I’m one of those writers with two pen names, and I still run into readers who don’t know that I am one and the same. Last week, I attended the Romantic Times Conference in Dallas and it reinforced the fact readers still don’t get the connection. I’ve been torn between my Elle James commitments and my Myla Jackson commitments and have toyed with the idea of merging the two into Elle James. But then there is the matter of the UGLY STICK SALOON…
I don’t want to let go of the Ugly Stick Saloon. In fact, I’ve incorporated the saloon in my Elle James’s Billionaire series and hope to do more of that. So for the time being, I’ll be co-mingling Elle James and Myla Jackson at the Ugly Stick Saloon. At least until I can come up with a way to do justice to the transition. Soooooo….
The Ugly Stick Saloon Rides Again!
May 26th will be the next Myla Jackson release of an Ugly Stick Saloon book.
A cowboy takes a woman and her son under his wing…and teaches their hearts to fly.
Angus McFarlan’s mother can’t be serious. Sell the ranch? Yet Mom has a point. Bringing the Rafter M out of bankruptcy has kept Angus and his brother too busy to date, let alone have children to inherit the legacy.
The last thing Angus wants is to get half-naked for the Ugly Stick Saloon’s Annual Cowboy Auction, but it’s a jump start into the dating scene. His buyer turns out to be a Dallas businesswoman, all legs and curves—a challenge to unwrap from that sexy, buttoned-down suit.
CEO Gwendolyn Graves has no time for a relationship. All she needs is a male role model for her young son, Dalton. She never thought her bachelor cowboy would impose conditions of his own. Like make her agree to spend time with him. Alone.
As Angus teaches Dalton what it means to be a man, he and Gwen discover a passion that ignites flames they thought they didn’t have time to fan. And soon find themselves learning how to open their hearts and be a family. Just when they start thinking longer term, Dalton’s father re-enters the picture—and trouble isn’t far behind.
Warning: Quiet, sexy cowboy and woman in a tight suit get all unwrapped and tangled in the sheets in Texas.
“Those are so few and far between.” Angus slid off the stool. “Ready to go?”
Colin’s brows wrinkled. “Come on, Angus. Stay. I’m getting a kick out of watching this whole process.” He glanced around the room. “I can’t wait to see the next schmuck they conned into this.”
“Might be worth it if they were auctioning off a cook. With Mom on strike, we’re going to suffer.”
“Shh. Charli’s about to announce the next cowboy.” Colin leaned forward, a grin spreading across his face. “Gotta see who will be the next sucker.”
“Ladies, this next hunkilicious man is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity for some lucky woman. He’s tall at six feet two inches.”
“Ahhh,” the crowd sighed as one.
“He’s got black hair and amazing gray eyes.” Charli dragged it out, spurring their anticipation.
Angus shook his head. Somewhere behind the stage or in the crowd, a cowboy was probably shaking in his boots, dreading the moment his name was announced and he was paraded around the stage like a pony. Read the rest of this entry »
Maintaining your own backlog…As a computer programmer, some would interpret this statement considerably different than a writer, perhaps. As a computer programmer backlog indicates tasks intended to be completed in an efficient amount of time, specified by a business analyst. This ensures that work needed is completed within the timeframe and budget of a company’s constraints, therein ensuring the wheels of said company keep turning.
How does this apply to a writer? And why is it important to maintain your own “backlog”?
Any writer who has, for example, been associated with, say, RWA for any amount of time, knows that moving forward is key. That perseverance and dogged diligence is what will get you published whether you are aiming for traditional or indie. The act of writing, crafting, pitching, rejection—repeating the process, for as long as it takes—is indeed what will get you published.
I am not saying talent is not involved, but haven’t you read things that made you stop and wonder how they ended up published? Let’s face it, all stories are subjective. Talent is important, but it is not the end all. Talent must be honed and crafted and skilled. And let’s face it, most writers don’t get picked up from their first book, as most of us well know.
