Category Archives: books out

“It’s Time, Not Age” with Guest Natalie Damschroder

The other day, Cathy mentioned being 3F (female, fertile, and forty). Well, I’m 3F too, and the last F is really annoying me.

When I was younger, I used to get really annoyed by my “elders” (like my mother) blaming age on everything. Their minds were going because they left the coffee in the microwave after heating it. Three times. Short-term memory lapses, putting things where they weren’t supposed to be, and a million other details of daily living were blamed on getting old. It always sounded like a cop-out to me.

I didn’t want to be that way. And I’m fighting it, believe me! In fact, I think the problem is really a convergence of two things. Yes, we’re older, and maybe our brains are aging like our bodies. Or maybe, aging just happens to coincide with the busiest time of our lives. We have way too many things to think about, too much on our to-do lists and filling our schedule books.

Of course, I don’t like to blame my body breakdown on age, either. I’m not full of aches and pains because I’m 40, I’m full of aches and pains because I have three completely sedentary jobs that take too many hours a day and leave me behind and feeling guilty if I take time to exercise. I feel like I’m approaching a point of no return, though. I’m going to have to find a way to compromise.

One specific thing I used to make fun of my mother for, I now completely understand, though. It’s a function of time, though not of age. She used to have this super-old, super-stuffed address book. I’d look for something in it, and 20-year-old pieces of paper would fall out. Sections would be so full stuff was written in the margins. I picked on her for not cleaning it out, at least, and really thought she should have gotten a new one, transferred over the relevant, current dates.

Yeah. *snort* I so get it now.

My address book? I bought it my freshman year of college. Some of the people in it, I haven’t talked to since I graduated from high school. In 1988. I’m proud to say I only have four pieces of paper stuck in the front… You know what? Forget it. At least here, I can be self-righteous. My brother came home from Afghanistan months ago. *recycle* That business card can go in my business card file. *set aside* Those directions to Number One’s best friend’s house when she was 5? I used it once. And she’s 16 now. *recycle* And that username and password are for a credit card I haven’t used in a decade. *shred*

Where was I?

Oh, yeah! Call me a hypocrite, because I’m not giving up this book. Yes, the binding dried out and separated years ago. And the Js (my maiden name is Jacobus) and Rs (the Raffenetti branch moved a lot) are full and encroaching on nearby sections. But this is living history! I can’t remember Mark-from-Ichabod’s last name? I just flip through the first pages of each letter until I find him. (Daley!) It amuses me that in 23 years, I’ve never picked up a friend with a last name starting with E or I (Q, V, etc., are expected).

And you know what else? It will take too damned long to copy the current stuff over. And that’s what really matters.

~~~~~~~~~~~
The heroines in Natalie J. Damschroder’s upcoming releases may not be 3F quite yet, but they’re not ingenues, either. And they totally kick ass, literally as well as figuratively (which is the only way Natalie can manage it, herself).

Behind the Scenes October 31, 2011
A romantic adventure about a security expert who refuses to let her attraction to the movie star under her protection be a distraction…especially when it makes him a direct target.

Carina Press | Amazon | Barnes & Noble | Audible coming soon.

Under the Moon November 1, 2011
A paranormal romance about a modern-day goddess who teams up with her protector—and forbidden soulmate—to track down the leech who’s been stealing power from other goddesses.

Entangled Publishing | Amazon | Barnes & Noble

You can learn more about Natalie and her books at her website, eHarlequin, Goodreads, Twitter, and Facebook. She blogs with four other obsessed passionate Supernatural fans at Supernatural Sisters, with a number of fantastic romance authors at Everybody Needs a Little Romance, and just to hear herself talk at Indulge Yourself.

Posted in adventure, book coming out, books out, Carina, guest, paranormal, romance | 19 Comments

This, That, and an Excerpt from Rulebreaker

I love getting feedback. Between the blog and Twitter, I’ve received great responses to what to blog about next. The bread stealing bear drew the most interest, so I’ll tell you about him (or her, I don’t know. I didn’t get *that* close). After a conversation with my mother about holidays, I have more blog fodder. And finally, an excerpt from Rulebreaker.

BREAD BEAR
My husband did our quarterly Big Shopping while in Anchorage the other week. He fills the pickup with groceries to stock our pantry, freezer and refrigerator so we don’t have to buy a whole lot locally (love the local guys, but it’s pricey here). This time, he went a little overboard and we didn’t have room for some things in the house or in the outdoor freezer. Some loaves of bread and bagels were left in a cooler near our front porch.

Well, our new “neighbor” caught wind of this. The other morning, about 8 am, we heard a thumping near the front door. Husband turned on the porch light (it’s still kinda of dark at 8 am) a caught a glimpse of a young bear running off with a grocery bag of bread products. “Darn,” said husband. “I wanted French Toast.”

Ah well, such is life. We’d secured our garbage, but had no safe place to put the bread. No big loss. But then, unbeknownst to me at the time, Husband put a frozen gallon of milk in the same cooler. And left it outside to thaw slowly. That night, about 11 pm (definitely dark out) there was more thumping. Husband was asleep. I got up, went to the door and turned on the porch light. Lo and behold, the cooler was knocked over, a gallon of milk was bleeding out on my front walk, and I got to see a furry bear butt scuttle off into the night.

Damn it! Milk is expensive. Broom in hand, in case he returned, I grabbed the milk to let it finish thawing in the sink. There was no saving it, considering the sizable bite mark, but I didn’t want it out there encouraging a return visit either.

So, lesson learned. Hopefully Husband will remember this incident next time he gets his shopping groove on.

