Archive for August, 2011

Plotter vs. Pantser

Monday, August 29th, 2011

Today I’m gabbing a little about plotting versus not plotting. Here’s just a wee bit of opinion on the two.


*New writers often think there is a wrong way and a right way to write books. They eagerly join writing groups and devour how-to books with the idea that a gold answer on “how to write a book” will be dropped in their lap. There’s nothing wrong with this. Wanting to learn something new guarantees you’ll be curious enough to ask plenty of questions.

*In the process of learning, writers hear two words tossed around frequently. Pantser and plotter. There are plenty of pros and cons for both types of approaches to writing a novel. Contrary to what a writer may hear, there is absolutely nothing wrong with writing either way.

*What becomes a problem is when an author tries to jam a square peg into a round hole and allows someone to tell them they should be a pantser or a plotter.  This doesn’t mean new writers shouldn’t learn craft. It means they have to take care that they are not writing according to so many strict rules there is no creativity left in their writing process. I’ve seen new writers become so frustrated that want to stop writing because the “rules” suck the creativity right out of them.

Plotter vs. Pantser

*A plotter needs structure when they write. They often need charts, diagrams and outlines to feel comfortable.  Many times they need to understanding what the beginning, middle, and end of the book before they start writing. Not knowing things ahead of time can create significant anxiety for the writer who is a plotter.

*A pantser needs varying degrees of freedom. A pantser may have a title or an overarching idea for a book based on a time period, a concept, or an individual character. They may know one or two of these ideas up front. Or they may start with a single scene that intrigues them. They will rarely know the end of their book. (I only did this one time with one book…where I knew the ending.) Panster’s may have basic ideas about who their characters are and may do character charts, but creating a synopsis can sometimes destroy their desire to write a book. Most of the time outlining their books beforehand damages their ability to write. Writing a synopsis of their book beforehand can destroy the muse and create writer’s block.

*Many authors discover they work best combining these two ways of doing things. It’s even possible an author may be a plotter for one book and a pantser for another if it feels right.

The Controversy

*There is nothing wrong with either way of writing if it gets the job done. I have run into plotters who think pantser writers waste time. They honestly can’t understand how not outlining or plotting up front can prove productive. Whole books have been written on if you “only do it this way, your book will be easier to write.” Well, it might. And it might not. No one ever said writing a book was easy. If it was, everyone would be doing it.

*In Anne Lamott’s fantastic book BIRD BY BIRD, she describes the problem many pantsers encounter if they try and force themselves into being a plotter when it isn’t natural for them, “Characters should not, conversely, serve as pawns for some plot you’ve dreamed up…I say don’t worry about plot. Worry about the characters. Let what they say or do reveal who they are and be involved in their lives, and keep asking yourself, ‘Now what happens?’…Your characters had something in mind all along that was brighter and much more meaningful than what you wanted to impose on them.”

I love that!

Until Thursday, write those books the way you wanna write ’em!


Weird Things You Don’t Know About Me

Thursday, August 25th, 2011

Hey all,

I don’t think any amount of caffeine can wake me up today. With that in mind, I thought of some weird things you might not know about me. I was hoping you could share some weird things about you!

My favorite spooky movie is The Exorcist, but I also love Dog Soldiers and The Descent.

My favorite actress of all time is Katherine Hepburn, although I love Kate Winslet and Rachel Weisz.

My favorite actor of all time is Lawrence Olivier.

Favorite romance movie of all time is Paperback Hero staring Hugh Jackman. I really like Only You with Marissa Tomei

I never went to a prom or a homecoming.

My first date was about two days after my high school graduation. No joke.

Worst thunderstorm I’ve ever experienced was when I was twelve. It rained torrents for two hours. For an hour of that time the lightning was so bad that it was continuous and with no wait between flash and thunder.

My first Perrier water was on the first date I ever had.

Weirdest snowstorm I experienced happened July in the 70’s. No joke.


Hot For SWAT: With This Kiss

Monday, August 22nd, 2011

When I wrote Within His Embrace (Liquid Silver Books) a few years back, I added a short story at the back of it called With This Kiss. Here’s an excerpt from it to tantalize you. Enjoy!

On the fourth anniversary of one of the worst days of Pam Gilliard’s life, she wondered if today could be her lucky day.

