Friday, April 18, 2014

Precious Consequences


Synopsis
All it took was one night to change the rest of my life.

One night that created irrevocable consequences.

But some consequences aren’t all bad.

They can be amazing…beautiful… Precious.

I willingly accepted those consequences and wrote a new plan for my life. But that plan didn’t include Cameron Argent – the sexy-as-sin tattooed playboy who got under my skin the moment I laid eyes on him. I was headed down a dark and dangerous road where he was concerned and in the end, our relationship was inevitable. Despite our dark secrets, our feelings for each other burned brighter than a thousand stars and left us both naked, vulnerable.

But when my past came rolling back into my life like a Summer storm, I wasn’t sure if his love for me was enough.
Was he prepared to deal with the consequences of a past I couldn’t regret or would he walk away with my beating heart in his hands?


(This is a New Adult Contemporary Romance novel & contains language & adult situations. Not recommended for readers younger than 17)


Chapter #1
~ Hayley ~
“Hayley, sweetheart, you’re going to be late!” my grandmother calls up
the stairs. Of course, I know this, but try explaining the concept of time to a
two year old. Ari wriggles in my grasp, trying to crawl away from me while I
pull a little pink sundress over her head.
“Just a sec, Gama,” I shout back. “Ari’s being difficult.”
I smile down at my daughter’s face and her answering giggle makes my
heart flip. “What’s so funny, monkey pants?” I ask teasingly. “You like giving
me a hard time, don’t you?” Her brown eyes brighten at the sound of my voice
and she giggles again, waving her little fingers in the air. Until five minutes
ago, I was nervous about today, but somehow Ari and her silliness have managed
to ease my anxiety. It’s the first day I’ll be without her since she was born
and as much as I’m dreading it, I know it’s time for me to restart the future I
put on hold when I found out I was pregnant. Most girls my age would’ve given
their baby up for adoption, knowing they’re not ready to be a mother at the
tender age of seventeen. But I’m not one of those girls. Despite the
circumstances surrounding the untimely conception of my daughter, I made the
choice to live with the consequences of my actions and refused to regret a
single moment of my life. Looking at the little face that so closely resembles mine;
I find it impossible to wish that my situation was any different.
“Okay, Princess Ari,” I say, slipping a pair of soft, white shoes onto
Ari’s feet. “Let’s get going before mommy’s late for school.” I stand up,
lifting Ari onto my hip and grab her bag. I make sure she has everything she’ll
need before heading downstairs and into the kitchen.
“There are my beautiful girls,” my grandmother chimes. She smiles at us
and her eyes wrinkle at the sides. If I didn’t know any better I’d think she
was a normal old lady, but underneath that facade is whole lot of batshit
crazy. Not that I mind. My grandmother has been my rock, my best friend and the
only support I’ve had over the last two years. Without her, I have no idea
where Ari and I would be.
“Are you ready for your first day of daycare, Arianna?” my grandmother
coos. She closes the distance between us, reaching for Ari, and I let her go.
“Gama,” Ari squeals delightfully. She mumbles something incoherently and I
stifle a laugh when my grandmother responds as if they’re having a normal
conversation. I leave the kitchen to grab my school bag, stopping in the
hallway when I see a framed picture of my parents hanging on the wall. My
father looks younger, happier, and my mother has the same sour expression on
her face that I got used to seeing. Part of me misses them, but I push those
feelings away quicker than they surface. They have no place in my life,
especially after how I left things when I moved away in my senior year of high
school. I shake my head, as if it will clear the past from my mind, and take my
school bag from the bottom of the stairs. It’s my first day of college but I’m
more nervous about Ari’s first day of daycare.
“Hayley Tanner, if you don’t hurry your ass up, you’re going to be late
for school,” my grandmother chides behind me. Ari slips past her and comes
running down the hallway, jumping straight into my arms.
“Huwwy youw ass up, momma.” she says.
“Arianna, don’t say ‘ass’,” I reply sternly, giving my grandmother a
look. If we’re not careful, Ari repeats everything we say, including the
occasional cuss word my grandmother lets slip when she’s mad.
“Sowwy momma.” Ari ducks her head into my shoulder. I kiss her head of
brown curls and inhale her sweet scent. It’s one of the most comforting things
about this little miracle, the way she smells and the way she fits into my arms
so perfectly. We say goodbye to my grandmother and as soon as I start the quick
drive to Ari’s new daycare center, she starts singing in the backseat. I watch
her in the mirror as her little voice fills the car. Her happiness is
infectious, and when her face lights up with hope and love, it’s easy to forget
how she got here. But I will never forget. It’s a night that changed my life
forever and a night I’m not sure I can bring myself to regret…