Oh, here’s an earlier post about our previous neighbor: Bear With Me


MOM’S FAVORITE HOLIDAY

I speak with my mom every couple of weeks or so. She lives back East, where I grew up, and takes the train into NYC from her Long Island home for work. Yesterday’s conversation led to a discussion of her favorite holiday. She told me she didn’t have to go to work today (October 10) because it was Columbus Day and everything was shut down.

“I love this holiday,” she said. “There’s no pressure, no reason to make a big meal or organize meeting with the family. You don’t have to go to church or feel particularly patriotic. It’s perfect.”

Happy Columbus Day, Mom.

And to all my Canadian friends, Happy Thanksgiving!


FROM : CHAPTER ONE

One of the three masked men raised his rifle and shot a short burst of energy pulses into the ceiling of the First Colonial Bank of Nevarro. Fft-fft-fft-fft-fft. Plaster hit the wood floor in a staccato patter louder than the shots themselves. Ozone, dust and cries of alarm filled the air.

The shooter swung the muzzle toward me. “I said, heads down, lady.”

Gut tight, I complied, imitating the others who had been caught inside the bank when the black-clad men had entered just before closing time. It wasn’t often that I stared into the dark, deadly hole of a weapon. I don’t recommend it as a regular activity.

“Everyone stay down and stay quiet,” he ordered. “We’ll be outta here in two minutes, and y’all can go home alive.”

One of the men in black escorted the teller and the manager to the back of the bank where the vault was. The guard, an elderly couple, my partner Calvin and I lay on our bellies, hands on the backs of our heads and cheeks to the rough wood. The elderly couple had come in to check on their savings.

Cal and I had come in to rob the place ourselves.

Despite the pulse pistol nestled under my clothes against the small of my back, and Cal’s gun tucked in a holster covered by his right pant leg, neither of us was inclined to play hero.

Cal turned his head away from the shooter to glare at me. “Only you, Liv,” he whispered fiercely, “would pick the exact same day to rob a bank as real criminals.”

Real criminals? I opened my mouth to loudly voice my indignation but snapped it shut. I’d already drawn enough attention to myself. Instead, I returned his harsh whisper. “We are real criminals. This is just poor timing.”

Cal and I had been planning this job for a while. The Exeter Mining Company deposited its employees’ pay during an undisclosed period each month to avoid such actions as, say, robbery. But Cal had finagled the schedule and amounts from a friend. Seventy-five thousand in cold, hard cash had been delivered to this bank in Milchner the day before. Many small-op contract miners preferred hard money to electronic transfer—fewer slipped digits and short changings to worry about.

We chose this branch because it was the most remote, the least secure and had the fewest personnel. Despite its lower take than a branch in one of the larger cities, like Pembroke, it was the perfect hit.

Apparently the competition thought so too.

“We should have done this sooner,” Cal grumbled.

“It’s not my fault my car died,” I said.

This had not been one of my luckier days, or months, or years for that matter. The job was supposed to go down last month, but fast transportation was a must. Cal only had access to a slower model Airvan. A week before the original hit date, the lifters on my somewhat newer, sleeker and more sensitive light air car went offline. Part of this take was earmarked to pay that bill. Damn the void.

And while PubTrans was an efficient mode for us working-class folks of Pembroke City, it was not the ideal getaway system. Besides, PubTrans didn’t run to way-the-hell-out-in-the-middle-of-nowhere towns like Milchner.

Before Cal could remind me we’d had ample opportunity in prior months, the black barrel of the second gunman’s rifle tapped down on his temple. Cal’s eyes widened. The breath caught in my chest.

My gaze traveled along the length of the rifle, hesitated where a gloved finger rested on the trigger, then up to the man’s face. I assumed it was a man; he looked tall and broad from my view from the floor.

Like the other two thieves, this one wore dark glasses and a garish cloth to mask his features. The hood of his black jacket covered his head. There would be no facial recognition program to help catch these guys even if this bank had decent video, which it didn’t. Yet another reason Cal and I had targeted it.

Black lenses reflected twin images of my prone body. The man raised his index finger and placed it against his mouth. Quiet.

I nodded, getting a splinter from the floor jabbed into my cheek for my troubles. The gunman moved away.

My stomach did a flip. I closed my eyes, trying not to puke as bile bit at the back of my throat. So this was what it felt like to be utterly helpless, to have complete strangers decide if you lived or died. The fear. The uncertainty. The praying they would just do their thing and go away without hurting anyone.

Somewhere behind me, the old lady began to sob quietly. Her husband made soft shushing noises, his voice shaky. I hoped the gunmen wouldn’t notice.

Forget about them, Liv, my brain ordered. You’ve got your own ass to keep alive. Right. Felon’s Rule Number One: Don’t get emotionally involved. I forced professional curiosity to replace victimization—the old couple’s and my own. I opened my eyes and took in as much of the scene as I could without lifting my head. Shooter at the door. Second gunman? Out of my line of sight for the moment.

What was the third man doing with the manager and teller? You only needed one or the other to open the vault. The money sat right there in its happy little lockboxes, which also required only one key. Why risk having to deal with two employees? These guys had a different technique than from mine and Cal’s, but now was not the time to open a discussion.

“Liv,” Cal whispered through unmoving lips. His dark eyes watched something behind me.

The soft scrape of a boot. The gunman had returned. I didn’t dare turn toward him. Cool, ion-hardened ceramic touched the back of my hands. I swallowed hard, eyes fixed on Cal.

The gunman didn’t speak. His palm skimmed the length of my leather jacket from shoulder to just above my buttocks. He pressed down, jabbing my pistol into my spine, then moved the tails of the jacket and shirt aside, exposing the waist of my trousers. And the gun. Like he knew it would be there.

My gut quivered. Shit! If he took me for a lawman, I was dead.