Pam shifted in her booth seat and hoped the man would appear at the Gold Rush Grill again.

Not likely. That would be too weird by half.

Country music twanged over the speakers. The scent of fried food and alcohol touched her senses. Voices raised above the din, mingling and colluding.

Then the impossible happened.

He entered the grill again.

The big man striding into the restaurant owned all the hallmarks of a kick-ass-and-take-names dude. Tall, tough, and lethal. If all he’d been was a brute with an arrogant stride, she could have ignored him. No such luck with Lieutenant Ian Duffy, badge number 888, member of the El Torro County Sheriff’s Department and crack SWAT team member. This man served as a living, breathing reminder of tragedy, of heartbreak that had taken so long to heal. That is, if it ever would.

“Damn,” she said softly.

Pam’s friend Careena Tweedsdale, who sat across from her in the booth, cleared her throat. Careena pushed her square, fashionable glasses back onto the bridge of her nose. Her bright periwinkle blue eyes appeared owlish behind the glasses, a well-deserved studious expression mixed with a kind, amused smile. Careena’s thin, elegant hands, long-fingered and tipped with blood-red nails, tapped the side of her chardonnay glass.

She smiled with scarlet red lips that tempted men to venture beyond the librarian-like façade. “What’s wrong?”

“He’s here. Again.” Pam swallowed hard. Seeing him around Gold Rush, Colorado so often in a week made her head spin. While the town wasn’t small, it also wasn’t large. Each time she’d seen him, she’d almost walked up and said hello. Instead she’d chickened out.

“Coincidence.” Careena sipped her wine and winced as the sound system squealed and a pop tune by a one-hit wonder added background to the already loud restaurant.

Pam’s headache, an annoying throb in her temples, fired to life. “I don’t believe in coincidence. It’s just too weird he’s been in here night after night.”

“Any stranger than us coming in here night after night?”

“No. No, it isn’t.”

When Pam winced at the pain in her head, Careena frowned. “You okay?”

“Headache.” The sparkling water in front of her, mixed with the aspirin she’d just taken, should make her feel better shortly. She hoped.

“You look pale.”

Pam smiled. “Remember, I’m always pale.”

Careena’s eyes held wisdom and good humor. “True.” She sighed. “Sure you want to do this? I mean, what if he’s a real creep? One of those guys who uses his power and authority to push people around?”

What if? “Then I guess the thank you will go unappreciated, and he’ll tell me to go blow.” She shrugged and took a sip of water. “If he’s a creep I won’t feel so bad about taking four years to do this.”

She hoped the man she’d heard so much about wouldn’t be like that, but there was no guarantee, was there?

“I’ve got to do this.” Pam tucked her hair behind her ears. “I have to.”

Careena fiddled with the sleeve of her slightly worn brown cable sweater. The dark knit contrasted sharply with her creamy peach skin. “Are you sure? No one would blame you if you didn’t.”

Pam sighed again with a weariness that refused to abate. Her friend’s assertion didn’t sidetrack Pam’s uneasy feeling as she watched the law enforcement officer follow the hostess toward an empty table. “I’ve spent four years wasting my time.”

“It took that long to talk it out.”

Pam tucked hair behind both her ears. “It took that long to realize I was avoiding dealing with my issues.”

She glanced at the tall man again. No matter how much she wanted to ignore his extraordinary male sensuality, she couldn’t.

Careena smiled. “He’s hot.”


He didn’t wear a uniform tonight, yet she’d have known him anywhere. As he walked, power and confidence radiated from him.  His broad shoulders were encased in a thick ivory fisherman’s sweater and black jeans outlined strong legs. His thick black hair was military short. His jaw, handsomely shaped, and his aristocratic nose shaped up to one mouth-watering male. Almost savagely handsome, as a matter of fact, a pirate in civilized veneer.

Okay, maybe he had changed. Four years ago he’d been in his late twenties. At over thirty, he now had the gravity of a man who knew his place in the world.

No man this incredible could enter a room without women noticing him. Several women did ogle the over six feet of finely-honed cop. He stopped by one table with two pretty young women, and cracked a dazzling smile that transformed his hard-ass look to gentle and charming. Pam reacted to that smile, and didn’t want to like it. He chatted with the women for a second and moved onward.