You have to keep writing. In other words, you have to build your “backlog.”
This is especially important as you start pitching to editors and agents. Hypothetically speaking, what if the story you’ve written is similar to another author’s they recently signed? But the editor/agent loves your story. So it doesn’t work for them due to current market, or circumstance. The conversation might follow something like this:
Editor: “That sounds very intriguing. I love the twist you managed at the end; however, we are looking for something more along the lines of blah blah blah.”
Of course, all you hear is the: “blah blah blah.” But while the blood in your ears is pounding with the throb of another rejection, something else trickles through.
Editor: “We love your voice. Do you have anything else?”
Now the blood is rushing through your whole head, and you are praying it won’t spill out of your other orifices; i.e., eyes, nose, mouth, etc… because you have been writing for eight years, and submitting for almost as long. So you can answer: “YES.” But of course, you did not mean to yell at her, so you manage a deep breath to calm down, and answer again. “Y-yes, I-I do.” By this time, you are praying she will forgive the stuttering. (Even though you’d been practicing, your pitch for years, you forgot to instill the response to a positive rejection that might lead to an acceptance).
But that’s okay, because said Editor: “Wonderful.” She smiles, happily so, because she knows that you are serious about your career and you are not a One-Time-Wonder. She has all the faith in the world as she slides her card across the table to you. “Please email your other completed manuscripts to me at this address. I’m sure we can work something out.”
Of course, you are so shocked, your trembling fingers cannot seem to get the card off the table. But you recover nicely enough (managing to snatch the card up), hand her a gracious smile, and say, “Thank you, so much. I’ll be in touch.”
And wasn’t it just lucky you had a “backlog” of books in your repertoire ready for that big day?
*~*~*~*~*
Kathy L Wheeler writes spicy contemporary to sweet historical and vice versa. She loves the NFL, NBA, musical theater, travel, reading writing and karaoke! She has a BA from the University of Central Oklahoma in Management Information Systems and Vocal Minor. She lives in Edmond Oklahoma with her musically-talented, attorney husband. They have one daughter, who is now a proud mama, and one very demanding cat!
Singer Margaret (Meggie) Montley needs money…fast. Her friend is in a dire situation with nowhere to turn. While Meggie is on the brink of stardom, it’s not soon enough to save her friend.
Harry Dempsey is out to avenge the deaths of his father and brother at the hands of a ruthless gangster. But trouble spirals out of control when Meggie Montley shows up the night he meets his nemesis to settle the score. Saving the impetuous woman from a crime lord might be easier than saving her from her own reckless behavior.
Excerpt:
Meggie leaned forward. The light was too dim to make out the expression behind that deep pitch, but not the sound. Listening to him left her feeling alive, tingling from head to toe. Its timbre coursed through her the same as it had since the first night she’d invited herself to his table and sat down.
From his private corner, he’d watched her each night, sipping on his illegal whiskey, piercing her with eyes that matched his drink. Never having more than one, and always alone except for times she would meander over and tease a smile from those firm lips.
When the music hit her veins, the words that flowed from her mouth were directed to him. No wonder his regular seat was empty. Harry Dempsey must have been the man with whom Butch was speaking.
“Dempsey.” Joey’s tone held an edge of fear. “The…uh…dame took a wrong turn.”
Harry moved in her direction, his gait slow, deliberate, until he stood within touching distance. “Dame?” That single word rang through the abandoned space.
Oh no. Meggie launched herself from her hiding place and threw her arms about Harry’s neck. Locked in his muscular embrace, she rested her chin on his shoulder. His arms tightened around her. “Oh, Harry. I came as fast as I could. Just as we’d planned.” The words, she’d intended to carry, came out breathless.
“Fast, huh?” The whisper was against her ear where no one else could hear, raised goose prickles over her entire body. “Guess I’ll have to do something about that.” He lifted his head.
