His Blushing Bride - More Marietta!

Are you as in love with Marietta as I am? We, the authors, are seeing a lot of comments like this on Netgalley, Goodreads and Amazon:

"I've genuinely loved the Marietta Mini series from Tule publishing..."

And we look, yes, we do! We want readers to be as excited to visit this wonderful town and all our characters as we are to write their individual stories.

Which is why I'm so pleased to be part of the latest "Married in Marietta" Bride series. Have you seen the covers?

Very pretty, right? I happen to have bookmarks that look like this. If you would like me to mail you one, contact me through my website (http://danicollins.com/contact/) or message me through Facebook (https://www.facebook.com/DaniCollinsAuthor) with your postal address. I'll pop one in the mail to you.

Now, I'll be honest. One of the reasons I love visiting Marietta is to visit my own characters. While I do my best to pick up other authors' characters for a line or two, I feel most comfortable bringing my own back onstage. In His Blushing Bride, you'll see all the characters from my previous three Montana Born novellas.

Bastian (Sebastian) is actually the brother of Liz from Blame The Mistletoe so I thought it would be fun to include a bit of their interaction for you here:

Excerpt from His Blushing Bride:
(note: I cleaned up the language in this posting. The book uses real swears.)

Bastian ran out to the ranch first thing, gave Blake a hand for an hour, then drove his sister into Bozeman where she shopped for maternity wear and stock for the spa. He bought a new laptop, tablet, and phone along with a few more shirts and shorts, a decent suit for the wedding, some sunglasses and—

“What are those for?” Liz asked in a tone so accusatory, the entire drugstore stopped to glance their way.

“I begin to see how you wound up pregnant,” Bastian said dryly. “Did I make a big deal about you buying a breast pump?”

She gave him the tight-lipped, displeased older-sister look, but stowed whatever she wanted to say until they were in the car.

He threw the bag with the box of condoms at her feet. No way was he going to apologize for being a healthy, responsible adult.

“I guess my real question is, who are those for?” she said, delicately shifting her feet away from the bag.

“Seriously?” She wasn’t teasing. This was a real question, and he couldn’t believe it was coming out of her mouth, directed at him and not her teenaged daughter. “It’s none of your business, Liz.” He shouldn’t have to point that out.

“This isn’t California, you know. Word gets around. Just tell me it’s not Petra’s teacher,” she said shortly.

“It’s not Pet’s teacher,” he lied.

“Liar,” she blasted, bracing an elbow on the door and covering her eyes. “Seriously, Bastian. Do you have to sleep with every single female that crosses your path? There’s a word for it, you know. Man-whore.”

“I think you’re a whore if you take money for it. When you do it just ’cause you like it, you’re a slut.”

“I see. This is how we’re playing? Nearly a doctor and you still haven’t grown up?”

“Stick with, ‘Quit screwing anything that moves.’ The ‘Get a real job’ speech is Dad’s.”

“I just don’t know why you can’t commit to one woman, settle down, and—”

“Yell at my kids?” he cut in sharply. “Make my wife cry? Be so unbearable to be around that my son tells me to get lost and my daughters get married out of high school? How did that work out for you, by the way?”

She kept her face to the window, not answering.

He swore under his breath. “Did I make you cry? Now I feel like a jerk.”

“You are a jerk.” She sounded cross, not hurt. When she looked at him, her face was worried. “Is that really it, Bastian? You don’t think you’d make a good husband? Because I think you’d be a great dad.”

He sighed, annoyed. Frustrated. And kind of relieved she’d say that. There were times when he envied his sisters. Their kids were great and their middle sister’s marriage was actually pretty good.

But marriage and family life had always struck him as suffocating. A trap. Their father sure hadn’t been happy. Men weren’t the only ones to feel that way, either. The women, the sheer multitude of unhappy wives who’d hit on him because they couldn’t stand their husbands… Why set himself up for infidelity and a messy divorce when he could skip getting married altogether?

Which wasn’t something he needed to say to his pregnant, engaged sister. She was upset enough. She knotted her hands over the bump in her lap. “Dad had PTSD. I wish our childhood had been different too, but there’s nothing we can do but accept it.”

