A new release in a new series, and a contest!

I have the very first book in my new series, Star Haven, releasing today! The title is Sinful, as in sinfully sensual. I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I did writing it. Oh, and just for fun I'm going to throw in a CONTEST! I'm going to give a star spinner away to one person who comments on this blog post.

Isn't it cute! It's plastsic so it's fairly durable, and measures 8" across. So, let's see some comments!

Series: Star Haven
Title: Sinful
ISBN : 978-1-60521-328-6
Genres: Sci Fi, Futuristic,
Themes: Magic and Mayhem
Release Date: July 30th, 2010

Author: Anne Kane
http://www.annekane.com/

Publisher URL Changeling Press - Erotic Fiction

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BLURB:

When Breanne is captured by an interstellar bounty hunter, she is furious. Her mission is to rescue a fellow Stargazer who fell prey to pirates, and she can’t do that from the brig of Roark’s space ship.

When she convinces him that they should join forces, though, they find out just how powerful they can be together. The pirates don’t stand a chance against their combined wrath.





EXCERPT:

Amusement danced in Roark’s smoke-gray eyes, and she knew he could sense her uncertainty. She felt her temper rising, but this wasn’t the time to indulge in a tantrum. She needed to get on with her mission, and to do that she needed to outsmart this sinfully sexy bounty hunter.

Reaching behind her, he released her wrists, wrapping the length of plas-tek into a neat coil and tucking it into a pocket. The feel of his turgid shaft digging into her soft belly gave her a sinfully delicious idea. As a Stargazer, she could harness the power generated by sexual encounters, and if she seduced this bounty hunter, she could use his own arrogant power against him. She felt the corner of her mouth curve up as she let her lashes sweep down to hide the calculating gleam in her eyes. “My, you’re a big man. Maybe we can work something out.” She let a note of breathless anticipation creep into her voice while her left hand moved over his chest in a practiced caress.

His eyes darkened as he pulled her in, and his shaft swelled even larger. Breanne relaxed, molding her body against his, and tilted her head. She parted her lips slightly and let the tip of her tongue slide along the edges, leaving them wet and glistening.

“Now that’s more like it.” His arms tightened around her, drawing her even closer as he lowered his head to take her lips in a searing kiss that sent lust coiling deep in the pit of her belly. His tongue slid along the seam of her lips, demanding entrance. Breanne acquiesced, opening her mouth to allow him to plunder at will.

He took immediate advantage, his tongue sweeping in to explore every nook and cranny, sliding along her teeth and probing deep. Not submissive by nature, Breanne used her tongue to challenge him, letting him know how much she wanted him. She felt the heat slide along every nerve when he refused to back down. Most men deferred to her status as part of the ruling Triad, letting her take the lead in sexual encounters.

Roark broke off first, nibbling his way down her neck. His sharp teeth sent darts of liquid heat sliding down her spine, and a soft whimper escaped her.
“Like that, do you?” He chuckled softly and scooped her up in his muscular arms. “I told you I wouldn’t hurt you.”

She blinked, and then realized he was referring to his earlier comment. Making a conscious effort to relax, she raised her arms to wind them around his neck. “I won’t hurt you either.” She favored him with a full smile. “Unless you want me to.”

“You are a feisty little morsel, aren’t you? I can see why Keiro is in such a hurry to get you back.” He bent to toss her onto the sleeping platform.

Breanne rolled over and stretched out on the firm surface. Looking up, she saw the bounty hunter’s amused expression as he stripped off his clothing with a minimum of wasted movement and tossed it carelessly on the floor. She studied his nude body with interest as he stalked toward her. She’d seen her share of naked men, and he was impressive. Heavy muscles covered a large frame, and a jagged scar ran from beneath his left nipple to the edge of his hip. Her gaze went lower, to where his thick shaft jutted out from a nest of dark curls. She licked her lips in anticipation of the energy their union would produce.

“Strip.”

The single word, uttered in a husky growl, sent a shiver of lust spinning down her spine. She got to her feet in the middle of the sleeping platform, letting the natural buoyancy of the platform cause her body sway seductively. Making eye contact, she let a smile play across her lips while she raised her hands to the tiny seals that held the uni-suit closed down the front. Humming an ancient fertility song, she toyed with each seal before releasing them one by one. The taut material sprang apart as each seal gave way, opening a path from neck to thigh.

She watched his eyes darken as her full breasts spilled free of their restraints, and her smile widened. Seduction was one of the first things a Stargazer learned. The bounty hunter didn’t stand a chance. She continued to release the seals, letting her hips sway in time to her humming, and soon she stood before him completely naked. She lifted her arms above her head, the move lifting her breasts.

Roark let his breath out in a loud whoosh, his gaze devouring her full figure. “We may be taking the long route back to Keiro’s.” He reached out a hand and grasped her wrist to gently tug her toward him.


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Write It Down!

WRITE IT DOWN! by Maree Anderson (for Writers Gone Wild)

Hi y'all,

My brain is mush at the moment. Can't even think of the correct words for common, everyday things! I know what I want to say, but all that comes out is stuff like this:

"We have to get that thing done."

"What are you talking about, Mom?"

"You know what I mean. That thing you do when you've taken photos on a camera that isn't digital."

"You mean develop the photos?"

"Yeah. That's what I mean. Develop the photos."

"What photos?"

"The ones on those thingies I gave you to take on your trip thingy."

"You mean the disposable cameras I took to Japan?"

"Yep. Them's the ones."

Tragic. But I think it's because I've been busy staring at the same manuscript, day in, day out, deleting secondary characters, simplifying the plot, deleting unecessary chit-chat, deleting, deleting, deleting! And I'm just not firing on all cylinders. Two snags short of a barbie, as we'd say here in New Zealand. (Snags being sausages, and barbie being a barbeque, just in case you were wondering.)

I'm almost at the end of it now. I'm down to 78,354 words and my "deleted scenes" file shows a grand total of 20,329 words -- don't bother to do the math and try to figure out what I started with, because I've been forced to add words, too. As you do.

Anyway, it's the mushy brain which has led to this post. Because, earlier on today, I came up with a brilliant idea for a post. A topic that would be interesting and insightful and thought-provoking. A topic I could be quite proud of. Go me!

