Wait! Summer's Over?

 

How did that happen? 

I confess, I've been inside a lot since March so I barely notice the change of seasons from spring to summer and now getting ready for fall. And, added onto that is that whatever is growing outside bothers my allergies, so, I'm indoors most of the time. 

And, of course, this is no UCR (usual-customary-reasonable) fall either. Staples and other stores selling school supplies should be packed. Beaches should be filled to capacity in that last effort to relax before the real world comes back. I should be on my way to Scotland for a 3-week tour/reseach/writing trip. But no, we're all trying to make our way from an unexpected summer to an unconventional fall. 

 The one thing that usually means summer to me is a visit to a beach - I love sitting on a beach and watching and listening to the waves. But mostly I like people-watching AND reading. I remember when my family rented a place on Long Beach Island and I began packing books first! The best part of that trip (since I had 3 boys at the time) was the long afternoon when my hubby took them back to the house and let me read uninterrupted on the beach for 4 hours! Bliss, sheer bliss! I may yet try to get down there for a couple of hours of beach reading....

Now (literally today!) the temps will shift a tiny bit cooler, forewarning us of the change of seasons coming. Personally, I love the fall - the cooler temps, the crispness in the air, the colors changing around me, the coming holidays. The smells of fireplaces and more baking will fill the air. Ahhhhhh. 

How about you? Are you mourning summer's departure or cheering fall's arrival? Was there a high point to your summer? Or expecting something fabulous this autumn? Let me know by commenting and I'll choose a summer and a fall person to receive a copy of my latest release - An Outlaw's Honor - or my rereleased - A Highlander's Hope. I'll choose on September 5.

 

Terri is working on her next Harlequin Historical romance while waiting for the release of TEMPTED BY HER VIKING ENEMY in November. The final book in the #SonsofSigurd series, it arrives on October 27(print) and November 1(ebook). Visit Terri's website for all the info! 

 

Are We There Yet?

Surely, I can't be the only one feeling this way, right? The rush up to the holiday season, then as each one passes the let-down? With Christmas and New Year's being midweek, it's a strange, confusing, time-out-of-time when you really don't know which day of the week it is or what you should be doing! 

Well, 2019 is moving on tonight  and I say good riddance to bad rubbish! Yeah, sadly, it's been another one of those years for me. Yet, even with all the negativity and struggle in my life, there have been wonderful times and people. Thank goodness, right? 

For me, my grandbabies have been an ongoing source of joy and wonder. Watching them grow bigger and smarter and funnier each day. Watching as they take on challenges (pre-school, swimming lessons, gymnastics and more) and relish in succeeding. And the joy they experience from every simple little thing that happens. Our whole family trip to Disney World was filled with that wonder and joy!  

Back in February, I had the opportunity to model for a womens' clothing company and what fun!

I spent the day having hair and makeup done and then modeling clothes along with 4 other 'real women' customers. It was amazing to work with the professionals -- photographers, videographers, clothing specialists, dressers, stage crew and executives -- and fun! They treated me like a queen all day and it was a wonderful new experience I never thought possible.

In late August/early September, I got the chance to spend a week on Lake Michigan with my Irish travel group of friends - aka the Plucking Monkeys. We spent the days and nights talking A LOT, writing, shopping, sunning, watching the storms cross the lake from Wisconsin and bring the lightning with them. Got to see the Milky Way and some meteors in the dark of night and we drank a bit of Irish Coole Swan. It was a rejuvenating week of friendship, kinship and fun. And it led me to.....


After two+ years of deep grief and depression, my writing is back! I was asked to join in two different collaborations and am actually writing stories again. I feared I would never find the words and it terrified me. But the week on the lake, stress-free and with wonderful friends who laugh at anything and everything, opened the door that had been shut!

So, as the year ends, I'm still dealing with sadness and family crisis, but am hopeful that things will get better in the New Year. I'm deep into my Viking story - the closer of a 5-book series from Harlequin Historicals called The Sons of Sigurd. Mine will come out in November 2020. I've got more books to write for Harlequin and a couple of smaller collaborative projects with other authors in the offing. But, the words are back and bubbling up from within.



