Friday, August 11th, 2017
A little over a year ago I had one of my short stories published with a series called Candy Hearts and released by the Wild Rose Press. Each story in the series revolved around Valentines Day, and each had to contain reference to the heart-shaped sugar candies with the goofy sayings on them like: Love U Forever; Be Mine; Take Me, I’m Yours. You get the picture. My story was titled For Keeps and it was a lot of fun to write.
When it came time to promote the story, the other Candy Hearts authors were willing to visit my blog but they only wanted to give me what they called a Media Kit. If I wanted to visit their blogs to promote For Keeps, I had to supply a Media Kit. Known among my friends and family as the Woman Who Needs to Get Out More, I had no clue what to do and was ready to hang it up.
So I asked and one of the authors very kindly showed me how to create a Media Kit. Step by step, cut and paste, be imaginative, she said. And whaddya know, it worked. Within one year I was teaching others how to create a Media Kit for each of their books. I call that Paying It Forward.
Now we come to Twitter, Tweeting and other similar social communication which do not involve dialing a phone. Up until six months ago I had no clue what Twitter or Tweeting meant, beyond a classroom of giggling eight year-olds who recently discovered Justin Timberlake or that man-child Bieber person. Okay, I’ll admit to hearing about tweeting when I tuned into Mike & Mike on ESPN every morning. These two guys tweet their . . . posteriors off several times a day. And it works—for them. Not me, I swore. I’d swallow my tongue before I did this “at hash tag whatever”. Like that’ll work.
Then I was invited to join a group of six authors to create stories for a box-set anthology set in a casino-resort near Niagara Falls in Western New York. One of the rules was each participating author was expected to tweet often, like daily. Okay okay, I grumbled. I’ll do this if I have to. If it kills me. I researched, I practiced, I learned. Now I’m helping others tweet. Wahoo. Let me tell you, I can re-tweet anyone’s butt off.
Facebook? Learned that one, sort of, after much trial and error. Then passed it on.
Pinterest? That, I learned, is soooo much fun, just like friends had been telling me for years. I now have Pinterest boards for each of my books, and I’m scheduled to present an on-line course in the value of creating Pinterest boards—not just for authors but for anyone interested.
By far, the best Paying It Forward concept I now employ is making seat belt cushions for patients who undergo chest surgery [mastectomies, pacemaker insertions, PICC line insertions for chemotherapy]. What began as a simple survival technique to stop the whining from the back seat, “this strap hurts my neck, Nana. Can’t I take it off?” evolved into helping others infinitely less fortunate than I.
Paying It Forward. It works for me.
Hey, you never know.
I love to hear from readers.
You can find me at:
my blogs: www.WildWomenAuthorsx2.blogspot.com
Thanks for inviting me to stop by, Delilah. I appreciate it very much!
Thursday, August 10th, 2017
Hey, I’m Viv. Thanks, Delilah, for letting me come in here and couch-surf in your pretty online space. I write sexy sci-fi romance and just recently started working on a new book and thought, hey, this nascent end of the book-writing process might be interesting to some people. Maybe? Hopefully.
The Dreaded Blank Doc of Oh No You Can’t
A Love Story
It’s just a straight line, blinking in a backlit sea of white. It doesn’t speak, doesn’t laugh, doesn’t even present a memeable visual. Yet it mocks me.
“Hello, cursor at the head of a brand new book,” I say brightly.
“Hey, now, that wasn’t necessary. We’re pals. I mean, aren’t we? After last year, we ought to be.”
We wrote two full-length books* together in 2016, this computer and I, and we revised another.** I stroked these keys, teased magic from them, warmed them with the friction of creation and the ballsy lack of a cooling fan.
“What sort of answer is that? Can we at least talk this out? I kind of thought we had something, you know, special.”
White is not a pretty color. An artist pal insists that in an additive situation like a computer screen, white is the presence of all colors. When it disguises itself as a story, trust me, white is the absence of all hope.
“Okay, fine, yeah, I might’ve ghosted or mumble-mumble-didn’twriteformonths-mumble. My bad. But! I never stopped thinking about you. Swear. Check out this notebook full of research nibblets and theme notes and character descriptions and story beats. I effing dreamed about you.” Whew. Just managed to hold back the expletive there.
If you’d asked before today, I would have sworn a blinking cursor could not look patently disbelieving or just a little bit pissed.
It gives the minutest of pauses before the next blink. Sarcastic little turd.
“Look, I’m okay with a reboot on this relationship. How about… I dunno, a hundred words today? They don’t even have to be good words. Just a start. What say?”
I don’t wait for an answer, just type***.
Nina struggled to give each a proper space in memory, but all the thousands of worlds blurred together. On one, a red-dust surface and giants who exhaled fire. On another, twelve-legged mothers beneath a canopy of blue leaves, stringing cradles for their newborns and slinging poison to the hunters who came for them in the longest night. A moon of blood-veined ice and people who sang to stars, hoping for rescue and receiving annihilation.
