It’s hard to be chatty with one-handed typing. I say that, but I just finished a novella typing with one hand and one finger. It can be done if you’re properly motivated! No excuses!
I’ve been plotting my new book and another series I’ll be showing you soon. Well, as soon as I can get a cover for you to drool over. It’s not easy looking for the right series name, the right branded look for a cover. I love my Montana Bounty Hunters books’ “look”— sis (Elle James, if ya didn’t know) did an awesome job with that.
I spent (er, wasted an afternoon and evening looking for the right guy to be on the first cover. I still have no clue. Nothing jumped out to me from the usual sites. If any of you out there have recommendations for photo stock sites with really hot, rugged men, I’m game to go look!
I spent an hour cleaning my desk. If you could see the amount of crap I keep on my desktop (toys, cups of pens, those weird solar-powered dancing figures, notebooks, and on and on, you’d see what I mean. I’m not taking a photo because you’d call one of those hoarders shows or sic Marie Kondo on me, but I don’t roll with Feng Shui. I roll with clutter.
So, tonight after midnight, Lawless releases! Expect fun, sexy times. Due to my hand, it’s shorter than what I’ve been writing lately, but it’s satisfying and sweet, and the heroine is badass in her own way. The hero is an ex-Ranger and presently a Texas deputy—so a guy who can handle thangs. And he has chest hair, which the guy on the cover clearly does not!
A few minutes ago, I went upstairs to start coffee for my dd. She’s got all four kids in the sunroom with the windows open. Outside, it’s sunny and just right—breezy with just a hint of cool. They’re gathered around the table out there with their school laptops and tablets, doing their homework. My dd’s in her groove in the mornings, making sure everyone is keeping up on assignments and getting to their zoom meetings on time. She does all that while doing dishes and laundry. She’s amazeballs.
2020 will be a year everyone in our family will look back on with mixed emotions. I think the fact we’ve pulled together as a family and spent so much time figuring out how to be happy will be something we’ll look back on with fondness. Everything we do is purposeful. Every little victory is worthy of celebration—a movie night, a special dinner.
Which gets me to the coming holiday…Halloween. I’d love your suggestions for making it fun and memorable. We’ll be skipping the door-to-door stuff and the many activities I’m sure most folks will still be doing around town (folks here aren’t much on science or masking). So, offer up ideas for things for us to do around the homeplace, and you’ll be entered to win a $5 Amazon gift card!
This is a pic from one of my favorite Halloween memories! My family takes their costumes seriously!
Unfortunately, I won’t be able to accompany the kids tonight when they go trick-or-treating. 🙁 I’m fighting a horrible cough that’s making my back and ribs hurt like hell. If you all partake, I hope you have fun! Even if it’s only to rave over the kids’ costumes when they come to your door for candy!
Is the pic festive enough? I love busy images, so this one’s fun for me! Halloween is our family’s favorite holiday. We go all out with costumes. And then we make a mad dash around the surrounding area, looking for fun, kid-friendly trick-or-treat parties. And then, there are the photos. We take them every year. These are a few of my favorites…
I think the 5-year-old was 2 when this was taken. She was already great with the camera. She still loves getting into character.
Here’s the pic of all the kids, taken in the front yard. We’d had hay delivered for the horses…
This was a couple of years ago. Note the werewolf in the wheelchair. We took the photo in front of the town’s cemetery gates…
There’s an “extra” kid in the mix in a ninja outfit. My dd tends to gather kids for these events. This year, we’re taking the van and an extra car to ferry everyone around. I’m not 100% sure I’m going. I had a late night. But I’ll try to get a nap, because I’d hate to miss the fun!
For a chance to win a $5 Amazon gift card,
tell me what your Halloween plans are!
Oops! Adding one more fave! The 14-year-old way back when. She went as an Aztec princess…
This month, my guest post on Delilah’s blog will be a few words plus a link to a FREE SHORT STORY, Emily’s Very Special Halloween.
What happened is that one afternoon I had this sketchy idea for writing a Halloween story. I thought, okay, something with dark mystery would be nice. I’d figure it out the next morning.
During the night, this idea came to me about a book and a magical man. Next morning, I could think of nothing else. I sat down at my desk and by noon, the story was finished.
I’ve never had that happen before.
So…I hope you enjoy it. I’m still a little creeped out by the whole process, and I’m absolutely not going out for Halloween. Anywhere. My two black cats are enough, thank you very much.
Usually, that’s how it works for me with a character appearing out of the shadows. They start talking, showing me the story. This one is spooky, which is not my norm. Rest assured there are plenty of others that will wet your panties and keep you up too late.
Here’s the first part of the story:
The book fell, quite literally, into Emily’s hands. Teetering on the tall ladder, she set down the duster and examined the small volume. Bound in blackened ancient leather, the book seemed unremarkable. The title, visible more from the indentation on the leather than by any surviving original lettering, said “Spells and Incantations.”
Briefly, she leafed through the brittle pages. Elaborate scrollwork ornamented the letters, which didn’t form words she knew. At one random page, she tried to read the text and succeeded only in mumbling nonsense phrases.
