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Drink Deep and Drink Oft, Yo Ho!

Jennifer_BrayWeber | May 15th, 2012

“Ah. Rum and a new flintlock. Brings a tear to me eye.” ~ Henri, The Siren’s Song

Pirates sure loved their liquor. Who could forget the Pirates of the Caribbean scene where Elizabeth Swann burn’s Jack’s stash on a deserted spit of land to signal a passing ship for help. Poor Jack was beside himself. Oh yes, pirates loved their sauce. Perhaps it was pirate Richard Haines who said it best with this sentiment. “A life without liberty is not worth living. But a life with liberty and no beer mug ain’t much better.” Hear! Hear!

As colorful as pirates were, both in fact and fiction, so were their choices of poison. They guzzled rum, beer, brandy, and wines.

But man needs water to survive. Fresh water, also known as sweet water, was a precious commodity because stagnant water often soured in their casks. Think – slime in the ice machine. Yuck! So to make the water more palatable, rum, beer, or wine was added. The mixture was called grog and was rationed out to crewmen daily.

Pirates were quite creative in their elixir concoctions, too.Untitled

Bumboo was an alcoholic beverage of rum, sugar, lemon and lime juices, and nutmeg. Drink this, mate, and you may stave off a bout of scurvy.

Arrack was made from fermented fruits, grain, and sugar cane. Toke was liquor made from fermented honey. I’m not entirely convinced that these drinks were sweet to taste.

Kill-Devil rum included booze, beer, and raw eggs. Eww!

Hangman’s Blood, a potent medley of various strong liquors, could knock even the most hardened fellow on his arse. It was probably best not to smoke while drinking this mixture for fear of igniting. Whoosh!

In The Siren’s Song, pirate Captain Thayer Drake’s rum drinking is one battle he can’t seem to win. Perhaps Gilly, the beautiful songstress he saved from drowning, will help him kick the habit. But not after one particularly exasperating evening with her. Instead, he hits the bottle harder than usual, stirring gunpowder into his rum. Yes, pirates did do this. Gunpowder contains saltpeter which was believed to deaden sexual desires. It was also thought to inspire courage and aggression before heading off into battle.

To read an excerpt of The Siren’s Song, click here.

Want more? Click here for your copy of The Siren’s Song.

As far as swilling goes, I think I’d fit in just fine with the pirate brethren. From rum and cola to the fruitier Jamaican Sunrise, I love rum drinks. What’s your favorite rum drink? Not a fan of rum? What is your adult beverage of choice?

Jennifer Bray-Weber hopes to one day live out her life as the island goddess she was meant to be somewhere in the Caribbean. Until then, she lives in her native state of Texas with her real life pillage-and-plunder husband and two spirited daughters. Catch up with her at www.jbrayweber.com.

Posted in Authors, Books, Excerpt | 22 Comments »

A Writer’s Desk

Ava_March | May 9th, 2012

I sat down to get to work and had that feeling something was due. A quick check of the Hello Kitty planner proved my ‘something’s due’ ESP was right on – “finalize Carina blog post”. Last month, I talked about card games (research) and the month prior about a scene in a book. So today I’ll veer into random-interesting territory and give you a look at a writer’s desk, or at least my desk.

1 – The Muses and a girl (Bella, Ryan and Jake). Originally, Ryan and Jake were propped up against the wall behind Pretty. My daughter decided they needed the pink couch and Bella’s company.

2 – Pretty. I named my laptop Pretty because it’s so shiny and pretty, and that’s the reason why I bought it. Hubby, who’s in IT, tried to steer me toward a more practical computer (all I do is use Word, Excel, surf the net, and dabble with Photoshop), but I ignored him and went for the prettiest laptop Bestbuy had to offer.

3 – The best cup ever. Seriously. The little sticker that said it didn’t sweat wasn’t lying. And it takes all evening for ice to melt. Best 12.99 I ever spent.

