UPDATE: The winners are all 8 commenters!
*~*~*

Lawless comes out next Tuesday! Well, Monday night just after midnight! Can you tell I’m excited?

If you want to read the opening scene of Lawless, you can check it out here! I had a blast writing it. The story is very sexy, funny, and has a bit of danger to keep you worried about the heroine and let you enjoy the sigh-worthy kiss when her deputy comes to her rescue. Not that she needs a lot of help! Be warned, there are lots of sexy bits in this story. I just can’t help myself when it comes to cowboys. 🙂

Lawless

Come on, baby. Break a few rules…

When a Texas deputy’s motorcycle club trashes a bar with him leading the brawl, the sheriff decides his punishment will be serving as the bouncer/enforcer for the pretty owner while she runs a booth serving bikers during a weekend-long motorcycle club convention.

Get your copy here!

For a chance to win your choice of one of these Cowboys
on the Edge stories, answer me this!

Do you love cowboys who are also firefighters and lawmen?

(Click on a cover if you’d like to learn more!)

I brake for great songs. Not literally, but when I’m driving, I tend to station-surf, hunting for a song that lifts me up and reflects my mood. Between FM, satellite radio, the cd player, and yes, even a cassette player, there are plenty of options in my car. I’m constantly searching for songs that make me feel—feel happy, sad, romantic, or amused. One tune that I block out all else to listen to is “Samba Pa Ti” by Santana. Something about those notes evokes yearning and sensuousness, and lifts my soul to a satisfying high.

So when I answered the submission call for short stories involving a supernatural connection to jazz for the anthology All That Weird Jazz, I knew the story I wrote would involve a song that pulled the main character in, a song like “Wicked Game” by Chris Isaak, or “Still Got The Blues For You” by Gary Moore. A song that takes the listener to another world. A Siren Song.

In my story “Siren Song“, Hawk Hathaway’s soul is touched by a song, too, one that leads him to a life-changing dilemma. He listens to local jazz at The Gimlet Lounge, a bar above an old speakeasy, sitting in the dark, sipping on drinks served to him by attractive bartender Greta, who with her pierced eyebrow, plaid skirt, and biker boots is both from a different world and so out of his league.

For myself, listening to music while enjoying a refreshing drink (alcoholic or not, I’m not partial), soothes my soul and provides a calming effect that I appreciate more than usual during this troubled year. Here is a cocktail with a history as old as The Gimlet Lounge, and I’ve included a non-alcoholic version as well. It’s one of my favorites.

The French 75

The French 75 is a champagne cocktail that has been around since the early 1900s and got its name from the French artillery gun used during World War I. I enjoyed several of these when The National World War I Museum in Kansas City served them at their exciting evening events that commemorated the 100th anniversary of the end of The Great War. They are typically made with either cognac (French brandy) or gin. For cool fall and winter nights, I prefer them made with brandy, but on hot summer nights, a French 75 made with gin is particularly refreshing.

Serve in a coupe or flute. Makes one serving.

French 75

½ oz. cognac
½ oz. lemon juice
½ oz. simple syrup
3 oz. Champagne
Twist of lemon peel for garnish

Fill a shaker with ice and add cognac, lemon juice, and simple syrup. Shake, then strain into glass and top with Champagne. Add lemon peel.

French 75 Mocktail

3 oz. Tonic water
2 oz. Sprite
Twist of lemon peel for garnish

For the mocktail, pass on shaking over ice because both of the ingredients are carbonated. Instead, pour ingredients directly into a flute or coupe, and stir with a swizzle stick. Garnish with a twist of lemon peel.

The tonic water adds dryness to the drink, and there is no need to add lemon juice since Sprite already has lemon flavoring. I use Fever Tree Premium Indian Tonic Water.

Enjoy your drink, turn on the stereo or stream your music of choice, and if you have no dilemmas of your own to ponder, why not check out Hawk Hathaway’s in “Siren Song“?

Cheers!