So, are you looking forward to 2020? Leaving bad things behind as 2019 exits and hoping for good in the new year? I wish you all the best -- I hope that 2020 will be happy and healthy and kind and filled with all the joys you need and want -- and books, lots and lots of books!

Happy New Year! 

(and PS - in 2020, Valentine's Day, 4th of July, Christmas and New Year's are all on weekends!! )

A new Harlequin Historical Author -- Joanna Johnson by Michelle Styles

Once upon a time about last September, I went to the annual Association of Mills & Boon Authors lunch and then to the Toast to the Authors. As I went into the toast, an editor waylaid me -- she had that day telephoned a new author to buy her book for Harlequin Historical. She'd been very nervous as she was about to go on sick leave for a few weeks and did not want to delay one second as she wanted the story scheduled as soon as possible. Luckily the woman in question had answered and all was fine. The editor loved the book and wanted to ensure the author in question was scooped up by the other Historical authors because she had taken to heart my little talk about hard it can be for new authors as it is a steep learning curve. It was the first time I had seen an editor immediately post call and believe me they are every bit as thrilled and excited as the author in question. They love finding new talent.They want to nurture that talent and they are secretly hoping when manuscripts get returned that they do get the chance to buy so other people can get the same thrilling read.

Anyway, as requested  I scooped up Joanna Johnson who was still in that state of pleased bemusement. I was thrilled to do so as it can be such a daunting experience to be new. And she agreed to tell her side of the story: 

I definitely didn’t expect to get ‘The Call’ while 100 miles away from home, standing in my parents’ kitchen.

I’d sent the full manuscript for my first historical romance, The Marriage Rescue, off to Julia Williams at Harlequin a few weeks before. She had given me some very useful and encouraging feedback on an earlier draft, but I assumed her emailed request to phone me was to explain my rewrites hadn’t quite hit the mark. You can probably imagine my reaction then when instead of a kind rejection she offered a two-book contract – I think only bats and dolphins could have understood my squeaking! Being a published author was something I’d always dreamed of but never expected would really happen, so it took quite some time to sink in. It still hasn’t fully, although I’ve had fantastic support and a very warm welcome from the Romance community.

The heroine of The Marriage Rescue is the feisty Selina, a young Roma woman left with little choice but to marry country squire Edward. Roma culture has always interested me and I wanted to explore one of my favourite timeframes, the Regency era, through that lens. It was fascinating to research more deeply the customs and way of life of those on the road in 19^th-century England, contrasting sharply with the Jane Austen-esque world that was more familiar. Travellers faced such abuse and prejudice, reflected in Selina’s somewhat spiky demeanour – developing her personality was one of the things I enjoyed most about writing the book, as well as her struggle to overcome some prejudices of her own.

I think what I love most about historical romance fiction is the escapism. While writing The Marriage Rescue I could step into the shoes of a completely different person from a completely different time and try to experience life from their viewpoint, while being reassured there would definitely be a happy ending! It opens a window into another world and I’m not sure there’s anything I’d rather write. Hopefully that love will shine through, and others will enjoy reading the book (almost) as much as I enjoyed writing it.

Joanna  also kindly allowed me to read an advanced copy of The Marriage Rescue. It is a Regency but with an unusual twist -- the heroine is a Roma. Most Regency featuring  Roma have a Heathcliff vibe with the hero in question being part gypsy,  but Johnson really delves into the Roma culture and provides a worthy heroine who is fully Roma and more importantly at the start wants to stay that way. The story is a good one and a very pleasant way to pass a few hours. I look forward to seeing Johnson's undoubted talent grow as she learns to work with her voice. There is no doubt in my mind that Joanna Johnson  is far more than a one-book wonder.

