Killer Fiction

Leslie Langtry Rides Again...

2012-02-29T03:58:00.000-06:00

Okaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaay... I'm finally gonna do it..................
By this time next week, THE ADULTERER'S UNOFFICIAL GUIDE TO FAMILY VACATIONS will be up for sale at all the usual places. I'm hoping to have it available in paperback form in a month.

And I'm a nervous wreck.

This is my first, non-Bombay book. And it's a totally different book than my Bombay books. First of all, it's very naughty. There's a lot of explicit sex in it. This means that no relative of mine (possibly including people at work I'd have to look at every day) can never read it. Really, I'll be misinterpreting snickers at family gatherings for the next year.

Second - it's a bit controversial. I know, I know, the Bombay books were considered controversial too. But this one is different. Two married people have an affair on a family vacation. Three out of my four early readers loved it. One hated it. I don't NEED to be loved by all my readers. And I tend to laugh at the wacky reviews on Amazon. But this person HATED it. That scares me a little.

Third - I'm just a nervous wreck. I'm just that way. Every time one of my books came out, I cringed. Reviewers always liked them but that didn't matter.

But this time is different. I'm doing it myself. There's no editor to say I can't have a reference to bear sodomy or that it's blonde not blond (which, by the way, I still don't get). It's 100% risk and it's all on me if it flops.

So we will see what happens. I'll give you an update. Once I come out from under the couch, that is...

The Assassin

The Place Where the Magic Happens

2012-02-28T03:30:00.007-06:00

Hey, y'all. Come on in. This is my office, the place where I write all my Christie Craig and Shadow Falls novels. Or, as I like to think of it, it's the place where the magic happens. And before Hubby comes running in here, thinking I'm sharing too much with you guys again, I need to clarify something. I don’t mean that kind of magic. I’m talking book-writing magic. And my magic happens here in my office. Well, sometimes it happens in the shower. And I’m still talking about book-writing magic.

Yes, this is where I write my books. It's where I clear my mind, become one with the world, and use my creative intellect to brainstorm things like tampons being used as guns, and heroines grabbing plungers and toilet lids and wielding them as weapons. It's where I came up with all those things I did to poor Jose in Shut Up and Kiss Me. (Well, except for the ones I based on crazy things Hubby did.) Yup, a lot of whacky crap has been born in this room. Now, sure, it looks like a normal office. You'll see my cat Bob taking a snooze. Bob loves his cat naps. And then there's our dog, the free junkyard dog, Lady, (who by the way is up to costing us $1,200) sitting on the sofa and looking so cute I just want to hug her. (And at $1,200, she’d darn well better look cute!) Not that she ever stays still for that long. Usually, she'll jump off the sofa and wake up Bob because she just knows he wants to play with her. (Um…just in case there are any other clueless dogs out there, here's some good info for you to have: Cats don't like to be awakened from a cat nap. Ever. And they really don't like it when they wake up to find a dog with their nose in some unwanted place, saying “Let’s play.”) Nope. Just so not gonna happen. But what does happen is Bob hisses, takes a few paw swipes, bolts out of the chair, and Lady shrugs it off as Bob’s way of playing, and they go ripping through my study, knocking everything left and right.

But don't worry about the animals. Come on in and take a closer look at my office. Check out the bookcases. Do you see a few statues here and there, among all my books? Well, just like the books, they have a story to tell. Like my collection of angel figurines who I like to think keep watch over me. And considering that I think up some pretty scary plots, I like knowing someone is watching over me. Of course sometimes it makes me paranoid and I have to turn them around to face the other direction. And then there is the Fairy Godmother figurine that a friend gave me to remind me that magic is real. Just look at her face. Wouldn't you get inspired if you looked over at your bookcase and saw her staring back at you with that funny little expression that seems to say, Write or I’ll whack you on the head?

Then there’s the moon pie candle. Does anyone know why a reader would give me a moon pie candle?

Some of the items just make me smile, like the strange orange critter my son gave me. I love it, and when I feel like I'm having a bad day, I can look over at it and think…hey, I don’t look as if my day is as bad as his, and I feel a bit better.

Yup, somehow the things that surround me remind me to let my mind go and imagine anything and everything. Like dead people in Porta-Potties, and dogs peeing on a hero’s shoe. Nothing really crazy, just your every day, normal stuff.

So, that's my office and all the crazy, wonderful things I like to keep in it. Now it's your turn. Tell me, what do you surround yourself with? What does your personal space hold? Do you collect anything?

CC

SEX AND TAXES - by Diane Kelly

2012-02-27T00:01:00.001-06:00

It’s almost spring. The temperatures are rising, the trees are filling out with green leaves, the flowers are beginning to blossom. The birds and the bees are flitting about, doing what birds and bees do best. And we all know what that is, don’t we? Wink-wink.

Of course spring also means it’s tax season. People, too, are flitting about, rounding up their financial records and filling out forms, hoping to get their tax returns filed on time.

The birds and bees may seem to have nothing in common with taxes, but there are a surprising number of similarities between the two. Yep, in many ways, doing your taxes can be a lot like making love. For instance . . .

1. You can do it alone, but you get more benefits if you do it with someone else.
2. If you aren’t quite ready when the time comes, you can ask for an extension.
3. It’s sometimes complicated and messy.
4. The rules are constantly changing.
5. The more you give, the more you get in return.
6. You feel great when you finish.
7. If you’re not sure what you’re doing, you can consult an expert.
8. You can do it on a bed, a table, or a desk.
9. Advance planning can prevent surprises.
10. If you don’t want to do it the old-fashioned way, you can do it electronically.

Can you think of any other similarities between sex and taxes? Share them with us! (Thanks to Christie Craig for suggesting this funny blog topic! Gotta give credit where credit is due!)

DEATH, TAXES, AND A SKINNY NO-WHIP LATTE, book #2 in Diane Kelly's Death & Taxes series, releases March 1st! If you haven't read book #1, DEATH, TAXES, AND A FRENCH MANICURE, you can get it now in electronic format for only $2.99! Visit Diane at www.dianekelly.com, wwww.facebook.com/dianekellybooks, and www.twitter.com/dianekellybooks.

Guest blogger: Mari Mancusi

2012-02-25T00:03:00.001-06:00

NEVER GIVE UP—NEVER SURRENDER!

I still remember the day my dot.com company dragged us all into the conference room on Friday afternoon—pay day—and announced there would be no pay checks distributed at the end of the day. Not today—and not ever again. We were summarily dismissed and suddenly found ourselves unemployed--with no way to make up the money that was owed to us. It was devastating, to say the least. I feel powerless and weak and alone.

Fast forward 10 years and bring on the déjà vu when I opened my mailbox to find a royalty statement from my long time, traditional publisher. While the statement clearly stated I was owed thousands of dollars, there was no check inside. The publisher was having financial difficulties, just like my dot.com and chose not to pay what it owed its employees.

But this time, I wasn’t going to just lay down and die. Maybe I’d never see a dime from that publisher, but that didn’t mean I couldn’t make a dollar on my own. And so, as my agent worked tirelessly to get the rights back to my books, I started researching how to publish these backlist titles on my own.

Skater Boy is the first of these books to breathe new life online. My very first YA—contemporary romance--and a book that’s always been close to my heart. (God, I loved those skater boys back in the day!) I can’t tell you how awesome it feels to see it up for sale on Amazon, B&N, and the rest--and know, without a doubt, I’ll get paid for each and every download. I love that I got to choose my own cover. I love that it will never go “out of print.” And the fact that I can offer it for half the price the publisher was charging—total bonus!

I know I will never get that last check from my dot.com company. And there will never be a royalty check in the mail from my old publisher. But you know what? Their failure is not mine. I’m determined to make the best of a bad situation and not only make back what was stolen from me—but then some! And whether I succeed or fail, well, at least I know I never gave up. I never surrendered.

About Skater Boy
Dawn Miller is sick of being good. Her parents have scheduled her to within an inch of her life and her popular friends can only think of hooking up and shopping. She's ready for a serious boyfriend, and it's definitely not the obnoxious rich boy everyone wants her to date.

Then she meets Starr, the headmaster's rebellious daughter who refuses to play by the rules. The differences between them are night and day but Dawn is fascinated. Starr introduces her to a world she didn't even know existed: indy record stores, all night raves, and cute skateboarders who hang out underneath a parking deck downtown.

Skateboarders like the gorgeous Sean, who's sweet, smart, and curiously serious --everything Dawn's always wanted in a boyfriend. Soon she finds herself head over heels and doing the unthinkable, lying to her parents and friends. Deep down she knows her parents will never approve of this boy from the wrong side of town...and her secret life is finally catching up to her. Will Dawn be forced to choose between the girl she was and the girl she is meant to be? And if she chooses, will she lose her skater boy forever?

ABOUT MARI
Two time Emmy award winner Mari Mancusi used to wish she could be a vampire back in high school. But she ended up in another bloodsucking profession--journalism--instead. Today she works as a freelance TV producer and author of books for teens, including the award winning Blood Coven Vampire series published by Penguin Books. When not writing about creatures of the night, Mari enjoys traveling, cooking, goth clubbing, watching cheesy horror movie and her favorite guilty pleasure--videogames. A graduate of Boston University, she lives in Austin, Texas with her husband Jacob, daughter Avalon and dog Mesquite. You can find her online at www.marimancusi.com.

BUY LINKS

Amazon: http://www.amazon.com/Skater-First-Kiss-Club-ebook/dp/B006MX866Y/ref=sr_1_27?ie=UTF8&qid=1324139328&sr=8-27

B&N: http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/skater-boy-mari-mancusi/1107997451?ean=2940013849259&itm=8&usri=mari+mancusi

iBooks:
http://itunes.apple.com/us/book/skater-boy/id499073307?mt=11

Kobo: http://www.kobobooks.com/ebook/Skater-Boy/book-9HI9hOvdBEqf0mRDF8YWhg/page1.html

CONTACT LINKS

Website: www.marimancusi.com
Email: mari@marimancusi.com
Facebook: www.facebook.com/bloodcovenvampires
Twitter: marimancusi

Snow!

2012-02-24T10:03:00.000-06:00

Don’t tell my editors, but I’ve been playing hooky all week. I’ve been up in snow country visiting my sister and her family. We’ve had a weirdly warm year here (much like Bullet Hole’s), so there wasn’t a whole lot of snow, but there was enough to make the ground white, which was a total novelty for California people like us. My 11 year old got to try snowboarding (on manufactured snow at the resort) for the first time (along with my brother, who ended up limping and groaning for Advil the entire rest of the trip), and Baby Boy say snow for the first time in his life. Oddly enough, thanks to cartoons, he knew exactly what it was. He even laid down in the most pathetic little pile of slush ever (more mud than snow really) and moved his arms and legs up and down saying “Angels!”. Slush angels? Then he decided he was going to make a snowman. A very teeny tiny snowman. (I guess they look smaller on TV.)

Then we went sledding. It was a hit at first, until Baby Boy thought it would be more fun to pull Mommy in the sled than have Mommy pull him. He’s two and I’m pregnant. As you can imagine, we didn’t go very fast after that.

Next, Big Boy had to have a snowball fight. Here he is crafting the perfect snowball to pelt his mother with. (Luckily, I have good reflexes. I ducked. Unfortunately, my poor boyfriend was behind me. What ensued was an all out snowball war.)

After I couldn’t take the cold anymore (and I won’t say how embarrassingly short an amount of time that was), we went inside the lodge and played pool. This is probably my fav picture of the entire trip. My sister cleaning up at pool with her 6 month old strapped to her in a kangaroo pouch. The child has a total future as a pool shark.

So how was your week? Anyone else getting snow in their part of the country?

~Trigger Happy Halliday

Where's winter?

2012-02-23T04:00:00.000-06:00

Don't get me wrong. I'm not complaining about this winter--or lack thereof. In fact, I'm almost giddy that we've made it to the last week of February and not once have I had a white-knuckle commute to work or back home. Not one.

Okay. I'm probably going to jinx myself and next week we'll end up with the worst blizzard on record. But until then, I'm going to enjoy the unseasonably warm weather and ground cover that is your basic brown rather than blinding white.

I had to run my Jimmy up to the garage for the fifth time for an oil leak. (Amazing isn't it how every time it's something else that's leaking and has to be fixed??) Anyway, on the walk back home as I made my way up the front driveway--observant person that I am--I noticed several spots of green sticking out from the wood mulch. Upon closer observation I discovered that the green in question happened to be the tulips and crocuses I have on the south side of the house.

Now I'm no plant expert. Far from it. But isn't it a wee bit early for these guys to be poking up out of the ground?

What's up with this weather? What has your winter been like? Are you seeing signs of spring at your place? If winter took a holiday where you live, did you miss it?

Next week is our girls' state basketball tournament. And historically we have LOUSY weather. I'm gonna knock on wood that old man winter is on a white sand beach somewhere enjoying a beverage that comes with a cute little umbrella.

~Bullet Hole~

Welcome Guest Blogger and Debut Author Cynthia D'Alba!

2012-02-21T03:00:00.002-06:00

Hi everyone! I'm so excited to introduce my friend Cynthia D'Alba to everyone here at Killer Fiction. Cyndi and I met six years ago at a conference in Florida and have been meeting up at conferences ever since--she's one of my all-time favorite people. Please make her feel welcome, she's such a doll, I knew she'd fit right in! I can't wait to read Texas Two Step so I'm off to preorder it right now.

This post is proudly a stop on the TEXAS TWO STEP Blog Tour. For a complete listing of all stops on this tour, please visit here. All contests are for U.S. residents only unless otherwise noted. Comments left on this blog will be counted toward the Texas Two Step Faithful Follower Gift Certificate. To see a complete listing of Blog Tour Prizes, click here. Be sure to check out the freebies. Yours for the asking as long as they last.

Thanks and BIG HUGS to Robin Kaye for hosting me today. I met Robin way back in 2006 when we were both unpublished. Since that time, I’ve watched Robin become a major contemporary author and I get to say…I knew her when! ☺ Thanks Robin.

Today marks the seven-day countdown to the release of my debut, Texas Two Step. If this is the first time you’ve stumbled across my OMG-I-HAVE-A-BOOK-BEING-PUBLISHED tour, I’m glad to see you! For the past week, I’ve been posting installments of Texas Two Step-The Prequel. In today’s episode we continue The First Date. Click here if you want to read today’s episode and for links to earlier installments.

Mitch and Olivia (my hero and heroine from Texas Two Step) meet and date during college so I thought today we should talk about college dating. It can be brutal, can’t it?

When I was a freshman at the University of Arkansas, all the girls were required to live in dorms and could not pledge sororities until their sophomore year. Freshman guys could pledge fraternities, so there was no lack of fraternity parties to attend and lots of pledges needing dates. The freshman class came from all over the state. Sure, some people knew others in the class but mostly we were strangers to each other. Honestly I didn’t make that many friends in classes I took. I was pre-nursing so classes with guys were limited. When it came to dating, blind dates were commonplace. But remember, we didn’t know each other so how did we link up for the date?

The dorm I lived in was four stories. Guys weren’t allowed in our rooms except for certain times of the day or week. (I don’t remember the criteria that governed boys in our rooms but yes, it was a long time ago!) When a guy came to pick up his date, he would call her room to tell her he was downstairs. Since the vast majority of these dates were for frat parties, the lobby would be packed with guys picking up dates. But remember, lots of these were blind dates. We didn’t have a clue what the date looked like. So you’d hear lots of clothes descriptions. “I’m wearing a yellow shirt and a pair of khaki pants”, then the girl would describe what she was wearing, “I’m in a denim skirt and tan top.” So when she hit the lobby, she’d be searching for a yellow shirt and khaki while he was looking for a girl in a tan top and jean skirt. They’d connect and off they’d go.

However, it was not unheard of for the guy to lie about what he was wearing. He wasn’t in a yellow shirt and khaki pants but he knew what she wore to look for her. Why would they do this? Can you guess? The guy was checking her out FIRST. If she wasn’t to his liking, he wouldn’t “claim” his date and could sneak out the door! Seriously. Here’s this girl wandering around looking for a guy in an outfit that didn’t exist. Horrors!
Luckily this never happened to me. But I know plenty of guys who used this ruse to slip out on a date. Cads, don’t you think?

So what was the worst date you went on or heard about? Make us laugh. Or Cringe. Or go hunt up some guy from college who left you standing in the lobby as he sneaked out.

Today’s TTS Blog Tour Prize
Many guest bloggers can offer a copy of a backlist book to be given away as a potential prize for a blog commenter. As a debut author, I don’t have a backlist. But I do have some awesome author friends who have stepped forward and offered one of their books as a prize.

Today’s TTS Blog Tour Author Sponsor is Indie Press Author Margery Scott. Margery is offering her book, Devil’s Harvest, to one lucky person who leaves a comment. To find out more about today’s Blog Tour Sponsor, you can visit her Website, Twitter or Facebook.

To learn more about me check out these links:

Website , Facebook, Twitter, Group Blog, and Personal Blog
And if those aren’t enough, sign up for inside scoops and special contests by receiving the newsletter I share with my blog buddies.

Remember! Leave a comment for a chance to win Margery’s books!

Texas Two Step is available for preordering at Samhain, Amazon, and Barnes & Noble.

I will be forever in your debt if you would buy it!

Tomorrow, I’ll be at Romance University talking about finding names for your characters. The Prequel will continue on Thursday. Thanks for reading and leaving a comment.

Guest Blogger: Aimee Thurlo

2012-02-19T19:00:00.003-06:00

Today, fabulous mystery writer, Aimee Thurlo is guest blogging and will tell us all a bit about her work and her process. Aimee writes for Harlequin Intrigue as well as single title mystery series, some of which have been optioned for television. I have to apologize up front, because despite my best attempts, blogger is insisting on putting too many spaces between paragraphs. I finally gave up and had a glass of wine. :)

Take it away, Aimee!

We've had some crazy weather here. Cloudy and gloomy but it's a great time to hunker in and write.

Right now we're working on the last few drafts of Secrets of the Lynx, next year's summer release. It's book three of our Copper Canyon series, and I've got to say, I particularly enjoy Paul Grayhorse. He's relentless, and passionate, and well, you get the idea. His spiritual connection to Lynx, a discerner of secrets, makes him the perfect former lawman and romantic hero.

Our current book - Power of the Raven is one of my all time favorites. That was a story that came to my co-writer and husband, David, and me when we were walking around Old Town in Albuquerque and saw a small, beautifully carved fetish in a storefront window and stopped to admire it. According to tradition, a fetish is more than just a carving. It's a symbol that is said to capture the essence of the animal and impart those qualities to its owner.

Out of that moment came a storyline about a hataalii, a Navajo medicine man, Hosteen (mister) Silver, who fosters troubled Navajo boys, giving them a new life and future. On their sixteen birthday, each of the boys receives a gift - a special fetish carved for them. Gene Redhouse, the hero of Power of the Raven, carries a bear fetish. A bear fits Gene because bear's power is made strong in solitude. Though Bear has a dark side, he also stands for confidence and inner stillness.

“Power of the Raven” centers around Gene, now a man, on a path that will test the limits of his courage.

I've always had a special affinity for animals, and the lore that surrounds each fetish is something I find particularly fascinating. One of my favorites is Raven.Raven's magic brings the power needed to take your dreams, give them time to form, then make them a reality. Raven belongs to the inner world, that place where we protect the part of us that's often injured by the sting of rejection. Raven becomes a powerful ally who encourages us to embrace the shadows because they're also part of who we are.

I find that especially beautiful, because as authors we have to dig into memories of pain as well as triumphs to make our characters come alive. The process can be difficult and leaves you feeling vulnerable at a time when you most need to protect yourself. Not everyone will see what you want to do in the story you create and the words you use to do it. There will be harsh comments, and judgments. You have to be able to take the blows, smile, and keep going. It can hurt - badly - but like a famous teacher once said, 'It doesn't matter how many times you fall down - only how many times you get back up."

Each of the Copper Canyon stories will feature a hero and heroine who has, or will receive, a very special fetish in the course of the book. As the characters learn about their new spiritual brother, the reader will go on their journey with them, and maybe some will find their own fetish - an animal carving that will remind you of your own uniqueness, and the power that resides in each of us.

To celebrate its publicaton we're having a very special giveaway - a handcarved raven fetish signed by the artist, Amos Pooacha. Mr. Pooacha is confined to a wheelchair and makes his living carving these very special fetishes.

Please comment here, then write me at ADThurlo@aol.com specify you want to enter our drawing, then Feb. 29th we will have the drawing. The winner be immediately notified by e-mail and will be listed on our web page.

Thanks again to Jana, for letting us guest blog. And make sure to check her latest, The Lost Girls of Johnson's Bayou.

And a huge thanks to Aimee for blogging on Killer Fiction! Have a great week, everyone!

Deadly DeLeon

Guest blogger: Stephanie Queen, author of The Throwbacks!

2012-02-18T02:39:00.002-06:00

Stephanie Queen Interviews David Young, the not-so-young hero of The
Throwbacks, a romantic comedy mystery.

SQ: So tell me…

David: What’s with that “not so young” crack anyway?

SQ: Let’s face it, you’re middle-aged.

David: No need to belabor the point. You have me spending the entire novel trying
to face that fact.

SQ: It’s important since you’re trying to romance a much younger woman.

David: You mean she’s trying to romance me, don’t you? Hey, maybe you should go
back and read the book again.

SQ: Nonsense. What’s wrong with Grace romancing you?

David: You mean aside from the fact that I’d have to fight off every young buck that
lays eyes on her and she has this notion about raising a swarm of children, living in
the suburbs and having me retire from my crime-fighting career?

SQ: Yes, aside from all that. And aren’t you too old and too serious to be playing
Batman?

David: I thought I was supposed to be the dashing crime-fighting hero of this story?

SQ: Yes, but you’re the dashing, yet long-suffering with a self-deprecating wit type
of hero.

David: Great. How many books are in this series?

SQ: Tell me about the Scotland Yard disgrace?

David: You’re full of fun questions aren’t you?

SQ: Stop your whining. Let’s hear some of that self-deprecating wit.

David: [Long-suffering sigh] If I must. I went rogue and murdered a bad guy, but
since I had good reason, the Commission took pity and exiled me to the one place on
earth I could go back to and call home. Boston.

SQ: That wasn’t very witty.

David: Where I met the one woman who was like kryptonite to my career and my
well-being. Grace. She was not simply a charmingly clueless knockout, but possessed
a disarming genuineness, and was naturally and unselfconsciously sensual. In short,
she was the most dangerous human being in the world for me. She had to be a
good twenty or so years my junior, and not the sort of woman I could enjoy a nice
comfortable, tidy, uneventful semi-retirement with, calmly relaxing and gliding
through my golden years.
No. She would give me a heart attack—after torturing me with her energy and
enthusiasm while I try to keep up with her. She wouldn’t understand a thing about
me—and I would know nothing of the youthful generation she came from.
We had nothing in common.
Except mutual excitement

SQ: I see. Sounds dire.

David: Oh, don’t worry. In the end…

SQ: Stop! Have you never heard the word SPOILER? Interview over.

Please leave a comment on your thoughts about May-December romances and why
they work or don’t work. Include your e-mail address and you could win a free e-
copy of The Throwbacks!

Author Stephanie Queen writes romance novels while lying on a pink velvet divan
popping chocolates all day. (Well, not really, but I love the visual.) For more
information check out her website at www.StephanieQueen.com.

Me and my buddy Carolyn Keene

2012-02-17T03:42:00.000-06:00

As I ever-so-often do, I was Googling myself yesterday. (cue the chorus telling me to set up a Google Alert for my pen name)

I was actually looking for some new reviews, but instead I came across something that I think is way cooler than a review.

Diesel E-bookstore lists Codename: Dancer as one of two books in the "More From This Category" on the listing for The Secret of the Old Clock! Yes, THAT Secret of the Old Clock...as in the very first Nancy Drew book EVER!

