Surviving Reviews

For an author, reviews are a double-edged sword. A favorable review can boost sales as well as a writer’s spirits. A negative review is hard on the ego and on the bottom line. We writers are a sensitive bunch. One nasty comment, even in a mostly positive review, can really sting. When Mrs. Giggles wrote, about Raw Silk: “The first half of the story is awkward, with the characters often reciting corny and cheesy lines that have me cringing.”, I was nearly in tears. It’s true that she continued: “It is those naughty scenes that keep me interested in the story. However, by the latter half of the story things have picked up tremendously.” The damage was done. It didn’t matter that she is famous for her snarky, overly-critical reviews – we all want everyone to love our work.

At the same time, I find myself a bit annoyed by the superficial quality of some romance reviews. I am grateful, of course, that anyone is willing to read and comment on my books. With hundreds of romance titles released each month, getting a reviewer’s attention can be tough. However, many of the reviews that I see are little more than a rehash of the blurb along with some general summary praise.

Obviously, I’m happy to have even that. Sometimes, though, I wonder whether the reviewer has actually read the book. As a reader, I expect reviewers to focus on what is special about a book, what makes the book worth reading – or not. I’d rather receive a review that mixes positive and negative commentary (though mostly positive of course!) than a vague blanket endorsement.

Boy, I’m hard to please, aren’t I?

I may think about the question of reviews more than most people, because I am a staff reviewer for two major erotica sites, the Erotica Readers and Writers Association (ERWA) and Erotica Revealed. Every month I tackle two to four books, some of which may be the work of friends and colleagues. My reviews are generally longer and more detailed than the typical romance review. They also tend to be more critical, though I earnestly attempt to avoid snarkiness.

When I review a book, I try to take a reader’s perspective. The main purpose of a review, in my opinion, is to let readers decide whether or not they want to buy a particular book. My objective is to convey the essential characteristics of the book – its genre, initial scenario, main characters – without retelling the story or giving away the plot. I also work to articulate the book’s best qualities while pointing out any serious weakness.

I’m very aware that different readers look for different things. Sometimes I’ll review a book that doesn’t really “grab” me, but which I believe will appeal to readers with other perspectives. It may be impossible to be truly objective, but I do make an effort to identify my personal reactions, my fondest fantasies and pet peeves, and admit that they influence my evaluations.

As I mentioned above, I often review work by authors that I know, literary friends (though usually we haven’t met in the flesh). This can be extremely tricky. I know how we all yearn for rave reviews. If I can’t honestly point out more pluses than minuses, I normally won’t review a book.

Even so, I worry that I will offend friends and colleagues, or induce the pain that I know comes from a less than stellar review. So far I believe that I’ve managed to avoid alienating anyone.

I do hope that the authors whom I review can live with some negative commentary in return for more in-depth exploration of their work and its merits. I typically spend about half a day planning and writing each review. I know from personal experience how important it is that I get it right.

Speaking of reviews, the February issue of the ERWA site includes the first review of Necessary Madness that I've seen. Go to www.erotica-readers.com and click on the “Smutters Lounge” link. I’m hoping for more reviews soon. Meanwhile, I’ll just have to be content reading over what reviewers have said about my TEB titles Raw Silk (“There was an innate exoticism in every encounter that was so intense, so erotic, it turned me inside out! I would honestly give this story six ribbons, if it were possible.” - Romance Junkies) and Incognito (“Lisabet Sarai’s writing style is in depth and emotionally stirring with a surface of deeply erotic love scenes.” - Fallen Angels Reviews).

What can I say? We’re all sluts for praise.

ANNOUNCEMENT: Nedma1, please contact me at lisabet [at] lisabetsarai.com! You're my randomly chosen fantasy birthday party winner!

Welcome to My Birthday Party!

Today is my fifty seventh birthday. In real life, I'm off for the weekend with my DH, enjoying a bit of relaxation by the sea, a modest little getaway. However, what I'd really like to do is throw a huge party for all my friends and celebrate in style.

What's my idea of the perfect party? Well, it should involve costumes—I love getting dressed up!—and dancing. Delicious food and drink are a must, of course, and I usually like to have a theme, ideally something a bit spicy. When I was younger, I organized a number of memorable bashes including a Jet Set Party (to celebrate our leaving for a job in Asia), a Hotel California Party (which lasted all night, starting with pink champagne on ice and ending at dawn with Tequila Sunrises), and of course the Coed Stag Party my husband and I threw the night before our wedding, with naughty party favors and belly dancing.