4 – Planner, magazines, and pile o’notebooks in various sizes. The magazines are good to flip through when I should be writing but am not in the mood to write, and the Hello Kitty planner keeps me on schedule. The notebooks…sometimes all it takes is picking up a pen to jumpstart the muse. I read an article once on how holding a pen hits acupressure points that simulate creativity, and I believe it. Love technology, love the delete key, but there are times when it takes putting pen to paper to get to the emotional heart of a scene.

What’s missing in the picture is my phone. It’s usually right next to Pretty, but I had to use the phone to take the picture. So if you imagine it there, in its turquoise and pink case (selected by kidlet), then you’ll have the complete picture of my writing desk.

I will add, the desk in the basement is a newer phenomenon. I used to write at a little table in the garage in front of the cars and under the cupboards. Very peaceful in the garage. But I had a couple incidents with the pitter-patter of little feet that sounded suspiciously like little furry critter feet, and I relocated to the basement.

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Two of London’s most notorious rakehells, Linus Radcliffe and Robert Anderson, are the best of friends. They share almost everything—clothes, servants, their homes, and even each other’s bed on occasion. The one thing they don’t share: lovers. For while Linus prefers men, Robert prefers women…except when it comes to Linus.

As another Season nears its end, Robert can’t ignore his growing jealousy. He hates watching Linus disappear from balls to dally with other men. Women are lovely, but Linus rouses feelings he’s never felt with another. Unwilling to share his gorgeous friend another night, Robert has a proposition for Linus.

A proposition Linus flatly refuses—but not for the reasons Robert thinks. Still, Robert won’t take no for an answer. He sets out to prove a thing or two to his best friend—yet will learn something about the heart himself.

Buy Link: Brook Street: Rogues

Brook Street: Thief (#1) – get the first book in the trilogy for $0.99 during May
Brook Street: Fortune Hunter (#2)

Ava March is an author of smoking hot M/M historical erotic romances. She loves writing in the Regency time period, where proper decorum is of the utmost importance, but where anything can happen behind closed doors.

Website ** Blog ** Goodreads ** Facebook ** Twitter

Posted in Authors, Behind the Scenes, Books, Carina Press | 13 Comments »

A Party Every Night

Bonnie_Dee | May 1st, 2012

In Summer Devon and Bonnie Dee’s collaboration, Serious Play, the bar featured in the story sounds like a party every night. Our heroine, Mary Scott, owns a theme bar called My Parents’ Basement that caters to the child in her clientele. The décor, music and games are reminiscent of casual parties of youth.

Enter the hero, Luke Bailey whose childhood was anything but innocent and wholesome. After five years in prison for a convenience store holdup, Luke just wants to regain a toehold in society and find a job—any job. He ends up working and living at Mary’s bar, where he’s captivated by his vibrant, fun-loving boss.

Sparks fly between this mismatched pair against the backdrop of game-playing, retro formal dances and other activities at Mary’s bar.

My Parents’ Basement sounds like a fun place to hang out, but in real life, anyone who’s worked as a bartender or waitress know that those can be pretty demanding jobs.

Summer says: I lasted about a month as a real waitress in a real restaurant. The sheer energy required to carry those heavy trays, keep track of orders and put up with unpleasant people was almost enough to make me say goodbye. When a couple split without paying and I learned I had to cover their bill, I was done. Then I moved to Boston and got a part-time job in a bar. I lasted three years working as a waitress and occasional bartender. The place was seedy and smelled like smoke and old beer and so did I at the end of the night. It was one of the best jobs I’ve had. I loved the regulars and they kept me safe on the days and very occasional nights I worked alone. Every Thursday night was rugby night and a huge number of students showed up. The place was packed from about seven until closing. Why that bar? Why Thursday? I still have no clue. I only know that for years, the word Thursday would bring back memories of sticky change weighing down my apron and trying to wedge myself and my drink tray through crowds of screeching people. That’s my strongest memory–even after some other sucker had to act as waitress on Thursdays and I got to draw the pitchers and mix drinks.

Bonnie says: I worked as a waitress one summer during college. It wasn’t even at a restaurant but at a local Elk’s club a few nights a week. I was horrible at it. I have no social skills so I sucked at flirting with the middle aged men which was apparently an expected part of the job. Even though the menu was limited, since this was a club and not a restaurant, I couldn’t keep things straight—especially drink orders. I didn’t last the summer in what should’ve been a pretty cushy job with good tips. I “quit” when I learned through the grapevine I was about to be let go.