Raise your hand if you've read this one. (I should see all hands in the air...if you haven't, you should definitely do so, since it's a classic. I think it should be required reading as a young girl for all women who grow up to read or write mysteries.)

Needless to say, my jaw dropped when I saw that. Seriously? WOW! Now, I happen to think that my heroine Dani is a little hipper than Nancy and that the books would appeal to a slightly older age group, but if you write mysteries for teens, you can't really do much better than to be compared to Nancy Drew. Whoohoo!

As we all know, the author responsible for the Nancy Drew franchise is not actually any one author, but rather a number of authors ghostwriting under the pen name Carolyn Keene. Edward Stratemeyer, the founder of the Stratemeyer Syndicate, hired writers, beginning with Mildred Wirt (later Mildred Wirt Benson), to write the manuscripts for the Nancy Drew books. The writers initially were paid $125 for each book and were required by their contract to give up all rights to the work and to maintain confidentiality. Benson and Harriet Adams (Stratemeyer's daughter) are often credited as the primary writers of Nancy Drew books under the pseudonym Carolyn Keene, but many others have used the pseudonym as well.

Over the years Nancy has undergone many changes and updates. Originally she was 16 years old (although a high school graduate), then in later years her age was changed to 18. Different series over the years have included the original books ("The Nancy Drew Mystery Series"), as well as "The Nancy Drew Files," "Girl Detective," "Nancy Drew on Campus" (where she finally goes away to college and breaks up with Ned) and "Nancy Drew and the Clue Crew" (which is the chapter book version aimed at 7-year-olds).

The other day I attended the grand opening of the American Women Writers National Museum, a new museum that is opening in Washington DC to honor our nation's most distinguished women writers. As the president of Washington Romance Writers, I was asked to introduce myself and name my favorite American woman writer. I always hate that question. It's like asking you to pick your favorite child. But being a mystery writer I decided I had to go with Carolyn Keene, which elicited a sigh of agreement from many of the people in attendence.

The founder of the museum is most excited about her "50 State Project" where she features a different state each week. When I mentioned I would be blogging about the opening, she asked if I could ask my readers to nominate women writers from their states to be showcased.

So who would you nominate? Leave a comment by 9 pm EST on Sunday and you'll be entered to win an e-book copy of both The Secret of the Old Clock by Carolyn Keene and Codename: Dancer by Amanda Brice!

Preparing For My Self-Publishing Adventure!

2012-02-16T00:52:00.001-06:00

Last time I posted here I mentioned that I was getting ready to release my first self-published novel. I'm scared and excited and overwhelmed. I have six books published to date, all by the traditional means. This is my first time doing this completely on my own. Taking ownership of this project feels akin to taking ownership of my life. If this fails it will be completely on me. If it succeeds it will be my success. I won't be able to blame anyone else for a bad cover or bad promotion or bad editing.

And that's what I want. I want to feel in control of my life. I don't want anyone to hand me anything or prop me up. Next to my son, this book has become my primary focus. As a single mom who works at home I tend to crave social interaction with other adults but lately I've been turning down invitations left and right so I can spend more time with my characters.

Oh, and I've stopped dating. That may not sound like a big deal but it is for me. I've come to realize that I frequently use dating in the same way other people use drugs and alcohol. When I'm wrapped up in a budding romance that involves trying to figure some guy out and stressing over my nails, my hair, my make-up, my waxings and so on, I'm not thinking about the things that scare me...like launching my own book. It's probably why I've always been so fond of "transition men," too. When I leave a relationship that means something to me I tend to look for someone who can distract me from that pain...just like an alcoholic who tries to fix a hangover with a Bloody Mary. So no dating until I get this thing released. Not only will the temporary absence of men make me more productive but it will ensure that when I do go out with the next guy I'll know that I'm with him because I genuinely like him, not because I'm using him as a means of not dealing with other issues in my life.

So men of LA? You're going to have to look elsewhere for a while, at the very least until March 2nd. That's the day I'll be launching my next book: Vanity, Vengeance & A Weekend In Vegas. I've been playing with the title but I'm going to be sticking with this one. I like it and it was a collaborative effort between me and my twelve year old. I'll give him a cut of the revenues...which is to say that I'll pay for his private school tuition...which is to say I'll be spending all the revenues on him.

To date my top selling book has sold 70,000 copies (some of those being paperbacks & hardcovers, others being ebooks and audiobooks). My goal is to sell at least half of that this time around. It's actually a huge goal for a self-published novel but if I'm going to do this I might as well aim for the stars.

If you haven't checked the book out yet, go to The Vanity, Vengeance And A Weekend In Vegas Blog Site and read the prologue and chapter 1 and 2. On Friday the 17th I'll be releasing chapter 3 on that same site and then on Friday 24th, chapter 4. If you like what you read I hope you'll share it with your friends (if you don't like it, shh!).

And then, as I stated earlier, on Friday the 2nd the book will be available in its entirety. I plan to spend that day hiding under my covers and praying. Obviously I only want you to buy the book if you like the first few chapters...but still, you should probably keep in mind that if you don't buy my book you might be pushing me into another bad relationship with the first random idiot who offers me dinner. You don't want that on your conscience, do you?

--Kyra "Fashionista Fatale" Davis

Leslie Langtry, Trophy Author

2012-02-15T04:08:00.001-06:00

My one and only trophy, 1992 Women's Winter League, 2nd Place

Our mantle is bursting with trophies. Oh, not mine. My kids have trophies, medals, etc. My husband even has a bunch in the basement - and that was back in the day before everyone got a trophy. But I only have one. This one.

It's fun when my son's friends come over and scream, "COOL GUN TROPHY (11yr old boys always speak in all caps)! Is that your dad's?" I get a special thrill when Jack shakes his head and says, "No, it's Mom's." You should see their faces. It really is precious.

I used to shoot handguns competitively. I lost out on first place to a female cop - and I don't feel too bad about that. The leader of our group was an elderly woman who was retired Secret Service - which was very cool.

Yesterday, I found out I won Blogger of the Year at The Book Boost. That is very cool. This gun trophy is lonely. It needs a friend. While I wait, I trolled the internet looking for the coolest trophies ever.

We have to begin with the classic, cartoon bomb trophy. This would be a good trophy for the Bombay Family - Best Use Of An Explosive Device In An Assassination. I'd like to think Gin has a shelf full of them in her secret Death Lab.

This trophy just screams AWESOMENESS. I don't know what it's for, and apparently it's a composite of mixed, mythical metaphors - which means AWESOMENESS. I'd like to see this trophy used for something unexpected - like BEST RHUBARB PIE or CUTEST KNITTED UNDERWEAR.

I guess this award would go to the guy who takes bites out of donuts in the break room, then puts them back when he discovers they are filled with a purple, viscous fluid. And if you work in an office with a break room, you know this guy. And yeah, he'd deserve a mouthful of purple viscous fluid.

This is my favorite. This trophy says, BEST SUPERHERO DISGUISED AS A WEREWOLF. What wouldn't you use this trophy for, right?

Now THIS one is my favorite. This trophy says, "I shot it, and I killed and I mounted it, but I have no f%#*!ing idea what it is." Now isn't that what winning is really all about?

The Assassin

Valentine's Day Contest Winners!

2012-02-15T00:01:00.002-06:00

The first place winner of my Valentine’s Day Contest is Corrie! You have your choice of a Kindle Touch or a $99 Amazon gift card. Please contact me christie(at)christie(-)craig.com with your preference and mailing address. Congratulations!

But wait! You may be a second place winner so keep reading!

Congratulations to the five second place winners: Kristi, Brandie, Nooreensbooks, Anneliese, and Bodaisy. They all have a choice of an e-copy of Born at Midnight, the first book in my young adult paranormal Shadow Falls series or a cool Shadow Falls t-shirt. Email me at christie(at)christie(-)craig.com with your preference and mailing address. You must live in the US or Canada.

Contest! Contest! Happy Valentine's Day!

2012-02-14T00:01:00.025-06:00

Well, I am, but I’m also talking about picking a winner for my Valentine’s Day contest. That’s right. Celebrating the release of Murder, Mayhem and Mama at Amazon, I’m giving away a Kindle Touch or a $99 Amazon gift card. I will post the winner at the top of this blog tomorrow. So make sure you come back to see if you won. I’m also giving away this really cool Shadow Fall's t-shirt!

The rules are simple. You tweet or Facebook about the release of Murder, Mayhem and Mama at Amazon; Twitter users must include the hashtag #Christie-Craig@Amazon, and then leave a comment on this blog telling me you Facebooked or tweeted about MM&M’s Kindle release, and then answer one of my five questions about romance. (The questions are below.) By the way, I answered all those questions myself. And I’m still blushing about some of my answer, too.)

1. What draws a woman to a man?

As a woman and as a romance writer I’ve given this a lot of thought. What contributes to that indefinable lure that draws one person to another? I know I like a man with wide shoulders, a sexy grin and eyes . . . eyes that twinkle with humor and heat. I remember the first time I met my hubby; what’s more, I remember the exact instant that his blue eyes met mine. My mom was trying to set us up, but I had just walked away from a bad marriage and I didn’t want to be set up. I didn’t want a man in my life--period. However, there was a little jolt of something when my gaze met his. Something that made me want to look longer, but almost a sense of rawness that demanded I look away. It’s as if I knew he could see too much in my gaze, that with just that one glance, he’d know what I felt and what I thought. And what I felt and thought was . . . Wow. I don’t want this, but if I did . . . Wow. You can guess that wow eventually won over.

2. What’s the most romantic thing a man has done for you?

I guess for my hubby’s sake, I should use him as the example, huh? Honestly, I got lucky in love—the second go round. I could name numerous things my hubby, aka my true life hero, has done over the years. I moved to California to escape an abusive relationship from my-then-soon-to-be-ex. The only thing I brought with me was a five-year-old and a duffle bag of possessions. Less than two months after I met Steve, I found a brand new car parked in my parking spot at my apartment. It was a gift from him, because he deemed the clunker car I was driving unsafe for me and my daughter.

Then there was the honeymoon cabin he rented with a fireplace in the bedroom because I’d once said that making love in front of a fireplace would be so romantic. We had to crank down the air conditioner to light that fireplace on our wedding night, but I was right. It was amazing.
However, I think the most romantic gesture he’s ever done was something he said about seventeen years after we were married. Though I have to admit that at the moment he said it, I didn’t think it was going to be so romantic. I thought . . . well, let me just tell you.

We were out having dinner and he’d been a little quiet, and then he looked at me and said, “You are not the same woman I married.” My heart stopped, I felt blindsided, and didn’t think I was going to like where this conversation was headed. I knew I’d put on a few pounds. And I’d put a lot of time in on my writing career. Had it hurt my marriage? Fear nearly had me choking on my egg roll.

With a serious look in his eyes he continued, “I married a young woman; she was a little vulnerable and a lot scared to trust anyone. She was practically a girl who didn’t really know what she wanted out of life. And look at you now. You’re a writer who has a passion for what you do, one who has faced more rejection, who has shown more courage to chase her dream, than anyone I know. I’m so proud of you.” See why I love this man? You know, I may not have given my fictional heroes my hubby’s abs (Sorry, babe), but I gave each and every one of them his heart, his sense of humor, and his ability to make a woman feel loved.

3. What’s the worse date/romantic disaster you’ve ever had?

Okay…this is about hubby, too. You see, as much of a hero as he is, when we were first dating, he was trying too hard. And you know what happens when you try too hard, don’t you? You mess up. Well, we hadn’t been dating long and he took me to his place. We were going to cook dinner together and have a quiet evening. At that time he was still doing the gentlemanly thing of opening and closing doors for me. I had a bag of groceries in my hand and when I went to get out of the car, he was already opening the passenger door for me. I stepped out and he closed the car door with a solid thud. A solid and painful thud.

I looked at him and calmly asked if he would open the door.

He calmly asked, “Did you forget something?”

I calmly nodded my head even thought I was gritting my teeth.

“What did you forget?” he asked.

Wincing, and no longer able to handle the pain, I said rather loudly. “My hand.”

He’d shut my hand in the car door. Our quiet evening was spent with an ice on my fingers.

And yeah, in spite of that, I still married him. And I would do again in a heartbeat.

4. If you’ve been married for a while, what sweet things does your spouse do that makes you fall in love with him all over again?

Hubby doesn’t drink coffee, never has. But every night he grinds my fresh coffee beans and sets up my coffee to brew at 6:30. He even sets out a cup, a spoon and my creamer. One morning I woke up and there wasn’t any coffee made. He’d forgotten. I started grinding my coffee beans and I hear him running down the stairs. “I’m sorry,” he called out as hit the bottom of the steps. He made me stop making the coffee and he did it for me.

“You know I can make it,” I told him.

“I know,” he said. “But I like spoiling you.”

And he has and does. I personally think it’s because I forgave him for slamming my hand in the car door. LOL.

5. What’s the most romantic thing you’ve ever done for your Valentine?

Yes, I’ve done the sexy nightgowns. The whipped cream. (Hey, it was research for a scene.) I’ve baked pies that he loves, cooked his favorite foods. But as crazy as it seems, I think the most romantic thing was that whenever he would go away on a trip, I would put love notes in his pockets and hidden in his luggage. One time, he called me a few days into a trip. “You didn’t put notes in my luggage,” he said, sounding hurt.

I knew then that those silly notes had meant something to him. The funny thing was that I had put them in his luggage, but just not in both suitcases. He’d come in while I’d been hiding them, and I didn’t get to put as many of the little love notes in there as I normally did. So I told him to look in the other suitcase. He did.

Ahh, love, it’s funny how the little things can mean so much.

Happy Valentine’s Day, guys! I wish all of you love and laughter. Go hug someone today—be it your spouse, a child, a parent, or just a friend. Let the people you love know it. And make sure you enter my contest and help me get the word out about latest baby, Murder, Mayhem and Mama, now out at Amazon.

LOVE IS SCARY! by Diane Kelly

2012-02-13T00:01:00.004-06:00

I was driving in Fort Worth the other day and happened to pass the Hangman’s House of Horrors, a former meatpacking plant that is turned into a haunted house each Halloween. The building sported a huge banner that read “Open for Valentine’s Day.” I found myself chuckling at the very idea. A haunted house on what is supposed to be the most romantic day of the year? Yeah, right. Because nothing says “love” like a traipse through an old factory full of dismembered body parts and crazy rednecks terrorizing you with a chainsaw.

But then I realized that maybe they were on to something. Love is actually scary, isn’t it? Love makes a person vulnerable. It’s terrifying to give our hearts to someone, to trust them not to toy with it or trample on it or betray it. And when it comes to settling down, to picking a partner for life, it can be frightening to wonder whether we are making the right choice.

When I think back to when my husband and I became serious about each other all those years ago, I recall the things that drew me to him. He seemed to understand me in a way no one else ever had, and he accepted me for who I am, tolerating my many flaws, irritating habits, and idiosyncrasies without suggesting I should work to change myself. He had a cat, which meant he was caring and compassionate, not a macho sh*thead. He had an understated but warped sense of humor, too, which I found to be a lot of fun. He drove a Toyota Tercel sporting a bumper sticker that read “You may not remember me, but I’m wearing your underwear.” How could I not fall for him?

But the biggest factor that told me back then that he was THE ONE was that the thought of spending the rest of my life with him didn’t cause me to suffer an anxiety attack. With my previous boyfriends, I knew deep in my heart that things could never last, at least not happily. I’d tire of them or they’d tire of me. There were things about them I couldn’t live with long term and/or things about me I knew they wouldn’t be able to live with.

Did any of you have the same experience? What made you know your partner was THE ONE? What is the most scary thing to you about falling in love?

DEATH, TAXES, AND A SKINNY NO-WHIP LATTE, book #2 in Diane's Death and Taxes Series, will be released on March 1st! Book #1, DEATH, TAXES, AND A FRENCH MANICURE, is in bookstores now and is currently only $2.99 in digit format!

Roses are Red by guest author Maria Grazia Swan

2012-02-12T03:00:00.000-06:00

They always traveled in the comfort of a refrigerated van, but today, February 13^th they were so cramped and tightly squeezed together that they involuntarily poked each other.

“Same ol, same ol,” said Bloom, the grand dame of them all and the number one whiner. “What’s so special about tomorrow? All those fools running out to buy flowers and candy. What for? Like bringing roses once a year is going to make a difference.”

“Oh, you be quiet,” said Pinkie. The youngest and the sweetest, she was traveling with dozens of her sisters and found the adventure “awesome.”

“I hope I end up with a first love,” sighed Ruby, the most colorful and romantic of them all.

Just then the van came to a screeching halt in front of a Flowerama shop, and all the traveling guests were transferred inside.

Expert hands separated and assigned them to different spots in the store. Bloom and her followers took the place of honor, in the large window.

Pinkie and her siblings occupied the center of the room.

Ruby waited patiently for her assignment, but somehow she went unnoticed until closing time. The cleaning crew found her in the same spot she landed upon arrival and decided to move her to the storage room to keep her out of the way while they cleaned the place. She was still there after they turned out the lights and all went quiet. She called out to Bloom and Pinkie but they all had already left on assigned tasks.

The next morning the ring of the phone and loud voices awakened her.

“Sorry, we are all out, but we have magnificent gladioli and sweet smelling carnations. Okay, very sorry.” The voice of the woman Ruby assumed was the boss.

“Can you imagine? Procrastinators! They always wait until the last minute. Good luck to them. We had a great day yesterday, and all our roses are gone.”

But I’m still here, thought Ruby from her involuntary hiding place. She remained there throughout the day, patiently waiting to fulfill her destiny. This day was what her whole existence had been about. The Valentine’s Day whisper had traveled the rumor mill of the green house for weeks. Only the best would be chosen. It was a great honor to go out in the world and make someone happy. It was all about love and giving.

During those cold February nights, the elders would tell tales of their best off- springs, and how photos of them, with the lucky recipients would make the front page of magazines, and year after year there would be stories celebrating that first romantic gift that led to splendid love stories and made legends out of ordinary blossoms. Ruby heard that some of the lucky ones even got conserved and stayed with the lovers forever and ever.

That was her dream, her reason for wanting to be a first love’s Valentine. Apparently she had failed as the day grew short and she waited alone in the cold storage. She could tell it was closing time because the two young helpers had left, and she could hear the boss lady counting the receipts of the day. When the front door slammed she assumed the owner had left, but then she heard a new voice. It sounded like a man…no, a boy.

“I only need one,” said the boy.

“I’m sorry, young man, we are sold out. And we are about to close. Why did you wait until now? Procrastinating is never good.”

“It’s not like that,” the boy’s voice, again. “I bought a box of chocolates, but then she came to school with braces. She got braces yesterday, and her mouth hurts so bad there is no way she can chew. I hid the chocolates; I didn’t want her to feel even more self conscious of the braces. I have enough money left for one rose, because your ad says, ‘$1.99 for a rose with a ribbon.’”

“I understand son. I would give you a rose for free, but I have none left. Let me see what else might work”

I’m here, get me! If only roses could be heard. And perhaps they can, because the owner came and glanced into the storage, and a slice of light landed on Ruby. She heard a small gasp. “Well, well, well. Where did you come from?”

And just like that, Ruby fulfilled her destiny and her dream. Somewhere, many years later, I’m sure Ruby is still in some young woman’s room, upright and proud having been carefully dried and preserved, and I bet she still gets affectionate glances from a lucky gal with straight teeth.

May you have a love-filled Valentine’s Day, and may all your roses be lucky in love.

~ Maria Grazia Swan

http://www.mariagrazia.tv/

The Mystery of Fried Okra with guest Melissa Bourbon

2012-02-11T03:00:00.000-06:00

I am all about food. Seriously. I wanted to be a chef when I was in high school. I was determined! The Culinary Institute in Napa was on my radar. But my dad said, “Why don’t you go to college for two years and then you can transfer?”

Sneaky dad. It was a question, sure, but it was really non-negotiable. Two years later, I said, “Two years are up, Napa here I come!”

To which he replied, “But you’re halfway there, why don’t you just finish?”

And so I did. I met my husband, discovered a passion for teaching, and gave up my dream of being a chef. Quite a few years, and five kids later, I discovered a new dream: writing. But food is never far from what I write.

In the Lola Cruz mystery series (Bare-Naked Lola comes out in April), the Cruz family owns a Mexican restaurant. And in my Magical Dressmaking Mystery series, Southern comfort abounds...quite often in the form of fried fare.

Fried Chicken

Fried Okra

Tex-Mex, which means ReFried Beans and Fried Tortillas

Peach Cobbler (okay, it’s not fried, but it might as well be!)

I could go on and on, but you get the gist. While there aren’t many strictly foodie scenes, food plays a bit part in an awful lot of my books.

From A Fitting End:

     In a daze, I wandered to the kitchen. Cornbread. I needed    some cornbread. And fried okra.

From Deadly Patterns (coming October 2012):

     “Hmmm?” Her attention never wavered from the kitchen where I could see the mess of okra I’d bought at the market spilled over the counter and Josie pouring half a box of cornmeal into a gallon-sized baggie. I didn’t have fried okra, so she was going to make some.

     Made sense.

In case you’ve never tried fried okra, here’s how it’s done:

Wash a mess of okra and cut into bite size pieces.

Toss okra bits with mix of egg and tiny bit of water.

Now toss in a baggie filled with cornmeal.

Fried in frying pan, taking care to let okra brown on one side before turning...or... spray with olive oil cooking mist and bake at about 390 degrees, turning, until browned.

Eat this instead of popcorn! Really. It’s pretty tasty.

And there you have it. My obsession with food. I wasn’t even going to write about okra or give a recipe, but I couldn’t help myself. I’m a foodie at heart!

~ Melissa Bourbon

Blurb: A Fitting End

Former Manhattan fashion designer Harlow Jane Cassidy has a gift for creating beautiful dresses. But when Harlow becomes the prime suspect in a murder investigation, she’ll more than her sewing skills to unravel the mystery…

Business is booming at Harlow’s custom dressmaking boutique, Buttons & Bows, even with the presence of her great-grandmother’s ghost hanging around the shop. But thanks to the fast approaching Margaret Moffette Lea Pageant and Ball, Harlow has her work cut out for her when Mrs. Zinnia James hires her to make her granddaughter’s pageant gown.

With the debutant ball getting the whole town of Bliss, Texas into a tizzy, Harlow knows her dress has to be perfect. But when a local golf pro is found stabbed to death with dressmaking shears, the new deputy thinks Harlow and Mrs. James conspired to commit the crime. Now Harlow has to finish the dress on time and clear her name before the next outfit she designs is a prison jumpsuit…

Read an excerpt

Order:

Amazon Print

Barnes & Noble

Praise for A Fitting End

“The second Dressmaker’s paranormal Mystery is a fun family affair… Fans will enjoy Harlow Jane’s amateur sleuthing with advice from her late great-grandma and the Texas posse while also seeking two degrees of Robert Redford.” ~ The Mystery Gazette

Hitting the Big Girl List

2012-02-10T03:00:00.001-06:00

This week two very cool things happened to me.

The first: As amanda was awesome enough to point out in her post, I hit the USA Today Bestseller list with my High Heels Mysteries Boxed set. Woohoo! Okay, to be more actuate, this week I learned that I had hit the list this week. It turns out this title had actually been on it for 4 weeks without me knowing. (insert me thunking head against desk here) This is one downfall of self-publishing – you are totally on your own. My agent didn’t think to look because she has no access to my sales numbers so had no idea how much this book was selling. My publishers didn’t think to look because I don’t have any new release from either of them this month. It was only because I mentioned something in a thread with other writers about how I hoped to “hit a big girl list” someday that someone was kind enough (Amanda) to point out to me that, “Uh, Gemma? You already have hit a big girl list, dear.” And while everyone was very nice about it, I’m sure they were all thinking how very blonde I am. That’s okay. I will take the teasing for the rest of my life. I hit a list and that was all that mattered!

