UPDATE: The winner is…Stephanie Davies!

* * * * *

People always ask me where I get my ideas. And I have to say I get them everywhere. From the news, from snippets of conversations, and sometimes, I get them from pictures. This past month, I’ve been taking advantage of a special bargain depositphotos.com has where you can purchase 10 photos a day for a month for just $79.00. The first couple of weeks, I devoured the site for pictures I knew I needed—hunky, bare-chested males, pretty women, couple clenches, some background photos. The past few days as I near the end of my buying period, I’ve been picking up photos that simply catch my eye, hoping one will spawn a story.

Here’s one of those intriguing photos…

So, let’s play. For a chance to win an Amazon gift card, tell me a story inspired by this photo. It doesn’t have to be long or complete. Just have fun!

So, this post was originally going to be about the inspiration behind my story Sanctuary which appears in the Crazy Cat Ladies anthology, but I have to veer a tiny bit first, of course.

Have you ever had one of those moments where life truly imitates art? I don’t have them often, but every once in a while…

Well, Friday was one of those rare days.

I woke up a bit later than I wanted and was rushing to get my six-year-old and myself ready for her dentist appointment. Let me back up a moment and give you a teensy piece of back story…my cat. She’s big and fluffy and basically thinks she’s starving all the time. (Don’t they all?) She also suffers from the “my food is gone from the center of my bowl and piled around the edges; therefore, I’m going to starve to death” disorder. As I left my room and headed to my daughter’s, my sweet fluffball made a mad dash, and by that I mean a bat-sh!&-crazy, mow-you-down, NFL worthy rush, for the kitchen. Somehow, she ended up under my feet, and in an effort to not squish her, I guess I threw myself off balance.

I heard not one, but four distinct crunching pops.

Oh yes. Yay, me.

I fell, of course, cause graceful. And I knew something was very wrong with my ankle, but I’ve twisted it before (remember that whole graceful thing?), and it’s made noises when sprained, so I hobbled around and went ahead with the dentist appointment.

As one does.

Cue all the people at the dentist office gathered around me, peering at my ankle in abject horror. “Why aren’t you in the ER?” “You need to have that looked at immediately!” “Prop your foot on this chair, now!”

So, I listened. Which I totally always do. Sure. Yeah. Definitely. *wink, wink* And I took myself, my six year old, and my gigantic, somewhat mangled looking ankle to get an X-Ray.

Lo and behold, it’s broken.

So, the week before my story releases in the Crazy Cat Ladies anthology, I literally break my ankle saving my cat…or because of my cat…or something having to do with my cat. If only my doctor had been a crazy hot guy, I’d have my next story. Hm, maybe I already do. 🙂

Now, about my story. Sanctuary is set on an exotic cat refuge where Indy, my heroine, works to provide a good life for lions and tigers and leopards that were once kept as pets.

Jake, my hero, has struggled with a slightly different cause; canned lion hunts. He’s seen first hand what that industry does: the hand-raising of lion cubs, the tiny cages, the constant breeding, and eventually the death at the hands of a hunter at close range.

Now, I’m not typically one to “get political.” I’m empathetic to a fault and can usually find some way to see the other side of the coin, to walk in someone else’s shoes, to bring sexy back (wait, no, that doesn’t fit there). But the inspiration for Sanctuary came from a film called Blood Lions. If you haven’t seen it, I highly encourage you to check it out (Amazon). It details the canned lion hunt industry and what’s happening to these animals. And it’s heartbreaking.

There are currently more lions living in captivity at these canned hunting establishments than there are in the wild. But that’s not the worst part. Nope, not by a long shot. The worst part is that each and every one of them is essentially on death row, just waiting for a person to pick their picture out of an email and pay some serious money to shoot them, stuff them, and bring them home as a trophy. And these lions have been raised by humans, in most cases literally bottle fed, so they have no natural fear of them anymore. They walk right up to the man with the gun.