But.... I didn't jot it down and now, after many hours immersed in delete key hell, I can't even remember what the heck that brilliant topic was.

Can we all sympathise and echo my, "Aaaaaaarrrrgh!!!!"

It's like that scene in Mad Men, when the dorky ad guy (who's jealous of Peggy because she always comes up with the good ideas) is working late, racking his brains for a brilliant ad campaign to impress Don Draper. He's drinking and thinking and drinking some more. And then he goes, "Eureka!" (or something similar) and knows he's come up with THE BEST IDEA EVAH!

And he drifts off in a drunken slumber, secure in the knowledge that he's bested Peggy.

Except, he hasn't written his idea down. And when he wakes up the next morning, he can't remember it. So he goes into the meeting and has to admit to Peggy and Don, that he's screwed up. He's expecting a bollocking, but instead he gets sympathy. From both of them. Because both Peggy and Don admit to having made the same mistake.

BTW: there was no drinking involved in my scenario. Just so's we're clear, LOL.

So the moral of this story is: Write that brilliant idea down and pin it to your noticeboard (or wherever)! Because you never know when your brain is gonna turn to mush.

And the only good thing about this episode, is that at least it was only an idea for a blog post that I couldn't recall, not a high concept for a whole book. Because that, my friends, would have provoked far more than just an "Aaaaaaarrrrgh!!!!"

See ya next week!

:-)

Maree

A Taste of the Forbidden

A Taste of the Forbidden is featured in the Summer Soltice Scorchers anthology from Whiskey Creek Press Torrid. www.whiskeycreekpresstorrid.com
This is top selling anthology for WCPT.

This is one of my favorite erotic paranormal romances I've written. Hope you enjoy the excerpt.

A TASTE OF THE FORBIDDEN
By
Tambra Kendall

“This is all your fault.” Jason Devon stood on the back porch and glared at Fetch, his vampire golden retriever. “You just couldn’t leave that cat alone. Now I’ve got meet the feline’s owner to discuss damages to her property.” His fingers bent the note releasing an intoxicating scent in the air. His cock stirred in response as it always did when this particular fragrance
Fetch cocked his head to one side, wagged his tail then went in search of a ball that his fangs hadn’t punctured.
Jason glanced at his watch and cursed. He transported himself to the agreed meeting place, ‘Out of This World’. Standing outside the building, he sensed something different about this restaurant, but couldn’t quite place what it was. Instincts on guard, his muscles tensed as he opened the door and walked inside. Cool air grazed his skin along with her scent. His groin hardened with his resolve. Swallowing a growl of frustration, Jason decided four years of torment would stop right now. No more dreaming or lusting after her.
“Welcome to Out of This World, Jason. Izanna is waiting for you.”
Years of police training and now being, one of the undead taught him to keep his expression closed as he followed the hostess. For the space of a heartbeat, the air crackled with otherworld energy. Jason’s heightened senses caught a nasty maelstrom of undercurrents just waiting for the tiniest spark to ignite and explode. Hell, what had this woman gotten him into?
By the various auras he picked out the vampires, a few shifters—and what made up the category of ‘other’. He never paid attention to this nondescript building surrounded by large old trees, tucked away at the end of the street. Jason realized the further he walked the establishment catered to the elite among non-humans.
“Here is Izanna.” The woman strode away to soothe a growling customer in the corner.
Jason gave Izanna a barely-there smile. His blood heated with lust so intense it took his breath away. Her skin shone, pale as the moon in the night sky, he fisted his hand to keep from reaching out and touching her. Soon, very soon, he’d claim her as no man, or vampire ever had. He’d never experienced this compelling force regarding any woman.
Instead, he crossed his arms and leaned against the heavy oak partition separating the booths. “Thanks for meeting me. Have you decided what I can do to repay you since my dog destroyed your landscaping?”
“Please, sit down.” She motioned to the seat beside her. “I’m Izanna Tremayne. I don’t believe we’ve been properly introduced.” She held out her hand.
He raised it to his lips brushing a light kiss across her skin. A tidal wave of lust threatened to drown him from the innocent gesture. For whatever reason, her unique intoxicating scent branded what was left of his soul. Jason released her hand and slid into the darkened booth keeping his manner calm and cool. The attraction could be one-sided and he didn’t want to make a fool of himself.
Izanna moved across the seat until her thigh touched his. “Forget about the landscaping. The damage wasn’t anything that couldn’t be fixed by my gardening staff.” She leaned closer, pushing her body harder against his. “What I want to discuss is more important—I want to have sex with you, Jason. It’s taken too long for our paths to cross again. I’ve dreamed of you for the past four years. I want you in my bed. And...other places.”
His cock hardened at the erotic promise of her words. Desire burned a potent path in his veins. “I’m yours. Tell me when and where.” This dark corner table works for me. She surprised the hell out of him with her direct approach. This wasn’t what he expected when he walked in moments ago.
“In fifteen minutes, at my home.” She leaned over the tips of her fangs oh-so-lightly scraped his skin as she nibbled the curve of his neck. “Mmmm,” she purred.
A hot sensual rush washed over him the instant her lips and tongue contacted his skin. She whispered directions on how to by-pass her security system. Jason swallowed and tried to keep his other head from rearing up for a quick introduction. Down boy.
Izanna tapped the table with a perfectly manicured nail. “Don’t keep me waiting.”
“I’ll be there.” By the gods, fifteen minutes was too long.
She rose with the grace of a queen and walked away with the sway of a woman with seduction on her mind. His body throbbed and hungered for the exotic Izanna Tremayne. It didn’t matter she proposed sex first. He was damn happy not to have the ugly chore of guessing whether she wanted him or not. Jason asked the server where the closest transport shortcut was located.
She told him to look for the cool blue orb in the alley behind the building. He had a hard-on from hell. Before sat down, he’d located the exits—some old habits never die. Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out a twenty-dollar bill, tossed it on the table and left through the closest door.
Once more instincts from his previous job, now honed as a vampire, came to the fore as he stepped into the night. The hair at the back of his neck stood at attention blaring a warning, He scanned the area. Nothing.
One-step before he reached the destination point, someone or something grabbed his throat.
The overwhelming stench of sulphur made his eyes and throat burn. He fought but the lack of air sapped his strength. Finally, the grip loosened enough for him to breathe.
“Izanna is mine!” The raspy voice dripped with evil power and halitosis.
Claws pierced his neck while intense blows from fists made of steel rained down on his face, shoulders and back. Each hit left a burning mark and Jason hissed in pain. What was beating the shit out of him? And why couldn’t he fight back? All of his abilities were useless. At last, he managed an elbow to the groin of his attacker and tried to shove it away. A hit to the side of his head blurred his vision, he heard his attacker whisper in a cold voice, “Touch Izanna and I will kill you vampire.” A blow between his shoulder blades and a hard shove sent Jason sprawling on the ground.
Too weak to teleport home, Jason lay on shards of broken bottles. The jagged edges sliced his battered flesh. His face stung from tiny pebbles beneath his cheek. Odors of garbage and old urine reeked from the rough asphalt assaulted his advanced sense of smell. As if, his close up encounter of road-kill breath wasn’t enough for one night. He had to protect Izanna from this asshole.
White-hot rage surged through Jason. He willed his body to move, his muscles refused. A blood red haze flashed behind his eyes before he passed out.