We’d like to hear about your experiences as a waiter or bartender for those of you who’ve held such a job. If you haven’t, then share a funny, or annoying, story about your experience with wait staff at restaurants. We’d love to hear from you.

Excerpt from Serious Play.

She looked down at the folder in her hands—his life reduced to a handful of facts, all of them bad—and he was certain he’d lost her. Why would she hire him? He wouldn’t if it was his bar. Then she lifted her gaze to meet his and for a second his heart stuttered. Her eyes were beautiful, wide and framed by dark lashes that enhanced the blue.

“I know what’s it’s like to be at a point in your life when no one has faith in you and maybe you’ve lost faith in yourself.” Her voice was kind but not condescending. “I’m not suggesting I know what it feels like to be fresh out of prison, but I’ve had my own hurdles.”

She gestured at the room around them. “I didn’t come by this easily. I couldn’t get backing. No bank would take my business plan seriously and my family thought I was naive to try such a venture. I got no support from them. But here it is—real at last, and successful.”

Luke looked around at the comfortable mismatched furniture grouped around squares of carpeting on a concrete floor, local band posters on the walls, tables and chairs with shelves of board games placed nearby. The place really did look like somebody’s basement rec room, casual, unpretentious and inviting.

“It seems really nice,” he said. “A good place to unwind.”

Mary smiled again and sunshine flooded the dimly lit bar. “Thank you. How about you start in two days?”

“I really appreciate this opportunity.” He paused, wondering how to bring up the living arrangement. “Ms. Horton said you might be willing to rent me space here. A room…?”

Mary Scott’s face was transparent. He saw the doubt chase across her eyes like clouds over the sun. She was regretting her rash offer of having a convicted felon live in her place of business. But she blinked and smiled. “I did say that. It’s only a spare storeroom but there’s space enough for a single bed and dresser. You can use the microwave and fridge in the bar’s kitchen and clean up in the restroom. I live in the apartment above the bar so I have no better rooms to offer you. I can show the storeroom to you. It’s really small so I don’t know if it will do…”

“I don’t care how small it is, I’d be happy to have it. My year at the halfway house is about up, then I’ll have to find an apartment.” Could he sound more pathetic? He was trash swirling around a storm drain.

A slight frown puckered Mary Scott’s perfectly arched eyebrows. “The room’s yours then. You can move in and start in a couple of days if you want.” She rose and extended her hand, her smooth palm sliding against Luke’s, gave a firm pump then let go. It had been so long since he’d shaken anyone’s hand, let alone a woman’s, that he’d forgotten how good the simple contact felt.

“Thanks again for the job. I really appreciate it.” Luke picked up his jacket and headed for the door, feeling her eyes on him. He wanted to look back at her but waited until he was outside, then glanced sideways through the window.

Mary Scott stood where he’d left her and she was watching him leave, probably regretting her decision. She pushed back her honey-blond-streaked brown hair then bent to the table to pick up the cups of coffee neither of them had drunk.

Luke lost sight of her as he passed the window and walked down the crowded sidewalk. He felt a tremor of an unfamiliar feeling. Not anxiety, dread or fear, although this had the same prickly edge. It took him a few seconds to identify the unsettling feeling in the pit of his stomach as anticipation—maybe mingled with a glimmer of hope.

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Posted in Authors, Books, Carina Press | 13 Comments »

Countdown for blastoff

Kay Keppler | May 1st, 2012

I’m lousy at math. When I’m at the supermarket, I can do a simple pennies-per-ounce cost evaluation, but that’s about it. An accountant does my taxes, I don’t balance my checkbook, and I don’t do Sudoku. Where’s the fun if there’s no words?

So whatever possessed me to put numbers into Zero Gravity Outcasts, I don’t know. Maybe I thought the math would be simple enough. If there’s 10 warships threatening the peace conference, and 4 leave to fight my heroine, and she disables 2 of those, then how many warships are left?