Blindly, apologetically, with a backbeat of I-missed-you and a promise of it-will-get-better. Just hang in there with me.
Failures. Every world she’d visited had been a failure, and she’d watched trillions suffer punishment for their sins.
Cradles, falling. Giants, weeping. Hunters in the dark.
The blinks come faster now, as if the document pants, strung taut and ready for the next word. I long to make it breathless, unable to stand even a moment disconnected from my hot little fingers, and suddenly I’m swimming in hope.
This is what it’s like to start a new book. This is how it feels. At least, for me.
And I love it so hard.
* One of those books is Perfect Gravity, available November 7, 2017 and pre-orderable now.
** Wanted and Wired, a sexy cyberpunk action story with lots of kissing (actually available).
*** Complete typing vomit, first-draft nonsense not even read by my critique partners. (Hi, you guys. This will be coming at you soon. Promise.)
Wednesday, August 9th, 2017
So, I have this goal every year that I won’t miss a single day posting something new on this blog. It’s maybe a silly goal, but a girl has to shoot for something. Anyway, I was up so dang early today—5:45—that I didn’t get a chance to post before I left because I had to get to my dd’s. I promised myself I’d post once I got there, but then I was covered up in kids and dogs, and I only got home a few minutes ago. So, here I am!
Some of you may remember the 7-year-old, now 8, who’s had cancer in her leg twice. Well, today was her latest six-month check-up, which was why I was holding down the home front while my daughter zoomed up to Little Rock for her appointment at Children’s Hospital. After the last time her cancer appeared, she had her tibia removed and replaced with a donor bone. Then it was filled with her own bone material in hopes it would grow with her. The center of the top of the bone filled in nicely, but the ankle area wasn’t progressing as well. Today, the doctor says there’s been progress—slow, yes, but enough so that when she goes to school next week, she doesn’t have to be in a wheelchair. She’ll wear a “clam cast”—one she puts on and takes off—to protect her, and she’ll use a cane, but she’s on her feet! Which also means she’ll be able to ride the bus—something she’s yearned to do.
That’s my “real life” news. Tomorrow, I’m hoping to remain at my desk long enough to get some actual writing done. We’ll see. There’s always something.
And don’t forget. I posted a contest yesterday. It’s still open, so be sure to check it out. And tonight after midnight, Reined In releases! So be sure to get your copy! Good night and thanks for all your support! This tired woman’s heading to bed. ~DD
Tuesday, August 8th, 2017
On August 21st, all kinds of yummy goodness will release all over online bookstores. That sound a little too graphic? Well, that was on purpose, because the stories in both series, Delta Blue and Delta Heat, are hot, raunchy sexfests that include BDSM and menages with friends. Both were previously released with Samhain, but have found new homes with Entangled. So, if you haven’t read them before, you’re in for a treat! And if you have, no worries because there’s more to come!
For a chance to win a $5 Amazon gift card, answer me this…
Which is your preference for hero? Blue or Fire?
Click on the covers below to pre-order your copies!
Click on the covers below to pre-order your copies!
Monday, August 7th, 2017
The hero, Dare Logan, is in the midst of a tropical tempest, on a cruise ship. His ex is on the small tropical island he’s just left. And he can’t stand where he is.
The storm was a bitch, approaching near gale.
Dare leaned into the railing around the hurricane deck, his fingers white-knuckling the cold metal, the relentless wind buffeting him and forming his jacket and pants so hard against his body they were like a second skin.
Freezing. He was so damn cold.
The wall of wind, unyielding.
He sucked in a breath through his nose, lips clamped together. He’d opened his mouth a moment ago, and airborne spray and some marine concoction had hurtled in as the torrent of air had whipped his breath away. No, thanks.
He stared, gaze narrowed, at the boiling sea. Watched the waves dancing crazily, froth bursting into life then gone from existence the next second as new sections of briny ocean reared. Strained to see the island he’d left just a few short hours ago, and made out the grey shapes of palms in the distance bowing in the ferocious wind.
“A mess.” One of the crewmen appeared at his side, and he felt strangely comforted by the presence of another human. “Captain wants everyone inside.”
Dare didn’t answer, just kept his eyes straight ahead. A thousand possibilities cycling through his mind. Considering.
The relentless storm. What the gale force winds were doing to the water. Heaving it, slashing it into sharp lines that could cut.
How a bunch of tiny humans could protect themselves on land against Mother Nature’s evil bitch step sister. Read the rest of this entry »
Sunday, August 6th, 2017
Thanks Delilah, for having me.
We’re snowbirds. Every year when it gets cold up north we head for the sunny south. Our resort has multiple activities and crafts. Each year I try something new – watercolor painting, ukulele, and two years ago I tried glass fusion, and now I’m addicted.