As I said, I’m not one to cast judgment, but this issue has truly broken my heart. I couldn’t pass up the opportunity to share a little bit about what’s going on with this industry and how alarming it is.

That said, Sanctuary isn’t all sadness and drama! Jake and Indy are pretty hilarious together, if I do say so myself. Their banter and ability to laugh at themselves is my favorite part of their love affair. Well, that and they’re pretty hot together, too. 🙂

I really hope you’ll check out Sanctuary and the rest of the awesome stories in the Crazy Cat Ladies anthology. The stories are incredibly diverse and there’s something for everyone!

The Crazy Cat Ladies boxed set lets 9 new purr-fectly wild romance stories out of the bag. We hope you enjoy these paw-some tails from New York Times, USA Today, & other authors.

Amazon US – http://bit.ly/CCLAmzUS
Amazon AU – http://bit.ly/CCLAmzAU
Amazon CA – http://bit.ly/CCLAmzCA
Amazon UK – http://bit.ly/CCLAmzUK
iBooks – http://bit.ly/CCLiBooks
Nook – http://bit.ly/CCLNook

Kobo – http://bit.ly/CCLKobo
Goodreads – http://bit.ly/CCLGoodreads
Crazy Cat Lady website! http://www.crazycatladyseries.com

FREEBIE!! Wooing the Cat Lady in your Life: https://www.instafreebie.com/free/5I7pI

Connect with me:
Newsletter: http://bit.ly/SukiesNewsletter
Facebook: @SukieChapinAuthor
Twitter: @SukieChapin
www.sukiechapin.com
Email me!! sukie@sukiechapin.com

Okay, so time to please, please, please make me feel better. Has your fur-baby ever caused you to have a major boo-boo?

UPDATE: The winner is…Colleen C!

* * * * *

I don’t know about you, but Halloween/Samhain/Dia de los Muertos is kind of a big deal around here. We don’t buy candy because we live in the boonies—no one goes door-to-door with their kids. We’ve painted pumpkins, put up our Halloween tree (a silver metal tree to hold our Strangeling ornaments), and begun purchasing the pieces of our costumes. We’re still hunting down all the face and hair paint we need to make a credible Harley Quinn. 🙂

All this made me wonder what sort of prep you do for the big date? Tell me about it and you’ll be entered to win a $5 Amazon gift card!

In the meantime, enjoy an excerpt from Zombie Love…

The morning he’d woken, feeling as though he had the worst hangover ever and rushing to the fridge for the hamburger I’d thawed the night before, he’d recognized the signs.

I’d awoken with him standing in the doorway, his eyes haunted.

“What’s wrong?” I’d asked.

He’d given me a tight smile, but then I’d noted the deep gray shadows beneath his eyes, the slick of perspiration on his forehead. The reddening irises. “Danny?” I’d asked, sitting up on my elbows as my stomach roiled.

No, it can’t be happening. Not to us. We’d done everything right. We’d stayed clear of quarantined areas. Used our own vehicles rather than public transportation to get back and forth to work. We never drank after one another. Didn’t eat out in restaurants where we couldn’t watch the cutlery and plates being sterilized. Didn’t kiss.

“How?” I’d asked, my throat thickening with tears.

He shook his head. “I don’t know, baby. But I have to go. I’ll walk to the center. Turn myself in. I won’t tell them where I live, but you’ll need to sanitize when I’m gone.”

My stomach tightened in rejection. “You aren’t going there.”

His sweet smile stretched, although his eyes watered with unshed tears. “I don’t have any choice. I’m already scared to death I may have infected you.”

I shook my head, the back of my throat burning. “You know what they say about those places. I won’t ever see you again.”

He spread his hands and gripped the doorframe, his head bowed. “I love you, Trish.” Then he backed away from the door.

I threw back the covers. “No! We’ll find another way. Wait this out. They’ll find a treatment.”

But he walked away, down the hallway toward the front door.

I scrambled from the bed and followed. Before he reached the door, I encircled his waist with my arms and held him back. “Don’t do this. Stay with me. We’ll find a way to keep me safe. You still have a little time.”