That same week, another indie published author, Catherine Bybee, announced that she hit the NY Times Bestseller List with her book Wife by Wednesday. I was thrilled for her! While I didn’t know her personally, I always get little goosebumps when I see an indie author hit the big lists. While I love my publishers, there’s something cool about seeing an author do it all on her won. So I email Catherine to congratulate her, and we chatted back and for in email about indie publishing in general. Then when the NY Times List was published online, Catherine emailed me.

“Uh, Gemma… did you know that you’re on the list this week, too?”

Yes, my blondeness just hit a new high. I had no idea. But she as right.

I was on the New York Times Bestseller list!

First, I refreshed the browser about fifteen times, making sure there was no mistake. then I got my glasses, to make sure I was indeed seeing my name on the list. Then I jumped up and down with sheer glee (silently, as my toddler was napping next to me). I always thought I would cry when I hit the NY list, but honestly I was all smiles. Big, ear to ear smiles. ISee, ’m not what you’d call an overnight success. This had been several long years in the making - several hours of tears and heartache over missed deadlines, lost editors, closed publishing houses, bad covers, and teeny tiny advances. To say I was grateful was a huge understatement. Like saying I’m only a little blonde. ;)

Having hit two big lists in one week I had to celebrate. Unfortunately, I’m still battling morning sickness, so dinner out was a no go. No champagne for me either. And I’m honestly too tired to go dancing or out to do anything physical lately. Finally, I deiced on the one way to celebrate that could never let me down – shopping. I went to Macy’s and bought the prettiest, coolest, best handbag in the store, making myself for once not even look at the price (which, for a thrifty Scottish girl like me is really saying something).

Then I stopped by the jewelry department and bought a couple of sparkly things on clearance, too. I couldn't help it. I had a coupon! :)

~Trigger (and handbag!) Happy Halliday

Bullet Hole Goes to the Ballet!

2012-02-09T04:44:00.001-06:00

I'm a small town girl. Much like Tressa Jayne Turner, the cockeyed cowgirl whose misadventures figure prominently in my Calamity Jayne mystery series. And, like Tressa, horses were my life. My idea of culture growing up was the rodeo and the horse show. Yeehaw!

Later, as a state trooper who worked security at the state fair, the grandstand shows and the odd concert introduced me to stage entertainment. (Plus, I got to get really close to the stage and performers. Funny how a badge and a sidearm can make that happen.)

Next I discovered musicals and added a bit of sophistication to the good-ol'-girl persona.

I had never, however, been to a ballet performance. It's not because I don't care for dance. Or music. It's just that I...hate mimes. Yep. I can't stand mimes. They rank right up there with clowns on my "Things I Loath List". So, the idea of three hours of sitting and watching what basically amounts to 180 minutes of mime to tell a story didn't exactly trip my trigger.

But recently I had the opportunity to step out of my comfort zone when the Moscow Ballet presented a performance of The Sleeping Beauty at the university two of my triplets attend.

And I loved it!

Of course, it didn't hurt that I knew the story that was being told and didn't have to guess at what was going on. The performance was flawless and engaging and the afternoon flew.

I also got a kick out of all the mothers who brought their own little ballerinas to watch the performance. That alone was worth the price of admission!

When have you stepped out of your comfort zone and tried something new? What was the outcome? Uplifting and rewarding or disappointing and a drag?

Speaking of trying new things, remind me to tell you about the time(s) I volunteered to drive in a demolition derby. Or the time I decided to try water skiing before I learned to swim. Or the time I smoked a cigar at my State Patrol District meeting to protest the "good ole boys club".

Er, maybe not.

~Kat~

Immortally Yours

2012-02-08T09:15:00.004-06:00

Happy Wednesday! I find myself grinning a bit this morning because the cover for my latest book, Immortally Yours, has found its way into my inbox.

This is the first of a new series. It's a dark comedy/urban fantasy about a group of paranormal MASH surgeons. The heroine is a thoracic surgeon, drafted from her practice in New Orleans to serve with a bunch of misfits. Luckily she meets a hot demi-god to sweeten the deal.

Isn't that always the way?

But, hey, it would be a real short book if we didn't give her a hot hero to push her buttons and challenge her a bit. I'd like to say I did up close and personal research with a smoking hot demi-god, but I'm still trying to find one. Rest assured, this is an important element of "realism" and I won't rest until I find my demi-god. In fact, if any of you would like to do your own hot demi-god research, all in the name of good books, that would be even better.

Oh and the summation as it stands right now. I'm not sure this is the exact copy that will appear on the back of the book, but it is the latest version I have and I'm sure it's pretty darned close:

From bestselling author Angie Fox comes a thrilling new series about ancient gods, modern love, and one star-crossed couple who could use some divine intervention…

IN THE WAR BETWEEN THE GODS…

No one patches up the incoming wounded like Dr. Petra Robichaud. Recruited by the gods for her uncanny medical skills, she’s the best M*A*S*H surgeon in the army. Along with a nosy guard sphinx, vegetarian werewolf, and other paranormal paramedics, she bandages soldiers who are built like Greek gods (literally.) But when one sexy immortal ends up on her operating table—half dead and totally to-die-for—Petra’s afraid she’ll lose her patient and her heart…

NOTHING IS MORE DANGEROUS THAN LOVE

Commander Galen of Delphi is one gorgeous but stubborn demi-god. When his spirit tries to slip out of his fatally wounded body, Dr. Petra has to slip it back in—unwittingly revealing her ability to see ghosts. Now that Galen knows her secret, he’s convinced she’s part of an ancient prophesy. If the oracles are right, Petra could lead Galen’s army to peace. And if he seduces her on the way to hell and back? Heaven knows—all’s fair in love and war…

Finding My Joy

2012-02-07T03:06:00.001-06:00

By Robin "Red Hot" Kaye

A few years ago my husband and I went on a double date with my dear friend, Hope Ramsay and her husband to see my first David Wilcox concert. We sat in the front row and I was so amazed by this man’s guitar playing, I found myself paying as much attention to his hands as I did to his words and music. I left the concert thinking that David Wilcox was quite possibly the happiest man on the planet. Never before had I seen someone so thrilled to play songs he’d probably played a million times. After the show, Hope and I spoke to him and I was so touched by his words and the reverent way he talked about his music, his writing, and his life, I found myself in awe of his home-spun existentialism.

Since my first David Wilcox concert, I’ve become a huge fan. Today I was hard at work but feeling uninspired so I turned on my David Wilcox playlist and did my best to find my joy. I remember being so moved by David, during his concert, I felt as if I was meant to be there. I was desperately in need of inspiration, and spending a few hours watching a gifted performer, listening to him talk about how he writes, what he writes, and why he writes it, was exactly what I needed to feed my starving muse.

I left the concert with my head spinning—I counted four blog topics I couldn’t wait to explore. But the thing that really touched me again was the way David Wilcox played with such delight. He walked out on stage carrying a guitar and wearing a long-sleeved navy blue sweater, a pair of faded jeans, and the most joyful expression I’d ever seen—he practically glowed. Before every song he’d tune his guitar and gaze into the rafters with a look of pure exultation, I was envious. David Wilcox had exactly what I’d been searching for. I want to feel that same elation I saw in him when I work. If someone should see me writing at Starbucks, I would hope to look half as happy as David Wilcox looked every time he started playing a song—as if he was thanking God for the gift of his talent, his guitar, and every single person in the audience. I want to learn what it takes for someone who writes and performs for a living to find so much joy in what was probably just another day on the job?

I’m taking a lesson from David Wilcox and finding my joy. I love writing. I can’t think of anything I’d rather do for a living. I wonder if lately I’ve gotten so bogged down in the business end of writing, that I’ve missed the magic that happens when I’m creating. I am going to step back and rediscover why I feel the need to create characters, the world they live in, and the emotions that drive them. I want to experience the joy that comes from losing myself in a story. I want to figure out how to gather and store the drops of magic so I can swim in it every now and then. I want to look up at my ceiling fan and instead of seeing the dust gathering on the blades, be blinded by the light of inspiration. I want to be the woman at Starbucks writing on her laptop computer who makes everyone wonder what she’s doing wearing such a radiant smile. I want to walk into my office every morning eager to create a world of happily ever afters. I will do that. I’m inspired.

So please tell me, how do you find your joy?

2012-02-06T10:18:00.002-06:00

Book Winners: Gayle and Jane have won autographed copies of Lost Girls. Thanks, everyone for reading and posting!

It's release week for my latest Intrigue, THE LOST GIRLS OF JOHNSON'S BAYOU. Here's a bit about the book:

She was only six when she walked out of the swamp after the LeBlanc School for Girls caught on fire. Sixteen years after the terrifying night that stole her memory, a child's scream lures Ginny back into the woods…where a strong arm encircles her. The gun-wielding stranger is Paul Stanton, a cop-turned-P.I., who's come to Johnson's Bayou looking for answers of his own.

Paul has spent almost two decades searching for his missing sister and now, this Southern beauty could be the key to his quest. But someone would rather see Ginny dead than have her memories resurface. And although uncovering the dark secrets of the past could put them both at risk, it's a chance Paul's willing to take if it means finding his future…with Ginny.

It follows the trend of spooky, bayou mysteries that I've loving writing. This one is a complete stand-alone so no previous reading required to jump right into the story.

I'm hard at work on the next book, and always love some good atmosphere, so yesterday, we went to see THE WOMAN IN BLACK. It was good. Not great. Not bad. Some creepy moments, but the story, as a whole, was undeveloped. It could have been much better with some plot twists. Ah well. I'm beginning to think that if I want a good horror movie, I need to write it myself.

Have you seen anything good lately?

Today, I'll be giving away two copies of LOST GIRLS to posters, so leave your comments and an email address for a chance to win!

Deadly DeLeon

Congrats to our USA Today Bestselling author!!!

2012-02-03T02:27:00.003-06:00

Two days ago, Gemma mentioned that she hoped to "one day" make a list.

Looks like she did. And she's been there fore 4 weeks now apparently, and didn't even know it!!!!

http://books.usatoday.com/book/gemma-halliday-high-heels-mysteries-boxed-set/l32348

So please join me in wishing Trigger Happy Halliday a MAJOR congrats on being a USA Today bestselling author!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

It's very exciting, particularly since she did it as a self-published author. Sure, the books that hit are part of her backlist, so not truly self-published since she did have the backing of an editor and publisher at one point, but she didn't hit the list when she was with them. It was only once she took her career in her own hands that she did it.

YAY, Gemma!

Even Baby Alex is thrilled for you...

The Countdown For The New Sophie Novel Has Begun

2012-02-02T00:38:00.000-06:00

My next Sophie novel, Danger, Desire & Double A Batteries will be ready for release as an ebook in a few weeks. It's my first adventure into self-publishing and I'm a little nervous about the process...but also more than a little excited. It's been a full year and a half since the last Sophie novel was released by Mira (click here for the drama filled story as to why it took so long for me to write the next one) and I'm hopeful that Sophie will continue to hold on to the support of the readers who have stood by her from the beginning as well as attract new readers who will befriend her. Below is the prologue. If you like it and want to continue to follow the story I'll be posting more pages on The Next Sophie Katz Adventure blog every Friday.

Hope you enjoy it!

Prologue

People who really hate you don’t usually call you up for a chat, particularly if they know their animosity is mutual. Sure, an enemy might gossip about you behind your back or, if you’re an author like me, they’ll probably give you a one star review on Amazon (if you’re a business owner with enemies it might not hurt to check your Yelp page). But it’s rare that someone will pull out their smartphone and waste precious calling-minutes and dwindling battery power just so they can rattle off a few tightly phrased insults. Not if they have a Twitter account.

So when Fawn called I knew something big was up. There are few people who I hate more than Fawn. For one thing she slept with my friend Mary Ann’s boyfriend, Rick. Of course Rick is what the British would call a wanker and Mary Ann has now moved on to Monty, a better and slightly less annoying guy who has offered her love, fidelity, an engagement ring and a very generous pre-nup. So under different circumstances I would have considered Fawn’s affair with Rick something to be grateful for.

But sadly it’s not that simple. Fawn is one of those people who goes out of their way to make others miserable. She’s vengeful, catty, jealous, and to use Mary Ann’s words, “just ewwy.”

She is also in jail. She and Rick got into a lovers spat which ended in an attempted murder charge. Karma’s a bitch, but apparently not as big of a bitch as Fawn.

Which means that this woman wasn’t just using up minutes on her cell phone plan to talk to me. She was using up the week’s worth of phone time allotted to her by the California State penitentiary system. You didn’t do that just to be a pest.

“Hello Sophie, did you miss me?” That’s how the conversation started, with her caressing my name with a soft and zealous malice.

As it turns out, Fawn had learned of a secret my live-in boyfriend, Anatoly, had been keeping from me.

Anatoly is the first man I have ever truly loved. I love his hands, I love his little half smile, I love the way his Russian accent gets a little heavier after I’ve kissed him a few times.

I love the way he argues with me when I’m feeling quarrelsome and the way he comforts me when I’m feeling lost. I love that after six years together the passion and tenderness has only grown.

Fawn called to tell me Anatoly had a secret or, to be more specific, she called to tell me that Anatoly had a wife.

I knew when I heard those words that she wasn’t lying. It would be too easy to disprove. Of course the marriage had to have ended before we met, that much seemed obvious, but why hadn’t he ever told me about this? After all, I had been divorced too so I wouldn’t have judged him. What kind of person keeps a failed marriage secret from the woman he shares a home and a bed with? A man who can’t be trusted, that’s who. A man who is incapable of letting anyone in. Ever.

It didn’t feel like Fawn was torturing me with her horrid little phone call. It felt like she was destroying me.

This information was going to cost me both my relationship and the happiness I had spent so many years trying to cultivate.

What I didn’t understand at the time was that the information also had the potential to cost me my life.

Kyra "Fashionista Fatale" Davis

Leslie Langtry - Author, Patriot - Now With Cute, New Glasses

2012-02-01T03:03:00.000-06:00

Sgt. Jessica Barney, Moi, and Sgt. Jacqueline Kessler

I attended Sgt. Assassin's military formal dinner this weekend. And I found out that I have fans in the US Army! That's right. Leslie Langtry is serving her country...without the really hard basic training or complete lack of style in military-issue shoes.

I'm pictured here (aren't my new glasses cute? - the ones my kids didn't notice for two days until I told/screamed at them) with the lovely Sgts. Jessica and Jacqueline - both who have read all my books and loved them, naturalmente. They even insisted I have this picture taken with them. Of course, I acquiesced because I love America (and because if you praise me, you can pretty much get me to do anything...well, except for lick a spider - I'm not stupid enough to do that again).

There is something deeply satisfying in knowing I made these women laugh. And even more so because they do a tough job. Both served in Iraq with Sgt. Assassin for a year. That was a tough deployment. I'd like to think I made it a little bit more tolerable. But then, I'd also like to think I don't have a swearing problem - just a mild, slightly more offensive form of Tourette Syndrome that only happens when I'm mad at my kids, usually at Walmart.

So, here's to you, Sgt. Barney and Sgt. Kessler! And thank you for all you do!

The Assassin

How Brave Are You?

2012-01-31T03:30:00.002-06:00

WINNERS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I pulled three names out of the hat. Linda, Kima, and TerriO. So guys...email me at christie(at)christie(-)craig.com. Give me your address and your size. T-shirt runs small.

CC

Quick question — how brave are you? Now, I don’t mean, would you go rushing into a burning building to save your neighbor’s cat. Nor do I mean, would you grab a flashlight and head off to the attic at the stroke of midnight when you hear some strange noises that could only mean one of two things — your attic is haunted or there’s a family of antisocial raccoons living up there. Nope. Both of those things require bravery but it’s not the kind I’m talking about. I’m talking about being brave enough to be true to yourself, even when it may result in other people’s disapproval. Brave enough to do what feels natural to you, even when everybody else may think your choices are weird.

Now, I come from a long line of Southern women who’ve displayed that kind of bravery. I think I told you guys about my great-grandmother Plummer Bronson, who was a healer and used to talk the burn out of people. This all happened a little before my time but I’m sure my great-granny experienced her share of stares from people who just didn’t understand. Not that it ever stopped her from doing what felt right to her. She had the kind of wisdom that only comes with age, with having lived a life to the fullest.

I admire those kinds of women — Women who are brave enough to follow their hearts and be true to themselves. Women who continue to nurture their spirits, who don’t stop growing, exploring. Living. If you’ve read any of my books, you’ve seen this type of women in my stories. Remember Nana in Don’t Mess With Texas? An older wise woman who spoke her mind and did things her way.

And that’s why today I’m going to tell you guys about a lady who exemplifies all of that and more. Her name is Pat Richardson. I met Pat through my writing career. She’s the Managing Reviews Editor for Fresh Fiction and she owns a bookstore. Just my kind of lady. But Pat’s more than just a lady, she’s a lady with spunk. And I like spunk. She’s also a great-grandmother. So what makes her so brave? Well, last summer, she marched herself into a tattoo parlor and got herself a tattoo. And as soon as I heard about it, I knew I had to interview her for our Killer Fiction readers. I mean, come on, how many great-grandmas do you know who just got their first tattoo?

CC: When did you get the tattoo?

PR: I got the tattoo in August. I’m attaching the picture. It was taken the same day so the leg is a little bit swollen around the edges.

CC: What inspired you to get it?

PR: I just decided it was a funky thing to do but it took two years to convince my husband, even though he has one. My kids could not understand why I had to have his permission, being the old lady that I am. I have an online bookstore called PatCat Books – http://www.patcat.net/ - so I had designed this in my head a long time ago. I wanted a book with a cat on top of it. Of course, my tattoo in my mind was a lot smaller than what I ended up getting. And I still look down and think, wow, I did this.

CC: How old were you when you got it? You are a great grandmother, right?

PR: I am 67 and, yes, I have 8 grandchildren and 8 great-grandchildren.

CC: Okay, I gotta ask this — Did people think you were crazy when you did it?

PR: Some did. It appeared on Facebook before I even had it done and one of my daughters just about had a fit, but the other one cheered me on. But of course, she has three tattoos of her own.
CC: Did you think you were crazy?

PR: LOL. After I got it done, I thought, Dear God, what did I do? But then, I thought, Yay me! I did something I never thought I would do.

CC: What are some funny anecdotes about getting it? I know one of your grandchildren thought you were mad at grandpa. Can you tell me about that and any other funny ones?

PR: As I said, the tattoo was on Facebook before I even had it finished. My family knew my hubby and I had been having a disagreement about something else and they didn’t know I had talked about it before I had it done so they thought it was a spur of the moment thing. Within ten minutes of my having it done, my oldest grandson called his momma and said "Boy, Mimi must be really pissed at Papa to do this." LOL. A half an hour later, everyone in my family knew about it and a whole lot of friends — both mine and the friends of my kids and grandkids — knew about it, too. The power of Facebook is really amazing.

One of my sisters thought I had totally lost my mind and the other one said, “You go, girl!” My husband had been up at our lake cabin when I did this and I never said a thing to him about it. After about three days, he finally asked if I was ever going to tell him. I said, “Nope.” I told him that if he didn't notice it on his own, I wasn't going to show him. My Momma didn't raise no dummy. LOL. The next day I went to our book club tea and it took about 15 minutes for everyone there to notice my tattoo. One of the ladies told me I was now a tat slut but if I got more than one, I would be a tat ho. Guess I will stay a slut because one is enough.

CC: Oh, that’s too funny! Have you had any reactions from strangers to your tattoo?

PR: A few weeks after I got it, I was at a thrift store looking at books when one of the workers said "Oh, look at the kitty." I immediately looked under the rack, hunting for a little kitty. I told her, I didn't see it and she said, “I meant the one on your leg.” Talk about feeling like a big dummy.

CC: Any regrets?

PR: No, not at all. I figured I am old enough to know my own mind and I also figured at my age what is going to droop has already done so, so at least the tat will not stretch out too far. I had one lady show me hers after I had mine done. It was a rose and she said after all these years it was now a long stem rose.

I told you guys Pat is an amazing woman, didn’t I? So what about you? Have you ever been as brave as Pat? Have you ever done anything that other people may have disapproved of, but you knew in your heart it was right for you? If so, I’d love for you to share your experiences. And today, in honor of Pat, I’m going to give away a Shadow Falls T-shirt to one lucky poster. So make sure you post your comments.

As for me, well, I don’t see a tattoo in my future, but I’m sure I’ll raise some eyebrows as I continue to write my books, with humor, heart and heat. Hey…I don’t think we ever grow too old to enjoy some romance.

CC

MAN THEORY - by Guest Blogger Vicki Batman (hosted by Killer Fictionista Diane Kelly)

2012-01-30T00:01:00.002-06:00

I am thrilled to host one of my writing buddies, Vicki Batman, here at Killer Fiction today! Vicki's a hoot - you'll love her. Read on to find out her theories about some strange and wonderful creatures - men.

MAN THEORY by Vicki Batman

I showed the cover to my new short story collection to my men and they died laughing. I knew the title was funny, but that funny? They asked, "What do you know about men?"

A lot more than they think.

I come from a family of four girls. So, yeah, I didn't really-really know men. But lots of water has passed under the bridge, and here's some things I have observed over the years:

- men talk short
- snakes--what's the problem?
- smell good after a shower
- cars = speed
- shopping is for food and guns, athletic stuff, computer
- clean house???
- wash clothes when out of clean underwear
- meat, meat, meat
- what's wrong with what I'm wearing?
- love their pets
- action movie vs. romance -- uh, no contest
- socks are an accessory
- sleeves are for nose wiping

My quick short story, Man Theory, is about a geek who espouses his theory about love. Here's a fun excerpt:

"I have a theory about love.”

Ethan's statement knocked me from the proverbial mountain top. Eyeing him, I clapped my hand across my mouth to stifle a giggle.

From Day One at our new jobs at Prime Designs, Ethan and I had forged a friendship. I was the artsy-heartsy, emotional gal. Him--the technical, by-the-book pal. We ate an occasional dinner, watched a movie, whatever. Traded small gifts like coffee, a magazine, music. However, Ethan had never made an overture toward me.

Translated: Nothing intimate.

I'd said to myself, "Rats."

For work, we'd traveled to Colorado Springs to attend a workshop on web design innovations. After check-in, I'd joined him at the bridge crossing the lake to decide about lunch before the meetings commenced.

My six-one geek wearing rimless glasses, leaned against the railing, and stared into the sparkling blue waters of the high mountain lake, and the feathered fowl paddling by.

Have his feelings changed? I asked in disbelief, "R-really? A theory...about love?"

What have you discovered about your man/men?

When you add to the list, your name will be added in a drawing for a free ebook (be sure to include your email).

Vicki Batman is kicking back with a diet Coke and torturing a new set of characters by playing "what if?" Find her at: http://vickibatman.blogspot.com OR at: http://plottingprincesses.blogspot.com

Man Theory and Other Stories will be available February 1 thru Amazon and Barnes and Noble.

Morning (Afternoon and Evening) Sick

2012-01-27T03:00:00.001-06:00

For anyone looking for a good read, my third Hollywood Headlines book, HOLLYWOOD CONFESSIONS is now free on Amazon.com!

Just follow the link below, or go to Amazon.com and search for the title. (Just be sure to click the formats book for the totally free version, not the version only free to Prime members.) If you don’t have a Kindle device, you can still read the free book by downloading the free Kindle app for your MAC, PC, ipad, iphone, android, blackberry, or other smart phone devices.

HOLLYWOOD CONFESSIONS free!

This month I’ve been really slacking on the writing. What to know why? Two words: morning sickness. Though why it is called morning is beyond me since, as most women who have been pregnant know, it’s morning, noon, and night. For example, yesterday I got a call from a woman at the “advanced age mother’s program” at my insurance company. (Thanks. Now I feel better about myself. I mean, I know I’m not 20 anymore, but do we really have to call it “advanced age”? Couldn’t we call it “more prepared” or “more experienced”? We are highly hormonal, you know. People have been killed for saying less about pregnant woman at this stage.) The woman asked me a series of questions about how my pregnancy was gogin so far. When she got to the one about morning sickness, I had to laugh at her. “How many of the last 24 hours would you say you have experienced any nausea?”