Hugs,
Tambra Kendall
www.tambrakendall.com

Beefcake is Timeless!

Since our house fire, my muse has left me high and dry. I've been working hard to get my sexy back, both personally and in my writing. It's been weird, trying to find my stride as an author again, but the good news is, all is well on the homefront for the first time in a looooong time. The word count is slowly picking back up.

I don't know if it has anything to do with the trauma our family suffered over the last year, or if my tastes are shifting for other reasons, but lately, dark and angsty isn't doing it for me in the sexy dude department. In fact, I'm finding myself a bit maxed out on the typical, dark, intense paranormal hero. Pretty scary given paranormal is my genre of choice!

I find myself writing a paranormal hero who is *gasp* blond and blue eyed. One who isn't afraid to laugh even in the darkest situation. Still, I can't help but wonder if I'm taking a risk by bucking the current trend in heroic beefcake. Studying at the romance books on the shelves suggests my nordic hero might not be well accepted by readers. Let's face it. Those images are combed over by marketing departments who know what readers are buying.

Dude, where are the Nordic vikings? The golden knights in shining armor?

Standards of perfection change. I imagine our tastes in what gets our motors purring does, too. Is it time for a change? Are you ok with the status quo, or are you also hunting for a bit of strange in your beefcake?

In my quest to get y'all talking about the kind of hero that is an "auto buy" for you, I've offered up a(gratuitous) brief history of beefcake.

****WARNING! This is R rated material, folks!****



***If you'll be at the RWA literacy signing next week, please stop by and say hello! If you're the first to tell me you're a WGW reader, and you've left a comment in the last month, you'll win a mother of pearl and gemstone mermaid pendant from Offerings

***

To Prologue Or Not To Prologue?

To Prologue Or Not To Prologue? That is the question! by Maree Anderson (for Writers Gone Wild)

Hi y'all,

Just found out my first full-length novel, From The Ashes, will be a December 2010 Red Sage release -- woohoo! This one's my take on a space opera with a rather surprising alien hero ;-) And I can't wait to see what the cover artist comes up with. Watch this space *VBG*

And I've just contracted another full-length novel with Red Sage. It's a fantasy called Scent Of A Man, and I'm in the throes of delete key hell at the moment, trying to lose about 20,000 words. It started out at around 90,000 and I need to get it to around 70-75,000. Which means that among other things, two of my favorite secondary characters are gonna have be sacrificed so that I can refocus on the hero and the heroine. *sobs piteously*

I know the story will be far better for doing this, but hey, it still hurts. The things we writers must do, huh?

Anyhoo, while I'm on the subject of Scent Of A Man, it has a short, 180 word long prologue. It introduces the heroine and let's the reader know that she's just arrived in enemy territory, and she's on a mission to rescue the hero before he "ripens". Chapter One launches with the hero's story, and remains in his POV for the next few chapters.

Now, I'm undecided about prologues, even though many of my manuscripts feature them, LOL. And the reason I'm undecided is because I see so much conflicting advice about these little beasties from editors and agents and readers.

Some hold the opinion that if the prologue really needs to be there, it should darn well be chapter one! And that prologues are often a plot device, and the information in them would be better served being woven throughout the story, or introduced as flashbacks, rather than 'dumped' at the beginning.

Reviewers, too, seem to be divided about the whole prologue thing. For example, with Let Sleeping Demons Lie, because it's the second in a series, I used the prologue to re-introduce reader-favorite, Asmodeus, and to let readers glimpse his machinations that throw the heroine and the hero in the deep end and thus spark the entire story. I'd like to believe that this prologue's purpose was, to quote agent Nathan Bransford, "to introduce a crucial scene in the backstory that will impact the main plot." (And if you'd like to read what Nathan has to say on the subject, then here's the link to his post about prologues.)

The majority consensus is that my prologue for Let Sleeping Demons Lie works and sets the whole story up very well indeed. But I've had one reviewer advise readers to "skip it!" and another comment that she found it confusing. (BTW, you can read the prologue for yourself on my website if you're at all curious.)

So here're my questions:

As a reader, how do you feel about prologues?

As a writer, how do you feel about prologues?

This is important stuff, people, because if I do decide to delete the prologue from Scent Of A Man, that's a whole 180 words off my total ;-)

Cheers!

Maree

Memorable romance heroines

When you read a romance or an erotic romance, what sort of heroine do you like to read about? Are they independent or insecure? Self-conscious or confident? Tough or sweet?

I can't stand heroines that do nothing but whimper when things get tough and pray for the hero to come along and save the day. I want them to give it their best shot, whether it's with their fists or their brains. Preferably both.

That being said, I don't like reading about perfect heroines either. I find imperfect heroines much more interesting, and I tend to care about them more. I like them to have quirks or some sort of insecurity they have to wrestle with. Maybe she's got weight issues, a dark secret she has to guard, or is struggling with PTSD from a traumatic experience she's had. Maybe she's fighting depression or some physical disability. I enjoy heroines like that the best, especially when an author shows them working through all those things throughout the book and has them come out on top in the end. Immediately coming to mind for me are Lisa Marie Rice's heroines in her Midnight series. I thought they were fantastic!