Glass fusion is the technique used to join at least two glass pieces together by partly melting the glass at high temperature in either a small kiln or a large kiln.
I started by making earrings. I thought they would be easy. I learned to find a design, pick the glass and the colors. Since you need at least two pieces of glass it’s usually a color plus a clear piece either on top or underneath. You need to find or make a pattern and the two pieces have to match up when placed together. For jewelry they are placed in a small kiln for over four hours. After they cool down you add the backing or posts.
Last year I advanced to trays, serving dishes and bowls. The process is the same, just on larger surfaces. I’m a panda person so my favorite piece is my panda plate. I used a decal which you put on prior to fusing. I do it for fun, but many people do it and sell their pieces. I didn’t use glass fusion in my last book but I’m considering adding it to a new one. My latest book, By Design, came out in June. By Design is about cloning.
Nurse Evie Dalton succumbs to greed and a chance to work with sexy Dr. Adam Marsden. She accepts a position at an isolated hospital with an onsite animal farm, screams in the night, and mysterious limos arriving in the dark. People disappear and turn up dead. There’s no way to leave and no communication outside the town.
Dr. Adam Marsden left his past behind. Now he has it all; a great job, money, and a chance to buy his own hospital. But he hadn’t counted on Evie Dalton. Because of him, she’s at risk and might be the next victim.
A slender woman, maybe in her mid-thirties, wearing a simple, but very expensive designer black suit and hat, stepped out and tripped up the stairs in her four inch heels. Diamonds flashed on her wrist and her ears.
The driver closed the back door.
When she reached the top step she turned toward the driver. “Charles, check with my husband in about a week. I should be ready by then.”
“Yes ma’am.” He nodded, slid back behind the wheel, and turned the key. The engine purred quietly as it slid down the driveway. The taillights disappeared into the night.
Grethe Byrne watched the car fade away.
“You have what we want?” the woman asked.
“Of course, that’s why you’re here, isn’t it?” Nurse Byrne snapped.
“No. I mean exactly. Do you have exactly what we ordered? White blonde hair, sky blue eyes, IQ of at least 130?”
“Yes. Don’t worry. It will be exactly what you ordered. Did you bring the balance of your payment? In cash and small bills?”
“Yes of course. I’ve kept my part of the arrangement. You had better keep yours.”
Saturday, August 5th, 2017
UPDATE: The winner is Jennifer Beyer!
* * * * *
Next Thursday, Reined In , Book 7 in the Lone Star Lovers series, releases—again. Yes, it’s another of the stories I got the rights to from Samhain when they closed their doors. If you’ve never read it before, then you can pretend it’s brand new.
This one’s a standalone, so you don’t have to have read any of the series to fully enjoy it. I’ve included an excerpt below to tease you. You’ll get to know my heroine and her two cowboys pretty well by the time you get to the end of the chapter, and then you can imagine what sorts of games they play as they rush toward their Happy Ever After!
If you’re curious about the rest of the series, just click on the covers!
For a chance to win one of the stories above, answer me this:
Do you think you could love living on a ranch?
Who says a cowgirl can’t have it all?
Stormy is a rancher’s daughter through and through, and although she went away to college, her soul is firmly rooted in home ground–and the cowboys she grew up tormenting. When she hears her father might be selling the ranch, she packs her bags and high tails it for home, terrified she might never get another chance to lasso the heart of one of her cowboys before the hands scatter to the four winds.
For Cam and Joe, foreman and wrangler on the ranch, Stormy was a pain in the seat of their Wranglers. But when she roars back onto the ranch, the spoiled brat they remember emerges from the cloud of dust in skin-tight jeans and spike heels and all grown up.
It only takes a hot second to figure out she’s hell-bent on seduction. But if she thinks they’re going to make it easy for her to pick which cowboy she wants most, she’s sadly mistaken. And who says she has to choose one?
Pre-order your copy here!
Excerpt from Reined In…
The little red Miata ground to a halt, kicking up caliche to pepper the porch’s underskirting like shrapnel.
Joe Halloran suppressed a grin and tipped up the cowboy hat riding low over his brow with a lazy finger. Minutes ago, when the sound of an engine had screamed down the long private drive, he’d groaned because this was his first break of the day and he really wasn’t up for company. But as soon as he’d seen who it was, he settled deeper into his rocking chair.
Trouble had arrived. And about damn time.
Without moving from his chair, he slid his boots inches to the left on the porch railing to get a better view as the driver ground the gearshift into park. Joe glanced to the side. “What the hell do you suppose she’s doin’ here, Cam?”
Seated beside him, his buddy grunted from beneath the hat he had dipped low enough to shade his entire face. “Not a clue. Suppose her old man let somethin’ slip?” Read the rest of this entry »