“Tsk tsk tsk,” he whispered close to my ear. He eased the gun out, resting it on the bared skin of my back. His gloved fingers slid under my trousers. My muscles stiffened when he tickled my tailbone just below the waistband of my bikini panties. “Got anything else there?”

His hand trailed back up to my gun, and its weight disappeared. The barrel of his rifle nudged the back of my hands. “You’re quite lucky today, amante. Quite lucky.”

Amante. Lover.

Only one person used that word with me, and he’d lost the privilege three years ago.

Tonio Calderon.

Over the indignation and disbelief buzzing in my head, activity from near the vault told me the job was done.

The bastard leaned closer. His breath warmed my ear. “Gotta go, darlin’.”
He dragged a finger up my spine then was gone.

My body shivered in memory of his touch while my mind screamed. No! No no no, double damn the void, NO! This went beyond poor timing.

My ex-husband had just felt me up, taken my gun and spoiled my hit.

* * *

“Here’s your water, Miss Braxton.” Sheriff Nathan Sterling set the heavy glass tumbler in front of me and resumed his seat on the other side of the table. He wasn’t particularly tall, only a dozen centis over my 167. But his dark uniform with its shiny badge, his broad shoulders and erect posture made him seem bigger.

“Thank you,” I said and took a sip of tepid water.

We sat in the windowless, overheated interview room of the Milchner sheriff’s station. Like most of Milchner—and Nevarro, for that matter—the room and the station had seen better days. Peeling paint and rickety furniture proclaimed the sheriff department’s lack of budget.

Sterling shuffled through a few sheets of synth paper on the table. Paper. I swallowed a chuckle with another sip. No handhelds in sight, and the bulky System Interface terminals in the main office were about a decade behind the rest of civilization. How did they chase down criminals? With a posse on horseback? Just as long as they didn’t go in for lynching, I’d be fine.

A thin scar running across his forehead blended with frown lines as he read my statement. “You went into the bank to withdraw some cash.” His blue eyes met mine. “Your ID says you’re from Pembroke. What’s your business in our little burg?”

Cal and I had worked out details well beforehand. “My friend and I were taking a weekend trip. We needed a room.”

That was a lie, but the fleabag hotel we’d scoped out only took hard money, not credit vouchers or weepy promises. Though the guy behind the desk was scary enough that he probably would’ve taken a kidney or small child as payment. The trade in both was rampant on some worlds.

Sterling quirked a dark blond brow at me. “You were gonna stay at the Milchner Arms?”

I gave him a weary smile. “It’s the only hotel in town. We’re tired and poor.”

This part was true, hence our plan to rob the bank.

He held my gaze for a moment. As he stared, his right eye drifted, shifting its focus to the wall. Artificial organ. And a cheap one at that, if it couldn’t hold position. If the Milchner constabulary couldn’t afford decent furniture, why was I surprised its sheriff received second-rate eye replacement?

The sheriff rubbed the corner of his eye, setting it back into place before nodding. “All right. Tell me what happened.”

Despite the fact he had my full statement right in front of his baby blues—at least the colors matched—the lawman wanted to see if there were any discrepancies in my story. To see if I’d left out any details of the robbery, which I hadn’t. Or was lying about anything, which I was, but he’d never know it. Lawmen were suspicious types; “trust no one” was their mantra. I could relate.

I cleared my throat. “Cal and I had come in to get some cash. It was getting late, and the bank was about to close.” Classic time for a hit. The robbers knew it. Sterling probably knew it. But I sure as hell wasn’t going to admit I knew it. “Before we got up to the teller’s cage, these three guys in black burst in, hit the guard and pointed guns at us. They told us to lay on the floor, and we did.”

My hands clenched on the table. Sterling probably thought it was a reaction to the frightening situation I’d been through. Actually it was from being torqued that our plans had been thwarted. Again. The idea of switching careers had crossed my mind more than once since this afternoon.

“What about the teller and the manager?” he asked.

“One of the men yelled to them to come out from behind the cage. I guess they did. I couldn’t see them, but I heard movement when the gunman told them to hurry up.”

The reason the robbers needed both people still niggled at the back of my brain.

He tapped on the table and rested his other hand against his face, two fingers pressed against the corner of his right eye. “One of the other witnesses says you were approached by a gunman. Want to tell me about that?”

I shifted on the wooden chair. “It’s in my statement.” Mostly.

“If you don’t mind, I’d like to hear it out loud, Miss Braxton.”

Like the distraught victim I was supposed to be, I dropped my gaze to my hands encircling the tumbler and waited for him to prompt me again. I didn’t have to wait long.

“I realize this is difficult for you,” he said in the lawman tone of sympathetic interrogation, “but we need your help if we’re gonna catch these guys.”

That brought my eyes up to his. “Do you think you will?”

I hoped I sounded more like a justice-seeking victim than a vengeful ex. But oh, to have Tonio and his new little gang tossed into a Colonial Correctional Mine for a dozen or so years would make my year. Teach the bastards for messing up my hit.

“I can’t make any guarantees, but every little bit helps.” Sterling’s earnest desire to see the bad guys put away was admirable. He actually seemed competent, an unusual trait in backwater lawmen. Though I’d rather have been the one to make the hit, I was glad it wasn’t me he sought.

“All right.” I took another sip of water. “We were all lying on the floor. I said something to Cal about how scared I was. One of the men stuck his gun against Cal’s head.” I swallowed hard, remembering the look in Cal’s eyes when he felt the barrel.

Sheriff Sterling asked, “Did he say anything?”

I shook my head. “No. He just raised his finger to his lips.” I demonstrated. “Then he left us alone.”

