The Story Behind the Story

Everyone wants to know the story behind the stories that we write. To be honest, probably only half of my stories have any real inspiration. Most of the time I stare at a blank screen until something congeals.

Characters sometimes have a little more to them, but not exactly. That’s because I use this person’s looks and that person’s personality. So by the time I’m done, it’s a jumbled mess.

People who knew my husband swear I write him into every hero. I don’t see how that is possible. But maybe I like certain types of males. I like a man who is intelligent. One who will hold a real conversation on things from metaphysics to how buttercups got their name or why political systems get corrupted. I also like a man who knows the difference between a screwdriver and a hammer and when to use each one. A man who can watch something and then do it. But I also like a man who can be tough as nails and totally gentle, sweet, kind, and loving. If he knows how to cook, clean, and do laundry, that’s even better. So maybe I do write my heroes to be somewhat like the man I married.

Heroines are a little different. I like strong but not overbearing. I think most women possess an inner strength. Even the shyest and timid women often have a very strong interior, probably because women are wired to protect and nurture their young.

Women come in all sizes, shapes and colors, and with their own idea of fashion…then and now. There are so many things to pull together when writing about women. So creating characters is fun.

Anyone is apt to become a character in my stories. I’ll see somebody and their hairstyle or hair color will catch my attention. Young or old, it doesn’t matter. It doesn’t matter if I see someone in person, on a screen, or on paper. And beauty…they don’t have to be beautiful. Very few people are beautiful, but most people are attractive. Most people have something about them that makes them attractive. Maybe it’s those little things that makes a person do a double take – that something that makes him or her stand out from everyone else.

I was watching and not watching a TV show at my daughter’s house. She always has the TV on. Anyway it was live cop show and the cop wasn’t what I would have called good looking. But he had the most beautiful blue eyes, mesmerizing blue eyes. But after watching this man for a few minutes, my brain has that big hunky guy firmly implanted in it and he’ll probably wind up as a hero in one of my stories. Lots of women love those big guys. Or at least, his eyes will make it into a story.

Think of some of the people you know or know of that don’t fit the norm for beauty. Barbra Streisand instantly comes to my mind. I’m certain James Brolin might differ on my opinion of her, but Barbra isn’t pretty. What is she? Extremely attractive! She’s taken her looks and learned how to make herself stand out. She’s got an incredible voice and a little chutzpah. Her very unusual looks and amazing talent made her famous. I think that’s a great thing.

There are very few ugly people in this world. Birth defects, disease, injuries, etc. often change the way people look. Yet, some of those who lack any sort of beauty seem to make up for it in personality. My mom’s best friend from the time they were little children was homely. Yet she was the most wonderful person that I knew. She was a very talented artist, and she was kindest, nicest person. When I was with her, I never once thought about the way she looked. When we accept people, appearance no longer matters.

The Internet has been a great equalizer. We’ve gotten to know people without ever meeting them or even seeing what they look like, except that is changing with selfies and posting pics. Today certain things are handled with surgery. One friend was born with six fingers on each hand. The extra fingers were immediately removed. Another friend was extremely cross-eyed. He recently underwent surgery to correct the problem. It’s made a huge difference in his appearance.

Thank goodness we can correct so many things today. But it wasn’t always that way. When I wrote A Husband for Matilda, I wrote a mail order bride, Mrs. Ketchem, into it. Most mail-order brides were women who had a difficult time finding a husband close to home.

They had a house full of children, mostly girls, and it was obvious that Mrs. Ketchem was producing more yarn than she could use. But what really impressed him was the house. He’d never seen a log cabin quite like this one.

“Did you build the house?” Zeke asked between mouthfuls.

“Ay, I did. I bought my own saw and cut the lumber.” Mr. Ketchem motioned to his wife. “We managed to do it together, but putting the roof on required help which I didn’t have. I built it on the ground and used ropes and a couple of oxen to get it up there.” He grabbed a child’s slate and drew a picture of the situation. “You planning on building one?”

“If I obtain the land I want, I might not have enough leftover for a house, but I’ll need one.”

“I’m from the Adirondack Mountains, and this area called to my heart. Bet you never heard of the Adirondack Mountains.”