I love cowboys. And I’m guessing you do, too. I’ve been writing them as long as I’ve been writing contemporary stories. I’ve written them through a couple of series—Lone Star Loversand Triple Horn Brand. And I’ve written them into short stories—quick bites of yummy Texans. Have you tried them out?
My love of cowboys comes from nine years of living in the Texas Hill Country with a working ranch butted up against my back yard. From my vantage it wasn’t uncommon to see cowboys on horseback or motorized mules, rounding up cattle. And every one of them was exactly how’d you picture them in your fantasies—lean and dusty in Wranglers, straw cowboy hats and boots. Now that those days are over, I can let my mind drift back—and imagine some very sexy goin’s on…
Big Brass Buckle — Caught in a sudden thunderstorm on a lonely stretch of Texas highway, I pull into a dingy little diner to wait out the rain, never dreaming the cowboy of my dreams would follow me inside. Now I have a couple of choices, play it coy and safe? Or go for the big brass buckle…
One Track Cowboy — After tracking two lost hikers, a park ranger and a local rancher lose themselves to a wild passion…
The Runaway Bride — After leaving him at the altar, a headstrong bride is captured by her cowboy and taught the pleasure of sensual discipline…
Comment for a chance to win one of the cowboy shorties here or one of the short stories on this carousel!
Most everyone has to work. We spend most of our time there. Sometimes it’s hard and not fun. A workplace romance can spice up the endless drudgery of a dead-end job. Especially when the object of desire is the boss. The thought of having a sexy man in a position of power run the bedroom is irresistible indeed.
In my latest release, Sadie’s Surrender, Sadie can’t face a future of shucking oysters. Lucky for her, Henry runs the oyster plant and he’s had his eye on her. They try to keep things strictly business, but you can imagine how that turned out. Check out the excerpt below for a sneak peek of their “business” boat trip.
After her husband leaves her for another woman, Sadie Johnson feels unattractive. Unable to face a dreary future of shucking oysters and living with her critical mother, she dreams of being a businesswoman. But in 1936, opportunities for women of color in Oyster Island are limited.
An oysterman at heart, Henry Rockfield would rather sail than run the local branch of his brother’s oyster company. He’s not happy about belonging to the town Klan either, but he’ll do anything to keep the peace and help his family.
When sassy Sadie proves she can run the plant, he can’t resist putting her secretly in charge so he can return to the sea. But when desire resurrects a tragic mistake from his past, he learns business and pleasure are a dangerous mix. When racial conflict hits home, forcing them to choose between love and duty, will Sadie surrender?
Because one of them had to drive the boat, their passion couldn’t go any further. It was enough. Henry kissed and caressed her like he truly desired her. Anything more would complicate their lives.
His fingers dug into her backside, hungry and possessive. Her hips danced with the waves, pulling her hot, wet panties across her aching folds. The throb of the engine vibrated up each leg, straight to her clitoris. Her thighs trembled, desperate to spread and guide him into her soaked depths.
“I can smell your musk through the salt air.” He ground against her. “Do you have any idea how much I want to fuck you right now?”
She moaned into the wind. Her nipples hardened, stiff enough to bore holes through Leroy’s old shirt.
“We have to drive the boat. Besides, I’m sure you can find someone prettier and smaller when you decide to be with a woman again.”
“If you belittle yourself one more time, I’ll throw you overboard.” He grabbed her hand and placed it over his erection. “Besides, I’m not exactly small myself.”
Both her fingers and belly clenched as the craft crested a wave. A wild look burned from his dark-blue eyes. With his wind-tossed, damp hair, he resembled a sea god. He definitely wasn’t small. His tall, muscular frame must weigh at least two hundred pounds, and the bulge in her hand wasn’t tiny, either. It would fill her up and then some.
She needed to see him completely nude someday, as he’d seen her.
To her surprise, he unbuttoned his trousers, releasing his rigid cock. When he rubbed it on her thigh, she trapped it under her palm. The pink flesh burned away the cold in her fingers. Hot fluid leaked down the shaft, lubricating her strokes.