There's one party I never had the chance to organize, though. In the next town over from where we used to live, there is a historic movie theater called the Academy of Music. It was originally built as a live theater back in the Victorian era and has been beautifully preserved. With its burgundy velvet curtains, carved and gilded balconies and crystal chandeliers, it evokes a earlier time of grace and elegance. The Edward Hopper painting above captures the feeling very well.

I've always fantasized about renting the place for a party—a cinema costume ball. I'd invite my friends from all over the world (in my fantasy world, I have plenty of money to pay for their transportation). Each guest would be required to come dressed either as a favorite actor/actress or as a movie character. We'd serve champagne chilled in silver ice buckets and smoked salmon canapés. I'd put a band on the stage, playing my favorite classic rock. I'd dance with every guy at the party—it's my birthday, after all!

The guests' costumes would be magnificent. There'd be Errol Flynn and Sherlock Holmes, Scarlett O'Hara and Dorothy of Oz, King Kong and Faye Wray, Jack Sparrow and Yoda. As for me, I'd come dressed as classic screen siren Mae West. I think I could pull it off. I've got the right build for it—far more curvy than is fashionable these days. I even have a sparkling pink lamé gown with a plunging neckline that used to be my mother's. All I'd need is a platinum wig and the attitude.

I wanted to do this for my fiftieth birthday, but that was in the middle of the last recession and it just wasn't feasible. (Probably wouldn't have been anyway...!) So—being an author who spins fantasies—I've decided to go ahead and do it this year...at least in the cybersphere. And you're all invited!

I'm giving away a “door prize”, a print copy of my first novel Raw Silk. All you have to do is comment and tell me about your costume. If you came to my masque du cinema, who would you be, and why?

I'll randomly pick one commenter as my winner. But I hope that you all have a fabulous time!

How to Write Like a Maniac

(Or: Genre Hopping for the Faint of Heart)

By Regina Riley (Guest Blogger)

There are no two ways about it; writing is an immersive experience. When you take up a storyline, you take a plunge neck deep into a new place, a new era, maybe even a new world. You tread those literary waters-- sometimes swimming, sometimes drowning-- until you finally come up for air, soaked to the bone by the perception of that story’s unique cosmos. This full immersion is what allows a writer to think like the characters, to speak like them, to be like them. Full focus is a good thing. If we as writers didn’t submerge ourselves into our worlds, our stories would end up sounding more like a news report describing said events instead of the personal account of characters that were there when it all went down.

But the real question is how do you shake off the waters of one world before jumping into the ocean of the next? How do you switch gears from writing erotic horror to steampunk adventure, from sweet romance to dark fiction without losing your mind?

Some folks cringe at the idea of genre hopping. To them it’s a dangerous game played by maniacs and mad men, with nothing to be gained from spreading one’s self so thin. Others are just outright afraid of the idea, concerned that all of this leaping about will leave the reader to think that perhaps the writer doesn’t know enough about any single genre to settle down and write it well.

To both of these fears I say "poppycock"! You read that right. I just said poppycock.

As a reader, I find myself switching from genre to genre just as easily as I change my underwear. (Granted I have a lot less in the way of selection of panties than I do in books, but you get the idea.) So when it came time for me to take up the pen I found I had the opposite problem with genres that most people have. I wanted to write in so many different ways I had trouble focusing. I wanted to write everything from horror to humor to steampunk to erotica to fantasy to science fiction. I read it all and wanted to write it all!

So, I did.

At first it was hard, bouncing around like a rubber ball from genre to genre. I lacked focus. I lacked discipline. I still have a bevy of half-finished stories lurking on my hard drive that were abandoned when submission calls from another genre lured me away from that world. It took a good year or so for me to work out how to juggle so many different genres without losing my voice, or the finish line, in the process.

I’ve had some ask me in the past how I can write a full novel in one world, while at the same time crank out a short story in a completely different genre. For example, I finished the first in an erotic steampunk series, “Clockworks and Corsets,” while simultaneously penning an erotic zombie book, “The Blooming,” for a different company. (Other than the super sexiness of the material, they are two different genres, one lighthearted action-adventure, the other very dark horror.) I even spent several weeks in concurrent edits with the books, and by coincidence they are premiering on the web the exact same month, all without skipping a beat, thank you very much!

