Saturday, December 26, 2015

New Website on Its Way

In the next few weeks I will have a new website. Stay tuned. There may be prizes for those who sign up to my email list. 

Monday, December 7, 2015

Fuzzy Logic

Excerpt from Fuzzy Logic by Maren Anderson:

Cody started the truck, and the truck lurched forward and hit a pothole so the baby alpaca’s head bounced on the seat beside me. “Oh, baby,” I cried and cradled the little neck in my arms. I held the tiny oxygen mask to his face and stroked his perfect little ears. I concentrated so fully on the cria that I didn’t notice Cody’s dark eyes glaring at the road.

Oregon State University had one of the few alpaca and llama veterinary programs in the country, and we were to be only a half-hour drive away. I didn’t feel so lucky when I finally realized that Cody wasn’t driving fast only because he was concerned about the sick cria breathing wetly in my lap.

He hadn’t said anything since we’d left the barn. I replayed the events leading up to me sitting in the hostile air of the truck.

My heart sank when I remembered the image of Evan in my frilly pink robe holding coffee in my driveway.

“Cody?” I said when I couldn’t stand the silence any longer. “Are you mad?”

He glanced at me, his eyes flashing. “Why would I be mad?” he growled.

“He just kind of showed up last night,” I said.

“Don’t,” he said. “I don’t want to know.”

“I just want to tell you that I’ve been thinking about you, us—”

“And he just showed up and spent the night last night. I hear you.” Cody swung around a corner so forcefully that I gathered the cria more tightly into my arms to keep it from sliding.

“Please, give me another chance,” I said. “I’m not ready to let you go.”

“But you’re not ready to let him go, either,” Cody said. Pain was sharp in his voice.

“Please,” I said. “Give me whatever time limit you want. I’ll follow it. But let me figure this out in my own way until then.” I was afraid to touch him, so I clutched the baby animal to my chest and hoped.

He looked at me hard again, but his eyes softened before he looked back at the road. He made a turn into a parking lot and turned off the key. He turned to me and looked into my eyes. “A week,” he said. “One torturous week, and I’m done.”

I nodded, afraid breathing would break this reprieve.


She thinks moving to a ranch will lead to the simple life she craves, but the countryside has other ideas…

After divorcing her unfaithful husband, Meg Taylor buys an alpaca ranch to finally do something on her own. Almost as soon as she arrives, she meets not one, but two, handsome—and baffling—men. She thinks choosing between the shy veterinarian and her charming securities co-worker is her biggest problem, until life and death on the ranch make her re-evaluate more than her love life. At least her new life is nothing like her old one.


Maren Anderson is a writer, teacher, and alpaca rancher who lives in rural Oregon. She writes while her children are at school and spends the rest of her time scooping alpaca poop, knitting, playing with her family, reading, and watching cartoons and nature programs on television. She teaches literature and composition at a local college and novel writing to eager, budding writers. If you want to know more about Anderson’s writing, novel classes, or alpacas, contact her via Facebook, onTwitter (@marenster), or at

Friday, December 4, 2015

The Storytelling Chair

Stories at bedtime were a big part of life during the thirteen years Jonathan and I helped raise our grandchildren. We lived on Vashon Island in Washington State most of that time.

Our five-acre place at Center Island had – among many other kid-friendly features – a storytelling chair in a notch at a fence corner between two trees. Those trees began at the bottom more than far enough apart to fit a chair or the wider loveseat that preceded the chair but disintegrated. A casualty of the Pacific Northwest’s persistent dampness.

I would sit on the seat with a grandchild beside me or on the ground in front of me and I would read. One day my grandson – ever inquisitive and curious – asked me something like “What’s the story with the trees Grandma.” As he stared at the place where the trees grew almost together over my head I told him my theory.

“These trees were born very close to one another under the ground and they fell in love there. When they grew above the ground and saw each other’s beauty they fell in love even more deeply. So much so they couldn’t stand being apart and grew toward each other instead. Until they were side-by-side and kept on growing together to the sky.”

I’m not sure whether or not my grandson believed my story. Or the similar one I told about why the quince bush next to the driveway meandered through the branches of a lilac bush with unusually dark purple blossoms. He always appreciated a good story and seemed to accept what I said as such. A tale with a mood to it and a heart and – because it was me – a bit of romance too.

Stories at bedtime were told indoors of course and I read them most of the time rather than fabricating. I had a storytelling chair there too. It was bright red and sat between the dormers of the children’s upstairs loft. The sides of the ceiling leaned toward each other much like the trees in the fence corner outside.

On Christmas Eve I had a stack of books to read in the same order each year. I’d read in a droning voice designed to put two excited children to sleep. They’d be almost there when I reached the last on the pile and began.

“Twas the night before Christmas and all through the house…”

Alice Orr –

A Vacancy at the Inn – coming soon – is the first Christmas Novella of my Riverton Road Romantic Suspense Series featuring the Kalli family – and now the Miller family too – in stories of Romance and Danger. A Wrong Way Home is Book 1 of the series. A Year of Summer Shadows is Book 2. A Villain for Vanessa will be Book 3.

All of my titles are available at

Riverton Road Romantic Suspense Series Christmas Novella
Luke & Bethany’s Story by Alice Orr

On a cold December day Bethany Miller and her son Michael arrive in Riverton.

She grew up on Riverton Hill in remote upstate New York where her complicated family still lives. She moved away to escape all of that and more. Now she’s back because of complications in her present life with what is best for her son. She hopes the Miller family will be a Christmas blessing for Michael. She’s less hopeful about what this homecoming will be for her.

The last thing Bethany wants is further complication. That means the last person she needs to see is Luke Kalli staring down at her from the roof of Miller’s Inn. They shared a glorious connection before she fled from here. The power of that encounter and the deep feelings she experienced came at a tumultuous moment in her life. They were yet another strong reason to leave Riverton Hill on Riverton Road and never return – until today. She has no idea this place will put her son in peril.

Alice Orr – Bio

"Alice Orr is a brilliant writer who has a Number One best seller hidden in her pocket. I look forward to more of her work," says one Amazon reviewer. I say “Thanks!” I love to write. Especially romantic suspense novels and blog posts. I’ve been a workshop leader, book editor and literary agent. Now I live my dream of writing full-time. I’ve published thirteen novels and four novellas – both traditionally and independently – plus a memoir so far. I wrote my nonfiction book, No More Rejections, as a gift to the writers' community I cherish. A revised edition is now in progress. Amazon says, "This book has it all." About my romantic suspense, Amazon says, "Alice Orr turns up the heat." Most of all, I like to hear from readers. Visit my website at I have two grown children and two perfect grandchildren and I live with my husband Jonathan in New York City.

Monday, November 30, 2015

Christmas Eve

I love to read books about two lonely people unexpectedly forced to spend time together. She gets lost. Maybe he offers her a ride to the nearest phone, then takes the wrong road and his car breaks down. Does a sudden storm comes up? A mudslide? When the river floods and cuts them off from everyone else, they seek shelter in a summer cabin. Does she winds up in his arms?