“I think the numbers are wrong,” came the note from my fabulous editor, Lynne Anderson. “How many warships end up at the peace conference?”

Um, there were 10. Take away 4. Six are left.

“Except on page 15 it says 8. Right?”

Well, yes, it does say 8. I need those odds to be overwhelming! Readers must be worried! I need 8 warships threatening the peace conference!

“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” Lynne says. “So what happened to the other 2 warships?”

Okay, reasonable question, what did happen to those other 2 warships? Perhaps they needed to have an extrasensory outer-space tune-up and oil change. On their way to the fabulous Macy’s one-day clearance sale. Because people just had to get those fringed, pink leather boots.

“Maybe the heroine disables four warships,” Lynne says cheerfully.

Yeah, the heroine doesn’t have any weapons. Disabling four warships would be tough, even for those superheroine-type people who can make nuclear bombs from paper clips, which my heroine makes no claims to be able to do. Although she’s handy. But nuclear-bombs-from-paper-clips handy, no.

“Actually, you don’t really say exactly how many warships start out threatening the peace conference,” Lynne says. “Maybe there’s just 8 to begin with? And then…”

I could see that my math problems were transferring to Lynne. Not good.

“How about this?” Lynne says. She’s sounding desperate, but I know she’s better at math than I am. I see a solution coming!

“There’s 10 warships threatening the peace conference,” she says. “Four leave to fight the heroine. She disables 2. The other 2—”

“Go back to the peace conference!” we exclaim simultaneously.

The warships probably would have had more fun going to the Macy’s one-day clearance sale than getting shot at in the battle at the peace conference. On the other hand, this way they didn’t have to do any math figuring out what 35 percent more off the last 25 percent markdown was, either. Although those fringed, pink leather boots would have been worth the effort. At any price.

And next time, there’s going to be 10 warships threatening the peace conference, and they’re all going to stay put. Because only a dope messes with outer space math.

(And a final note to readers: this story is true, but I’m sure the numbers are way, way off.)

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Posted in Authors, Books, Carina Press | 3 Comments »

What Level of Risk Will You Accept?

Natalie_Damschroder | April 18th, 2012

I always struggle to find blog topics, but as I was getting ready to face this blank page, I thought about my title (Acceptable Risks) and from there it was pretty easy. Risks. Acceptability. Duh. :)

We all take risks every day of our lives. We run across a busy street, hoping we’ve timed it correctly and the driver of the car bearing down on us isn’t adjusting his radio. We sniff the week-old ham salad, shrug, and make a sandwich. We step into the shower, or answer the phone, or buy something on the Internet. Most of us find those acceptable, right?

How about some bigger ones? Telling someone you care about them is a pretty big risk. I remember, back in college, it was near the end of a summer internship at a nature center. I’d been sharing a house with a couple of brothers and two other women. We were sitting around a fire outside, and I said something like, “I believe in telling people how you feel about them.” Dave got this panicked look on his face, until I laughed and said, “Not like that!” I knew I’d probably never see him again and wanted him to know how much I’d enjoyed working with him.

But telling someone you care about them as more than a friend is a much bigger risk, especially if you’re not leaving forever.

My biggest risk recently was two weeks ago, when I had LASIK surgery. I’d considered it for years. I went to my first seminar in 1999. Number Two was only a few months old. I still had pregnancy and breastfeeding vision fluctuations, so I wasn’t eligible for the surgery at that time. Convenient! I was a little freaked by the blade slicing the cornea flap, and the brush constantly renewing the moisture on the eyeball (they don’t do that anymore).

So when my mother died in 2003 and left me a small life insurance payout, I decided it was better to buy a laptop and pay some bills than to get my eyeballs sliced. I mean, I make my living with my eyes! The risks, even back then, were so minimal. But I couldn’t overcome my fear.

I’m not sure why I decided, a few months ago, that the risks were acceptable. I told my husband we should get LASIK so we could stop paying for contacts, glasses, and exams. He said “You first.” So I went for it! I went through six weeks of glasses hell (I wore rigid gas permeable contacts, which mold the cornea more than soft ones do, and I had to be out of them for that long). I went through hours and hours of tests and measurements. And last Thursday, I did it! (I put full details on my blog here if anyone is curious.)