With an approximate population of thirty thousand, Gold Rush, Colorado was small enough for people to know him and the El Torro County Sheriff’s department SWAT had a solid and exemplary reputation.

Pam understood that.

And she wanted to forgive the cop who’d killed her brother four years ago.

“Now’s the time.” Pam slid from the booth, stood, and looped her black purse over her shoulder. “Wish me luck.”

Careena smiled. “I’ll be here until I get the signal it’s okay to leave.”

Pam nodded, returned her friend’s smile, and headed toward the table where Lieutenant Duffy sat alone. Her breath started to shorten, every weakness she possessed threatening to overcome her. Come on, Pam. Now is the time. Do it. Do it. She turned a corner and targeted his booth, her breath short as her steps quickened. She dodged a waitress carrying a tray of drinks. As she approached his booth, he looked up, and even from this distance she couldn’t miss the dark intensity of his stare, or the sensual awareness that warmed her belly.

When their eyes met, he added that smile to the mix, and the heat inside her blossomed. Oh, no. No. Being attracted to him on top of all this…no, it was too twisted.

She stopped at the booth. “Hi.”


Free ebook! Love From The Ashes is free!

Thursday, August 18th, 2011

Hey everyone!

Hope you’re having a fantastic day. I have great news for you, the reader. Some of you may not have read my books before, or you may not have read Love From The Ashes before. Well, now you can. At no risk to you.

My 2001 EPPIE award winner historical romance Love From The Ashes is up at Smashwords for free.  Take advantage of this promotion while you can. You can find it at:

Military Hero: Sins & Secrets

Tuesday, August 16th, 2011

Military heroes are popular these days. I’ve written many of them myself. In Sins and Secrets I wrote about a former marine. Hope you enjoy this excerpt!


Geeky, cheeky, and not the least sexy…

Tara Crayton figures she knows everything about her cubicle buddy, Marcus Hyatt.  Not the type of man she’d want for a date, much less a long-term relationship.  Yet at night, a fearless lover tantalizes her dreams, and makes her realize how much she needs the love of a man.

Mad, bad, and dangerous to know…

Special Investigations Agency operative Marcus Hyatt knows Tara thinks he’s the dullest dude on the block, and he wants to keep it that way.  For if she knew the truth, her life could be in danger.  Yet at night, a daring lover touches his dreams, and makes him realize how he longs for true companionship.

When Tara receives a series of death threats, the only man she can turn to is Marcus, and the only way he can keep her safe is to never tell her the secrets he holds.


Shivers darted along her skin and she rubbed her arms.

She needed help. She could call the police. Then she remembered the vision of Marcus. When she had visualizations about people, they were never wrong. He might be a word processing clerk right now, but at one time he’d been a combat warrior of some kind. If he couldn’t protect her, no one could.

Impulse sent her racing down the hall to her bedroom. She grabbed her purse from where she’d dumped it by the bedside table. She fumbled through the pockets until she found the card with Marcus’s phone numbers on it, then grabbed her cell phone from her purse at the same time. She punched in his home number and realized her hands shook. Another deep breath didn’t seem to make a difference. Her entire insides quivered like gelatin.

Get control. Harness the fear.

Red digital numbers on her bedside clock said eleven o’clock. Marcus picked up the phone on the second ring, his voice clear, deep and strong. He didn’t sound like he’d been asleep.


“Marcus.” Even to her own ears, her voice sounded quivery, filled with rampant emotions so strong she couldn’t contain them. “This is Tara.”

“Hey.” He sounded almost happy, then his voice deepened with undeniable worry. “Everything all right?”

“No. Drake called me and he’s saying crazy things. I’m afraid he might be right outside my apartment.”

“Are all your doors and windows locked?” His voice took on an immediate hard edge.

She looked up at her large bedroom window, thankful for the heavy honeycomb shade. “Of course.”

“Stay right there. I’ll be there in a few minutes.”

Regret immediately overran some fear. “Maybe this isn’t a good idea. I’m sorry I called. I mean, I shouldn’t have imposed on you because Drake is playing games.”

“He isn’t playing games, Tara, and you know it.”

She did know it, deep inside where her instincts lived.

“Don’t hang up,” he said. “I’m going out to the car now.”