“But he came back to you. Touched you.”

Renewed indignation seared my cheeks. “Yes,” I whispered. “He put his gun to my head.” I’d never forgive Tonio for that little bit of theatrics.

Sterling leaned forward, his forearms on the table. “Mr. Crosby, the elderly gentleman, said the gunman crouched down beside you. What did he do?”

Took my gun and copped a feel. But the first part wasn’t in any statement and never would be. My pulse pistol wasn’t exactly legal. Between its scatter coat to deflect security detection and not being registered, merely possessing it was an automatic five years in the CCM.

“He ran his hand along my back and—” I let my voice break appropriately, “—and m-my backside.”

Phantom fingers sent tingles up my spine. Damn Tonio for having that effect on me after three years!

The sheriff’s jaw clenched and cold fire glinted in his eyes. “Slag mucker,” he muttered. Apparently, taking advantage of a woman while holding a gun on her was one of his pet peeves. “Did he say anything?”

“Just that he was s-sorry they didn’t have more time.” I let my gaze drop again. Total lie, but it made Tonio look that much worse to Sterling, which made me feel somewhat better.

“Anything else?” he asked. I shook my head, too “distraught” to look him in the eye. “Do you think you could recognize him? His voice?”

Sure I could, Sheriff, because he’s my ex-husband. I haven’t seen or heard from him in three years, but I clearly recall his voice, his touch.

And when I help you nab him, Tonio will be happy to tell you all about how he knew me. How we’d hit banks, mercantiles and jewelry stores from Weaver to Hawkins’ Rock before landing here on Nevarro.

I shook my head again, hard enough to rattle thoughts of vengeance out and some sense back in. “No, I don’t think so.”

Sterling’s eyes locked on mine again. “I know you’re scared, Olivia.”

Uh-oh. Lawmen used your given name to make you feel like they were your friend. Had I been nothing more than a victim of groping and robbery, I would have felt safe and secure knowing Sheriff Nathan Sterling was my pal. But with a friend like him, I’d get a quick ride to the CCM myself if I wasn’t careful.

“These men will keep on with their thieving,” he continued. “They’ll keep terrorizing old people and assaulting young women like yourself.”

Sympathy with a side of guilt. He was good.

Hands clenched, I dug a fingernail into my palm and let tears flow. “I know he’d have hurt me if he could, but I don’t think I’ll be of any help, Sheriff.” I hung my head. A soft sob escape my throat and I whispered, “I’m sorry.”

Sterling laid one of his red, chapped hands over mine. I wondered if it was real or another replacement part. “It’s all right. Thanks for your help.” He stood up , the scrape of the chair covering my sniffles. “I’ll get in touch with you in Pembroke if I have any more questions. Will you be heading back there tonight?”

I looked up at him and wiped away my crocodile tears. “Yes. It’s a long ride, but Cal and I decided we just want to go home.” I stood, offering a wan smile. “Thank you, Sheriff. I hope you catch those men.”

I did and I didn’t, but I had to mouth the appropriate words.

Sterling nodded then held the door open for me. Cal waited on a bench in the hall. The older couple had been interviewed before us and was nowhere to be seen. My partner stood but didn’t approach.

“Just out of curiosity,” I said turning back to the sheriff, “how much did the robbers get?”

He gave me a hard look for about a second before his features softened. “Don’t know. They didn’t take the cash sitting right there. They took the contents of some safe deposit boxes.”

That explained the need for both the manager and the teller.

It took every gram of willpower for me to merely nod and walk away. The bastards messed up our hit and didn’t take the cash? Worse, there must have been something more valuable in those safe deposit boxes. Something Cal and I had no idea about. Now I felt inept as well as pathetic.

I was going to kill Tonio if I saw him again.
**********

Rulebreaker
is available at Carina Press, Amazon, B&N, and other fine ebook retailers : )

**********
Legal stuff:
The bear image was originally posted to Flickr by HBarrison at http://flickr.com/photos/10299779@N03/2874265346 . Thanks for letting me share!

Rulebreaker text and cover is copyrighted by me ahd Harlequin Enterprises, respectively. Please DON’T share without permission.

Posted in Alaska, books out, critters, on my mind, Rulebreaker | 2 Comments

WRITING A SF NOVEL PART 4: THE WRITING PROCESS–Guest author Robert Appleton


How lucky we are! SF author Robert Appleton is here today with the next installment of his five part series AND this is the release day for his newest book, Sparks in the Cosmic Dust from Carina Press!

WRITING A SF NOVEL PART 4: THE WRITING PROCESS

Or Thru the Black Hole

iPod fully charged. Check. Assorted Jerry Goldsmith, John Williams, James Horner, Holst and other cosmic composers set to continuous play. Check. Phone off. Check. John Carter of Mars & Dejah Thoris and Luke & Yoda posters nicely lit on the wall. Check. Sisyphean mindset in place. Um, check. Genius in place. I wish. Ideas racing at light speed. CHECK-CHECK-CHECK…

It’s hard to describe the moment-to-moment process of actually writing the book without sounding pretty insane. Sure, I’m using the craft I’ve learned painstakingly over years of storytelling. I can describe to you the structure and the characters and the worldbuilding and how to create tension and emotion. But what I can’t tell you is exactly how I combine all those, moment to moment, to spin the threads uniquely mine.

Without coming across as too goofy, I will say that while anyone with a competent grasp of language can learn the nuts and bolts required to write a novel, you have to take it far beyond that. Not that I’ve mastered this gig yet—I don’t think you ever really do—but what makes a strong piece of storytelling stand out from the crowd is, for me, something that can’t be taught. It’s the moment to moment intuition, the descriptive flights of fancy, the feel for tension and emotion in a given scenario, the insights into human behaviour you’ve picked up over a lifetime. You don’t know for sure they’re going to work on the page but you trust your instincts anyway.