All That Weird Jazz

Jazz. A music of improvisation, of passion, of its very own kind of magic. Considered by many to be the only truly original American form of music, it has since its birth in a smoky room somewhere also been tied to the strange, wrapped up in the supernatural, associated with the occult, at least in hints and shadows. Pro Se Productions now brings together several of the most innovative writers in genre fiction today in ALL THAT WEIRD JAZZ, telling the tales of the unusual between the notes, the magic behind the music.From straight up pulp action to ghostly noir to a dragon who digs Jazz more than anyone else, ALL THAT WEIRD JAZZ takes love for this unique musical styling to an all new level, complete with adventure, thrills, and even a chill or two.

Paperback Link: https://www.amazon.com/That-Weird-Jazz-Kimberly-Richardson/dp/B086Y3ZX4F/ref=sr_1_1?dchild=1&keywords=All+That+Weird+Jazz+M.A.+Monnin&qid=1601673703&s=books&sr=1-1

Ebook Link: https://www.amazon.com/That-Weird-Jazz-Kimberly-Richardson-ebook/dp/B086XGZN6J/ref=sr_1_2?dchild=1&keywords=All+That+Weird+Jazz+M.A.+Monnin&qid=1601673870&s=books&sr=1-2

About the Author

A. Monnin is an AF veteran and avocational archaeologist. She lives to travel, and can’t wait until her next foreign trip. Egypt, the French island of Guadaloupe, and the Balearic Islands are all on her agenda.

You can find her here:
Facebook: MA Monnin
Twitter: mamonnin1
Instagram: M.A.Monnin
www.mamonnin.com

UPDATE: The winner is…Fedora!
*~*~*

Story Game

Let’s get this party started!

I bought this little brainstorming tool years ago at some writers’ conference. I’ve used it only a few times—here! “Story Cubes” is a brainstorming game. You roll the dice and whatever pictures appear, face-up, are the ones you use to riff off a story.

Here’s the roll…

To make this fun, I’ll offer a prize—a $5 Amazon gift card to the winner!

Have fun with this! Don’t overthink it! 

Other Open Contests

1. Roxanne D. Howard: Type Dirty to Me (Giveaway) — Win an Amazon gift card!
2. Puzzle and “Tell Me a Story” Contest! — Win an Amazon gift card!

Along our writing journeys, it’s not uncommon for writers to struggle with confidence. One of the things we can do to build confidence is to recognize and overcome self-defeating behaviors, like negative self-talk. Negative thinking can be detrimental to our performance, make us doubt ourselves, and inhibit our creativity.

We all wonder if we have the stuff it takes. As beginners, we wonder if we have an inkling of talent. Once our talent is validated by other writers and readers, we still wonder if it’s good enough, if we have what it takes. It’s good to acknowledge that we don’t know it all and to have a desire to learn and grow, but doubt can hold us back. We shoot ourselves in the foot by creating and feeding feelings of inadequacy.

Being unprepared can leave us feeling inadequate, so reading, attending workshops, and staying informed on the craft of writing and the market is another way to help us feel prepared. When positive thinking is paired with common sense, we can stay open to possibilities.

Confidence can be built by setting and achieving goals, so it’s pretty important how we choose to set goals and measure them. Short term and long terms goals should be realistic and achievable. Don’t set yourself up for failure by setting a goal like, “I will be published by this time next year.” Unless you’re independently publishing, a goal like that is out of your control, and the result will leave you feeling helpless or like a failure. Set goals with smaller steps. A long-term goal might be to produce a polished product for submission with the next ten months. Then set short-term goals to make it happen: Two new pages a day or two hours of writing a day, for example. Perhaps take an online class or find a critique partner.

