Posts Tagged ‘contemporary cowboy romance’

Men Under the Mistletoe – Christmas Yet To Come

Josh_Lanyon | December 7th, 2011

If you’ve already read the stories in Men Under the Mistletoe, you know that there are happy endings ahead for some lovely lads this year. But what about next year? Will the magic of Christmas last or will it melt away with the spring and the return to regular life? We thought it would be fun to take a peek at what our characters are doing come next holiday season.


Harper Fox:
It’s great to be part of Carina’s M/M holiday anthology again this year, and I loved writing my contribution, Winter Knights. My first topic for today’s blog – where will your heroes be this time next year – is an interesting one for me, because it sends me deep into “what happens after happy-ever-after” territory, and I really like that. It kills me to part with my protags at the end of a novel, and I welcome the chance of a speculative return visit! And I’ve got a little competition challenge for you too, details at the end of this post.

Gavin and Piers got their HEA after a short but very intense struggle. They’d been together for three years at the opening of Winter Knights. Gavin had created a world in his head where everything was okay in their relationship, and it took the shock of Piers breaking up with him to make him re-evaluate. So I left them at the end of the story passionately reconciled, but with a whole world of loving work to do. They were definitely just at the end of their beginning.

Christmas 2012 sees Gavin and Piers again in the snow up near Hadrian’s Wall. They won’t be staying in the dreadful backpacker’s hostel this time – no need for that; Gavin’s new theories in Arthurian folklore will be selling his latest book like hot cakes, and as for Piers, his compassionate nature and struggles with his own religious beliefs will have led him to a counselling post at a Catholic seminary. So materially they’re flourishing, and as far as their romance goes, they’re about as close as two such wildly different men can get. I reckon they’ll have spent a whole year arguing, adoring one another, having hot sex with and without the aid of love beads, and sitting up all night in ferocious debate about all those issues they kept locked up for their first three years. So they’ll have taken a room in a really nice Northumbrian hotel, and I’m not at all sure I’d want the room next door.

This year they’re doing the full romantic thing, and it’s Piers who’s fearlessly booked the double room and given stare for bold stare to the desk clerk who might have liked to make something of it. (You’d think there’d be no need in this day and age, but sadly around here you’d still get the odd surprise.) It’s an important anniversary for him and Gav. They’re getting everything right they got wrong before, and Gavin is on a pilgrimage. Last year at this time something extraordinary happened to him up here among these hills. He found out the benefits of having a man of faith as a partner when Piers believed unquestioningly in him, but all through this past year he’s thought about his encounter with the ghosts of Hallow Hill. And Piers has suggested that they walk up onto Sewingshields Crag late at night on Christmas Eve, just to see what will happen.

Nothing does, of course. They’re a bit shamefaced, wandering about through the snowdrifts, looking for an entrance into a magical cavern in the earth. But at least they’re together this time, and properly equipped with food and a nice hipflask. They find a sheltered spot among the rocks and one thing leads to another, as it generally does with these two extended honeymooners. They curl up together and talk for hours, about everything they’ve been through, Gavin’s fears about a recurrence of illness, the prospect of maybe one day adopting a kid. It’s a magical night, but only in a very earthly, human way, and Gavin is certain that the double set of hoof prints he sees freshly made in the snow on the way back to their hotel is probably only a pair of riders out to enjoy the Christmas dawn. Probably…

So, about this competition! Gavin didn’t do too well with his Christmas gift to Piers in Winter Knights. An engagement ring and a sex toy sent mixed messages, I would say. Do you reckon he did any better the year after? What do you think the long-suffering, lovely Piers should get in 2012? It would be my pleasure to send an ebook from my backlist – Life After Joe, Driftwood, The Salisbury Key, Nine Lights Over Edinburgh, Last Line, A Midwinter Prince or Winter Knights – to anyone who comes up with the best idea, and these will be judged on… er… the one I like best. Whichever makes me smile most, or touches me, or makes me snort with laughter. Further, I faithfully promise that if I ever write a sequel to Winter Knights, and I’d love to do it, I will include your suggestion!

I’m sure you’ll love reading about what the guys from Josh, Ava and KA’s books will be up to this time next year, so check out our other great Men Under The Mistletoe holiday anthology blogs, and all the best for a wonderful festive season to you all.

KA Mitchell:

“A Really Late Epiphany”

A cup of Kona coffee steamed on the table on the balcony, the rising sun turned the waves into a million diamonds, and Bryce’s arms slid around my waist as he rested his chin on my shoulder. It was a perfect morning. Beautiful. My schedule for the day consisted of tanning, brunch, a surfing lesson and a Catamaran cruise. And my stomach had more knots than a third grader’s attempt at a macramé snowman because it was so horribly wrong it was for December twenty-third.

“So. Your first Christmas off. What do you think?” Bryce stepped away, slurping his own coffee.

A year ago, I would have sworn I’d give anything to find myself somewhere but the tiny Pennsylvania valley that held my family’s tree farm. In fact, last year I’d had my whole escape to St. Thomas planned out. But I couldn’t seem to get in the spirit of Mele Kalikimaka, despite the battery operated Christmas lights Bryce had hung on the headboard in our suite at the Kahala Resort. It was just wrong.

I turned away from the sparkling ocean and sand, thinking of the frozen slush I’d be facing at home and pasted on a smile. “It’s amazing. Thank you.”

Bryce smiled back, then stared like he was reading the thought bubble he always claimed popped up over my head. He sighed, shaking his head. “I’ll call the airline and get us a flight back. You realize we’ll probably end up snowed in in Chicago.”