You too can cross into any genre if you are just willing to take that tentative first step to the shore, toe the water and see if it’s the new ocean you’re looking for.

How, you may ask? Well, let me tell you…

Be Confident

The first step to approaching a new genre is to be brave. After all, what is there to be afraid of? Maybe it’s a genre you used to write in but quit because you felt you were no good at it, or one you have been longing to get your feet wet with but worried you couldn’t capture the feel of it.

The only way to know is to just get out there and write it.

I worried for weeks before starting my steampunk series whether or not I was good enough to capture the appropriate kind of Victorian voice that makes for good steampunkery. In short, I worried someone would be able to tell I didn’t know what I was doing. (Not that I actually did know, but you see where this is going.) Then, after reading yet another steampunk novel, it dawned on me that I knew just as much as that author did about the genre. Perhaps more. At least enough to start out. So, I set my mind to an outline, which became a beginning chapter. The beginning turned into a middle, and before I knew it I had an end. All of which was steampunk at its finest.

You also need to realize that not everything you write in different genre is going to be great. In fact, you might find that no matter how hard you try you don’t have the knack for a particular genre. In this case don’t take it as a personal failure, just admit your faults and keep on keeping on. My weakest genre is hardcore science fiction. I love to read scifi, but for some reason or another I just don’t write it very well. It doesn’t stop me from trying. I view every attempt at it as a step up, and know that one day I will produce something in the genre I can be proud to share.

Be Prepared

Nothing is worse that reading a book and knowing for a fact that the author knows nothing about the subject matter. As a reader you can tell when the author is winging it, so why try to do the same to your readers?

For example, steampunk is fairly new to the romance scene. As a result I had that on my side when working on my piece. I could have just as easily faked my way through the novella, because I knew so many of the readers were unfamiliar with the territory. How would they know the difference between an airship and a sea bound ship? I could just throw out a few buzzwords like ‘clockworks’ and ‘spinning props’ and let their minds fill in the gaps.

But in my heart I knew I would never be satisfied with that. Not to mention this was a great opportunity to draw new fans to the world of steampunk literature, a genre I am very passionate about sharing with others. (I am a crazy woman when it comes to steampunk!) The point is, if I planned on doing this thing, I knew I had to do it right.

Research your genre well before you take up a story. Watch movies, listen to related music, and most importantly read, read, read books by great authors of the field. Don’t be afraid to be influenced. The greatest compliment I ever received was to be told one of my novels sounded like my favorite author had a hand in it.

Be Adaptable

Some folks look at genres like a compartmental meal. Nothing is allowed to touch, or they just can’t consume it. Like eating cornbread that’s been soaking in pinto beans. (Actually, come to think of it, that sounds pretty good!)

Writing is along the same cornbreadish lines. It’s okay to allow the borders to meld at little. To me, and a lot of other readers, genres are more fun when they mix. Humorous horror has become a favorite of mine lately, to both read and write, and I have been considering writing some steampunk horror just for fun.

Richard Brautigan, one of my favorite authors, was known for his deliberate genre mixing. He delved into such unique ideas such as the gothic western and the perverse mystery. He conquered these genres with pure literary genius, blending them in ways that leaves the reader breathless as to where one ends and the other begins.

When you set out to write in your new chosen genre, do so with the knowledge that it’s okay to let a little of one leak into the other. In fact, use your strong background in your existing genre to help ease yourself into the next.

With these three weapons in your writing arsenal you can confidently approach any genre you like. Perhaps it’s time to set aside paranormal fantasy and tackle that serial killer story that has been lurking around in your mind, huh? Just remember to be confident, be prepared and be adaptable.

I wish you luck with your genre hopping adventures.

By the way, I will be giving away a free copy of my book Flirting with Death to one lucky commenter. So tell me what you think about multiple genre authors!

Coming in March from Lyrical Press

About Regina: Aside from her wicked imagination, Regina believes that her life is pretty pedestrian. She resides in North Carolina, although her roots spread a bit deeper thanks to a military upbringing. She is an identical twin, and has been happily married for thirteen years to a wonderful and giving husband. She also shares her home with a brood of moody cats. As a crocheting fanatic, she can just as likely be found wrist deep in a skein of yarn as opposed to hip deep in writing her next tale.