I'm crafting a heroine now with a physical disability and a whole lot of mental trauma to overcome. So help me out--what do you love in a heroine and what turns you off completely? Or, tell me what you love and hate in a hero. I hope to use some of your ideas in my new WIP :)

Hope you're all having a good summer!
Kaylea :)

The Jealous Editor

We have a special guest with us today, an editor from my new publishing imprint, Passion In Print. Please help me welcome Tess MacKall!

A big hello to everyone here at Writer’s Gone Wild! Many thanks to Jennifer L. Hart for allowing me to guest blog today. I’m Tess MacKall, senior editor with Passion In Print Press, the new heterosexual erotic romance imprint of MLR Press, LLC, owned by author-publisher, Laura Baumbach. July 10th was our official opening day and we’re all very excited about the first books rolling off the presses! So we’d love to have you stop by and take a look at what PIP has to offer.

I started working for PIP in late February and every minute has been an absolute labor of love. The best part of my job is that I get to read really great books. Books like the one Jennifer L.Hart contracted with us. Yes, Jennifer is a PIP author and we’re thrilled to have her on board!

What I want to talk about today is what I love most about reading. And it all boils down to this: It’s NOT my life! There’s never a kid screaming at me for attention, no laundry to be done, and the oil in the car never needs changing. On the rare occasion that these normal everyday occurrences do indeed happen in a book, they seem to go a lot more smoothly than they do in real life too. For instance, if a heroine in a book goes to get her oil changed, she walks out a chapter later with the sexy Texan who just happens to own the oil company that produced the oil for her car!

Now that’s mighty fine writing!

I’ve faced it. My life is boring. I read to escape the doldrums. Quite frankly, I’m jealous of all these heroines meeting these sexy hunks and walking off into the sunset with them. I’ve been bitten by the little green monster. Does anyone besides me ever have character envy?

Someone told me it was all about thinking bigger. You have to dream big. Well, I’ll try anything once. Twice if I like it. *snicker* I took my friend’s advice and on my shopping trip the other day I tried thinking bigger. Tried a more positive attitude. It was time to broaden my horizons.

The first thing I did was to switch grocery stores. Yeah, I’d gotten into a rut, and all a part of my plan to broaden my horizons, drove across town to a new, trendier store (Can a grocery store be trendy?).

I’ll say this for the new place, the fruit was fresher. Unfortunately, my shopping cart wasn’t accidentally slammed into by the handsome homicide detective investigating the murder of my next-door neighbor. Which, of course, would have meant I was a suspect in the crime or possessed a psychic ability he wanted to reluctantly ask me to use (he doesn’t really believe in all that mumbo jumbo but his case has stalled) to help him find the killer—a psychic ability, I might add, that I only channel on special occasions and in the presence of hunky cops.

Fast forward to the meat department. Nice layout. No “reduced for quick sale” meats in these coolers! But the prices? Where’s that Texas cattle baron? Shouldn’t he be walking up by now and asking me, “What’s for dinner?” And, of course, I would reply, “Beef!” Chicken was on sale. Ten-pound bags. Really cheap.

A quick sweep of the store. An item here, an item there. And as I turned down every aisle I thought about him. You know who I’m talking about. That mysterious stranger, buffed to the nines, who smiles at you and suddenly your legs are made of rubber. A guy stocking soup nodded to me. That’s something, isn’t it?

Off to the check out! The bagger was kind of cute. Little too young for me, though. Besides, he only had eyes for the check-out girl across the way. They kept grinning and giggling at each other. Well, at least they were on their way to a walk into the sunset.

I got to my car and unloaded my haul, looking down at my purchases. You know…thinking big actually does work. I patted the top of the economy-size jar of mayo, the giant jar of pickles nearby, and smiled at that big ol’ bag of chicken. In my head I worked out the week’s menu. Chicken ‘n’ dumplings, fried chicken, barbeque chicken, chicken salad… My family was going to love me! *snicker*

Until life starts imitating art, I guess I’ll stick to chocolate! I bought a really BIG bag. (And it was ON SALE!)

Thanks for having me here at Writer’s Gone Wild. I hope you’ve all enjoyed a glimpse into the sexy and mysterious life of an editor. *snicker* Stop by Passion In Print Press and find your hero. He’s waiting! Tess
Tess MacKall, Senior Editor
Passion in Print
An Imprint of MLR Press, LLC.
http://mlrpress.com/

Any questions for Tess about writing, editing, Passion In Print or where she scored that big bag of chocolate? And if you are interested in finding out just what PIP is producing, historical romance author Nita Wick is giving away a copy of her PIP book A Real Husband this week at the Laundry List. Leave a comment for a chance to win!

What The Doctor Said

WHAT THE DOCTOR SAID by Maree Anderson (for Writers Gone Wild)

Hi y'all.

After a two-day comedy intensive workshop run by the amazing Steve Kaplan, I came away with a new appreciation of what makes good comedic viewing.

Not to mention that I'm now in awe of just what a groundbreaking movie Groundhog Day was -- and still is!

Here's a few little gems from Mr Kaplan himself:

• Drama helps us dream about who we can be.
• Comedy tells the truth about people. It helps us live with who we are.
• Comedy is an ordinary guy (or girl!) struggling against insurmountable odds, lacking many of the required skills or tools to win, and never giving up hope.
• Comedy fails when it's only about the jokes.

Although I definitely could, I won't go on and on about what a fantastic course this was. Suffice it to say, if you get a chance to hear this man speak, then go for it. You won't regret it!

Anyway, as soon as I got home on Saturday night after the course, I whipped upstairs to check my emails -- as you do. And wouldn't you know it, I still haven't got round to calling the electrician in to fix the stairwell lights. I mean, who the heck designed the place and put the lights up so high, that none of my chairs will reach, and I risk life and limb to change the bulbs? I was foolish enough to have a go at changing one of them -- bloody scary! -- but even with a new bulb, the light still doesn't 't work, so an electrician with a head for heights is on my to-do list. Has been for a while. Note to self: call the damned electrician already!