“I love you, too.”


Josh Lanyon:
When we last left Web and Mitch in Lone Star, Mitch had a decision to make regarding the guest artist role with Les Grands Ballets Canadiens de Montréal. Web isn’t sure they can survive a long distance relationship. It’s never an easy situation, and to compound matters, Mitch is both highly ambitious and at the peak of his career. It’s a lot to ask someone to give up everything they’ve worked for.

Mitch admits he’s not sure a long distance relationship is a great idea either, but he badly wants the role of the Swan in Bourne’s Swan Lake. In any case, he can’t just up and quit, he has a contract with American Ballet Theater and he doesn’t want to jeopardize his entire future in ballet — nor does Web want him to. They’re both trying to be very logical but, having lost ten years, the idea of further separation is excruciating. They go back and forth, but in the end Mitch decides to take the guest artist role in Canada and he flies back to New York on New Year’s Day.

But this time it’s different. They’re not boys, they’re men and they’ve both learned the hard way that a healthy relationship takes work. Work as in patience, understanding, and commitment. They talk every night on the phone, no matter how late. And when spring comes and Mitch is dancing with Les Grands Ballets Canadiens de Montréal, Web takes his vacation and spends his two weeks in Montreal.

By the time December rolls around again, Mitch has packed up his New York brownstone, and negotiated his way out of his ABT contract. He’s agreed to act as lead instructor and liaison for the summer training course held by ABT in conjunction with the University of Texas in Austin. And he’s joined Austin Ballet Company as a principle dancer. He dances in the Nutcracker all season to great acclaim and sold out audiences. There’s something to be said for being a big fish in a little pond.

Meanwhile Web has moved out of the family homestead and into the Evans’ ranch and when he’s not working, he’s overseeing the renovations he and Mitchell have planned which include a dance studio for Mitch.

There are no performances scheduled on either Christmas Eve or Christmas Day. Mitch and Web spend Christmas Eve with Web’s folks, but Christmas Day is spent together on their own. They sleep late, have breakfast in bed, sleep some more, and then finally **open presents beside their first Christmas tree. Later they prepare their Christmas feast together and both eat until they’re ready to explode. In the evening they take a long walk beneath the frosty bright stars, and when the wind rustles the brush, Web reminds Mitchell about the reindeer he thought he saw the previous year. Their laughter turns to kisses and they return to the house, holding hands and still smiling.

(**In the comment section tell me what presents Mitch and Web gave each other Christmas morning, and whoever I pick as coming up with my absolute favorite choice may pick any ebook from my backlist.)

Ava March:

With My True Love Gave to Me, it feels rather odd to think of a Christmas yet-to-come. Thomas and Alexander’s next Christmas is almost two hundred years ago, but to them, 1823 is ‘next Christmas’. Since it’s the past for us, I can tell you exactly how they spent their holiday as it’s already happened (the space-time continuum aside, I can also impart this little bit of info because, well, I’m their author and therefore their next Christmas went exactly how I say it went…or will go, depending on how you look at it).

Last Christmas, Thomas replaced Alexander’s dark memories of the holidays with a new one filled with hope and love. And next Christmas Eve, they go back to the place where the pain and heartbreak began, back to Alexander’s father’s hunting lodge in the country. A night together, a morning together, and a simple Christmas dinner. Just the two of them. And Christmas becomes Alexander’s favorite time of year.

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Posted in Authors, Behind the Scenes, Books, Carina Press, Contest/Giveaway | 18 Comments »

Voices from the Past

Leah Braemel | June 14th, 2011

I hear voices. They keep me awake at night, telling me stories, or telling me what I got wrong when I wrote their stories earlier that day. Occasionally they don’t wait for me to go to bed.

When I started writing Texas Tangle I had no plans to write a historical about Dillon’s great-great grandparents. But then I wrote a scene where Dillon’s grandmother planted the idea for Nikki, Dillon and Brett to consider turning their relationship into a permanent one. Grandma Barnett was a hoot to write. Strong willed, outspoken, she’s not exactly subtle, especially when she picks up on the vibes between Nikki, Dillon and Brett:

She leaned toward Nikki as if she was going to whisper a secret, but didn’t lower her voice. “My grandparents had a permanent threesome all their adult lives. Betcha Dillon never told you that before.”

Um, gee, Grandma, way to spring another Texas-sized plot bunny on me (have you seen the size of the rabbits in Texas? They’re HUGE compared to the ones we have up here in Canada.) Sure enough, that line stuck with me and soon the voices of Dillon’s great-great-grandparents, Jackson, Nate and Sarah started bugging me to write their story.

“But it’s a historical,”  I whined to them. “Texas Tangle is a contemporary; my reader’s won’t want to jump back 130 years into the past.”

Turned out the three of them were as stubborn as their granddaughter and didn’t stop nagging me until I gave in:

“Danged devil’s rope.” Jackson Kellar checked the stallion’s withers where the barbed wire had nicked it. “It ain’t too bad though, Nate. Shouldn’t be a problem for the trip back home, less it festers.”

“Good. McLeod was right about this fellow being high-spirited. It should be a treat to ride him.” Nate ran a hand down the horse’s neck and crooned softly until it gentled. Nate had mighty talented hands when it came to soothing the beasts. Or any other animals he came across.

Jackson included himself on that list.

