any of my work to an editor or agent, she issued a dare. Next thing I knew I was registered for the 2007 RWA conference and had an appointment with an editor who asked to see a partial of my story.

Your new book, Texas Tangle, is a ménage a trois. What attracted you to write a ménage a trois?

Hmm, that’s a good question. Texas Tangle wasn’t supposed to be a menage until Brett walked in as a secondary character. Then one thing led to another, LOL, and the story demanded it. Menages are always a challenge to me because although I do know a few couples (triples?) who have had them in real life, they’re not generally socially acceptable. After Private Property came out, I had a reader mention that she’d loves to read about menages that end up turning long term, so I played around a bit with Texas Tangle to see if I could find a situation where I could see it being an obvious solution that all parties could live with.

Where did the idea for Texas Tangle come from?

Partly from a trip to Texas I took a few years back, and partly because I love the rural way of life (I was raised on a farm.) As for Nikki’s being robbed, that’s drawn straight from real life — being robbed, excuse me, burgled, steals more than your belongings, they steal your peace of mind. I’ve known quite a few women very similar to Nikki and a couple like both Brett and Dillon, so when I started writing the story, they just seemed naturals for that setting.

What do you tell people when they ask you about writing love scenes or ask the inevitable question of your husband – do you do all that stuff?

It sometimes depends on how I’m feeling or how they ask. Most times I laugh it off and say I have an active imagination and my husband grins and says he loves being my research assistant. There have occasionally been people who are a little more judgmental in their questioning so I have to bite my tongue and not ask them if they would ask Jeffrey Deaver or Harlan Coben how many people they’ve killed in real life researching their stories. (Not that I’m comparing myself to Mr. Deaver or Mr. Coben, of course.)

What is your favorite thing to do on a lazy Sunday?

Depends upon the season — throughout the winter, sitting inside by the fireplace, curled up beside my hubby watching a movie. In the summer? If it’s too hot, then I’m sitting inside curled up beside my hubby writing while he watches golf.

What tip would you give to an aspiring writer who is just starting their writing journey?

Write! Seriously. You can’t find your voice until you’ve written for a while. And if you do plan on getting published at some point you have to have something finished to submit to an editor. That can only be accomplished by writing until you can type those two lovely words “The End.” (Then the editing begins, but that’s another story.)

If you want to know more about Leah, her website is at http://LeahBraemel.com and her blog is at http://leahbraemel.blogspot.com. They can also follow her on Facebook or on Twitter.

And here’s an excerpt from Texas Tangle

Brett reached for Dillon’s front door then stopped. Why couldn’t Dillon have been home? At least that way he knew he could control himself. Even though he’d stayed away a full month, he still hadn’t gotten her out from under his skin.

Get it over with. Give her the news, then stay far away.

He lifted his hand and after a moment’s hesitation, knocked on the door. Maybe he’d get lucky, and she wouldn’t be here. Maybe she’d gone into town with Dillon.

The door creaked open, and there she was, wearing one of the white shirts he’d left behind, a pair of cut-offs beneath. She’d left the top three buttons undone, giving him a tantalizing view of her cleavage. His cock punched against his zipper at the thought of unbuttoning the rest of the buttons, of spreading the fabric wide and tasting her nipples.

Why didn’t he just cut off his balls and hand them to Dillon on a plate?

“Brett?” She looked startled to see him. “Come on in.”

He followed her into the kitchen, watched her fiddle with the coffee maker. Nikki never fiddled and, more importantly, she wasn’t looking at him. He made her nervous. Did she worry he might try something on her again?

His fists clenched at the thought that he might have scared her, made her think he might take what she wasn’t willing to give.

“I didn’t mean to drive you away.” She made a gesture of impatience. “I’m sorry, I’m being selfish. I just…I’ve missed you.”

The heated blood racing through his veins headed south when she smoothed her hands down her front, tightening the fabric over her breasts, accentuating that she wasn’t wearing a bra.

Did she realize how beautiful she was with the color high in her cheeks when she blushed? Longing spun his senses until he felt like he’d been caught in a twister, especially when she turned those soulful eyes on him. The lost tone in her voice cut right through him, pierced defenses he didn’t know he’d erected.

Purchase Texas Tangle from Carina Press

Leah is giving away a download of her ebook Private Property to one lucky commenter. All you need to do to enter the draw is either ask Leah a question or tell us what you say to people who give you a hard time about reading romance. The winner will be announced on Wednesday 14th of July.

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The theme for this week is dancing. I’ve chosen the dancing scene from Tea For Two where my characters Hayley and Sam first meet.

Tea For Two by Shelley Munro

Aware his trio of stalkers hovered in the vicinity, waiting for an opportunity to approach, he tightened his grip on the woman and took her hand. Crazy. He should thank her for the save and leave. But he didn’t. “Would you like to dance?”

A slight frown creased her forehead. She opened her mouth, as if she might reject him.

“Please,” he said hurriedly. “You haven’t even given me a smile yet. I look upon that as a challenge.”