~ 2 years ago,
December 2011, Senior year ~
I walk into the palatial mansion and immediately
feel out of place. There are people filling every open area I can see. Some
stand around talking, their blue cups filled with cheap beer, while others
gyrate against each other to the rhythm of the music. I can feel the vibration
of the music in my chest as it travels through the crowd in waves. I shouldn’t
be here, and my mind won’t stop telling me to leave. But I can’t. I push my way
through the mob of hot, sweaty bodies until I’m standing in the living room.
Heads bob up and down as a new, faster song starts to play through the
speakers. Looking around, I notice how the guys in the room eye my body with
appreciation, no doubt after hearing the rumors that have surfaced at school.
The girls on the other hand look at me with disgust, muttering the word ‘slut’
and ‘whore’ under their breaths. They’re half right. But I don’t owe them an
explanation for my lewd behavior. I don’t owe
anyone anything
really; least of all insight into my sad, black hole of a life. I’m about to make
my way back towards the front door, with every intention of leaving, when a
familiar voice stops me.
“You came,” he says
behind me. I turn around and come face-to-face with Kyle Henderson. The
playboy. The football captain. And the boy I’ve been crushing on since I was
twelve. He’s only a year older than I am, but his chiseled jaw, high cheekbones
and light blonde stubble make him look far more mature than any other boy his
age. And I use the term ‘boy’ loosely; referring only to the parts of him that,
in fact, make him a boy. Kyle is a man, albeit a walking cliché with his
perfect blonde hair, Adonis-like physique and roguish charm. He’s also trouble.
And I happen to be in the mood for trouble.
“You asked me to,” I
reply. A strange feeling washes over me, resembling something close to shyness.
It’s unfamiliar. I don’t do shy, least of all with guys. But Kyle makes me feel
it, however unwelcome it is.
“Funny,” he says. “I
didn’t peg you for someone who does what she’s told, Hayls.” His lips curve
into a smirk and it’s easy to see why the girls at school fall over themselves
when they’re in his presence. His confident persona is disarming. I lift my
chin, hoping that he can’t see the cracks in my superficial confidence. “I
don’t.”
Taking a step closer,
he stares into my eyes. “I’m glad you came,” he says. “Can I get you a drink?”
“Anything but beer.”
He chuckles. “Wait
here. I’ll be right back.”
I nod. When he
disappears into the swell of people, I feel eyes burning a hole in the side of
my head. I turn slightly, only to catch Kimber Allen glaring at me. I can’t
help the smile that slips onto my face. I know she was watching my exchange
with Kyle and judging by her expression, she isn’t happy about it. Good. Maybe
now she’ll shut those botox lips of hers and stop spreading rumors about me. Or
just stop spreading the false ones, at least. It’s no secret that she hates me,
or that she has made the most of my self-destructive behavior and used it to
her benefit. But I can’t blame her. I’ve brought all of it on myself,
willingly, in an attempt to ease the numbness that has consumed me and
feel something, even if it’s just physical.
I look away just in
time to see Kyle walking back towards me, drink in hand. My eyes travel the
length of him. His blue polo shirt fits him well and shows off some of his best
assets. Broad shoulders, defined chest, strong arms. The designer jeans he’s
wearing hugs his legs and I’m sure if he had to turn around, it would show off
another one of his ass-ets. I snicker at my inside joke.
“What’s so funny?” he
asks, amused. Realizing he heard me makes me blush, but I manage to keep it
cool. “Your ex-girlfriend.” I reply, taking the blue cup from his grasp. I
bring it up to my lips, tasting the harsh liquid and feeling it burn all the
way down my throat. It’s disgusting. But after the third or fourth cup I won’t
taste it anymore.
Kyle frowns. “I
didn’t even know Kimber was here,” he lies easily. Of course he knows. Kimber
would have made sure of it.
I shrug. Bringing my
cup back to my lips, I watch Kyle over the rim as I take another gulp, and