The payoff has been tremendous. I’m writing this four days after my procedure and my eyesight is fantastic. I ceremoniously chucked my contacts and donated my glasses to the Lion’s Club. I bought new sunglasses, and have an intimate relationship with artificial tears. :) And I am so. freaking. happy.

What about you? What kind of physical or emotional risks have you taken lately? Were they worth it? What level of risk would you find unacceptable? (I have swag! Leave your e-mail in the comments or e-mail me at natalie AT nataliedamschroder DOT com and I’ll mail you a little something! [While supplies last.])

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Buy Now

When security expert Jason Templeton’s team is ambushed while protecting a weapons manufacturer vital to U.S. interests, he risks his life to save the man’s daughter…and loses. Unbeknownst to Jason, his mentor had been funding experimental medical procedures after losing his young wife. Using the untested drugs, Jason is brought back to life, stronger and faster than before, but also vulnerable in new ways. He’s determined to find the traitor in their midst, who is after the miracle drug.

That means protecting the brilliant scientist Lark Madrassa. Their attraction and compatibility are undeniable, but Jason tries to deny his growing feelings for her, thinking he is too damaged. When Lark’s father is kidnapped they have to rely on each other in a dangerous plot to uncover the double agent. Before, Jason always accepted the risks—but what about when the life of the woman he loves is on the line?

4 stars from RT Book Reviews!

“Non-stop action, pulse-elevating romance and a fast pace keep this book flowing smoothly. Damschroder definitely knows how to write one sexy, saucy, exhilarating tale.”—Diane Morasco

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

Text Copyright © 2012 by Natalie J. Damschroder. Cover Art Copyright © 2012 by Harlequin Enterprises Limited. Permission to reproduce text granted by Harlequin Books S.A. Cover art used by arrangement with Harlequin Enterprises Limited. All rights reserved. ® and ™ are trademarks owned by Harlequin Enterprises Limited or its affiliated companies, used under license.

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Posted in Authors | 6 Comments »

When you can’t afford to go there, pick up a book

Cat_Schield | April 17th, 2012

I love to travel.  There’s something thrilling about researching a destination.  Booking a flight.  Making lists of thing to bring, and at long last, packing the suitcase.  The sleepless night before.  The anticipation of adventures that await when I step out of the airplane.

These days I have to budget carefully and only manage to take a big trip every couple of years.  Between times, I indulge my yen for new locales by writing books set there.   Want to spend Christmas in Savannah but can’t afford it?  Read a book set there.  Before you know it, you’ll be strolling beneath the live oaks and exploring one of the antebellum mansions spared during Sherman’s March To The Sea back in 1864.

I discovered all sorts of interesting things about Savannah while writing His Secret Temptation.  For example, did you know that Jingle Bells was written there in  the 1850s?  I found that tidbit intriguing because when I think of Savannah, Georgia, snow is not the first thing that comes to my mind.

So, until the bank balance rises high enough that I can afford to go sailing in Greece or spend a week in New York City, I’ll be daydreaming about ancient temples, skyscrapers and the men and women who fall in love there.

Blurb:  Who’s the sexy blonde stranger sleeping in Simon Holcroft’s bed? The workaholic returns from a business trip to find someone stretched out on his sheets. Between the laundry basket at her side and the smell of orange cleaner, he deduces that the young woman is his maid—and resists the urge to kiss her awake.

But when his brother’s fiancé—his own ex—bursts in and strips down to her panties, Simon has to get her dressed and back where she belongs. So he introduces the maid as his fiancée. But his little white lie gets bigger, because now he has to bring his supposed bride-to-be to meet the whole family. One offer-she-can’t-refuse later, Simon has bought himself a temporary fiancée.

In debt up to her eyeballs and all alone for the holidays, how could struggling grad student Caroline Sampson not accept her gorgeous client’s fantasy proposal? But acting like she’s in love comes more easily than she ever expected.