“I know where they are. Tucked in the northern portion of the state of New York. Not far from Canada.” Zeke laughed. “I happened to like geography.”

“So did I. I was topographer with the railroad as they began to survey and make decisions as to where to put the tracks. I thought drawing maps would be exciting. I wanted to do something special with my life. Instead, I discovered I was bored.”

The man took another bite of food, chewed, and swallowed. “I came from a farm. We had apple and chestnut orchards to go along with our farm. We worked hard.”

“I know about that. I came from a farm outside of Philadelphia. My father would go into Philadelphia several times a week to sell produce.”

“I went all the way to California and as I came back, I knew this was where I wanted to be.”

“Were you already married?”

Mr. Ketchem shook his head and Mrs. Ketchem answered. “He wrote his mother and asked for a bride. I was twenty-two at the time and still not married.” She held up her hands. “Six fingers on each hand. No one wanted me. But my grandmother insisted that I write to Henry.

He said he didn’t care that I had extra fingers. He was more worried about my being able to move out here and if I could cook. He promised that he was a good man and would treat me well.”

Mr. Ketchem chuckled. “I don’t mind those extra fingers. She’s a hard working woman, and I couldn’t ask for a better or prettier wife.”

Zeke looked at the dark-haired woman with crystal blue eyes and porcelain white skin and smiled. He wouldn’t have called her pretty. He finished his meal and thanked both Ketchums several times before leaving for Homestead Canyon.

My Scifi Movie Buddy

From the time I was watching black-and-white Buck Rodgers features on my TV as a kid,  I have loved science fiction movies and television shows-wires and cheesy special effects and all.

My parents divorced when I was 10 years old and my brother was 5. My dad got us every other weekend. With the hours he had worked, he didn’t know how to entertain us for a whole weekend. So, between the ages of 10 and 18 I must have seen every movie that came out. All the Bond movies, from Connery to Moore. An all-day viewing of all the Planet of the Apes movies in a little Berkeley movie house. Every movie Woody Allen made. I don’t think there is a horror movie of the ’70s I missed. LOL

Then in 1977 something magical happened. Star Wars. My brother and I saw it 35 times that summer, sometimes staying until after the credits to watch the next showing. I’ve tried over the years to explain to my children what Star Wars meant to science fiction fans. The special effects were so well done that you didn’t notice the special effects. You could be wrapped up in the story without looking for wires or noticing it was a model of a spaceship. When the landspeeder swept over the sands of Tatooine, you believed. When Luke and Leia swung over that infinity drop on the Star Destroyer, you held your breath. George Lucas, Luke, Leia, Han, Chewbacca, C-3PO, and R2D2 transported us to a long, long time ago in a galaxy far, far away and we’ve stayed there for 40+ years.

This week, I went with my scifi movie buddy, my son, now almost 30 years old to see the latest episode, The Rise of Skywalker. I cried at every familiar face. I laughed at the creatures that only existed in the writers minds until they appeared as if by magic on the screen. I was once more swept away to that galaxy far, far away.

I wasn’t at the movies. I was on an adventure to save the galaxy!

 

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Jill James, romance writer and movie fan.

NaNo November, and Writing

Writing is hard. At least it’s hard for me. I love the flow of it, once I get there. I love going where the characters lead – especially when I don’t know that the path I’ve set them on is the right one.

Invariably (so far) I have to rewrite my first few chapters. Rarely am I right about what makes an amorphous story idea great at the beginning of the first draft.

Deadlines help. They help me get out of my head and just write. That’s when the magic happens. Words get written. Stories evolve.

I am a better writer when I write every day – even if what I’ve written is only one page. I don’t know why that’s true – maybe because the story stays alive inside me when i write each day.

However you write, whatever your process, it’s the writing and the resulting story that matter.

I’m thankful for NaNo. Not because I follow the rules, I don’t, but because it forces me to just sit and write.

Happy writing. Happy Thanksgiving

May your November be filled with joy, productivity, and writing (or reading or both).

Leigh

Running From Time

If there’s one thing I’m unable to manage, it’s the number of stories colliding inside my head.

