Check it Out

Remember the book I reviewed before the holidays?

This one.

Well, it's out. You can get it at Amazon.



If you have any doubts, check out my review. Or head out to Delilah Devlin's home page and see what she's heard other readers say about it.

Welcome to Kick-Ass Author Fiona Jayde!

 Today, let's welcome Fiona Jayde to Alien Places. She's stopping by on her tour of cyberspace to celebrate the launch of COLD VICTORY. Make yourself comfortable and listen to her tale.

And don't rush off! There's an excerpt, some additional information, and don't forget to leave a comment! Follow Fiona on her tour, read all about her, and chat with her all along -- the commenter with the most posts will win a prize!

And here's Fiona!!!

Fiona Jayde is a space pilot, a ninth degree black belt in three styles of martial arts, a computer hacker, a mountain climber, a jazz singer, a weight lifter, a superspy with a talent for languages, and an evil genius.

All in her own head.

In life, she is an author of kickass, action packed, steamy romances, possesses a brown belt in Tae Kwon Do and blue belt in Aikido, a web developer, scared to death of heights, loves jazz piano, can bench-press about 20 pounds — with effort, speaks English and Russian fluently, and when not plotting murder and mayhem enjoys steamy romance novels, sexy spy thrillers, murky mysteries and movies where things frequently blow up.
www.fionajayde.com


MH-- Hi, Fiona! Welcome to Alien Places. Thank you for stopping by my corner of the universe. Please take a seat and make yourself comfortable. Congratulations on the release of your new book!

FJ-- HI Masha - thank you for having me! I'm thrilled to be here at Alien Places.

MH-- First of all, I have to say that your bio had me all a-twitter. You could be my twin, or my clone, because I'm the same person on the inside! Well, maybe I'm not a jazz singer but a musician who plays a dozen instruments... All in my head.

FJ--OMG too funny!

MH-- And Yay! for the talent for languages.
You did say you're fluent in Russian, and I noticed that the heroine's name in Cold Victory is Zoya. Now that is a very Russian name. What can you tell us about your linguistic knowledge? Is is school-learned or a heritage? And how much do you use, or does it influence your writing?

FJ-- I was actually born in Russia - lived there till I was 11 when we moved to the United States. (Talk about a culture clash!) You could say its both school learned and heritage - since I went to the proper Soviet school, I did take Russian Lit classes - we read Pushkin, and ... Well I can't remember who else, but I remember Pushkin cause I really liked him. Still do actually. And since my family and relatives still continue speaking Russian around me, I continued speaking it by heritage. I actually have a "mental switch" - while I understand both languages equally, I have to mentally switch from one to another in order to speak. So half the time I'll have conversations with my mother where she is speaking Russian and I answer in English.

My knowledge of Russian influences my writing in a lot of ways actually - if I need an exotic word, I don't have to dig very far:) As far as Zoya being the name of my character - I wasn't even thinking Russian much, it just seemed right to me!

MH--  That's amazing and weird all at once. I'll confess that I speak Russian to my mother as well, but I definitely never dared respond to her in anything but Russian! Well... no one, and I mean NO ONE contradicted my mother.

You also admit to a brown belt in Tae Kwon Do. I image this knowledge helps write action scenes. Or does it? Have you found now and then that knowing how actual sparring works has confused your fight sequences?

FJ-- Knowledge of martial arts is a bit  like a double edged sword when it comes to writing action scenes. (And I DO love to write fight scenes!) It helps to know fancy terms - spin kick, hook kick, backfist. It helps to know weapons - I LOVE swords, sai, kamas, nunchucks. I have rubber nunchucks - which often hit me in the head.  It also helps to have access to people who could help choreograph a fight scene depending on what angle you are approaching it - streetfight, military fight, cop vs suspect, etc.