As soon as I wrote those first three paragraphs,  I realized Grandma Barnett didn’t know the whole story about her grandparents’ relationship. Sure enough, a couple pages later that suspicion was confirmed when Jackson had the following thought:

Ah, well, he knew it was too good to last. Besides, it was probably better if Nate did take a wife. Their relationship was downright dangerous. A woman in the house would put any rumors to rest. Of course, he’d have to find somewhere else to live if Nate wedded.

Oh boy, yes, this was a story I had to tell. Of course that meant researching 1880s Texas as well as tackling how a woman back in those days would view finding herself legally married to a man in love with another man.

“Come on, Nate. You gotta fight this.” The tenderness in his voice brought tears to Sarah’s eyes. Especially when he leaned over the still figure on the bed, putting his mouth next to Nate’s ear. “You can’t leave me. Don’t die on me, you hear?”

She could barely hear Nate’s rasped response. “You’ve got Sarah now. You won’t be alone.”

“Damn it, you can’t die. I love you.” Jackson gathered Nate into his arms, cradling him like a child.

Sarah had to step back and rest her head against the hall wall, fighting the tears burning tracks down her cheeks. How she’d long to hear him say those words to her. If he could love Nate, maybe one day he’d come to love her too. Or was it even possible for a man who loved his friend that way to love a woman?

I fleshed out the first couple chapters of Tangled Past and submitted a proposal to my Carina Press editor Rhonda Stapleton. Normally you’re supposed to wait until the publisher comes back with a thumbs up or thumbs down before you write any more. (That’s because it’s no use wasting weeks or months writing something that’s going to be rejected.) But Jackson, Sarah and Nate demanded I not wait for a contract, that I tell the whole story of their tangled relationship.  So I continued to write, torturing them and teasing them, sometimes chuckling and sometimes crying as I wrote each scene. By the time my editor emailed me to say that Carina would be acquiring Tangled Past, I’d fallen in love with them as they fell in love with each other.  Now it’s finally out for you to read, I hope you’ll fall in love with them too. Now if all their descendents would just stop shouting at me to tell their stories too…danged voices…

Married to her college sweetheart and the mother of two sons, Leah Braemel is the only woman in a houseful of men—even their cat Spike is male. Shoving her writing in the closet while she raised her family, she gained some varied and interesting insights while working with former military alpha males in the security industry  and later teaching computers to women escaping abusive relationships. Now a full-time writer, Leah loves tormenting her heroes and heroines before rewarding them with a happy-ever-after. If you want to know more about Leah or her other books, visit her website. You can also find Leah on Facebook or follow her on Twitter.

By the way, because it takes place 130 years prior to Texas Tangle, you don’t have to have read one to understand the other but so you can read Grandma Barnett and the infamous dinner scene that inspired Tangled Past, I’m giving away a copy of Texas Tangle to a random commenter today. Just let me know if you normally read strictly historicals or contempories or if it depends upon the story…

*****

Tangled Past CoverForced to marry a man she just met, Sarah McLeod clings to the hope that she’ll finally find the love and acceptance she’s always craved. But her tenuous dreams of a happy life on the frontier are in danger of being dashed by the one thing she can’t change—her husband’s love for another man.

Jackson Kellar’s determined to do right by his bride, yet he’s torn between his newfound love for Sarah and his still-burning desire for Nate.

Ranch owner Nate Campbell loves them both. He hates to see Jackson’s loyalties so divided, and doesn’t want Sarah hurt either. But how can they fix the tangled mess they find themselves in? Nate suggests a possible solution – a permanent threesome.

With the open frontier closing in around them, is Nate’s solution their path to happiness? Or will others destroy what they’ve found together?

Tangled Past – now available from Carina Press

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Posted in Authors, Books, Carina Press, Contest/Giveaway | 27 Comments »

Tangled Friendships (and plotlines)

Leah Braemel | June 4th, 2010

As I wrote in this morning’s post, the original storyline for Texas Tangle was to be a novella between Nikki and Dillon. Originally Nikki was the only one with issues—the aftermath of a failed marriage and a brother who thought nothing of taking everything she owned. Dillon Barnett—well, Dillon I saw as someone with a great family, who hadn’t had to deal with heavy-duty issues. Someone who always had a smile on his face and everyone was his best buddy. Someone who would ride up on his white horse in his white pick-up and lend his neighbor a hand, whether they were man, woman, or donkey.

The sigh she’d been holding back escaped. “You know, your hat’s the wrong color.”

Frowning, he took off his Stetson and examined it, checking it both inside and out. “What d’ya mean? It looks fine to me.”

“It’s black. It should be white.” Lame, Nikki. Real lame.

“Why—oh, white hat. Good guy. I gotcha.” His puzzled expression remained. “Why am I a good guy? Because I stopped? Heck, I couldn’t have just driven by. What type of a person would that make me?”

“Like the half-dozen other drivers who left me standing here?”

After knocking the dust off his hat on his thigh, he resettled it on his head, covering the thick black hair she’d been fantasizing running her fingers through. The shadows thrown by the brim hid the liquid-chocolate eyes that turned her knees into putty. “Pretty girl standing all alone at the side of the road at night? You’re safer that they didn’t stop.”

But then the plans for the novella went by the wayside when Brett walked in and said howdy. The story got longer and the relationships entangled even more because despite Brett’s blond hair and blue eyes, he’s a very dark and broody character. And he has a history with Nikki that Dillon didn’t have.

Midnight had long since come and gone when Brett let himself into his apartment. His shoulders loosened, as did the knot that had formed in his gut. It was stupid. He’d already driven by the Double Bar and saw Dillon’s truck parked out front and knew there’d be no one here. Yet he’d expected to find Dillon waiting for him, even braced himself to have a knock-down-drag-out.

