RR@H Novel Thoughts & Book Talk

Melanie Jackson Guest Blogging

Mad — Wed, 14 May 2008 11:00:17 +0000

Black Cats and Magic Shoes

How very fun that I should have the chance to talk about two of my favorite things! Though, my own precious cat would like me to tell everyone that I actually love white cats more than black ones. Since she is perched here in my lap ‘helping’ me type, I had best mention this straight away. That said, I have a tremendous fondness for the black cat, Atherton, whose heroic crime-solving prowess catches a murderer in A Curious Affair (out June 1st– barring acts of God or war). I met Atherton at the animal shelter where my husband and I volunteer, and one day while I was taking a rest from being dragged over the mountain by the hounds of the Baskervilles, Atherton came and sat in my lap and told me the most amazing story. It eventually turned into A Curious Affair, a mystery about a widow who is hit by lightning one Halloween and there ever after hears cats talking to her. Mainly she ignores them and goes on about her life, but one night Atherton appeared in her window and this cat had a terrifying tale to tell. The old hermit who fed the strays had been murdered and Atherton is the only witness. The to-die-for handsome sheriff is inclined to dismiss the case as an accident, but Atherton and Miz March set out to prove him wrong. You can read an excerpt or access Atherton’s myspace page from www.melaniejackson.com. There is also a link at the bottom of the page to the Humane Society of Tuolumne County if you are in the area and looking to adopt a four-legged family member. They’ll have the book for sale there and every penny of the sales goes to help the animals at the shelter.

And that just leaves us with magical shoes…. Shoes are special. Shoes are art. They protect us, make us tall, make us comfortable, and sometimes ever sexy. In other words, shoes are magic. But Faith Fleetwood has discovered that some shoes are more magical than others. She has just opened a pair from www.hiheelia.com that let her dance on the ceiling with Fred Astaire. Since hiheelia is an actual website, everyone who wants some magical shoes can shop there. You can read a excerpt from And They Danced from the These Boots Were Made For Strutting anthology at www.melaniejackson.com. I hope you’ll visit. It’s always lovely to hear from readers.

Wishing you affectionate felines and many magical shoes,

Melanie Jackson

http://www.melaniejackson.com

***Don’t forget to leave a comment! One reader will receive a copy of THESE BOOTS WERE MADE FOR STRUTTING.

Happy Mother’s Day!

Mad — Mon, 12 May 2008 02:45:34 +0000

Lauren Dane Book Winner

Mad — Mon, 12 May 2008 02:33:16 +0000

We have a winner!

The winner of Lauren’s post is…………………

April S!

Congrats April!

Please email me at mad @ romancereaderatheart.com (without the spaces) with your snail mail addy. Enjoy!

Gemma Halliday Book Winner

Mad — Mon, 12 May 2008 02:31:43 +0000

So sorry I didn’t do this last week! Have been very busy the last few days with my Mom. She’s here visiting until next week and my computer time has been non-existent while she is here.

Anyway, on to the winner!

The winner of Gemma’s post is…………………

Christy H!

Congrats Christy!

Please email me at mad @ romancereaderatheart.com (without the spaces) with your snail mail addy. Enjoy!

Lauren Dane Guest Blogging

Mad — Wed, 07 May 2008 11:00:20 +0000

So back in August of 2006, my husband and I went on our first vacation without kids since we actually had kids. We went to Las Vegas, one of my favorite places in the world and we ate in restaurants without paper tablecloths and crayons and had pretty drinks at three thirty in the afternoon by the pool.

We also went to a burlesque club called Forty Deuce. Now, I have a thing about pin up girls and the whole glamour age of feminine beauty. I love the pictures of women from the 40’s and 50’s and burlesque embodies that era so very well. Burlesque isn’t stripping, it’s not about showing as much skin as possible. Rather it’s about the art of the tease, of sensual smoke and mirrors where it’s about what you don’t see more than what you do.