Side story - when I was about 17, and just starting to dabble in writing, I asked one of my instructors how to seriously damage an opponent. "What would you do to have someone go down, instantly, by your bare hands?". So he gives me a really strange look, pulls me into the office and asks me if everything is okay in school.  You can imagine the look of relief on his face when I told him it was for a story!

In all reality though, writing fight scenes that remain somewhat realistic can be hard. A real fight doesn't last that long, and no one does all the fancy footwork we see in the movies. I love writing kickass heroines - but I also worry about giving the wrong idea about safety to my readers. Its great to be Buffy, but the reality of it is that it's always safer to try to walk away from a situation, or try not to put yourself into a situation in the first place, no matter how badass you are.


MH-- Why do we have to "mother" all our readers? Some days I wonder if it wouldn't be easier to be a male author...

Your inner self goes mountain climbing, but your real self is afraid of heights. How does that contradiction translate into your writing? Or have you ever had the occasion to write a mountain climbing (or any kind of climbing) scene? Could you picture it, in that case?

FJ-- Actually that contradiction is especially great for my writing. Similar to flying a spaceship - I can barely tell left from right, but I sure as heck can fake being a hot-shot pilot from research. (Now I got an idea of a character - a hot shot rock climber with a deep dark fear of heights lol). In this case I'm very much an outsider - I catalogue all my experiences to use in writing, but I rarely actually participate. So I might go to a rock climbing class and interview the people who do it, but you wouldn't find me scaling the Alps:)


MH-- All right. I have to ask. How did Cold Victory start? Where did the idea come from?

FJ-- Well, it started with a scene. I had a scene in my head for a long time, and I couldn't figure out how to fit into anything I was writing at the time -it demanded its own story. The scene involved some semblance of technology - and I knew it was some sort of a military operation. Cold Victory pretty much stemmed from that one scene.

****

Stark thought about throwing up. He would have, if he’d had something to work with in his stomach. The raw and empty nausea rolled inside his gut, scraping his insides with its jagged edges.

She’d flinched away from him, and that gave Stark a nasty satisfaction. She’d been aroused despite her own resolve. He’d seen her blood pumping, seen her react. Seen those tired eyes pleading with him for something.

Her orders were kill his crew.

Sick with himself, he braced a hand over a newly replaced bulkhead. Bloodmate or not, he had a duty to Victory and to the crew. Regardless of this fucking biological anomaly, he would stand by them.

 “What the fuck were you thinking?” Two minutes later Dex caught up with him, paler than usual, his scars dark on his face.

 “It needed to be done.”

“You showed her and yourself that you don’t give fuck. Congratulations.”

Stark breathed through tight clenched teeth, and tried to force down the heavy burning low inside his stomach. “Were you able to verify if she carries explosives?”

“I didn’t have time.”

“Why the hell not?”

“I’ll show you.” Dex stabbed at his wrist unit calling up a pale gray column of transparent light. The base of the holo-output showed a small figure huddled in a corner, arms wrapped tight over her knees, her body curled into itself as if to ward off a beating.

Rage wasn’t questioned as he grabbed Dex’s uniform. “What the fuck did you do?”

“Nothing her bloodmate hadn’t done already.” Dex spat the words with fury in his eyes. “I simply administered her meds.”

Cold Victory © Fiona Jayde

****


MH-- Do you usually start with characters, a plot, or just a situation?

FJ-- I usually get a scene in my head which dictates the rest of the book. So I would have to guess the answer here would be a situation. Usually the scene is pretty dramatic - which then leaves me with the fun and grueling job of figuring out what comes before and after.

MH--  Hah! So I'm not the only one!

What is the most difficult part of the actual writing? And which part do you dislike the most (are they the same)?

FJ-- For me, the most difficult part of the actual writing is the second draft. My process requires three full drafts and then post critique polish. The first draft is really me spewing words on the page - just raw emotion. The second draft is where it all has to make sense. The third draft is where I question my sanity, my chosen career as an author, and the small semblance of talent I may posses.