“Oh, Sadie. God, Sadie,” he moaned, thrusting harder. “I’ve got to have you.”
His entire body bucked so hard, she feared they’d capsize.
Next, he unbuttoned her trousers and tugged them down. Her skin tingled with goose bumps in the cool air. She felt even more naked here than she had lying on his bed. Dare she surrender a second time?
“Henry, what are you doing?”
Instead of answering, he peeled off his poncho and draped it around their waists. Her pulse sped up. The man was out of control, and she loved it. Gasping, she gripped the steering wheel. He’d distracted her so much, they zigzagged toward the shore instead of staying in the middle of the channel.
He palmed her buttocks and dragged the scorching head of his gorgeous cock across her. She figured he planned to rub himself against her again. Fine with her. His arousal excited her so much, she was a breath away from climaxing, too.
She moaned when the round head of his bare shaft slid across her folds.
“I think you’d better stop now, Henry!”
“Do you have any idea how long I’ve wanted this?” He groaned, his voice throbbing through her bones like the boat engine.
“How long we’ve both wanted it?”
The head nudged her clitoris, massaging it back and forth.
“Henry!” Sobbing, she clenched the wheel. “You have to stop. For one thing, you’re not wearing a—”
Coming Soon Deeper Than Perfect – 1970s time-travel\
I’m at the RT Book Convention in Dallas, TX right now!! It’s in my backyard actually since I’m a Texas girl. Yea!!
This will be my second RT to go to and this year I’m bringing my mom. So excited and love it when she goes to cons with me.
Last year the convention was in New Orleans and I had a blast!! Here are a few of the wonderful people I got to meet. Maya Banks, Shayla Black, Kiera Cass, Damon Suede, Sylvia Day, and EL James. OMG and so many more.
Love all of them!
So here’s a question….what author would you LOVE to meet? And why?
Doesn’t have to be romance. It can be any genre! My favorite answer will win an e-copy of any of my individual titles.
Have a super duper awesome rest of your week and I’ll check back when I get home and pick my answer!!
Need a little extra sizzle to get you through the day? May I suggest a bit of kink…. 🙂
The books in the Members Only Series can be found here…
Jennifer Kacey is a writer, mother, and business owner living with her family in Texas. She sings in the shower, plays piano in her dreams, and has to have a different color of nail polish every week. The best advice she’s ever been given? Find the real you and never settle for anything less.
For weeks we’ve been bombarded with the various issues surrounding the events which occurred over the past few months in Ferguson, Missouri. As I write this story on December 1, 2014, there is a story of a father of six pushing his way through the protesters to get to one of his three jobs so he doesn’t get fired.
What does this have to do with writing romance novels you might ask?
In WHAT A RICH WOMAN WANTS (Samhain Publishing, May 2015) the hero is a mixed race former gang member turned sheriff’s deputy who is starting a program in his community to help young men like he was. He had little family structure and not the best start in life economically or educationally. Where are young men in his situation supposed to turn? In Niko’s case he follows his childhood friend into a loosely formed street gang and only escapes when he’s forced to make a choice between his friend and his son. (Niko first appears in A FOREVER KIND OF GUY, Samhain 2012)
I watch the continuing coverage about racial issues and Ferguson in particular and I wonder what it is we can do? Mostly, it seems, what we do is say to ourselves, “Oh, that’s too bad, but it’s not my problem.”
What I love about Niko is that from his perspective what kids need is guidance and support. Somewhere to go (if there’s no one at home for them) that isn’t the street. A safe place where they can get help with homework, a snack, friendship, counseling, mentoring. A place to play sports where the focus is learning to get along with others and working as a team not necessarily winning. Niko wants to give these kids the tools they need to be successful in life. He wants to keep them alive, off the streets, and out of prison.