Website: http://www.thebackseatwriter.com

Reader email: regina [at] thebackseatwriter.com

Getting Intimate with Victoria Blisse.

Hello everyone!

The sequel to Getting Physical is now available. Getting Intimate is the next chapter in John and Terri’s relationship. They met at a gym and fell in love despite each other’s hang ups about their sizes. In Getting Intimate they get to know each other better and find out more about why they feel so insecure about their looks.

Here’s a little snippet from the story to illustrate.

I felt Terri’s hand rubbing up and down my arm, soothingly, but I still couldn’t look at her. I was struggling to hold in the tears and if I looked at her I knew the sympathy in her eyes would make me sob like a child.

“Uni wasn’t much better. I became a real loner and kept to myself. I spent a lot of time in the gym there, trying to work up some muscle, trying desperately to bulk up. As you can see, it didn’t work. I’ve been at gym after gym since then, trying my hardest. I decided that keeping a low profile, being the loner was my best course of action. I took that into my job with me. It meant I didn’t attract the nasty comments any more, but I didn’t attract the ladies either. I went on three dates and they were all disasters. Every time the girl ended up hurt, physically on one occasion. I ended up embarrassed, upset and alone. So, you know, I’ve never seen myself as much. Just a sad, skinny loner.”

“Nonsense.” Terri kissed my cheek and I turned my head to look at her. “Sweetheart, you’re not skinny. Look at yourself.” She stroked a hand down from my shoulder to my wrist. “These are muscles. You’ve got them all over.” Her hand caressed my chest, slipped over my hip and squeezed my thigh. My breath caught in my throat. “Okay, you’re not Rambo, thank God, but you're lithe and lean. No one in their right mind would call you skinny. You are gorgeous. You’re way out of my league.”

I shook my head and rolled onto my side.

“No way, you’re well out of my league. You’re beautiful.”

She laughed before she replied. “Listen to us both. Jeez, we hate ourselves but love each other. Maybe we should just decide to believe in how the other sees us. It can’t do any harm. I’ll try and believe I am beautiful like you think, if you try to believe you’re as gorgeous as I know you are. We can give it a go, can’t we?”

“Sure, it can’t possibly do any harm to at least give it a go.” “Maybe it’ll even do us some good...”

Despite Terri's reassurances, though, she feels just as insecure as John about her own size and appearance.

I could not believe it had been six months or so that I’d been putting myself through the gym torture. Granted, I felt better for it. I was more flexible and filled with energy but I was not seeing my curves fall away in any significant manner. And of course, the curves that were going were the ones I wanted to keep! My bra had gone down a size and my hips seemed to have shrunk, but no amount of concentration seemed to make my podge of a belly disappear.

I persevered though, mostly because of John and partly because of mum. She had bought me the stupid gym pass in the first place and I’ve always been told it’s rude not to accept a present graciously.

It wasn’t so bad. At least the gym held good memories for me and with John around I always had someone to talk to while working my bum off. I could look at him lustfully, too and then take him home to have my wicked way with. Although he was perfectly capable of having his wicked way too, come to think of it. He might have been a virgin when we first met, something I still found unbelievable, but he soon got the hang of things. And oh, he was imaginative. He kept me satisfied but paradoxically that only made me want him more. I wanted to find out all the ways we could orgasm together.

I was lost in lurid fantasy as I pushed the door of the gym open. The usual mix of sweat and antiperspirant products mixed with hot plastic and rubber greeted me as I walked in. That was not what surprised me. What did surprise me was seeing my John talking to the stick insect.

It was a gym. The place was filled with lean, mean, perfectly-formed female bodies but there was one I disliked more than all the others put together. I’d discovered from the simpering of her friends and her personal trainer’s barked instructions that her name was Sam. But in my mind she remained the stick insect. She was as thin as a rail and beautiful with it. She had bright, natural blonde hair and sparkling eyes, and although I beat her hands down in the cleavage department hers were pert and always peeped out the top of whatever sports ensemble she was wearing. Men would literally drool down them when talking to her.

Jealous? Me? Well okay, maybe I was just a little bit. She was everything I wasn’t. She was effortlessly gorgeous and instantly charming. Most of the men in the gym wanted to fuck her and half of the women too, but up until that moment I was sure that my John barely even realised she existed. He loved big women, real women. He adored my curves and he told me that at every possible moment. He begged me never to lose them and I told him I couldn’t if I tried. And boy, was I trying.