You can read the first chapter for free here: https://aerbook.com/books/-210802.html

Michelle Styles writes warm, witty and intimate historical romances for Harlequin Historical in a wide range of time periods. Her latest Sent as the Viking's Bride was published in January 2019 and her next Viking (Tentatively titled Ramsomed by the Viking's Kiss) will be out later this year. You can learn more about Michelle and her books on www.michellestyles.co.uk 

In Like a Lion, Out Like a. . . Lion?

It's that old adage that is espoused every year at this time - March roars in  like a lion and goes out like a lamb. Well, I'm guessing no one told Mother Nature about this because this month has been the craziest for those of us in the Northeast. Four....count 'em....four Nor'easters formed and stormed up the Atlantic coast bringing strong winds, heavy rain then snows, flooding, icing and other assorted weather conditions. Almost like clockwork, they formed and moved each week, usually on Monday or Tuesday, all through March. Last week - during our heaviest snow event -- even Jim Cantore of the Weather channel was in my area - and you know that means it was bad around here! LOL!

Thank goodness, March ends today and we can be done with those!

Holy April Fools joke, Batman! Another storm is on its way tomorrow into Monday (and vague rumors of another next week)!! Don't misunderstand - I'm the one who loves snow and snowstorms. I love watching it snow....love the quiet and the muted sounds....love the way the white stuff covers everything making it look pristine.

I love sitting at my desk with that view next to me.

But I know I'm crazy and everyone else I know was soooo over snow by the second storm. 

I think I'm the only one who also likes winter in general. I love cold weather and the lack of the allergens that will fill our air soon, making it impossible to breathe or stop sneezing.  I like feeling the need to put on a coat and gloves....and love it when it's cold enough for a hat or ear muffs. As I said, I know I'm the crazy one in this!


Don't lose hope yet if you don't like winter and wintry weather -- Spring has been making valiant efforts to break through. My crocuses and daffodils have been up for almost a month. The trees are budding and I've seen robins around here for weeks. Our temperatures have already reached the 70s several times and the smell of Spring is in the air now.

Maybe that's why I enjoy March? There is a possibility of all sorts of weather all month long - and snow can sneak in and brighten me up any time. Sigh....

So, how about you? Yearning for Spring or still wishing for Winter? Are you more of a hot weather Summer person? Or do you like the mix of Fall? What's your favorite kind of weather or season of the year? Post a comment or photo to share yours and I'll pick one person who comments who will receive one of my books and a wee giftie! 

I'm very excited to announce that CLAIMING HIS HIGHLAND BRIDE will be available in retail stores in a special edition in July! I hope you'll look for it and support our Harlequin Historical line in print!

Nicole Locke - Birthday Giveaway and Release!

I’m celebrating this month.

First off, it’s my mum’s birthday today. To say how grateful I am for her in my life isn’t enough. Happy Birthday, mum! Love you lots. Really do.

I’m also celebrating the release of Rhain and Helissent’s story: The Knight’s Scarred Maiden.

Let me tell you a bit about it.

Mercenary knight Rhain wanders the lands, fights for coin, and is haunted by his past. Then in a wreck of an inn, he tastes a cake made sublime with honey, and rescues a woman he wants more than any sweet. But with a vengeful warlord pursuing him, he’s merely a dead man awaiting the sword.

Helissent’s family died in a tragic fire, and she bears the scars for all to see. When she’s forced from her home, she bargains with her cakes for the traveling mercenaries to take her to a different town, even though, disfigured and shamed she survived when her family didn’t, she knows she’ll never have a better life.

Along the way, both Rhain and Helissent reveal their pasts, and begin to long for a future. But with the enemy pursuing them both, is it too late?


There’s so much to this story. A fun fact would be that the heroine, Helissent, is a baker. She compares her struggles to failed bakes, and thinks of people like ingredients. She also talks in baking terminology, which confuses many a discussion. I loved discovering how she thought.

