Carina Press Blog

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 Do You Read Before You Sleep?

JennyBullough | April 26th, 2012

By Jenny Bullough, Manager of Digital Content for Harlequin and Carina Press, occasional insomniac and dedicated bedtime reader.

A terrible thing happened to me the other night. I was reading in bed, as I always do, when the light-and-fluffy historical novel I was reading suddenly turned bleak and depressing for a minor, secondary character (and I mean REALLY depressing, like young-child’s-pregnant-mother-raped-and-killed, child-suddenly-orphaned-and-sent-to-the-workhouse depressing). I kept reading for a while, hoping that things would start to improve so I could turn off my ereader, but things just got worse and worse!

Bedtime is just about the only quiet, uninterrupted reading time I get in an average day, but more than that, I need to read in bed before I go to sleep. It’s the only way I can gently turn my brain away from thinking about the day’s worries so I can fall asleep and sleep soundly. If I don’t read, I get insomnia from thinking too much. Did I send that email or is it still in my drafts folder? Did I remember to lock the back door? Is that my daughter coughing? Is she getting sick? Maybe I should make a doctor’s appointment…

But if what I’m reading before I turn off the light is in any way scary or sad, the whole system breaks down. Instead of gently lulling my brain into a pre-sleep state of relaxation, the stress of reading about characters under duress kicks everything into high gear. What if that cough is an early sign of something more serious? What would I do if someone broke into the house? What was that noise?? Not exactly rational thoughts, and definitely not conducive to a good night’s sleep.

What’s ideal bedtime reading for me is contemporary romance, historical romance, or erotic romance. Genres where I know the characters are not likely to be in mortal or physical danger, where the only palpable threat is the possibility of a (temporarily) broken heart, where I know things will work out okay.

Although even within these genres, if the emotional stakes are too high, I will keep reading until I come to a satisfying stopping place. Which is partly why I’ve been known to read late into the night – sometimes the book is just too good to put down, and sometimes, I just have to keep going until things get better.

When things started to go downhill for this poor kid in the historical, I had to stop reading it – but I couldn’t go to sleep with THAT being the last thing I read. Luckily, with two e-readers and a small paperback TBR pile on my bedside table, I was able to switch over to a palate-cleansing erotic romance. After just two and a half chapters, I was ready to turn off the light, and entertain some very enjoyable dreams ;)

What’s your ideal bedtime reading?

Posted in Carina Press | 11 Comments »

Darkest Caress: Magic In the Air

Kaylea_Cross | April 25th, 2012
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View from the Baltic side of the Curionian Spit, Lithuania

Since I hate flying, I don’t travel very often. Thus, never in my wildest imaginings did I ever think I’d wind up visiting the Baltic States, but that’s exactly what I did in the fall of 2010. (See? Never say never, people.)

While in Lithuania touring the Curonian Spit and the spectacular seaside town of Nida where the Soviet Beaujolais liked to spend their summers, we learned about the local folklore and pagan tradition of the area. I was hooked.

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Devil sculpture, waiting to lure the unwary traveler. Hill of Witches, Lithuania.

During a tour of the Hill of Witches, I got shivers up my spine.

In the 1970s, sculptors completed a variety of wooden statues depicting local legends and set them in a very specific order on what used to be a pagan site of worship. Today visitors start out in the sunlight and walk up the ancient hill, moving through the forest amongst friendly sculptures of good witches and goddesses. Then the shadows close in. As you walk further up the hill and deeper into the darkness, suddenly devils and evil witches lurk everywhere. Once you pass the devil, shrouded in shadow at the pinnacle of the hill, you continue back down toward the sunlight where more friendly creatures await once more. The experience left quite an impression on me.

During this ethereal journey I swore I felt magic tremble in the air. That’s when the idea for this series first whispered to me.

Standing on that ancient, pagan site of worship, I listened raptly as our guide regaled tales of witches and devils, of mythological creatures and a powerful sea goddess named Neringa, who formed the Curionian Spit and it’s gigantic sand dunes by throwing sand from her apron, thus protecting the local fisherman from the fury of the Baltic Sea. Other things I learned that day were equally as fantastic. Though I normally write military romantic suspense, I just couldn’t ignore the story line for this series. It was too interesting and too powerful to set aside.

With a little encouragement I bit the bullet and sat down to dive into Darkest Caress. The best part was the world building, where I got to take these ancient legends and weave them into my modern day story. I hope you enjoy it!

For me, the setting of Nida and the Curonian Spit brought this series to life. What book settings have most impacted you as a reader? Leave a comment for a chance to win a digital copy of Darkest Caress.