The heroine of Christmas Eve does. A little-known ski area on Mount Charleston, right outside Las Vegas, Nevada is the setting for my novel. Eve Adore backs her car into a ditch in a blinding snowstorm. A handsome stranger takes her in. His modern cabin is cozy and she soon forgets the cold wind and the snow piling up in deep drifts outside. The two of them might as well be the only people left on earth. No one will know how they spend their time. A romantic dinner? Dancing by firelight? No one need ever know she climbed in bed with Nick and heated up his cold sheets.

Here's an excerpt from Christmas Eve:

Finally. Nick St. Clair took one last look around. Everything seemed in order. Don't let your irritation at your hired date's tardiness show. She might have a reasonable excuse for being late.

Straightening the lapels of his hip-length robe, he crossed to the door. Beneath the robe, black silk pajama pants provided minimal warmth but kept him decent.

"I'm sorry to disturb you," the statuesque woman on his porch said with a bright smile, "but I've done something really stupid and wondered if you—"

"Don't just stand there." Nick opened the door wider, anxious to see what his credit card had purchased this time. "Come in."

"Thanks." After a slight hesitation, the woman stepped gracefully inside. Ice crystals clung to the fine wool scarf wrapped loosely around her neck, and to her stylish boots. She was all bundled up in a long coat, but Nick's mind's eye had no difficulty sketching what he hoped was hidden underneath.

The lady wore far too many clothes.

"I'm afraid my boots are wet." She glanced first at him. His welcoming smile seemed to stun her. She stared at her boots. "Where would you like me to stand?"

"By the fire." Nick indicated the hearth. "You look frozen." Although in need of a woman, he had no desire to bed an icicle. He wasn't that desperate. Yet.

She crossed the room at a slow pace, her fluid movements an aphrodisiac to him, although each tentative step left behind a patch of melting ice. Sex-deprived man that he was, his living room suddenly felt too warm. Things were looking up.

"I've been busy on the computer," he said, surprised by the sudden gruffness of his usually smooth voice. He joined her before the fire. "I hadn't noticed it had begun to snow."

A soft-looking, hooded leather coat covered her to her ankles. What lay beneath all those layers?

To his surprise, the unknown whetted his appetite. "Here, let me help you out of that coat."


No? Her response drew Nick up short.


Flame Arden speaks like a well-bred Southern lady. Nothing could be further from the truth. She claims to write sex scenes with ‘squirm factor’. You be the judge as she opens the boudoir door to one-man, one-woman relationships and gives you a glimpse inside. A happy and long lasting marriage has prepared her to write sizzling love scenes, and she doesn’t disappoint.

Christmas Eve Blurb

In a blinding snowstorm on Christmas Eve, the jaded owner of a posh Las Vegas casino mistakes the stranded real estate agent at his door for the classy call girl he's expecting to heat up his holiday.

Passions ignite. Eve has learned men believe bedding her the most direct route to her wealth. Nick's female companions want the keys to his Ferrari and to his safe deposit box, never to his heart, so he distrusts the entire lot and expects to simply walk away unscathed when his brief time with Eve ends.

Neither expects to give marriage a try, but hearts have a way of going where cautious souls refuse, and after screwing their head off for six days and night Nick and Eve discover without love their former lives were little more than empty shells.

Flame Arden Links
Evernight Publishing

Friday, November 20, 2015


In my latest romance, Triptych, my heroine Miranda wrestles with the question of true love. She also wrestles with recalcitrant sisters, mysterious machines and art thieves.

What is true love? Can unrequited love be true love? Must true love be reciprocal? Can true love be bad for you? Can unrequited love be good for you? If loving someone makes you sad all the time, is it still love? If someone loves you and you don’t love them as much, is it still true love? Does true love have to last forever? Can you find true love more than once? What exactly does “true” mean? Honest? Everlasting? Exclusive?

In my new romantic suspense, Triptych, Miranda Cabot finds out.

Triptych, by M. S. Spencer
Ebook 67,300 words; Print 213 pp.
Romantic suspense/Adventure
M/F, 2 flames

Take lost masterpieces, brilliant inventors, and stolen prototypes. Add the Three Sisters, Indian spirits who guard the Potomac River. Stir in three sisters and their lovers. Result? Jealousy, sex, genius, larceny and love. Who will end up with whom, and will the Three Sisters take another life as the legend demands?

Buy Links:

Triptych is available in both eBook and Print-on-Demand.

Barnes and Noble

Excerpt (R): The Witness
Triptych, by M. S. Spencer
Excerpt (G) : Captured

Miranda waited for the footsteps to die away and for her heart to stop vibrating like a Chinese gong. She couldn’t believe her luck. In a stroke of providential stupidity, Pongo had tied her hands in front of her. Considering his scintillating conversation, I should have expected no less. She bent from the waist until she could reach the rubber band with her lips and pull it off, reflecting that those endless crunches were useful for more than energetic sex. She untied the rope around her ankles and rubbed the raw skin while she looked around. They were in a small room about four feet square. Mops and pails were hung on the wall, and sponges and bottles lined the shelves.

Luc hadn’t moved. Please let him not be dead. A glimmer of light filtered in from the hall and Miranda shunted toward him. She managed to untie the rope on his feet, but couldn’t tear the duct tape wrapped tightly around his wrists. Still he didn’t move.

She brushed her lips over his. He stirred at last and opened his eyes—and just as quickly shut them again. “Ooph.”

“Oh, Luc, you’re alive!” She kissed him again. “Are you okay? What hurts?”

He smiled, but kept his eyes closed. “Besides everything else? I have a splitting headache. Where are we?”

“In a closet. In Crandall’s house. Luc, I think he’s insane.”

He chuckled. “Yeah I got that feeling too. One doesn’t cross Mr. Adolphus T. Crandall the Fourth.”

“What do we do now?”

“Give me a minute, will you, mon désir? I am not at my best just now.”

Miranda bit off the tart reply, telling herself they weren’t going anywhere anyway. She sat as patiently as possible, listening to his labored breathing and for any outside sounds.

“[Okay,] can you stand?”

“I think so.”

Holding each other tightly and trying not to knock anything over, they hoisted themselves to their feet. Luc turned the knob. Miranda thanked the makers of closet doors everywhere for not bothering with inside locks. He stuck his head out. “I don’t see anyone.”

The door to the outside stood open. Luc grabbed Miranda’s hand and tiptoed toward it. They saw sunlight glinting on a white van parked in a cobblestone courtyard. Birds twittered in the pines and a train whistle blew in the distance. Miranda felt like Dorothy as she ran out of the woods toward the Emerald City. That is, until something smashed into her skull. Before she blacked out, she heard a nasty, scratchy voice, saying, “Going somewhere, my pretty?”

About the Author

Although she has lived or traveled in every continent except Antarctica and Australia (bucket list), M. S. Spencer has spent the last thirty years mostly in Washington, D.C. as a librarian, Congressional staff assistant, speechwriter, editor, birdwatcher, kayaker, policy wonk, non-profit director and parent. She has two fabulous grown children, one fabulous grandchild, and currently divides her time between the Gulf coast of Florida and a tiny village in Maine.

Linked in

I Heart Book Publishing
Romance Books 4 Us
Amazon Author Page

Monday, November 9, 2015

Kris Bock’s Southwest Inspiration

I live in New Mexico, and the Southwest inspires my work, as I bring suspense with a dose of romance to the land I love. Here are some of my favorite spots - heavy on the adventure.