But at that moment my world shattered. I couldn’t hear what was being said over the noise of the packed gym but her eyes were full of lust and he was pointedly not looking at her. Why on earth would you not meet the gaze of a person, unless you were trying to hide something or you were feeling guilty about something? I saw exactly what a moment later, when she covered my John’s strong hand with her own thin, little dainty one and squeezed. He looked up at her then and smiled. She walked away.

I was stunned. My John had been captured by the stick insect.

Getting Intimate is a real story about real people--not the perfectly beautiful folks that you will find in some romance.

So now you know my story a little more intimately here are a few intimate facts about Victoria Blisse!

* I like to have my neck kissed but keep away from my ears.

* The toilet paper has to go over the top of the roll, f it does not I will change it, even if I am in someone else’s house.

* I am a morning person and do all my best work between 5 and 7am.

* My favourite late night snack is hot buttered toast.

* Most of the year I sleep in the nude, except in the middle of winter where I wear pyjamas, a jumper and a hat to sleep in.

Care to share an intimate fact about you with me? I’m terribly nosey. I think most of us authors are. I like to know the inner workings of everyone I meet!

Getting Intimate is now available from Phaze Books. Click here to buy!

Fire in the Blood: A Sneak Peak

Hello! Yes, I'm still here. With all my guests this week, I realize you might be a bit confused. Tomorrow Victoria Blisse will be dropping by to promote Getting Intimate, and then Saturday I have Regina Riley with a great post about switching between genres. For today, I wanted to give you a sneak peak at my upcoming vampire release, Fire in the Blood.

This story was originally intended for Halloween last year, but got bumped due to some editorial mishaps. My editor asked me to make it longer so it could be released as a stand-alone title, which was great because this gave me the opportunity to work on the ménage aspect and deepen the characterization.

I don't have a release date yet, but here's a blurb and an unedited excerpt.

Blurb

Maddy and Troy hope that a sunny, carefree vacation in tropical Jamaica will re-ignite the passion in their five year relationship. On a scenic mountain trail ride, Maddy's horse bolts and carries her deep into the jungle. Injured and lost, she is saved by a seductive giant of a man whose mere presence kindles unbearable lust. By the time she understands his dark nature, it is far too late for her to escape.

Bitter and alone, Etienne de Rémorcy haunts the forest around the ruined plantation of Fin d'Espoir. He has sworn to never again taste taste human blood, but when slender, raven-haired Madeleine begs him to take her, he cannot resist.

Troy is hugely relieved when Maddy makes her way back to their hotel after her ordeal in the mountains. But he finds her greatly changed—fiercely passionate in bed, restless and disturbed at other times. The tall, elegant stranger he meets on the beach holds the key to her transformation—and soon has seduced Troy as well. Even Etienne's most potent magic can't extinguish the fire in Troy's and Madeleine's blood.

Excerpt (rated R)

His entry was swift and silent. She didn’t even know he was behind her until she noticed his fire-cast shadow on the bed. “You may wear this.” He handed her a brilliant garment of multi-coloured silk. “It belonged to my mistress.” The dressing gown was soft as a cloud, so delicate that Maddy feared it would tear at her slightest touching.

“God, it’s exquisite.” The jewel-toned robe shimmered with a twining pattern of blossoms and peacocks. “But I can’t wear this. I’ll destroy it. It looks like an antique.”

“Put it on.” Power rang in his voice. There was no way that she could disobey. She slipped the gown over her shoulders and belted it around her waist. The silk caressed her breasts and belly like secret hands. Her pussy dampened again. “Sit down now, and I will bind your ankle.”

She seated herself on the bed. The giant perched on a wooden stool and drew her foot into his lap. Maddy struggled to hold still. Every time he brushed his fingers over her flesh, electric thrills sizzled up to strike between her legs. She wanted him to push to slithery silk up her thighs, to spread them so wide that it hurt, then dive down to feast on her juicy sex. Surely he must smell her. He must hear her heart, so loud in own ears that she could no longer hear the crackling fire. However, he appeared to be completely occupied with his nursing duties. He wrapped her foot and ankle in layer after layer of taut muslin, a reasonable substitute for an ace bandage, then secured his efforts with several safety pins.