So after I'd checked that I hadn't missed out on anything important, I turned off the lights upstairs and walked down the stairs in the dark. Like I've done soooo very many times before. Dumb, I know. But hey, I haven't come to grief before. Famous last words. Because this time, I missed the bottom step and sprained my ankle. Which hurt like forty bastards. Meaning I spent the next two hours laid up on the couch with an icepack on the weird lump that appeared on my ankle. And I knew it was a weird lump coz the other ankle sure didnt' have a matching one.

Why am I telling you this? There is a point, I promise!

The next morning, the darned ankle was still darned sore and the lump was still there. Me, being me, I was inclined to ignore it. But DH made me go to A&E. Which royally sucked because 1) it's Sunday morning, and 2) it's our 18th wedding anniversary. I was half expecting a day full of x-rays and waiting round and other unpleasant stuff so I absolutely didn't want to go. Waahhhh! But like a good little girl, I sucked it up -- because mean old DH insisted -- headed off to A&E to get it checked out.

Turned out it was only a bad sprain and the lump was just a result of torn ligaments. Phew! And while I was thanking the nice doctor and telling him I hoped the rest of his cases that day were as uncomplicated as mine, I happened to mention that A&E wasn't exactly my chosen place to spend my 18th wedding anniversary. As you do.

And here's the really cool thing -- the thing that made me kinda glad this sprained ankle happened and I'd been seen by this particular doctor. Because he smiled at me and said, "You know, wedding anniversaries are special. Birthdays? They come around every year without any effort on your part. But a wedding anniversay? That takes effort -- real effort. Eighteen years? That's something to be proud of. Happy wedding anniversary."

He is so right. It takes effort to be with someone. It takes effort to make a relationship -- any relationship -- work. In fact, anything good takes effort. There is no easy fix.

Thanks, Doc! You might not remember that comment you made to me, but I sure will. And it's made this particular wedding anniversary one to remember.

See you next week!

:-)

Maree

Aussie Rural Romance wtih Karlene Blakemore-Mowle

Please welcome fabulous Aussie author Karlene Blakemore-Mowle here to WGW. She writes romantic suspense (Fallout is her first novella with The Wild Rose Press) and Australian rural romance. What's that, you're wondering, right? I'm so glad you asked :) To answer that burning question, here's Karly, and she's going to give away a digital copy of her debut rural romance, The Cattleman's Runaway Bride, to one lucky commenter. Plus she's going to give us the inside scoop on a major publishing deal she just signed. From Down Under, here she is. Take it away, Karly!

G’day! For those of you who may not have guessed, I’m from Australia and I write Australian rural romance.

So what’s an Australian rural romance? I hear my North American friends asking in that fantastic range of accents. Well, I guess basically, they’re any romance set in rural areas, as opposed to a metropolitan setting. They’re also known here as contemporary rural fiction and a whole range of other snazzy titles that I really have no idea about! But rural romance kinda sums it up nicely I think.

I started out writing romantic suspense, trying to find where I belonged, and I’ve had two successes with that line. Fallout is an e-book released earlier this year, and coming in October, Operation Summer Storm.

I have to jump in here and point out that this next book features Royal Marines, so of course you know I'll be checking that one out too! Sorry to interrupt, Karly. Carry on :)

Both of these titles are with The Wild Rose Press and I still can’t wipe the smile from my face when I think about the fact I’m now a published author!

However, I’m a country girl through and through and while I love writing action packed stories set in far away places, it’s writing about small country towns, in places I grew up in, that I’ve now found myself enjoying.

The Cattleman’s Runaway Bride, is the story of one woman’s determination to fight for her dreams. As a teenager, Rilee knew all she wanted to do was work on her family property, just as every generation of Henderson’s before her had done, but her world is turned upside down when she loses her alcoholic father under tragic circumstances, and her family property all on the same day. As an adult with her goals firmly set in her mind, and her dream within reach, things begin to unravel when she meets Trey Delacourt. But Trey has secrets in his past, that if revealed, will destroy everything they think they have together.

I’ve since written three other rural romances, and to my delight, have discovered that I’ve been able to combine my love of romantic suspense into these next three titles. The first of my new books has been picked up by a major Australian publisher and I couldn’t be happier!

I’m not sure how it works in other places, but the big problem authors have in Australia is that we have only a handful of large publishing houses and even less agents. The publishers won’t accept manuscripts unless you are represented by an agent, and it’s near impossible to get an agent! So as you can imagine, it’s extremely difficult to get your work seen by any of the major publishers.

Luckily for me, one publisher, Allen & Unwin, have a thing they call The Friday Pitch. Once a week you get a chance to email them a brief pitch for a book and if you don’t hear back from them within the week, then you haven’t been successful. Imagine my surprise when I heard back! The publisher requested a full MS and within a few weeks, I got an email saying… I have to take Shimmer into a meeting with all the other department heads and get their approval first, but I think I can confidently say we’ll be offering you a contract by tomorrow!!!

I was jumping like a crazy person around the house at this, until a sudden thought occurred to me, that what if they said no? So for minute (maybe a micro second) I calmed down and decided to wait until the official word before I said anything. It was the longest 24 hours of my life!

I don’t think the enormity of it all has actually hit me yet--this book will have national coverage; I now have publicity people to help launch it when the time comes, I have more editors than I know their titles, helping me with the whole edit process…it’s just overwhelming! I can’t tell you how excited and humbled I feel when I think about this book. I’m very, very, excited! Although I still sometimes think I’m going to get an email saying... Oops, I’m sorry, there was a mistake, we thought you were someone else- your book sucks, it was the other person’s book we liked.

It will be released early 2011 and with any luck soon after, maybe an American publisher will buy the rights. Well--we can dream!

Thanks you so much for having me here and please feel free to look me up on facebook and drop by my blogs to see what else I’ve been up to. You can find me here, and here . I look forward to hearing from you.

Thanks for coming by, Karly! Please keep us posted about your work, and mega congrats on the big book deal.