So I had the bright idea to try a few of her Medieval recipes. Let’s just say I had a few failed bakes of my own, and I shared my misadventures at the Harlequin Blog: http://harlequinblog.com/2017/05/misadventures-in-medieval-cooking-recipe
If you want to follow the Blog Tour from August 1st to August 25th, where I talk more about the story, what's on my desk and even in my closet, the schedule is here:

https://rbpp-nicolelocke.blogspot.com

 Now, to celebrate the release, I’m giving a signed copy of The Knight’s Scarred Maiden to one randomly chosen person who comments to this post.

The question is: How do you like celebrating special occasions?

The contest is internationally available and I’ll keep the comments open until August 22^nd when I announced the winner!

When Beauty Meets the Beast

The second instalment of my Wild Warriners series comes out in a few days, this story belongs to the second eldest, Jamie Warriner, the gruff and wounded former soldier. A Warriner to Rescue Her was positive joy to write because I already knew Jamie pretty well from the first book. In fact, as soon as I wrote the words The End on A Warriner to Protect Her, I started this straight after and from the outset it just flowed.

Initially, I had lofty plans to write a story filled with intrigue, using Jamie’s background as a highly skilled officer in covert recognisance. However, as so often happens in my odd head, my characters led me on a completely different path. Instead of going off on an adventure away from home, Jamie stays put. He’s still tortured by his demons, scared of the latent, dangerous violence within him and believes that his life is over after accepting the damage to his leg and broken mind will never heal. While feeling a little bit sorry for himself, he meets the woman of his dreams under quite unusual circumstances.

‘Hello!’ A slightly panicked woman’s voice came from above. ‘Is somebody there?’

‘Hello?’ He hadn’t been expecting to address the sky. The sun pierced Jamie’s eyes to such an extent he could not see a thing except blinding yellow light. The woman’s exact location remained a mystery. Unless she was an angel sent to fetch him and drag him off to heaven, which he sincerely doubted. They had had their chance and failed miserably and if he was bound for anywhere it was probably hell. ‘I can’t see you!’

‘I am in the tree… I wonder if you would be so good as to assist me, sir. I appear to be stuck.’

Surreal words, again unexpected. How did a woman come to be stuck in an apple tree? Jamie did his best to shield the worst of the glare with his hand and squinted through the tangled branches. Two wiggling feet dangled nearly six feet above his head. They were encased in half-boots and were attached to a very shapely pair of female legs, clad in fine silk stockings which were held up with rather saucy pink garters. His eyes widened at the garters. From this perspective they appeared to be completely festooned with flowers. Above them, about an inch or two of creamy thigh was also on display. The rest of the woman was hidden by leaves.

From then on, Cassie Reeves- the effervescent vicar’s daughter with secrets of her own- brings some much-needed chaos and purpose to Jamie’s life. Cassie writes children’s stories involving her horse Orange Blossom, and against his better judgement, Jamie gets dragged into illustrating them. They are an unlikely pair- think Beatrix Potter meeting the Incredible Hulk- but they are made for each other.

Perfect soulmates.

Something everyone else works out very quickly. Everyone else accept for Jamie, of course…

You can read a sneak peak of the first chapter HERE

Nobody Trusts a Warriner...

I am almost beside myself with excitement because I have finally written my first series. Well almost.
I’m still writing book four, but the rest are done and will soon all be released into the wild- which is apt because they are called The Wild Warriners. Four sinfully handsome, down-on-their-luck brothers ostracised from society thanks to the antics of their troublesome ancestors.

The first in the quartet- A Warriner to Protect Her- came out a few weeks ago and is doing really well. The reviewers seem to like it (thank goodness!) and there has already been a bit of a buzz about book two, A Warriner to Rescue Her, which doesn’t come out till July. I suppose I could waffle on about what it’s about and what my inspiration was, but instead I thought I’d share with you a little taster…

Jack strode on to the landing, only to be confronted by the sight of Letty looking deliciously sleep rumpled at her door. She had only opened the door enough to poke her head around, but Jack saw the tantalising glimpse of a female leg where it poked beneath the hem of yet another one of his shirts and the sight irritated him. The blasted woman was handy with a needle. She had started embroidering little patterns on everything from napkins to pillowcases. Weeks ago, she had begun making a dress—which was still not finished—so why could she not fashion herself a proper nightdress? One that came to the floor and covered all of her soft, silken skin. And while she was about it, she should probably plait the wild, golden riot of curls that hung past her shoulders and tempted him to touch. An ugly nightcap would not go amiss either.
‘What’s happening?’ she asked.
‘There’s a storm. We need to round up the animals. Go back to bed Letty. You’re in no danger.’
‘I can help.’
Jack was in no mood to be tactful. ‘No, you can’t. Go back to bed.’