Writing is generating those sparks in cosmic dust and using them to light your way.

You can’t be that intense all the time, of course. Knowing when to step off the gas is just as important in novel writing. You don’t want to exhaust the reader. And the best way to ensure that is to keep the writing smooth and natural: pacing is another intuitive skill, probably the easiest one to get wrong when you’re wrapped up in the grammar mechanics and the plot points and the million other factors jostling for your attention. There comes a point where you have to just glide and let your instincts take over, otherwise you’d be agonising for a year over each chapter.

The hardest scenes for me to write in Sparks in Cosmic Dust were those with group dialogue. It’s like acting all the parts in a play on your own, and each character has to have a unique voice while also driving the story forward. I’m at my best with one on one dialogue—I like generating friction in the backs and forths—but in a five-strong group, it’s harder to settle into a groove. It’s also hard to give each character equal weight. While it’s often necessary to focus on one or two in the scene, you have to at least consider the others’ POV, even if they’re not speaking.

The easiest chapters were, strangely enough, the action scenes. There are quite a few in Sparks, especially in the second half. But I’ve found from past experience that my action scenes flow much better if I write them in one go. The ebb and flow requires continuity, and any time I have to stop-start, I lose that momentum. One extended chase/fight scene ending on the beach of Zopyrus I had to spread over two chapters, but I made sure I got the whole thing done in two days. It also had an emotional climax, which may have ultimately worked better because I was so exhausted. The desperation the characters felt mirrored my own.

I outlined thirty-odd chapters before I wrote Sparks, giving a paragraph for each chapter. That’s always the most critical part of novel writing for me in that the story arcs have to work in condensed form before I even think about embarking on the journey into the black hole. Chapters evolve as I write, but for the most part that initial outline is close to the end product.

It took me three months to write Sparks, and another one to edit it before submission. That’s a pretty quick turnaround, especially the latter part. I think the confidence gained from having written four previous novels allowed me to loosen up and trust my intuition this time. The result is my most ambitious and probably my most consistent SF book yet.

Today is launch day for Sparks in Cosmic Dust! Woohoo! To celebrate, I’m posting a five-part look at the book’s development, from initial concept to book launch. I’m also giving away one SF title from my back catalogue with each segment, ending with a special Sparks giveaway. The winners will be all announced on September 30th on my own blog: http://robertbappleton.blogspot.com

Here’s where you can find the other installments:

Part 1: Concept (Aug 31)—Contact: Infinite Futures Blog
Part 2: Character (Sep 13)—Mercurial Times (my blog)
Part 4: The Writing Process (Sep 23)—Shawn Kupfer’s Blog
Part 5: Publication (Sep 28)—Carina Press Blog

With this fourth installment, I’m giving away one set of The Eleven Hour Fall trilogy ebooks. To enter, either leave a comment here on Cathy’s blog or send me an email at sevenmercury7@aol.com with SPARKS GIVEAWAY FOUR in the subject line. Don’t forget to give your name.

Good luck!

Posted in books out, Carina, guest, SF, win stuff, writing | 6 Comments

A Little Perception with Heather Cashman


Finding new-to-me authors and sharing their fabulous stories with folks is one of my favorite things to do. Becoming friends with them is a perk I will never grow tired of.

Today, I have the lovely and gracious Heather Cashman here. I was supposed to have Heather visit last week, but I totally dropped the ball and she agreed to do a super quick gathering of material for me.

Her novel Perception: Book One of the Tiger Eye Trilogy is a lush YA fantasy:

Your perception will sharpen once you see through a tiger’s eyes.

More than five hundred years after the apocalypse, the survivors of off-grid genetic experimentation have refined their mixed DNA to the point that humans and their animal counterparts share physical and mental links. Varying species have divided into districts, living in a tenuous peace under the President of Calem.

Ardana and her tiger ingenium Rijan leave their life of exile and abuse in the Outskirts, setting out with their twin brothers to redeem themselves and become citizens of the Center. But shedding their past isn’t as easy as they had hoped. When the system that shunned them becomes embroiled in political conflict and treachery, their unique abilities and experiences from the Outskirts make them invaluable to every faction. The runaways become pawns to friends as well as enemies, and with every step it becomes more difficult to tell which is which.


I asked Heather a few questions about her writing and life in general.

How long have you been writing and what prompted you to begin?

HC: I’ve been writing seriously for about five years now, but have loved to write ever since I was in elementary school. During the mundane tasks of the day (laundry, dishes), my mind would wander to far off locations. I would entertain myself with imagination. When my children went to school, I found a few hours to begin writing the stories down. It took me a long time to study how to write, and I am still working on making my writing better every day.

What is it about your preferred genre(s) that interests you most?

HC: I like Fantasy. It’s like creating something all your own, completely unique, where anything goes and you set the rules.

Perception is set in an amazing world full of complex characters. What do you like best about creating such a fantastic setting? What is the hardest part?

HC: I think what I enjoyed the most was discovering the world. It was like taking a really amazing vacation. The most difficult part was taking something I saw so clearly and writing it in such a way that someone else could visualize it, though I’m not sure anyone will ever see it quite the way I do. The original manuscript was over 150,000 words, a lot of which was setting that I cut out to tighten it.

Are the other books out or coming soon? What else are you working on?

HC: YES! I am hoping to have book two, Deception, out by December 1st, but I want to make sure it is top quality before I release it. So Dec. 1st is not a set date, just a goal. The final book, Insurrection, should be out mid-2012. I am also writing a prequel, Resurrection, that will be out late 2012.