another, until it’s finished. Kyle’s eyes never leave mine and when he licks
his lips I have to stop myself from mimicking him.
“You want another
one?” he asks, taking our empty cups and placing them on a nearby table.
Instead of answering, I step closer, liquid courage coursing through my veins,
and take his hand.
“Dance with me,” I
say softly. His hand tightens around mine and he leads us onto the makeshift
dance floor in the middle of the giant living room. Eyes fall on us and I
tense. The attention I’m used to getting is usually the kind that takes place
behind closed doors, or in the backseat of a car, not in public. I feel Kyle’s
chest pressed firmly against my back.
“Relax,” he breathes
against my neck. “Let go.”
His hands rest on my
hips and the way his fingertips press into my skin makes me shiver. Our bodies
start moving, our hips bumping and grinding to the beat of the music. I push my
ass into Kyle’s crotch and rub it back and forth over his growing hard on. He
sucks in a breath, and I stifle a moan. This is what I want. I crave the
physical connection like lungs crave air. One song bleeds into another and we
keep dancing until the room gets hot and my skin is damp. Brushing my dark hair
to the side, Kyle lowers his head until his lips brush against my ear.
“Let’s go upstairs,”
he whispers. My head is swimming, from both, the alcohol I’ve had and my need
to get lost in this carnal connection.
“I want you, Hayley,” he breathes into my ear. “I’ve wanted you for so
long.”
I turn around to face
him. His eyes are dark, determined. I’m fairly certain he just said that to get
into my pants but I can’t judge him for that. I’m planning on using him for the
same thing. “Okay,” I say. I ignore the pang in my chest. I always feel that
way
before.
Kyle grabs my hand
and starts pulling me through the mass of people, which seems to have doubled
since I arrived. The clock on the wall reads 11pm but I doubt the party will
abate any time soon. Guys stop to talk to Kyle but he brushes them off, the
same way he does to the girls who throw themselves at him. He leads me up the
marble staircase and only lets my hand go when we reach his bedroom door. He
ushers me into his room, his hand on the small of my back, and closes the door.
With every step he takes towards me I feel the sexual tension intensify. For a
brief second Kyle hesitates, and I can see the indecision in his eyes and on
his face. He seems to recover from whatever conflict he felt a second ago
because he closes the gap between us in one stride. The silence between us
stretches and I think we both know words are not necessary. Talking would only
make it awkward, forcing us to pretend that this is more than a simple
exchange. He only asked me to come to this party for one reason, why make it
something it isn’t? 
He swallows, leaning
down until his soft lips brush against mine. His tongue leaves a blazing trail
on my bottom lip and I open up, welcoming him. Our lips move against each
other, our tongues twisting as we taste each other. I taste the beer on his
breath but the anticipation of feeling with only my body overshadows it. His
hands grab my hips roughly as he pushes me onto his bed. He climbs over me, his
lips crashing into mine again. I claw at his clothes, our hands removing every
piece of fabric, every barrier, until we’re both naked. Like all the times
before this, I push all emotions away, focusing on nothing but the physical.
“Fuck,” Kyle breathes
harshly. “I don’t think I have a condom.”
I think about it for
a minute. I’ve never had sex without one but I’ve often wondered what it felt
like. I’m on the pill, so we should be fine. A voice pops up in my head telling
me what a bad idea this is but I reason with it, arguing that, with graduation
around the corner, this gets to be one last hooray. After tonight, I will get
to start over and pretend that the last year of my life hasn’t been filled with
parties and meaningless sex. I never have to see Kyle or anyone else from this
wretched, soul sucking place ever again. So why not go out with a
bang. Literally.
“It’s okay,” I say.
“We’re good.”
“But I’ve never gone