Socorro: For most people, this town in the middle of the state is mainly a rest stop between Albuquerque and El Paso, except in October/November when huge flocks of cranes and snow geese fly in to the Bosque del Apache National Wildlife Refuge: But as a local, I know the special sites nearby. Hikes can take you out in the desert or up to the mountains, visiting native petroglyphs or hunting for fossils. Hundreds of rock climbing routes provide adventures for anyone, beginners to experts. Plus, you have a good chance of seeing unusual wildlife, from roadrunners to foxes to great horned owls.

In my treasure hunting adventure, The Mad Monk’s Treasure, the heroine and her best friend hunt for the lost Victorio Peak treasure, a real Southwest legend about a heretic Spanish priest’s gold mine, made richer by the spoils of bandits and an Apache raider. I drew on personal experiences hiking in the desert for Erin and Camie’s adventures – though fortunately I’ve never stumbled on a rattlesnake nest or gotten caught in a flash flood!

Jemez Springs: This small town in the mountains of northwestern New Mexico is known for its hot springs. You can also visit the ruins of an old Spanish church; Soda Dam, a cool rock formation formed from the mineralized water flowing in the river; and Battleship Rock, so named because it resembles the prow of a battleship. (Pictures on my Pinterest page:

I’ve attended many writing retreats at a camp north of the town, and those experiences inspired Counterfeits. Of course, in the book, the site isn’t quite so relaxing. When Jenny inherits a children’s art camp, she discovers that her grandmother’s death might not have been an accident after all. The men who killed her grandmother are searching for stolen paintings, and they think Jenny and her old friend Rob, the camp cook, are involved. Doing research at a real camp tucked away in the woods, and hiking above Battleship Rock for a scene where Jenny gets lost, helped the setting feel realistic.

Hovenweep National Monument: This one is not actually in New Mexico, but it’s close. Located on the southern border between Colorado and Utah, these ruins once housed 2500 people between A.D. 1200 and 1300. It’s one of many sites left behind by the ancestral Puebloans, also known as the Anasazi. It’s a small site, but that’s part of its charm, as you can hike and camp without crowds.

In my romantic suspense Whispers in the Dark, my heroine is an archaeology Masters student working at the fictional “Lost Valley” monument, which is closely based on Hovenweep. The lonely location allows for an almost Gothic atmosphere – mysterious lights in the canyon, spooky moaning sounds, and plenty of people hiding secrets.

Lincoln County: What We Found is loosely based the mountain resort town of Ruidoso. The forested town at nearly 7000 feet elevation is not what most people probably imagine when they think of New Mexico. Yet it seemed like the perfect place for the story of Audra, a young woman who stumbles on a dead body in the woods. More than one person isn’t happy about her bringing the murder to light, and in a small town, it’s hard to avoid people who wish you ill.

What We Found was inspired by the true experience of finding a body, as I described in this blog post: I also spent time with a man who raises falcons and hawks (photos on my Pinterest page:, and that comes into play in the story. It’s real-life adventures like these, both good and bad, that make New Mexico a great place for a writer!

Kris Bock writes novels of suspense and romance involving outdoor adventures and Southwestern landscapes. In Counterfeits, stolen Rembrandt paintings bring danger to a small New Mexico town. Whispers in the Dark features archaeology and intrigue among ancient Southwest ruins. What We Found is a mystery with strong romantic elements about a young woman who finds a murder victim in the woods. The Mad Monk’s Treasure follows the hunt for a long-lost treasure in the New Mexico desert. In The Dead Man’s Treasure, estranged relatives compete to reach a buried treasure by following a series of complex clues. Read excerpts at or visit her Amazon page. Read excerpts at, visit her Amazon page:, or sign up for the Kris Bock newsletter:

Visit the Southwest Armchair Traveler blog for weekly post on Southwestern travel, culture, recipes, books and more:

Friday, November 6, 2015

Renaissance Faire

by Jane Stain

I set my time travel romance books at the renaissance faire because I’m a faire person, through and through.

My dad took me to my first faire when I was ten, and I was hooked! I loved playing pretend with ten thousand adults who all wore costumes. Like a giant Halloween party. The joust with the horses all in costume. The jugglers, fire eaters, and sword swallowers. Queen Elizabeth in her big poofy purple gown with her face powdered in white and a huge crown on her head, waving from the chair that twenty men carried her around in.

My love of the faire grew over the years.

In my teens, I loved pretending I was the heroine in one of the fantasy novels I loved to read and running around with friends pretending to be the Three Musketeers. All my geek and nerd friends were into the faire. It was something we bonded over and enjoyed together. All of our birthday parties were at faire or at restaurants that reminded us of the faire or themed with the faire at home or at places like Medieval Times.

In my twenties, I worked at the faire as an actor and spent the night there. That’s when I drank in the secret parties and night shows that Emily and Vange discover in my first book. I also learned there about the modern pagans / druids who provide the paranormal / magical / time travel aspect in my books.

Now in my fifties, I’m on Facebook with all my faire friends from thirty years ago.

It’s incredible how many celebrities we can name that participated in the faires with us! Martin Sheen, Emilio Estevez, Sean Penn, Rob Lowe, Bob Dylan, Cher, Wil Wheaton…

Yeah, we complain that the renfaire of today has lost its focus on historical re-enactment and lets everyone be pirates or fairies. But that’s because someone needs to provide the background for all the fairies and pirates!

Check out our Facebook photo archive projects for Phyllis Patterson’s original Renaissance Pleasure Faires in Northern and Southern California and see for yourself how authentic we looked back in the 1970s and 1980s at Paramount Ranch and Black Point Forest.

Renaissance Faire by Jane Stain

When kilted highlander Dall invites Emily up on stage at the renaissance faire for some Scottish dancing, the butterflies in her stomach are not from stage fright. She's in graduate school to be a drama teacher.

But Dall doesn't have a cell phone. He doesn't seem to know what one is. And no one will let Emily ask him about that. It's like the whole faire is guarding some big secret that has to do with him never breaking character.

Sunday, October 11, 2015

What She Knows

1. When did you know you wanted to be a writer?

I always writers are born, not made, and at the very ripe age of 7, I knew I was going to be a writer. I had just received a picture based on my current movie obsession, Dick Tracy. It was the first picture book I read all on my own. That was the beginning of the end for me.

2. How long have you been writing?

I’ve been professional writing for thirteen years, but as writing is in my nature, it’s more like forever.

3. How did you pick the genre you write in?

I read voraciously as a child, and only when I began to understand how much books costs did I realize the predicament I put my parents in. I grew up in the sticks without a handy public library, so my dad’s solution was to buy boxes of books at auctions for $1. The boxes were always filled with romance novels, historical and contemporary. I fell in love with the books that I had available to me, and that was what determined what genres I’d write in.

4. Do you plot or do you write by the seat of your pants?

I’m a huge plotter! The first present my husband ever gave me was a whiteboard for plotting. Talk about romance!

5. What was the best writing advice someone gave you?

Keep writing. While you have one manuscript out on submission, get started on the next one. One may be rejected, but then you can always say, well, I have two more.