“Women don’t say no to you, do they?” Amusement sparkled in her beautiful blue eyes. He wondered idly what her dark hair would look like without the pins and jeweled combs that restrained it so tightly. Probably really good against his sheets.

“Not often,” he said, guiding her to the dance floor with a hand at the small of her back while battling his instincts to pounce. Too bad. He was losing the fight. Big time. “You wouldn’t want to spoil my good image. Word might get around. My reputation would suffer.”

She chuckled, the sound rich and musical, without artifice. “Your reputation seems quite healthy. I’ve seen you in the gossip magazines with a different woman on your arm each time.”

“You recognize me?” Damn, a woman he instinctively liked, and she had preconceived notions. The wrong ones, if she read the gossip mags. Damn, he hated this, although he couldn’t change the fact his mother was minor royalty and his father had more money than most people dreamed about. Their fairy-tale marriage had sparked public interest that had never waned over the years. If anything, the arrival of children brought more attention. It seemed, in this world of throwaway relationships, a lot of people craved happy endings.

“You’re a very photogenic figure, Mr. Norville.”

“Sam,” he said, taking her into his arms. “You can call me Sam.” She was about six inches shorter than him—the perfect height. Nothing worse than a sore neck from bending at an awkward angle. They moved together easily, bodies brushing in time to the music. At least she hadn’t flounced off in disgust, he thought while he navigated the crowded floor. “Are you going to tell me your name?” He offered her his best smile, infusing it with charm and sincerity, when all he really wanted to do was bite. His smile slithered into a smirk at the thought. It wouldn’t be a problem. Laving away the sting with the lash of his tongue would be half the fun.

“H-Helen,” she said.

Cute stutter. Combined with the freckles and perfume, it added up to compelling—for him at any rate—and a woman who didn’t do casual. Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea. Yeah, right. Try telling that to his body.

“You can’t believe everything you hear or see, especially in the media,” he said, returning to their earlier conversation.

“Is that so? But the stories seem fairly consistent. There must be an element of truth.” The sparkle in her eyes gave away the fact she was teasing.

A couple bumped into them. Sam gathered her closer and moved them out of the main traffic area on the dance floor. Their legs glided together and his unruly hormones leapt to full alert. Difficult to hold back his groan of pleasure.

“You can’t let my reputation scare you off. That would be like trying a man without giving him a hearing. Innocent until proven guilty, remember?”

Helen lifted her head and her mouth stretched into a wide grin. It echoed in her blue eyes, taking her from quietly attractive to striking. Sam stared, fascinated by the difference a smile made. “Just what do you intend to do with me, Sam? We’ve only just met.”

Strange how the stutter had disappeared. He’d rather liked the small imperfection. “We can discuss our relationship over a drink.”

“A drink sounds nice.” Her full lips twitched with amusement. “But really, it’s too early to call what we have a relationship.”

He chuckled, attracting the attention of several couples near them on the dance floor. For once he didn’t care about the public scrutiny. “I respond well to a challenge. I also bite. You should take that as a warning.”

Helen grinned. “I must update my immunization shots.”

Purchase from Samhain Publishing or Amazon

To read more Snippet Saturday excerpts follow the links below:

Mari Carr
HelenKay Dimon
Shelley Munro
Vivian Arend
Taige Crenshaw
McKenna Jeffries
Ashley Ladd
TJ Michaels
Emma Petersen
Lauren Dane

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The theme this week for Snippet Saturday is apologies. I’ve chosen an excerpt from The Bottom Line where Maggie’s friends apologize for the way they’ve treated her after a falling out about Connor, the lone male who hangs out with them.

The Bottom Line by Shelley Munro

Julia gestured for another bottle of wine, and Maggie hustled to serve both her and the new arrivals.

“How are you doing, Julia?” she asked in an undertone.

Julia shrugged. “Good days. Bad days. How about you?”

Obviously Julia wasn’t willing to talk specifics yet. “About the same as you. I don’t think I’m relationship material. Every one of them ends the same way, with me ending up alone. I think I’m doing okay, then things get mucked up and everything ends badly.” The words burst from Maggie, making her realize how badly she’d needed to talk.

Julia gave a sharp bark of laughter, one that held little humor. “You and me both. What say we give up on men and have a raging affair with each other?”

“Julia!” Christina said in clear shock. “Did you just proposition Maggie?”

“Why not?” Julia winked at her, but made sure Christina didn’t see. “We’re both off men, but like sex. I’m sure I could spank you, Maggie. Let’s talk.”

Susan started to splutter, while one of the young rugby players picked up on a pertinent word.

“Spanking?” he asked. “Which one of you is into spanking? There’s a great spanking blog that one of the other guys in my team put me on to. I thought it would be strange and kinky, but it’s really interesting.”

Susan blurted, “That’s Mag—”

“That’s great,” Maggie cut through Susan’s words, shouting loudly, and her friend clapped a hand over her mouth, her eyes full of apology. “You sound very open-minded.” A pity he was too young for her.