While he’d finished the raw hamburger and I’d drank a pot of hot coffee, we’d conspired. By the end of the day, I’d hit the hardware store two counties over, and he’d cleared his beloved studio.

That hug at the doorway was the last time I’d touched him.

I locked the door and walked around to the glass. The pile of clothing was where I’d left it. My gaze shot to Danny. He hadn’t torn the clothing to shreds as he had every time I placed a fresh stack inside his cage since the illness had taken his mind.

Instead as I watched, my eyes filling, he hobbled toward it. He shucked the grimy, blood-encrusted sweatpants he’d worn since he’d slipped the manacle around his own wrist. He bent and picked up the washcloth and clumsily soaked it in the water, rubbed it on the soap, and began to wash.

The fact he could think through the process of cleaning himself made me sob.

The sound must have penetrated the glass because his dark gaze found mine. His features were still cast in a dull, emotionless mask, but his red eyes told another story. He was there.

At first glance, you would think this is an easy question to answer, but in reality, it is multi-faceted in many ways.

First of all, especially in the Romance industry, not only are we writers, but we are also readers.  So as readers, we tend to be more empathic when it comes to our own readers.  Maybe it is a little do unto others as we would have them do unto us mixed in there.

But for me, I never realized how much of an impact the writer/reader’s relationship was until I became a writer myself.  The interaction between writer and reader is like no other, because we are one and the same.

For the indie author, this relationship is even more important, because as an indie author, you don’t have a big publishing company or public relations firm out there doing all your advertising; we have ourselves and our readers.

I remember when I first retired from the Army last year, deciding that once I was out I would finally finish the novel I had started back in 2010, and I would send to a big time publisher, and be published by them.

As I researched profusely on various BIG Publishers, I soon found out, that even though I could have had great support, I possibly could never be in control of what I wrote or how I wrote it, was not my cup of tea.   So this for me was a BIG NO, after 23 years of having every part of my life controlled, there was no way I wanted to go that route of BIG Publisher, at least not at first.

I sat down at my laptop and began to finish my novel, I had started in 2010 and titled it “Warranted Pleasures”.  When I finished, I was so proud of the work I had accomplished, but I still had NO idea what or where to go next.

So on to more research and many “How to” books read, it wasn’t until literally weeks ago that I truly figured out what and where to go, to get my novel out to the masses.  I published “Warranted Pleasures” in December 2015, and although I used some social media, and made contacts with other authors and readers; I just wasn’t doing enough in my opinion.  So one day, I posted on Facebook what I felt on the inside, it would be my last ditch effort to get the word out, and gain more readers.  I don’t remember the exact wording, but in essence it was a scream for help.  I think it read pretty much like this, “HELP”…….. ha ha

It was that post that caught the attention of a woman I had recently just added as a friend, on Facebook from another authors Facebook page.  I had corresponded with her via comments and she seemed nice, so I clicked add as a friend. What was it going to hurt? But it was that add that changed everything.  She offered to help, she added me to some groups and put me in contact with another woman, who was also a big reader, and part of many readers, and author groups on Facebook.  I hired her as my assistant and she went right to work finding signings around the country, and Facebook author takeovers with bloggers and reviewers.

I was finally getting the word out, enjoying my time taking over different groups, and events on Facebook.  Things were finally starting to work out and go the way I had envisioned them.

It has been so much fun and so exhausting at the same time, but it is the readers that make our job as a writer so much fun. It’s the readers that gets the word out and it’s the readers we get to interact with.  It’s the readers that are important, being able to finally connect with more and more of them has made me realized how amazingly blessed and honored I am to be able to bring my stories to them, and be a romance author.

I am having such a great time, being able to interact with readers, as a reader myself, I have Fangirl moments too.  Like when I am doing a takeover, and I find myself doing one with a couple of USA Today and New York Times best-selling Authors, I seriously Fangirl.