MH-- Oh, I hear you. I think you have more fortitude than I, because I question my sanity every time I sit at the computer!

So how do you write? Do you plan? Do you plan on paper or think out your stories? Do you just write your books as they come and re-write until they're just right? Do you use some magical software to help your process (I wouldn't mind a “make novel” button myself)?

FJ-- I'm an avid plotter. I used to be an avid pantser, but I would continuously get stuck.  I usually do a lot of preplotting before I even start writing - I need to have a full outline before I begin the first page. (It all changes of course, but this way it's not near as painful as it used to be).  As far as magical software LOL. I wish. But I could recommend the writing blog which I run with my good friend Lacey Savage - tipsandwips.com. We talk about our processes (Lacey is an avid pantser), snippets from writing books, anything really writing related.

MH-- Thank you for stopping by! Best wishes for the rest of your tour and for a resounding success of your book!

FJ-- Thanks so much for having me, Masha - it was a pleasure!



Blurb for Cold Victory:

Intergalactic warfare has not been kind to humans. Convicted pilot Zoya Scott has the chance to avenge her family, redeem an act of desperation with that of sacrifice. She’ll end this war if she betrays the man whose touch burns through her soul, the man whose ship and crew she must destroy. The man who is her bloodmate.
Commander Galen Stark never expected the convicted pilot on his ship to be anything more then a good looking inconvenience. A small brush of their hands grips him with vicious lust, a need he can’t control. She is his bloodmate – a biological reaction burning through his veins.

Except she carries an explosive. And Stark may have to give the order to destroy them all.


Excerpt:

"Excuse me, Commander.” Those gold eyes flared. “Perhaps you were misled about their skill level. Most of them never had field experience. Their battle skills were taught in hologames.”

Stark had to get away from her before his damned glands forced him into doing something stupid. Like kissing her. Fucking her breathless. Feeling her shuddering around him as she came. “So noted.”

“Right.” A bitter smirk. Those eyes went dull again, as if he were responsible for leeching out the light inside them. “Your job is to give orders and coordinate attacks. You don’t know who is out there dying.”

He couldn’t breathe without taking in her heat, couldn’t think beyond the words she hurled at him. “You’re right, I don’t. I don’t know their names or anything about them. They’re just soldiers. They’re trained to follow orders.”

Before he knew what he was doing, he roughly pulled at the sleeve of his undershirt, exposing neat rows of tattoos. “I don’t know them.” He shook his head, battling arousal, emotion, and frustration. “I just count their deaths.”

Silence. He was an idiot to lose control like this, to share the part of himself which he’d always kept hidden. He was an idiot to need her to understand the only way he could grieve. He was an idiot to feel this raw, sexual pull toward her.

“I’m-I’m sorry.” Her voice thick, her eyes shattered, Zoya lightly touched the dots on his upper arm.

Shock rippled on his skin, pinpricks of heat and vicious, coiled lust. He nearly staggered, fighting the dark urge to cover her lush mouth while his body primed to take, to feast. Her eyes flared wide, yet she didn’t pull her arm away when his fingers closed around her wrist.

“You shouldn’t touch me.” Her pulse beat hard under his fingertips, her skin like warm, smooth silk. He gave her time to back away, to rip her arm away, say something cutting. Yet she did nothing, simply looked up at him with hot, unguarded eyes, her mouth vulnerable and soft, seconds from his.

Flashes of skin, hot gripping palms, moist hungry lips. Stark didn’t know when he pressed her against a bulkhead, when her hands clutched his shoulders, when her ragged breaths became his own. He couldn’t get enough, couldn’t take a breath, couldn’t tear himself away from ravaging her lips, plunging into the sweet depth of her mouth.

Her scent was like a potent drug pumping into his veins. Lips fused, tongues mated, he kissed her like a starving man, as if both their lives depended on it. Cupping her head, he held her steady for his onslaught, fighting himself, fighting against the soft, hitched breaths she made against his mouth. Even as someone screamed inside his head about duty and protocol, the beast inside him wouldn’t let him stop.