Characters are always in competition. Hello, she says. Hello, he says. I’m next. Me, me, me! Tell my story.

Every writer I know has the same issues with characters. Whispers in the ear and knocking on the door, inside our heads, are the upside and downside of being a writer.
The upside is there’s always another character plying for story priority. This is a good thing.

The downside is time. Time is the enemy. Yes, the enemy.

Life takes over and there is nothing we can do about that, except to block time to write. A little here, a little there. Sometimes, if we’re lucky, many words pour onto blank pages.

A few years ago I committed to write fifty-thousand words in a month. Well, I did. But about half way through the manuscript, there wasn’t much rhyme or reason to the remainder of the story I undertook. Other stories became priority, so the story lingered on my computer gathering dust until I could find time to make some sense of the clutter.

I will admit to writing fifty-thousand words in a month was a spur of the moment decision. A big mistake without a fairly good outline. While I write many of my stories by seat-of-the -pants, either before I begin, or at some point during writing, I do re-evaluate the storyline. I have much work to do on this story.

Here is a scene from NOT MY OWN.
As an only child, and estranged from her father for nine years, Megan Phillips finds herself the administrator of her father’s estate. In order to acquire the vast estate, which she has no desire to attain, until she learns she must accept responsibility of her seven-year-old half-brother, Adam. News of Adam comes as a complete kick in the gut.

NOT MY OWN

Despite the sunlight’s warmth spider-webbing across the gray marble floor, Megan felt a chill cut to her bones. Death hung in the air. She smelled it. Felt it. Her senses alive with familiarity.

Each click of her heels inched her closer to the hissing respirator of room 407.
Megan pressed three fingers against her temples, hoping to rid herself of the blinding headache.

Accommodating the Vail attorney’s request, providing closure to a chain of unhappy incidents in her past was not what she’d had in mind. Still she’d come. Facing the man in the bed would be the hardest thing she’d done since her husband and son’s death.
Uncertain of his feelings, Megan moved into the room and stopped beside his bed. She knew his illness was terminal, but was unprepared for what she saw. It was all she could do to keep from crying.

She was stubborn, and couldn’t give him the satisfaction of seeing her tears. With a smile pasted on her face, she walked forward and braved the sight of her father again.
Her breath caught at the blue eyes that once tormented her, staring back glazed in impending death. Anger and resentment passed like a storm in the night over their nine years of separation.

He’d been a virile, yet vain man. The salt and peppered hair that he’d cherished had turned to alabaster.

Thin, yellowed skin folded into crevices of his skeletal form and stilled bony fingers, did little to satisfy her need for revenge. What did it matter that he’d not known she’d become successful in spite of him.

Megan recalled her mother’s words. ‘Time waits for no man. Savor every moment.’ There would be no more moments for her, nor her father. No more time to ease the pain of separation and the precious lifetime they’d spent apart.

A lump rose in her. She felt cheated of the time they’d lost. Had her stubbornness been worth what she knew now to be the last days, maybe hours of her father’s life?

***

 Bret sauntered through the suite’s adjoining room while Megan sat and stared out the hospital’s window. Snow piled high on the window’s ledge and swirled from the winds that had the temperature dropping at an alarming rate.

Unable to get the husky feminine voice out of his head since their phone conversation, he stared at the petite vision before him.

“Ms. Phillips?”

“Yes.” Megan turned. “Mr. Evans?” A shock of sandy hair that fell forward on bronzed skin caught her off guard.

“Bret. Bret Evans.” Bret smiled, immersed in the scent of her perfume. He reached to shake hands but closed his right hand over hers. From photos of her, he’d known she was beautiful but in person, was even more so.

“Please…call me Bret.”

“Thank you. Is it possible to speak with my father?” Bret noticed her eyes and saw a deep hurt inside.

“I’m sorry. Your father has slipped into a coma. If only you could have gotten here sooner.” Bret didn’t know how she felt, but from the look on her face, she was clearly stunned at her father’s condition. “He asked for you.”

Thomas had discussed that they weren’t particularly close and that led Bret to wonder about their estrangement. Something definitely was amiss in their relationship. Bret reached for his briefcase. “Can we talk?”