The storm would take his mind off her; he didn’t need the additional burden of an heiress faffing about and getting in his way when he had a serious job to do. He saw her fine eyes narrow just before she slammed the door shut and he turned away, striding briskly to the stairs. It was just as well. If she had argued with him, he would have bitten back twice as hard. Lack of sleep always brought his temper close to the surface and, as Letty was responsible for the deficiency, he doubted any confrontation would end well tonight. Not after their splendid chat in the barn earlier, when she had thanked him for being so sensible about not pursuing their mutual attraction, then blithely gone about her day as if the words he had wrenched out of his gut and choked hollowly out of his mouth had not sounded the death knell on all his secret hopes of a miracle.

She might have argued then, as she was prone to when she heartily disagreed with something, and perhaps given some credence to the idea that their two worlds could merge if they both wanted them to. But of course she hadn’t. Only a tiny part of him had expected her to—a part which he hadn’t even realised existed until he had categorically listed for her all the reasons why there was nothing except lust between them. Even as he said the words he knew them to be false. What he felt for Letty was more than just desire. He genuinely admired her tenacity and her sunny disposition. Her indomitable spirit. The woman never let anything beat her, whether that be kidnappers or roasted chickens. And since the very first moment he had found her frozen and terrified in the road, a part of his jaded, wary, Warriner heart would always be hers. Yearned to be hers. Maybe those rash feelings were due to his customary and ever-present sense of responsibility—but if that was entirely the case, why, when he had held her chilled body in his arms that night, had her presence in them felt so very…right?

If only she had been a random, ordinary girl of no consequence instead of The Tea Heiress. Then maybe he would have stood a chance and taken a gamble. It didn’t help knowing, thanks to hours of rifling through Jacob’s collection of newspapers when nobody was looking, that when the newsmen wrote the words Tea Heiress they were always put in italics, as if she were so special, so above everyone else, that only a select few in society were on a par with her. Now he knew her, he realised they were right. Letty was an incomparable…and so very far out of his reach as to be laughable.

Unfortunately, that same tiny part of him which had held out for the miracle earlier was now disproportionately grieving the inevitable loss of her in his life, even though he never really stood a chance of her remaining in it. He had also read about her life in those same newspapers and it was a life he could never hope to give her. The finest clothes, balls, jewels and a prominent and revered place in society. The moment Jack had reminded her of her wealthy Duke, she’d nodded and smiled and immediately switched her thoughts to getting home to Mayfair. Which had been his intention. Because any hope of a future between them was ridiculous. Wasn’t it? So he should be happy he had been the sensible one.

But he wasn’t.

‘We need all the ropes we can carry.’ His three brothers were assembled in the kitchen, the lanterns already lit. ‘The river has burst its banks. If one of us has to venture into it, then we’ll be tethered to something first. If we drive the sheep to the west pasture, they will be safe. Jamie—check on the horses, then the cows. See that none of them have injured themselves.’
His brother’s face clouded with barely suppressed fury. ‘I am not a blasted invalid, Jack. I’ll help you three with the sheep first. The horses and damned cows can wait!’
‘I’ll see to the horses and cows.’ Jack spun around to see Letty marching towards him in a greatcoat that swamped her and wearing an expression of complete and total defiance. Jamie nodded and handed her a lantern, clearly delighted not to be relegated to lighter duties because of his injuries.