Niko’s a bit idealistic but he believes in what he’s doing and he’s passionate about it. He sees a situation he thinks he can change and he does something. It isn’t easy. He’s forced out of his comfort zone and takes risks to accomplish his goal.
I wish there more heroes out there like Niko. Guys who really understand what it takes to turn your life around and who are willing to give back to the communities and help people who are where they once were. If more of them stood up maybe the rest of us would be there to stand behind them.
WHAT A RICH WOMAN WANTS
He knows she’s out of his reach. Until she reaches out to him.
Braddock Brotherhood, Book 4
Right about the time Lesley Robinson’s father’s stroke left her in charge of his Fortune 500 company, she adopted her housekeeper’s sick baby and divorced her philandering husband.
She’s survived the past six years by building an impenetrable wall around her emotions. But when a hunk of a sheriff’s deputy turns up at her office to apply for a grant from the company’s foundation, her distrust of men and relationships takes a direct hit.
Niko Morales clawed his way out of gang life to build a new one grounded in law enforcement and a passion to help disadvantaged youth. So, Lesley needs a companion for an upcoming social occasion? He’s no gigolo, but for his community center, and maybe for her, he’ll wear the monkey suit.
Without any apparent effort at all, Niko sneaks under Lesley’s cool façade, shaking up everything she believed about herself. But when their relationship is threatened by the sins of others, they’ll both have to step up—and out of their comfort zones. Or they’ll lose the one thing they want most: each other.
This should have released last Friday, but the story got lost in limbo then suddenly appeared today on Amazon! Yay! It’s the latest in my series of short story releases, and a fun way to introduce you to my very dirty mind. The cover isn’t as colorful as some of the other short stories I’ve released, but it depicts the mousy heroine of my story to a T. And don’t worry! She doesn’t stay mousy or shy for very long.
If you’d like to sample more of my short stories, just click on a cover here:
What’s cool about this? Amazon has a new program called Kindle Unlimited. It’s like Netflix for books. You pay one price, $9.99 for a subscription, and then you can download as many books as you can read that month. But if all you want to do is read a shortie, the price to you is just $0.99–less than a cup of coffee!
Nip-n-Tuck
Follow a shy seamstress’s adventures with an online suitor that don’t go quite as planned…
A short excerpt…
Gabby Brown heard the distant ding of the bell above the shop door and checked her watch. Noon. At last. She’d been nervous all morning and had stuck her fingers with pins until the pads tingled. She’d ushered out the last customer fifteen minutes ago, and then hurried to the restroom to run her fingers through her curly hair and gloss her lips. She wore her “uniform”—a cardigan over a plain, button-down blouse, a dark, knee-length skirt, and comfortable shoes.
The clamps she’d attached to her nipples were concealed beneath her padded bra. The slim, short vibrator was already inside her; the remote tucked into a pocket of her sweater.
She glanced at her reflection, pleased with her plain appearance.
I can do this, she told herself. It wasn’t as though they were complete strangers. Perhaps she didn’t know what he looked like, but he’d learned her secrets, her passions while sharing his own. He’d slowly stoked a fire inside her, promising her a discreet thrill. The first of many.
For a woman who had somehow let her youth slip by, the chance to live out a few of her favorite fantasies was too enticing to ignore. He’d promised an elicit pleasure. A test run, of sorts. To save embarrassment or hurt feelings, they’d also agreed to hold off discussing future engagements until they could meet again that evening online. And because she’d admitted she was shy about revealing her body this first time, today she would remain fully clothed.
Leaving the bathroom, she pulled back the curtain separating the store from her fitting room. Her glance landed on the long lean body faced away, looking at a pair of ugly plaid golf trousers. When his hand reached for the hanger, she smiled.
Their pre-arranged signal.
Forcing away her smile, she entered the room and strode quietly up behind him. When she stood beside his shoulder, she enjoyed the fact she had to tilt back her head when she turned to meet his gaze. He was bigger than she’d thought he’d be. “Would you like to try them on?”