Megan glanced toward her father and nodded.

Bret rang for the nurse, then led Megan to the elevator and down to the coffee shop. The mirrored elevator gave Bret a perfect view of Megan’s face. She was definitely a beautiful woman.

“To sum it up, Ms. Phillips, your father retained me as your attorney, at least until his estate is settled. Which is quite large, I’m at liberty to say. I’ll act as your attorney until such time you deem no longer necessary.”

Bret waited and watched Megan, as a hint of pain etched her face. “What your father has requested will no doubt come as a complete surprise. There is a matter of great importance that must be taken care of before we can get on with executing the will. My apologies.”

She stared into his eyes. They reminded him of a stormy blue sea, and probably just as dangerous. Surprised that suddenly anger replaced her professional attitude, so much that he had mistakenly seen her as someone who might only think of money at a time like this.

“Mr. Evans. For the record, I’ve no intention of accepting anything from my father. I have no need for an attorney. I came here to appease my father and you, since you were both so insistent.”

“But…”

“Mr. Evans. Whatever monies there are, can be distributed between charities of your choice. How my father’s estate is closed is of no concern to me.”

“Perhaps you’ll experience a change of heart after hearing provisions of the will.” Bret looked as though he’d tried to read her mind, but she’d thrown a wall around her.

“You’re the only person he trusts.”

“I have no reason to believe that line, since he knew nothing about my way of life the past nine years, but if I’m to get this over with, I’ll play along. Tell me. What is this I’m supposed to be so honored with?”

“I’m not sure if you were aware your father had remarried. From the marriage there is a child…a seven-year-old boy. His name is Adam. Adam Phillips.”

Megan’s eyes flickered. “So there’s a child. A brother.” She took a deep breath. “A child my father didn’t even bother to tell me existed.”

Bret ignored Megan’s comment and continued. “Adam is a well mannered, bright child for his age. He loves his father deeply and hasn’t a clue of how to deal with his grief. His mother abandoned him when he was a year old. So, you see the child has no one else which to turn.”

***

Suddenly the sound of Bret’s voice and his demeanor, made Megan nervous. She rose from her seat at the table and walked to the door, intending to end their conversation. But against her better judgment, the child, Adam, her brother, changed her mind.
She made here way back to their table.

Megan sighed and folded her hands on the table. “I’m terribly sorry. I had no way of knowing.” Why was he talking of this child when all she wanted was to get out of here?

“Look, Ms. Phillips.” Bret stuffed his hands in his pockets, stared out over the coffee shop and continued. “Please, may I call you Megan?”

The conversation wasn’t going in the direction she’d hoped. This was not good. She couldn’t shake the uneasiness.

“If you wish.”

“There’s no way to tell you except to ask you outright. Adam is in need of a mother. It’s pertinent we go before the judge before Thomas passes. Not that it’s impossible afterward, but the procedure is more simple beforehand.”

Megan gasped. “What does Adam have to do with me? Surely his mother can be found or there is another family option.”

“Well, you are his sister. And according to your father’s wishes, he’s chosen you, and only you, to care for his son.”

“Quite astounding for a man who hasn’t bothered to call, write or acknowledge the fact that I’m alive—in over nine years. I’m sure you know he disowned me when my mother died.”

“We talked, yes.” Bret stared over at her. “He had a change of heart.”

“He makes certain decisions when the situation benefits him.” She could almost hear her father talking to Bret. “Look. I was young and full of ideas for my own future. Not one he’d built for himself. He was never there for me, and now in death he wants to rule my life? I’m sorry. I can’t do it. I won’t. It’s impossible to mother a child I don’t even know. Besides, I know nothing of raising a child who may or may not want me around. Surely there are other family members.”

“None your father wanted to pursue. Adam’s grandparents could assume responsibility for the boy, but…”

“Well, then. You have your answer, don’t you?”

“Not quite. You see, they haven’t seen Adam since he was a year old. There were objections from his wife’s parents. Thomas was twenty years older than Adam’s mother and her parents grew bitter when she’d married him without their approval. Your father has no desire for his only son to be reared by the aging grandparents. Who, by the way, have had no contact with Adam since his mother left.”