Linda Poitevin, Guest Blogger

Today I welcome Linda Poitevin to my corner of cyberspace. Like most of us writers. Linda leads a life full of challenges, and it's not the big hulking ones that usually bring us down. How we deal with life varies greatly, so I ask Linda: how about you?

And don't miss the excerpt from Linda's latest book, A Fairy Tale for Gwyn. Don't forget, either, to post some comments for a chance to win a prize on Linda's blog tour! If you've joined a Goddess Fish blog tour before, you know how it goes: there are random drawings, and there are prizes for the most posts! So join in the fun.


The Great Juggling Act: On balancing life and writing

I’m often asked how I manage to balance my writing with the rest of my life. My short answer is this: I don’t.

Maybe I’m just balance-impaired. Or challenged. Or just completely off-balance! But whatever the reason, balance in my life resembles one of those little games where you try to maneuver the little bead into a center hole by tipping the game board a little this way and then a little that. Unfortunately, I'm not very good at that kind of game. I invariably tip too far one way, then too far another, never quite achieving the necessary finesse required to master the game.

My life kind of goes like that, too. I tend to be one of those really committed types (no, not one who needs to be committed...at least, not yet!) who throws herself into the challenge of the moment. For instance, I'm an avid gardener. One would think that would mean that my houseplants flourish, too, and they do...for approximately six months of the year. But come garden season, the poor babies stagger, parched and gasping, from one erratic watering to the next, barely making it through until I'm confined to the house again and ready to devote my attention to them.

If a clean house becomes a priority, I drive my family insane with my nitpicking about things being left out of place; the moment something else claims my attention, however, the dust bunnies morph into really big grizzly bears. With teeth. It doesn’t really matter what my project is, it pretty much consumes me until it has run its course. Or until my interest runs out, whichever comes first.

So, balance? Sigh. I wish. But I do think I'm getting a little better with age and experience. Over the years, I’ve learned not to make every issue my own (or the dust bears would be woolly mammoths by now!), and to set my own priorities in life (like writing) rather than letting life do that for me. It’s helped tremendously to recognize that this is just how I function sometimes, and to give myself permission to do so. The houseplants will invariably survive, the living room will emerge relatively unscathed from beneath the clutter, and I will climb back onto life’s balance board until the next distraction comes along.

What about you? How do you manage to balance your life? Any tips for the more unbalanced among us?


Linda Poitevin lives just outside Canada’s capital, Ottawa, with her husband, three daughters, and a varied collection of animals. In her spare time, she gardens (organically), cans and freezes the family’s winter fruit and vegetable supply, knits (basically), crochets (better), and starts way more projects than she ever finishes. (Fortunately that doesn’t hold true of her books!) She loves spending time with her family, having coffee with friends, walking by the river and watching thunderstorms…in about that order.


A Fairy Tale for Gwyn

Gwyn Jacobs doesn’t believe in happy-ever-after.

Ever since her ex-husband walked out four years ago, abandoning her with a toddler and infant twins, Gwyn has been mother, father, and bread-winner all rolled into one. Her own scarred heart and failed marriage aside, she is determined not to open up her children’s lives to the possibility of another heartbreak...until her very own fairy tale falls into her lap -- and the hero won’t take no for an answer!