She couldn’t stand it any more. She laid her palm on the kinky nap covering his head. He raised his eyes. In their depths she saw wisdom and pain. “I’m Madeleine,” she said. “What’s your name?”

“Etienne.” He settled back on the stool. “Etienne de Rémorcy.”

“I want to thank you, Etienne. For all your help.” Casually, with one hand, she loosened the sash holding the robe closed. She leaned forward, so that the silk gapped open and revealed her gleaming white breasts.

“I could hardly do otherwise. My mistress taught me how to be a gentleman. You obviously needed my assistance.” His rich voice sounded strained.

“Oh, I did.” Maddy shifted on the bed. The dressing gown slipped off one shoulder. “I still do.” The peacocks slithered away, exposing her pale thigh and her wound, crusted with dried blood.

Etienne’s eyes glittered. His blunt hands shot out and grabbed her wrists. “Do not play with me, girl.” Lust gushed through Maddy’s body. Etienne’s nostrils twitched. He tightened his grip until she cried out. “Do not tempt me.”

“You’re hurting me,” she whimpered. “Please…” Dimly she understood that she was not begging to be released.

“Believe me, I will hurt you far more if we continue.” Etienne forced her down on the bed, her captured arms above her, and straddled her with his massive thighs. “Although I was taught to be a gentleman, in truth I am a savage beast.” The fragile silk tore away from her nakedness.

“Don’t you want me?” Maddy’s eyes swam with tears.

He brought his mouth close to her ear. “You could not possibly understand how much.” His breath was the icy exhalation of a glacier.

She shivered under his weight. His coolness only stoked the fire in her pussy. “Then take me.”

He freed her wrists and sat back on his heels, searching her face. She cupped her ripe breasts and offered them to him. Please, she prayed silently, let him see my need. She opened herself to him, letting those luminous eyes probe her deepest desires.

He licked his full lips, and his white teeth gleamed in the fire light. He reached for his belt. “Let it be as you will, then,” he growled. “I am no longer responsible.”

Men in Uniform

By April Dawn (Guest Blogger)

I have two novels being released soon that deal with military men. Bound by Love (Jan 29) is a historical romance about Darion, one of the Son's of Liberty, and Chloe, the woman who gets drawn by her love for him into a world far darker than she ever expected. Crushing Desire (Feb 12) is the story of an ex-military man who is in denial of his attraction for Reena. She has tried to get over him, but now that he has agreed to pose as her husband, she might not have to. Since both of my new releases have something to do with soldiers, I thought I would explore why we love men in uniform so much.

There are the obvious reasons, like they are handsome in the uniform, but let's look a little deeper and see what we find. Some of us have had personal experience with men in uniform that drove us wild.

"I am… partial to men in uniform. I married my husband when he was in the Army. When he got out of the Army, he became a state trooper." - Debby

"I am partial to men in uniform after my days as an EMT. I met so many great and brave men, young and old, risking their lives as firefighters, EMTs, paramedics, and police officers… I also knew so many who sacrificed to protect our freedom. Courage is very sexy." - Melinda

Melinda has something there. We give men in uniform attributes that are very attractive. Courage, pride, honor, daring, protective. All these words have been used to describe men in uniform.

"The uniform itself says a lot. He's an honorable man, gives his life to save others, and does it because that's who he is. There something so daring and sexy about that." - Yvonne Nicolas

"We know it's not always the case, but the ideal, the fantasy invoked, is one of a man of courage and honor, a modern version of the Knight in Shining, protector of the weak, defender of the realm. Doesn't hurt that there are all those lovely, shiny buttons to undo as well..." - Angel Martinez

"He's a hero in more ways than one, Usually puts others lives before his own. And he wears a white shirt! lol. (Sorry have a thing about white shirts)" - Clare Revell

This is true, and for some the uniform itself is a big deal., this weeks winner of A History of Romance's giveaway of The Soldier's Return , by Ava Delany was R Tianna, and I like the way she described her love of a man in uniform.

"I love men in uniform because it’s like a classy piece of chocolate. Buttoned down, custom fitted in a nice package. Muscles girth weight and height hidden beneath the veneer of a uniform silver and gold emphasized on blue or white. You get excited wanting to peel off the exterior to get a taste of what’s hidden underneath and take a lick or bite or both." - R Tianna

I want to thank Lisabet for having me on the blog, and to thank all the people who told me why they love a man in uniform. Also I want to take this opportunity to let all my readers know that the people in Haiti need our help, and will continue to need our help for some time to come. To that end, I intend to donate all my earnings from my novels date Jan 29 – Mar 1 to benefit Haiti. I am also holding a virtual signing for both of my releases. For more information, check out my website.