Not that he’d done anything wrong. Yet. He hadn’t kissed Nikki, though he’d been less than a nanosecond away from giving in to temptation. So Dillon had no reason to beat him up again. But he’d come so close.

It damned near killed him trying to pretend he didn’t want to drag Nikki up to his room and make love to her night after night. To pretend he didn’t need her cuddling him in the darkest hours of the night when the nightmares hit.

He diverted to the kitchen and grabbed a beer, then padded into the living room. Stretched out on the couch, he pillowed his head with his arm and settled back with a sigh, using the television as his nightlight. He flipped around the channels, but gave up on finding anything good, so he switched on the DVD player.

Instead of paying attention to whatever the hell crap movie was playing, his mind drifted back to his situation. He’d almost blown it today. Considering Nikki was very definitely in a relationship with Dillon this time, if he’d moved that half inch, if he’d given in to his fantasy, he’d have found himself cast from the Barnett family permanently. After Dillon had kicked his butt from here to kingdom come.

Okay, I admit I may have a small sadistic streak in me because it was fun making Dillon struggle for the first time in his life, to force him to realize that life wasn’t as easy for everyone as life had been for him. To punish him for taking Brett’s friendship for granted. Dillon had some growing up to do; he deserved to have to work for the love of a good woman and to keep  his best friend. Brett needed a lot of reassurance that he deserved a happy-ever-after (even though during one insomnia-induced what-the-heck-was-I-thinking night I wrote a scene killing Brett off—but that’s a story for another day—don’t worry, once I got a good night’s sleep, I cut the scene and made sure he had his happy ending.) And Nikki? Well, Nikki has to put up with both their issues, as well as all the other problems her own family has forced on her, and try to keep everyone happy, including herself. And we all know, that’s tough to do, because you can’t please everyone. So she has to get her priorities in order.

See? There was no way I could tell their story, and solve their issues in under thirty thousand words.

***

Growing up in rural Ontario, Leah Braemel learned to lose herself in the make-believe worlds she found in her mother’s books. At the age of seven, she realized she could write her own stories, and in her early teens she discovered her love of romances. Soon all her stories revolved around giving her heroes and heroines their Happy-Ever-After.

Married to her college sweetheart and the mother of two sons, Leah is the only woman in a houseful of men—even their cat is male. Shoving her writing in the closet while she raised her family, she gained some varied and interesting insights while working with a security firm liaising with Toronto’s Emergency Task Force and bomb squad and later teaching computers to women escaping abusive relationships.

After a conversation with her eldest son about how he needed to follow his dreams, Leah decided she needed to follow her own advice and make her own dreams of becoming a writer come true. She was thrilled when her first sizzling romance was published in 2009.

If you want to read longer excerpts from Texas Tangle, you can visit Leah’s website or her blog. You can also find Leah on Facebook and Twitter.

**reminder: Commenting on an author’s blog entry/entries for the day will enter you to win a digital copy of their Carina Press title. One winner daily. Commenting on any of the Countdown entries will enter you into the big giveaway for a Carina Press promo prize pack. One winner at end of Countdown.**

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Posted in Authors, Books, Carina Press | 20 Comments »

Everything’s Bigger in Texas

Leah Braemel | June 4th, 2010

Since I announced Texas Tangle’s upcoming release, a lot of people have been asking where I got my inspiration for writing a western considering I live in Ontario. (I almost wrote Canada, but we do have cowboys out west.) Back in 2007 I had the opportunity to visit my critique partners who live in the Dallas/Fort Worth area.  Sue invited me to stay at her place where I got an inside look at caring for her beloved Blue Arabian horses. And laughed at her interactions with her donkey Gandalf.  I loved the land with its prickly pear cactus and mesquite trees. I even saw a roadrunner, something that was straight out of cartoon territory to me. Sue introduced me to her father who took me out and taught me how to shoot five different types of guns ranging from a 9mm semi-automatic to a German Luger to an old fashioned Colt 45. (I even hit the bulls-eye a few times!) Then she took me horseback riding on one of her beautiful mares Cimmi. I loved it and knew at some point in the near future I’d end up writing a western.

Cut to two years later, the idea that I’d left on the shelves of my imagination decided it was tired of the dust-bunnies gnawing on its edges. So I pulled it off the shelf, stared at it a while from a couple different angles and decided the story needed to be told. I started with Sue’s horses since horses are typically part of a western. But I like to change the old standards. Instead of the hero being the cowboy, I made the heroine, Nikki, the horse breeder.  The hero would be the neighbor—along came sex-on-legs Dillon.  They’d gone to school together, maybe even eyed each other back in high school. But something had to happen to kick start them into giving in to their *cough*natural inclinations.

I must admit when I started writing Texas Tangle, it was supposed to be a novella. It was supposed to take place over a weekend—a light romp of two friends finally admitting they’re hot for each other but have held off on acting on their impulses until now.  Then Dillon’s best friend Brett walked into the middle of a scene. Where Dillon is a glass-isn’t-just-half-full, it’s-overflowing type guy, Brett is moody and tortured and has been in love with Nikki since he kissed her back in high school. Oh, boy!  Now there was a storyline demanding to be told.