Okay gang, go ahead and give our friend from Down Under your questions and comments. She's really sweet, so don't be shy, and I know you'll enjoy her work.

Happy reading,
Kaylea Cross :)

Book Signing Odyssey

I've heard many people say that this industry isn't about talent as much as persistence. I have to say that they go hand in hand.

As many of you know, HOW TO LOSE A DEMON IN 10 DAYS is my debut novel and it's been such a learning experience about the process, the industry and the market. Like any learning experience, its had its pitfalls where it's easy to get discouraged.

The town where I live has a used bookstore that's very small and one indie bookstore. I'm a big supporter of all bookstores, indie and corporate. I love books, the purveying of books, anything to do with books. I know the owner of the indie bookstore and he'd offered to have me for an author event and signing. This was thrilling and a bit surprising. His store usually caters to children and YA, though they carry a bit of everything. For instance, they had the author of Cross My Heart and Hope To Spy. (I totally got my signed copy. *g*) Well, I emailed him to tell him I was ready to set up my signing and I didn't hear anything back. So I wanted a few weeks and emailed again in case the email got lost like a spamburger. Nothing. I was talking to him on Twitter the other day and when I mentioned the signing, suddenly, he wasn't chatting on Twitter anymore--left in the middle of a conversation. (If he changed his mind, that's fine, but I think it was unprofessional of him not to say so.)

I am a little sad that the Waldenbooks where I dreamed of walking in and pointing and saying that's my book has closed. We've lost a lot of things with the economy the way it is and long distance landlords not understanding if they keep raising the rent on commercial properties, the stores will just leave. But that's another blog. *g*

Anyway, I turned my attention to the corporate bookstores. As of now, Books A Million doesn't know if they're going to carry my book and they won't know until October. It took me two weeks to finally get in touch with someone, even going in the store in person. Of course, once I did get someone to speak to me, the manager was very helpful. He told me even if they weren't going to carry it, he was going to see what he could do because I was a local author.

I was starting to get very discouraged.

It took me four weeks to get in touch with someone at Barnes and Noble. The event coordinator was a lovely delight and she had all sorts of ideas and knowing that this was my first signing, made sure to explain everything expected of me and outline what I could expect from them. Her plate was so full, she needed three more to catch the overflow. She also gave me a very plum day. I will be giving her a "hostess" gift. Maybe a Got Demon? mug or tote. With chocolate.

I still haven't gotten in touch with anyone at Borders at three different locations. Since I live close to the state line, I was thinking of doing some appearances in MO and KS.

I leave messages, call, go in, leave my card, email, voicemail....

It's not that these people, for the most part (see above), don't want to have me. They are just as busy as I am. Maybe more so.

The events are almost as difficult to coordinate as getting your foot in the door to start with, but they are so vital to your marketing and showing your publisher you're willing to haul cookies in support of your book.

So, not only do you have to be persistent and never give up the struggle to get your book through the door, you have to keep that fire in your belly after you're here. Remember, just like the publisher is looking for new talent and revenue, so are the bookstores. They want you to come in and bring your fanbase, they want you to sell your book in their store because it will raise their revenue too.

Never give up!

Making Time to Write

Tambra Kendall for Writers Gone Wild

I’m slowly getting back into writing. The best way for me to do this is to fall back on the areas that keep me centered: teaching and writing down daily word counts.

If anyone is interested in taking any online workshops, I’ll be teaching The Basics of Romance Writing the 19th of this month at Savvy Authors.

Refilling the creative is so important. I know I’ve blogged about this before but it strikes at the heart of what we do as writers.
If your daily activities are crowding out your writing and it becomes just another stress in your life, that can lead to writer’s block.
Hell, some people have to schedule time in for sex. How sad is that?
Putting the romance back in your own life is a good place to start. Hey, we're romance writers, we have great imaginations. Besides, your spouse or signigicant other will probably thank you.

One thing I’ve had to learn is to say no to people. Did it piss a few people off? Yes, it did. Setting a boundary you can live with is the first step to reclaiming writing time as well as your sanity. Setting boundaries is something many people aren’t taught and their lives would be so much better if they knew how important it is.

The simple fact is this: Writers write. You can't be a writer by osmosis. It's BICHOK: butt in chair hands on keyboard. Remember to write what you love.

Places to write: doctor’s office, while your kids are at soccer/dance/whatever practice. An AlphaSmart is great for this. They’re light and run on 3 double AA batteries. Perhaps you have little ones: try a local church’s Mother’s Day Out program or exchange watching kids with another mother. When I worked full time, I used to write on my lunch hour and late at night after I took care of everyone else. The only time I could fit in for me was 10-11 pm.

Slow progress is better than no progress. Keep a notebook handy to scribble down plot ideas. This helps the creativity stay alive.

With everyone’s lives are a chaotic whirl of activity, no wonder we’re all stressed. Making time to write shouldn’t be a chore but something to look forward to. I hope some of these suggestion help get you on the right path of producing more pages and more stories.

Hugs,
Tambra

Contests - I love them!

No, not entering them. I love having contests. I love planning them. I love seeing how many people enter them. I love finding prizes that tie in with the themes of my books. I love everything about them.



When I sold my first manuscript, I had no idea that I'd have to learn promotions. Luckily I had alot of help from my publishers and fellow authors. Promoting is time consuming and can be very boring. Contest are one form of promotion that I enjoy.



When Romance Junkies asked if I wanted to participate in their Summer Contest, I jumped at the chance. I'm promoting my latest book Sex and Chocolate: Dark Kisses so finding the right prize was easy - a copy of the e-book and a box of Dark Chocolates to munch on while you read it. For thoses of you who like to enter contests, the information is below.





The RJ Summer Contest is here:

http://www.romancejunkies.com/contests.html

My contest is on the page

http://www.romancejunkies.com/summersplashcontest/postcard2.html

Here is a link directly to my contest

http://www.romancejunkies.com/summersplashcontest/AnneKane.htm

Win a Copy of Relentless

This Friday marks the official release date for book 4 of my military romantic suspense series, Relentless. Books 3 and 4 released super close together, but I'm cool with that since the heroes in them are twins. This one's set in my hometown of Vancouver, so I'm especially attached to it. But since Rhys is a gorgeous wounded warrior, uber protective of his woman, and former Delta...*fans self*

Oh, and did I mention this one's rated HOT for a good reason?