‘Go back to bed, Letty! It’s dangerous out there.’ And Jack could already feel the beginnings of a knot of worry at the thought of her out in that storm. The last time she had been exposed to bad weather she had almost died. ‘This is no place for a woman like you.’

She marched fearlessly in front of him and stuck out her chin, not the slightest bit intimidated by the angry way he loomed over her. ‘I am not some silly, spoiled, empty-headed fool.’ Her finger prodded him firmly in the chest. ‘And whilst your brothers might well listen to your orders, you are not my master Jack Warriner. Or my husband. And you never will be. So don’t expect me to obey you. I am helping. Deal with it.’ She spun on her heel and stomped stubbornly towards the back door. Without a backward glance, she flung it open and flounced into the raging tempest...

Lara Temple: Dreaming up books …Or how realizing my dream squished my daydreams

Last spring my first book was published by Harlequin Mills&Boon. This month my third book, The Duke’s Unexpected Bride, has hit the shelves and I still can’t quite believe it. Becoming a published writer has changed my life in quite a few ways, mostly for the better.

First off, I’ve cut back (drastically) on my other career and now spend an obscene number of hours at the kitchen table, writing. I have a work study but in my mind that is associated with my other job and doesn’t do much for my creative juices. My kitchen overlooks the garden and the fruit trees and the green and quiet are perfect for writing.

Then there’s the internal/external image change. When people ask me what I do, I no longer tell them about my ‘other’ job. I actually say – I write books. Would you hazard a guess if that evokes a different response than ‘business consultant’? Whether the response is positive or negative (yes, there are those, of course), it’s never neutral.

But those are just surface changes. The real changes are internal. I’ve had a few careers in my life but only one vocation – I’ve always known I love writing stories, but I never really believed I would be published or do it for a living (the latter part is still pending – writing, like many creative professions, is financially challenging).

There is always a danger in dreams coming true - they lose the shiny haze of the Potential and take on the hard, elbow grease glaze of the Actual. Writing is just like any profession – it is very hard work, a chunk of which has nothing to do with the creative process. The joys of creation far outweigh the slog, but it is a constant balancing act. Even once you are published you can obviously still fail at any point. Now the stakes are higher than they ever were – if the dream is no longer a potential but an actual, failure would be actual too.

But being a business consultant, I was at least prepared for that part of The Change. What I wasn’t prepared for was a completely different loss – my daydreams.

Until I became a published author a large part of my creative process was daydreaming dreaming. Some people need to read a book before they go to sleep, I needed to write one – or at least imagine one.

Sometimes when I was stuck on a hard project at work I would take a few minutes, make a cup of tea, and daydream away. My mind would slip into an alternate world and all my worries and woes and tensions would melt and fade and so would I. Every night I could sail off in the arms of another of my wonderful heroes into a new adventure, commitment free.

Here is a quote on dreams from the English Patient I knew was ‘written about me’ when I read it: “Moments before sleep are when she feels most alive, leaping across fragments of the day, bringing each moment into the bed with her like a child with schoolbooks and pencils. The day seems to have no order until these times, which are like a ledger for her, her body full of stories and situations.”

But now everything is different – every ounce of my creative juice is conserved for my writing. I don’t intend it to be that way, but I am living and breathing my novels and the moment I close my eyes I am deep in them, tangling with tales, wrestling with plot twists, and milking every second of creative time to refine and deepen my writing. There is a different kind of beauty in these moments – the characters in my novels become dear to me, or frustrating, but always important, and I can’t treat them casually like I used to once indulge in my day-dreams. I miss my no-strings-attached daydreams but accept that they will never be quite the same again.

Maybe it is part of growing up as an author – our dreams mutate with us.

So I will end on another quote, this time from Neil Gaiman: “A book is a dream that you hold in your hands”. I’m holding three dreams in my hands now, all mine, and my head is filled with many more, simmering on the boil and waiting their turn with varying degrees of impatience. So even if my daydreams have been overtaken, it is a small price to pay for living my dream. 

Excerpt from The Duke’s Unexpected Bride (May 2017)

'May I have my sketch back, please?’ Sophie asked.