without one,” he contends.
I look him in the
eye. “Neither have I. But I’m on the pill, so we’re good.”
 He settles between my legs and I feel the tip
of his cock tease my entrance. “Tell me you want this,” Kyle breathes heavily
with gritted teeth. “Tell me you want me to do this to you.”
“Yes,” I breathe. I
bite my lip and close my eyes when I feel him push in. I wrap my legs around
him and he lowers himself onto me. I welcome the weighty feeling, and the
fullness. Kyle doesn’t look at me as he thrusts deeper and deeper. He tucks his
face into my neck and I find that I don’t mind it. This is all I wanted. It
helps me forget about the parents who don’t love me and only use me as a pawn
when they see fit. I can’t even say I’m a trophy daughter anymore, because I
made sure to ruin that image good and proper. Maybe I am a slut, or a whore,
but when it’s nothing but my body connecting with another, everything else
fades away. I’ve managed to replace emotional things like affection and love
with the feeling of sexual and physical gratification. It’s fucked up. But it
works for me.
Kyle quickens his
pace, his hot breath fanning the inside of my neck. His muscles tense and I
know he’s close. Lifting his weight slightly, I take the chance to slip my hand
between our bodies and start rubbing my clit. The quicker Kyle moves his hips,
the quicker my hand moves, and it’s not long before we both moan our release. 
“Fuck, Hayley,” Kyle
sighs, rolling off me and catching his breath. “I wasn’t expecting it to be
so…”
“Good?” I finish for
him. “What? You didn’t ask your buddies how it is before you invited me here?”
I sit up quickly and grab the nearest item of clothing to cover myself up.
His brows furrow.
“No, Hayls. Do you think that’s why I invited you? So that I could just have
sex with you?”
“Yes.” I reply
honestly. Kyle looks away from me and I know I’ve caught him.
“Look, Hayley, I -” I
put my hand up, interrupting him mid-sentence.
“Don’t, Kyle. I know
the drill. I used you just as much as you used me and now it’s over.”
I jump off the bed
and start gathering my clothes. Kyle doesn’t move from the bed while I dress,
but when I look up again he’s standing in front of me, wearing only his jeans.
“Hayley, wait.” he
pleads. His expression is one of guilt. But guilt over what exactly? Having sex
with me or admitting that it’s all he wanted me for?
I see another emotion
flit across his features but it’s gone before I can determine what it is. Our
eyes meet for the last time and I do something I’ve never done with anyone else
before. I touch his cheek. And then his lips. “Goodbye, Kyle.” I whisper. I’m
not sure why I say it, or why I touch his face that way, but for the first time
ever I feel something else, something new.
Regret. 
Horns break through the memory and I jump in my seat. The traffic light
in front of me is green but I was too distracted to notice. I ease forward into
the traffic, ignoring the swearwords being thrown in my direction by other
drivers.  I check my rearview mirror
again, to make sure Ari is okay, and find her staring out the window, still
singing her song. I’m silently grateful that the only reminder I have of her
father is her brown eyes and that her dark curls and fair skin come from me.
Not that it would’ve mattered. The day she was born I knew I would love her
forever, regardless of who she looks like.
I stop in the small parking lot outside the daycare center and take a
deep breath to steel my nerves. I
don’t want Ari to see how terrified I am. I want her to see that I’m brave,
even if that’s the last thing I feel. I climb out and open Ari’s door. She
looks up at me and smiles, all her new teeth on full display. “You ready to
make some new friends, monkey?” I ask her while unbuckling her car seat.
Her eyes widen, filling with excitement and curiosity. “Yes mommy!
You’re a monkey!” she squeals, giggling.
I let out a little laugh. “Oh, really? If I’m a monkey, then what are
you?”
Her little eyebrows scrunch before she answers. “I’m a princess,” she
proclaims. I take her bag from the back seat and pull her onto my hip.
“Yes,” I reply softly, placing a kiss on her forehead. “You’re my
little princess.”