The face that turned her way was more handsome than he’d led her to believe. A strong angular chin, a blunt nose. Dark thick eyebrows framed a pair of curious brown eyes.
A frown dug a line between those dark eyebrows then his gaze flicked to hers again. “The pants are ugly as hell,” he murmured.
“I’ll help you with them, if you like. You could try them on for size,” she said, suddenly breathless, flirting with her eyes and lips. She bit her bottom lip, and then released it with a little laugh.
His slow, answering smile melted her. It was crooked and dug a dimple into one cheek. He was younger than she’d initially thought, looking at him.
Eager now, she grabbed the hanger, clamped her hand around his fingers, and tugged him along. “Come with me.”
And he did, much to her relief. There was no sign he was disappointed with her appearance. No reluctance in the drag of his feet. Just a quirk of his eyebrows and a quick glance around the shop.
“Don’t worry.” She glanced at the bell above the door. “We’ll know if anyone comes in. I’ll be quick.”
He cleared his throat but ducked through the curtain to follow her inside her little room.
She knew what he saw. A dingy little airless room. A sewing machine on a dented work table. A rack crammed full of clothing she’d already mended, shortened, let out… She was a seamstress—not a sexy job—at least, not until he’d convinced her otherwise.
“This is where you work?” he asked, his voice sounding slightly bemused.
She lifted a shoulder. She’d warned him the shop wasn’t much. “I make a living.”
“Doing…alterations?” His eyebrow quirked.
“Exactly. But we don’t have a lot of time. Marlon will be back from lunch in half an hour,” she said, mentioning the shop owner who’d employed her for over ten years. She lifted her chin toward the pants still clutched in his hands. “Try them on. We’ll discuss the fitting.”
Both eyebrows shot up this time. “Right here?”
The playacting was fun but now that she’d seen him, she wanted action. “If you’re shy, you can use the restroom, but there’s no need. Not with me.”
He gave a slight snort, shook his head, but set the pants on her work table. He took off his sports coat, loosened his tie, and then toed off his well-shined black shoes. When his hands paused at his belt buckle, he rested his gaze on her for a long moment.
She decided to make this a little easier. She strode toward him, shooed away his hands, and holding his gaze, she unbuttoned his waistband and slid down the zipper.
A muscle straddling his jaw flexed. “This a full-service establishment?”
Her grin dug a dimple into her cheek. She liked his sly wit. “I live to serve,” she said, giving him a wink.
“You’re pretty,” he whispered.
He sounded surprised. So she believed his words. “Thanks for saying that. I hardly ever go to the bother of makeup, but I wanted to look special today,” she admitted, feeling heat rise along her neck.
“Today’s special,” he said, his voice uninflected.
“Yes. “ Grabbing his waistband, she dragged his pants off his hips. Her gaze dropped to the erection tenting his boxers. “Very special,” she whispered.
His trousers fell around his ankles, and she knelt to hold them while he stepped out. She liked his legs, liked the dark hair cloaking his olive skin, the muscle tensing in his thighs as she stood, her hands grazing him lightly as she came up.
She reached for the bright green golf pants and dangled them off a finger.
Again, his eyebrows shot up.
“Like we agreed,” she said breathlessly. “Put them on.”
“But…”
Oh, nice touch. She shook her head at his reluctance, raising her finger like a schoolteacher to scold him. “Let me work…first.”
How does this apply to a writer? And why is it important to maintain your own “backlog”?
Most everyone has to work. We spend most of our time there. Sometimes it’s hard and not fun. A workplace romance can spice up the endless drudgery of a dead-end job. Especially when the object of desire is the boss. The thought of having a sexy man in a position of power run the bedroom is irresistible indeed.
Love all of them!
Jennifer Kacey is a writer, mother, and business owner living with her family in Texas. She sings in the shower, plays piano in her dreams, and has to have a different color of nail polish every week. The best advice she’s ever been given? Find the real you and never settle for anything less.