She heard him moving through his house and the quick jangling of keys. Just having him on the phone and hearing his husky voice gave her renewed calm. Her heartbeat eased and her breathing steadied. With that reassurance came the worry she’d overacted. Drake always did like to scare the crap out of her, and maybe that’s all he meant to do now.

Still, prickling awareness said her ex-husband could be waiting outside. Even though she’d told Marcus the doors and windows were locked, she scurried around the house and made certain every lock was secure.

She heard an engine starting and the sound of a car pulling away at a quick pace. Reality sank in. “Marcus?”

“I’m here. Are you all right?” He sounded anxious.

“I’m checking the doors and windows again. Everything’s locked. Maybe you shouldn’t come over. If Drake is out there, he could hurt you.”

“He can try.”

His words, spoken in a completely indomitable tone, said if Drake tried, he’d fail.

Wow. In the midst of the fear lingering around the edges, a tiny, illicit thrill stirred in her stomach. A primitive wave of heat surrounded her. Marcus was willing to risk injury for her.

She’d never known a man willing to put his life on the line for her. The reaction it set up burned in her mind and body like wildfire, momentarily erasing apprehension and replacing it with inappropriate sexual arousal.

As he drove to her house, he kept her spirits uplifted with some stupid jokes he’d heard within recent months. She giggled, then realized she’d let her guard down with him more than any man she’d known since Drake. Disturbed, she tried to rein back her enthusiasm a little. She couldn’t afford weakness.

“I’m driving up now,” Marcus said.


But he’d already hung up. Fear renewed, tightening her muscles so much her jaw ached. She heard tires crunching in the driveway and rushed to a window overlooking the front yard. She recognized his car. As he left his vehicle, she kept watch, afraid she’d see Drake rushing out of the darkness, ready to attack. Despite Marcus’s take-no-prisoners statement that Drake could try taking him out, part of her wondered if Marcus wasn’t a little too cocky. The world was populated with macho men who thought they could take on anything.

Marcus left his car and strode up the walk to the front door, his gaze vigilant and his mouth a firm line. He walked quickly toward her door, and in darkness obliterated somewhat by the porch light, she saw he wore a tank top and jeans.

When he rang the doorbell, she left her cell phone on the coffee table and headed for the small foyer. She rushed to snap on the light and the bulb went out with a pop. Damn.

Relief washed through her at thought of him being here. She opened the door immediately and stepped back for him to come inside. She quickly relocked the door. As she turned back to him, she brushed against his tall body and took in his reassuring, masculine scent. He clasped her arms gently and her hands landed on his chest.

“Are you all right?” he asked, concern blazing in his piercing eyes and a frown grooving lines between his eyebrows.

“Yes.” She clutched at his biceps, her vehemence transferring in her grip. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have asked you to come here.”

His gaze darted around the foyer and toward the living room, as if he searched for hidden enemies. “You already said that once.”

“It’s true.”

His frown looked nothing like a geeky office boy. No siree. Marcus Hyatt had transformed into a reassuring, testosterone-filled presence. “Well, get that idea right out of your head now. I’m glad you called me.”

“Did I wake you?”

He shook his head. “I’m a night owl.” His mouth softened the slightest bit. “You’re safe now.” His fingers slipped over her arms until he cupped her face with one hand. “You’re shaking.”

A shiver worked over her body as the heat and caress from his fingers tantalized her senses.

“I am,” she said breathlessly. “I don’t know why.”

“Damn it, that bastard has you scared out of your wits.” His voice went rough and angry.

To her horror, unexpected tears welled in her eyes and threatened to spill over. Mortified by her weakness, she sniffed and took a deep breath. “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to be—” She broke off abruptly, her voice quavering under the strain.

“It’s all right.” His voice, soft and rumbling, reassured her like nothing else.

He drew her close, tucking her head onto his shoulder, his fingers buried in her hair. His arm tightened around her back, and security and safety suddenly didn’t seem so far away anymore. She slipped her arms around his waist, allowing his embrace to comfort and release the trepidation one second at a time.

She registered several things at once. All of them made her breath catch. She wore nothing but a long fuchsia nightshirt that reached to mid-thigh, and a pair of skimpy matching pink bikini panties. She’d been meaning for the last two weeks to buy another robe. Her last robe had gone beyond the call of duty and ripped up a side seam. She’d tossed it in the trash.