“Is locating the mother out of the question? How do you know the grandparents wouldn’t jump at the chance to raise their grandson?”

“They don’t care about him. If they did, they’d have made provisions to visit him before now. No. The grandparents are not an option.”

“As I said. The child isn’t my problem…or my responsibility. At least they were aware of his birth, so the responsibility stands with them. Now if there isn’t anything else I can do for you, I’d like to get back home as soon as possible. You need to search for the boy’s family.”

“How can I help you reconsider?” Bret spread his hands on the table. “Perhaps you’d meet with me at Thomas’s home this afternoon?”

“And why would I do that? We have nothing else to discuss.”

Megan knew how her father worked and saw that Bret suffered at her father’s hand in not making the custody case easy. Why hadn’t Bret suggested he talk to Megan himself? Explain it all to her. Before, it was too late. Maybe he had, but now—it was too late.

Comatose men tell no stories.

“Adam is looking forward to meeting you, Megan. He’ll be home from school at 3:30.”

“So Adam knows about me? This is heartless. Why wasn’t I told about Adam when you first called?”

But, she knew. She wouldn’t have come. Would’ve refused to come.
Megan’s temple’s throbbed while her insides shook violently from learning she had family in this manner. She wasn’t so sure she wouldn’t crumble under pressure, but stood firm in her belief that family always came first. She was strong and would remain so…if possible.

Adam was her brother, whether she wanted one or not.

 

I wish you Butterflies, Music, and most of all…Love.

If You’re Lucky

In a small town, on a hill behind our house, under an old oak tree…

That’s where my love of reading began.

I’d gotten in trouble more times than I care to admit for hiding away with a sketch book and pencils, or borrowed books from the library.

Every time I walked through the library doors, my breath came a bit quicker. While gazing at the rows and rows of bulging bookshelves, I imagined things I could do,  the places I would go. Characters I would meet and stories to discover.

So many books yet to enjoy! A part of Heaven was within reach. I could go anywhere I wanted and be anyone I wanted.

Life couldn’t get any better.

But it did.

I fell in love with storytelling.

Little did I know how much time and effort it took to write. So many times I wanted to give up and simply live a normal life. No more lying awake at night with characters dancing, and yes sometimes nagging, in my head half the night.

But I didn’t give up, the characters wouldn’t let me anyway, and couldn’t be more pleased with my decision.

Most any writer will tell you there are plus and minuses to the life of a writer. You just have to reach out and grab inspiration whenever and wherever it strikes.

Tell your story, and if you’re lucky, readers will catch the magic.

Until next time…I wish you Butterflies, Music and most of all…Love.

It’s Time for a Divorce

Divorce? Yes! The time has come. The relationship has ended. There’s nothing left of what was once wonderful and beautiful. It’s over.

As an author, there comes a time when we must divorce our characters. It’s tough. We don’t want to do it. There’s all this emotional energy that has gone into them. Alas, we must leave them, fall in love with someone else, and write their story. No longer can we allow those characters to invade our sleep. They must leave. Once they are gone, we can still look back fondly on them and remember the way they were. Stolen kisses, passionate feelings, the quirky little things that they did.

Sound insane? Not at all. Authors must climb into their characters. They become them. I think within the romance genre the emotional connection is extreme. Writing can be emotionally draining. To write it we must feel it and than means feeling the pain, frustration, anger and all the negative things along with the thrill, excitement, and the love. It’s a roller coaster ride of highs and lows.

So as the edit process begins, the author has to pull away from the characters in order to look at the whole story. It’s important to become detached and remain unbiased. We must see them as our readers see them. We must see where we’ve failed to say what the character really is feeling and not let it slide with what we thought we said. Furthermore, when a manuscript comes back from an editor, we often discover that sometimes that character has totally failed to be that sexy wonderful guy and instead is a brazen, overly cocky mess that must be reined in and quickly repaired. Or his arms must have been made of very stretchy rubber for we left him in the living room yet he’s managing to open the refrigerator.