“Our doubts are traitors and make us lose the good we oft might win by fearing to attempt.” – William Shakespeare

Most of us were raised in a competitive and comparative environment, where our achievements were profiled and graphed into percentiles; where we were matched up against our peers as a gauge to see how we were doing. It’s no wonder so many of us have self-esteem issues and doubts about our abilities. Thank goodness teachers, counselors and parents have learned to work in teams to choose learning methods suitable for children of all capabilities. Students are treated as individuals and encouraged to learn at their own speed and in the manner best suited for them.

Sometimes, we make mistakes. Sometimes, a project crashes and burns. Sometimes, we have to do something wrong before we figure out how to do it right. And that’s okay—as long as we’re moving forward.

You have to be willing to make mistakes.

I know writers who never get started because they’re always planning, plotting, and talking about the book instead of putting words on pages. Know anyone like that? There are writing students (not actually writers yet) who read every book on the craft and attend all the workshops and conferences and ask questions and take notes and plan, plan, plan.

It’s a good thing to be teachable and eager to learn, but you can’t learn to write until you put words on paper. The people who don’t get that far want everything to be perfect before it gets on the page – or they want it to come out perfect on the first try, so they wait until they’re good enough. Guess what? Ain‘t gonna happen.

You have to be willing to make mistakes. You have to be willing to write badly in order to learn to write well. Ask yourself: What’s the worst that could happen?

“Confidence comes not from always being right but from not fearing to be wrong.”  – Peter T. McIntyre

I’ve been a worship leader for quite a few years, and I always say to my team of singers, “If you’re going to make a mistake, make it with confidence, and no one will know you didn’t intend it that way.” I have been known to sing the wrong notes or words, but I sing them with such authority that everyone follows along. Confidence grows with practice and with maturity.

I wrote a how-to-write book. It was a pretty big deal. Who was I to write a book that would be marketed beside admired and credible instructors? It was a lofty goal to write an instructional book, but I’d been leading workshops and teaching online classes for years, and I had a lot of encouragement from other writers, which built my confidence in my ability. I always ask myself, “What’s the worst thing that could happen?” Writing this type of book was something I’d thought about for a long time. It was as big of a step as writing or submitting my first book. My long-term goal was to submit it for publication. My short-term goals involved gathering my notes and thoughts, preparing the manuscript, and getting feedback.

Imagine my delight when the publisher I had dreamed of made an offer. The process was so different from my other publishing experiences that it was a stretch. The editor of Writing With Emotion, Tension and Conflict told me I should be proud of this project. And I am. I did something I had only dreamed of doing.

I have high hopes for the future generations of students and young adults receiving recognition for intrinsic value. We should all know that our value lies inside of us, not in our performance.

Some things just can’t be measured. What makes one book better than the next or one writer better than another? Only perspective. Only the reader, when you get right down to it. Because story-telling can be so subjective, I might enjoy a book you can’t finish, and a story I think is drivel could land on your keeper shelf.

No one can tell you whether or not you’re going to sell a book, publish fifty more or be a success. Another writer can read your work and assure you it’s good, but that’s not a guarantee. There are no guarantees when you start writing, and that can get frustrating.

As much as we’d love for there to be, there’s no writer’s crystal ball to foretell the future.

Take a man with a desire to run a hundred-meter race. He buys a pair of Nikes, goes out and gives running a shot, but he doesn’t do very well. Why not? He didn’t practice! He didn’t study how other runners achieve endurance through diet and exercise. He doesn’t know how good he really is until he’s trained by learning all he can, eating properly for energy and muscle and all that—and after he’s ready, after he’s prepared, by stretching to limber up and then running.

Then running again and again and again until he’s fast and he’s confident that he’s fast, and he’s ready to compete.

In many ways submitting a book is a lot like that. Your manuscript will be compared to all the others that cross an editor’s desk. It will be scrutinized for its ability to make the publishing house money in the marketplace—bottom line in this business. The only way you can have the confidence to know you’re submitting something with a chance of making it past that test is to learn your craft and practice, practice, practice. Work at writing and work at it until you get better, until you hit your personal stride. Then share it and get feedback from people you trust.

So how can you grow your confidence?