“Um, all of them?”

“And of the last 48 hours?”

“All of them.”

“And of the last-“

“Let me just save you some time here. Whatever time frame you’re giving me, the answer is all of them.”

She then went on to ask what kinds of foods I was eating. Did she not just hear me? 24/7 nausea. I’m not eating food. Okay, *chewing and swallowing* - toast. Digesting - none. Unless water counts as a food.

Anyway, as you can imagine, it makes it a little bit hard to write. Love scenes are DEFINITELY out at the moment. (Why would I want to write about what put me in this position in the first place?! Let me tell you, there would be a lot of condoms involved.) My characters have not eaten a meal since the beginning of the book. No food scenes whatsoever. No humor scenes either. It’s hard to think funny when you’re constantly running to pray to the porcelain gods. Which basically leaves me with shooting scenes. I’ve been shooting a LOT of people lately. (See hormonal reference above.) This book is going to be chock full of action.

The one nice side effect of being newly pregnant? My memory is totally shot. I’ve completely forgotten when my deadline for this book is. Convenient, right? ;)

Okay, if anyone has any remedies for morning sickness, lay ‘em on me. So far MetroMint peppermint water is my best friend, but I’m so open to suggestions!

~Trigger Happy Halliday

Oops!

2012-01-26T17:16:00.002-06:00

Okay. I blew it. Today was my day to blog. And I knew it was my day to blog because I saw the reminder email that one of my fellow Killer Fiction bloggers set up to send to all of us to remind us when it's our turn.

But that was before I came down with a respiratory crud that came on fast and is still hanging on. Chills. Body aches. Cough. Fatigue. So, in spite of not being able to use the old "dog ate my homework" story I do have a legitimate reason to be posting this late.

And if being sick wasn't excuse enough, I'm also days away from my tax prep appointment. Seriously? The creeping crud and taxes in the same week? Tell me I've earned a pass this week.

On a happier note, I've finished the manuscript an editor requested the full of and it is on that editor's desk. Not one to sit on pins and needles while I wait, I've immersed myself in my next Calamity Jayne mystery and I must say, it's a joy to be back writing this series. I've really missed Tressa Jayne and the Grandville gang.

So, apologies to all for being late to the blog today. If anyone wants to make me feel better by sharing an example of the last time they spaced off something, chime in.

~Bullet Hole~

WARNING!

2012-01-25T03:16:00.000-06:00

By Robin "Red Hot" Kaye

I have three teenagers and two of them are driving, so if you live in the state of Maryland, you might want to make sure you stay far away from any Blue Priuses.

Yes, child number one received his driver’s license on Friday and child number two is driving me and everyone else crazy since she received her learner’s permit.

Having mobile teens is good and bad. My son is now able to drive to school so I don’t have to pick him up after his JROTC duties. It’s also handy when I need a few things from the grocery store while I’m in the midst of cooking a meal.

On the down side, he thinks that since he’s able to drive, my car should be available to him at all times. He received his first lesson on that today when I said “No.” Of course I had to repeat it two more times just to make sure he got it into his head. And that was before he explained that I should allow him to drive the Sequoia to school since he’d get teased for driving a prissy Prius. That statement was met with a “Hell No!” after which I explained that if he was too embarrassed to drive the Prius, he was more than welcome to drive any other car he wanted—he’d just have to buy it first. Needless to say, he kissed me on the cheek and said, “I love you, Mom,” which is what he always says when he’s headed to the doghouse. Smart boy.

I don’t know about you, but I still have nightmares about driving with my parents. I’ll never forget the first time my father took me out to teach me to drive a stick shift. We lived on The Main Line of Philadelphia—think rolling hills—and Dad decided I should drive to Sears with him. Now my father, God love him, has never been the calm and retiring type—he’s the exact opposite. He spent the entire drive screaming at me and teaching me interesting combinations of curse words. By the time I pulled into the parking lot, I was about to lose my lunch. I never wanted to be that parent so I had my husband, the calmest man I’ve ever known, teach the kids to drive—problem solved, right? Wrong.

My son knows me well enough to never drive with me. I’m not a good passenger on my best day. He’s like his dad—he's missing the loudmouth Italian gene and doesn’t tolerate screaming well. I think he’s secretly relieved he’ll never have to drive me anywhere while I’m conscious. My daughter, however, is a legend in her own mind. Twinkle Toes, never lacking in confidence, thinks she’s the best driver the lord ever put on four wheels and has never been fazed by my loudmouth Italian tendencies. The other day she begged me to let her drive home from the Starbucks. I figured, what the hell. We were only a mile away from the house, the car wouldn’t go above 30 miles per hour, and if I screamed at her, she really wouldn’t care. I did okay until we hit the driveway. Our driveway has a big hump in the middle and the Prius bottoms out on if you try to straddle it, so you have to drive with one tire on the hump, and the other very close to the grass, which then runs up a very steep hill. Twinkle Toes wasn’t sure of how far over she needed to be and the next thing I know, we’re off roading, which would have been fine in the Sequoia or the Jeep, but the Prius? I'm talking we're were at a 40-degree angle! I was screaming, which didn't faze her, but then neither did the fact we were off-roading. She looked over at me and gave me the teenage eye roll. if I didn't have my hand wrapped around the Oh-Shit-I'm-gonna-die handle, I would have smacked her.

She's fine, I, unfortunately, have yet to recover.

So who taught you how to drive? And are you brave enough and calm enough to teach your own kids? Any helpful hints?

Running shoes? Check. Zombies? Wait...

2012-01-24T03:00:00.000-06:00

Something happened last week that still has me grinning every time I think about it. "The Run for Your Lives" Zombie-infested 5K is coming to St. Louis.

Now I've been stalking this race for awhile. They've been doing it in lots of other cities for the past few years. And the website cracks me up.

Basically, this is a 5K obstacle course where zombies try to "eat" you. Now this not being the actual end of civilization as we know it, the zombie threat is more to your ego. Each runner is given a race belt with flags. And similar to flag football, the flags can be torn off until none are left. At that point, you are a zombie. You can still run the race because, you know, it takes a bit for the virus to transform you. But you have to admit, it will call for a lifestyle change.

Someone took a chest-camera video of the race in Baltimore last year. Cracks me up every time I watch it (which is too much according to my daughter).

So if you're a runner or if you think you might be chased by zombies some day, check it out. And if anybody wants to run from zombies with me, we're getting a team together for the 3:00 p.m. wave on August 18 in St. Louis. Sign up for Team Fox. We'll be plotting our survival strategy and getting some cool t-shirts. I'll also bring a box of Twinkies for the end (Zombieland fans will know we need them).

Confusion Central

2012-01-23T07:10:00.006-06:00

Cricket and Stacie won the copies of my upcoming Intrigue. I'll be in touch, ladies! Thanks for posting!

I spent the weekend trying to get all the Christmas decor packed, labeled and stored so that it's not still stacked in my living room. Yes, I said Christmas decor. Don't rush me; I'm busy. :) And besides, this is not, by far, the worst year. The worst year was the one where my brother came by to visit and carried my entire tree, decorations and all, into the garage....in May.

So I was doing some catch-up shopping also as you can tell I'm behind on everything and I've decided I am quite confused. By toilet paper. Whatever happened to those big packs you could get at Walgreens 2 for $10? Yes, I know, inflation and all that and technically, they've got you over a barrell, because well, toilet paper is sorta necessary for most folks.

But now, it's like selecting the best piece of confetti out of a trash bag full of it.

I can even narrow it down by brand - I've always liked Charmin - but that doesn't get me any closer to the best bargain for the money. They have all this used car salesman stuff going on - 36 double rolls equals 72 rolls, 20 extra padded rolls equals 32 regular rolls, and on and on and on.

I look at the packaging and try to figure out the logic of breaking the price down by roll and there's not any. Sometimes, it appear that the exact same roll of toilet paper may differ in price by a dollar. WTH?

So I'm making a suggestion to toilet paper manufacturers - price toilet paper by the foot. Feet are easily compared. And no one foot equals two foot plus a club foot nonsense. Just tell me how many feet of toilet paper I get in a package and let me do simple math.

Anyone who hasn't Liked my Facebook author page, please do so. I'm going to do giveaways there and want all my readers to have chances to win.

Today, I'm going to give away two copies of my upcoming February Harlequin Intrigue release to two blog posters. So post a comment with your email for a chance to win a copy of THE LOST GIRLS OF JOHNSON'S BAYOU.

Deadly DeLeon

Modern Families by Maria Grazia Swan

2012-01-21T03:00:00.000-06:00

I have this thing about my teeth. When I was growing up, our town didn’t have a real dentist. The young man performing dental work had learned from his father. Whatever he did was always without anesthetic, no laughing gas, no Novocain...he strapped you in, and you got to exercise your vocal cords.

When I came to The States and discovered the way it is supposed to work, I was ecstatic. You’ll never hear me complain about going to the dentist. Because of the experiences from my youth, I’m a little obsessed with prevention. At some point I was getting my teeth cleaned every four months. I didn’t see the dentist often but got very chummy with the hygienist. One day, the dentist called me into his office and explained that, while they would happily take my money every four months, it wasn’t necessary, six months between cleaning would be fine. Now I see the hygienist every six months, and that means we have to talk faster to catch up with all that happened in between cleanings. She does the talking, I can’t. My mouth must stay open with that sucking thing hanging on one side of the lips, but I’ve learn to express my dis/approval through my eyes. We get along royally.

My last visit was just before Christmas. Tracy had a happy glow about her, the one pregnant women often exude. I knew that wasn’t the case, because she already has 4 kids and, last time I asked, no husband. Okay, I know, you can have more than 4 kids and you don’t need a husband.

She tells me ‘they’ just purchased a big old house for everyone to live happily together. I assumed she was talking about her mom. Yes, and no.

Here is the story, Tracy got married. She married the gay man she met one morning when she ran out of gas on her way to work. Now they all live together, Tracy, her mom, the four kids, Tracy’s new husband, his partner and, occasionally, Tracy’s former husband when he comes to town to see his doctor. I wanted to ask questions so bad I accidently bit the sucking thingy.

“There must be something I’m missing.” I managed to say before a new sucking tool was inserted into my mouth.

“I needed medical insurance,” Tracy said. “My husband has a fantastic medical plan, and now my kids and I are insured. I was able to get the surgery I needed and had been postponing. I feel like he saved my life”

I motioned I needed time off, “I understand what you are getting out it, how about him?”

“He always wanted a family, now he has one. He adores my kids, helps them with homework, this is the most stable home life they’ve had in years. And both my husband and his partner cook. I mean, really cook! I love to see people’s faces when he introduces me as his wife and then introduces his partner. Priceless.”

Tracy has a screwy sense of humor.

While setting up my next appointment, she asked, “Are you going to use my happy story in one of your books?”

I thought about it for a minute or two, “Nah, no one would believe it.”

~ Maria

http://www.mariagrazia.tv/

LOVE THEY SISTER

buy at Amazon.com

buy at Barnes&Noble.com

Practical Romance

2012-01-19T02:30:00.004-06:00

Tonight it was suggested to me that when a woman starts dating a man the first thing she’s thinking about is how that man makes her feel. If it’s good her focus is on that giddy feeling.

I don’t think it works that way. At least it doesn’t for me, not anymore. I think on a whole, women are much more pragmatic about their relationships in the beginning. If they’re interested in something more than just a fling what they’re initially thinking about is not how this guy makes them feel. Instead they’re focused on the following questions: “Is this someone I can respect?” “Do we have enough in common?” “Could I trust this person with my kids?” (assuming there are kids) “How would I feel introducing this person to my friends?” “Is he stable?” “Do we share the same values?” and so on and so forth.

I think that this is the main reason most of us want to wait before having sex. It’s not that we’re worried that the guy we’re with will stop respecting us if we put out too early, it’s that we know we won’t even be able to fully enjoy the experience unless we feel more settled about the above questions. In other words, the giddiness can come but only after our brains have decided that this is someone worth getting giddy about.

But a lot of men don’t realize women think that way. Sure, they complain about gold diggers but when you press them further they seem to imagine us to be much more romantic about it all, even going so far as to suggest that we are guided completely by our emotions. And maybe we are...when we’re in our teens and early 20s.

But by the time the 30s come around women have become pragmatists and it’s the men who are the romantics, being led around by their feelings of excitement over this or that person, barely noticing the warning signs until they’re either slapped in the face with them or their excitement has died down. So why is it that women are still seen as the emotional ones when it comes to relationships?

I think we fiction writers are partially to blame. See, the fun thing about movies and books, particularly those written purely to entertain, is that everyone is guided by their emotions and that’s doubly true when it comes to female characters and romance. Take Scarlett O’Hara and Catherine (of Catherine and Heathcliff fame). Both were completely impractical when it came to love and when they did make pragmatic decisions they usually ended up regretting them because those decisions didn’t fulfill their hearts the way giving into their true soulmates might have. And when it comes to modern literature...well really, does anyone think it’s pragmatic to date a vampire?

But secretly (or maybe not that secretly) we all want to be able to be controlled by our emotions. We want to do what feels right rather than what logically seems right. We want to trust that our hearts really will lead us in the right direction. So people like me create emotionally driven characters and we joyfully live vicariously through the romance of it all.

And then we go out on our dates and we temporarily shelve the let's-get-giddy instinct and cling to our pragmatism.

Because really, being led around purely by our emotions? That only works for fictional women and maybe a few not-so-fictional grown-up boys.

Kyra "Fashionista Fatale" Davis

WWBWD?

2012-01-18T02:52:00.000-06:00

What WOULD Betty White Do?

It's Betty's 90th birthday! Happy Birthday Betty...on the off (off, off, off) chance that she reads this blog. Betty was among the first funny ladies in Hollywood. And she just gets funnier (like I will, naturally) with age.

Betty's genius has gone largely unnoticed for years until recently. But she had me with The Golden Girls. In fact, I imagine that's how the killerfiction babes will end up - all of us in a house in Boca - with me as Bea Arthur. I'm not going to speculate who would be the others - you know who you are.

In celebration, I thought I'd share a few of Betty's funniest quotes:

On aging:

"Oh, I don't need sleep. I just went to my hotel and had a cold hot dog and a vodka on the rocks."

I'm making this our regular Wednesday night family dinner.

On the battle of the sexes:

"Why do people say 'grow some balls'? Balls are weak and sensitive. If you want to be tough, grow a vagina. Those things can take a pounding."

Betty White vs. Chuck Norris - who's with me?

On natural history:

"All creatures must learn to coexist. That's why the brown bear and the field mouse can share their lives in harmony. Of course, they can't mate or the mouse would explode."

I have never heard a scientist say this, and I wonder why because it's totally true.

Happy Birthday Betty!

The Assassin

Writers are Funny People

2012-01-17T03:30:00.006-06:00

WINNER! WINNERS!! The winner of the $5 giftcard is Kristi. But I've chosen two other winners to recieve some swag: Theresa N. and Blackrose 37at yahool.com please all three of you email me at Christie(at)Christie-craig(dot)com

Contest! Contest! Win a $5 gift card to either B&N or Amazon.

Writers are funny people. Not funny-funny, although some of us can be. I’m talking more funny-strange. Yeah, I know that probably sounds like a weird confession to make, since I am a writer, but go with me on this for a minute or two. Not only do writers create imaginary people who are as real to us as our own families are, we also get all wrapped up in feeling the same emotions that our characters feel. I’m talking joy. Sorrow. Exhilaration. Heartache. And even grief. We feel each emotion as intensely as our story people do. This ability to connect with our characters’ emotions helps us to create characters and write scenes that strike an emotional chord with readers.

Now, when I describe it that way, it sounds like a good thing, doesn’t it? I mean, you’d never think about sending me away for a month-long vacation in the local psych ward or anything, would you? Well, could someone please explain that to my hubby? Because sometimes I do see that look in his eyes. The looks that says, I’m a frog’s hair away from strange men in lab coats walking in and fitting me for some nice, new white, very tight jacket. Oh, sure, he denies it but when he asks, “Who were you talking to?” and I tell him, “My characters,” this look of concern crosses his face. I know what he’s thinking—Christie’s finally gone and lost her mind. Hey, it’s not easy being a writer.

And it’s probably even harder being married to one.

Anyway, the reason I’m talking about how writers connect with their characters is because I had a new book out December 20th. This is one of those books that authors refer to as “the book of my heart.” Now, all of our books are special but some are just more special to us than others. That’s the case with Murder, Mayhem and Mama.

You see, this book was actually the first book I sold when I broke my long dry spell back in 2007. I’d sold four books that day—three were humorous romantic suspense novels to Dorchester. The other one was Murder, Mayhem and Mama, and my agent sold that to a small publisher who was going to release it as an e-book first and then out in print a year later. I was walking on air back then. Four of my babies were going to be published! But as often happens in this business, the publisher went under and Murder, Mayhem and Mama went back to living only in my imagination after a much too brief foray into the world.

But one great thing about the publishing industry is this: Things never remain stagnant. And now I’m beside myself with happiness that my baby is getting another chance.

Murder, Mayhem and Mama was released in digital form for Barnes and Noble’s Nook. On Feb. 10th, it will release at Amazon and other e-retailers. And I’m feeling just as excited about it this time as I was the first time.

So, what’s MM&M about? Well, it has all the hallmarks of a Christie Craig novel. By that, I mean, it has a hot romance between a yummy cop hero, Brit, and a quirky heroine, Cali, who are the perfect fit for each other (even if they don’t realize it.) There’s a mystery for them to solve and some dangerous bad guys who are threatening the heroine, plus a feisty Mama cat and her kittens who are determined to turn the hero into a cat person. By the way, the cat succeeds big time.

And then there’s Mama. And, no, this one isn’t a cat. She’s the heroine’s mama and she’s, well, dead. But still chain-smoking and offering her advice in my heroine’s very realistic dreams. Which is pretty much freaking out Cali. As a matter of fact, the look I see on her face is the same look I see on my hubby’s when he finds me having long conversations with my characters. She’s worried she might just be losing it. Nevertheless, Cali’s mom wants to make sure her baby girl is safe, and she also wants to see her baby girl find true love, so she’s not above a little other worldly match-making.

Here’s the cover for the book:

And here’s the blurb:

Being a mama is hard. But the job's even tougher when you're dead.

Cali McKay's mama isn't ready to pass over to the "other side" yet. Her
unlucky-in-love daughter needs her now more than ever. Before Mama can
chain-smoke her way to heaven, she's gotta make sure Cali's deadbeat
ex-boyfriend doesn't get her daughter killed.

Grief Sucks. Love Heals.

Cali lost her mom to cancer. Detective Brit Lowell lost his partner to
murder. Now he's in the mood to take down some dirtbags and Cali's ex just
happens to be a dirtbag leaving a trail of dead bodies behind him. Can
Brit trust this beautiful woman to help take down her ex? Can Cali look
past this sexy cop's hard exterior to trust him with her heart? Can life
get any crazier when Mama starts meddling from the grave? Only one thing’s
for sure—none of it will matter, unless they catch a killer before the
killer catches them.

So I hope all you guys with Nooks are giving my new baby a try. If you have a Kindle, be patient, it’s coming. And if you are solely a print book reader, well, I’m hoping someday to make that happen, too. But it may be a while.

Until then guys, stay happy. Keep laughing. And take my advice: avoid talking to yourself or your imaginary friends in front of people.

Today, I’ll give away a $5 gift card to either Amazon or B&N. All you have to do is leave a post. If you want to make it interesting, tell me about a time you felt someone looked at you as if you were a frog’s hair away from being locked up in a padded room.

~CC

LET'S GET "UP CLOSE AND PERSONAL" WITH GUEST BLOGGER DONNELL ANN BELL! (hosted by Killer Fiction author Diane Kelly)

2012-01-16T00:01:00.006-06:00

CHERYL - YOU WON A COPY OF DONNELL'S BOOK! JUNE - YOU WON THE $25 GIFT CERTIFICATE! PLEASE EMAIL DIANE@DIANEKELLY.COM SO THAT I CAN SEND YOUR CONTACT INFO ON TO DONNELL TO GET YOUR PRIZES TO YOU. THANKS!

We’ve had big fun here at Killer Fiction for the last two weeks as we’ve hosted our "Kick off the New Year contest!"

THE WINNER OF THE KINDLE FIRE OR NOOK COLOR (OR EQUIVALENT VALUE GIFTCARD IF YOU'VE ALREADY GOT AN E-READER) IS "PETITE!" Petite, please email me at diane@dianekelly.com so that we can make arrangements to get your prize to you.

Congrats to all of our winners and thanks to everyone who stopped by to visit us here at Killer Fiction!

DAILY WINNERS:

Jan. 2 – Annie - $25 giftcard (not claimed yet! Annie, please email diane@dianekelly.com to claim your prize!)

Jan. 3 – Brandie - $25 giftcard

Jan. 4 – Kima - $25 giftcard

Jan. 6 - Sandy

Jan. 7 - the winners of Diana Layne's books were Rebekah E., StephanieJS, Virginia, and catslady

Jan. 9 – Alison - $25 giftcard; amf, Sarah S., Angela Bount – autographed copy of Jana DeLeon’s next Intrigue novel!

Jan. 10 - Barbara E. – $25 gift card and a copy of Robin Kaye's "Wild Thing"

Jan. 11 – Brandy - $25 giftcard

Jan. 12 – Glittergirl - $25 giftcard

Jan. 13 – RedPeril - $25 giftcard

Jan. 14 - Na - $25 giftcard

And now on to today’s blog.

It’s my pleasure to host suspense author Donnell Ann Bell here at Killer Fiction today! She touches on an issue that’s important to all writers – research. Authenticity is the key to creating a story that’s intriguing and compelling to readers. Read on to see how Donnell does it! And be sure to post a comment. Donnell will also be doing a $25 gift card giveaway today to either Barnes & Noble or Amazon (winner's choice).

Writing a Book Up Close and Personal

Hello Killer Fiction Bloggers! Don’t you love the “middle names” these brilliant authors christen themselves with? Let’s see, there’ “Trigger Happy” Halliday, “Crime Scene” Craig, “The Assassin” Langtry, “Bullet Hole, Bacus, “Killer” Kelly, the list goes on. Such creative killers! If I had to give me a middle name, it would be “Up Close and Personal” Bell. (I can do that because my last name is short ;).

The reason I say UC&P is because I’m a visual, tactile learner. As a former court reporter, I’m also a great listener. When I start writing, I often find myself typing along only to think, Wait, do I have that right? If I’m not sure. I’ve been known to stop a work in progress, pick up the phone and say to an expert, “Hey, can you meet with me?”

I’ve now met with police lieutenants, taken a Citizens Academy, volunteered for the sheriff’s office, and gone on numerous ridealongs. I go to lunch frequently with a coroner, my private eye friends are on speed dial, and just over the holidays, my daughter and I took an eight-hour gun course, complete with shooting range.
On-line classes are great, and I take them for an overview. But for me to get a true understanding, I go to the source. For instance, my volunteer assignments have helped me understand SWAT and police departments’ use of informants.

Thanks to the generosity of law enforcement and others, here’s a scene I wrote in “THE PAST CAME HUNTING.” Set up: My protagonist Melanie Norris has been kidnapped by my antagonist, rocking the world of her 15-year-old son who my cop hands over to his coach with instructions to keep the boy distracted. My police lieutenant, Joe Crandall, is coming to grips with how deeply in love he is with Mel and the guilt he feels that he wasn’t there to protect her. . .

“Very good, Mercer,” Joe said as the ex-convict ended the call. “If you ever decide to go straight, you should try acting.”

Along with several detectives, SWAT team members, the man nicknamed Skinny sat in a chair looking on. By his unrelenting glare, he didn’t appear happy that Mercer had agreed to wear a wire and cooperate with police. That was okay with Joe. Not only had Roscoe Mercer identified every member of the Chaos Bandits, the police had these men as accessories to felony kidnapping. Melvin “Skinny” Thomas wasn’t going to see the outside world anytime soon.