So we must divorce them by the time edits are done. Edits is discovering that the honeymoon has ended. And once a manuscript is sent for publication, we must be able to look back with only fond memories of what once was.  Most of us are monogamous. That means we need to sweep away the old so that we can embrace the new characters and fall in love again.

I’m in the process of divorcing myself from my Christmas story characters. I flipped the tables this time and created a heroine who has the power to make or break the top CEOs. But maybe the real heroine of this story is under the the age of twelve months. She doesn’t care about money and has no clue what it is. Her needs are simple and she loves everyone. Her hello-world attitude separates the wheat from the chuff as fast as a dirty diaper.

I know the day isn’t too far away that I will forever turn my back to these Christmas characters and give them away to my readers. The divorce has already begun – the separation agreement is in place. I’m looking at them from a distance. They are in edits.

When a review comes in that says the reader didn’t want it to end, I know why. The reader fell in love, too. To close a book, be it paper or electronic and end the relationship always hurts. The keeper shelf is a little like keeping that faded photo from the dance or whatever event from so many years ago. Maybe you didn’t marry him, but your heart will never forget.

It’s time for me to move on. I already know who I will become and maybe she’s a little more like me. Until then, there’s nothing like a book boyfriend. (Even if I’ve created him!)

Out Of The Mist – Take My Breath Away

Last week at the lake proved, restful, uplifting and productive, both for my soul and for my writing.

Uplifting because, Mother Nature provided spectacular images of her splendor. One evening when I stepped out on the deck, the sight took my breath.

While I snapped away, my phone rang, and the sunset changed rapidly, from the above photo to the one below.

We all know how loud ducks are, and while they continued to quack, they became my alarm clock the next morning. This misty scene is what welcomed me.

I couldn’t get all the ducks in the photo, but I counted at least forty-five, all in various situations. The ducks and haze reminded me of writing.

While many characters remain just out of sight, they still have a part in bringing a storyline together. Some characters are nothing more than author walk-ons, whether it’s lending author mood setting or background information. The reader never sees them, but somehow they play a part of character action. Maybe it’s why one character bites her nails and another character would never be caught dead biting hers.

When a story isn’t coming together, the author can’t see through the haze. It’s mind-boggling. It’s frustrating. When the mist finally lifts, the author writes furiously to jot down the next scene that plays out. At times the scene works, other times it doesn’t, but out of the mist comes light. And through light, we see clearly, at least clearly enough to work through a stalled scene and maybe through to the end. If not, there’s always another mist and a lifting of the haze that releases our muse.

What are your thoughts on looking through the mist? I’d love hearing from you!

Thanks for joining us and reading!

My books are available at Barnes & Noble, Amazon, Kobo, Apple and Smashwords.
You can find links on my website for all My Books

What’s in a Name Anyway? By Stephanie Queen

Myren, my chauffeur, will tell you names aren’t important, but I disagree (he isn’t particularly fond of his name, so it’s a sour grapes thing with him and probably why he goes by some other crazy nickname which I can’t remember). That’s my big problem with names: I have trouble remembering them. I seem to have an impenetrable block. You would think my biggest headache is when I’m in a room full of new people trying to keep track of names, but no. At least then I have faces to go by.

No, my biggest name-headache is when I have a book full of characters. I have trouble remembering their names. Heck, I have trouble coming up with their names. I start using place markers, like Mr. X (thus the Name That Character Contest) and when there’s yet another character introduced I have to call them Mr. Y. You get the picture. I’ve gone through quite a bit of the alphabet while writing a book this way before I throw up my hands and give into the need to come up with the actual names.

Once I give into the challenge of coming up with character names,  I create a cheat sheet  of course. Then I go on line and browse names. They have to be good ones, meaningful and appropriate. At least that’s what I look for from my contest entries. The names I choose may be a bit more random. I have two rules.

• Rule one: I must be able to pronounce the name.
• Rule two: I can’t use the same first letter twice. (the exception here is if I ever write a book with more than 26 characters needing names. Then I probably will name one of them Mr. X.)

But I love memorable character names, the ones that fit and that you couldn’t imagine being anything else. One of my favorites is Jack Reacher, the main character in Lee Child’s thriller series. Love that name—suits the character. Few syllables. Uncomplicated. Blunt. Another character name I love is Scarlet O’Hara. Fiery and sexy. Earthy and unconventional.