As I re-read my 22,000 word first draft, I made notes: “bring Brett in sooner”, “expand Brett’s part here”, “explore what would happen when Dillon realizes…”, “Brett deserves a happy ending. Give him one!” Writing the tangled threads between the three characters firmly stomped the plans for a novella in the dirt. By the time I submitted it to Carina, Texas Tangle had tripled in size. When I finished the tweaks based on the excellent editing suggestions of Angela James and my new editor Rhonda Stapleton, the manuscript tipped the scales at over 72,000 words.  But I’m so glad I expanded Brett’s part in it, and that I explored what would happen when Dillon realized…well, you’ll have to read Texas Tangle to find out just what Dillon realized. And my novella? Well, they always say everything’s bigger in Texas. Guess Nikki and the boys proved their story, like Texas, was too big for a novella.

Thanks to her cheating ex-husband and her thieving brother, all horse breeder Nikki Kimball has left is a bruised heart, an overdrawn bank account and an empty home. When sex-on-legs Dillon Barnett and his brooding foster-brother Brett Anderson start showing more than just neighborly attention, Nikki is intrigued…and a little gun-shy.

Dillon and Brett have a history; back in high school, the two friends fought a bitter battle over Nikki. Now, ten years later, Brett still longs to be the man in Nikki’s life, but he’s determined to stand back and let Dillon win Nikki’s heart.

Society says Nikki must choose between the two men she loves. Is Nikki strong enough to break all the rules in order to find happiness?

I’ll be posting a short excerpt this afternoon, but if you just can’t wait, you can get a sneak peek by visiting my website or my blog (click on the Coming Soon link at the top of the posts). I can also be found over on Facebook, or chatting on Twitter.

**reminder: Commenting on an author’s blog entry/entries for the day will enter you to win a digital copy of their Carina Press title. One winner daily. Commenting on any of the Countdown entries will enter you into the big giveaway for a Carina Press promo prize pack. One winner at end of Countdown.**

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Posted in Authors, Books, Carina Press | 22 Comments »

Love is Unstoppable!

Rebecca_Grant | May 17th, 2010

romance novel,author,Rebecca E. Grant,love,intrigue

When I was scouting out places to send LIBERTY STARR, Romance Writers of America emailed an update announcing Harlequin’s newest imprint, Carina Press. So, I submitted the manuscript to Carina. I typically mark my calendar with the timeframe each publisher indicates for a response so that I know when to expect a response. It helps me to just trust the process and write the next book instead of obsessing over when I’m going to hear from the publisher.

One day a reminder popped up indicating I should be hearing from Carina Press any day. I remember so clearly that it was a Wednesday. The next day my phone rang. I was on a conference call, saw the number pop up, didn’t recognize it, and clicked ‘ignore’. My conference call ran about another 15-20 minutes and during that time I was distracted by little buzzers and strobe lights were going off in my head—what if that was a call from Carina Press?
Sure enough, I dialed into my voice mail and heard a woman’s voice say, “Rebecca, this is Angela James from Carina Press. I’m sorry I’m not getting you by phone. Instead, I’ll send you an email. I’d like to talk with you about LIBERTY STARR.”

I leaped out of my chair shrieking and then wondered… wait… she didn’t actually say she wanted to offer me a contract… she just said she wanted to talk about it.

As an unpublished writer in the romance genre, I wasn’t sure what the protocol was. Do I call her back or wait for her email? I checked my email. Nothing. I clicked the ‘check mail’ so many times over the next 10 minutes, I practically wore it out. Finally I couldn’t stand it and I hit the redial… and suddenly I was talking with Angela James.

When she said she was interested in publishing LIBERTY STARR, I lost all my verbal skills. I babbled incoherently, tried to stop, babbled some more, and was supremely relieved that after making me feel wonderful about my book, and very special as an author, Angela said she’d follow up with a detailed email. No talking necessary.

The celebrating began, and it’s still going on. I’m so thrilled to be a part of the Carina Press launch—to transition from romance writer (in secret) to romance author in the company of Carina Press and their impressive cadre of accomplished, focused, professional authors who love to create wonderful worlds for their readers. And to Jessica Schulte, my infinitely patient editor… the word “longboat” will forever have a new meaning for us, won’t it!

We each have something extraordinary to contribute to this world—something no one else
can do—and if we don’t do it, the world will never have it.
It will be lost forever.

Before I leave you I want to say a little more about why I write romance novels. It’s my personal belief that every human being is authentically unique. I also believe that we each have something extraordinary to contribute to this world—something no one else can do—and that if we don’t do it, the world will never have it. It will be lost forever. I’ve had any number of philosophical discussions with people about this and know many believe that if one person doesn’t do X, someone else will.

Very likely so. But it will be someone else who does it… and so it will be different.

For so much of my life, I’ve thought one of the most important things—perhaps the most important thing—is to be taken seriously—and that no matter how called I felt to write romances, it was not a serious undertaking.
I thought that, right up until one of my test readers sent me an email. In it she wrote:

“Your writing opened my mind and heart to new possibilities and opportunities. Your story delivered personal life messages to me. It reminded me to stop being so stubborn, to allow myself to be loved, to live with passion, and that it’s ok to open up my heart. You never know where it might take you.”

I burst into tears because in that moment, I knew that not only did I want to write romances, it was a very serious undertaking, and I was finally able to say out loud to others, “I. Write. Romances. They’re intimate, hot, tender, and where appropriate, not so tender. They’re filled with intrigue, laughter, hope and provide an opportunity to disappear into the sheer fantasy of the moment. To marvel at the miracle of love, and the way one human body folds into another.”