Something in Max’s dark grey eyes as they moved over her face increased her already significant discomfort. Then his mouth relaxed, bringing to the surface the amused warmth she had glimpsed before.

'Would you consider giving it to Hetty?’ he asked. ‘I think she would love to have it. She is not my wife, by the way, but my sister, hence the resemblance.'

Sophie’s face heated with a sudden burning blush.

'Oh dear, I’m so sorry. I always say more than I ought. Of course you may give it to her. Here.'

She held it out to him, wishing the blush would fade.

He reached for it just as Marmaduke awoke with a snort and she started and the sketch slipped from her grasp. The pug, his eye catching the fluttering page, readied himself to leap but she managed to capture it just as he grabbed for it as well. His hand closed half on the page, half on her bare hand and she drew back, shocked by the heat of his touch. It had only been a second but her skin retained the imprint of his fingers and her body tingled as if it had been dipped in hot water.

Book Buy Links:

Amazon: http://amzn.to/2lXdgUZ

Harlequin: http://bit.ly/2n53GkT

Kobo: https://www.kobo.com/us/en/ebook/the-duke-s-unexpected-bride

Author Contact Links

Website: www.laratemple.com

Facebook: www.facebook.com/laratemple1

Twitter: @laratemple1

Amazon author page: http://amzn.to/2mWin9R

Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/LaraTemple

Friends Don't Let Friends Write Alone!

      One of the most amazing things about the romance writing community is the friendships and support there. Yes, technically we are all competitors, but I think the message was best said by Harlen Coben at a workshop I attended years ago -- 'no one has to fail for me to succeed.'  And, in the romance community more than in any other, there's not just acceptance of other writers, but also the offering of help and support every step of the way. 

     So, along the way, I've found a number of writing friends who have been there for me when I need them and sometimes when I don't even realize that I do! Large groups like the Harlequin (Historical) Hussies - lots and lots of authors who write the amazing stories in the HH line-- as well as smaller groups like the Hermits. The Hermits are the group of authors who gathered each November at a beach house in Charleston to write and brainstorm and chat and drink wine (and watch Dancing With The Stars and Castle). Let me tell you that those women have saved my sanity more than once over the years!

    One of the other groups I've found is one of authors in the southeastern PA/northern DE area...and me - I'm from NJ. We've known each other for years and about two or so years ago, we began getting together on a regular monthly basis. We started calling ourselves Writers-Who-Lunch and spent the first couple of lunches chatting about all sorts of things including writing and publishing and news and kids. But then someone said - 'hey, we're writers, we should write something together!' 
 
     Within a month or two, we'd gathered for a brainstorming session, chosen a family name (the Blackwoods)  and common history (a Jacobite rebel is transported to Pennsylvania after the Rising in 1715), driven all over Chester County looking at horse farms and stone houses and decided the theme of the first collection - brides! We each picked our time period and generation and planned out our stories -- all the while meeting each month and making sure it all worked together. There were genealogy charts and time lines and historical research on indentured servitude and so much more. One of the original authors had to step out and another friend stepped in. It was so exciting and invigorating and inspiring to work with authors with different voices and stories and yet see everything fall in place. 
 
     Yesterday we held the first print copy of the anthology in our hands and I admit it - there were tears! The author who joined us midway has never been published before so this is her debut and it was so special to watch her face as she held that book in her hands. 

     It is a special moment in an author's career and it was even more special to be part of it and to share this project with these other women....it's just what writers do for other writers. 




 
 Brandywine Brides - A Blackwood Legacy Anthology will be released on April 25 in digital and print editions across retailers. The digital edition is now 99¢  - a special pre-order and first week price! 


Kindle        Nook       iBooks      Kobo     

If in doubt, thunk...

About five minutes ago I was sat on my sofa avidly listening to an impassioned sales pitch on QVC while I was eating my breakfast.

This is sooo convenient,” the presenter enthused holding his mobile phone up to the screen for me to see, “It doesn’t matter where I am- I could be on the train on my way home, at the supermarket or even on my way back from the airport after a long holiday- and I can control my thermostat!”