Confidence is gained by successfully completing a task and recognizing the accomplishment—repeatedly. By acknowledging a success, your brain processes, “I can do this again.”

We can’t nurture confidence if we don’t recognize or even appreciate what we’ve done. Don’t ever demean an accomplishment by saying or thinking, “I was just lucky” or “Anyone could have done it.”

Don’t look at a project as too large. Break it down into steps and accomplish them one at a time. If it’s helpful, record your page/time goals and accomplishments in your planner. Check them off as you reach and overtake each one. It’s like that joke, “How do you eat an elephant?”

One bite at a time.

Celebrate each success along the way.

Have a chapter one achievement award party or treat yourself to something special for milestones reached. Give yourself fun stickers or hearts on your calendar—something visual to note progress.

Learn from your mistakes. This might sound simple, but if one method didn’t work, try a different one. You can’t expect a different result from the same behavior.

“Ability is what you’re capable of doing. Motivation determines what you do. Attitude determines how well you do it.” – Lou Holtz

 Confidence is conditioned behavior.

Many years ago, a study was done at the University of Wisconsin. A scientist tied a mouse’s front feet together and placed the animal into the cage of another mouse. The mouse whose cage was being trespassed easily beat up the mouse with its feet tied. After that happened several times, the scientist put mice without tied feet into the cage. The mouse who’d won repeatedly was so confident by then that it took on and defeated mice even larger than itself. Under ordinary circumstances, that mouse would have run when it saw a larger opponent, but it had been conditioned until it believed it couldn’t lose. And it didn’t.

Condition yourself.

Congratulate yourself.

Celebrate your successes.

Sure, sometimes self-doubt is much deeper, it’s inadequacies we’ve carried with us from childhood and relationships and past hurts and experiences. But there’s help for those things, too, in recognizing it and getting help if need be and working on it. You’re a valuable person. You’re worth it. You deserve to give yourself the gift of improving yourself and reaching for your dream.

“If you want confidence, act as if you already have it.”  – William James

Whisper My Name

Ripped from the headlines…

Laurel Whitaker has spent her entire life burying her infamous past and becoming a normal person.

Joe Cavanaugh suspects she’s in trouble. His job demands honesty, and it’s his nature is to protect.

Will Laurel’s truth be her undoing…or his?

BUY LINK: https://amzn.to/3hl5a5g

About the Author

Cheryl is the author of more than fifty books, both historical and contemporary. Her stories have earned numerous RITA nominations, Romantic Times awards and are published in over a dozen languages. One thing all reviewers and readers agree on regarding Cheryl’s work is the degree of emotion and believability. In describing her stories of second chances and redemption, readers and reviewers use words like, “emotional punch, hometown feel, core values, believable characters and real-life situations.”

Amazon and Goodreads reviews show her popularity with readers.

With a 4.9 star rating on amazon, Cheryl’s bestselling non-fiction books, Writing With Emotion, Tension & Conflict and Write Smart, Write Happy by Writers Digest Books are available in print and digital.

UPDATE: The winner is…Mary McCoy!
*~*~*

For a chance to win a $5 Amazon gift card, solve the puzzle and tell me a story! Doesn’t have to be long or even good—just have fun!

With my hand still in a soft cast, I’m scrambling to put this bad boy to bed before it’s release next Tuesday. It’s going to be a shorter story than I had hoped (so I might be dropping the price), and so far, it’s very, very sexy. So if that’s not your thing—be warned! 🙂

Opening scene from Lawless…

Ty Nolan ignored the nudge against his shin. Last thing he wanted to do was open his eyes. From the already harsh glare burning behind his eyelids, he knew opening them would be damn painful.

“Ty, come on. Wake up,” came a harsh whisper. “Sheriff’s here.”

Sheriff? What the hell? And what was Tank doing in his bedroom? Another moment passed before he realized his mattress was damn flat. Where the hell was he?