6. What authors do you admire?

I admire Diana Gabaldon for her tenacity at sticking with such a series and keeping it straight! I accidentally wrote a 5 book series, and I had definitely lost track of some things by the end of it.

7. What’s your favorite thing about your book?

There’s a lot of me in this book, and I don’t often get a chance to write about things I’ve encountered personally. I hope some of the aspects of the heroine’s character will help other women in similar situations.

8. What would you like to learn to do that you haven’t?

Play the drums! My grandfather was a drummer in a swing band in the ‘40s, and I was given his drumsticks. It’s only a matter of time…

9. What is your favorite writing reference book and why?

Save the Cat. I tend to get sucked into analyzing movies, and they are a great learning tool for understanding aspects of writing. Cannot recommend Blake Snyder’s beat sheet enough.

10. Where do you write?

I write on my couch covered in Basset hounds. I’m not kidding. They like to think they’re helping.


His latest problem is her newest assignment.

Shannon Wynter has it all figured it. Abandoned by her mother and left to care for her agoraphobic father, Shannon focuses on building her career as a journalist to the detriment of all else including her love life.

Ian Darke has his own problems. Battling past failures, Ian sets his eyes on launching a new factory for his father’s defense firm. But it’s the very father he failed that will do anything to sabotage Ian’s progress.

And when Shannon follows an anonymous tip that leads her to Ian’s factory door, the last thing she expects to discover is what she already knows.

Purchase links:
Barnes & Noble:
Google Play:
All Romance eBooks:

About the Author:

In the second grade, Jessie began a story about a duck and a lost ring. Two harrowing pages of wide ruled notebook paper later, the ring was found. And Jessie has been writing ever since.

Armed with the firm belief that women in the Regency era could be truly awesome heroines, Jessie began telling their stories in her Spy Series, a thrilling ride in historical espionage that showcases human faults and triumphs and most importantly, love.

Jessie makes her home in the great state of New Hampshire where she lives with her husband and two very opinionated Basset Hounds. For more, visit her website at

Social Media Links:

Saturday, October 10, 2015

Love that Villain

By Melodie Campbell

A very strange thing happened while writing my second book in the Rowena series… I appear to have fallen for my villain.

Yes, Thane is the hero, and Rowena is smitten with him, as she should be. But her literary creator has become more and more enamoured with bad boy Cedric – the villain of the piece. Cedric is determined to have Rowena to himself, and he will stop at nothing to get her, including selling his soul to Lucifer. Cedric messes with the black arts.

Cedric can mess with me anytime.

How the heck did this happen? I set out to write a fun and sexy adventure, with good guys and bad guys and spunky heroines. Love that Rowena. She’s everything I would like to be. Thane is a terrific match for her; strong, smart, loyal, handsome, and the King to boot. Arch enemy of Cedric of course.

And what about Cedric? He’s not as good looking as Thane. He probably isn’t as smart. His morals are questionable – maybe nonexistent. But he is cunning. He is dynamic. He is never, ever boring.

Cedric is the typical bad boy.

What it is about men who don’t fit the typical hero mode, but ‘bother’ us, somehow? That’s how Rowena puts it. “I didn’t like his looks – they bothered me.” Cedric has long red-gold hair. His eyes are green, and they have an eerie glow when he uses magic. He’s tall, broad and thoroughly masculine, with bands of muscles on his arms. And he draws her like a moth to fire…

Exciting, that’s the word. The bad boys in our past made us feel like we were alive. Living on the edge has its attractions…

So Thane may be the ideal man for Rowena, and for many woman. But Cedric will always be there, in the back of her mind, tempting…promising something that will take her beyond the ordinary, something delicious, enticing…

Damn, that’s attractive. I can’t kill him off.

“Is that a broadsword on your belt, or are you just glad to see me?”

When Rowena falls through her classroom wall into a medieval world, she doesn’t count on being kidnapped – not once, but twice, dammit – and the stakes get higher as the men get hotter. Unwanted husbands keep piling up; not only that, she has eighteen-year-old Kendra to look out for, and a war to prevent. Good thing she can go back through the wall when she needs to…or can she?

“Hot and Hilarious!” Midwest Book Review
“Outlander meets Sex and the City” Vine Review


The Toronto Sun called her Canada’s “Queen of Comedy.” Library Journal compared her to Janet Evanovich. Melodie Campbell has over 40 short story publications, 9 novels and 10 awards. Rowena Through the Wall, included in this collection, was an Amazon Top 100 Bestseller, putting her ahead of both Nora Roberts and Diana Gabaldon for a magical time.

Sunday, September 20, 2015

Writers Should Get Paid

This is a glorious fisk.

Kind of like a non-writer friend of mine standing in my kitchen at my birthday celebration spouting off that she thought ghostwriting fiction was wrong. Which his how I make my money sometimes.

Fisking the HuffPo, because writers need to GET PAID

See here.

Friday, September 4, 2015

G.E. Taylor

I became hooked on reading romance novels during my teen years and my attempt at writing began in high school. All of my manuscripts were mailed under my bed. Eventually, I threw out most of them. That was painful especially since I’d hand written them first, then typed them on my old typewriter.

In college I majored in English but ended up with a Master in Social Work and a Master in Education.

Though I had these different career paths, I never gave up my passion for writing. Now I’m much more committed to it and writing full time. I’ve drawn on my years of practicing social work to give my work authenticity and realism.

I live in New Jersey with my family.

Desperate Decision

Allison North’s flight to freedom is dangerous and desperate. As she scrambles into the stranger’s car crying “drive,” she prays to God this is not her last day on earth. Usually not a gambler, this move is high-stake gambling. Bruised, battered, and with no money, she needs a place to hide and heal until she finds work as a pastry chef. When the stranger offers her shelter, she takes it even as fear rushes up her throat and threatens to choke her. Would she live to regret her decision?

Mason Franklin cannot believe his eyes but, with her urgent cry ringing in his ears, he presses the gas and the car leaps forward. What had possessed her to do such a dangerous act? He intends to find out. But no amount of probing loosened her tongue. Just when he decides to let her go, he accidently sees her bruised body. Angry that someone did that to her made him want to meet the coward. He offers her shelter. Under his roof, he discovers she is the pastry chef who could not only lift his business to the top, but who built up a need in him that only she can satisfy. The wild passion they share can only lead to one conclusion.

Buy Links

The cold November air hit Allison hard, chilled her bones, and caused instant goose flesh to rise and cover her skin. She hunched over momentarily trying to ward off the chill. Her eyes scanned the train station as a possible place to hide, but she discarded the idea immediately. It was too open. The streets across from the apartment were busy and not easy to cross. Estimating her chance of crossing them before being captured, the odds were against her. She would not have the time or the strength to do it before they caught up with her. Moving as fast as she could, she walked across the courtyard, down the embankment to the sidewalk.

Several cars and other vehicles waited at the stoplight. Making a desperate decision, she stepped up quickly to a car and yanked the handle. The door opened and she scrambled inside, slammed the door shut, and locked it. The light changed from red to green. The driver, startled, pressed the gas. The car leaped forward only to stop abruptly. Several horns blasted behind him instantly.