Every day I write about the human body and the human heart—how they respond to love, to desire, to joy, to pleasure, to sadness, to hope. It’s my belief that in today’s world where fear and obligation so often define our priorities, we ache to remember love—to remember what it felt like the first time the object of our desire reached out to brush the hair from our face—what it feels like to be so wholly in the moment, nothing else matters except the transcendental, extrasensory experience romance evokes. There’s nothing like it.

That’s what I try to give my readers. And each day I believe more firmly that love is unstoppable!

Love, love, love,
Rebecca E. Grant

Find me at:
Website: www.RebeccaEGrant.com
Blog: blog.RebeccaEGrant.com
Email: Rebecca@RebeccaEGrant.com
I’m also on Facebook and Twitter as Rebecca E Grant

Rebecca E. Grant,romance author,women's fiction author,creative nonfiction author,love is unstoppable

**reminder: Commenting on an author’s blog entry/entries for the day will enter you to win a digital copy of their Carina Press title. One winner daily. Commenting on any of the Countdown entries will enter you into the big giveaway for a Carina Press promo prize pack. One winner at end of Countdown.**

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Posted in Authors, Books, Carina Press, Countdown | 26 Comments »

But could she trust him?

Rebecca_Grant | May 17th, 2010

romance novel,author,Rebecca E. Grant,love,intrigue
Rafe had never met a truly irresistible woman, until he met Liberty.

Libby has the kind of beauty that comes on slow—strikes a guy the longer he looks. And Rafe sure is having a fine time looking, and touching, and loving Liberty Starr.

The only problem is that Rafe is pretending to be just another cowboy down on his luck. Working for the FBI, he’s come to Stone Hill, Colorado, to investigate the man Libby loves like a father.

He was just another cowboy.

Free-spirited Libby offers him a job and a place to stay. Together they spark like wildfire, their intense passion filling their days and nights. But Rafe is only in town for the summer, and while Liberty is willing to risk her heart, secrets threaten any possibility of a future together…

How about if you try to write a sexy romance without ever mentioning a body part below the waist…

When I sat down to write LIBERTY STARR I heard the familiar whisper of my muse. She said, “How about if you try to write the entire book without ever mentioning a body part below the waist—and make it the most erotic story you’ve ever written?”

Well, that just sounded ridiculous to me. How do you write a story without using words, I wondered.

“Oh, you have a dictionary full of words—just don’t use any purple prose—and none of those graphic-below-the-waist shockers.”

“But what about—”

She cut me off. “Nope, not even that.”

“But I have to at least be able to use the clinical term if not the slang.”

She kept whispering, “I’m just trying to help you find your own style. Come on. What are you afraid of? Try it.”

My editor, Jessica was amazing …

And so I tried it. I think I drove my Carina Press editor, Jessica a little crazy because without certain words, at times the images were too vague. But she was endlessly patient and amazingly helpful. She’d write in the margin, “I don’t understand what’s going on here,” or “can you help me out? What is he actually doing to her…”

***

Libby and Rafe, the heroine and hero in LIBERTY STARR, are anxious to meet you, and rather than to describe them to you, I’m going to let them speak for themselves in the following excerpts.

Excerpt from chapter two:

The late morning sun was warm against her bare skin. Libby wolfed the scone and took her coffee to the wicker rocker where she could relax and let the sun do its magic. Her thoughts kept returning to the night before. She would have sworn he would kiss her—maybe even assume he was invited into her bed. But he hadn’t.

She picked up the paper, then tossed it aside. But why hadn’t he kissed her? He certainly seemed attracted to her. She’d worn the white dress with the spaghetti straps just to tease him. And catching the garlic butter with her finger like that—she’d done it before she realized what she was doing. She almost regretted teasing him, but not quite. Between his kiss after her ride yesterday, and letting her know he’d seen her under the waterfall, she’d thought him just a little too pleased with himself.

Over dinner she gradually became aware that he had shared only a few personal details. At first she’d thought he was just a very good listener, always turning the conversation back to her. But after a while she realized that he was practiced at deflecting questions. In fact, she didn’t even know his last name. But that would be easy enough to find out. She could look at Emma’s paperwork.

Libby did a quick inventory of what she did know about him. He owned a truck, a Stetson, claimed to have done a lot of rodeoing, his mother died of a broken heart when he was fourteen, and he had a great mouth. Her body gave an involuntary flex. When she met him on the highway, he’d looked like just another temptation sent her way—another cowboy down on his luck who expected her to save him, and she’d probably try because Lord knows she always fell for the underdog. But there was something under the surface. She’d seen it in his eyes several times. Over dinner, she’d heard it in his speech. He was educated, polite and capable of depth. At least depth of thought. She didn’t yet know about his character.

By the end of the night, he hadn’t seemed so much like a cowboy down on his luck as he did a man who valued his freedom. He was also well-informed about the whole Haley’s Ranch fiasco, which proved nothing, really, since the story had been all over the national news. A nudist colony, three women and misappropriated trust funds made for a great headline.

This morning she had learned that Rafe was interested enough to impress her. Why else would he rise early and get all the chores done before noon? Yet, last night he had not kissed her. Instead, he’d walked her to her room. The moment hung suspended. He’d stood so close she could feel his heat.

“Thanks for dinner.” His eyes burned.

“You’ll work it off.” She could feel her own eyes burning.

He reached out and brushed a tendril from the side of her face. It was all she could do to keep from chasing his fingers with her lips. His hand rested briefly on the side of her shoulder. His fingers massaged gently as if he couldn’t keep from touching her. He took both of her hands in his, squeezed them lightly, then drew his hands up the sides of her arms. His thumbs hooked the fallen straps of her dress and slid them into place.