“Ty,” came another voice, this one louder and with an irritated edge. “Hate to interrupt your beauty sleep, but I’d like a word.”

Fuck, it really was the sheriff. Which answered the question of why his bed was so damn uncomfortable. He peeked in the direction of Sheriff Josh Penske’s voice—bars stood between them. Oh hell, I’m going to hear about it now.

With his head pounding, he accepted Tank’s hand up.

His buddy grinned. “Never knew you were such a lightweight, bro.”

Ty grimaced at Tank’s wisecrack—and his crushing grip. Tank was built like a…well, a tank. Ty had played football for the defensive team in high school, so he wasn’t exactly puny. It took a few seconds to stuff his shirt back into his jeans, wincing as his bruised knuckles brushed denim. Before he turned toward Josh, he raked a hand through his hair. Josh stood beside the open cell door, shaking his head.

Good Lord, was he about to lose his job? Be suspended?

Josh turned and led the way down the corridor to the station’s bullpen door. Ty was glad he was still too hung over to blush as he completed the walk of shame past his fellow deputies, whose mouths were crimped, no doubt to hold back their laughter. Josh led him inside his office then waved him toward the vacant chair in front of his desk.

Ty slumped into the chair. He was going to be fired, he just knew it.

Josh sat back in his chair and turned his chair to the side, his gaze going to the window. “You know, I thought it was a simple assignment.”

“To be fair, I had the night off—”

Josh held up a hand to cut him off. “No matter whether you’re in uniform or not, your duty is to keep the peace, not start the dang fight.”

At this point, Ty knew better than to try to correct Josh’s impression of what had happened the evening before. He’d only piss him off worse than he already was.

“I don’t know what to do with you…”

Ty wished he’d framed that statement as a question, because he would’ve offered suggestions—short of firing him, of course. He liked his job.

And he needed it. He needed to succeed if he ever wanted to put in his application to join the Texas Rangers. He sat straighter in his chair. He’d take his lumps and move on. Figure out what was next in his life. Life after the Army wasn’t turning out to be the cakewalk he’d expected.

“Can you imagine my surprise when the mayor called to inform me she’d seen you hauled off in handcuffs, along with a dozen other ‘miscreants’—her word?”

The mayor hadn’t been so keen on this weekend’s festivities. He’d had a bird’s-eye view of just how unhappy she was when she’d marched into the station the morning before and asked Josh to lock the fairground gates.

She’d changed her mind about allowing bikers to gather there. “Yes, I know I approved the club’s permit, but have you seen how many bikes are parked all up and down Main Street? Caldera will not be another Waco!” she’d said, tapping her foot.

Ty had grimaced at the mention of the infamous shootout between members of two rival motorcycle clubs, that had spilled out into a restaurant parking lot where cops had violently ended that shit. Ty’s Veterans Posse Club wasn’t like that. Not involved with drugs or criminal activities. Opposed to violence, they did however get pissy about disrespect from any other club. Composed completely of former vets, the club gave its members a safe place to be, with people who had shared similar experiences that most folks couldn’t empathize with or even conceive of.

What had happened last night at Ruby’s Roadhouse had been…his fault. One too many beers and a sneering, snide comment from another club’s snarky member, who shouldn’t have been there in the first place, and he’d waded right into a fight.

“Look, I got the down-low from Ruby at the bar,” Josh said. “She said that guy from the club was being a dick to one of the waitresses, and that when you approached him, he insulted your club…”

Ty opened his mouth, and Josh gave a curt shake of his head, again cutting him off.

“Ruby Tackett’s bar got trashed. I asked her what she wanted to have happen.”

Here goes… Ruby was a hardass. She’d turned off the jukebox to read the riot act to all the bikers who’d filled her bar last night—before shit had gone down. “No fights,” she’d said, her arms crossed over her ample bosom. “No hassling my girls. When I say you’re cut off, you’re cut off. No fights! Got it?”

He and his buddies had all grinned and nodded. “Yes, ma’am,” they’d answered.