His Secret Temptation is on sale now at Carina B&N and Amazon

Cat Schield lives in Minnesota with her daughter and their Burmese cats.  Winner of the Romance Writers of America 2010 Golden Heart® for series contemporary romance, when she’s not writing sexy, romantic stories for Carina Press and Harlequin Desire, she can be found sailing with friends on the St. Croix River or more exotic locales like the Caribbean and Europe.

You can find her at her website or on Twitter, Facebook or the Get Lost In A Story Blog

Posted in Authors, Books, Carina Press | 5 Comments »

It’s All in the Cards

Ava_March | April 11th, 2012

Card games were very popular during the Regency. Most everyone played them, and most games involved gambling of some sort. When I was mulling the idea for Brook Street: Fortune Hunter, I knew the heroes would meet over a game of cards at a ball.

The thing is I’m not much of a gambler or a card player. I’m rather good at go-fish, no-way and Uno, but that’s about the limit of my skills. But since the guys were destined to meet over cards, that meant a research dive was in order.

So in I dove into Regency card games, and came out with a game for the guys to play: Brag. 3-Card Brag, to be specific. It’s a predecessor to poker, and since I’d seen poker games on ESPN and therefore had some idea of how things went, I figured it wouldn’t be too difficult to learn.

And it’s not a difficult game. Of course, there’s a whole strategy to it, most of which eludes me, but the mechanics of the game aren’t complicated. Here are the basics:

-Decide on the stakes; initial bet (ante), min and max bets
-The dealer deals each player 3 cards
-The person to the left of the dealer starts the game. Similar to poker, you can stay in the game or fold. To stay, you must bet at least as much as the person before you.
-The game ends when either there is only one person left, or if there are only 2 players left, one can force a ‘see’ by doubling the bet. In which case, the other remaining player must show his or her cards. If the player who paid for the ‘see’ has a better hand, he or she shows their cards and wins the hand. Otherwise, the player can simply fold and the other player wins.
-In brag, the highest hand is a ‘prial’ or three of a kind, with three 3’s making the absolute best hand. After that, it’s similar to poker with flushes then pairs.

There you have it – a basic primer on how to play Brag. So what’s your favorite card game?

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Impoverished Julian Parker returns to London with one goal: marry an heiress. He’ll do whatever it takes, even if it means denying his desire for men. After all, with a fortune comes happiness and social acceptance—which have eluded Julian his entire life.

The only things a vast fortune has brought Oscar Woodhaven are greedy relatives and loneliness. At twenty-one years of age, he has everything a man could possibly want—except someone to love him. When he meets devastatingly handsome Julian Parker, he believes his luck has turned.

Between Oscar’s lavish gifts and their searing-hot nights, Julian is caught between what he thinks he needs and what his heart truly desires. But when a betrayal threatens to tear them apart, Julian discovers he’ll do whatever it takes to convince Oscar the greatest fortune of all is love.

Buy Link: Brook Street: Fortune Hunter (#2)

Brook Street: Thief (#1) now available
Brook Street: Rogues (#3) available May 7

Ava March is an author of smoking hot M/M historical erotic romances. She loves writing in the Regency time period, where proper decorum is of the utmost importance, but where anything can happen behind closed doors.
Website ** Blog ** Goodreads ** Facebook ** Twitter

Posted in Authors, Books, Carina Press | 8 Comments »

The Allure of the Sands

M.K. Chester | April 10th, 2012

PhotobucketAs a current Spartacus fangirl, I must confess that my *ahem* interest in all things ancient began with the blockbuster movie Gladiator. Even though I majored in history, the ancient world did not grab my attention until Hollywood brought the sands of the arena to life. Russell Crowe didn’t hurt either. Or Andy Whitfield, or…I’m digressing, aren’t I?

The writer in me felt compelled to try my hand at this particular era. There is a lot of room to create stories in this long stretch of history, and after some research, I found my niche in the Dacian Wars. This epic struggle with its strange ending was the perfect jumping off point for a love story between the conquering general and one of Dacia’s daughters, now enslaved in Rome.