Excerpt from A Fairy Tale for Gwyn

      Gareth emerged from the bathroom as she reached the top hallway, the gurgle of draining water from the bathtub accompanying his appearance.
      “All done,” he said, a triumphant look on his face, a bucket of congealed ick in his hand, and his soaked shirt molded to the lean six-pack beneath it.
      Gwyn clutched at her resolve with both hands and moistened her lips with the tip of her tongue. What was it she’d intended to say? Oh, yes.
      “Thank you,” she said. She set the books on the folded clothes and shifted the basket to her other hip. “I’m sorry if I sounded ungrateful earlier. I really do appreciate your help. Not just today, but all of it. I don’t know what I’d have done without you this last couple of days.”
      Gareth shook his head at her, looking both amused and exasperated. “You sound like a kid who’s been coached in what to say to some cantankerous old uncle. You don’t have to apologize, Gwyn.”
      “I just don’t want you to think I’m not grateful.”
      “I never thought that,” he told her, smiling in a slow way that had her toes digging into the hall carpet-runner. “Besides, I’m enjoying myself.”
      “Entertaining my sick kids and cleaning out my bathtub?” she asked dryly, hiding her involuntary reaction behind skepticism.
      “No, being with you.” Gareth dropped a towel onto the floor near the top of the stairs and set the bucket on top of it.
      But before Gwyn could do more than draw a startled breath at his unexpected, and confounding honesty, he added, “I’ve missed out on the family thing, remember? It’s nice to be a part of yours for a while.”
      Oh.
      “And besides, I have ulterior motives.” He plucked at his soaking, oatmeal-flecked shirt. “You wouldn’t happen to have something dry I could borrow, would you?”
      “Pardon?”
      “Something dry.”
      Gwyn refrained from shaking her head to clear it, feeling very much like she’d fallen three steps behind in this conversation. “Yes, of course.”  Sandy’s husband, Rob, had left a sweatshirt behind on a visit once that she kept forgetting to return. It might be snug, but “I meant pardon about the other thing. What ulterior motives?”
      Gareth began unbuttoning his shirt. “Sorry, that’s a secret.”
      He hadn’t moved in her direction, but she couldn’t help but shift the basket again, holding it like a barrier between them. The temperature in the hallway seemed to have risen several degrees, flushing her cheeks with heat and turning her mouth dry.
      “A s-s-secret?”
      Lord, ‘s’ was a hard sound to make with your tongue cleaved to the roof of your mouth. She tried very hard to keep her eyes on his face rather than the fascinating trail his hands were taking. The heat in her cheeks snaked a slow, tantalizing path to other parts of her anatomy. Any resolve she’d had when she’d climbed the stairs became a fleeting memory.
      “Mm. But I’ll give you a hint. It hinges on kids recovering and turning their mother free again.”
      Gareth slid the shirt from his shoulders and Gwyn’s knees very nearly buckled. The laundry basket shook in her grasp and she forgot all about not staring. The big screen didn’t even come close to doing the man justice.
      His shoulders…broad, defined, offering a woman’s head a sanctuary like none she’d ever known. His chest, deep, powerful, inviting her touch, and promising.
      Gareth cleared his throat and Gwyn’s gaze flew back to his. As if she’d spoken her every thought aloud, his eyes danced with mischief and smoldered with something darker, deeper.
      “A dry shirt?” he reminded her huskily.
      She fled.

Whose names do you care about?

Here's a good question:

The Perfect Storm for Publishing: Are Publishers A Brand? « Bob Mayer – Author Blog

And a darn good blog post.

I hadn't thought about it in quite this light, but I never go look for a book by a certain publisher. I do, however, check who the publisher of a certain author or book may be, but then I'm a writer, and I'm curious about the business.

How about readers? Is Bob Mayer right? Do you ever go looking for the latest from a publisher, or do you only look for the latest from an author? Let's just leave the genre/subject searches out for now. We're talking name recognition here.

And while we're at it, how about e-books? Have you tried them? Do you know any e-publishers? Do you trust them as brands you might follow or check out for some good reading?

I promise I'll be back with my own answers... and yes, I'm e-published and a little biased, but I have some unskewed opinions nevertheless.

So what kind of name recognition do you do?

Powered by ScribeFire.

What's Your Favorite Scary Story?

The weekly newspaper at my husband's university asked the professors what their favorite scary story was. They skipped my husband, more's the pity, because he never gives run-of-the-mill answers to anything.