Relentless is available in print now, but the digital version doesn't release until Friday. To celebrate, I'm going to give away a PDF version. Have a look at the blurb and excerpt, and leave a comment for me about what your favorite branch of the military is and why, or why you love military heroes. Heck, just talk to me about military and SPECOPS men in general :)

Blurb: Former Delta Force operator Rhys Sinclair defied the odds by recovering from a traumatic brain injury that should have killed him. Given the chance to repay the beautiful doctor who saved his life by guarding hers, he can’t say no--even if it means facing an unknown threat from the cunning terrorist his CIA-sanctioned team had been hunting in Afghanistan. The catch is, she can't know about it without blowing their cover.

Trauma surgeon Neveah Adams is finally putting her life back together after her horrific experience in Afghanistan. Giving the keynote speech at a medical conference in Vancouver is her starting point. With Rhys there to watch over her she feels safe for the first time in months, and her biggest problem is trying to hide her intense feelings for him.

But Rhys knows something Neveah doesn’t. The terrorist who targeted her in Kabul is coming after her again, and he’s relentless enough to ensure all his past mistakes are erased with one final strike. Now that the nightmare from her past has resurfaced, Neveah has no choice but to put her trust in the one man who has the ability to break her heart, never knowing an assassin is closer than they realize.

Excerpt:
“Damn it,” Rhys muttered, coming off the couch. Her eyes widened and she backed up a step, but he kept going. “You’re not listening to me—I don’t want an apology.” Reaching out, he took hold of her upper arms and pulled her until her breasts brushed his chest.

Neveah’s eyes were huge as she gazed up at him. “What—what do you want?”

More than he’d ever imagined wanting. He had no clue what to do with his feelings for her, but all he knew was they were getting stronger and weren’t going to go away. This was a whole new world of unknowns. “You had every reason in the world to go back to New York and put everything behind you, but you stayed. Not even to be with Sam, but for me.” His eyes bored into hers, refusing to let her shrink away from the truth. “Tell me why you did it.”

“I…” She licked her lips, staring up into his eyes.

“Because you operated on me? You felt responsible for me? What?”

“A-all those things,” she whispered, then hesitated and bit her lip to keep from continuing.

“So that’s it?” He was ready to explode.

“You know it’s not.”

Yeah, but he wanted her to say it out loud so he knew he had it right. “Tell me.”

She broke eye contact and stared into the base of his throat. “Because of my personal…attachment to you.”

The whispered admission knocked the breath out of his lungs. “Nev. Look at me.”

She hesitated, but then raised her head. Her eyes were wide and her heart was thudding hard against his chest. Was she actually afraid that he’d reject her or something? That he’d laugh at her?

He shouldn’t touch her at all, but they were way past that now, and he couldn’t keep pretending he didn’t need this as much as she seemed to. It didn’t matter that everything between them had been forged out of dramatic and emotionally charged circumstances that were no basis for a relationship. It didn’t even matter than he wasn’t good enough for her or that he’d never been in a serious relationship before. All he knew was she was there in front of him with her heart in her big blue eyes and he was going to die if he didn’t kiss her.

Moving slow so he wouldn’t startle her, he took her delicate face in his hands. Nev was subconsciously wary of him, so he had to be careful not to crowd her. Keeping that firmly in mind, he leaned down to kiss her. Her sharply indrawn breath was her only protest as he brought his mouth to hers. A quiet brushing of lips, to let her know that no matter how much he wanted her, he had complete control over his strength and would be gentle with her. In response, Nev slid her arms around his neck and returned the kiss, her lips soft and warm, tasting of spearmint as he slid his tongue inside to stroke hers.

She let out a breathless moan and wiggled closer, setting him completely on fire with the way her firm body pressed full length against him, soft breasts pushed against his chest and one knee sliding between his, not touching his groin, but close enough to have him rock hard in his dress pants. And aching to pull up her dress, unzip his fly and push into her.

His arms went around her back, one hand coasting up her spine to cradle the back of her head in his palm to hold her as close as he could. The heavy weight of her thick, shiny hair spilled over his arms and shoulders, enveloping him in a luscious, scented cloud. His starved senses feasted on the sensory input. God, he’d been empty and cold for so long… And Neveah was the heat he needed to melt the core of ice inside him. The strength of that need shocked him.

Her fingers crept up to cradle his head as she angled her mouth for deeper contact, caressing the sensitive inside of his mouth. Her fresh, lemony scent enveloped him, swirling through his consciousness in another layer of sensation. She smelled good enough to take a bite out of.

Tamping down his rising hunger, he took a little more, still in control of his needs. But the beast was there inside him, prowling restlessly. Her mouth was so soft and inviting, the little moans coming from her throat turning his muscles to steel. The dark part of his nature wanted to push her onto her back on the floor and completely dominate her with his power.

He wanted to watch her eyes flare with arousal and the tiniest bit of hesitance as she realized how helpless she was, then take her apart with a well executed seduction campaign that left her writhing and begging him to take her. And then, when she was twisting beneath him and blind with pleasure, he’d take her hard and deep until she came over and over again. Christ, he could see it happening in his mind as he kissed her, fighting to stay mellow and be a gentleman.

Neveah arched her back and pressed her breasts into his chest, moaning as she rubbed against him with a feline motion of enjoyment.

God. Rhys tightened his hold on her hair and clamped down on his baser needs to pin her flat beneath his weight. Just kissing her was the most erotic experience of his life, but the driving need to dominate kept getting in the way. It scared him. He didn’t want to do anything to frighten her or destroy the fragile trust she had in him, but if they kept this up he wasn’t sure he could hold on. She awakened needs in him that no one else ever had. With Nev, he wanted more than he’d ever wanted before. He wanted to possess her. Literally, and with a power that shocked him. He wanted her submission and her surrender, her passion. God dammit, he wanted her soul.

Shaken, Rhys disengaged gently and moved back, gritting his teeth at the way she whimpered and reached for him. Wanting more. He closed his eyes. That’s what he wanted; for her to need him with every cell in her being, and for her to feel empty without his touch.