In that moment, she knew she was going to meet up with her cyber lover. He pushed every one of her buttons and already knew she liked spanking.

“Where do you play rugby?” Christina asked, diverting the conversation.

Susan wasn’t so easily diverted, her speculative gaze going from Maggie to Julia and back. Maggie felt Susan’s gaze follow her down the bar while she served several beers and mixed drinks. It was another hour before things calmed down enough for her to check on her friends.

At least the initial stiffness had faded, although Maggie wasn’t fool enough to think their friendship would continue as if nothing had happened.

“Susan thinks we’re interested in each other. Connor would have a good laugh about that. He’s always said two chicks together are hot,” Julia said.

“Susan is gullible.” Maggie didn’t want to talk about Connor. She hadn’t seen him, not even at the gym. She hoped they didn’t mention she was working here. The last thing she wanted was to see him with his new blonde. She didn’t think she could cope with that. A sudden tight sensation behind her eyes told her she was far from over him.

Betrayal hurt—from both sides, which made her want to work to repair the rift with her friends.

“I’ve really missed you. I haven’t been going out much. Just work and Susan and Christina dragged me out tonight. I’m sorry I didn’t make more of an effort to see you,” Julia said in a low voice. “I really am sorry. You’re a good friend and you deserve better.”

“It’s okay,” Maggie murmured.

“It’s not, but thank you. Are you seeing anyone else?” Julia asked.

“Not really. Sort of,” she amended. Cripes, she was having regular cybersex.

“So, which is it?”

“I’ve been having some pretty torrid cybersex with someone I met through my blog.”

Julia’s eyes widened. “Really?”

Maggie moved away to serve some more customers, noting the crowd had thinned out. Some had left for home while others had moved to the adjoining restaurant.

When she returned to her friends, the rugby players had left. She gathered up the glasses, stacked them into the glass machine and switched it on.

“You can’t leave me hanging like that,” Julia said. “Spill.” She turned to the others and whispered, “Maggie’s having cybersex with some guy.”

“Maggie!” Susan said. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to sound so critical. What I meant is that cybersex could be dangerous.”

“I intend to be careful,” Maggie said.

“For goodness sake, tell Maggie cybersex is dangerous,” Susan said.

“Susan, you sound like my mother when she discovered I knew about the birds and the bees,” Julia said. “Maggie’s having safe sex. What’s wrong with that?”

“There are all sorts of weird people online,” Susan said. “You’re having sex with one? I don’t believe it. You don’t know anything about him. How do you even know it’s a him? It could be a woman.”

“Or a horny underage teenager,” Christina added.

Maggie thought about Kinky Lover’s posts. “No,” she said slowly. “I don’t think it’s an underage male. This man knows his way around a woman’s body. He knows what makes us tick.”

“He could be married,” Julia said.

“See,” Susan said with concern. “Even Julia agrees. There has to be something wrong with him if he has to have cybersex. What’s wrong with the real thing? Why can’t he go out and find a date like most men do? Aw, hell, I don’t mean to sound critical. It’s a safety issue.”

“It’s not always so easy to meet people,” Maggie retorted. “I know. Heck, Susan. You know too. That’s why you’ve applied to a reality show.”

Susan nodded with a wry smile. “Touché.”

“We got in,” Christina said, bouncing up and down on her barstool.

Maggie noticed a new arrival. “Hold that thought,” she ordered, moving down the bar to serve the elderly couple.

When she returned, the three were in deep conversation. Maggie used the time to remove some empty glasses and wipe down the bar. She chopped up a lemon and restocked the beer fridge.

“You can take a break now,” the head barman said.

“Is it okay if I sit with my friends while I’m on my break?”

“Sure. Don’t be late back.”

With a nod, she walked around the bar.

“Are you on a break?” Christina asked. “Or are you finished for the night?”

“I wish. My feet are sore from standing. No, it’s a break. I have another two hours for this shift.”

“Let’s sit over there at the table,” Susan said.

They moved over to the table, Maggie clearing it off and taking the glasses to the bar before she rejoined her friends.

Susan stood and hugged her. “I’m sorry I was such a bitch about Connor. I have no excuses, but I’ll try not to repeat it ever again,” she whispered fiercely.

Christina embraced her, too, a tight squeeze that said more than words. Maggie blinked rapidly to control the surge of emotion gripping her chest.

“Don’t look at me,” Julia said with a wink. “I don’t want to hug you and start spreading rumors about our hot lesbian affair.”

Purchase your copy of The Bottom Line from Samhain Publishing, Amazon Kindle or All Romance eBooks.

To read more Snippet Saturday excerpts follow the trail below:

Jody Wallace
Eliza Gayle
Mari Carr
Vivian Arend
HelenKay Dimon
Lauren Dane
Shelley Munro
Shelli Stevens
TJ Michaels
Taige Crenshaw
McKenna Jeffries
Ashley Ladd

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