His pick was "It's a good life" by Jerome Bixby. I couldn't find an official online site, so I'll let you look for it yourself.

I went with the more classical La Vénus d'Ille by Prosper Mérimée. Here's a link to the original French text, and here's another one to a Wikipedia article.

Now I was thinking of classic horror stories. But there's one that chilled my childhood and still enchants me (although it doesn't give me nightmares anymore).

It is Nikolai Gogol's Viy. There is a link from the Wikipedia page to the Russian full text, for the brave souls who can tackle it.

From a science fiction author (It's a good life is also a Twilight Zone episode) to a Russian classic by way of a French classic. Yeah, that's our family. The only strange thing is that I'm not the one who picked the sci-fi author this time.

So what's your favorite scary read? Horror story? Good chilling tale?

As I remember, there were quite a few excellent Goosebumps tales worth reading at any age.

It's all in the story! Especially in the dark of night. And in the telling, of course.

All Things Spooky and Supernatural

It's Halloween month and the publishers don't fail to celebrate it.

Join in the fun with The Wild Rose Press. And why shouldn't I toot my own horn? My stories are on sale!

The Joining is 10% off and it got 5 stars from a reviewer on site. Here's what she says:

Strap yourself in for a wild ride. Ms. Holl takes the reader flying through space with the skill of a seasoned pilot in THE JOINING. And delving into the pilot's psyche is equally enjoyable. ~Skhye

For that matter, The Brightest Heaven, a Song of the Muses story, is also on sale. It earned 4.5 books from The Long and Short of It. And here's what the reviewer had to say about it:

“The Brightest Heaven” is beautifully written and entirely unpredictable. Dialogue is snappy and believable. Modern life interweaves with mythological characters as if perfectly naturally; as if indeed, space and time wove them together.


If you're still hesitating, check out the trailers on this blog (look right in the margin) or go to my site for some excerpts.

Have fun this Supernatural month!

Perceptions

I gave a talk yesterday, and while my conviction that Ann Lamott's Bird by Bird is a great writing book and everybody should read it had been reinforced, I also realized that my favorite quote from that book could be interpreted in many different ways.

To paraphrase Ann Lamott, you should allow yourself to "write a shitty first draft."

I said that in the comments after my talk. I even said that you could submit it to your critique group. Which put my favorite critique coordinator on her high horse.

Why?

Because we have different ideas of what a "shitty first draft" is.

Hers includes grammatical mistakes, spelling errors, and other basic goofs of a version that I don't even call a "draft." It's a "rough", maybe. It's something between me and me. Not something for anyone to see. My concept of the "shitty first draft" is a grammatically clean version, checked for spelling, verified for as many basic errors of style as you can spot, but still not ready for the public.

In my opinion, the critique group is a very valuable commodity and should not be abused by off-hand submissions of unchecked pages. But the critique group is also not the (ordinary) public and can help sort through the mess of a first draft.

But back to the "shitty first draft." My perception, when I need to remind myself that it's okay, you can, and must write a shitty first draft, is to turn off the long-term editor and to let the movie reel play out.

Stay in the moment and forget the fine points of style and the elegance of narration. Just do it. Get in on the page. Get the images and the speeches and the actions of your characters out onto the paper (or the virtual paper of your computer screen).

It's not about writing badly, it's about just writing when something's holding you back and the story is pushing to get out.

I couldn't NOT check the spelling on my pages. Or switch a word for a better one on the fly if the substitution occurred to me. Because my mind would keep going back to THAT spot.

But I would make myself stop worrying about how I'll get myself out of that situation. How it will lead to the conclusion I vaguely foresee. How I will resolve the new conflict.

I just write.

And worry later.

The smoothness and perfection (such as it may be) will come later, after many, many revisions and interventions, and applications of sandpaper and buffing cloth.