“What the fuck!”

“Drive! Please drive,” she begged.

The sound of her voice carried a desperation that commanded him to obey. The car leaped forward as two people, a man and a woman, dashed into the courtyard. They hurried through the wrought iron gate onto the sidewalk looking up and down the street, peering into cars as they drove by. Allison eased down on the floor of the car until the stranger’s car circled the green and headed toward South Street. Her heart pumped furiously, and she swallowed with difficulty. Lifting her shaky hand, she eased herself upon the seat. She had no idea what she would say to this stranger when he stopped his car. He must think she was insane or had escaped from somewhere. She hadn’t. This was the first time in her life that she’d ever done anything like this.

He pulled into the parking lot at the supermarket, flung his door open, and walked around his car to the back right door. His long strides reached it before Allison got out. As she pushed against the door, he pulled it open. He was furious with her for not only scaring the living hell out of him, but for doing this unthinkable act. What could have possessed her to do it? She’d better have a damn good reason.

Tuesday, September 1, 2015

His Womanly Ways

I've written a number of manuscripts over the past few years, full-length novels that are in different levels of editing. And I've written quite a few short stories and novellas, all of which have been published (or soon to be published). However, I've only done NaNoWriMo once. The push to write at such a fast pace, in such a short time, is both freeing and terrifying. But, I figured I'd give it a try once. And as a result, I completed the first draft of His Womanly Ways.

This novel is unlike my usual fare of works, and perhaps that's why it came so fast to me. I let myself go and just saw where the plot would take me. And it turns out that it took me to quite an interesting place. The only thing I knew going in was that I wanted to do a genderswap book, but one that was unlike those I had read prior. I have always been interested in the genre, but I find most of it jumps straight to objectification rather than exploration. You're turned into another gender, so the first thing you do is feel yourself up and try to have sex with the nearest willing person? I don't buy that.

Essentially your body doesn't match your inner self anymore. That should cause some kind of journey to either accept or reject the situation. That's what I tried to do with His Womanly Ways. Alex didn't ask for this to happen to him, and the process is gradual, as is his acceptance of the changes. His mind doesn't match the image he sees in the mirror, and that's important to realize.

Did I strike the right note between humor and drama? Create an interesting storyline with realistic characters, despite the extraordinary circumstances they are in? That's up to the reader to decide, but I do hope I provide a new way to look at the concept. Because a change in gender is not something to take lightly.


Alex is a womanizer. He makes no excuses for it. Yes, he picks up women at the local bar, leaving them with just a memory of a good night and a good lay, but he hasn't had any complaints yet. That is, until he picks up the wrong woman. Not satisfied to be tossed aside as just another notch in Alex's bedpost, she curses him, wishing he “knew what it was like for a woman.” And he's about to find out what she means, embarking on a genderswap journey that he can't stop.

Alex starts slowly gaining secondary female characteristics; his body becoming more like a woman than the man he used to be. Alex tries to hide the changes he's going through, for fear that someone will discover his secret, but keeping this quite literally “under wraps” might be impossible before the curse runs its course.

With the help of his female best friend, Eve, Alex tries to deal with who he is becoming. He feels like he's lost his identity, his mind not matching the body he now has. But Eve sticks by him, and they become closer as Alex's changes progress. What started out as friendship may become something more before Alex's journey is over. Perhaps this curse was actually a blessing in disguise.


K. Lynn has been an avid reader and writer since childhood. While in college, K. Lynn increased her involvement in LGBT issues and writing within the LGBT fiction genre. She has become a long-time fan of the authors that seek to explore the commonality that exists within all sexualities and genders. Most of K. Lynn's work features LGBT characters, many of whom are in established relationships and show how love perseveres through every trial and tribulation that life holds. She also has a particular interest in seeing transgender characters gain a larger foothold within the LGBT fiction genre, hoping that the market for these works expand in the future. Contact K. Lynn at or follow her on Twitter @WriterKLynn

Torquere Press:
Barnes and Noble
All Romance
and wherever books are sold!

Monday, August 31, 2015


Why is it that we visited both an ice cream factory and a cheese factoryin Vermont, but we didn't see any cows until Maine?

Tuesday, August 18, 2015

Red Tulip - Flash Fiction

A couple of years ago I joined a flash fiction group. What's that?? Once a week the moderator posted a list of words and photos to be used as prompts to write a 500 – 1,000 word episode of a story.

Way back – and I mean waaay back – in 1901, Sir Arthur Conan Doyle published his book, The Hound of the Baskervilles, as a weekly serial. My flash fiction stories are similarly presented.

What are some word prompts – fantasy, extinct, brilliance, magic, apology, a body of water, night sky, cloud, moon, the twelfth of never, twinkle, sacrifice, and bells.

What are some photo prompts – well to start - a red tulip – similar to the one on the cover, a man in a bowler hat wearing a long coat holding a walking stick, a kitten, Santa, snow scene, clock tower, fireworks, moon, cups of coffee, blue DNA, and a waterfall.

Yes, they are very eclectic prompts and it was challenging fitting them into the story. The Santa Claus prompt came during December, but my story is set in the summer.

I decided to publish my flash fictions under the serial title of Romantic Flashes and Red Tulip is the first story. It's a sweet contemporary romance with a bit of mystery twisted into it.


Darcy O'Calahann, a junior gardener from a small mid-western town, is trying to make her way in the big city.

Shamus McRae is a wealthy bachelor with a mysterious family past.

Are Darcy's eyes playing tricks on her? Is she losing her mind? Or is there really a Red Tulip tying her and Shamus together?

Excerpt -

"When was the last time you were offered the gift of a red tulip?"

I turned to see who spoke while I wondered if he was addressing me. A man sat on a park bench, dressed in a dark suit, with a bowler hat, holding a cane and his head bowed. I shifted to continue along the path when his face lifted and I found myself gaping at two glowing green eyes.

"When was the last time you were offered the gift of a red tulip?"

I blinked, trying to look away from those mesmerising orbs. "Uh, never. I mean, no one has ever offered me a tulip."

"A red tulip."

"Okay, no one has ever offered me a red tulip." Uneasiness slithered through me.

Bio -

Victoria Adams lives in Ontario, Canada with her husband and pets. She likes to garden, cook and belly dance. She's been writing since she was little. Being an only child, long car rides were filled with making up stories in her head about the people she saw out the car window.

Victoria likes to write contemporary romance, NA contemporary romance and flash fiction. She has 4 published books, 3 anthologies and is releasing the first book in a series called Romantic Flashes.

Where to find Victoria
Facebook Author Page
Facebook – Books by Victoria Adams
Google+ -
Amazon Author
Plus – Triberr, LinkedIn, Goodreads etc

Monday, August 17, 2015

Cover reveal:Clouded
By M.S. Kaye

A Sumerian water and sky god myth collides with a modern high school.

Ayanna is a math nerd, logical and rational, even cold, but Calder makes her feel things she never had before. Somehow, she’s able to accept it when she discovers he’s a reincarnated Sumerian water god. Will she be able to accept the full truth, that the story of Enki and Inanna has been reborn in a modern Ohio high school?