Buy Links



About the Author

I'm 21 years old & the ultimate Book Brat :) Coffee & Books are my drugs of choice, neither of which will be kicked to the curb any time soon! I go through a book a day & when I'm not reading I'm working on my debut novel, Beneath Your Beautiful :)I'm a sucker for New Adult Contemporary Romance with a whole lot of sexy thrown in & my number one rule is I won't read a book unless it has a happy ending! I also have the unhealthiest obsession with the South,and I don't mean my home country of South Africa - I mean cowboys, pick up trucks, sexy as sin Southern accents, cowboy boots and barefoot bluejean nights! One day, I will live in Alabama & I will have my own Indie publishing house - my philosophy is if your dreams don't scare you they're not big enough :)

website

Goodreads 
https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/6965463.Tamsyn_Bester

Facebook Page
https://www.facebook.com/pages/Tamsyn-Bester/635202666493424

twitter username
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Thursday, April 17, 2014

The Good Girl review


I know, this post looks a lot like yesterday's post, but I've got a review in here for you today~





**Please note: this book is rated MA for Adult Situations and the occasional curse word 




When Willow Stone discovers that she is in competition with the exotic and worldly Molina for the coveted position of sex advice columnist, she realizes it's time to up her game. Though she has impeccable writing skills, there's no denying that a lifetime of being the good girl has left her ill prepared for this position. Realizing it's her lack of experience that will keep her from achieving this dream, she decides to proposition the bad boy who once lived in her college dorm that always had a stream of women doing the walk of shame from his room on a nearly nightly basis. Surely someone that shallow, that experienced, and that wildly attractive could teach her a thing or twenty. 


Only Wyatt has his own plans, and they don't allow much time for teaching Willow what she would already know if she could just break free of the cool, calculating, proper demeanor that was part of being a Stone. His reputation has served him well through the years and being the black sheep of his family has never bothered him. What does bother him, however, is Willow. She is a mystery to unravel, a present to be cherished, a young woman who just might rock his world by bringing him back into his family's fold. She was everything they wanted for him and precisely what he had avoided since he started dating. 

What will happen when the good girl gets mixed up with the bad boy?



My Review:

Okay, I've said it on here before, Young Adult Romance is not my thing.  I read it, and sometimes I like it, but I don't like to be reminded of my own inadequacies as a Young Adult and the fact that the most designer pair of shoes I owned were Doc Martins, and I have an unreasonable fear of flying which kept my trips to Europe at a minimum (read: zero).

With that said, I LOVED The Good Girl.  The way to hook me with YA is a quirky premise, and this one had it.  A Top Fifty Sexual Bucket List?  Count me in.

The dialogue was good, characters well-developed, and the conflicts were realistically developed.  Wyatt was a total dish (I love bartenders who drive motorcycles), and I could totally relate to Willow's lack of experience with pleasurable sex at that age.  This is a well-written story that flows smoothly, and kept me wanting more.

*spoiler alert*  The things that I didn't find awesome were all toward the end...I felt like the ending wasn't developed enough, especially the stuff with Jacqueline, and her acquiescence with Willow.  This seemed a little choppy to me, but the jet-setting at the end, while predictable, was well-done.  I also felt like the conflict with Molina was resolved too easily/fast.

Other than those few things, this was a book I could not put down.  I read it in one afternoon/evening, and it was a much needed break from my real life, which is the purpose of reading romance.















What made her decide to be an erotica author?

Simple.

How else was she going to parlay her two favorite past times into a career?

Emma is single and loving it. Like her first character, Alysin, Sin for short, she doesn't believe in settling or in settling down. She loves to indulge in her passions whenever the mood strikes and enjoys keeping all of life's cliche moments spicy.

Known for her sense of humor, Emma surrounds herself with friends whose antics often become the source of book fodder. Her ideal situation would be to explore the Caribbean while writing. She pursues that dream daily.



Enter the Contest

Anyone can offer a giveaway.  Emma…is making you work for it.

10 Winners will received signed copies of The Good Girl

but first…

You've read the book.  You're familiar with the list.

Now share a story of one of your sexcapades from

The Sexual Bucket List.

send your entry to:

emmanicholserotica@gmail.com

Subject: The List Contest


Winners will be notified by email.

Contest is open until May 30, 2014



Wednesday, April 16, 2014

Now The Good Girl, For Real.