I am not going to lie. She had me sold. How brilliant would that be? No matter where I am, I can adjust my thermostat, thus ensuring the house is snug and cosy upon my return! And just in case that wasn’t fabulous enough, this wonderful system, priced at a very reasonable £249, was also on easy pay instalments!

My cup literally runneth over. Where had this wonderful gadget been all of my life? I hastily pulled out my own mobile phone, because it is already loaded with the QVC app in readiness for such an eventuality, and quickly put the item into my virtual shopping basket. After all, they had already sold over two hundred of them so far this morning and I certainly did not want to be the dithering fool who missed out…

Then I stopped and did what me and my husband call some ‘thunking’. Because to ‘thunk’ something means to resist the temptation to act on your first instinct. You have to weigh up the pros and cons properly, then make a reasoned decision. Like Socrates or Plato would have done in days of yore.

So I sat and contemplated the pros: virtual control, cosy home, perhaps even a reduction in my utility bills. Splendid. Cons: I usually go on holiday in the summer months when the heating is off anyway, £249 is actually quite a lot of money to do something which is effectively only a flick of the wrist, I work from home…

Good grief!

I work at home, in constant, easy reach of my own thermostat. What an idiot! Why was I even considering such a ridiculous gadget at all?

And that, Dear Reader, sums me up perfectly in a nutshell.

I am an independent, intelligent woman. I have a degree. I used to be a teacher. I write books for a living for pity’s sake, yet beneath all of that common sense, I am a sucker for clever marketing. My husband often comments I would buy a bottled fart if it had the word NEW emblazoned across it. I wish this statement was not accurate, I really do. But alas, I am weak and open to suggestion.

My house is filled with things which, frankly, never should have been bought in the first place. And all because of the lure of hypnotic words like ‘New’, ‘Introductory Offer’ and my personal nemesis ‘Limited Stock’.

I have an electric egg boiler, which claimed to take all of the faff out of boiling an egg. This miraculous invention involves piercing the bottom of the egg with a strange pin attachment so it doesn’t explode during the revolutionary new process. Then you have to measure the exact amount of water for the number of eggs being boiled and according to the desired firmness of the finished egg. Once you have done that, you put the water into the machine, close the device and hey presto! Five minutes later you get the perfect three-minute runny egg. Or not, as actually proved to be the case. But it was ‘New’ and shaped charmingly like a yellow chicken so I had to have it.

Then there was the revolutionary seamless bra which, and I quote, “this unique new bra conforms to your curves… has no wires or hooks that can dig into your skin… giv(ing) you a perfect lift and a smooth shape… is so comfortable it won't even feel like you're wearing a bra at all.”

Well, they got that part right. I’m a big girl in the boob department, and the seamless bra did little to defy gravity. What it did do was flatten my ladies and push them downwards in a most unflattering way! The silhouette created when I looked in the mirror was soul-destroying.

And then there are all those beauty products which make promises they cannot keep. I have not yet found one which significantly reduces wrinkles, repairs damaged hair or gives my complexion the dewy glow of my youth! But I keep buying them because of their clever advertising, I have versions in every premier brand cluttering my bathroom cabinet, each one ultimately a crushing disappointment. Little jars of lies which taunt me every time I reach for the floss. What they do, do is empty my bank balance and make me feel stupid for trusting my aging body with them in the first place.

And as for the miracle grass seed I purchased to repair the bald patches in my lawn. You PROMISED the seed would begin to grow in just SEVEN days. It’s day twelve. There has been plenty of rain and a good amount of spring sunshine. The exact conditions, I am reliably informed, which are perfect for grass seed to grow in.

Look at my lawn people. Just look at it…

Virginia Heath writes witty, fast-paced Regency romantic comedies with a modern twist for Harlequin Mills & Boon Historical. Her novel,The Discerning Gentleman's Guide, was recently nominated for a RoNA (Romantic Novel of the Year Award)

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