I dug in. I did research. And I still got things wrong! Thankfully, my editor is an ancient history lover, so I feel that, between the two of us, the details are nailed down. But there were also things to avoid. First and foremost: do NOT write dialogue a’ la Spartacus! Although my husband and I have incorporated the stunted, “Apologies” and “Gratitude” into our vocabulary, it doesn’t read very well.

At the heart of things, I wanted to tell a great love story.  How does a vengeful woman taken prisoner come to fall in love with her captor? And how does a rabidly loyal soldier come to see that his commitment is misplaced? How do they learn to trust one another more than the brutal reality that surrounds them?  You decide:

As the Romans storm the last stronghold of Dacia, Princess Ademeni awaits her fate. Taken as a slave, she is deposited into General Marcus Cordovis’s home as a gift.

Driven to avenge her family, Ademeni plots to kill her captor and escape. Though not the cruel victor she expects, Marcus keeps her too close to make escape easy–so close that Ademeni is soon tormented by an unbidden, traitorous attraction. In a moment of weakness, a passionate kiss almost undoes them both.

But the handsome, widowed general has another surprise for Ademeni: a young daughter. Marcus dares ask Ademeni to help him bridge the gap between him and his little girl. And now, Ademeni is growing too fond of those she is supposed to despise. As Marcus prepares for the triumphal march and the opening of the gladiatorial games–where captives of her homeland will be sacrificed–Ademeni readies for her own battle between revenge and love.

I’ve had a great experience with Carina Press, from submission to publication. With the swing toward digital publishing and their nice list of similar historical romances, like Georgie Lee’s Mask of the Gladiator, Veronica Scott’s Priestess of the Nile, and Fae Suntherland’s Gladiator’s Master, I feel right at home.

You can purchase Surrender to the Roman on the Carina Press website.  I would love to hear your feedback, so feel free to let me know your thoughts on my Facebook fan page, Twitter feed, or over at Goodreads. You can always stop by my website and blog to see what’s happening.

See you in the sands!

M.K. Chester is a romance author, wife and mom, history geek, sports nut, sarcastic conversationalist, and totally owned by her Scotties, Stewie and Angus.

Posted in Authors, Books, Carina Press | 7 Comments »

Glory Days and the Rules of the Game

Sandy James | April 4th, 2012

Some days, I feel as though I’ll never grow up. A modern day Peter Pan. I blame my students—they keep me young. When a person spends eight hours a day with teenagers, it tends to keep her young at heart.

Things changed last summer when my thirty-year high school reunion stared me in the eye. How could it have been thirty years since I walked across the gymnasium floor to have someone hand me a diploma? Maybe it seems so close because I stand in a gym every May and hand out diplomas to students who choose me as their presenter, giving them all hugs and telling them how proud I am of them. Every graduation of a new class of students keeps my own fresh in my mind.          Photobucket

As the reunion date grew closer, I found myself in touch with many of my former classmates through Facebook. (An enthusiastic wave to Terre Haute South Vigo class of 1981!) How great to reconnect and learn all about their lives while we reminisced about the “good old days.” With each new discussion, I learned something about their present lives, but I also discovered things about their pasts I hadn’t known in high school. The writer in me flared to life.

What if someone went back to a high school reunion only to have every skeleton she’d shoved in her closet come tumbling out? Maddie Sawyer was born that day, and I started writing the story of her finding a new love as she exhumes the life she thought she’d buried so long ago.

Have any of you been to a class reunion? Did you go hoping an old boyfriend had lost all his hair? Or did you just want to reconnect with old friends? Did you wish that the girl who picked on you had a butt the size of Florida, or was the reunion nothing more than a chance to raise a glass to your glory days? Please leave me a comment for a chance to win a copy of Rules of the Game! (I’ll draw a winner at random on Friday, April 6th.)

I have to wonder if the age of social media will blunt the excitement of reunions. Now that we’re all connected in so many different ways, the world seems so much smaller, and distance seldom keeps us far apart. Maybe one day, reunions will be passé. But for now, just like Maddie, we all make those trips back to our hometowns to see people who helped make us who we are.

Rules of the Game is on sale now!