What are your favorite character names that work?

NOTE: I’m officially inviting you to enter my Name That Character Contest to name the current Mr. X occupying the story world of my work-in-progress, Beachcomber Investigations. It’s available for pre-order now.

Here’s the blurb for Beachcomber Investigations:

Ex-special ops legend Dane Blaise is desperate to recruit Shana George away from Scotland Yard to partner with him in his new venture, Beachcomber Investigations. She has impressive skills and if he’s honest, he needs her to keep him grounded. But most of all, Dane wants to keep Shana on the island of Martha’s Vineyard because he can’t get past his insane longing for her.

Shana’s boss David Young forces her to decide on the spot when he assigns an important case to Beachcomber Investigations. She chooses to partner with Dane, going with her gut–or more accurately her heart–rather than her brains. They may be good partners in crime-fighting, but they are all wrong for each other in every other way possible. He’s soulless and lost and likely has more wounds from his past than the bullet and knife scars scorching his body. But she’s crazy. About him.

Their big assignment is to protect Dane’s old special ops buddy, Acer. They need to find whoever paid a sniper to take a shot at Acer–before the sniper takes another shot and doesn’t miss.

Dane and Shana need to be on top of their game to keep Acer alive, and not on top of each other. But each of them is secretly worried whether that’s possible–and worried about what will happen if it’s not.

Pre-Order at Amazon

Wedding Season Sale & Giveaway

Now, that June has arrived, Wedding Season has begun. We will all be invited to or hear about this wedding or that, as new couples take a leap of faith and promise to share their lives together.

I love just about everything involved with weddings. Every aspect has the chance to be creative and set a tone for a couples entire day. I could say it sets the tone for their life together, but that seems dramatic. Unless of course, you find yourself fighting and disagreeing on wedding day details, then maybe some further consideration should be taken into a lifelong commitment. 😛

From high budget to backyard vow exchanges, the day can be special and beautiful for everyone. I have no plans to get married again, but if I ever did I have watched enough bridal TV to know what I would want in a wedding; from the gown to the table centerpieces I have a clear picture. I could plan a wedding in no time. Hmmmm….maybe I can have a wedding without the actual marriage, LOL!

All joking aside, weddings are a beautiful moment in time where two love birds ask you to sit in witness of their life and commitment to one another. What an amazing concept and beautiful moment for the couple and their guests. In my newest release with, Forever Red Publishing, I took a few friends, turned some of them into lovers and some of them into combatants and sent them to a couple of weddings to see how guests behave when they are more focused on their own love stories than the bride and groom.

Writing these books was so much fun, because even though they are novellas, I told each couples story from both POV’s and really got to care and love them (Thad is my fav) a little more each book. There is some overlap between the books, which were originally sold separately, because I am telling one couples story from each side. I hope that you will pick up a copy and get to know Cassie, Dan, Thad, and Brianna. They will make you fall for them this Wedding Season, as they fall for each other. My publisher has placed the entire set on sale for ONLY #99cents, until June 15th, 2015 – no better time to get a copy, as it’s normally $3.50. (each book is still available separately, for 99cents each)

There is also a BONUS STORY in this set, detailing how Cassie and Thad met and became an exception to the rule that men and women can’t be friends. Thad is a rake, albeit and honest and kind one, so it does seem odd that he would have a female best friend. But, once you meet them you will see how amazing their friendship and love for one another truly is…I adore their friendship, it might be my favorite relationship in the series!