Happy reading,

Kaylea Cross

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Blurb: Two-hundred-year-old Daegan Blackwell is one of the last remaining Empowered, an ancient magical race. Daegan’s duty is to lead and protect his remaining Brethren in the coming war foretold by prophecy. The last thing he expects is to meet the one woman who will either save or destroy him—his destined mate.

Fiercely independent Realtor Olivia Farrell believes darkly handsome Daegan is simply a prospective client. Until she’s attacked by a man with a strange aura—and Daegan fights him off, taking away her pain with just his touch. At first, Olivia refuses to believe she’s part of a magical race, yet mounting evidence and her powerful chemistry with Daegan are too strong to deny.

But as Daegan’s partner, Olivia becomes a target in the battle between good and evil that threatens her life, as well as the very existence of the Empowered. And the only one who can save her is the man claiming to be her destiny…

*Kaylea Cross writes edge-of-your-seat military romantic suspense and magical paranormal romance. For more information please visit her website, Twitter, or Facebook.*

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Posted in Carina Press | 9 Comments »

Landscapes of a story

Ella_Drake | April 24th, 2012

While researching the setting for DESERT BLADE, a near-future post-apocalyptic romance, I ran across something I’d never heard about before. Beneath the town of Leavenworth, Kansas, there’s an “underground city”. The recent rediscovery of it made some press, but on digging deeper, it turns out to be more like a series of a few connected basements. Possibly to hide escaped slaves or even fugitives. After all, Leavenworth was a part of the Wild West back in the day. Plenty of fugitives to go around.

Deciding the setting of a story is often a straightforward and automatic fit. Sometimes the landscape takes on a character of it’s own. Such is the case in Desert Blade. When creating a post-apocalyptic world, the setting is a crucial element. In the early stages, the attraction of an underground city took hold of my imagination. I pictured secret meetings. Hiding in the dark. I pulled on my experience walking through Underground Atlanta, which is an old underground train depot that’s now a mall. Then I found myself looking at malls in a new light. What might happen if an apocalyptic event happened and everyone in this mall, right now, became the only survivors for miles around? Or, maybe the subway. All the people riding in those cars go into them after work and come up to find the world changed? The setting would set the tone of the book and these setting lent a definite darkness to any story of survival.

But in the end, Desert Blade is about the land. The open spaces of the American mid-west. It’s about what happens when bio-engineered food crops go horribly wrong and the entire face of the United States is changed. Showing that story couldn’t happen underground. It needed to be out in the open and have a larger than life hero who needed all that space. And Derek is certainly larger than life.

Still, those landscapes keep living and evolving in the back of my mind and certainly may turn up in a future story. Because an underground city is such an enthralling concept for a story.

What landscapes have you seen that made you create a history or a future to fit it? Have you visited underground malls and created stories around what could have happened one hundred years ago on those same bricks now beneath your feet?

Desert Blade

In the post-apocalyptic Midwest, now a ravaged dust bowl, former guardsman Derek Covington must find help for a sick boy. With nothing but memories of all he lost, Derek crosses the desert alone in search of the doctor who saved his own life ten years ago. Drifter gangs who loot and pillage don’t dare come near, for Derek has a formidable weapon: a prosthetic arm with a deadly blade.

For a decade, Dr. Lidia Sullivan has fantasized about the handsome guardsman who’d been in her care. And now she can’t deny his dangerous request. But as they make the treacherous journey back to Old St. Louis, they must contend with much more than fierce desert winds and their unthinkable attraction. A fearless gang has spotted Lidia—a rare woman—and will fight Derek to the death to get her. And though he risks his life to save her for the sake of the child who needs her, she fears there’s one thing Derek will never risk: his heart.

Available from CarinaPress.com

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Ella Drake is a dark paranormal and science fiction romance author. You can find her on Twitter, Facebook, & Goodreads.

For more Science Fiction Romance from Ella, see her other releases from Carina Press: Silver Bound and Jaq’s Harp

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Posted in Books | 6 Comments »

Finding Romance in Everyday Life

Juliana_Ross | April 24th, 2012

Like many of us, I hit the ground running on Monday morning and don’t come up for air until Friday night. My days are a blur of work, chauffeuring, homework supervision, pet care, errands, cooking and laundry. (Mountains and mountains of laundry.) Usually my weekends are just as busy, too, what with birthday parties and family obligations and all those chores that never get done during the week.

I write in the evenings, once my kids are asleep, and often in the mornings, too, if I can haul myself out of bed early enough. Practically speaking, this often means I spend less time with my husband than any other member of the family, the dog and cat included.

So where does romance fit in? And how can a romance writer like myself find inspiration amid the craziness of everyday life? It took me a while to figure out the answer, mainly because it was so different from the larger-than-life scenarios that figure in my favorite books.