Yeah, their old man had been the gift of misery that kept on giving while they were growing up. In some ways, he still was. He set very high standards, especially for his son, and wasn’t very forgiving of deviation. But Liz was right. They couldn’t go back in time and change anything. Bastian had fully accepted that. But…

“Listen. It looks like you’re getting it right this time. Blake seems great. I had to wonder about your decision to marry and have a kid and move to off-the-map Montana, but I respect your choice, Liz. And I’m making a different choice,” he summed up firmly. It was something their father had never made peace with.

Liz was slightly more progressive. She sighed out a long, suffering, “Fine. Live your life the way you want. But—not with Pet’s teacher.”

He wasn’t going to plead his case. He simply would live his life however he saw fit and Piper had the same option.

~ * ~

I'll be at the Romantic Times Convention in Dallas when this posts and, as I write this, His Blushing Bride is only available for pre-order so I only have the quick links below, but it is releasing on all digital platforms:

Amazon: US | Cdn | UK | iBooks

Have you been spending time in Marietta? Who are some of your favourite characters? Remember to email me with your postal address if you'd like a bookmark!

Revisions - Re-envisioning your story

As you've probably guessed, I received some revisions today. I don't complain about them. For one thing, I spent so many years wishing an editor would give me the time of day, I know that it's actually a privilege to receive feedback. I also know my editor is as invested as I am in making my stories as good as they can be so she's not saying what she says to torture me or anything. It's vegetables and cardio, for my own good.

But revisions are a challenge. In this particular WIP, the heroine has just had a baby so I feel like I need to make at least a month go by before the hot and heavy stuff starts between her and the hero. I thought I'd keep them in London and send them to Italy once she's pretty much been cleared to 'resume relations.'

My editor has asked if I can get them to Italy sooner. No, I whimpered mentally. Not because I think it's a bad idea, but because writing is a process of making decisions and if you don't decide and commit, you have a wishy-washy story that wanders around all over the place. So you make a decision and you hold it in your heart and then... revisions.

What if they do go to Italy? In the original draft, I had them going directly to the ancestral estate, but should I move that month they spent in London to his townhouse in Naples? Suddenly a whole new set of decisions has to be made and the story that I had in my head has to be, well, re-envisioned.

Now, on the personal side, my husband is renovating our en suite. We--I'm using the royal we because he's doing all the work--have taken out a shower and are putting in a tub and shower, moving a  wall to do it.  When I told him about these revisions, he said, "You don't have to tell me about the challenges of revision." No sympathy there, apparently. Not that I'm complaining.

Side note: while I was writing this post, he called me in to look at said wall that is being removed and we realized we both had completely different visions of how the other side of that wall would turn out. It backs onto our closet and he thought shelves while I said I thought it would be completely open. We both stood there staring at the same bare studs, trying to see what the other was proposing.

And then he said he'd have to move some studs and put in another one over here... It's all about studs in our house at the moment, as he holds a hammer and wears worn out jeans. But I digress...

The point is, revisions are part of just about any process, I suppose. There is no way that every word that goes onto the page is gold. Goodness knows, there are published stories I want to go back into and tweak. Even as I write this short post, I'm backspacing and changing my mind and clarifying my thoughts.

Most importantly, if you're not willing to look at things from other angles, then go in and do the work to improve, you're going to have to keep climbing into that grotty old shower. No one wants that.

So I'm going to quit using the writing of this post to avoid the hard work of making new decisions. Time to get on with my revisions. Are you re-envisioning anything in your personal story?

Have You Bid On Your Bachelor? - by Dani Collins

Have you seen the Bachelors being auctioned off in Marietta, Montana?

Who would you bid on in real life? Being the author, I should vote for Linc, in The Bachelor's Baby, but I have to admit Kate's Ryan is my fave.

Just like anyone participating in a Bachelor Auction, I wasn't sure what I was getting myself into when I signed up for this series, but it was so much fun to write this novella and work with all these authors--and meet all these bachelors! Even though a few of them showed up very reluctantly. Linc, for instance, but as he was told repeatedly, It's for a good cause.

You see, Kat's heroine, Molly, has a son, Josh, who was injured and is now in a wheelchair. She needs help so Sarah's heroine, Lily, organizes this fabulous fundraiser. My heroine, Meg, ropes Linc in and he's really not happy. Here's a snippet of his reaction when he catches up to her at the hardware store:

~ * ~

Excerpt from The Bachelor's Baby:

“Not funny,” a male voice growled behind her as Meg reached for a small box off a shelf in the hardware store.