“Who’s got Skinny’s cell phone?” Joe asked.

A vice cop stepped forward. “I win that prize.”

“If it rings, keep your answers short. Don’t tip our hand.”

“Not a chance.”

Bruce Bennett entered as Joe and the other officer’s strapped on their Kevlar vests. “You understand what we want you to do, Mr. Mercer?” the D.A. asked.

Mercer reached for Luke’s practice jersey. Upon Joe’s request a patrolman had swung by Mel’s house and picked it up. “Walk in to Ramirez’s house and show ‘em this jersey.”

Joe lowered his head, hoping to God Mel could forgive him for using this tactic. They needed to establish her whereabouts before they swarmed the house. “Great,” Joe said. “Then what?”

“If the woman’s around I say, ‘What’s your name, pretty lady?’ If she’s not, I say, ‘Where’s the dame?’”

Pretty straightforward, Joe thought. Conceptually it should work, letting law enforcement know if it was safe to raid, using force. Too often, though, a kink found its way into the system.

Marksman Sam Ortega crossed the room. “We’re ready when you are, Lieutenant.”

Joe was pleased to see the man, who not too many weeks ago had been suspended for taking down a crazed meth dealer. Evidently, he’d been reinstated to active duty. Joe nodded. He directed an officer to take Skinny back to a holding cell.

Joe hadn’t even had to assign a group for this op. As soon as the callout went down, men stepped forward, the majority off duty, Ortega among them.

Clearing his throat, Joe said, “Thanks. Give me a second, then let’s do it.” He reached for the phone on his belt, walked to the window overlooking the lofts next door, then dialed Mel’s son.

Out of breath the boy answered after several rings. “Lt. Crandall?”

“Yeah, Luke, it’s me. Where are you?”

“I’m with Matt and Coach. We’re at school shooting baskets. What’s going on?”

“We believe we found your mom, and at this point, we think she’s okay. She’s being held against her will, and part of Maxwell’s scheme is to make her believe they have you.”

“What? That’s crazy. Why would―”

“Luke, listen to me. I hate to do this to you. Tell Coach to take you to his house and stay put and out of sight. I’m sure these people don’t travel in the same circles as any of you, but the media may be onto this kidnapping. If they see you out and about, or try to interview you when we’ve convinced them you’re being held someplace else, it could go bad for your mom.”

A moment’s silence occurred on the line before Luke said, “Got it.”

“Do I need to relay this information to your Coach?”

“No, sir. I’ll do it. Find my mom.”

“That’s the plan. Tell Matt I love him. Your father would be proud, Luke. I’m damn impressed as well. You boys be strong.”

Surrounded by patrol cars, Joe and the team walked to an unmarked van while Mercer slid into a blue Ford Focus. “Can you hear me?” the black man asked as he switched on the ignition.

“Copy,” the technician inside the van said.

“Just want you to know,” Mercer added. “If Ramirez and Maxwell smell a trap, you’ll never identify all my body parts. Take that up with the judge when you’re talking reduced sentence.”

“Will do, Mr. Mercer,” the D.A. replied. “Help us get Mrs. Norris out alive and it will buy you a great deal of leniency.”

Mrs. Norris alive. Taking slow, steady breaths, Joe entered the back of the vehicle and sat beside Bruce and the rest of the team.

The van started to move. The countdown was on.

I’m in complete admiration of someone who can sit down at a computer, write a book from start to finish, without ever leaving his or her keyboard. Talk about imagination and smarts. I merely know what I need to write a book.

Which brings me to you. What kind of learner are you? What do you put into your research? If you’re a writer, what do you do to ensure your scene’s authenticity? If you’re a reader, do you care if the author goes to such lengths? We’ll be drawing for a winner, either in digital or book form of THE PAST CAME HUNTING to a person who comments.

Thanks for having me as a guest on Killer Fiction!

Donnell Ann Bell is a two-time Golden Heart finalist and debut author for Bell Bridge Books. She sold her second book, also a Golden Heart finaling manuscript, to BBB, as part of a two -book deal. Look for book two to be released late 2012, early 2013. To learn more about Donnell, check out her website at www.donnellannbell.com

Dreaming in Italian with Maria Grazia Swan

2012-01-14T03:00:00.001-06:00

And the totally chosen at random winner of the $25 Starbucks or BN gift card (winner’s choice) is… Na! Congrats, Na! Email me at gemmasreadermail at gmail dot com with your contact info and we’ll get your prize out to you ASAP!

Please welcome our special guest blogger, Maria Grazia Swan! I've know Maria for years - ever since she published the hilarious BOOMER BABES, a non-fiction book about dating over 50. And now she has a fantastic mystery available in ebook that I highly recommend everyone check out.

Today Maria is giving away a $25 gift card to either Barnes & Noble or Starbucks (winner's choice). Just post a comment to be entered to win and check back tomorrow when the winner is announced.

I always wanted to be a writer. When I was a little girl I lived with my grandparents in a 3 story house my grandfather built. One rainy day I went up into the attic to look for something, not sure what. Keep in mind that was before phones, before TVs and certainly before computers. I found a wooden crate full of old books—Gialli, that’s what mysteries are called in Italy. The books had been left there by my uncle Agostino who migrated to Canada.

From then on I spent my weekends in the attic, reading. Agatha Christie, Rex Stout…I loved them all. In school my best grades were in Literature. My teachers liked my writing, often would read it out loud.

Then my parents moved to Belgium, and I said goodbye to my grandparents, the attic and the books. In Belgium I had to learn French, and I did. Soon my teachers liked my French essays.

I still dreamed of becoming a professional writer. By the time I was fourteen, not today’s fourteen, mind you, I entered a short story contest and won! A French newspaper published my story. Pretty good I guess, except, my parents didn’t read French, neither did my grandparent back in Italy. Still, I felt proud. It was a good start.

Life has a way of playing tricks on our carefully planned tomorrows. So I met an American boy, fell in love, married and moved to the United States. I had to learn English. And I did. Didn’t have much time to write with kids, a career, Great Danes and a philandering husband. I managed to survive without writing. Then came the divorce, the kids moved out, the Great Danes went to dogs’ heaven, and I went back to write, in English, of course.

I paid my dues, learned my craft and won an award, a national award! All right! By then my grandparents were dead, too late to make them proud, but they always believed in me and that made it okay.

In 2001 my first book was released, a mystery, in English. Love Thy Sister was a late homage to the 3 story house, my Italian heritage, and my newly found American life.

By then my parents were dead, but somehow I felt they always knew I would be a published writer.

I wrote more stories, more columns, more blogs, and more books— all in English. But when I dream, I dream in Italian.

2010 was a very bad year for me, in too many ways to even try to list them. I had to get back to writing, my true passion. That’s when a miracle happened, via Twitter. I swear, even as a writer, I can’t make this stuff up. I received an e-mail from an Italian publisher interested in the Italian rights of Love Thy Sister, my out-of-print mystery. I own all the rights, the paperback is no longer available. Of course I said yes!

The book will be released in Italy, October 2012. I’m saving my pennies to make it there for the launching! The 3 story house my grandfather built was sold after my mother died, but I still have 2 sisters and plenty of nieces and nephews and good friends to celebrate with me! I even have a growing number of Italian followers, how cool is that?

And for my non Italian speaking friends, Love Thy sister was just released as e-book in all the usual places. Okay, I’m not sure how that works, I hired Bookbaby.com to make it happen. Keeping my fingers crossed I may even get to see it in French some day.

Grazie a tutti.

~ Maria

http://www.mariagrazia.tv/

LOVE THEY SISTER

buy at Amazon.com

buy at Barnes&Noble.com

The Best Laid Plans

2012-01-13T03:00:00.001-06:00

The totally chosen at random winner of the $25 gift card is RedPeril! RedPeril, email me at gemmasreadermail at gmail dot com with your mailing address and preference of Amazon, BN or iTunes. Congrats!

Today I’m giving away a $25 gift card to Amazon, Barnes & Noble or iTunes (winner’s choice). Just comment below to be entered to win and check back tomorrow for an announcement of the winner!

I had the best laid plans for following my #1 New Year’s resolution – say no to anything that takes away from writing time. Big Boy was going back to school on Monday, Baby Boy’s babysitter was all lined up to be there. I had my new manuscript ready to start, a great idea for an opening scene brewing in my head. I had my Starbucks gift card all ready to order a venti Pumpkin Spice latte and a slice of iced lemon pound cake (the ultimate creative fuel). But did Monday morning find me writing? No. It most certainly did not.

Why? Well, let me back up a little…

Last year Big Boy wanted a bike for Christmas. He’d just learned to ride a two-wheeler and was ready for something bigger, sturdier, and less cartoon character themed. So, The Man and I (with a little help from Santa) got him this:

He loved it. Rode all over the neighborhood in it. Unfortunately, during that riding around the neighborhood, one day he went to a friend’s house across the street, left his bike on the lawn overnight, and in the morning it was gone. (This was when we lived in the neighborhood where anything that stood still for more than five minutes got stolen.) He was, of course, upset. But trooper that he is, he took up skateboarding as a means of transportation instead.

Fast forward to this past Christmas. My mom wanted to replace the bike that was stolen last year so that Big Boy could ride his bike to her house after school. She had it wrapped up at her house, where we were planning to visit Christmas afternoon. Big Boy opened his presents from Santa on Christmas morning, was thrilled with what he got from us, but then said in a kind of sad voice. “You know, I still miss my bike from last year.” Hehe! It was all I could do to not spill the beans that he was about to get a new one.

Once we got to my mom’s house, the first thing Big Boy saw was a large, bike-shaped present for him. He immediately tore into it, then took off on his bike riding around the neighborhood for the rest of the evening. Yay!

At this point you might be asking what this has to do with me not writing. Good question.

On New Year’s Day, Big Boy was out riding his new bike when The Man and I heard a scream. Then more screaming. And crying. And Big Boy calling for Mommy. (He’s 11. If he’s calling for “mommy” it must be bad.) We raced outside and found him at the bottom of the driveway (steep hill) in a crumpled pile tangled in his bike. He’d fallen and hurt his elbow. We rushed him inside, iced, checked to see that all the parts were still moving and nothing was swollen. We debated the emergency room, but considering that everything looked in working order, went the ice route instead. After a bit, Big Boy said he was feeling better and took off to play video games.

The next day he said his elbow felt a little better. Not great, but better. Two days later, it was still hurting “some”. Five days later he said, “You know. This isn’t getting better very fast. It still hurts a little when I straighten my arm.”

Uh oh.

So I packed him into the car and we went to the emergency room to get a “just in case” x-ray. Four hours later, the verdict came in – he’d been walking around for a week with a broken arm! I felt horrible. I told him that I owed him a big ice cream cone – maybe even triple scoop – as they bandaged his arm and put it in a temporary sling.

So, what was my Monday spent doing instead of writing? Calling our insurance, our pediatrician, the orthopedist, and then the insurance again trying to get him an appointment to get a permanent cast put on his arm. Then calling the E.R. to get a note from the attending doctor to get Big Boy out of PE class. Then emailing all of his teachers to say he can’t write or take notes in their classes. Then doing all his homework for him as he dictated.

Some day I’ll get back to writing. I swear it. In the meantime, I’m just hoping that our bike luck doesn’t get any worse.

~Trigger (but not bike) Happy Halliday

P.S. If anyone is looking for a good book, my entire Hollywood Headlines series will be available for FREE on Amazon.com this month.

free NOW through Jan 17 – Hollywood Scandals
free Jan 17-Jan 26 – Hollywood Secrets
free Jan 27 – Feb 5 – Hollywood Confessions

The winter that wasn't? I wish...

2012-01-12T03:55:00.002-06:00

BARBARA E is Robin Kaye's blog winner for yesterday. Email your contact information to Robin, Barbara E, so she can get your prize to you.

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I'm not a fan of winter. Neither are my knees or joints. I don't ski or participate in snowboarding. I don't like snowball fights or erecting snowmen or snow forts. I managed to fake an enjoyment in winter activities long enough to give my four kids exposure to those timeless winter experiences that are part and parcel of growing up in one of the plains states. But believe me. I've never been one of those "let it snow, let it snow, let it snow" devotees.

So after two brutal winters back to back here, it was with a weary sigh that I watched the calendar inch its way into November and December. And I did all those preparatory practices that veteran midwesterners do to prepare for the onset of winter weather.

I bought big bags of salt. I got the snowblower and my 4 Wheel Drive truck serviced and fueled up. I had the shovels and emergency kits at the ready. And as November ended and December began, I braced for the worst.

But something strange happened. Winter didn't arrive on time. In fact, we ended up with record breaking warm temperatures throughout December. Christmas Day was brown and beautiful.

I thought surely our luck would run out before the new year.

I was wrong. More warm temperatures followed. Lovely warm sunny days with dry roads and easy peasy commutes.

Which brings us to the day before yesterday: January 10. And a balmy SIXTY degrees! So, not wanting to gloat or anything, of course, I had my picture taken to commemorate the winter that wasn't.
I washed both of my vehicles and the house's windows. I put a load of towels on the clotheslines. I took a walk.

And...I jinxed us.

Today we're getting 45 mile an hour wind gusts, snow that has turned to ice on the pavements, and frigid temperatures to follow and I'll be slip-sliding to work in the wee hours this morning.

Oh, well. It was great while it lasted. Sometimes I really wish I lived some place where I didn't have to worry about snow, ice, and doing dipsy-doodles on my way to work.

Tell me. Are you a winter person or a summer person? What has your winter been like? If you wanted a white Christmas, did you get it? If you were able to live anywhere you wanted, where would you decide to call home and why?

I'm giving away a $25 Amazon or Barnes and Noble Gift Certificate to one lucky commenter in the US or CAN only who leaves a comment on todays' blog.

~Bullet Hole~

Life on ice

2012-01-11T07:14:00.002-06:00

CONTEST! SOMEONE WHO COMMENTS TODAY WILL WIN A $25 GIFT CARD TO EITHER AMAZON OR BN - YOUR CHOICE! AND...YOU WILL BE ENTERED TO WITH A KINDLE FIRE OR NOOK COLOR AT THE END OF THE CONTEST! WOOT!

The other day, I took my daughter ice skating. Now there is nothing remarkable about that unless you consider that she has never been on ice skates and I have not been in the last 10+ years. It may be closer to 15 years since I tried to get on the ice. And when I did it last time, I was not good.

I remember the laughing of my friends, the polite smiles of those who had to skate around me when I wiped out and was laying there, spread-eagled on the ice. I remember those jerky little kids who would skirt around me, effortlessly, as they missed my head by about two inches and sprayed that fine icy snow.

Yes, I remembered.

So I'm not sure why I thought it was a good idea to stop by the ice rink. We never would have thought of it, except we were out to see the Science Center and it's in the middle of this big park. There are ball fields, archery ranges, tennis courts and, yes, an outdoor rink.

Then again, air was crisp, they had a big fire going outside the rink and it smelled amazing. Steinberg Rink is this 1920's-era building in the middle of this wide, old copse of trees.

We laced up with confidence. We headed out to watch the zamboni as it finished. My daughter was excited and so was I.

Then we stepped onto the ice. Boy, is that stuff slick. We both wiped out almost immediately, right where everyone else was getting on. I had flashbacks of the ice skating trips of my youth. We scrambled up as the little kids did swoopy things around us, leaving us in their ice dust. We made it half-way around, half-clinging to the rail, before my daughter realized. "We're really not good at this. Both of us." She seemed fairly surprised, as I have been in the past, when these type of things don't always work out. I was glad she'd gone in confident, and tried to talk her off the wall.

She was not so keen on that. She'd seen what happened to me most of the time I got too far from the side - wipeout. She asked me if she'd fall and I wanted to lie. But I told her: Yes, if you get off the wall, you will fall. But you don't get off the wall, you won't be able to skate.

She thought about that. And watched me wipe out shortly after. We made it the rest of the way around the rink. She never did get off the wall and that was okay. But on the way home, she had a thought that made the whole trip worth it. She said, "Skating is kind of like everything, right?" I wasn't sure what she'd meant, but said, yes, it was kind of like life. She agreed and said, "Next time, I'm going to get off the wall."

I Married Mr. Fix-It

2012-01-10T00:01:00.002-06:00

By Robin "Red Hot" Kaye

And that’s not a bad thing. Okay, some times it’s not great either—I’ve been living in a construction site for most of my marriage, but when it comes to fixing things, my man excels.

We live in a hundred year old Victorian farmhouse in Maryland, and when we bought it, I was in Idaho trying to sell our place. Stephen had already moved to Maryland to start his new job, so when I saw the ad for a Victorian, I had him go look at it.

Stephen called me right back all excited. “It needs some work,” he told me, “but nothing I can’t handle. It’s got great bones, ten-foot ceilings, and a turret with a big witches peak.”

To be fair, I probably stopped listening after the turret and the witches peak part. What romance writer doesn’t want to live in a house with a turret? When he started talking builerspeak I most likely zoned out.

The house had five bedrooms, two baths, and was on over a half-acre right on Main Street—perfect. It was also within our price range, which should have given me pause. But all I could see were the ten-foot ceilings and the turret—that is, until we moved in.

Yeah, mistake number one was letting my husband, a cross between “Tim The Tool Man” Taylor and Bob the Builder, buy a house before I saw it.

I had expected a fixer-upper but what this place needed was a can of gasoline and a match!

Stephen opened the door, and the smell of mold was so bad I immediately started wheezing—probably from the combination of mold and shock. He had told me the house needed a new roof, but what he failed to mention was that the roof on our hundred-year-old Victorian, like everything but the bathrooms, was original. When it rained, it rained in the house—literally. It’s pretty bad when the dog goes to the five-gallon buckets that are placed all over the house to catch the rainwater before he checks his own water bowl.

Thankfully, he cleaned the place up, and installed all new appliances in the week and a half I was in Florida picking up the kids. He even surprised me by buying a whole house water filter. I’d have been happy to have one that sat below the kitchen sink, but no, he got the big one. The water filter had to be connected to the plumbing—mistake number two.

When Stephen installed the water filter with more power, the pipe it was supposed to connect to broke because it was so old. He replaced that pipe only to have the next break also. On and on it went until, in the span of two weeks, we had all-new plumbing. The electrical system was the same way.

Now I know replacing all the plumbing and wiring in the house is a lot of work, but really, the lights worked before, and all the toilets flushed—usually. But all I could see was that I was still living in a house where, when it rained you needed an umbrella inside—and no, I’m not exaggerating.

Over the next nine years, we raised and replaced the roof, replaced the heating system, installed all new windows and siding, moved and built two new bathrooms, and remodeled three of the five bedrooms. But the turret, the one room I’d been dreaming about since day one, was left unfinished.

I don’t know how many times I suggested he tackle it, and every time he had an excuse not to—until the day his mother called. She told him she was giving us a bunch of family heirlooms and that he’d better get the turret finished. He started it the next day. I spent nine years begging for him to work on the turret, and all it took was one phone call from his mother.

I would complain, but really, I can’t. He did the most amazing job. He built a tray ceiling in a decagon that mirrored the windows, added a chandelier with an ornate medallion, and rebuilt and refinished the pocket door. The room is almost done except for the hardwood floors…maybe when I get my next royalty check. But I have to say that it’s almost worth it.

I wonder if I can get his mother to call about the kitchen and the dining room?

I'm giving away a copy of my latest book, Wild Thing and a $25 Amazon or Barnes And Noble Gift Certificate to a lucky commenter in the US or CAN only who answers the following questions... Are you handy or married to Mr. Fix it? Would you rather remodel a house or have one built?

Congratulations! Winners from Jana DeLeon's drawings are:

Alison - $25 gift card

amf, Sarah S., and Angela Bount have all won autographed copies of my next Intrigue.

Please contact me through my website and we'll work out the mailing/etc.

Off To A Slow Start

2012-01-09T07:04:00.007-06:00

You ever had one of those days where if you were certain the dog wouldn't pee on the floor, you'd never have gotten out of bed? That's me today. I am a staggering comedy of errors.

It all began with a cold - seems everyone was sick around holiday time and I knew I'd end up with something eventually. I got a cold, which promptly turned into bronchitis as I am prone to all things respiratory. The bronchitis promptly set off my asthma so that breathing became an Olympic event. That means sleeping up right. Which means my back is now on fire. I have a chronic, inoperable back issue and the thing that irritates it worst is - wait for it - typing. Yeah, a writer with a back problem that's aggravated by typing. The thing that irritates it second worst is sleeping upright. So I finally had to take pain killers for the back in order to move and they have upset my stomach (I have an ulcer). I have to take medicine for allergies (to keep the respiratory situation from worsening) and those set off PVCs (an irregular heartbeat).

See, a staggering comedy of errors as the PVCs made me dizzy. So far this morning, I've already ran into two door frames and stubbed my foot on my desk. Then I filled the coffee maker with water and was about to turn it on when I realized there was no coffee in it. The dizziness also gives me a raging headache and as it's raining today, the Sheltie thinks he should bark every couple of minutes to warn me of the thunder.

Oh, and did I mention that I have to work today? Yeah, see my company, in their cheap wisdom, decided to cut our sick time in half, so now it only takes one major thing and it's all gone like the foot surgery I had last year - and yes, that's the foot I stubbed this morning). All I have to say is, they're getting pot luck and that's no one's fault but their own.

Despite the back/cold/breathing problems of the last two weeks, I've been working on my schedule for 2012. This year, I will release four books with Harlequin and at least one straight-to-digital, the first of a new humorous mystery series. All while still working full time. I know, I'm a glutton.

I've also decided that 2012 is the year of organization. We moved in a rush in July and things are just shoved into closets or boxes. I have got to pull everything out, judiciously donate things we don't need, and get everything else labeled and stored.

2012 is also the year of the social butterfly. Yes, I said it. I'm going to work harder staying in touch with you guys. For an introvert that hasn't paid much attention to social media, I'm sorta behind the curve. But I'll get there. I have a year, right? (BTW, when I first wrote this post, I said "behind the curse." Freudian slip, much?) :)

So now, I have homework for you: when you get a chance, please go Like my new Facebook Author Page. I will use that page to announce all coming books and for contests during the year. Here's a link:

Jana DeLeon Author Page

Last but not least, 2012 is the year I get into better shape, health-wise. I know, I said it. But the reality is, I'm not getting any younger, yet I want to work even harder. I have to be in good enough shape to do that. I'm not going to make drastic changes - just small changes along the way until I've created a way of life that is healthy and tolerable.

What about you? Any big plans for the new year? Did you accomplish everything you wanted to in 2011?

Write a post about your 2012 and you'll be entered to win a $25 gift card to bn/amazon - your choice. I am also giving away three copies of my February 2012 Intrigue release - so you can get it early, if you're selected. All posts enter you in the grand prize drawing for the Kindle or Nook.

Good luck!

Deadly - Draggin' - DeLeon

WINNER! Sandy, according to random.org, you're the winner of Amanda Brice's $25 gift card. Please email amandabrice (at) romancedivas (dot) com to claim it.

WINNERS!! Rebekah E. StephanieJS, Virginia, and catslady, according to random.org, you're the winners of Diana Layne's e-books. Please email dianalayne (at) yahoo (dot) com to claim them.

Guest blogger: Diana Layne!

2012-01-07T02:31:00.002-06:00

I'm thrilled to welcome my Ruby Sister Diana Layne to the Killer blog today in honor of her debut release, A Pirate's Proposal, a historical romance which will be out on January 18 from the Wild Rose Press, and her mainstream suspense/thriller, The Good Daughter, a mafia tale that is coming soon on Amazon. And since her guest blog is during our Killer contest, any comments left today will be extra entries for the Kindle or Nook grand prize!

So here's Diana!

___________________________

I NEED TO GET ORGANIZED…AGAIN!

