A big thank you to Delilah Devlin for hosting me on her blog. It’s an exciting day, as my new series, Hawaiian Heroes, debuted yesterday at Samhain Publishing.
This series is a new sub-genre for me. It’s still paranormal, and still red hot romance. But the story takes place in contemporary Hawaii, on the Big Island’s beautiful Kona coast.
Writing the story was noooo hardship. There were many cold, dark, rainy Pac NW days and evenings when I sat down at my computer and booted up Pandora Internet Radio with my personal Hawaiian station, and was instantly transported back to the warm, humid, flower-scented islands.
In fact, music can be an incredible mood enhancer. My personal soundtrack for writing the book includes such Hawaiian music greats as:
Keali’i Reichel www.youtube.com/watch?v=_YPoL5-3kZ4
Israel Kamakawiwo’ole, better known as Iz www.youtube.com/watch?v=OkFZ75V27rs
The Brothers Cazimero www.youtube.com/watch?v=GO44V3W9ULw
and my favorite, Hapa www.youtube.com/watch?v=rmmsuVi0gyk.
Listen to a few of these lovely melodies, and you’ll be so relaxed all you can do is call for another mai-tai. Or book tickets for the Islands!
But, not everyone can travel, I know. It’s a tough economy, and we have families to care for. I waited a long time to get back to these islands myself. And the visit from which we just returned will probably be our last for a while, as life takes me and my husband in new directions.
So, I concentrated on soaking up the soft, warm island ambience and researching locales for the second and third books in the Hawaiian Heroes series. If I use a real place in the books, it’s as true to life as I can make it.
If you’ve been to Kona, look for some familiar places in Book II; Rolling in the Deep and Book III. And if you haven’t, come along with me and the Ho’omalu ohana, family. Let us introduce you to a place you can visit again and again, in the pages of the Hawaiian Heroes stories.
And here’s a link to the blurb, and an excerpt, just for you:
Recipe for terror—take one Hawaiian hunk, light him on fire. Wake up to find all your dreams come true.
But instead, Malu invaded her dreams, as he had since that first night. It was the same dream as the one this afternoon, almost as if it hadn’t been interrupted by waking.
And this time, she went to him, as helpless to resist him as if she were bewitched. He stood framed by the mountain, glowing with that red-gold light. He wore a crown of leaves, but they were red with fire. So was the brief kapa cloth around his hips. Geckoes scampered around him like living sparks on the ground.
As she gazed at him in awe, he turned and held out his hand to her. His dark gaze, the sensuality in the slow smile he gave her were so compelling, her body reacted helplessly.
So aroused that she was breathing in ragged pants, Melia climbed the path to him. The geckoes scampered back, making way. Slowly, she reached out her hand, wanting desperately to lay it in his. But the heat that surrounded him became too much.
She hesitated, yearning to let his heat envelop her but afraid of the results. Would his passion burn her up, leaving her empty?
Melia woke with a gasp. She lay on her back in the bed, her heart pounding, desire twisting inside her. The dream had been so real.
Rain beat on the roof overhead, trickled down the gutters and splattered on the windowsills. But only on one side was she cool. Her other side was hot, uncomfortably so, as if she were too near a fire. And the heat was emanating from the man sleeping at her side.
Melia turned her head and stared. Her breath froze in her throat; her heart skipped a beat and then began to pound even faster. Was she still dreaming?
Malu still lay on his side, facing her. His eyes were closed, his face peaceful in slumber, his big body relaxed. And she could see all this clearly, because he was glowing.
She closed her eyes, squeezing them tightly shut, willing it to be her imagination, a trick of the storm, of the Hawaiian night. But when she opened them again, it was the same. The night was dark, the rain blotting out any moonlight that might have strayed in the windows. The only light was the red-gold glow that shimmered not around, not over, but from Malu.
Slowly, clumsy with fear, Melia pushed back the blanket and began to inch away from him. She made it to the very edge of the bed, had one foot on the floor, when his eyes opened, and he looked at her. It was like gazing into the heart of dark fire.
“Damn,” he rumbled, his deep voice husky with sleep. “Didn’t mean to do that yet.”