Guest Blogger Sandy Lender

Welcome back, Sandy! And congratulations on the release of the sequel of Choices Meant for Gods. Let me say that I love your titles. Of course, I'm a big fantasy fan, and these titles just invite the reader's imagination to fly!

And don't miss the blog-tour special excerpt!

Inspiration in All Places

By Fantasy Author Sandy Lender

http://www.authorsandylender.com

A lot of folks have asked me about inspiration. It’s a question that folks like to ask of creative types like artists and movie stars and writers. (Please notice how I just lumped myself in there with artists and movie stars. Cool, eh?) I don’t like to be glib because anyone asking the question deserves a real answer, but, honestly, everything inspires me.

Duran Duran, baby sea turtles, my parrots, sci fi shows/movies, thunderclouds over the Gulf at dawn, short elderly drivers in huge Lincoln town cars, bizarre chicks in L.A. bars, snow in the mountains, etc. At my fancy new Web site that just launched this summer, my letter to visitors tells of a funky incident from my early teens that inspired a short story in the Choices-supporting chapbook WHAT CHOICES WE MADE.

Something I know that fires the flames of inspiration for me is setting up my writing space. I participated in the annual 3-Day Novel Contest over Labor Day Weekend this year and found myself going through an almost ritual getting everything nice and “set” before the start time. What I’m curious about is readers’ “inspiration.” When you pick up a new book and prepare to crack open the front cover, do you need a special setting or a special mindset or some special music softly in the background to inspire you to drop easily into another world?

Thank you for checking in today and for participating in the conversation! “Some days, I just want the dragon to win.”

Good question, Sandy! And posters will be entered into a drawing for a hard cover copy of Sandy's book! So speak up: how do you prepare to enter a world of fantasy we create for you? And writers, what do you need to step into a world of your own creation?

Choices Meant for Kings.

Chariss is in danger. Her geasa is hampered by the effects of a friend’s marriage. The dashing Nigel Taiman hides something from her, yet demands she stay at his family’s estate where he and her wizard guardian intend to keep her safe. But the sorcerer Lord Drake and Julette The Betrayer know she’s there, and their monstrous army marches that way.

When prophecies stack up to threaten an arrogant deity, Chariss must choose between the dragon that courts her and the ostracized kings of the Southlands for help. Evil stalks her at every turn and madness creeps over the goddess who guides her. Can an orphan-turned-Protector resist the dark side of her heritage? Or will she sacrifice all to keep her god-charge safe?

A Tense Little Excerpt From Choices Meant for Kings

By Fantasy Author Sandy Lender

http://www.authorsandylender.com

You won’t find this excerpt anywhere except Sandy’s current online book tour…

As the soldier stepped toward him, Nigel reached out his arm and caught him by the neck. He slammed the captain against the far wall. He pinned him there with his body, leaning against the man as if he could crush the wind from him with his presence.

He brought his face close to the soldier’s ear and spoke lowly, fiercely, so that no one could have overheard him. The menace and intent behind the words was as surprising to the captain as the words themselves.

“I asked you to accompany [Chariss] on this journey tomorrow because I have faith in your sword, and until this moment I trusted you to keep your distance from her. Now, I find her down here at your side with a look upon your face that suggests more than you realize. So help me, Naegling, the only thing that stays my hand is how displeased she would be if she learned that I sliced you open.”

“The look you see is merely my concern for her honor. Nothing more.”

“I’m not a fool. And I’ll use every last piece of Arcana’s treasury to pay the prophets to justify my reasons for marrying that woman, so you can unconcern yourself with her honor.”

Hrazon stepped off the staircase then and saw Nigel pressed against his guard.

“I still believe you’re one of the best soldiers Arcana’s ever seen,” Nigel continued, “and I want you at her side for this journey, but, so help me, Naegling, she comes back alive and well and not confused in the least about her affections for me, or I will string you up from a tree in the orchard and attach your intestines to your horse’s saddle before I send it—”

Hrazon cleared his throat. “Excuse me. Is there an issue here I should address?”