APRIL DAWN is: Mother of an 18 month old, heroine to my hero, Californian, author, book lover, traveler, letterboxer, movie and music lover, morning person, quirky, funny(or so I've been told).

Sisters Team Up To Pen Romance Novels – In Two-Part Harmony

By K.M. Daughters (Guest Authors)

“Why don’t we write a book together?” Kathie asked Pat, as we took another turn around the huge, hotel parking lot.

“Do you think we could?” Pat responded.

“Why not?”

Our early morning walk continued, and our banter centered on fleshing out the plot for a title Kathie had conceived, Reunion For The First Time.

A couple days, and who know how many parking lot circuits later, we returned to our hotel room (RWA National Conference, Reno, Nevada), and scribbled a plot outline on “conference packet note paper”. Once done, we enjoyed our, “Eureka,” moment.

Taught (coerced by Mom’s decree) to share through childhood, as each other’s only siblings, we equitably jotted a “P” or a “K” on alternating chapters. We went home (Pat, in the Chicago area, and Kathie, in northern New Jersey), sat down at each respective computer, and wrote our first novel.

The recipe for team writing, now, six published novels, came that simply to us. We’ve always been extremely close friends and confidantes who, while living apart our entire adult lives, have taken letter writing exchanges to high art. And, boy, can we blab when we’re together. On a social level, before we endeavored to write together, we never ran out of conversation topics. Plots and novel premises bloom from that capacity, and our brand of sisterhood.

Do we fight? Nope. Disagree? Yes, of course, but it honestly doesn’t feel like it. K.M. Daughters is neither one, nor the other, of us. Her voice is all that matters in project creation, more a choral harmony, than a solo. When we disagree, we’re just helping her partners to stay in tune.

Blurb for Capturing Karma, by K.M. Daughters

Veterinarian Matty Connors’ visions lead her to homicide detective Brian Sullivan once again despite her resolve to remain anonymous the past four years. Her official work with the police in California resulted in the brutal murder of her fiancé, and since, a recurrent nightmare she barely survives. Brian, the reputed ladies man of the Sullivan family, has yet to give his heart to a woman until Matty lays claim to it. His black-and-white approach to solving crimes doesn’t jibe with Matty’s spooky pronouncements or her reputation for alleged infallibility. A wild goose chase searching for a murder weapon casts doubt on Matty’s “truths” and threatens their smoldering romance. Is Brian her nightmare slayer and ultimate truth? When the puzzle pieces fall in place for Brian, will it be too late to save Matty?

Excerpt

“Hi, Brian,” she responded, tamping down the temptation to hug him hello. “How’s the new baby doing?”

“Great, thanks. How’s that bump on your head?”

Matilda touched an edge of one of the butterfly strips over her eyebrow. “Turning every color of the rainbow, but it’s fine.”

He swiveled his head toward the throaty bark of the wolfhound in the corner of the room, then scanned the other occupants in the lounge: primate, feline, porcine, wolfish and human. “Steve told me you’re a great vet. Looks like you’re pretty swamped here.”

“Shamus and I split the patient load,” she said.

“And Shamus is?”

“My brother. He came for me at the hospital yesterday?”

Brian’s eyes bored into her, a sexy smile twitched the corner of his lips. “Good.”

“And ‘good’ means?”

“The big guy isn’t competition. That’s good.”

“Ah. So we’re clear. What competition would that be?”

The sexy smile twitched again. “For but a smile from sweet Matty,” he lilted in an Irish brogue.

Squelching an impulse to grin, she molded her face serious and parroted a brogue, “Ah but woe to the knave who plies smiles with an untrue heart.”

She grinned now. “What can I do for you, Brian? Did you get an estimate to repair your car?”

“It’s about that letter you brought me. It’s related to a case. We need your help.”

Of course. “I gave you the letter. You know as much as I do.” Her heart hammered, nothing to do with the pulse acceleration from earlier flirtation. I can’t go further with this case. No matter what, I have to stay anonymous.

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Capturing Karma from Wild Rose Press.

Also available at Barnes and Noble and Amazon

Rated Four Stars by RT Book Review!