“Good night, Elle.”

And that’s how he left her.

***

Excerpt from chapter four:

She was half-blinded by a new round of tears as she left the house and headed for the stables. She didn’t even see Rafe until he caught her. She buried her face in his chest. She didn’t care whether he was Rafe the playful, ardent lover or Rafe the dark and sulky version. All she cared was that he was there. That his arms wrapped around her as if she belonged in them. That he held every part of her body against every part of his. She wept into his chest until she had nothing left. Her soul ached for that lonely man who had never really learned how to connect with another human being. After a while, she grew silent, and still Rafe held her.

When at last she was breathing normally, he said, “I don’t know what happened in there, but if he hurt you in any way…”

“He didn’t hurt me. Quite the opposite.”

“Well something he did made you cry.”

“Yes.” She brought her mouth to the soft place between his jaw and his neck. “Yes. I am crying because of him.”

Rafe held her even more firmly but said nothing. She could feel the tic of his jaw. Instinctively, she brought her lips to the tick. “It’s not like that. It’s not what you think. He didn’t do anything to me.”

“I’ve heard enough around town to know he’s an unfeeling bastard.”

“No, no. That’s just what people say about him.” She kissed his neck, aware that he was supporting the full weight of her body. She kissed the underside of his chin and the hollow between his shoulder and collarbone, aware that his jaw was still ticking.

Rafe swung her into his arms. She closed her eyes and turned in to him. She would have crawled into his skin if she could have. “Open your eyes, Elle.”

“No, no,” she murmured, kissing his ear.

“Elle, open your eyes. There’s something you need to see.”

The last thing Libby wanted to do was open her eyes. She brought her lips over his. She hadn’t meant to. There just wasn’t any way not to. At first, he didn’t respond but she knew it was just a matter of moments. She felt his arms tighten, his back grow taut. She heard his breath quicken and felt the beat of his heart against hers. When his mouth opened she drank him in. His lips captured hers, pulling at them until she was breathless. He moved to her neck. The gentle suction caused her to cry out and then he was back, moving his lips over hers until she was nearly limp from the pleasure of it.

He set her on her feet. “There’s something you should see.” He slid his hand into hers and drew her into the stable where Jared had worked so diligently on the injured mare, earlier. “Look.”

Libby looked and saw that the mare was no longer down, but back on her feet. Marengo was in the same stall. He stood very close, as if guarding the mare.

“I think you’ve lost him to another woman.”

Libby whirled into Rafe’s chest and cried again. This time he laughed. “I can’t figure out if you’re happy or sad. But one thing’s for sure. I’m going to need a new shirt.”

“Oh take the damn thing off.” She peeled his shirt away from his skin, and leaned into him. He chuckled even as his arms slid back around her.

***

Excerpt from chapter eight:

“You wonder if you can trust me.”

Something about the way he said it made her shiver. He held her more tightly. “I want to tell you that you can. I will do anything to keep you safe. But I can’t promise that I won’t break your heart. I won’t want to, but we are headed on a collision course. You sense it, don’t you?”

She nodded. Whether she’d realized it or not, she had to have known. There were too many questions for which there appeared no answers.

“Is it any comfort to know that it will break my heart, too?”

Libby turned her body into him and sought his mouth, begging him with her eyes to help her change their destiny. But she knew he couldn’t. Just as she couldn’t. They lay as lovers until the water cooled, but their bodies cried out for more. Libby took him by the hand and led him to the bed. “Then let’s make this last.”

***

I so hope you enjoyed the excerpts, and that you’ve already fallen a little bit in love with Libby and Rafe. I’ll be blogging one more time today with more about how LIBERTY STARR and Carina Press found one another. Join me!

Find me at:
Website: www.RebeccaEGrant.com
Blog: blog.RebeccaEGrant.com
Email: Rebecca@RebeccaEGrant.com
I’m also on Facebook and Twitter as Rebecca E Grant
Rebecca E. Grant,romance author,women's fiction author,creative nonfiction author,love is unstoppable

**reminder: Commenting on an author’s blog entry/entries for the day will enter you to win a digital copy of their Carina Press title. One winner daily. Commenting on any of the Countdown entries will enter you into the big giveaway for a Carina Press promo prize pack. One winner at end of Countdown.**

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I was a closet romance writer…

Rebecca_Grant | May 17th, 2010

mce_href=romance novel,author,Rebecca E. Grant,love,intrigue
What is the one word that will get the attention of most people faster than anything else?

SEX. Am I right?

Just the word elicits a deluge of feelings, images, memories, and the anticipatory thrill of future pleasures…

LOVE is a close second.

Yet, even though these things are uppermost in our minds—or at least up there with the uppermost—we don’t go around telling business associates and casual acquaintances about our love lives or our sexual fantasies… even though we all have them, right?

We don’t rent out billboard space to announce our latest lover, or go on Lenno to talk about the Kama Sutra position we discovered that drives us wild.

For all that sex and love demand so much of our attention and hold our curiosity, it’s still very private.

That’s why I was a closet romance writer.

LIBERTY STARR is my debut romance novel and I’m thrilled that Carina Press has selected it to be a part of their launch. Since you and I have not met one another before, I thought this blog would be a great place to open my heart—to invite you in—and share my journey from closet romance writer to romance author. I’ll do my best to make it fun.