It’s amazing to me as a writer, how close we are able to become with our readers, especially in the Romance Genre.  I think it has a lot to do with the fact that we are readers too; we have our Fangirl moments and that makes this job so much fun.   We have signings, Facebook events, conferences, and of course the Romance Writers of America national conference.

I mean come on, you can’t get this close to Gerard Butler on the Red Carpet or on a movie set. By the way, if you decide to follow me, friend me or meet me, you will find I am convinced he and I were married in past lives.  Ha ha.

We, as writers, are readers first and writers second.  We are the readers and as the readers, don’t we always spread the word about our favorite author or a new book we just read?  What a blessing and an honor it is for me to be able to say I am a Romance Novelist, and that we have the best readers and fellow authors in this industry.

We are approachable, because we ourselves, are the FANS and we are the readers. Don’t we all love a HEA?   That’s what we get when we pick up a romance novel, well most anyway, some are HEA for now stories, and that’s ok too.

We all love a great HEA story, from the time we were little kids until the day we die, because HEA show us all that there is always a Once upon a Time.

So for me, our readers are IMPORTANT, because WE are them and WE are a FAMILY, and as a FAMILY we help each other. And I believe, that is what I found.

So a big thank you, to all of you who have read, will read and who won’t because no matter what, we are FAMILY, the Romance FAMILY.

About Shannon

Shannon grew up in a small town called Macomb, IL. A university town nestled in the heart of Central Illinois. Corn fields and soy beans surround the town and her Friday nights consisted of reading and television. Surprising her entire family, she joined the US Army in 1987 with an MOS of Unit Supply Specialist.  The 4-year stint lead to a retirement in April 2015.  She began writing in 2010 as a way to help deal with some of the stress and pressures of daily Army life. It was her best friend who pushed her to pursue writing as a career.   “Writing is my release, I love telling a story and I learned to always write about what I know.”  Since she has served half her life in the US Army, her stories surround the lives of soldiers. She love’s Sci-fi and fantasy and has thought about exploring it some for future works.  She is a mother of four and a grandmother of 1 with another granddaughter on the way in Dec 2016, she has been married for 22 years.

Find Shannon:
www.shannonnemechek.com
www.facebook.com/srnemechek

www.goodreads.com/shannonnemechek
Twitter @srnemoauthor

Warranted Pleasures Book 1 (A Warranted Series)

Sergeant Samantha O’Hara had no idea that when she was assigned to the 1266th Transportation Company, that she would meet sexy and flirty Chief Warrant Officer Raleigh Fitzgerald. But when their eyes met, sparks flew as well as the bullets.

It was against Army Regulations they knew that, but it was an undeniable attraction. She wasn’t sure how long she could hold out, he had a way of getting under her skin.

Raleigh was used to getting what he wanted and right now little Miss Sam, is on the top of his list

Meet Sergeant Samantha O’Hara- She’s young, beautiful, extremely driven, and very much single. Her love life, completely non-existent.

Meet Chief Warrant Officer Raleigh Fitzgerald- He’s young, flirtatious, and quite frankly sinfully delicious. Oh and yes, he’s very much single.

Welcome to Samantha and Raleigh’s world.

A world where seduction, dirty talk, and let’s say yumminess comes into play.
A world where no one can be trusted, where secrets are unraveled.
A world of internal conflicts and fears.
A world of hurt and pain where scars run so deep it’s hard to catch your breath.

This is their story……. Available on Amazon and Kindle Unlimited https://www.amazon.com/dp/B01795R1IW

Warranted Desires Book 2 (A Warranted Series) Releases Dec 2016

Hi Delilah Fans!

Finally some fall weather! Love these nights when I can sleep with the windows open.

Thank you to those who commented on my September post about falling in love with a gay man. Apparently I’m not the only one who has gone through this. Back when this happened to me, homosexuality wasn’t an open topic. Young people had many reasons not to face the truth about their sexuality.