My other project is a YA Urban Fantasy, which I hope to have finished by the end of this year.

Juggling work, family and a writing career can take its toll. How do you keep the balance? What do you do for yourself (other than write)?

HC: Deep breath. I accept the wrinkles appearing from lack of sleep, try to keep my head up, and remember that I am doing this because I love to write, not because I care how many books I’ve sold. I actually wrote an article for a fellow author that you can find here called “Staying On the Roof.” It talks about finding balance through tradition (of all things).

What I do for myself–my kids call them “Blow-out Nights.” I buy about fifteen kinds of junk food, set them in bowls on the coffee table, and we watch back-to-back episodes of the shows we’ve missed. I go to bed sometime the next morning feeling sick. Somehow it cures me.

Sounds like you’re a busy woman who knows how to keep things in perspective! Thanks for coming by, Heather!

Find Perception
at Heather’s
or on Amazon
or Barnes&Noble Nook

Find Heather
at her website, on her blog, or on Twitter

Heather Cashman graduated from the University of Arizona with a Bachelor’s degree in Biochemistry but has always loved to write, winning her first contest in the second grade. Married since 1992, she has three unique children and has moved from Arizona to New York to Kansas. She loves to kayak and canoe down the windiest rivers she can find. She welcomes opportunities to visit schools, libraries, and book groups in person or via Skype. Born in Tucson, Arizona, Heather currently lives near Wichita, Kansas with her husband and three children.

Posted in books out, Fantasy, guest | 6 Comments

A Little Perception with Heather Cashman


Finding new-to-me authors and sharing their fabulous stories with folks is one of my favorite things to do. Becoming friends with them is a perk I will never grow tired of.

Today, I have the lovely and gracious Heather Cashman here. I was supposed to have Heather visit last week, but I totally dropped the ball and she agreed to do a super quick gathering of material for me.

Her novel Perception: Book One of the Tiger Eye Trilogy is a lush YA fantasy:

Your perception will sharpen once you see through a tiger’s eyes.

More than five hundred years after the apocalypse, the survivors of off-grid genetic experimentation have refined their mixed DNA to the point that humans and their animal counterparts share physical and mental links. Varying species have divided into districts, living in a tenuous peace under the President of Calem.

Ardana and her tiger ingenium Rijan leave their life of exile and abuse in the Outskirts, setting out with their twin brothers to redeem themselves and become citizens of the Center. But shedding their past isn’t as easy as they had hoped. When the system that shunned them becomes embroiled in political conflict and treachery, their unique abilities and experiences from the Outskirts make them invaluable to every faction. The runaways become pawns to friends as well as enemies, and with every step it becomes more difficult to tell which is which.


I asked Heather a few questions about her writing and life in general.

How long have you been writing and what prompted you to begin?

HC: I’ve been writing seriously for about five years now, but have loved to write ever since I was in elementary school. During the mundane tasks of the day (laundry, dishes), my mind would wander to far off locations. I would entertain myself with imagination. When my children went to school, I found a few hours to begin writing the stories down. It took me a long time to study how to write, and I am still working on making my writing better every day.

What is it about your preferred genre(s) that interests you most?

HC: I like Fantasy. It’s like creating something all your own, completely unique, where anything goes and you set the rules.

Perception is set in an amazing world full of complex characters. What do you like best about creating such a fantastic setting? What is the hardest part?

HC: I think what I enjoyed the most was discovering the world. It was like taking a really amazing vacation. The most difficult part was taking something I saw so clearly and writing it in such a way that someone else could visualize it, though I’m not sure anyone will ever see it quite the way I do. The original manuscript was over 150,000 words, a lot of which was setting that I cut out to tighten it.

Are the other books out or coming soon? What else are you working on?

HC: YES! I am hoping to have book two, Deception, out by December 1st, but I want to make sure it is top quality before I release it. So Dec. 1st is not a set date, just a goal. The final book, Insurrection, should be out mid-2012. I am also writing a prequel, Resurrection, that will be out late 2012.

My other project is a YA Urban Fantasy, which I hope to have finished by the end of this year.

Juggling work, family and a writing career can take its toll. How do you keep the balance? What do you do for yourself (other than write)?

HC: Deep breath. I accept the wrinkles appearing from lack of sleep, try to keep my head up, and remember that I am doing this because I love to write, not because I care how many books I’ve sold. I actually wrote an article for a fellow author that you can find here called “Staying On the Roof.” It talks about finding balance through tradition (of all things).

What I do for myself–my kids call them “Blow-out Nights.” I buy about fifteen kinds of junk food, set them in bowls on the coffee table, and we watch back-to-back episodes of the shows we’ve missed. I go to bed sometime the next morning feeling sick. Somehow it cures me.

Sounds like you’re a busy woman who knows how to keep things in perspective! Thanks for coming by, Heather!

Find Perception
at Heather’s
or on Amazon
or Barnes&Noble Nook

Find Heather
at her website, on her blog, or on Twitter

Heather Cashman graduated from the University of Arizona with a Bachelor’s degree in Biochemistry but has always loved to write, winning her first contest in the second grade. Married since 1992, she has three unique children and has moved from Arizona to New York to Kansas. She loves to kayak and canoe down the windiest rivers she can find. She welcomes opportunities to visit schools, libraries, and book groups in person or via Skype. Born in Tucson, Arizona, Heather currently lives near Wichita, Kansas with her husband and three children.

Posted in books out, Fantasy, guest | 6 Comments

Don’t Fear the Research with Guest Sarah Mäkelä

Hello, Blogger Buddies! I have another New Author Friend to share with you! Please give futuristic/paranormal romance author Sarah Mäkelä a warm welcome!