My husband has never rescued me from a burning building, a sinking ship or a blood-starved vampire. He has never nursed me back to health after I was struck down by cholera or consumption or childbed fever. Nor has he fought in hand-to-hand combat to defend my honor, although in all fairness he has studied martial arts for many years and I’m certain he could do so if necessary.

We’ve been married for ten years, and he’s never surprised me with flowers or jewelry, has never written me a poem, and has never whisked me off to Paris for the weekend. Ahem.

And yet…

When I was felled by the worst cold ever while working on the final round of edits for Improper Relations, he brought me mugs of tea and rubbed my back and took care of everything so I wouldn’t worry.

He encouraged me every step of the way when I decided I wanted to focus on writing, and he never stopped believing I would be successful one day, despite abundant proof (in the form of rejection letters) to the contrary.

When I told him that Angela James at Carina Press had phoned to say “yes” to Improper Relations, he was so overcome he could only say, “I’m so proud of you.”

And when our daughter was born, five years ago this spring, he waited until the baby was settled and the delivery room had quieted down and then he took my hands in his, kissed me, and looked me in the eye without saying a word. In that moment—the most romantic moment of my entire life—I knew without a doubt that he loved me, was proud of me, and would cherish me and our children forever.

It’s because of these moments (and countless others that I don’t dare mention because the poor man would likely curl up and expire of embarrassment) that I believe in romance. It may sound corny, but it’s true.

In this I know I’m not alone. We’re all searching for romance in our lives. Sometimes we find it in the pages of a book. Sometimes we find it in the quiet moments of our own lives.

And sometimes, if we’re really lucky, we get to write about it.

An editor by profession but an historian by inclination, Juliana Ross lives in Toronto, Canada, with her husband and young children. In her spare time she cooks for family and friends, makes slow inroads into her weed patch of a garden, and reads romance novels (the steamier the better) on her eReader.

You can find Juliana on her website, Goodreads, Twitter, Facebook and—her newest obsession—Pinterest .

You can buy Improper Relations through Carina, Amazon, Barnes and Noble and All Romance.

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Posted in Carina Press | 12 Comments »

You Tell Us: Your Favorite Story Tropes

Rhonda Helms | April 23rd, 2012

I don’t know about you guys, but when I read for leisure (yeah, do you hear me snorting? I hardly ever get time for that anymore *sobs*), I tend to be drawn to certain types of books. Certain tropes that time and again fulfill some…need in me. Here are a few of my favorites:

–friends to lovers. I can’t resist these kinds of stories. You know, like, the girl who had a crush on her brother’s bestie for years and years, and he saw her as nothing more than a friend…until one day, VA-VA-VOOM, suddenly she comes back into his life looking SMOKING hot and he’s all, holy crap. I’m an idiot for not seeing that before. lol

–sacrifice. I love stories where people sacrifice for someone they love. E.g., taking on extra work to support a very sick loved one. There’s something so powerful and moving about these types of stories, the way they showcase the generosity of the human spirit.

–chase scenes. This is where I humbly admit how very romance-crazy I am. I can’t quit those scenes at the end of books (or movies!) where someone is chasing after the other person to profess love, or to apologize, or propose or whatever. He takes a plane to find her. She hops in a cab for a race through downtown rush hour. It doesn’t matter. If there’s a race to beat the clock, I’m there, holding my breath in anticipation.

–handy-man characters. I don’t know why I love this, actually. But when there’s a man or woman who does craftwork (e.g., carpentry, metal work, sword-making, etc), I dig that. There’s something about that kind of talent that always draws me in.

Anyway, I could go on and ON… But now I want to hear from you! What beloved story tropes draw you back again and again?

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Posted in Books,Carina Press | 15 Comments »

The Importance of Misery

Melissa_Johnson | April 19th, 2012

When I was a kid, I tortured my dad with difficult questions.

When Adam and Eve took a bite from the apple in the Garden of Eden…was that a metaphor for them having sex? How can Grandaddy be a Christian minister when he believes in evolution? And the big one that has plagued humanity for ages: Why must there be evil and misfortune in the world?

Now, my dad is the kind of person who’ll make a go at answering any question, but he had no struggle to answer this last question.

Evil and bad things happen so that we can appreciate the good in the world. How much would you love a sunny day if you’d never been cold in the rain? How incredible does your food taste when you are hungry?

I hated this answer when I was a kid. For rainy days and mild hunger, it was barely acceptable, but for hatred, despair, rejection, persecution, poverty, disease, war, torture—you know, big time suffering—it sucked. I figured I could appreciate good things just fine without knowing misery. And what about perpetrators of evil and misery? Were they supposed to get something valuable for having done bad?