Review: A Cowboy Seduction

by Layla Chase
Amber Quill Press

(A spicy novella.)

You don't fall in love with your best buddy. Especially not when you've been pouring your heart out to him about everything, including your boyfriends.

No, it can't happen. Especially when your best buddy is just like your father, one of those unreliable rodeo-riding, glory-chasing cowboys.

At least, that's what Lacy Durant thinks. And Clint Merrick is out to prove her wrong. On all counts. And with style.

Sit back and enjoy a delightful tale that will make you smile and wish you could travel to Texas to meet Clint and Lacy.

Layla Chase knows how to evoke emotion and bring to life her characters. Nor does she hesitate throwing in heartbreak into their paradise when everything seems perfect. Her writing is rich and smooth, and her descriptions invite you into vivid settings. You can always count on humor, sensuality, and a good time in a story by Layla Chase.

Originally published in The Love Letter, the newsletter of the San Antonio Romance Authors, Chapter 41 of the Romance Writers of America.

A very Special Project Announced for the Opening of this Blog:

At The Wild Rose Press, Where Romance Blooms

Announcing the special release of On The Run All proceeds from this fabulous romantic suspense novel will be donated to St. Jude's Children's Hospital. Show your support today!

More from the Editor of The Wild Rose Press:

"We don't usually release books on Mondays but I asked RJ to give this book its own day of the week and she agreed. "On the Run", by Judith Rochelle is a Crimson Rose full length novel and is available today in electronic format and will be in print in a couple weeks.
This project deserves your attention because every dime will be donated to St. Jude's Children's Hospital. As writers we have been blessed with a talent that not just anyone has. We can say things that others read and understand and possibly learn about. We can spread information to our writing loops and organizations that reaches far across the country and into other nations. I hope that this is one time when you will take this and truly spread the word as only writers can. I've been very very blessed to have not only three very healthy sons, but cousins and nephews and nieces and children in my life who have been healthy and happy and strong.
Sometimes we all have to take a reality check and realize that there are families out there truly suffering due to their children's long term illnesses. Maybe some of these children are in your family and circle of friends. St. Jude's is an amazing hospital in Memphis, TN that supports and helps families and children of long term illnesses. I ask all of you to please copy the following information which is going to be posted on our web site tomorrow and foward to your loops everywhere. Together, all of us can raise some amazing money to help St. Jude's continue their work. Romance review sites, romance magazines and pretty much any web site we spoke to agreed to publicize this project.
Judith Rochelle, is one of our multipublished authors at The Wild Rose Press as well as a personal friend. In late summer, 2007 I approached her with an idea of a project that would enable RJ and me to give something back for all the wonderful things that had happened to us since we opened in May 2006. I wanted to find an organization that I felt everyone, everywhere would care about and really embrace. While many qualified, the one that kept coming back to my mind was St. Jude's Children's Hospital.
A few days later, Judith created a synopsis and a proposal for a book incorporating romance, suspense and St. Jude's. It took my breath away at what she'd come up with. Judith wrote the book, RJ and I edited it, and Kim Mendoza did the beautiful cover.
None of us, including the publishing company, will receive any compensation; every penny will go to St. Jude's. Children's Hospital The result of this, is the amazing Crimson Rose book called "On the Run" by Judith Rochelle. The book will be offered in both print and electronic format. The amount raised will be announced on our web site twice a year. The first report to be posted at the end of June 2008. If you've purchased this book, thank you for your contribution to St. Jude's, if you haven't purchased it yet, I strongly encourage you to do so. The download is $5.00 and will go into a special fund to be donated to St. Jude's twice a year. If you would like more information on this project, you may contact Rhonda Penders at rpenders@thewildrosepress.com. To learn more about the author, please visit www.judithrochelle.com. To see the amazing work St. Jude's does, please visit their web site at www.stjude.org. Thank you for your support of this important project. Rhonda Penders

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