Marcus’s big frame sheltered her with tensile strength. Tara’s heart stuttered, skipped and then rammed into overdrive. Her belly fluttered with intoxicating need rivaling any feeling she’d encountered around him before. Cradled in muscular arms and pressed against his hard chest, her emotions whipped from one extreme to the other.

Watch out, Tara. Just because he’s one hell of a nice guy, and he’s come to your rescue doesn’t mean he feels beyond ordinary compassion for a friend. Don’t make this into anything more emotional or more physical than it is.

She could explain away these feelings as unadulterated appreciation for his willingness to help. Even the kisses they’d shared earlier in the day didn’t mean anything extraordinary.

He eased her back and out of his arms. “Sit down and take it easy. We need to talk.”

Feeling shell-shocked by what happened tonight, she settled onto the couch. She curled her legs to the side.

“I’ll check the house,” he said gruffly and stalked away from her.

Check the house? Her discomfort with the situation peaked. She’d already gone all over the entire home. What more could he check? Tears of frustration and anger slid down her face. She quickly wiped them away.

A few moments later, he strode back into the room, that unconquerable gritty determination on his face. Her mouth popped open and she stared like the village idiot. Marcus might be forty years old, but he easily looked ten years younger.

A body-hugging navy blue tank top clung to his torso, lovingly embracing tight pecs and the ripple of a six-pack stomach. Chest hair peeked above the neckline and tantalized her. She didn’t understand a woman who couldn’t appreciate chest hair on a man.

His wide shoulders and long arms showed evidence of supreme physical strength. Jeans curved over his muscled, mile-long legs.

The man worked out big time, but his musculature said he could be mean in a fight rather than hampered by bulky power.

He wasn’t wearing his glasses, and the thickest eyelashes she’d ever seen on a man ringed his incredible eyes. Thick strands of wavy hair gleamed with healthy shine and fell about his shoulders. Now his nose looked regal rather then thin, and the long line of his jaw softened a little by the hair tumbling around his face.

Everything Tara and the other women in the office once thought about Marcus Hyatt was blown away in one stunning revelation. He possessed that dangerous, take-me-or-leave-me edge few men could pull off without seeming ridiculous. Simply put, he oozed sex and sins and secrets. Earlier in the day at the mall, he’d looked yummy.

Tonight he made her mouth water, her heart pound, and everything feminine inside her take notice.

Oh, God. I am in trouble now.

Snippet Saturday: Within Her Embrace

Saturday, August 13th, 2011

Today’s my first Snippet Saturday! Please make sure to read all the way to the bottom and enjoy links to other author’s blogs for their snippets!

Within His Embrace (Heart of Justice Series)

“Shots fired. One civilian down. Black Firebird leaving the scene,” a dispatcher for El Torro County Sheriff’s Department relayed over the squad car radio.

Sergeant Craig MacGilvary drove through Gold Rush, Colorado, taking note of the address and license number.

Even though city police had jurisdiction, Craig could help. If the shooter headed straight for him into the county, he could cut him off.

His blood pumped as he pulled a u-turn and neared the area, lights flashing and siren blaring. More radio chatter filled the air, city police responding to the incident.

“Suspect is former boyfriend to The Bridal Boutique owner Delilah Willow,” the dispatcher said and Craig’s veins froze at the mention of the shop name. “Suspect just shot her new boyfriend and is heading toward the owner’s shop to destroy her property.”

Jesus. What the hell is it with this town and jealous boyfriends?

Then his heart froze. Leigh. She might still be at the shop.

Damn it!

He swallowed hard, his heart pounding through his ears.  If that fucker in the firebird goes anywhere near Leigh—if that dirtball hurts one hair on her beautiful, golden head—I’ll kill the bastard.

Craig pressed the gas pedal to the floor.


Leigh Strong closed the door on The Bridal Boutique for the last time. Since the shop owner, Delilah Willow, had decided a month ago she couldn’t make a go of the shop, Leigh had plenty of time to select a new future.

She’d procrastinated big time.

What am I going to do?

Hell, I don’t know. Now I’ll have a crap load of time to think.