PhotobucketRead an EXCERPT!

Blurb: Kathryn West has it all. She’s a confident, bestselling author living it up in New York City. Too bad she doesn’t actually exist, and is only timid Maddie Sawyer’s pseudonym. Determined to attend her high school reunion with a man right out of one of her racy romance novels, she plots to find a sexy bad boy who’s up to Kathryn’s standards.

She finds Mr. Perfect shooting pool in a biker bar. He’s a blue-collar hunk who just happens to look great in leather. But the mysterious Scott Brady has some rules of his own: he won’t agree to her deal unless she poses as his girlfriend in front of his family and friends first.

As the reunion nears, Maddie tries to maintain her carefree façade, knowing she’ll soon face some old ghosts. She’s torn between her growing attraction to Scott and the nagging feeling that he’s hiding something important. Will she still want him when she finds out his secret? What about when he discovers hers?

Sandy James lives in a quiet suburb of Indianapolis with her husband of thirty years. She’s a high school social studies teacher who especially loves psychology and United States history. Since she and her husband own a small stable of harness racehorses, they often spend time together at the two Indiana racetracks.

You can find Sandy on her website, on Facebook or on Twitter.

Rules of the Game on sale at:

Amazon B&N Carina

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Posted in Authors, Books, Carina Press, Contest/Giveaway | 31 Comments »

Blimey! Pirates Need Love, Too

Jennifer_BrayWeber | March 28th, 2012

Some might say I have an obsession for pirates. By the looks of my office filled with pirate paraphernalia, skulls, and emptied rum bottles, lots of emptied rum bottles, they might be right. Long before Jack Sparrow and the Black Pearl sailed onto the silver screen, I had a great interest in pirates. From Peter Pan, to the Goonies, to Erroll Flynn, to Russell Crowe’s Master and Commander, and of course, Captain Jack, these tall sea-worthy tales tickled my fancy.

But Hollywood romanticizes pirates. Truth be known, pirates were a nasty, often blood-thirsty lot. However, there was once a pirate, Sam Bellamy, driven to his occupation by one of the most powerful sources of motivation—love.

Bellamy arrived in Cape Cod from England around 1714 where he met a young woman named Maria Hallett. Together they fell madly in love. But he was a penniless sailor and her wealthy family denied him her hand. To win their favor, he set out to seek his fortune by the quickest means – he joined a pirate crew, of course. With a strong will and expertise in his craft, it wasn’t long before Bellamy became one of the most successful pirates of his time. During his reign of terror in the Caribbean, he captured some 50 ships, including a fine slave ship, the Whydah. He chased the Whydah for three days. Without ever shooting his shipboard guns, the Whydah surrendered and Bellamy took the prize for his own. Now laden with riches, Bellamy charted his course north, back to his love, Maria. But as he reached Cape Cod, a terrible storm raged. Just a mere 500 feet from the shores of Cape Cod, the Whydah broke apart, tragically taking nearly all on board, including Bellamy.

PhotobucketAh, those swashbuckling pirates. Bellamy could easily be the inspiration for a redemptive hero in a romance novel. And who doesn’t love a pirate captain who needs redemption? Are you thinking Captain Jack Sparrow? Yeah, me too.

In A Kiss in the Wind, Captain Blade Tyburn pulls double duty as not only an opportunistic pirate but also as an infamous libertine known far and wide by swooning ladies, jealous husbands, and watchful fathers. Even the mighty fall and he may have met his match in Marisol, a knife-wielding, beautiful thief. Batten down the hatches. There are stormy seas ahead for these two.

Click here to read and excerpt from A Kiss in the Wind.

Want more? Click here for your copy of A Kiss in the Wind.

Do you have a favorite pirate, either fictional or real? How about a favorite pirate movie? I’d love to hear from you.

Jennifer Bray-Weber hopes to one day live out her life as the island goddess she was meant to be somewhere in the Caribbean. Until then, she lives in her native state of Texas with her real life pillage-and-plunder husband and two spirited daughters. Catch up with her at www.jbrayweber.com.

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Posted in Authors, Books, Excerpt | 14 Comments »

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