Hi, everyone, I’m so happy to be here at Killer Fiction! Since we’re all friends, I have a confession for you: Organization does not come easy to me. I have to work at it and work hard…and if I’m not diligent, I find that once again clutter is controlling my life.

Unfortunately, I came out of a book editing fog right before Christmas and noticed that clutter had once again regained control.

I had just started my baking and hadn’t even begun wrapping. The mess of paper on the floor is what I dug out of the closet. I’m sure I put it up much more neatly last year. Didn’t I?

Now, in my defense, there are anywhere from 7 to 10 people living at my house at any one time. Even though I have six children, four of them are grown, and how so many ended up back home is a puzzle to me. Currently we are at 7 ¾ as my new granddaughter will be born in March.

I homeschool my youngest two (ages 7 and 9), I write, I shop and cook for the bunch. Others have pitched in with the cleaning, and I suspect this is where I’ve lost control. No one knows what current organizing system I’m using…mainly because I don’t know what system I’m using. I think coming up with a system needs to be a family affair now, right? Except they’re all in school and working and having babies…oh, when do we have time to get organized?

Still, if I can dig out some minutes in our day, (FlyLady says organizing can be done in fifteen minutes a day, more on her in a minute),there are tons of resources available. A long time ago I started with Confessions of an Organized Housewife. Yes, we were married to the house back then. At the time I only had three children, all under age five, and I ran three home businesses: housecleaning, daycare and teaching piano, and I also played piano for our church. Writing was only a longed-for, far-off dream to escape the hectic pace of life. With the hours in my day rapidly shrinking, this book was a sanity-saver back then; although, I will admit, it took me a while to get everything she proposed implemented. For example, one of her tips was to label each piece of your puzzles (like puzzle one, label all pieces, A, A, A, puzzle two, B, B, B, etc), then cut out the pictures on the lids and store pieces and picture in a plastic zip lock bag. I believe she then hole-punched the bags and stored them in notebooks. Well, we had a LOT of puzzles (this was before Internet) and I ran out of the alphabet. So then I started on numbers.

I also realized I was a piler not a filer so I tossed them all in a big bucket instead of the notebooks. (Are you a piler or filer? Take the quiz: here.)To this day, 25 years later, I still have those puzzles organized, and we made it through the years only losing a few pieces.

Once I got a system going, my life, and my family’s life, worked much better.
It seems like my organizing only lasts for so long though, and soon, I’m looking for inspiration to do it all again. This might be because at these times I’ve entered a new phase of life and need a new system. (Like homeschooling and writing and juggling a big family.)

If you Google, you’ll find plenty of organizing sites. I love organizing sites; I could read about organizing all day….

But seriously, two I absolutely love are FlyLady and Organized Home.

When I became a Flybaby, I diligently polished my sink every night prompting my husband, at one point, to question just exactly why I was doing that. (I believe his exact words were, “Why the hell do you keep cleaning the sink?”)

“I dunno,” I replied. “FlyLady said I had to.” And the FlyLady’s point is if you wake up to a clean, shiny sink, your day starts off better. The only problem with that is with so many people living here—10 at that time—I always woke up with dirty dishes in the sink. At least at my house, I guess dishes multiply like rabbits. I will admit that discouraged me so I abandoned FlyLady—at least until I get rid of every—oops, I mean until everyone moves.

As for the Organized Home site, lots of good articles and ideas and plenty of templates to print out for your home notebook, which is a notebook to help you keep things organized. I love making these notebooks, and there are templates for every kind of notebook you can imagine. After they’re made though, I tend to stare at them and turn the pages and admire their perfection. Use them though? Nah, not really.
Right now, what works best for me is my little day planner where I scribble everything down, even writing ideas. (This apparently is a piler tendency according to that test.) I decided at this time, I’m just going to try to hang on until the grown kids, spouses, and grandkids move back out, and then I’m renting a dump truck from the city and going through the house room by room and starting over. Just another year… :)

What about you? Do you have any great tips for staying organized?

Diana Layne writes in various genres, from historical romance to mainstream suspense. Her historical romance, Pirate’s Proposal will be released on January 18, 2012 from The Wild Rose Press. And her mainstream suspense, The Good Daughter, will be live on Amazon soon.

Four lucky commenters will receive an IOU for either Pirate’s Proposal or The Good Daughter (winners’ choice). For more info on each book please visit www.dianalayne.com

Pirate's Proposal The Good Daughter

New year...new baby...new works

2012-01-06T04:13:00.005-06:00

ATTENTION KIMA! YOU'RE THE WINNER OF LESLIE LANGTRY'S $25 GIFT CARD. SHE'll CONTACT YOU WITH DETAILS. CONGRATS!!!!!

It's a new year! I'm home on maternity leave with my newborn. And I'm spoiled.

Admittedly I had a very, shall we say, challenging first baby. They always say "sleep when your baby sleeps." Well, that wasn't possible with her. She literally would only sleep every 30 minutes, morning noon or night.

But this one is a really good sleeper. He gives us a 5-hr stretch at night, followed by a 4-hr stretch. (And this is despite being exclusively breastfed, too!) And he even sleeps well during the day, too, so I can write.

Yes, that's right...I'm writing!!! I seriously doubted I would be able to, but I am, and it feels great.

I'm finishing up POINTE OF NO RETURN, which is the sequel to CODENAME: DANCER. I'm also working on a short story set in that same world that will be published in a multi-author ebook anthology this spring.

I'm pretty excited about the short story actually, but it doesn't have a title. So leave me a comment today with a suggestion for a title, and you'll be entered to win a $25 gift card to either Amazon or Barnes & Noble (your choice).

Here's the deal...the story takes place during spring break. My heroine and her friends are dance students at a performing arts boarding school and they solve mysteries in their spare time. They've gone to Sedona, Arizona (home of the famous gorgeous red rocks) for a class trip. My heroine is still flirting with her love interest, who is an inspiring actor. He's not there because he's in LA auditioning for a part in the brand new vampire movie based on the popular Midnight series (ahem, Twilight). My heroine and her friends are obsessed with vampires, btw.

I like punny titles and I make reference to the dance theme in some way, so I'd like to stick to that motif.

Any ideas?

CONTEST! SOMEONE WHO COMMENTS TODAY WILL WIN A $25 GIFT CARD TO EITHER AMAZON OR BN - YOUR CHOICE! AND...YOU WILL BE ENTERED TO WITH A KINDLE FIRE OR NOOK COLOR AT THE END OF THE CONTEST! CHECK IT OUT AND COMMENT!

Winner!! Barbara Elness you are the winner of a $25 B&N gift card from Christie Craig's Twitter contest. Please email her at Christie(at)christie-craig(dot)com with your snail mail address.

What To Think Of 2012:

2012-01-05T01:45:00.000-06:00

OR:

2012 has just started and already I'm overwhelmed. I'm rushing to finish my 7th book which will also be my first self-published novel. I have a couple of scripts in the works that I may have a chance to pitch in the very near future as well as a few other novels (which I hope to publish the old fashioned way) that I need to flesh out and hand over to my new agent who is waiting not-so patiently for them. I've also started a new relationship. It feels odd to say the word, "relationship." I haven't used that word to describe any of my romantic dalliances for quite some time. I've said, "We're dating." or "We've been hanging out." But a relationship? Just saying the word gives me minor heart palpitations...although it makes me smile too.

In fact that's how I'm reacting to pretty much everything these days: I smile through my heart palpitations. Everything seems scary, exciting, new and fun. The uncertainty keeps me up at night but the opportunities give me enough adrenaline to keep me going (well, that and a lot of caffeine). I can't wait to see how things work out and yet I'm terrified to know. Will this be the year I'm able to take my writing career to new heights or will I need to find another day job? Will this relationship work out or will I end up swearing off commitments for eternity? I realize there's probably a middle ground that I'm ignoring but this feels like it's going to be a year of extremes.

All I'm sure of is that 2012 is going to be a big one for me...I just don't know what that means.

What about you? Do you have any hopes, dreams and/or fears for the this year? Will it be a year of prosperity or the year of the Mayan apocalypse? So many possibilities!

CONTEST! SOMEONE WHO COMMENTS TODAY WILL WIN A SIGNED COPY OF VOWS, VENDETTAS & A LITTLE BLACK DRESS! AND...YOU WILL BE ENTERED TO WITH A KINDLE FIRE OR NOOK COLOR AT THE END OF THE CONTEST! CHECK IT OUT AND COMMENT!

Kyra "Fashionista Fatale" Davis

New Year's Resolutions of the Mildly Damned.

2012-01-04T03:06:00.000-06:00

Some motivation required...

I bet you can guess what my New Year's Resolution is! Yeah, it's kind of obvious. Anyway, just before New Year's, Mr. Assassin and I joined a gym! I know, right?

So Tuesday, I came home from work, changed my clothes (aka squish into exercise bra and hunt for a pair of sweatsocks - I haven't seen any in 10 years) and announced to Mr. A (we always announce things in our house) that I was ready.

Mr. A couldn't hear me over his sniffling and sneezing. Apparently, he was sick. And apparently, I was going to the gym for the first time - all alone.

Of all the types of (torture) exercise out there, my favorite has always been the (torture devices) machines. I don't know why. Maybe it's because it's a system that's easy (enough for an idiot like me) to follow. I'd like to think it's because I'm interesting, but truth be told, I need total structure. And a line of machines in a logical progression works best (brainwashing) for me.

I did 30 minutes on machines (eternally grateful I didn't know anyone there - or have my kids on hand with their facebook-posting capabilities). Then I did 20 minutes on the treadmill. And believe it or not, I had no problem figuring out how each machine worked, but almost burst into tears trying to operate the treadmill. Treadmills are HARD.

I got home feeling sore and somewhat satisfied with myself. By the time bedtime came - I was mainlining ibuprofen (but I don't have a problem or anything). I threw in a couple tylenol PM as a chaser.

If I wake up in the morning and have 10% use of my limbs, I will consider this a success. I'll probably be typing my responses with my ear, but oh well.

What are your resolutions this year (what strikes terror into your heart)?

The Assassin

Kick Off the New Year!

2012-01-03T00:01:00.007-06:00

Yesterday's winner of the $25 giftcard is Brandie!!! Brandie email me at Christie (at) christie(-)craig.com
Thank you everyone who posted and sent well wishes!!!

Contest: Today’s blog is part of Killer Fiction’s Kick Off the New Year’s contest. So make sure you leave a post.

Contest announcements: Winner of my last Blog Post: Theresa N. Theresa email me at Christie(at)christie-craig.com.

A Free, 500-Dollar Junkyard Dog:

A heartfelt tale of woe with a silver lining

It’s been a tough month at the Craig house. It’s hubby again. No, he didn’t set anything on fire this time; he got sick. Really sick. And you guys know that while I tell funny stories about him all the time, he’s my real-life hero. So when he got sick, and I’m talking driving him to the emergency room sick, I was really scared. And really pissed. Because hubby didn’t want to go to the emergency room. Can someone explain why it’s so hard for a man to admit he’s sick? Never mind that he couldn’t breathe. He insisted it was just something that would pass. As if breathing isn’t that important, right? Men!!!

Anyway, after I finally got him to the hospital, they kept him for a few days, did a bunch of tests, but couldn’t find the problem. And when the symptoms disappeared, they sent him home with no diagnosis.

Well, a week later, the symptoms returned and were even worse this time. That led to another trip to the ER and then, believe it or not, yet another one. Both times I had to fight him to go. The last time I told the hospital staff, “You’re keeping him until you know what’s wrong with him.” Hey, I wasn’t really pawning him off, I was that worried.

However, the threat of having to keep him (maybe they’ve read my blog) made them dig a little deeper. They found something. Not a good something, either. A sonogram showed his heart was enlarged. It could be blockage. Serious blockage. Or it could be a virus. They did a heart cath to find out what was happening. It was the virus, but as the doctor told us, this is the best diagnosis of the two. In more than 50% of these cases, with the right meds, the heart will repair itself within a year. There’s just one little issue. Because his heart is “virus-stricken” and weak, he has to wear what they call a . . . life vest.

They can call it what they want, but I call it a battery-operated bra. About time the man knows what I go through trying to support my girls. Anyway, this bra is equipped with sensors that monitor his heart, and it has a ready-to-fire-at-any-moment defibrillator. I tease him about it endlessly. “Be good to me, or I’ll take your battery out.” Hey…humor is how we deal with things, remember?

So…I’m sure you guys are wondering how the $500 dollar junkyard dog comes into this story, right? I’m getting there. But first comes a little more woe. Do you remember the blog post about my son’s dog, Rex? I had him neutered because he suddenly became aggressive? And that seemed to take away the aggression issue. At least we thought it did.

His aggressive behavior happened again, only worse this time. After almost a month of in-and-out hospital stays with hubby, I hadn’t been very social. My friend called. She knew I’d had a rough few weeks and also knew sometimes just sharing a cup of something warm over a conversation with a friend can help relieve the stress.

She comes over, we’re in the entryway, Rex greets her happily, tail’s wagging and all is right in the world. And then it happened. Neither of us saw it coming. For some unknown reason, Rex attacked. While she was at the emergency room getting stitches, hubby and I were at the vet saying good-bye to our pet. As difficult as it was, there really wasn’t any option. Even the vet had warned us when we had him neutered, that some dogs are just aggressive by nature. It could have been so much worse, the injury could have been life-threatening. It could have been a child.

While it was the right thing to do, it hurt like the devil. Even with his flaws and his baffling unprovoked aggression issues, he was loved and brought us lots of joy. We all cried. My friend felt terrible, my son vowed to never love another animal. And when we walked out of the vet’s office, Hubby’s eyes filled with emotion, and he made me promise him that we would never, ever get another dog. I was so concerned about this stress on his weakened heart, that at that moment, I would have promised him the world.

And I wouldn’t have gone back on that promise. At least I didn’t think I would.

The very next day, our hearts were heavy; my son and hubby went to a junkyard to look at an old car, a Falcon Ranchero, they wanted to restore. I got the call about an hour later.

“We bought the car,” Hubby said.

“Good,” I lied. I mean, they really don’t need another car to work on. Isn’t two fixer-uppers enough?

“There’s something else I want to bring home,” Hubby said.

“Not another car, baby. We don’t have enough room.”

“Not a car,” he told me. “A dog.”

“You’re joking, right.” Really, I thought he was joking.

“No,” he answered in his dead serious tone.

“Aren’t you at a junkyard?” I asked.

“Yeah,” he said.

The absurdity of this rolled over me like a dump truck. “You want to bring home a junkyard dog?”

“Yes.”

“No,” I counter, in my blunt voice.

“She’s a sweet junkyard dog,” he said.

Junkyard dog and sweet don’t belong in the same sentence. “No,” I repeated.

“She’s young.”

“No.”

“She’s pretty.”

“No.”

“She needs a home.” I could almost hear his heart breaking over the line and when I didn’t say anything, he added, “She needs someone to save her.”

Damn, that man always knows how to pull on my heartstrings, but a junkyard dog? Then it hit me. The man’s connected to a defibrillator. I can’t break his heart.

“Do you really want this dog?” I asked him.

“Yes,” he said.

“Is she housebroken?” I asked.

“I don’t think she’s ever been inside a house.”

“Does she have fleas and ticks?”

“Of course, she does. She’s a junkyard dog.”

“Are you really serious?” I asked.

“She’s free,” he said.

You do remember how cheap he is, right? I reminded him what they say about nothing being free. “She could cost as much as a couple of hundred dollars to take her to the vet.” I thought that would change his mind.

I was wrong, both about how much it would cost and about it changing his mind. So I threw in the towel. I mean, seriously, what were my choices? The man’s wearing a defibrillator.

A couple of hours later, son and hubby pulled up with this free junkyard dog. Of course, that was after they stopped at Whataburger and got three meal deals. One for the dog.

"You get to name her," hubby said. And believe me in this household that’s an honor. They never let me name an animal.

I petted her, cautiously. She accepted my hand guardedly. She’s covered in fleas and ticks. But he was right. She was sweet and soft as silk. And unlike any junkyard dog I’ve ever known, she’s completely meek and docile. I took one look at her and named her Lady.

Hubby and son bathed her and took her to the vet. An hour later, we had good news and bad news. She’s only seven to eight months old and doesn’t have mange or heartworms. That’s it for the good news. On the other hand, she was severely anemic, severely malnourished, has all sorts of worms, and had kennel cough.

And oh yeah, she’s no lady.

I don’t mean she’s a boy. I mean, she’d been playing with the boys. Yup, she was pregnant. However, the vet didn’t think she was healthy enough to carry the babies. As a matter of fact, the vet said she didn’t think she would have survived much longer. So after another few swipes of our American Express, we had ourselves a free, $500, spayed junkyard dog.

She’s adapting to her new lifestyle. At first, she ate food whole, chewing was optional—I mean what if someone decided to take it away from her? She now chews her food, enjoys her memory foam bed at night, and thinks sofas are much more comfortable that my hardwood floors. She much prefers gnawing on shoes or a pair of jeans to the sticks that she used to find outside. She finds it much more productive to steal the family pack of 96% ground round set out on the counter than to raid garbage-cans. (I still don’t know how she got on the counter, or how she ate all of it so quickly.) She decided the leftover grilled chicken on the table must have been hers. Why else would we have left it unattended for ONE minute? She’s certain that the cat food set out on the windowsill is hers, and not the kitties’. After one week, Lady has gained five pounds and hasn’t had one potty accident inside.

And the kitties? Well, she must have a little pointer dog in her, because she sees a feline, goes completely still, quietly raises and folds up one paw. Her tail goes straight and she stares at the varmint. When we don’t do anything, she then looks at us as if to say. “I found it, now you shoot it. Hey, I did my job. You do yours.” Yeah, she’s still adapting, with a few scratches on her nose, to living with the felines. Lady has gained five pounds and hasn’t had one potty accident inside.

But as she hangs out at her bra-wearing rescuer’s side, keeping him company, helping him as he hopefully makes a full recovery, I have to admit, she’s the best five-hundred dollars my hubby has ever spent. She needed us; but in truth, we needed her, too.

So what about you guys? Have you ever taken in a stray? Today, as part of the New Year’s contest, I’m giving away a $25 card to either Barnes and Noble or Amazon-the winner’s choice. So make sure you leave a comment. And remember, Jan. 15^th, we’re giving away either a Kindle or a Nook. So make sure you come back every day and leave comments. Also, check out the sidebar to see how you can get even more chances to enter.

What Do Readers Mean to an Author? EVERYTHING! by Diane Kelly

2012-01-02T00:01:00.002-06:00

When I first began writing a decade ago, I did it for selfish reasons. My children were young then, but finally old enough to give me a few minutes to myself on occasion. Though I loved being a wife and mother (and still do), I felt as if my personal identity had been consumed by my roles as “mommy” and “wife” and “dog walker/litter box cleaner.” Writing was my escape not only into another place, but also into another identity as I lived vicariously through my heroines. At that time, becoming a published novelist seemed like a pipe dream, so giving any thought to people who might read my work would have felt presumptuous. Who was I to think someone might actually want to read the silly stories I’d written?

Over the ensuing years, I became more serious about my writing. I took creative writing classes, attended meetings and conferences hosted by writers organizations, and read virtually every book about writing and publishing that I could get my hands on. I entered dozens of writing contests, my heart breaking early on when my work scored low, but later soaring when my work began earning fairly consistent high scores. Somewhere along the line, that “pipe dream” evolved into a goal. I was bound and determined that one day my books would appear on bookstore shelves.

My debut novel came out two months ago and the time since has been an exciting whirlwind of activity - my first reviews, my first book signing, my first “guest appearance” at a book club. It’s all been so much fun! But my favorite part by far has been connecting with readers. It puts me on cloud nine when someone who has read my book tells me how much they enjoyed it. I realize now that, though I began writing for my own reasons, what will keep me writing is my readers and that wonderful feeling of connecting to other people through my stories.

What is it about a book that really makes you feel a connection to the story or the author? Is it the characters? The themes? The action? The author’s voice? A combination of these factors? Something else entirely?

Join in the conversation today and you’ll be entered not only in a drawing for a $25 Barnes & Noble e-giftcard to be given away at 9:00 pm central time tonight, but you’ll also be entered in a drawing for our grand prize of the winner’s choice of a Nook Color or Kindle Fire (or equivalent value giftcard to Barnes & Noble or Amazon). Details are on the sidebar. Be sure to email me at diane@dianekelly.com if you’ve referred a commenter or with the link to your blog, tweet, or Facebook note regarding our contest so I can make sure you receive your extra entries.

Thanks for visiting us here at Killer Fiction, and good luck in our contest!

Diane Kelly is the author of the Death & Taxes romantic mystery series. Her debut novel - Death, Taxes, and a French Manicure - is in bookstores now. Book #2 - Death, Taxes, and a Skinny No-Whip Latte - will be release on March 1st and is available for pre-order. Visit Diane and read excerpts at www.dianekelly.com

New Year's Resolutions

2011-12-30T03:00:00.001-06:00

I hope everyone had a wonderful Christmas this year! I had a fabulous time. Lots of family, lots of food, lots of gifts. The Man and I went a little bit overboard with presents for the kids this year, but it was totally worth it on Christmas morning. This was the first year that we let my 11 year old be an “honorary elf”, and he loved the job. My 2 year old now adds “Merry Miss-mas” to the end of everything he says. I have a feeling we’ll be hearing it well into June.

In addition to the items Santa left under the tree for me this year, we also got another amazing gift… we found out that we’ll be welcoming a new baby into the family soon! I’m due in July, so anyone who has baby names suggestions, lay em on me. (We’re so bad at names. My 2 year old was “little buddy” for the first week of his life before we settled on something.)

In light of our upcoming addition, I’ve been sitting down and composing my list of New Year’s resolutions. Here’s what I’ve got so far:

1. Say “no” more often. This year I calculated that I’ve spent at least two whole months working on writing related “extras” (guest blogs, promo activities, interviews, etc.), and not working on my next book. This year I know I’m going to be shorter on time than usual… at least after July… which means I’m going to have to use it wisely when I have it. As much as I love doing all the extras, I’m going to make myself say no more often.

2. Keep a clean office! I am not one of those people that can write in a messy space. When my surroundings are unorganized, my thoughts get unorganized, too. And for the last four months my office has been in a constant state of disarray. At the moment, it’s a dumping ground for discarded furniture from throughout the house and unpacked moving boxes. Come January, cleaning it up is my first project, and keeping it clean will be my challenge.

3. Make sleep a priority. I know, I can hear some of you laughing at me already. “She’s having a new baby and expects to get more sleep?” But the truth is that everything else in my life seems to come before sleep for me. I’ll short myself on sleep to sneak in more writing time, or to sneak in more alone time with The Man after the kids go to bed, or to have a few minutes to myself before the kids get up. But the truth is, I’m always exhausted and never quite getting enough sleep. I read a study once that said the people who live the longest get an average of 9 hours of sleep a night. If that’s true, I’m so screwed. So, I’m vowing to get more sleep whenever I can.

4. Don’t worry , be happy. Yes, I totally stole that from Bobby McFerrin, but it’s going to be my no-stress motto this year. I learned some very valuable lessons in 2011. Like, I can extend a book deadline by 6 months, and the world doesn’t actually come to an end. I can experiment with different genres, and my readership won’t instantly abandon my en masse. I can even forget to blog one day (sorry, ladies!), and the wrath of the writing gods does not rain down upon me. Really, there’s nothing all that important that’s it worth the mental and physical stress we tend to put on ourselves about it. So I’m going to try to worry less and be happy with whatever the outcome is more.

Anyone else have some resolutions that they’d like to publicly announce? (Because once you write it here, I will hold you to it!) Any fun New Year’s plans? Whatever they are, I hope enjoy saying good-bye to 2011 and welcoming in 2012! See you all next year…

~Trigger Happy Halliday

P.S. Don’t forget to come join us for our super spectacular New Year’s bash here next week as we’ll be giving away prizes every day, plus a fabulous ereader grand prize! Details are on the sidebar à

Mad for Mad Men

2011-12-29T04:45:00.000-06:00

Between my day job, writing, and the demands of family, I don't often get much time to watch TV. Most of my television viewing comes from DVDs. So, when my daughter asked me to pick up copies of the Mad Men seasons for her when they went on sale, I took a peek at Season One and decided to put it in and watch it while I was sorting and shredding papers.