I’m a romantic…

The first time I saw the snow-covered Rockies I was nearly knocked out by what a romantic backdrop they made. (I may have been slightly influenced by the fact that I was utterly in love at the time.) Then there’s the White House. The first time I saw it I was struck by the romanticism of the many lives—leaders—drama—and life-changing decisions that structure has given shelter to (again, quite possibly I was influenced by the tall drink of water whose arm was around me at the time).

Even as far back as when I was six or seven and tried on my first pair of roller skates—the kind that clipped to the bottom of my shoes—I was instantly enamored with them because I realized just how fast those skates would take me down the street to see Kenny, the love of my life.

Romance is everywhere and in nearly everything.

I devoured romance novels as a teenager and never stopped loving them. One day about twenty years ago, I decided I would write a romance novel. The story just poured out of me, and when I was done I called it When the Time is Right. I sent it off to a number of publishers and received a fistful of rejections. Not long ago, I ran across a musty-smelling copy of that old manuscript and laughed all the way through it because it was so genuinely awful. Really, the only thing to do was enjoy how sweetly terrible it was, and be grateful that no publisher had ever thought ‘the time was right’.

A few months later, I wrote a second novel, Maestro’s Melody. This one was only slightly better than the first. I loved that story so much, I tried to get it right for about five years, but the end result was still rejection. So, not only was the time not right, but the melody was flat as well.

I did all of this in secret …

… because my personal experience is that it takes a certain amount of maturity to be able say to people, “I write romances. They’re intimate, hot, tender, and where appropriate, not so tender. They’re filled with intrigue, laughter, hope and provide an opportunity to disappear into the sheer fantasy of the moment. To marvel at the miracle of love, and the way one human body folds into another.”

Twenty years ago I wasn’t mature or confident enough to do this—and so I wrote in secret.

Life happened and one day the calendar told me that twenty years of family, friends, education and career had come and gone. I had long since abandoned the idea of ever becoming a romance author, until a year ago, when the urge snuck up behind me and caught me in its net once again. Intrigued with this long lost idea, the first thing I did was rewrite Maestro’s Melody (still in secret) and give it a new title. But now I was writing in secret because being twenty years older and at least a tad wiser, not only was I unsure that I could look anyone in the eye and be mature enough to say, “I write romances,” I also didn’t know if I could produce a book that was worthy of the romance genre.

Pleased with my effort to rewrite Maestro’s Melody, I (secretly) took a romance writing course…

Whooooooie but that was hard! During a number of painful and very public classroom critiques, the two author instructors patiently explained to me that I was not ‘there’ yet.

The verdict: great plot but my writing style was too stiff. I was going to have to loosen it up if I wanted to appeal to today’s readers. This chased me even deeper into the closet while (in secret) I tried everything I could think of to loosen up… but I just seemed to get stiffer.

Finally, on the last day of class, I was sitting in the back of the room when I heard a voice whisper into my ear, “You could write erotica. It will act as a lubricant, and your voice will stop sticking.”

My eyes popped wide and I nearly choked because (as you’ve probably guessed by now) if I was a stiff writer (and still writing in secret), the probability that I’d be comfortable writing erotica was a long shot. But that voice was indubitably my muse—and who was I to argue with her?

Two days later, I found a private corner. There, hunched over my computer I wrote a short piece of erotica…

… and then a longer one, and an even longer one. Every sentence shocked me. Not because I think there’s anything wrong with erotica, but because I had no idea it was in me… and there was nothing stiff about my writing … at least not about the dialogue anyway!

The irony was not lost on me that here I was, still a closet romance writer and now I’d gone even deeper into the closet to (secretly) write erotica as a way to loosen up my writing style.

One day, my muse whispered, “Okay, now it’s time to write a contemporary cowboy romance.”

“No way! What do I know about cowboys?”

Not bothering to answer, she said, “And it will be set in the fictional town of Stone Hill, Colorado at the foot of the Rockies.”

“But I’ve only seen the Rockies once… and didn’t you hear me when I said I don’t know anything about cowboys?!”

“Trust me. This will be a great way to combine heat with humor and intrigue. You’ll love doing it.”

So, every spare moment I could find, I was in my darkened corner hunching over the keyboard writing (in secret) a contemporary cowboy romance with erotic elements. When the story was done, I asked a select group of people to (secretly) critique the book. They gave me a boatload of helpful feedback, and joked that their partners were grateful to me for having written the book.

That was the day I stopped writing romances in secret…

… because I began to understand what it was that spoke so to me about romance novels, and what I wanted to create for readers. To me, the romance novel is a reminder of who we are as human beings—human souls who live and love on this earth—who experience through love and sex, just how divine it is to be alive.

I hope you’ll check back later today. I plan to share a bit about the characters of LIBERTY STARR, some excerpts, and what it was like the day Angela James from Carina Press, called!

In the event it’s not obvious… I am thrilled beyond words to be part of Carina’s launch!

Find me at:
Website: www.RebeccaEGrant.com
Blog: blog.RebeccaEGrant.com
Email: Rebecca@RebeccaEGrant.com
I’m also on Facebook and Twitter as Rebecca E Grant

mce_href=Rebecca E. Grant,romance author,women's fiction author,creative nonfiction author,love is unstoppable

**reminder: Commenting on an author’s blog entry/entries for the day will enter you to win a digital copy of their Carina Press title. One winner daily. Commenting on any of the Countdown entries will enter you into the big giveaway for a Carina Press promo prize pack. One winner at end of Countdown.**

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Posted in Authors, Books, Carina Press, Countdown | 27 Comments »