She flicked open the top two buttons on her fire engine red silk blouse and fussed with her blazer lapels. She wished she’d gone without panty hose because this pair itched, and the black business suit skirt felt too confining as it cupped her butt in stretchy material.

Guaranteed to stretch with you in comfort.

The catalog advertisement had promised.

Yeah. Right. I feel like a damn sausage.

“No more suits for a while.” She sighed. “Yeah, that’s what I need. Freedom.”

She could blame her baking-in-the-oven-like-a-piece-of-meat feeling on the weather. May in Colorado had turned unusually warm but clouds gathered on the horizon with the promise of rain.  Lightning jumped across the sky in the far distant horizon.

She glared at the glass door, the closed sign, and the finality. She turned away with a sardonic smile and a determination to become a Wedding Planner again soon.

She’d parked too far away on the street, damn it. The quiet on this small corner of the business district felt strangely disquieting, as if Halloween was just around the corner rather than signs of Spring. Bah Humbug anyway.

Too early for Christmas discontent and way too late to complain about Valentine’s Day.

Get over it.

She smiled, because she’d heard more than once that pretending you felt good could lead to actual sensations of happiness. Her thoughts scattered to her friend Celeste’s wedding less than a month away.  The big event would be perfect or else. She wouldn’t let her best friend down. She slung her handbag over her shoulder and headed down the sidewalk.

Envy spiked through Leigh. Celeste’s fiancé, Mick MacGilvary, was a gorgeous sheriff’s deputy and a SWAT officer. Anyone could see that Mick loved Celeste down to his core. What would it feel like to know a man cherished you like that? She couldn’t imagine.

Not that Leigh wanted to marry. At least not anytime soon. She would appreciate a hot man to warm her bed at night, to share good times and laughs. More than one acquaintance paraded eligible bachelors in front of her, but not one of the guys turned her on mentally or physically. As she’d once heard an old woman say, they were all milquetoast.

Mick had two hot brothers also on the sheriff’s department and in the SWAT team, but neither one would do for Leigh. Trey had married Englishwoman Olivia Scott last year. And Craig…well, Craig was so not the kind of guy she needed.



He probably didn’t have a sexual bone in his body.

Besides, there was a mutual dislike between them.

Yeah, that pretty much put a damper on any chance of a hook up with a hot SWAT cop.

She heard the roar of a muscle car somewhere down the street and ignored it. The engine revved like a drag racing machine, and then she heard a strange pop so loud she jumped, startled.

A sharp sting slashed across her upper right shoulder, and she clapped a hand over the area, shocked. What the—

She swung toward the road, searching.

A black Firebird screeched to a halt along the sidewalk.

A city police car came to a screaming stop right behind it.

The Firebird driver aimed out the window at the cruiser behind him and fired. One of the shop windows shattered. Screams split the air as people across the street scrambled for cover.

She dove into an alley and plastered her back against the wall. Her heart banged frantically in her chest, sweat breaking out as fear jolted like lightening through her. What the hell–?

Pain stung her arm, and she saw red spreading over the upper arm of her blouse. Oh, God. Am I shot? Instinctively she clamped her hand over the wound again.

The Firebird engine roared and the muscle car’s tires squealed as the driver tore away from the sidewalk.

The city police car followed, tires burning rubber. Stunned into immobility, she stood unmoving against the wall. Sirens blared as another law enforcement car whizzed by. Breathing hard, she dared a peak around the corner. Patrons from other stores spilled out of the doors, curiosity getting the better of them.

A sheriff’s department car zoomed to the sidewalk, and the deputy jumped out with pistol drawn as he looked around.

Craig MacGilvary.

Relief flooded her.

He saw her a second later and ran in her direction.  “Leigh?”

She edged out of the alley, but not far, half expecting more shots to come from nowhere.

Craig holstered his weapon as he reached her. “Are you all right?”

“A MacGilvary to the rescue,” she said, her voice raspy. “What the hell is going on here?”

His gaze caught on her shoulder, and his normally glacial green eyes turned incinerator hot, blazing with concern.  “You’re hurt. Christ.” His deep voice went husky. Before she could answer, he reached for her arm and tore the sleeve practically off her arm.  His mouth tightened.  “Damn it.”

Unexpected dizziness made her unsteady on her feet, her breath coming hard. “Oh.”

“Come on, there’s a first aid kit in my car.”