And still, all hell had broken loose.

“She expects your club to clean up the mess.”

Ty nodded. “Of course.”

“She’s closing the bar for the duration of the convention. But she already has a booth set up at the fairgrounds where she’ll be serving beer in the campground area—to keep the visitors off the road and out of her place. She wants you behind the bar with her.”

“What?” Ty sat straighter. He’d thought the last thing she’d want to do was spend more time looking at his face.

“For the duration,” Josh said with a firm nod. “In the meantime, your buddies are cleaning up her place. And she’ll have a bill you can all divvy up to pay for the damages.” Josh was silent for a long moment.

Ty’s brain was still swimming in tequila, so he was slow to realize Josh was waiting for something. He pushed up from his chair. “That’s it?”

One brow lifted. “Do you want it to be more?”

Ty cleared his throat. “I still have a job?”

Josh rolled his eyes. “Think you’re the first deputy in Caldera to get shit-faced and start a fight?”

Ty rocked back on his heels. “Won’t happen again, Sheriff.”

“I’m counting on that, Ty. Keep the fucking peace out there. Now, get home and get cleaned up. She needs you there by two.”

Ty left the sheriff’s office and strode back through the bullpen, this time feeling as though a weight had lifted off his shoulders. He still had a job and his badge. Things could have gone down so much worse—if Ruby had pressed charges. He had a lot to make up for to get back into her good graces.

“So, buddy,” Tank called out from a desk. “Couldn’t help hearing… You’re gonna be spending time with Ruby?”

Ty aimed a scowl his way. “I’ll be keeping the peace.”

“She’s gonna expect you to be helping her out. You’ll be handin’ out beers and mixin’ Cosmos.”

Ty huffed a breath. “I’ll be protecting her.”

“From behind the bar. Think she’s gonna let you just stand there when her staff is back at her place putting everything back to rights?”

“I’ll do whatever the woman wants. She wants me to mix a damn martini, I’ll figure it out.”

Deputy Roman Perez sat on the edge of the desk Tank occupied. “Sounds like Josh really laid the hammer down—you providing protection to Ruby.” He chuckled. “Maybe the job’s too hard for you, buddy.” He waggled his eyebrows. “If you need someone to show you how it’s done…”

Tank snorted. “Ruby’s hot. How hard can it get?” Then his eyes widened. “Oh.”

Perez laughed. “Yeah, I recommend baggy pants, man. The woman’s built like a brick house.”

Ty narrowed his eyes, not liking the deputy’s sly tone. “Maybe you should keep your comments to yourself…buddy.”

“Yeah,” Tank said, smacking Perez in the belly. “Be respectful.”

“I’m just sayin’…” Perez said, holding up his hands in surrender. “Keeping the peace might be hard when all those guys start crowding around to get a peek at her tits.”

Ty stiffened. “The only one who’s gonna peek at her tits…” He didn’t finish the sentence because he just realized what he’d said and his friends were busting a gut laughing at him.

Yeah, he was toast. And he’d have to look hard to find a pair of jeans loose enough to hide his attraction to the pretty bar owner.

The happiest of all lives is a busy solitude.” ~ Voltaire

At least, that is what this shut-in/hermit writer believes. And then I laugh. I may live in the country, but the only time I have solitude is in the early, early morning before everyone else is awake.

So, tell me how you feel about that quote! 🙂

Open Contests & Giveaways

1. Blathering a Bit & Open Contests! (New Contest, too!) — Ends tomorrow! Win an Amazon gift card!
2. Brenda Whiteside: Sex, Drugs, and Rock and Roll (Contest) — Win a FREE book!
3. Another FREE Love in Lockdown story! Plus, all the open CONTESTS! — Download your FREE story!!
4. A New Puzzle-Contest! Have Fun! — Win an Amazon gift card!
5. Roxanne D. Howard: Type Dirty to Me (Giveaway) — Win an Amazon gift card!