Big mistake.

I got hooked.

I love the fashions of the sixties. And while I would never give up my jeans and hoodies, seeing the women in Mad Men dressed to the nines made me a bit nostalgic--and yearning for a more glamorous time. The fabrics are colorful, the designs smart and classy. And it got me wondering if I could pull off these fashions like the women in the show do. Unfortunately--or maybe fortunately--we'll never know.

As a writer, I am also impressed by the quality of the writing. I can't tell you how many times I've heard a line of dialogue and thought, "Oh, wow! That writer nailed it!"

The acting isn't bad either.

I've finished Season Four. And while there have been times I've wanted to toss something at one of the characters on the TV screen, I am still very glad I put that first DVD in the player.

What TV show is a must-see for you? Any show you can't miss or is a must DVR?

While I have you here, may I take this opportunity to wish you a safe, happy, and prosperous New Year filled with wonderful books and incredible stories!

They say what you do on New Year's, you do the year-round. I plan to make certain I find some time to write.

~Bullet Hole~

I thought I could do it

2011-12-28T03:00:00.000-06:00

They say you learn something new every day. Well recently, I learned I'm not a plumber. Now some of you may have already realized that. I sure wish I had.

Case in point: I'd been after my husband for several weeks to fix a running toilet. It's a waste of water, it's annoying and worst of all, when the house is quiet at the end of the day, it becomes that niggling thing that makes me feel like we haven't quite gotten enough done.

So the other night, when the house was quiet and all I could hear was the blasted toilet running, I decided to do something about it. It's just plumbing, right? Pipes and ball plungers are logical. They follow the rules of physics. I can reason my way through it (or so I tell myself). And just because it's 11:50 p.m. doesn't mean I can't start a new project.

I went and got tools from the basement, I put on a baseball hat (not sure how that was supposed to help, but I did it), I lifted the back lid and started fiddling. Now I am proud to say I figured out the problem. The little tube with the ball on the end needed to be out of the water and the water would stop running. But that's where my expertise ended. How to get the little ball to stay out of the water? Holding it up all night wasn't an option. See? Logical.

While figuring out what to do next, I bent the little tube back, just to see how far it could go. I was curious. Don't you want to know how far it can go? No, you don't. Snap! The tube broke. Then the one attached broke. Water shot up to the ceiling. It was like a geyser. Water shot out toward me, in case I wasn't soaked enough. My husband was out of town (or else he would have talked me out of this at the baseball cap stage). I call him to ask him how the heck I was supposed to shut off the water. He told me about the valve on the side of the commode (proving yet again that I'm not a plumber).

The bathroom is filling with water faster than the Titanic. I'm on my hands and knees, trying to turn the knob, only it will not budge (no doubt fastened by someone much stronger than me). I'm reduced to begging a toilet knob to turn while scrambling through my mental rolodex to decide which neighbor to wake at midnight in order to turn the knob in a bathroom that now has at least a half an inch of water on the floor.

Finally, it turns. The water ceases. I'm soaked to the bone and the toilet is way, way broken. I clean everything up, thank my frantic husband, take a shower and ponder just why I thought I was a plumber in the first place.

Want to know my theory? I think it has something to do with the fact that writers are curious people. The same thing that makes me want to ride with Harley bikers and their dogs is the same thing that made me want to explore the intricacies of toilet maintenance. If the tube hadn't snapped, I might have succeeded (Don't tell my husband I said that. He's still a bit horrified.)

And while things didn't work out the other night, I don't think I want to change. Well, until the next home crisis.

Preparing for War

2011-12-26T07:46:00.002-06:00

Or the new year - same thing.

2012 is upon us in a week. Are you a goals person? Do you make charts and spreadsheets plotting your mini-destinations during the year? I do. I will be making up my work schedule for 2012 this week, trying to fit in all the things I need to do and some of the things I want to do. It's going to be a very busy 2012, but hopefully, a lot will get done.

Something I started working on last week is using a novel-writing software. I've been thinking I need to try something to see if I can better organize my fiction writing, especially writing series books. Flipping through every page of a document to find the color of car someone was driving is simply not the most efficient method to write.

So I downloaded a trial of Scrivener for PC. And I have to say, that I'm really enjoying it. It's simple to use the basic things and as long as I do the work of taking proper notes, it will allow me to have all my research and info right there on the same screen I'm writing the document on. Scrivener also allows you to break up your work into chunks - like chapters or even scenes. As I sometimes write books out of order, that's really cool. I can write a random scene and then drag and drop it later on where I want it to fit in the book. It also has a corkboard (printable) with little stickies that have a synopsis of each chapter written on them. So you can see your book at a glance.

Are you planning on incorporating any productivity tools into your new year? If so, what are they? I may want them, too. :)

Deadly DeLeon

2011-12-24T00:01:00.001-06:00

Murder, Mayhem and Mama, my new ebook, is now up and available exclusively at Barnes and Noble. It won't be available elsewhere until February. So go to Barnes and Noble to get it now!

I am also running a Twitter contest with a chance to win a $25 Barnes and Noble gift card. Just look for the hashtag #Christie_Craig and retweet the message. You could be a winner!! Then check back here at Killer Fiction on January 6 when I announce the winner.

Guest Blog: Barbra Annino

2011-12-23T01:13:00.000-06:00

Happy holidays! My gift to you is a great guest blog from author Barbra Annino. She's giving away 3 copies of her e-book, so be sure to leave a comment and you're entered to win!

Take it away, Barbra!

_________________________________________

I spent a great deal of time with my Irish grandmother and her sisters when I was young. Anyone familiar with the culture of the Emerald Isle knows it is steeped in superstition and supernatural phenomenon. Ghost stories weren't told around a dim campfire at our house. They were shared over coffee, cake and Marlboros. They were passed along like a saltshaker, not to be feared--"because the dead cannot hurt you, only the living can"--but to be revered as tiny lessons gifted to us by the dearly departed.

I used to watch the women in my family share recipes and swap stories that would scare the pants off my friends, but these women weren't fazed by the shocking tales they told. Often I would imagine--listening to them wax on about the prom date that disappeared through the cemetery bars as they whipped up batches of fresh baked bread--that they were witches implementing spells into their food.

And perhaps they were. Because I believe there's a little bit of witch in every woman. Although the potions may only be as exotic as a Cabernet and the spell may come in the form of a kind ear and chocolate layer cake, still, there is strength within us that can transcend any problem. There's something magical about that.

I wanted to create a character who had that kind of strength and that special form of magic. Stacy Justice, the protagonist in my gemstone series, is a strong woman who worries more about her family than her boyfriend. She's more interested in excelling at work than the latest shoe sale and above all, she tries to do the right thing. Which isn't always easy when your family is driving you crazy, your grandmother insists you are witch with a high calling and oh yeah, someone is trying to kill you.

The series is laugh-out-loud fun with a mix of mystery, magic and paranormal fantasy all rolled into one. You can learn more at my website: http://www.barbraannino.com. Or visit my Facebook page Barbra Annino.

Opal Fire, Stacy Justice Book One
Reporter Stacy Justice did not expect to be set on fire that night, but being raised by witches prepares one for life's little surprises. In fact, she isn't the least bit shocked when her cousin is accused of arson, or when her divorced grandparents sign up for a marriage retreat, or even when her own boyfriend hauls her off to jail. But when a decades-old corpse is discovered within the walls of her cousin's bar, even Stacy is rattled. Now, someone wants her dead and she finds herself dodging angry motorists, exploding chickens and a very creepy man who lurks around every corner. As she begins to unearth long-buried secrets, Stacy learns that even those closest to her have something to hide- and she's about to discover a destiny she never imagined.

As a special gift to readers of this blog, I'm offering three copies FREE. Just leave a comment and random.org will choose the winners. Delivery of ebooks via a Smashwords coupon.

Sincerely,
Barbra Annino

Hanukkah - A Small Holiday That's A Big Deal

2011-12-22T10:06:00.000-06:00

This week my son and I are celebrating Hanukkah. We make a big deal out of it. We collect menorahs (ever year since he was two we've gotten a new one), we play dreidel, we decorate the house, I make latkes and blintzes, he gets a gift every night and we try to do something special every day of the 8 day holiday.

Most people would say that as Jewish holidays go, Hanukkah is a pretty minor one and the only reason to make a big deal out of it is because you feel the need to compete with Christmas. They would also say that Hanukkah is a celebration of "The miracle of the light." See (as the story goes) back in the day some bad guys destroyed our temple and when we got it back we started to get it together again and inside that temple there was this sacred lamp that only had enough oil left to last 1 day but it was going to take 8 days to make more oil for it and then, miracle of miracles the oil that should have only lasted 1 day lasted for 8. That's why we light a candle on the menorah every night for 8 nights.

There is some truth to all that. Hanukkah isn't close to being a High Holiday and all the fuss about Christmas is...inspiring. But that's not my main motivation for making Hanukkah one of the most important holidays of the year within my household. It's also true that while the Holiday is nicknamed the, "Festival Of Light," that piece of the story is really a very small part of what we're celebrating and when rabbis talk about the holiday they usually only spend a few minutes talking about the oil. The greater message of the holiday is what makes me love it so much. Much like with Passover the overall themes of Hanukkah are as follows:

1) Survival
2) Perseverance
3) Freedom
4) Standing up for what's right

However unlike with the story of Passover there isn't a lot less divine intervention within the story of Hanukkah. This time, God doesn't give a Jewish leader assurances of success or tell him or her what the right thing to do is and yet the heroes of the story do it anyway. In the beginning of the Hanukkah we learn that the Jews were living as a minority group within a society that was completely tolerant of their religion and allowed them to take an active part of public life. And then there was a regime change and the practice of Judaism was outlawed. The Jews fought back and although they were greatly outnumbered they defeated the mighty and seeming superior army of our suppressors. Jews don't celebrate war which I think is why there is so much focus on the lamp but realistically we are celebrating a victory. A victory of right over wrong. The implication of the story is that societies should allow everyone to practice the religion they want to practice assuming it's not physically hurting anyone. We're told that even when we know that the odds are against us we should stand up for that right. And we celebrate the survival of the Jewish people.

I like that. So yes, we go all out for Hanukkah, so much so that I may have one of the few Jewish children who doesn't envy Christmas. But he also understands the message of the holiday and regardless of how religious or secular you are it's hard not to see how Hanukkah is kinda a big deal.

--Kyra "Fashionista Fatale" Davis

Merry Holidays!

2011-12-21T02:07:00.000-06:00

It's just a few days until Christmas. Is my shopping done? No. Am I at all organized? Not really. Does it bother me? Meh. I can wing it. I've never really been one of those people who gets worked up over the holidays. Maybe it's my low blood pressure...perhaps it's my laid back attitude...or maybe it's the vodka.

Christmas will happen and everything will be where it's supposed to be. My kids will be happy with what Santa brings them. My mom will love the mittens and hat I'm knitting her. We don't have overlapping schedules of things to do and places to be. All is right with the world.

I even got my present early. I got a dead tree removed. Oh, I didn't ask for that. It was something we were always going to do. The cedar tree had been hit by lightning a few summers ago. The top was sheared off and has long since been sliced up and burned in our fireplace. But the bottom half of the tree, the jagged, dead wood that loomed 40 feet over the house, that was still there, threatening to fall on every adorable elementary school kid who walks by our house twice a day.

A week ago, I was home with my son - who was sick. This guy rings the doorbell and introduces himself as "Spider." Spider was in the neighborhood - he motioned to the flatbed out front loaded with logs. He noticed our tree and said he'd give us a good quote. I gave the card to Mr. Assassin.

Who called me yesterday and said, "Oh yeah, and Spider is coming over to take down the tree for $300 today." I was pulling out of the driveway on a stealth mission to buy my daughter's presents (I said I had to go get tampons - she didn't want to go with me after that). Spider walks up to the car with a grin.

Spider is probably in his thirties, and weighs maybe 98 lbs. He's got long, stringy hair, a huge slurpee in one hand and a cigarette in the other.

Him: "Hey, man! I'm here to do the tree thing."
Me: "I can see that. Give me a minute to tell the kids (to lock the doors) not to let the dogs out (find their cell phones and take the safety off the flamethrower)."
Him: "That's cool."

I went in to make sure the kids were okay with a dude named Spider cutting down the tree in the yard with me gone. They assured me they were and locked up as I left. Meg, the teenager, insisted I go get "you know...that weird stuff," as she wiggled her eyebrows meaningfully.

The tree is down, just like Spider said. The kids were fine. They didn't even realize he was out there. And I got some of my shopping done. That is my Christmas miracle. At least, that's how I see it.

Peace,
The Assassin

Does Mama Know Best?

2011-12-20T00:01:00.003-06:00

Does your mother tell you who to date? Does she meddle in your life? Has she embarrassed you in front of your friends? Has she ever made you feel . . . crazy? Believe me, I know all about mom’s sticking their noses in one’s life. Everyone’s love life. You see, I’d jumped on a plane heading to my mom’s in California to escape a bad divorce. I’d been in the sunny state for less than eight hours when Mom has this tall handsome fellow show up on her doorstep. Can you believe that the day before she’d actually whipped out my old wedding photos to show this man my picture? But holy moly, the last thing I wanted was another man in my life. Ahh, but all I can say is, thank goodness, this handsome fellow was patient, and oh, yes, I’m forever grateful that in this one instance, my mama did know best. You see, this handsome fellow, Steve Craig, turned out to be a keeper. Not that all of my mama’s advice worked out so well. She liked the first husband, too. And there was the dye job she gave me that couldn’t be reversed and led to me wearing a hat for two months. And I can remember the fashion advice that, thank goodness, I was smart enough to avoid.

But, no matter how bad my mother is, or yours for that matter, she can’t begin to compete with Cali’s mom in Murder, Mayhem and Mama, my book being released electronically today. Cali’s mother wins all the meddling-mom awards. You see, Cali’s mom actually comes back from the dead to play match maker and to well… try to prevent her daughter’s dead-beat ex from hurting Cali. No, Cali’s mom’s not appearing in a puff of smoke wearing chains, but she does appear chain smoking in Cali’s dreams. And those dreams seem just a bit too real.

And yes, Cali’s mom is right about her ex-boyfriend being a weasel, and her mom’s desire to neuter the man, isn’t too far from what Cali would like to do herself. But now, her dead mom is pushing Cali toward the sexy detective, a very annoying sexy detective who thinks Cali still has a thing for the ex. Never mind that she learns the ex is now being accused of murder. Why would Cali want anything more to do with that guy? She would have never gotten involved with the man if she hadn’t been so stressed out about her mom’s dying. And why would Cali start falling for the cop who can be a bit of jerk? Surely, Mama doesn’t know best.

Or does she?

Now most mothers aren’t that bad. They may offer advice that lands you with perm that makes you look like a girl in the sixties, or a color that looks like it belongs in box of crayons and not on your head. They might fix you up with a guy they like because he has a nice career, but is short on personality and hair. But they don’t try to run your life—especially from the great beyond. But maybe there are exceptions. Has your mother, dead or alive, ever tried to play match maker for you? Has she tried to break up your relationship with a guy because he had one too many tattoos? (Granted in Cali’s case, her mother had her reasons!) So, I want to know, does your mother meddle in your life? Tell me a mother meddling story, good or bad, and I’ll chose one poster to win a $25 gift card to either Barnes and Noble or Amazon.

Check out the book trailer for Murder, Mayhem and Mama at http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xOjXesDUptM,

SCROOGE AND MARLEY by Diane Kelly

2011-12-19T00:01:00.010-06:00

When I watch one or another movie version of A Christmas Carol, I’m always struck by the fact that Ebenezer Scrooge hasn’t taken the time to change the sign for his business from “Scrooge & Marley” despite the fact that his business partner, Jacob Marley, has been dead for years. Although the failure to change the sign is a subtle indicator of Scrooge’s penny-pinching ways, it’s still creepy to have a long-dead man’s name hanging over the door of the business.

The people in our lives bring out different aspects of our personality. Some bring out the best in us, others the worst. Given that Scrooge is visited by the ghost of Jacob Marley wearing a long, heavy chain forged through a life of exploitation and greed, I imagine that Scrooge and Marley were of the latter variety, feeding off each other’s greed and insensitivity, together creating an evil, selfish synergy.

I can’t help but wonder - might Ebenezer have been a better man if he’d had a different business partner? What if Scrooge’s partner had been a different Marley?

Bob Marley would have made the perfect business partner. While he might have smoked the profits, he’d have happily shared a spliff with the uptight Ebenezer and perhaps gotten the old coot to loosen up a bit.

The golden lab from Marley and Me would’ve made a great partner for Scrooge, too. Hard to stay in a crabby mood with an adorable puppy bounding around and licking your toes.

I'm lucky to have a wonderful husband who brings out my goofy side and makes me feel anything is possible. I also have some wonderful friends who inspire my creativity and imagination. Who brings out the best in you? Let's chat about it!

Have a wonderful holiday season!

Diane Kelly is the author of the Death and Taxes humorous mystery series. Visit Diane at www.dianekelly.com.

Winner!!!

2011-12-18T12:53:00.002-06:00

The winner of the free e-book and a copy of any of my backlist is Jbrayweber. Email Jbrayweber at Christie (at) christie(-)craig(.)com

Contest! Contest! Contest!

2011-12-17T00:01:00.003-06:00

Today, Susan Muller is giving away an e-copy of her book, The Secret on Forest Bend. And to make it even better, I’m also giving the winner a copy of any of my backlist. So make sure you leave a comment to be entered to win a copy of Susan’s and any of my books. It can be my romances or my YAs.

I have a treat for you guys today. I would like to introduce you to a dear friend and another writer who’s friendship is proof of just how small our world has become. It’s also proof that when the universe wants you to meet someone, it will keep throwing you together until you finally connect.

Susan Muller is my walking buddy, who isn’t walking right now. (You’ll read more about that in her blog.) Susan and I met at my local chapter’s Romance Writers of America meeting. Well, that’s where I thought we met. Shortly later, she informed me that we’d met earlier. That we had waved and spoken while I was walking in her/my neighborhood. Cool, we lived in the same neighborhood. I had to apologize and told that when I walk, I’m in my own little world and seldom recognize anyone.

We shortly learned that she lived on the street back behind my house. However, little did we know at the time, we had other connections. I was in her backyard and peeked through her fence and said, “Damn! That’s my backyard.” We’d shared backyard fences for almost 20 years and didn’t know it. Yup, now we can put a ladder against the fence and have a conversation. We’ve actually passed manuscripts, oranges, crawfish, and fresh grown tomatoes over that fence. Ahh, but it gets even stranger. Because not too long after we started walking, she introduced me to her dog. Right then, I knew Susan’s version of how we first met was as wrong my had been. The woman, didn’t just live behind me, she’d been in my house. I’d saved her from a heartache and she didn’t even know it.

Years earlier, while I was walking, a black lap who looked just like my black lab--even had the gray snout and everything--came up to me on my walk. For a second, I thought it was my Jake. But he was a tad bigger than my ol’ boy. Nevertheless, the dog decided I was a sucker and he followed me home. Not wanting the animal to continue to the main road that had a lot of traffic, I took him into my house. I looked at Jake and the other dog side by side, and darn if other than a few extra pounds on her dog, the two dogs were identical. I called the number on the tag. The owner quickly came to pick up the dog. While I didn’t recognize Susan as the dog owner, I recognized her dog. So actually, our lives were connected even before we knew it. Who knew she was also a writer? Well, all I can say is that it’s a small world. And I’m glad after several times of having our paths cross, we finally took the message the universe was telling us and became friends. So here’s Susan, and a bit about her book.

*********

I’ve been thinking a lot about walking lately. Mostly because I can’t. Several weeks ago I developed a stress fracture in my foot. The doctor instructed me to stay off my feet and wear a lovely black boot with Velcro straps that cost as much as a pair of Jimmy Choos. The next week was my high school reunion. Show of hands here, how many think I wore the black boot to my reunion? Of course I didn’t. Which may be why I still can’t walk without limping.

But limping isn’t my problem, walking is. For years, I’ve worked out plot holes and writers block while walking my dog around the neighborhood. Buster is a 120 pound black lab, and he was well into middle age when I found him five years ago. At first we walked about forty-five minutes, but as he aged we cut it down to thirty minutes, then fifteen. The last time I took him around the block, I had to sit on the curb and let him rest.

Luckily, on one walk about a year and a half ago, I passed Christie, walking the other way. Shortly later, we’ve walked together four or five days a week. We walk twice as long and twice as far and I’m half as tired, because Christie can tell a good story. You knew that, right? After all, she writes three to four books a year. You’ve probably heard her mattress story, and the one where her husband set the lawnmower on fire. Those are just the stories she can tell in public. We brainstorm and bounce ideas off each other and she’s improved my writing 110%. Since I’ve been sitting with my foot propped up, my writing output has slowed to a trickle. I may never get this next book finished. I miss walking with Christie.

Buster’s way too old to go for power walks these days, but he does love a ride in the car. When Buster got too old to jump in the back of our Explorer, and too fat for us to lift him, my husband bought a smaller car. Oh, he’ll tell you that he bought the car for better gas mileage, but I’ve known the man for many years, and he bought it for the dog. Even with the smaller car, we have to back up to the curb and help Buster in.

In my novel The Secrets on Forest Bend, the hero, Adam, has a yellow cat named Rover. Rover was the terror of the neighborhood when he decided to adopt Adam seven years ago. He’s bigger than most dogs and twice as mean. Lately, Rover has developed diabetes and Adam must give him a shot twice a day, something that’s not always convenient. Adam’s a big, tough police detective, and he claims Rover is just his roommate, but you read the following excerpt and tell me, if this isn’t love, what is?

The sky was still dark when Adam rose on one elbow and nuzzled Jillian’s ear. “You’re going to hate me, but I have to go.” He nibbled her shoulder and felt himself come awake again.

She turned to face him, sleepy-eyed. “Go? Can’t you leave for work from here?”

How bad would it be if Rover missed one round of medication? He lifted the sheet and gazed at her body. Damn he wanted to stay longer, but if he didn’t leave soon he wouldn’t be able to stand up. “No. I have to give my cat a shot.”

*******

What about you? What’s the craziest thing you’ve ever done for an animal?

Check out more about Susan on her Web site: www.susancmuller.com.

And here’s here back cover blurb. It’s an excellent read, guys. So make sure you snag your own copy.

Another day . . . another dead body.

When Detective Adam Campbell learns that a WWII gun is connected to several murders he’s investigating, he hopes that tracking down the killer will be as easy as tracing the gun’s history. When he meets Jillian Whitmeyer, the last known owner of the weapon, the case becomes anything but simple.

Just because you can’t see it, doesn’t mean it isn’t real.

Adam soon learns that people who get close to Jillian have a bad habit of turning up dead. Jillian claims that the spirit of her sister, accidentally killed with that same gun, is responsible for the deaths. She warns Adam that he is likely to become the next victim. Adam’s been a lousy judge of women in the past and this one’s obviously a nut case. Or is she? How does a just-the-facts detective deal with a ghostly serial killer and the sexy-as-hell sister she won’t set free?

Self-Publishing – what works, what doesn't

2011-12-16T03:00:00.003-06:00

First off, I have to share some super exciting news… my latest self-published book FEARLESS IN HIGH HEELS hit #2 on the Barnes & Noble Bestseller list! I'm absolutely thrilled, as this is the greatest “bestseller” achievement I’ve ever had. You can bet that High Heels book #7 is totally in the works for next year now!

(P.S. The book will be available on December 26th in all other outlets, including Kindle and print versions! Be sure to sign up for my newsletter on my website as I'll be sending special offers to subscribers soon!)