Linc’s voice really was a turn on, all heavy and faintly abrasive, yet warm and rounded. Like good scotch, or an heirloom quilt.

He’d still been talking to Lily when Meg had left the grocery store, his neck red, his scowl a firmly fixed mask.

Meg didn’t know Lily that well, but had met her through Andie Bennet, who was made of awesome. She trusted Andie’s judgment, even though Lily was rumored to have been a stripper in another life and had only been in town a few years. Meg hadn’t lived here full-time since leaving for college and took all such gossip with a grain of salt.

Besides, despite Lily’s sometimes acerbic sense of humor, she struck Meg as the biggest heart of gold walking, especially given the fundraiser she was spearheading for Molly Dekker. Molly was another sweetheart—a kindergarten teacher and single mom whose only son had been injured last fall. Meg had genuinely wanted to help once she heard what Lily was trying to do for Molly.

The fact it had allowed her to lob another snowball in Linc’s direction was icing on the cake.

“What do you mean?” Meg asked with an innocent glance at him that actually made her heart skip as she took in his folded arms and planted feet. He was genuinely mad.

She cleared her throat and made herself face him, even though her blood stung a warning through her veins. At the same time, the worst of her girlish hormones fluttered, filling her with nervous excitement and giddy warmth.

“Why did you set that woman on me?” he asked.

“Lily? She asked me about Blake. She was disappointed to hear he’s engaged. She asked if I could think of any other eligible bachelors in town. I said I had just met a perfect one-date wonder.” Blink. Blink. Blink.

These baby blues had pulled Meg from basement cable interviews of small time activists to a relief position with a syndicated station. She wasn’t afraid to use them.

Linc was really tall. And had perfected his glower of intimidation. She privately admitted he worked that like a hot damn, but she’d made a career for herself in what was still a world heavily seeded to men. Outwardly, she didn’t falter.

“Can you tell me if these are self-screwing?” She held up the box in her hand.

His scruffed beard seemed to bristle as his jaw hardened. “Oh, you’ve got a handful of screw yourself,” he assured her.

She swallowed back a laugh, pretty sure that would get her into more trouble than she already stood in. Instead, she turned the box over in her hands. She hadn’t had this much fun in ages. “Maybe one nail would be simpler?”

“Why are you so angry?” he demanded.

“I’m not, I’m really not,” she insisted. “I think it’s funny.”

“You think tricking me into standing on a stage and have women bid on me like a stud bull is funny?”

“I didn’t think you’d agree,” she defended. “It was an impulse to mention you, since you walked right by us and you’re, I assume, single?”

He narrowed his eyes.

Seriously? He didn’t see the humor in this?

“Look, I just...” She couldn’t explain it. Not without getting into how she’d let go of something today. Found herself again. She felt cheerful and sassy. She wanted to flirt. He drew her.

But she’d made him mad.

“Come on,” she cajoled. “It’s not my fault you didn’t say no. It’s a good cause,” she tried.

“You don’t even know me.”

She had to look away. Her cheeks began to sting. She suddenly felt very gauche and juvenile. Rejection was always a tough one for her and all she’d wanted was to keep playing with him. Now he hated her.

“I’m out of practice,” she allowed quietly, genuinely sorry. “Honestly, I didn’t mean anything by it.”

“Practice?” he repeated. “Doing what?”

Seriously? She lifted a gaze that let him see how uncomfortable she was, while scolding him for being obtuse.

He let out a choke of disbelieving laughter. “This is you trying to get a man’s attention? Are you twelve?”

She looked away, frowning, trying to hide that her eyes began to burn along with the back of her throat. Pointing Lily at him had been meant in fun, but it was becoming personal and hurtful. She felt twelve. Hell, she felt seven, realizing for the first time what it really meant to be adopted: that your ‘real’ mom and dad hadn’t wanted you.

“Look—” she started to say, ready to apologize, but only saw his back. He was walking away.

~ * ~

Makes you wonder how The Bachelor's Baby happens, doesn't it? You can find out by clicking your preferred retailer below:

Amazon: US | Canada | UK  | iBooks | Nook | Kobo |

My fourth Montana Born novella, His Blushing Bride, will come out in May. If you'd like to be notified when it does, join my newsletter or visit me here:

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Thanks for visiting!

~ Dani