Okay, today's actually the day I'm supposed to post this, so ...*drum rolls* And I'm sooo gonna enter the contest at the end.




**Please note: this book is rated MA for Adult Situations and the occasional curse word 





When Willow Stone discovers that she is in competition with the exotic and worldly Molina for the coveted position of sex advice columnist, she realizes it's time to up her game. Though she has impeccable writing skills, there's no denying that a lifetime of being the good girl has left her ill prepared for this position. Realizing it's her lack of experience that will keep her from achieving this dream, she decides to proposition the bad boy who once lived in her college dorm that always had a stream of women doing the walk of shame from his room on a nearly nightly basis. Surely someone that shallow, that experienced, and that wildly attractive could teach her a thing or twenty. 

Only Wyatt has his own plans, and they don't allow much time for teaching Willow what she would already know if she could just break free of the cool, calculating, proper demeanor that was part of being a Stone. His reputation has served him well through the years and being the black sheep of his family has never bothered him. What does bother him, however, is Willow. She is a mystery to unravel, a present to be cherished, a young woman who just might rock his world by bringing him back into his family's fold. She was everything they wanted for him and precisely what he had avoided since he started dating. 

What will happen when the good girl gets mixed up with the bad boy?










The Good Girl Playlist






What made her decide to be an erotica author?

Simple.

How else was she going to parlay her two favorite past times into a career?

Emma is single and loving it. Like her first character, Alysin, Sin for short, she doesn't believe in settling or in settling down. She loves to indulge in her passions whenever the mood strikes and enjoys keeping all of life's cliche moments spicy.

Known for her sense of humor, Emma surrounds herself with friends whose antics often become the source of book fodder. Her ideal situation would be to explore the Caribbean while writing. She pursues that dream daily.



Enter the Contest

Anyone can offer a giveaway.  Emma…is making you work for it.

10 Winners will received signed copies of The Good Girl

but first…

You've read the book.  You're familiar with the list.

Now share a story of one of your sexcapades from

The Sexual Bucket List.

send your entry to:


Subject: The List Contest


Winners will be notified by email.

Contest is open until May 30, 2014


Tuesday, April 15, 2014

The Duke's Shotgun Wedding by Stacy Reid - Review

I accidentally did the wrong post this morning, so if you're hooked on The Good Girl blitz, come back tomorrow, when I was supposed to post it.  In the meanwhile, enjoy this review of The Duke's Shotgun Wedding, an amazing book I had the pleasure of reading.  Ain't the cover purdy?  I want this dress, btw.


Victorian Era England…
As far as rash decisions go, it was formidable. But Lady Jocelyn Rathbourne’s will remains strong. If the only way to save her family’s estate and reputation is by aiming a small pistol at the Duke of Calydon, then so be it. For Lady Jocelyn demands satisfaction – and she will have it at any cost. Even if it means demanding the hand of the intense and foreboding Duke himself…
But she’s made the first move against a very dangerous opponent…
For Sebastian Thornton is no stripling to be trifled with. The lady has played her hand. Now it’s his turn. For Sebastian is in need of a wife. And to find a wife with spirit and fire – even if she means to only marry for his money – would be a great prize indeed. And he intends to thoroughly take his pleasure with her… and demands his own satisfaction in return.



My Review

There were aspects of this book that I really enjoyed.  The writing was amazing, the conflict was put forth in a realistic manner, the characters had you rooting for them the entire time, and the settings were perfect.  Secondary characters were well-drawn, although a little more of them wouldn't have hurt the story at all.  The chemistry was perfect and the love scenes were just the right heat level for me for a story like this.  They got my blood racing, but weren't so over the top to have me blushing.  I fell in love with the Duke, but as far as Jocelyn went, I had mixed feelings.  I never could tell if she was intentionally lying to him in the beginning or not, and the ending was rather abrupt, but other than that, it was a fabulous read.  I would recommend this book to anyone who likes Victorian-era historicals with some heat.