At that time, men who didn’t realize they were gay tried to be ‘normal’ by dating girls and even falling in love with girls. That’s what happened to me. Today, thankfully, being gay isn’t as terribly stigmatized as it was in the past. Gay men and women are more likely to think about their sexuality early on and come to terms with their true inclinations. Thus many fewer women are left with the fallout that comes from a first love who turned out to be gay.

For myself, as I said in my September post, the four-year love affair I had as a teen led to permanent issues in my self-esteem. What I learned then can’t be fully unlearned, that I wasn’t enough of a woman to drive his passion, that if I had been more flirty, more buxom, he would have wanted me more. I fully understand that nothing I did actually had anything to do with his final realization that he was gay. That doesn’t undo four years of thinking something was wrong with me.

No doubt the experience for him was even more traumatic.

So thanks for listening and sharing your thoughts with me.

And now for something entirely more entertaining! Here’s an excerpt from a new short story, “The Lawn Guy.” This work was inspired by a new anthology Delilah is working on about blue collar men. Are these guys too sexy for their shirts or what?!

Lizzie Ashworth’s “The Lawn Guy”

I stand at the window, dodging out of sight when the mower loops at the far end and starts heading back toward the house. It’s pure self-indulgence, watching him with the wind blowing his hair, his sweaty back gleaming in the sun. His back muscles do amazing things when he leans.

Why I’m torturing myself, I don’t know. I’m helpless here, a hundred other things I could be doing, and I can’t do any of them. I want him on top of me.

Is this pathetic or what?

I have the best mowed lawn in the neighborhood. Best trimmed bushes, best raked leaves, best mulched flowerbeds. I owe it all to Justin Younger, damn him.

Damn his amber eyes and crooked smile and a roughhewn face that belongs in the movies. Damn his enthusiasm about random things like the broken limb on the old elm, the turtle stuck under the back fence. I tell myself that’s why I hire him.

It’s a lie. I hire him because I’m infatuated. I’m slack jawed at the window watching him park the mower and stride across the yard with a rake. If I’m not careful, I’ll be wiping drool off my chin. How do men become so beautiful?

There’s one thing about becoming widowed. You get a paid-for house and supportive friends and time to relax.  If you’re lucky, you get left with enough money to hire your yardwork done. All that’s supposed to help make up for losing the man you meant to spend your life with, the man who’s gone. I’m so lucky.

I feel something stirring in me, something dangerous. When I watch Justin, I feel like I might explode. Everything is fucked up.

I’ve dusted every shelf, rearranged the contents of every cabinet. I can tell you exactly what part of which drawer you’ll find the tape. I tidy up whether I need to or not. It’s what I do, dusting, organizing, making sure every single thing in this house is in perfect order.

I know the clinical stuff. I’m seeking control. Control over things that happen for no reason and destroy lives. I find myself standing in places for long periods of time, like I’m waiting on something. Like David’s going to come walking through that door all smiles and I’ll fly into his arms. My hands will grab those lean muscles that curve down his back, and never let go. My hands still feel him.

I’m waiting for my life to come back. But all I can do is manage minutia and stare out the window at the one man who interests me. It feels wrong, like I’m being unfaithful to David. It doesn’t help to remember that David is never coming back.

I think this guy interests me because I can see his bare chest, his wide shoulders, his energetic response to the world. Men do that, respond energetically to the world. As if with their own hands they could move mountains and battle lions. It’s what I loved about David. It’s what got him killed.

~~~

Last night I dreamt about Justin. He was over me. I can’t get it out of my mind.

He smelled like sunshine and cut grass. His skin smoothed under my fingertips. He was gentle, slow. I woke up wet between my legs.

That’s just fucking great.

~~~

“Thought you might need a drink,” I say. I hand Justin a tall glass of iced tea with condensation running down its sides. My heart is beating in my throat standing near him.

He squints up at the sun, takes the towel from his waistband, and wipes his face and neck. I watch his shoulder flex. His chest gleams. I watch his throat move as he drinks. He slides the cold wet glass across his chest.

I’m desperate to touch him. This is sick. How did my life get so out of control?