Release Date: 9/12/15
Inkspell Publishing

About the Author:

M.S. Kaye has several published books under her black belt. A transplant from Ohio, she resides with her husband Corey in Jacksonville, Florida, where she tries not to melt in the sun. Find suspense and the unusual at

To receive news on upcoming releases, sign up for email updates on her website.

Contact M. S. Kaye at:
Facebook ~ Twitter ~ Google+ ~ Goodreads ~ Amazon ~ TSU ~ Pinterest ~ LinkedIn

Tuesday, August 11, 2015

Coffee Date

This year, a number of my releases are focusing on transgender characters, including Coffee Date. I have always been fascinated by both the perception of gender and the push of society to place people into specific gender roles. What does it mean to be a man or a woman? And what if you don't fit neatly into either role? Or if society has assigned you as one gender when you actually don't perceive yourself to be that gender? For my novella, Coffee Date, Alice is dealing with how society perceives her versus how she perceives herself.

I knew that I wanted to explore Alice's feelings in this novella, and that she would have built up a wall to protect herself from the hurt she'd experienced over the years since she began her transition. What I didn't know, and what she soon showed me through revealing her story, was how deep that hurt ran and how much damage it had caused. Alice is constantly trying to match up to what she thinks she should be, what society has taught her she should be, while making herself miserable because she hasn't reached that constructed reality. In the end, what she had to learn and what we all have to learn, is that you don't have to fit into anyone's constructed categories. Be yourself, whoever that might be.


Alice is finally happy with her body and her life—except for the part where revealing she's trans winds up leaving her hurt and abandoned over and over again. She's decided she's done making herself miserable by looking for love.

Love finds her anyway, in the form of Hank, the new guy at her local coffee shop. He's sweet, friendly, charming... and will probably turn out like all the rest. Determined not to shatter the fantasy and lose him before she has to, Alice holds fast to her secrets.

But if the truth doesn't ruin everything, the lies will, and it seems no matter which choice she makes Alice is set for just one more heartache.


K. Lynn has been an avid reader and writer since childhood. While in college, K. Lynn increased her involvement in LGBT issues and writing within the LGBT fiction genre. She has become a long-time fan of the authors that seek to explore the commonality that exists within all sexualities and genders. Most of K. Lynn's work features LGBT characters, many of whom are in established relationships and show how love perseveres through every trial and tribulation that life holds. She also has a particular interest in seeing transgender characters gain a larger foothold within the LGBT fiction genre, hoping that the market for these works expand in the future. Contact K. Lynn at or follow her on Twitter @WriterKLynn

Less Than Three Press
All Romance
and wherever books are sold!

Friday, August 7, 2015


He laughed at her, making her senses bristle.

She was not amused. “Am I humorous?”

“I have heard you are many things,” he replied, “but humor has never been cited as one of your virtues.”

“First you laugh at me, and then you belittle me. Is this the way you treat all women?”

He pulled back on the reins. His horse slid to an immediate standstill. Then, burying his face into her hair, he whispered in her ear, “I have shown enormous restraint. Would you like me to show you how I treat all women?”

The burning ember inside her flared to a flame. The muscles low in her belly tightened, as she clenched her legs tighter, wrapping them around his steed. Sucking air into her lungs, she felt the immediate pulse of desire race through the core of her body. She wanted to reach back over her head and wrap her arms around his neck, to pull him even closer.

It was all she could do to hold her tongue and keep from begging him, when all she wanted to say was, “Yes, yes, please show me.”

Her body motionless, she could feel the warmth of him as his hands grew bold, slipping beneath the soft linens covering her, his fingers gently gliding up over her stomach, traveling beneath her breasts and edging up…

A voice whispered inside her head. What are you doing? This man is your enemy. He intends to kill you, your brother, everyone you love…

She grabbed his wrists, holding him still and steady. “You have caught me, kidnapped me, and dragged me here. I may be your prisoner, but do not think that I am interested in your advances.”

His body tensed and he pulled back his hands, gripping her firmly about the waist. “I, Holger, the prince over all the Norse lands, have never had a woman decline the privilege of being my lover.”

“Prince or pauper, it matters not to me what rank you hold, for I, too, am highborn and accustomed to many privileges,” she snapped back, unwilling to let him bask in his own conceit. “And being your lover is not a privilege I would prize.”

“Perhaps,” he said, softening his touch. Slowly he ran his finger down the length of her neck, taunting her. “But are you accustomed to this?”


I grew up in a family with 9 kids and only 1 t.v. so I spent my days reading and, later, writing. I love books. . .maybe because I never got to pick our t.v. shows. I’d run home after school to catch the last fifteen minutes of Dark Shadows...

I still love to run.

I've just had my first novel published THE VIKING PRINCESS. I was inspired to write it after visiting Hamlet's Castle and seeing an enormous Viking statue down in the dungeon.

Stop by my site. I also have a young adult novel coming: Demon’s Ink.


THE VIKING PRINCESS is a legendary romance filled with honorable Knights from King Arthur’s Round Table, Salacious Pirates, and Brutal Vikings.

This is the story of the legendary Viking hero and Prince of Denmark, Holger Danske, and his forbidden romance with King Arthur’s half-sister, Morgaine LeFey. This tale has never been told outside of Denmark...until now. Morgaine and Holger faced an attraction more powerful than any sword, stronger than any warrior and more magical than all the powers of Merlin.

The Lady of the Lake gave Excalibur to King Arthur but she also gave his brother-in-law a sword made from the same metal and magic. That sword is “Cortana”.

The Viking Princess is an 80,000 word New Adult legendary retelling of folk-lore legend and Danish leader, Holger Danske, and his magical romance with the sorceress Princess Morgaine Le Fey.

They met on a battlefield, poised against each other, but their attraction was more powerful than any sword, stronger than any warrior and more magical than Merlin.


Tuesday, August 4, 2015

Summer’s Growth.

In the spirit-haunted Winston estate in Ohio, rooted in time and occupied by the lingering ghosts of a great family, the torch is about to pass...

Mattie Winston, sober, sensible, and steady, has served as Keeper to the family for decades. Amber Harrison, hovering on the edge of flunking out of college, unsure what she wants out of life, has barely even heard of the Winston estate. The family, however, has decided that it's time for the changing of the guard. These two exceptional women soon find themselves dealing with violence, murder attempts, and old family mysteries while each finding the love of her life. Two romances and a growing friendship, all twined around a brooding family tragedy, make for an outstanding paranormal mystery offering depth and charm beyond the commonplace. The growing love of Amber and Carter and of Mattie and Quincy offer readers a tender and engaging first novel in a winning new paranormal series.


Standing by the bay window in the front room, Mattie watched the car approach. She wanted to run, but instead glanced at the kindhearted spirit of Opal, her distant grandmother. Dressed in her best early American gown, the many layers of her petticoat swished with a soft hiss when she moved.

“There’s no reason to be nervous. Once you meet Amber, you’ll see she caps the climax,” Opal voiced in a soothing tone. “Your Aunt Rachel is absolutely thrilled to have a descendant from her branch of the family as keeper.”

Looking beyond her at the rest of the room, Mattie searched for the other members of the family council. They always offered her their support when she faced a big decision. Yet, today they were conspicuously absent.