What kind of a selfish bastard was he, to want that from her?

He sucked in a breath when she ignored the gentle pressure of his hands in her hair, holding her away, and leaned in to set her lips against his throat. Her tongue flicked out to tease his skin, making his fists tighten in her hair. She had no clue what she was doing to him. No idea what he wanted to do to her or how close to the edge of his control he was. Or what would happen if that darker side won out.

*End of excerpt*

Whew! Rhys is very intense, and he was one of my favorite characters to write about because he's constantly wrestling his inner demons. So now drop a line and let me know what you think of him!

Happy reading,
Kaylea Cross
www.kayleacross.com
www.kayleacross.blogspot.com

Is the grope worth the slap?

Come play a little game of pretend with me. Imagine you are a teenage boy, riddled with hormones and settled in a romantic spot with your first love. Drive in, make out spot, whatever. (I got parked in a lot of cul-de-sacs, so I'm winging in here.) All sorts of thoughts are zinging through your head, like "Does she want this as much as I do," or "I have to have her home in fifteen minutes or her father is gonna flip," and of course,"How far will she let me go?"

Now that I've given the chills to all of you with teenagers, try to imagine our hero's state of mind. He's really a good guy, and yes he actually does love this girl but his body is screaming at him like a big old fishwife to get moving here and do something already.

Which brings us to the topic of the day; the calculated risk. Doesn't matter what genre of fiction you are reading, all protagonist have to assimilate information, mull it around in his or her brain and then act as he or she sees fit. Often times in romance writers focus on the conflict between what the brain tells the hero/ heroine to do and what the heart insists is the right course of action.

This choice, and how the protagonist responds to it, is one of the most revealing ways to asses a character. Is she bold enough to reach for the moon or is the fear of rejection to great an obstacle? I've read books where the same choice is given to the heroine over and over and it isn't until the end where she decides, that yes, the grope really is worth the slap. It's not about doing the smart thing or even the right thing, it's about putting yourself out there.

In contemporary novels the risk is rejection, whether you have a once burned, twice shy hero or a jaded bachelor who doesn't believe in love. In action-driven novels, alpha heroes and heroines do this in almost every scene. But instead of risking their hearts, they're risking lives, their own, the one they love, or maybe a whole slew of innocents. Paranormal, historical, genre doesn't matter here because all great novels include that moment where the reader finds out just what the characters they've come to love are made of.

So back to out teenage male. If he kicks it up a notch, goes for the gold, he's risking getting a big old hand print embedded on his cheek. That's worst case scenario. Best case, his girlfriend is just as willing and they see how far they can get in the fourteen minutes and twenty seven seconds left. Or maybe she's a time traveling space alien who wants to dine on him preying mantis-style after copulation. Sometimes the variables aren't all cut and dried either. What would you do?

Concerning Quirky Queries

CONCERNING QUIRKY QUERIES by Maree Anderson (for Writers Gone Wild)

Hi ya'll,

I'm out of bed and back with butt on chair, fingers on keyboard. Aren't you all thrilled? I can just see you crying, "Happy joy" o_0.

You might recall that last week's pathetic, flu-ridden attempt at a semi-humorous blog post mentioned a blog called SlushPile Hell, where "A grumpy literary agent wades through query-fails".

Here's another little wince-worthy treat from the blog:

"I found your company in the 2010 Guide to Literary Agents and thought I would query you despite the fact that you are not representing children’s books. I figured the worst thing you can say is “no” or not respond at all."

No, the worst thing I can say is “See you on SlushPile Hell.”

Okay, so you might think I'm mean to laugh about this. And you might think I'm a real bitch to even subscribe to a blog which pokes fun at what agents and editors often term "query fails".

But here's the thing: Writing queries is a craft you have to learn, just like writing books. And formatting manuscripts. And following submission guidelines. And handling rejection. And doing revisions. And self-promotion. And all the myriad of other stuff that writers, and those who go on to be published, have to learn.

I've written many a query in my time. And when I look back now at those early ones, I just want to cringe. They're frankly, terrible! Worse, they're embarassing -- dive-under-the-quilt-and-stay-there-for-the-next-week embarassing, even. I soooo wish that I'd had access to blogs like this one, and other informative agent blogs, so that I didn't make a complete dork of myself back in those early days.

But alas, I started out with the 2004 edition of Jeff Herman's Guide to Book Publishers, Editors, and Literary Agents and I thought I was pretty darn savvy! Oh, how wrong I was, LOL.

I think the dumbest thing I ever did in a query was to state that, "The first draft of this manuscript finalled in such-and-such an award." If I remember rightly, what I was trying to get across in the query was that if the first draft finalled, now that I've had time to revise it and apply what I've learned since, then it's gotta be heaps better, right? Right?

Oh. My. God. Like, the agent didn't look that and think, "Warning! Be afraid. Be very afraid. This is a woman who sends out her work before it's polished to within an inch of its sorry life."

I even seem to remember once querying an entire trilogy in the one query letter. Like, I thought they might be impressed that I'd completed three whole books. Yanno, a trilogy! Woohoo! Sign me up! I really must be serious about this writing stuff, huh?

And I can just see the agent doing a headdesk and going, "Riiight. Like that's a clever career move. What if I can't sell the first book? The other two are just dead in the water. Duh. And besides, have you seen how long these fricking things are? Too damn long. And then some."

Little wonder she sent me back a form rejection. Mind you, it was ironic that her form letter said something like, "We're not interested in acquiring smaller books by debut authors at this time," and each of the books in my trilogy was up around 150,000 words at that stage. (This was before I learned the value of that all-important delete key, BTW.) But hey, at least I got to chuckle over the "smaller books" comment.

So please forgive me for snickering over these rather quirky queries that this poor, benighted, understandably grumpy, anonymous agent posts as "query-fails". I figure I kinda deserve to snicker because hey, I've done the hard yards and now I'm much the wiser for my failed queries. At least, I hope I am ;-)

Anyone willing to share their dumbest moment when writing a query?

I promise, I'll snicker very quietly. And most likely squirm in my chair, because doubtless I've also been there, written that!

:-)
Maree