“Thanks, Ms. B.” He sizes me up. “Did you want me to deal with that broken limb today?”

I look up at the old elm. A big limb broke in a mid-summer storm and it’s been up there dangling. “I’m worried about you climbing up there. Maybe I should hire a tree service.”

He laughs. When he laughs, lines crease his cheeks. I thought he was late twenties, but maybe he’s a bit older, maybe mid-thirties like me. He gives me this look of authority.

“Five minutes.”

I watch him climb the tree. I’m helpless down here wringing my hands. Does my homeowner’s policy include liability?

Hell, I’m old before my time. Everything terrifies me. The chainsaw whines and sawdust drifts down and I can’t watch.

Five minutes and the chainsaw comes down on its rope and then the limb is coming down on its rope and then Justin climbs down. He slides down the last few feet and lands right in front of me. Plants his boots hard on the ground. Breathing hard. Sweating. Grinning at his success.

He leans toward me. I think he’s off balance and grab his arm. He looks at me and I jerk my hand away.

“I told you,” he says. “Nothing to worry about.”

“I worried anyway.”

“If I can’t do something, I’ll tell you. Trust me.”

Is he saying more than he’s saying? I want to read between the lines. He tugs off his leather gloves, stuffs them in his rear pocket, and touches my cheek. I can’t move. I can’t breathe.

“You worry too much,” he says, peering down at me with an expression of…I don’t know. “You have sawdust on your face.”

Read the rest of this story.
Only 99¢ at Smashwords.

About the Author

Lizzie Ashworth has been through career, marriage, kids, and even ran her own cafe, but writing has always been her secret love. She has authored eight novels and several short stories which explore the intimate nuances of human relationships. She likes to show a process in her stories where discovery or acknowledgment of sexual pleasure or desire is key to character development. Hidden away on a remote woodland hilltop in the Arkansas Ozarks, she accepts advice from her hound dog Weezie and her cat Esmeralda. When she’s not slamming words, she enjoys cooking, gardening, and the Pacific coast. Sunrise and sunset provide her favorite moments, the magical twilight between two worlds when anything seems possible.

UPDATE: The winners are Debra, Colleen, and Pat!

* * * * *

Contest

Comment for a chance to win!
Winners will get their choice of a short story.
And if you haven’t read my shorties, check out the full list here!
Here’s just a sampling…

I just came back from a book signing in Valley Forge, and, as usual, the hit of my table wasn’t my books or my writing, it was my patches.

I’m not sure how I got started buying them, but I’ve done it so many times, Amazon keeps showing me new ones I cannot live without. I use them to award to people who buy multiple books from me at an event, or sometimes just to award to an avid fan who stops by to say hi and already has all my books. Or just because I feel like being generous.
It creates quite a buzz at the table and we do attract attention.

Tonight at Kym Grosso’s launch party, I even gave away some Sugar Skull duct tape and stickers, in keeping with the theme.

Sometimes our guys and gals overseas can wear some of them. Most the ones I buy, like the ones I show here, not so much. Lots of my friends ride motorcycles and have them all over their jackets. I just like looking at them, and probably will make a nice display of them, right next to the police, firefighters and paramedic patches I’ve been collecting over the years. And why not.

We ladies (and gents) like to have fun, right? What’s life without a little kinky humor now and then. Sort of goes along with my Bad Boys of SEAL Team 3 navy blue condoms and my pink Stimulus Package ones.

Sharon’s new release, Love Me Tender, Love You Hard is in the brand new launch St. Helena Kindle Worlds, based on the small wine country town of St. Helena. Autumn In The Vineyards, Marina Adair’s book that is the basis for this World, is airing as a Hallmark Movie on Saturday October 8 at 9 PM on the Hallmark Channel. Enjoy!

Sharon Hamilton
http://amzn.to/2cM1lss
http://www.authorsharonhamilton.com
Goodreadsà http://bit.ly/2doKUEU
Join my group: http://bit.ly/2czpjUB