“Don’t worry. The whole family is behind you. We just thought it better if we didn’t all hover.”

Shifting from foot to foot, she wrung her hands together. A simple process of a changing of the guard for them, Amber’s arrival marked the end of the life Mattie loved.

The beautiful spirits around her didn’t understand how cruel humans could be to each other. What if she screwed up and the girl left? Or the girl hated living with a house full of spirits?

Unease pricked at Mattie’s mind. She had no experience in dealing with strangers. All her business associates understood her likes and didn’t force her to attend any social events.

A quick glance out the window, and a car rounded the fountain. She wasn’t prepared to entertain Amber. How could she be? She never invited guests to the estate.

“Now, Pumpkin, there’s no need to worry. It’s time another branch of the family realize what a pain it is to be keeper.” Opal smiled, offering her special form of reassurance. “We’re all here to help with the transition.”

The high notes of Beethoven’s Fifth sprang from the piano. Mattie jumped in surprise at the sudden noise. She whipped around to see Uncle Samuel, the artist of the family, standing next to the piano.

“The game is afoot.” He arched his eyebrows and grinned, then disappeared.

“I’d better leave.” Her aunt patted Mattie’s shoulder. “Just remember, the girl is uneasy too.”

Opal disappeared.

With a deep breath, Mattie turned and gripped the cold metal knob in her hand.

Soon her home would belong to a stranger, and then what would she do?

Read the 1st Chapter of Summer’s Growth at

Find Tina Gayle everywhere
Google +

Sunday, August 2, 2015

Desiree Holt: Forward Pass (Game ON: Book One)

Football has been my passion for such a long time. It wasn’t always so. Oh, since college I have cheered for my team, the University of Michigan Wolverines, but it wasn’t until I read a book called How To Watch a Football Game that I actually became obsessed with the game. I mean, really obsessed! From September through January, every weekend you can find me glued to my television (sometimes two) watching this gladiator sport. My friends have learned I don’t answer phone calls, texts or even emails.

When I moved to Texas I discovered another dimension to the world of football: high school football, which is probably the biggest religion in the state. You know the program Friday Night Lights? That only scratched the surface. On any given Friday night, in a town that boasts a high school football team, you know where you’ll find the population: under the Friday night lights.

The world of football is a complex one. As the players move from high school to college to the pros, they are idolized, adored, promoted, all the things that can easily turn their heads. The late dean of sportswriters, Grantland Rice, dubbed it the world of the tumult and the shouting and he was so right.

But what happens to those players when “the tumult and the shouting” dies down? What do they do with the rest of their lives? And if their retirement from the football field is forced by an injury rather than being voluntary, how do they handle it?

In my brand new series Game On I follow the lives of a high school championship team fifteen years after they win that last trophy. Where are they? What are they doing? How do they survive when their lives change so dramatically?

Forward Pass is the story of Joe Reilly, quarterback with golden hands, forced out by an injury. For Joe, a major player with the ladies, it was a drastic fall to earth. But he’s found a new niche for himself and is successfully building a new life, until two women from his past have a major impact, one who has always loved him and one who threatens his newfound success.

Shay Beckham grew up idolizing her brother’s best friend, star quarterback Joe Reilly. There was no one in their Texas town who had the moves to match Joe on or off the field. Years later, he’s still a player who has what it takes to drive any hot-blooded woman wild. But Shay isn’t a kid with a bad case of hero-worship anymore. She’s grown-up and independent, with her feet on the ground and a serious head on her shoulders. If she could just say the same for Joe.

It’s been fifteen years, but Joe Reilly hasn’t forgotten the skinny little kid who used to follow him around like a shadow. What he can’t get over is that the skinny shadow has grown into one hell of an incredible woman. One any man in his right mind would kill to get his hands on. And one who seems to be completely immune to him. He knows he and Shay could have something special together. If he could only convince her he’s about more than just the game.


Known the world over as The Oldest Living Erotic Romance Author, Desiree Holt Has won an EPIC E-Book Award, the Holt Medallion and many other awards. She has been featured on CBS Sunday Morning and in The Village Voice, The Daily Beast, USA Today, The Wall Street Journal, The London Daily Mail and numerous other national and international publications

Saturday, August 1, 2015

Crashing into Love

Crashing Into Love is a box set of 7 stories written by 6 spectacular authors and myself. Each story is based on an airplane crash, fight for survival and romance. The idea was the brain child of D'Ann Lindun and Brenda Dyer.


Seven planes lift off…seven planes crash…seven stories of struggle, passion and love in the barren Canadian Wilderness, the coast of England, or the steamy heat of a tropical island. Romance hangs in the balance between survival and death.


Brace for Impact by Daryl Devoré. What could be simpler than a routine plane trip from Toronto, Canada to Caracas, Venezuela for rookie flight attendant, Lori, and sexy R.C.M.P. officer, Guy Lapierre? But Fate had other intentions.


Lori gagged on the bile rising in the back of her throat. She inhaled sharply to calm her stomach. If I'm going to die, it's not going to be with vomit all over my uniform.

A distant whimper caught her ear. She lifted her head and opened her eyes. The lady in 37D rocked back and forth in her seat. Lori fought the urge to run to her. Her flight attendant training told her to stay seated. The Captain had called, "Brace for impact."

Hang on, 37D. Just a bit longer. I understand how you feel. Isolated way back here in no-man's land at the back of the plane. No one's hand to hold for comfort. Alone. Scared. Me too.

The gentleman in seat 36C stood then pulled open the overhead bin.

Lori sat up taller. "Sir! The Captain said, brace for impact. Get back in your seat. Please."

He turned his head, glancing at her. Lori blinked. She'd noticed him as she did her rounds of economy class. Sexy tousled hair. An unshaven chin. Gorgeous smile. Focus on your job. "Sir. Please. Sit. Down."

He grabbed a bag out of the bin, slammed it shut and returned to his seat.

Her heart raced as she shouted out the words she'd practiced in flight attendant school a hundred times and prayed she'd never have to use. "Head down. Brace. Brace." She hoped the sound of her voice could offer a moment's relief to the terrified passengers in economy. They were her passengers. If she could hold each of their hands, she would. "Head down. Brace. Brac—"

The plane dropped and shuddered.

Buy Link -

Daryl Devore lives in an in old farmhouse in Ontario, with her husband, a large salt water aquarium, a tamed feral cat and some house ghosts. Daryl loves to take long walks up her quiet country road, or snow shoe across the back acres and in the summer, kayak along the St. Lawrence River. She has touched a moon rock, a mammoth and a meteorite. She's been deep in the ocean in a submarine, flew high over Niagara Falls in a helicopter and used the ladies room in a royal palace. Life's an adventure and Daryl's having fun living it.

Other Books by Daryl Devore
A Kept Woman
Sexy Red Hood
Black Dorn
Capri's Fate

Tuesday, June 30, 2015

#AskELJames: PR nightmare or was it???

Let me preface with with two things:

One I am writing this with a stomach bug and a possible sinus infection with about 10K to write in the next 36 hours.

Two, I haven't read any of the Fifty Shades of Grey books. Nor have I seen the movie. I could barely get through the sneak peek on Amazon. For those non-romance writers, Romance 101, don't stand in front of a mirror and describe yourself. I'm sure someone has done it well. E.L. James did not.