Don’t Fear the Research

Research is something almost integral to any writer since while we might know a lot, usually what we write about sometimes delves into what we don’t know. That was something I did with the two series I have right now, one is a futuristic cyberpunk romance with a private investigator and a technomage (Hacked Investigations) and the other is a paranormal romance about a village in the Amazon Rainforest that mingles with shapeshifters (The Amazon Chronicles).

When I first started out with Jungle Heat, I did my research first and then supplemented it while writing. I went all out, finding out about the Amazon warriors who fought Spanish explorer and conquistador Francisco de Orellana and his men, where they fought, what happened, and everything else I could about the culture of those people that I could. I also learned about the kinds of animals and weather to better wrap my head around how the women live. You could say I pretty much geeked out.

It was a good experience since I learned not to be afraid of research. I don’t have to be restricted to what I know just because I’ll have to dig around and find out more information on town/item/culture. Will you find out everything and be able to make your writing 100% believable to someone who knows the subject very well? That’d be great, but it’s important to do the best you can. Some people will spot minute details only a person intimately familiar with the town/item/culture and will put the book down. That’s on them.

Here’s roughly my process for research. First off, I go to Wikipedia, and then I’ll fact check with Google. If there’s not much information online, I head to my local library. It’s important to get the information you want while researching, but also allow yourself to delve into what you might not know you want, but then that’s easy for me since I love learning. Besides, it’s great for when you’re writing the next book, and you find a way to use what you’ve found out!

Do you find research fun or frightening? Do you have any tips that make it easier?

Sarah Mäkelä
Dark Magical Encounters of Passion…
Website: www.sarahmakela.com
Blog: http://blog.sarahmakela.com
Twitter: www.twitter.com/sarahmakela
Facebook: www.facebook.com/authorsarahmakela

Here’s the blurb for my newest release, Jungle Heat. I hope you enjoy it! If you’re interested, the excerpt is available here.

The Amazon Rainforest still contains a few secrets. One of these secrets is a hidden village of women whose history is filled with the horror of conquering men.

Adara Rukan, princess of the Amazons, ventures away from her village to find something waiting for her. Andrei “Rei” Makarov is a weretiger and a biologist on assignment. Can Rei and Adara find love enough to bridge their two separate worlds?

Jungle Heat is available now from Changeling Press: Buy Link

Posted in books out, guest, paranormal, romance | 8 Comments

Inspiration: Getting Between the Sheets with Louisa Bacio

I love getting to know authors, especially those who are new to me. And I want you to get to know them too! In that spirit, I’ll be having guests drop in now and again. Starting now 🙂

First up is author Louisa Bacio. Louisa writes hot (and I mean HOT) f/f contemporary and paranormal stories. Please make Louisa feel welcome.

Want to get to know me a little better? How my mind works? Slip between the cool sheets on this hot summer day, and let’s talk a little about my latest release Sex University: All-Girls Academy, which is a f/f contemporary erotic.

For those unfamiliar with the term, f/f translates into lesbian.

And immediately when one starts to write f/f fiction, many ponder the question on the writer’s sexuality and life choices. Those who have read me before must realize that I believe in equal-opportunity love. It’s not about the gender, it’s about the individual or individuals.

Now, with that out of the way … let’s move on to another topic that often comes up with writing, and that’s inspiration. With Sex University: All-Girls Academy, it began with a few characters whispering sweet nothings to me late at night. It all began with my first full-length novel in the Sex University “Universe,” Physical Education.

Strong female characters draw me. My mother always stressed not to be a “victim,” and to take control of one’s life. The character of Officer Margaret was seen briefly in Physical Education, but readers really get to know her story here. We slide into that uniform with her, so to speak. And, she shucks it off and transforms from “Marge” into “Maggie.”

Next there’s Ms. Lucy, headmistress of the schools. She’s another returning character – and her story’s not quite finished yet – but we primarily delve into the life of her niece, Savannah. Like her Aunt, Savannah wants to escape from her ultra-conservative home life, and experience something new, which brings her to the All-Girls Academy.

Also populating the Academy is a number of other strong-willed women. A favorite will be the Italian art teacher Antoinella who instructs on, among other things, the art of body painting.

Is it getting hot in here or is it just me? Anyway, thanks to the lovely Cathy for hosting me today. I’m very much looking forward to her upcoming release, too.

Now, if you don’t mind, I think it’s naptime …

Sex University: All-Girls Academy

Raised by an over-controlling and manipulative father, Savannah “Van” Morgan flees the East Coast for the West, seeking sanctuary with her Aunt Lucy, headmistress of San Francisco Sex University. Rather than staying at the main campus, Van enrolls in SFSU’s more nurturing “sister” school, the All-Girls Academy.

After visiting the main campus of SFSU, Margaret “Maggie” O’Neil hangs up her police badge in search of new experiences and hoping to awaken her own dormant sexuality.

With subject matters such as an “Art Sex-education” class with an Italian visiting professor who’s more than happy to schedule private tutoring after-hours, the All-Girls Academy invites all sorts of sexual exploration. In the end, Van and Maggie will either fall victim to the pressures of society, or come together to save each other.

****************************

Louisa Bacio enjoys soaking up the sun in Southern California, and spending time with her family.

To see how the story started, check out Bacio’s erotic thriller Sex University: Physical Education. Her story “Two’s Company” can be found in I Kissed a Girl: A Virgin Lesbian Anthology. For those who love paranormal ménage, check out the hot “The Vampire, The Witch & The Werewolf: A New Orleans Threesome.”

In addition to writing and editing, Bacio teaches college courses in English, journalism, film studies and popular culture.