Okay, now on to the real blog post…

For the last few posts I’ve been talking about self-publishing and what sort of numbers I’ve seen from this. So, today I want to talk about what I’ve done that’s worked (or not worked) to get those sales numbers!

1. The number one thing that I believe has helped my sales grow has been having a backlist of books. As I mentioned in my last post, when I had only a couple of short works available for sale, my sales were moderate – enough that I was interested in doing more – but they didn’t really explode until I had a backlist of several books available. I know this probably sounds a little discouraging to authors who only have one book ready to self-publish, but my advice in that situation is that you NOT spend a lot of time on promo. Instead, take all that time and put it into writing the next book. I guarantee it will go further toward getting you more sales.

But even if you only have one book out…

2. Make it look professional! I cannot stress enough how important hiring a proofread or editor is. Readers will not be more forgiving of self-published books having typos than they will of publisher produced ones. I’ve gotten an email from a reader before who claimed my book was “riddled with typos”. When I politely asked her if she could point them out, she pointed out… two. Two typos in the whole book. Which to me doesn’t sound too bad. But to a reader, that is a big deal! Even one is a big deal and says “amateur” to a reader. So make sure that you have someone to watch your back in this area, and make sure that they are good at what they do. Ask around for recommendations, and I would always ask a proofer to do a few sample pages for you first, so that you can be sure they are actually going to catch everything.

3. Disclose word count! If you’re writing a full length novel, and it is comparable to a print length (generally 80-100K ), you can get away with not telling reader the word count. But if you’re writing a novella, novelette, or short story, disclose your word count right in the product description. There are so many full length books being sold for $.99 now that readers sometimes feel cheated when they pay $.99 and then find out they’ve bought a short story. Or in other cases some readers have a different idea of what “short” is than the author. This is one place where bad reviews happen to me all the time – not for story issues, but because the reader wanted a longer piece. So definitely make sure that you give readers as much info up front about length as possible. And speaking of reviews…

4. Good reviews are like gold! Especially if you are a new author or only have one or two books available, reviews equal sales. Readers really do read them and really do judge a book by its star rating. I see sales plummet when my star ratings go down on my books. This is a tough area for most authors, because bad reviews will happen, no matter how good your book is, and there is nothing you can do about it. (Though, if you do get inappropriate reviews or spoiler reviews, you can report them and often BN or Amazon will remove them.) But you can do something about getting more good reviews! There are tons of bloggers out there that review self-published books now, and even the ones that don’t have large followings on their blogs will often agree to post their review on BN or Amazon when they write it. I would contact as many of these as possible! Especially reviewers that are just starting out or maybe don’t have huge followings yet, as they will be most likely to want to a) review you book well (because they want to develop good relationship with authors, right?) and b) have time to review books from newer authors. One thing I would NOT recommend doing is having all of your family members give you reviews. It becomes obvious quickly, and that can be a real turn off to readers.

5. Price your books right! Pricing is a really interesting issue. Some authors swear by the $.99 rule and others are flirting with $6 now. My experience with this is that I usually get more sales at $.99… but I make a lot more money at $3.99. My personal take on pricing is that if you start out too low, you have nowhere to go. I’d err on the side of being too high, as you can always lower your prices and readers won’t mind. If you start out at $.99 then suddenly decide you want to go to $3.99, readers are going to be a little less happy about that sort of change. I honestly think for a full length novel, $3.99-$5.99 is an appropriate price range. This is still lower than most published produced books, which is a nice discount for the reader, but not so low that it a) smells of desperation or b) cuts into your profits. I do regularly put my books on sale for a limited time at lower price points. But the purpose of that is to gain some visibility, and I generally end up losing money on those sales vs. what I could have been making at the $3.99 price.

For example: the first book in my High Heels series, SPYING IN HIGH HEELS, is the book that I put on sale the most, in order to hook readers into the series. I’ve sold almost 200,000 copies of that book alone. By contrast, the second book in my series, KILLER IN HIGH HEELS, is one that I almost never put on sale. It’s almost always priced at $3.99. I’ve sold roughly 50,000 copies of this book, but this book has made me at least three times as much as book #1 in terms of income.

Since I won’t be blogging again until after the holiday, Merry Christmas to all the Killers out there! I hope you all get exactly what you want for Christmas! (I’ve got my eye on a Kindle Fire, just in case Santa is listening…)

~ Trigger Happy Halliday

Shopping Anyone? Another Wild Thing Give Away

2011-12-13T03:49:00.001-06:00

By Robin 'Red Hot' Kaye

I hate to shop. I really do. The only store I enjoy going to is the Apple Store--I mean, it's like an FAO Schwarz for adults. Just the thought of going to the mall between Thanksgiving and President's Day is enough to make my ass twitch--after all my mother has been dragging me through stores and shopping malls all my life.

I had my first panic attack at Macy's in Herald Square. I walked very young, and my older sister didn't. My sister was in the stroller, and I was walking when my mom pushed us into the elevator at Macy's. It was winter, and back then all the men wore long wool coats and hats. I got stuffed into the corner, surrounded by wool and I didn't know where my mom was. I was maybe two years old at the time... I haven't liked crowded elevators since. Then there was that time mom had me sitting on the moving belt you're supposed to hold on to on the escalator. She must have reached for my sister and let go of me. I went flying over the side and landed on the jewelry case below. Yeah, I don't much care for escalators either...

I thought it was only fair that since I'm in the middle of my blog tour for Wild Thing, I'd torture my hero, Hunter Kincaid, a little more and send him out Christmas shopping.

All you have to do is comment to win one of two copies of Wild Thing! Be sure to write out your email address for me so I can let you know if you win.

I hope you enjoy the shopping trip. It's the closest I've come to the mall since the last time I saw my mother in October.

Hunter Kincaid’s definition of hell was going shopping with his sister, Karma. He liked shopping all right, as long as it was at Home Depot, REI, McU Sports, The Elephant’s Perch or just about any other home improvement or sporting good store. Yeah, there was nothing like shopping for building materials, crampons, climbing ropes, kayaks, rafts, hiking boots, skis, and mountain bike—all worth while things to buy.

Hunter turned to his sister, Karma and dodged a pack of teenagers. “Tell me again why we’re in the mall?”

Karma pushed past a family with strollers and ducked into a store called Hot Topic. “To buy your wife Christmas presents.”

“What more can Toni want? I already bought her a set of skis, bindings, boots, poles, bibs, a powder jacket, and a parka.”

Karma turned and rolled her eyes. “Toni doesn’t ski.”

“Yet. “ He smiled and rocked back on his heels. “She just needs the right equipment and a me—she’s married to the best ski instructor around.”

“Did you ever consider that maybe Toni doesn’t want to ski?”

Karma couldn’t be serious. Who wouldn’t want to ski? “Nah, Toni is going to love skiing. What’s not to love?”

“She’s still not at all comfortable being in the wilderness, and most ski resorts look like woods on mountains, remember?”

“Don’t be ridiculous. Toni’s plenty comfortable at home, and our home is on a mountain beside a ski resort.”

“Well, just in case she’s not overly excited about you forcing her to ski, I thought it might be helpful to diversify your gifts. Hot Topic is one of Toni’s favorite stores.”

Hunter looked around and had to admit the place looked like the inside of Toni’s closet. It was like Goth heaven. He shrugged. “Okay, what does she want? It looks as if she’s got most of the store at home already.” At least now he knew where she shopped, not that he’d ever want to join her. There were just some things couple shouldn’t do together. Shopping for girl stuff was one of them. He looked around and saw a half dozen of graphic T-shirts Toni already owned. When he spotted the one she was wearing the first time he laid eyes on her, he couldn’t help but smile.

He followed Karma into the shoe section where she picked up a pair of black stiletto boots that had to go above the knee. They were sexy as hell.

Karma tried them on over her tight jeans. “Toni’s been drooling over these for months.”

“You don’t think she’d wear them outside the bedroom do you?”

Karma shrugged and giggled. “You know Toni.”

“Yeah, that’s what I’m afraid of.” He rubbed his hand over his face and shook his head. “Okay, I’ll buy them.” He’d just have to make sure she never wore them in public. Toni had no idea how hot she looked, and he didn’t want anyone else knowing it either. Good thing he had ways of distracting her. “What else?”

Karma went around the store picking out hats, fingerless gloves, arm warmers, and stockings. God help him if Toni wore the fishnet stockings with the naughty-school-girl skirt Karma added to the pile, and those boots—he’d be a goner. He paid for the purchases and grabbed the bags. “Where to next?”

Karma slid her arm through his and headed in the opposite direction of where they were parked. Not a good sign. “Victoria Secret.”

“Kill me now.”

“I know for a fact you like Toni wearing nice lingerie.”

“Yeah, and I don’t even mind hand washing it. I just don’t want to buy it. Besides, the way I look at it, it’s more of a present for me than it is for her. Wouldn’t that be a little selfish of me? It would be like buying myself a Christmas present.”

Karma rolled her eyes. “Aw come on, big brother. Don’t tell me you’re afraid of a few scraps of satin and lace.”

“Not afraid, but damn, Karma. The last thing I want to do is shop for naughty lingerie with my little sister.”

“Time to put your big-boy boxers on Hunter and get over yourself.”

“I thought I did that when I bought the boots.”

Karma just chuckled and led him right into what he was sure was the bowls of hell.

So tell me, do you have a shopping phobia? Has anyone else taken a header off the belt of an old escalator and landed on a jewelry case? Am I the only one with a fear escalators and crowded Macy's elevators?

It's Beginning to Look a Lot Like....

2011-12-12T07:06:00.005-06:00

You know how the song goes. The big question is, are you ready for it?

I will admit to being partially ready. The house is looking good as I'm almost finished with Christmas decorations. I'd hoped to get an earlier start this year, but book deadlines and life put me off schedule. So now, I'll probably finish in time to start taking it all down. (sigh) Or maybe I'll just leave it up through winter. Hey, it is kinda pretty, and I did that one year when I was working a million hours a week as a contractor. Finally, my brother came over to my house in May and carried the entire tree, decorations and all, into the garage.

So first up today, I'm going to share a couple of decor picture, because it's so pretty with my signature turquoise and a great Christmas silver. Here's the living room - and yes, it's actually cold enough in Dallas to have a fire!

And this is the long counter that separates the kitchen from the living area/hallway.

And the final thought I'll leave you with today with a letter from Santa that I got in a random email. I figured you'd all like it.

Merry Christmas (or whatever you celebrate)!!!
Deadly DeLeon

E is for Extra Large?

2011-12-09T00:02:00.003-06:00

I was supposed to have a guest blogger today for my blogging maternity leave, but in my dusorganized state, I can't remember who'd signed up for today. Mea culpa. So you're stuck with me.

And I apologize for that, since this post may be somewhat less than coherent. You see, I'm tired. Ridiculously tired. And with good reason. I was discharged from the hospital a week ago today.

Yes, that's right, Killer Readers. I had my new baby boy last Monday (November 28)! I was actually supposed to have a scheduled c-section this past Monday (Dec 5), but the little man apparently takes after his big sis and decided to make his debut just under 2 weeks before his due date (which was supposed to be tomorrow, actually). Although he's nowhere near as impatient as his sister, since she chose to be born 6 weeks early. He stuck around in there a full 4 weeks longer.

(Speaking of his big sis...please wish her a happy birthday. She turns 2 today! Time flies!)

Anyway, even though I had a full month longer to plan and get things ready this time, invariably I ended up surprised and without anything done. Which was totally my fault, of course. I figured since I'd had a baby literally just 2 years ago (2 years ago today, actually!), there wasn't much I needed other than baby boy clothes. I had everything else -- carseat, crib, Pack n Play, bouncy seat, monitor, swing, etc.

Easy peasy. I was set.

What I didn't count on, however, was how much bigger my boobs would be this time. We're talking serious porn star range here. If I didn't know better, I'd think that the surgery I had last week included implants. Very, very large implants. If I can just lose this extra tummy fat I could probably do a centerfold in Playboy.

Yowzas!

I was totally caught off guard with this birth and hadn't even packed my bag yet. So I spent the next couple of days dictating a list of things for my husband to bring me from home. Of course, nursing bras were at the top of the list. But no biggie. He could just find them in my top dresser drawer.

Except they no longer fit. Like, not at ALL. I stopped nursing this past March and they fit me just fine then. They'd fit me all throughout the nearly 15 months I nursed my daughter. But not with my son. I was a 38 C then.

Not now.

My old nursing bras fit me while I was still in the hospital, but gradually became tighter and tighter shortly after I got home, until finally I couldn't take it any longer.

By Saturday night I was in sheer agony. What had once been a super comfy sleeping bra made from stretchy soft cotton had transformed overnight into a medieval torture device, binding me so tight I thought I would pass out. Corset? Pshaw. They have nothing on my old nursing bras.

So I took off the offending garment and was rewarded within a few seconds by two large wet spots on the front of my shirt. Niiiiiiice.

My mom offered to run out and get some new bras for me, but I couldn't even begin to guess what size I might be. No, I had to go to the store myself and try them on.

But I couldn't bear to strap myself back into that horrid contraption. But I also couldn't go out in public dripping, either.

So I came up with the brilliant solution of shoving a burp cloth under the front of my shirt. In my Percocet-ridden mind, it seemed ideal. It stopped the spreading dampness and provided camouflage from my enormous protruding nips. (I was afraid I was going to put someone's eye out with those things!)

I walked into the kitchen to grab a drink of water before heading out and was immediately greeted by the same question three different times from three different people (my mom, my dad, and my husband). What the heck was that under my shirt?

I proudly told them about my brilliant burp cloth idea. Fail. Even without hearing what each of the others had to say, Mom, Dad, and Mr. Brice all told me I looked like I was shoplifting. They begged me not to wear the burp cloth.

Fine. I put a jacket on over my t-shirt and kept my arms crossed tightly the entire time inside the store. (Needless to say, I brought along a stash of nursing pads in my purse so I wouldn't ruin the bras I was trying on.)

In the end, it was determined that I'm now a 38E. Mr. Brice is THRILLED.

Outlines: How I've Learned Not To Hate Them

2011-12-08T00:44:00.001-06:00

I've done a lot of book signings over the years. Different people in different places ask different questions, but the one question that always comes up is: "Do you write outlines for your books."

Outlines are funny things. I didn’t write one for Sex, Murder And A Double Latte but then why would I have? I started that book with the intention of just writing a short little story to help distract me from a difficult divorce (is there any other kind?). It wasn’t until I was half way through it that I decided to make it into a book and then I wrote out a general game plan as to how I wanted the story to go but I wouldn’t call it an outline.

The 2nd book I wrote (and my 3rd book published) was So Much For My Happy Ending. That was basically a highly fictionalized autobiography so I didn’t have to write an outline. I knew EXACTLY how that story went. I had already lived it. It poured out of my like a tidal wave of pent up emotion.

But when I got to Passion, Betrayal And Killer Highlights (3rd book written, 2nd published) I decided I was going to be über professional about it and wrote a detailed outline. Everything was planned out. And then I started actually writing the book. Guess what? The outline didn’t hold up. Or it would have held up if I had wanted to turn in a 200 page manuscript to my editor but I knew my editor would tell me that was too short. Mitch Albom can get away with writing a 200 page hardcover, I can’t and although I had planned out each chapter in the outline things were moving at a much faster pace than I had anticipated. So I threw the outline out and proceeded without it. I tried writing an outline for Obsession, Deceit And Really Dark Chocolate and although there was no problem with the length, its structure didn’t hold up once I tried to flesh it out in a manuscript so I threw that out too.

It wasn’t until I was ready to write Lust, Loathing And A Little Lip Gloss that it finally dawned on me what my problem was:

I hate writing outlines.

Hate, hate, hate it. It’s right up there with one of my least favorite things to do as a writer, perhaps second to the last round of edits when I’m checking for missed spelling errors and somebody else’s typos. But that said, just like checking for spelling errors, writing an outline can be an important task. They help to add structure to a book and can really help keep the pacing and action strong. But when I sit down at my computer knowing that I must start the process of creating a book by writing an outline I get an instant headache. It’s like telling a small child that he has to start his meal with brussel sprouts with only a vague promise that after he’s finished them he’ll get something better to eat. True, that means he’s saving the best for last but it might be hard getting the kid to the table. And when I think I have to start a writing project with an outline it really is hard to get me to the table. Once I’m there I rush through the chore neglecting details by metaphorically tossing them to the dogs (or rabbit...we are talking about vegetables here) or shoving them under my plate so I can hurry up and get to the good part.

But actually starting the book itself, introducing (or in the case of Sophie, reintroducing) myself to characters and a new storyline...well that’s my cocktail. I love that part. I realized that if I could just start with THAT I would be rushing to the table whenever it was time to start a new project.

So now I begin my books by writing about 15 pages without anything. Then I’ll stop long enough to write a 2 page synopsis which gives me a general direction. Once I get to 40 or 50 pages of manuscript that’s when I write an outline. I did this with both Lust, Loathing And A Little Black Dress and Vows, Vendettas & A Little Black Dress. By the time I’m done with those first few chapters I know who my characters are, how long it will take them to do the things I want them to do and I know how I want the story to go. Perhaps more importantly, I am always excited about what I’m writing by the time I’m done with those pages which makes putting together an outline seem like less of a chore. The promise of what’s to come after the brussel sprouts isn’t vague, it’s totally tangible and I’ll happily submit to the work of creating an outline in order to get to the main course.

I realize this approach won’t work for everyone but if you have a hard time sticking to outlines you might want to try it. If nothing else you’ll get to have a cocktail before your veggies.

Kyra "Fashionista Fatale" Davis

I Did It.

2011-12-07T04:30:00.000-06:00

I just got impatient. I couldn't wait to see what was under all that dark, red hair I'd had for so long. So, on a Saturday, I texted my hairdresser to ask what setting I should set the dog trimmer to - and she graciously offered to cut it off Sunday morning. At her house. In her pajamas. I got donuts and went home and was reading the paper as my kids woke up and did the cartoon double-take when they saw me. They didn't know I was going to do it, but hey! Donuts! (Okay, so I ate four.)

The next day, I went in to work. People who saw me before Thanksgiving break thought I'd come back with my chin-length, two tone hair. Several people thought I was a visitor and asked if I needed assistance.

I went to an alumni mixer last week. A lot of people there hadn't seen me in a while. It was in a bar with black lights. My head glowed like a blazing, white beacon. They only recognized me by my voice.

My friend Todd said I resemble a female Race Bannon. I guess before that, I looked like a female Dr. Benton Quest. At least I don't look like a female Bandit.

The big shock I guess is that people always knew to look for the tall redhead in the crowd. I've confused them. And that's awesome. Now, I just have to get used to the cartoon double-take I do when I pass a mirror.

The Assassin

My Christmas Confession

2011-12-06T03:30:00.004-06:00

Okay, I have a confession to make. And yeah, I know what you’re probably thinking. Saying that I have a confession to share makes it sound as though I’m about to confess to having buried a few (more) bodies in the compost heap in my backyard. But trust me, this confession is nothing bad—to the contrary, I think it’s fabulous news and I hope you will, too. So, what am I confessing? Only that my newest release is almost here, and I’m fifteen different shades of excited.

I hope you will be excited, too.

Okay, so enough teasing you. My latest release is called Murder, Mayhem and Mama, and it’s going live for Amazon’s Kindle and Barnes and Noble’s Nook on Tuesday, December 20^th. This book is really one of the “books of my heart,” and I’m so tickled that I get to share it with you. You see, MM&M is actually one of the four books I sold back in 2006 when I broke my long dry spell. Unfortunately, the company who bought the rights to publish my baby went under a short time later. Since I’d also sold my first humorous romantic suspense to Dorchester, and MM&M is a little, well, “different,” I shelved the book. Until now.

So what’s different about this book? Well, first let me tell you what’s the same. Murder, Mayhem and Mama has got the humor. For sure, it has a hot romance and a tough cop hero. It has a heroine, with a good heart who can be a tad sassy. You’re gonna find my forever-present pet in there, too, because I think our pets make us better humans. The plot has plenty of heart. Yup, you might shed a tear. And you can bet you’ll find plenty of suspense and action to keep you turning pages.

So what’s different? Well, Mama is different. Yeah, I know what you’re thinking—But Christie, you always have some whacky family member in your books so how is that different? Well, in this book, Mama is a little more than just whacky. Mostly because Mama is just a little bit dead. Okay, she’s more than a little bit. She’s 100% dead. But like all mamas, she feels it’s her responsibility to watch out for her daughter. And until she knows her daughter is going to be okay, Mama’s just not gonna take that big leap into the afterlife.

Here’s the cover and blurb for Murder, Mayhem and Mama:

Being a mama is hard. But the job's even tougher when you're dead.

Cali McKay's mama isn't ready to pass over to the "other side" yet. Her
unlucky-in-love daughter needs her now more than ever. Before Mama can
chain-smoke her way to heaven, she's gotta make sure Cali's deadbeat
ex-boyfriend doesn't get her daughter killed.

Grief Sucks. Love Heals.

Cali lost her mom to cancer. Detective Brit Lowell lost his partner to
murder. Now he's in the mood to take down some dirtbags and Cali's ex just
happens to be a dirtbag leaving a trail of dead bodies behind him. Can
Brit trust this beautiful woman to help take down her ex? Can Cali look
past this sexy cop's hard exterior to trust him with her heart? Can life
get any crazier when Mama starts meddling from the grave? Only one thing is
for sure--none of it will matter, unless they catch a killer before the
killer catches them.

Honestly, guys, this is the best Christmas gift I ever gave myself. And I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it.

Holiday Magic! by Diane Kelly

2011-12-05T00:01:00.008-06:00

This past Saturday, my husband, our kids, and I went to see our niece perform in the Nutcracker, a fun tradition we’ve carried on for five years now. Seeing our niece progress over the years from a tiny gingerbread girl wielding a wooden spoon, to an angel, a soldier, a Sugar Plum Fairy attendant, and now a party guest has been so fun. And, okay, I have to admit that the guy who danced in the Arabian coffee part was one hot latte – dark-skinned, muscular beyond belief, agile and athletically graceful. When my husband noticed me drooling, I told him it was because the dancer had a shaved head and I have a thing for bald guys (my husband being one himself). Good save, huh? I probably shouldn’t mention that my son renamed the show the “Buttcracker” after noticing a male dancer’s tights lodged firmly between the cheeks of his derriere. (Yep, we’re a classy bunch.)

I love the theme of Holiday Magic in the story. The concept of a toy coming to life has been done over and over again in movies, but it’s one we never tire of - Pinocchio, Babes in Toyland, The Indian in the Cupboard, Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer, Small Soldiers, Toy Story, and even the Chuckie movies – yikes!

The idea got me thinking. If I could bring something in my house to life, what would it be?

We have a sculpture of a solider that my daughter made out of clear strapping tape in an art class. If he came to life, he’d be able to crack the nuts of any intruder who posed a threat to my house or family. Still, I’m not sure how I’d feel about having a machine gun and hand grenades in the house. My family takes enough risks eating my leftovers.

We have a miniature carved wood Tiki totem of a Rastafarian. If he came to life, he could entertain us with Bob Marley songs. But he’d probably grow ganja in my garden and smoke it on the patio. No sense risking the wrath of the homeowners association.

I have a figurine of St. Francis of Assisi that a friend gave me as a housewarming gift years ago. It would be great if he came to life. He’d walk the dogs for me, clean out the litter boxes, keep our critters fed and brushed. And he could play doorman for the dogs, who want in, out, in, no-wait-I-changed-my-mind-I-want-back out at least a hundred times an hour.

If you could bring something in your house to life, what would it be and why?

One person who posts a comment today will receive a SWAG bag of fun goodies for Diane Kelly's Death and Taxes series. Check back around 9:00 PM central time to see if you've won! Book #1 in the Death and Taxes series is in bookstores and available at online booksellers now. Books #2 and #3 are available for per-order now. Visit Diane at www.dianekelly.com.