That said. I did spend some time yesterday on Twitter at the #askeljames hashtag just to see what was going to happen. As expected the tweets trashing the books versus asking actual questions were about a thousand to one. I might be optimistic on that, but I'm a writer, not a statistician.

I'm not going to talk about anything else bad about the book. There are enough blog posts on that topic. Including this one.

There are also blog posts talking about the relationship between Ana and Christian being abusive. This one handles that better than I ever could. As does this one.

I'm not going to address those (shudder) who missed the abuse in the book.

I won't go into any specific tweets, but the hashtag garnered several articles about it, all of them pointing out that this was a PR nightmare.

Entertainment Weekly's headline suggested that the campaign didn't go as well as expected.

US Magazine said that the questions would have made Christian Grey cringe.

Global News played on the BDSM aspect of Fifty Shades and said that E.L. James took a lashing.

But was it really a PR nightmare? What did that hashtag get many people to do? Talk about the books. As someone who would love a few more zeroes to the left of the decimal point in my royalty statements, I'd love for that many people to be talking about my book. Of course, I'd prefer it to be because I'm that fantastic a writer, but if you don't have that talent then you take what you can get.

Was this the catastrophe that everyone is saying it was? Or was it a fiendish plot? Did we all get played? Did we all take time out of our day to watch another author getting bashed? I'd bet there were many readers who stumbled upon that hashtag who had never read the books and said, "They can't be that bad."

What did those people do next? They went and bought the book.

Voila! Someone just might be a PR genius.

Thursday, June 11, 2015

Kristen Lamb says, "You Might Be a Writer."

A lot of “stuff” has been going on in my life lately. Hard stuff. Heavy stuff. The kind of stuff that just makes me want to write massacre scenes….except I am so brain dead I had to google how to spell “massacre.”

Masicker? Missucker?

WHAT AM I DOING???? *breaks down sobbing*

I am supposed to be an adult an expert okay, maybe functionally literate. Fine, I give up! I have nothing left to saaaaayyyyyy. I am all out of woooords *builds pillow fort*.

I figured it’s time for a bit of levity. Heck, I need a good laugh. How about you guys?

We writers are different *eye twitches* for sure, but the world would be SO boring without us. Am I the only person who watches Discovery ID and critiques the killers?

Read more.

Friday, May 29, 2015

A Dose of Danger by Kim McMahill


“Until what?” Grace screamed into the receiver, which was now dead.

Blue bolted from his position curled up in front of the fire, teeth bared, hair standing on the back of his neck, a low growl resonating from deep in his chest. Aussie joined in, and the two dogs’ reactions sent terror through Grace’s mind.

Hanging up the phone, she raced to the window and froze at the sight of headlights approaching the house. She prayed it was Logan, but after Sheriff Harris’s call she knew it was only wishful thinking. Grace grabbed the shotgun, and pulling the curtain back just a fraction, she peeked outside and waited for what felt like an eternity.

With the headlights shining directly at the house, she couldn’t determine anything about the vehicle, its make, or the number and identity of its occupants.

Grace’s mind raced through the possibilities, trying to determine the smartest course of action. What could she do? No landline and no cell reception…she was on her own. She could try to text someone, but doubted she had the time or that her trembling fingers could navigate the tiny keyboard.

She had a double-barreled shotgun, but that gave her only two shots before she’d have to reload. Aussie and Blue were ready to battle, but they weren’t trained guard dogs, just loyal. She had no intention of putting them in danger. She tried to rationalize the situation and not overreact. The vehicle might belong to a neighbor, a scared and lost traveler, or as far as she could see from her location, Logan.

The engine was silenced, but the headlights remained on, shining in the window, nearly blinding her. Grace focused on the scene, and after several moments a person stumbled out of the vehicle, a parka’s hood covering all identifying features.

As the lone figure slowly approached, Grace decided the most prudent action would be to keep her visitor at a distance until she determined his or her intent. She ordered the dogs to stay, and cracked the door just enough to wedge half her body and the shotgun into view.

“Stop right there. Don’t take another step, or I’ll blow you back to where you came from!” She was surprised at how steady, strong, and convincing her voice sounded as her knees threatened to buckle.


Kim McMahill grew up in Wyoming, which is where she developed her sense of adventure and love of the outdoors. She started out writing non-fiction, but her passion for exotic world travel, outrageous adventures, stories of survival, and happily-ever-after endings soon drew her into a world of romantic suspense. Along with writing adventure novels Kim has also published over eighty travel and geographic articles, and contributed to a travel anthology and cookbook. When not writing, Kim enjoys gardening, travelling, and spending time with family.


When researcher Grace Talbot and her team discover a possible solution for weight loss they become targets of a group dedicated to controlling the multi-billion dollar a year diet-product industry. Her unsanctioned testing methods bring tragedy to the family ranch, and the attention of the local sheriff’s deputy. With her colleagues either dead, missing, or on the run she soon realizes she must trust the deputy with her life, but can she trust him with her heart?

Links Amazon Buy Link:
Twitter: (@kimmcmahill)

Wednesday, May 27, 2015

There Are Places I Remember …

Many writers, especially mystery writers, start their writing with a character or a plot: the protagonist that readers will come to love and the storyline that will keep them enthralled.

Not me. I’ve always started with a place.

There’s a lot of interesting thought about how we’re connected to the spaces we inhabit, those we choose and those that are chosen for us, those we love and those we can’t wait to see the last of. I think it’s fascinating to consider those ideas.

There are places I’ve lived, or stayed, or even just visited, that will always be with me; there was something interesting or different or even mysterious about it that kept them tucked away in my brain, that caused me to love them.

And then there’s the contextual issue. I’m sure you’ve had the experience of going somewhere—entering a house, crossing a bridge, walking down a street, climbing a hill—and being suddenly and inexplicably overcome with some sort of sensation that’s related to where you are. The locale is sending you signals, sometimes wonderful, sometimes frightening, always interesting.

And the truth is that the feeling is rarely wrong: if a place starts tugging at me, even if I don’t immediately feel any attraction to it, a little work will reveal the jewels that are just waiting for a creative spirit to come along.

I got that feeling the first time I visited Montréal—decades ago—and it continued to reverberate over the years that I kept going back, until it was clear to me that I needed to respond. And so I started not just enjoying in a tourist kind of way, but really getting to know the city, which for me always involves starting with its past. And the more I read about that past, the more mysteries unfolded, a flower slowly unfurling its petals. There were a lot of reasons to keep exploring, explorations that led me to the story of the Duplessis orphans, the CIA’s MK-Ultra program, and the forbidding mansion known as Ravenscrag.

It’s not just me, and it’s not just Montréal. The next time you travel, take a trip into history as well, and see what mysteries you might discover!

About Asylum:

Women are being murdered in Montréal’s summer tourist season, and everything points to random acts of a serial killer—but it’s publicity director Martine LeDuc who discovers that the deaths reflect a darker past that someone wants desperately to keep hidden.

About the author:

Jeannette de Beauvoir grew up in Angers, France, but now lives on Cape Cod—as well as spending as much time as she can traveling and listening to the stories told by other places. Read more about her at