She’d never seen it before, but that wasn’t a particularly odd circumstance considering the thousands of books crammed onto the shelves along the narrow aisles of Taylor’s Used and Collectible Books. Mr. Taylor himself, a distracted older man with a pinched face and thick glasses, liked to joke that the books bred when the lights were out and he took no responsibility for the overflow that sometimes ended up in hopeless stacks partially blocking the aisles.
Then he’d look over his glasses and wink in an admission that yes, on his off hours from tending the store, he roamed through garage sales and flea markets and browsed the internet to find more books. As far as Emily was concerned, Mr. Taylor cared less about selling books than he did about acquiring them. She’d seen him become visibly pained when someone insisted on purchasing a book that he held in particular regard. Which more or less applied to a majority of the works in the store, a ramshackle red brick structure on the corner of a minor street on the edge of downtown.
Turning to replace the slender tome, Emily frowned at the crammed shelves. She tried pushing the books over where she’d dusted but there was absolutely no room for another book. Even more puzzling, additional books lay on top of the upright ones, filling every inch of space. She looked around wondering where the book actually fell from, then tucked it in her oversized apron pocket, stifled a sneeze, and climbed down.
At the front counter, she set the book down as a man walked up. There had been only a handful of people in the store this morning, not exactly one of their busier days. Somehow this guy had slipped by her. Had she not heard the bell ring?
“How can I help you?” she said, trying not to gape at his appearance.
He studied her with intensely dark eyes, almost frightening at first glance but then engaging in a fascinating way. Short dark hair and a slight after-five shadow set off his chiseled features, a combination of strong aquiline nose, stern brow, and sensual lips she couldn’t avoid noticing. His lips seemed to move slightly even though he wasn’t talking.
He cleared his throat. “I’m looking for a particular book,” he said. The corner of his mouth crooked in the hint of a smile. “Do you have a section for vintage and collectibles?”
His melodic baritone voice sent chills down her spine that collected at her nipples and pressed them to hard points. Almost breathless, she clutched the edge of the counter, pointing to the place she’d just been dusting.
“Aisle 5,” she said. “Halfway down. There’s a ladder if you need it.”
Download the full story at Smashwords and use coupon code CY64F. Hurry! Coupon good only through October 12.
P.S. My apologies to Delilah fans who are also subscribers to my newsletter. This free story offer was extended in the October issue of Liz’s Hot News, meaning you didn’t get anything new here. But stay tuned—more free stuff coming to newsletter subscribers! For those not yet subscribed, when you join the fun, you’ll get excerpts from forthcoming works, short stories, coupon deals, previews and more. You can unsubscribe at any time, and it’s FREE. Easy signup athttp://eepurl.com/bHOyS9
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!
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.
Thank you Delilah for inviting me to your blog. It is an honor and pleasure to be here.
It’s October. One of my favorite months. The colorful leaves are falling like a slow rain, air has cooled off, and the grandkids are getting excited for Halloween.
We are big on Halloween in my house. We start looking for scary costumes in August. The scarier the better. On the big day, the little guys show up around four to wow me. Of course, I pretend to faint from fright and then invite them in for pizza. By six, we head through the neighborhood to trick or treat every house that has a light on.
I’ve often wondered what the kids would do if the resident asked them to do a trick first. Anyway, when the bags are full and my feet are ready to fall off, we come back to grandma’s house to check out the loot and have dessert. The kids love it. I do, too.
Besides spending time with my hubby and grandkids, I love to write. In the last three years I have published three books in a series. All three are stand-alone. The final book in the Garrett series, Justin’s Gamble is a sexy, fast-paced, suspenseful romance.
An annual veterinary convention in Las Vegas turns into anything but routine for Justin Garrett. Bored, tired, and a little too much to drink, Justin left the ho-hum conversations in the Blue Room to get fresh air before going to his room for the night. His short walk for a break is interrupted by a beautiful damsel in distress. He learns pretty quick she’s not what she seems when he is ordered to perform a service for a biker gang and their leader who is running an illegal dog fight. When his expert doctoring fails, he believes his life is over. He is beaten unrecognizable, and shoot trying to hide from the evil men. Unable to locate him, the bikers believe he is dead or dying and leave him for the buzzards. It didn’t matter. He’s lost, bleeding, and alone in a remote area. He was going to die, anyway.
Mara had been on the streets of Vegas since she was sixteen. She had seen a lot of things but nothing compared to the gentle hands and medical skills of the handsome vet. He had worked tirelessly to save the wounded animal. She had to find him and see if he was still alive. She watched the bikers leave the secluded desert and fired up her Harley. Even though she finds and saves him, she underestimated the threat of her ex-boyfriend and his gang of bikers.
They have to get out of Vegas and back to the safety of Justin’s ranch in Texas. Around every corner the pair have to run for their lives.
I’m excited about the next few months, discounting cooking Thanksgiving dinner and shopping for Christmas. My next book is titled, My Name is Grace. It is totally different from the Garrett Series. It is a love story that is an emotional rollercoaster. Grab your tissues. Faith, hope, and belief is all Grace has left after waking up on a railroad track, bruised and battered, with no memory. Of course, there is murder and crime involved that leaves a tall, sexy, small-town sheriff scratching his head. The book ends with a huge surprise. I can already hear you saying, “I didn’t see that coming.” I will have it out within the next couple of months. Watch for it.