We would love to hear about your favorite fictional wedding, whether it be a book or a movie; maybe Four Weddings and a Funeral or My Best Friend’s Wedding. Leave a comment with your favorite wedding tale and why you love it so much to be entered to win an eBook copy of my, One Day at a Wedding Series. This giveaway will stay open until June 10th and a winner will be randomly selected and sent their copy, via email, within a few days! 🙂

One Day at a Wedding Buy Links:

Amazon: http://ow.ly/L0EbN

 

Kobo: http://ow.ly/L0Eai

 

Barnes & Noble: http://ow.ly/L0E7n

 

iTunes: http://ow.ly/L0E8C

Wishing you well, in fiction and real life,

Kelly Rae

http://www.kellyraebooks.com

http://www.facebook.com/kellyraebooks

@kellyraebooks

A Balanced Working Parent, Ugh! – Giveaway!l

Triton Playing Sax

Being a mom is my most important job. Everything else and everyone else, comes second. I figure in about a decade I will have a life of my own, LOL! 🙂

Some days this clear-cut statement is harder to navigate that others – I need to work to take care of my child, but I also need to be there for him. And so the balancing act goes like this:

Last Friday I was scheduled to host a Facebook event on Hooks & Books page. Facebook events are fun and a great opportunity to meet and visit with current and new readers. Before I was doing my own, they seemed pretty easy and not all that time-consuming, beyond the 1-2 hours an author was chatting with the group.

The reality is that they take prep work; you have to write the posts ahead of time (well I do), so they are easily accessed and posted in a timely manner to the page. You have to set aside those 1-2 hours with little interruption so you don’t miss anything and/or leave a comment by a valued reader without a like or comment. You have to arrange prizes, get links set up, look for memes or photos of celebs to chat about, some of us make our own memes which takes time, as well. Suddenly, that 1-2 hours is now 3-4 hours where you aren’t writing your new book. So, there is a commitment made. All marketing is time-consuming – writing isn’t just about writing these days. Sad, but true! 🙂

So, back to my event last week. When I set up the event, my calendar was clear. My son’s basketball practice was cancelled, for its usual Friday slot, and so I scheduled the event to discuss my One Day at a Wedding Series. Then my son was asked to move up to the Pep Band and play with the high school kids (along w/ a couple of 8th graders). My son, Triton, is only in 7th grader and picked up an instrument for the first time just this past September. So, it’s a BIG DEAL that he was asked to play in the Pep Band as a first year student. I am very proud of him. The problem…their first game was Friday the 30th.

What is a parent to do? There is some liberation in the fact that I am a writer and essentially I work for myself. I make my schedule. But, I also want to be a succesful writer, one who can be counted on to meet deadlines, show up at events and be available to readers. My first thought was okay; I will set up posts, schedule them, and just do the event from my mobile phone, at the basketball game, while I watch the band. I have actually had to do Facebook events from my iPhone before, due to rescheduled basketball practices or games. So, it’s possible. But my level of engagement is certainly not as high.

Then the mom in me kicked in and said, how great would it to be feeling really special and look up in the stands to make sure your mom is watching you and instead see her looking down at her phone? Not so great. Here is the dilemma for working parents, focus on work to take of the material needs (inc. basic food/water/shelter) AND focus on their emotional well-being. It a choice all parents make, all the time.

In this case I opted to reschedule my event, last-minute, which I felt bad for doing. In an effort to make amends I did offer a giveaway to the site and those that were interested. That giveaway went really well and I was happy to see such a nice response and interest in getting a free copy of my series One Day at a Wedding. Even better was the look of pride on my son’s face, as I watched him play in the high school band. Sitting there in the stands, watching him was the only place I wanted to be. People in our small town were all telling me how great he was and I got to video the band to send home to our family in California. It was a great night and my son was beaming. I sure would have hated to miss that.

It’s a balancing act and the reality is that sometimes we are going to have to pick work over time spent with the kids. It’s just the way the world works, now that we can all access work from home, at night and on the weekends. All parents have to make tough choices, no matter what your line of work is, we face the balance. I am glad that last friday I was able to pick watching a high school band. My kid was awesome.

**GIVEAWAY**

For a chance to win a copy of the first book in my One Day at a Wedding Series, Once Upon a Wedding, please leave a comment below about your most recent balancing act and a winner will be randomly chosen to win an eBook copy.

For more information about my books please take a moment to check out my website http://www.kellyraebooks.com and look me up on Facebook for news about this series, the paperback coming out soon and future work, http://www.facebook.com/kellyraebooks

Thank you for stopping by today, we always appreciate our readers who visit. Make sure to comment and good luck on winning a free eBook from us today. See you on my next post.

Wishing you well, in fiction and real life

Kelly Rae