Stacy is an avid reader of novels with a deep passion for writing. She especially loves romance and adores writing about people falling in love. Stacy lives a lot in the worlds she creates and actively speaks to her characters (out loud). She has a warrior way, never give up on her dreams. When Stacy is not writing, she spends a copious amount of time drooling over Rick Grimes from Walking Dead, watching Japanese anime and playing video games with her love, Dusean Nelson.



 
 
 

Monday, April 14, 2014

Pass the Baton Blog Hop

When I was in Junior High, I was on the track team.  I was the worst runner on the team, although I didn't totally suck at the jumping events.  Every relay I was on, I was the weak leg.  I never actually dropped the baton, but my leg of the run was where we lost ground.  Every time.  I'm afraid this is another one of those moments...

This baton was passed to me by Linda Nightingale, a wonderful writer friend of mine.  We shared a table at the Houston Author Bash, and will be sharing another one at the Sinners and Saints Houston Book Bash in August (I'm sure I got the name of that wrong...).  She writes paranormal romance, and I love her.  Her website is HERE.



What am I working on?

Currently, I'm in the middle of three works in progress, but the one up for most of my attention is Wrecked, the next Story of Serendipity.  This will be Renae's story, Dalton's sister, from Dream On.  She's just got her daughter off to college, and realizes she doesn't know how to enjoy time alone.  When she meets Jason (crashes into him, actually) she has a disastrous one night stand, and the rest is...a work in progress. :)

How does your writing differ from others in this genre?

My writing is about real people in their thirties and forties, dealing with real problems.  For example, Renae's main conflict is she's just got one nearly adult daughter off to college, and realizes she's pregnant, at thirty-nine, by a relative stranger.  Jason is dealing with dementia with his elderly father.  These are real problems that people struggle with, not whether or not to get into a BDSM relationship with the boss, a billionaire CEO (not that I don't read and LOVE those books).  But I struggle to write books people can relate to on a personal level.

Why do I write what I write?

I write what I like to read.  Period.  I realized I kept wishing someone would write a story about real people, not jet-setting twenty somethings who wore Jimmy Choos (I still can't afford Jimmy Choos, and certainly couldn't in my twenties).  So I decided to write what I wanted to read.

How does my writing process work?

I think about characters and story forever.  Like months to years.  Then I outline it, and think about them some more.  Then I get the bare bones of the story down in a rough draft.  Then a couple of months later, I start revising it.  I will revise several times before I send it out to beta readers and finally, I hit the button.  I have various works in all stages, because while one is marinating for a month or two, I'm working on a different phase of another book.  Currently, I have Codex in a rough outline form, Falling for Faith in the process of a rough draft form, Saving Charlie in rough draft, and Wrecked in the final revision stages.


I am passing the baton to Samantha Holt.  I told you I was the weak link in the relay, I was supposed to have three, but I couldn't get three other author/bloggers to agree to do this.  Everyone is so busy!  So here's Samantha's deets:





Samantha lives in a small village in England with her gorgeous twin girls and husband who is a trained bodyguard and ex-soldier. She traditionally writes historical romances involving chivalrous knights and hot highlanders, but occasionally dabbles in contemporary romance. 




Keep checking back for this next book of hers, I think I'm scheduled to review it soon...



Blurb: 

Scotland, 1230 

Sent on a rescue mission, Finn Mac Chaluim is prepared to do his duty, hand over the lass and return home. 

But fate has other ideas. 

In the midst of a Norse invasion, Catriona barely escapes with her life. Masquerading as her sister, she finds herself in the hands of Finn who intends to hand her over to her sister’s betrothed, Laird Gillean. In the interests of bringing peace to her home, Catriona is determined to continue the ruse—even if it means going along with the marriage and denying her growing attraction to a man who keeps his hurts hidden behind a quick grin. 

If the green faery, Tèile, has anything to do with it, Catriona and Finn will come together—but only at the right time. Thanks to her last attempt at matchmaking, many paths were changed and now it’s up to her to put it right. Can she help Finn— who learned the hard way that sharing your life with someone only leads to heartache—get past his doubts? And will the battle-scarred Catriona even accept him into her heart? When Laird Gillean’s attentions toward Catriona become dangerous, both Finn and Tèile will find they have an uphill battle on their hands.