He clasped her forearm gently and led her toward his cruiser, all the while using his shoulder radio to report his status and the need for an ambulance.

“I don’t need an ambulance.” She managed a caustic smile, still unable to believe what had happened.  “What do they say in the movies? It’s a flesh wound. It doesn’t even hurt much.”

“You’ve been shot.  You need medical attention.”

She didn’t know what to say, because the concept that some jerk had shot at her didn’t penetrate.  “I just felt this little sting and then this jackass in a Firebird tears by.”

As Craig tended to her wound, she noticed the gathering crowd. She peppered Craig with questions. “What is going on? Why did that jackass shoot at me? Have I made enemies I don’t know about?”

He explained about Delilah’s old boyfriend having a grudge and shooting her new boyfriend near Delilah’s house.  “That’s all I know.”

“Oh, God. I should call her. She’s all right isn’t she?”

“Don’t know. Hold still while I finish this and then you can call her.”

Backup came in the form of a city police cruiser with two cops. Craig relayed what happened at the scene while the city officers asked her questions and took her report.

“How did you happen to be so close?” she asked Craig when the city police started taping off the area.

Craig stared at her with his trademark intense look. A little over six feet tall, he commanded respect. His military short golden blond hair receded a bit at the hairline. With a nicely cut nose, firm jaw line, and looks too rough-hewn to qualify as handsome, Craig possessed a roughness that screamed loudly, don’t mess with me. His wide shoulders, muscled arms, and trim waist made the short-sleeved brown uniform look as if it was tailor made for him.

He shrugged, hands on hips and firm cop face in place. “I was headed through town and heard the call.”  For a split second his expression softened, his eyes meeting hers with a clear, unguarded sincerity. For a fleeting moment his professional exterior disappeared and she thought she saw real panic on his face. “When I thought you might be in danger I—”  He cleared his throat and his composure returned.  “I happened to be nearby.”


Other Snippet Saturday participants:
Mari Carr
McKenna Jeffries
Taige Crenshaw
Lacey Savage
Sasha White
Jody Wallace
Leah Braemel
Lauren Dane
Beth-Ann Mason
Shiloh Walker
Eliza Gayle
Alison Kent

Authors Unplugged With Marie D. Jones

Thursday, August 11th, 2011

Hey all, if you get a chance pop on over to my 6pm Eastern Time show at Authors Unplugged today on My guest will be author Marie D. Jones. You can find me at

Book Release News

Wednesday, August 10th, 2011

Hey there all. Hope your hump day is trouble free and terrific.

I think I mentioned some time back that I’m release two previously published books. Here’s the plan. FOREVERMORE (paranormal romantic suspense) will be out this October at Amazon and Smashwords in time for your Halloween reading pleasure. Forevermore is inspired by a real event.

All I Want For Christmas will probably be out sometime in late November at Amazon and Smashwords. Both will have super dooper new covers that are gorgeous. Because these books have been published before, I plan to offer them at a low price even though they are definitely full sized novels. More on these books in my next newsletter.



Snippet Saturday Coming Soon!

Saturday, August 6th, 2011

Hey everyone,

Hope you all are having a great weekend. Wanted to let you know I’ll soon be participating in something called Snippet Saturday. On a Snippet Saturday I’ll have an excerpt up on my blog that relates to a particular “theme” that me and participating authors will do that day. And at the end of my snippet I’ll have the URLS to other authors who are also participating. That way you’ll get a chance to read excerpts from other authors’ work, too.  Next Saturday is the first time I’m participating. Other authors participating include Shiloh Walker, T.J. Michaels, Delilah Devlin, Lauren Dane and many others.

I’ll remind you when the day comes up!

What do you miss?

Friday, August 5th, 2011

Hey there everyone. It’s been busy this week. I’m working on revisions and a galley. I’ve managed to accumulate a lot to do.

Random thoughts for the day. Wednesday night I watched Ghost Hunters International and they were at Castle Rising in Norfolk, England. It made me homesick for England. My hubby and I lived in England three years so we get pangs once in a while. I miss fall in England the most. The colors there can be so beautiful. But I love fall here, too. I miss castles! There aren’t any REAL castles here.

So are there things in your past that you miss? Tell me all about them, and we’ll go down memory road together.