As I’ve grown up and experienced a tiny bit of the hardships life has to offer, I’ve discovered that I do like to think the bad times make me more appreciative of the good e.g. experiences with minimum-wage jobs make my later careers paradisiacal, trying to slow the progress of my lung disease has made me rediscover dancing and rock climbing—activities I wouldn’t have made time for otherwise.

I attribute purpose to hardship in order to make a coherent narrative of my life, and most humans do this: we’re storytellers of our lives. We love stories, and those with extremes of elation and tragedy are the most beloved.

So maybe instead of: Why must there be misery in the world? I should ask: How can humans accept and make sense of misery in the world? And maybe one of the answers to this question is stories.

I’m pulled into stories in which the characters go through an intense range of human emotions and experience. In a book I recently edited, Rebecca Rogers Maher’s Snowbound with a Stranger, the heroine is mired in numb loneliness and the hero has intense tragedy in his past. Their joy in each other means so much more to me because of the darkness that has blanketed years of their lives.

I also love characters who’ve been bad themselves. In another book I recently edited, Dee J. Adams’s Dangerously Close, the rock-star hero was a dissolute womanizer. His clean-up and growth are a beautiful thing to experience. His force of will engenders admiration and hope in me, and I can see how doing bad might just give someone an enhanced understanding of good.

Another question I could ask is: Can there be empathy without suffering?

One of my favorite emotions to experience in a story is empathy: my empathy for a character, and the empathy one character feels for another. When a heroine feels fury at a wrong done to the hero, or when a hero is distraught over his inability to change a horror in the heroine’s past, or when the empathy comes from the realization of the pain one character has caused the other—these are the moments that get me choked up, and the scenes I reread later.

Empathy feeds the couple’s determination to make a good future together and makes me root for them. On another level, empathy gives me confidence in humanity. If we feel each others’ pain, maybe we can savor each others’ happiness more deeply, and maybe we will be less willing to inflict pain on others. While reading stories probably won’t end misery in the world—a decent portion of suffering isn’t even caused by human action—I do think stories improve us.

Has the suffering of a character ever made you profoundly empathic, possibly given you insight into something you haven’t experienced personally? Has the empathy between a hero and heroine ever stuck in your mind long after you finished the book?

Posted in Carina Press,Writing/Submissions Advice,editorial,editors | 8 Comments »

North To Alaska!

Julie_Rowe | April 18th, 2012

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Alaska is a beautiful state. My family and I took a cruise up the coast of Alaska last summer, stopping in several ports, and loved every moment of it. The scenery is amazing!

I love to write about interesting and beautiful places and as I wrote NORTH OF HEARTBREAK, I fell in love with the state. I hope you’ll fall in love too.

Fascinating facts about Alaska:

• Juneau is the only state capital is the US with no road access.
• Alaska covers 586,412 sq. mi. – two and a half times larger than Texas.
• Alaska was purchased from Russia in 1867 for $7.2 million.
• The highest air temperature recorded in Alaska was 100 F at Fort Yukon in 1915. The lowest temperature, -80 F, was recorded at Prospect Creek Camp in 1971.
• Alaska is only 55 miles east of Russia.
• The Alaska Highway was built as a military supply road during WWII.
• In 1943 Japan invaded Alaska’s Aleutian Islands – starting the “1000 Mile War”. They occupied Agattu, Attu & Kiska.
• The “1000 Mile War” was the first battle fought on US soil since the Civil War.
• There are more than 3,000 rivers and 3 million lakes in Alaska.
• About 52 percent of Alaskans are male, the highest percentage of any state.
• Alaska State Sport: Dog Mushing.
• A 674 mile dogsled relay in 1925 brought diphtheria vaccine to Nome.
• The Iditarod is a dog-team race covering over 1000 miles.
• It takes the fastest dog-team between 9 & 12 days to travel the 1000+ mile Iditarod trail.
• Sled dogs are driven solely by verbal commands.
• Nearly one-third of Alaska lies within the Arctic Circle.
• Alaska’s coastline extends over 6,600 miles.

Share an interesting fact about your home state, province or country in the comments and you’ll be entered to win a free copy of NORTH OF HEARTBREAK!

You can buy North of Heartbreak as for your Nook or Kobo or for your Kindle

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Julie Rowe’s first career as a medical lab technologist in Canada took her to the North West Territories and northern Alberta, where she still resides. She loves to include medical details in her romance novels, but admits she’ll never be able to write about all her medical experiences because, “No one would believe them!” You can reach her at www.julieroweauthor.com , on Facebook at Julie Rowe or on Twitter @JulieRoweAuthor .

Posted in Carina Press | 14 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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