Drop in for a visit:
http://louisabacio.blogspot.com
http://www.facebook.com/louisabacio
http://www.twitter.com/louisabacio

Want to win a copy of Sex University: All-Girls Academy? Leave a comment … any comment will do! One random entry will be selected to win a .pdf copy.

Posted in books out, guest, win stuff | 13 Comments

Maria Zannini’s “Apocalypse Rising”

Woo Hoo! Another book to pimp! I mean, recommend. Granted, I haven’t read Apocalypse Rising yet, but I did read the first book, Touch of Fire, so I’m familiar with the characters and their situation. And knowing what I do about how Maria Zannini writes and builds her worlds, I’m sure I won’t be disappointed in her latest offering.

Congrats on the release, Maria!

(Sorry I don’t have a cover image! Go to Maria’s site. Like all Carina Press covers, it’s amazing! And her cover for Touch of Fire is pretty dang hot too!)

Posted in books out, Fantasy, romance | 2 Comments

Bella Street’s “Kiss Me, I’m Irish”

One of the great things about the internet is hooking up (no, not *that* kind of hooking up) with people who share interests. Writing is no different in that respect, and the beauty of digital publishing is when you find a new author you can immediately download and read their books.

Bella Street and I are members of the same writers’ loop. We “met” when I asked about blog tours and we hit it off. Bella is the author of paranormal romances (and a So I Married an Axe Murderer fan, so you know she’s cool 😉 with a new release out called Kiss Me, I’m Irish.

Here’s the blurb:

In 1830, Emily Musgrave is heading to a convent for misbehavior. In modern-day Tennessee, Liam Jackson is playing his Dobro in seedy bars. It’s doing nothing for his career and even less for the dark places in his soul.

Pixie mischief can not only change time-lines, it can change hearts. Because sometimes a girl just needs a little magic in her life.

Here’s an excerpt:

He stared at her without answering. Emily returned his gaze, realizing this was the first time she’d seen him in full light. His hair was coal black and mussed from sleep. His skin, tan and ruddy, as if he were a field laborer. And his eyes were the intense blue of a milkwort blossom, with a telltale darker ring around the outer edge of the irises. Of course! With a name like Liam she should’ve realized it sooner. He wasn’t a gypsy at all.

He was an Irishman.

That meant this was some form of purgatory. Jem, Donnelly, and Our Lady of the Portal had had their revenge after all.

Crinkles formed at the edges of Liam’s eyes. “So you’re still holding to the story that you’re from another time?”

“I believe I’ve already made it clear I don’t tell falsehoods, Mr…” She bit her lip. “As we have not yet properly been introduced, I’m afraid I am ignorant of your formal title.”

“My last name is Jackson, but you can call me Liam.”

“Well, Mr. Jackson,” she said, lifting her chin, “I am Miss Emily Musgrave recently of Trethwick Hall, Truro, Cornwall, 1813.”

And here are the purchase links:
Amazon link

Smashwords link

Emily is out of her element, but with the help of musicians Liam and his sister Tinker, she gets a quick education about 21st century living. It’s a sweet time travel tale set in the South that has fun characters and interesting twists. I enjoyed it quite a bit and look forward to reading more of her work.

Check out Bella’s Kiss Me, I’m Irish and bring a little magic into your life.

Posted in books out, Fantasy, paranormal, romance, writing | 4 Comments

Bella Street’s “Kiss Me, I’m Irish”

One of the great things about the internet is hooking up (no, not *that* kind of hooking up) with people who share interests. Writing is no different in that respect, and the beauty of digital publishing is when you find a new author you can immediately download and read their books.

Bella Street and I are members of the same writers’ loop. We “met” when I asked about blog tours and we hit it off. Bella is the author of paranormal romances (and a So I Married an Axe Murderer fan, so you know she’s cool 😉 with a new release out called Kiss Me, I’m Irish.

Here’s the blurb:

In 1830, Emily Musgrave is heading to a convent for misbehavior. In modern-day Tennessee, Liam Jackson is playing his Dobro in seedy bars. It’s doing nothing for his career and even less for the dark places in his soul.

Pixie mischief can not only change time-lines, it can change hearts. Because sometimes a girl just needs a little magic in her life.

Here’s an excerpt:

He stared at her without answering. Emily returned his gaze, realizing this was the first time she’d seen him in full light. His hair was coal black and mussed from sleep. His skin, tan and ruddy, as if he were a field laborer. And his eyes were the intense blue of a milkwort blossom, with a telltale darker ring around the outer edge of the irises. Of course! With a name like Liam she should’ve realized it sooner. He wasn’t a gypsy at all.

He was an Irishman.

That meant this was some form of purgatory. Jem, Donnelly, and Our Lady of the Portal had had their revenge after all.

Crinkles formed at the edges of Liam’s eyes. “So you’re still holding to the story that you’re from another time?”

“I believe I’ve already made it clear I don’t tell falsehoods, Mr…” She bit her lip. “As we have not yet properly been introduced, I’m afraid I am ignorant of your formal title.”

“My last name is Jackson, but you can call me Liam.”

“Well, Mr. Jackson,” she said, lifting her chin, “I am Miss Emily Musgrave recently of Trethwick Hall, Truro, Cornwall, 1813.”

And here are the purchase links:
Amazon link

Smashwords link

Emily is out of her element, but with the help of musicians Liam and his sister Tinker, she gets a quick education about 21st century living. It’s a sweet time travel tale set in the South that has fun characters and interesting twists. I enjoyed it quite a bit and look forward to reading more of her work.

Check out Bella’s Kiss Me, I’m Irish and bring a little magic into your life.

Posted in books out, Fantasy, paranormal, romance, writing | 4 Comments