There’s dancing on stage and a live jazz band. The women are truly amazing dancers, lithe, sexy, they clearly put a lot of time and energy into their routines as well.

Anyway, as we made our way back home after our vacation it was with an idea for a story in my head with the heroine as a burlesque dancer. Dahlia Baker was born in my head and by the time my agent contacted me a few days after I’d been back to ask if I’d be interested in participating in a pitch she was going to make for a Vegas themed anthology, I just knew it was meant to be. Stripped isn’t about stripping, it’s about being stripped of preconceptions - by the way.

Stripped and the anthology, What Happens in Vegas is now out on store shelves and available through all the usual places for online book shopping too.

Here’s a very small taste of Dahlia’s world:

WHAT HAPPENS IN VEGAS: STRIPPED BY LAUREN DANE
Copyright 2008, Lauren Dane
All Rights Reserved, Harlequin Enterprises

The low, sensual beat brought her onto the stage like a siren. One gloved arm wove through the slit in the curtain and then the other, parting them as she stood, framed for a long moment. Her dark hair was piled up on her head artfully. Long, fake lashes framed big brown eyes. A deep blue satin dress hugged every curve lovingly, her breasts pushed up and out of the scooped neckline and as she walked, the slit on each side of the dress would show her legs to the upper thigh.

She let the music grab her senses and her rhythm as she slowly sauntered out onto the narrow stage. Dancer’s heels, still very high, led her through the beginning of her routine as she carefully maneuvered the long feather boa to keep from tripping.

Caught in the music, Dahlia’s muscles burned as she did a high kick leading into a round kick swiveling her body away from the audience all in a seamless set of movements.

A feather from the boa stuck to the sweat on her neck as she slowly rotated her hips in time with the horns in the jazz band. Her hands rose, slowly taking the boa to wind around her body. Down it went until she finally stepped out of it as it lay at her feet, kicking it to the side.

Giving her back to the audience, she raised one hand into the air as she turned her head, winking over her shoulder.

Knocking her hips from side to side to the smoky jazz beat, she brought the tips of her gloved fingers to her mouth to grab the material and pull it off slowly.

The first glove went over her shoulder, into the bar pit the stage encircled. The second glove came off as she stood in front of the trumpet player and pulled it off around his body.

A bump and grind circling the band and she lay down on the side of the stage near where the bottle service tables were. Throwing a foot into the air, she gave them all a lot of leg to look at as the dress slid back. Rolling up onto her knees, she unzipped the front of the dress and shimmied out of it. Then she turned, cleverly giving them her back and a pair of boyshort bottoms with a winking kitty on the ass.

The dress dropped as her forearms came up to cover her breasts and she bent, looking at them all upside down through the vee of her legs.

The cheers and applause bolstered her confidence. Up there she was beautiful and desired and that was okay. More than okay, it felt marvelous.

Still facing the band she reached out quickly, grabbing the hat off Timmy’s head. The trumpet player widened his eyes in a choreographed move and she spun, clutching the prop hat just so to cover herself.

Sensual smoke and mirrors. Dahlia didn’t show the audience any more than she’d show at the beach. They wouldn’t see her nipples and her panties would stay right on her booty with the fishnets below that.

Playing coy, she waved with one hand, pretending to almost drop the hat as she took the first step back up to the dressing room. And another step and two more. Once her body was in the doorway she turned and tossed the hat back to Timmy. With a hand over her mouth stifling a pretend giggle, she kicked up her leg and was gone behind the curtain.

***Don’t forget to leave a comment! One reader will win either a gift certificate to Amazon or Samhain. Winner’s choice.

Gemma Halliday Guest Blogging

Mad — Mon, 05 May 2008 11:00:13 +0000

When I told one of my good friends the title of my latest novella, “So I Dated an Axe Murderer”, the first thing she asked was, “Oh, is it based one of your own bad dates?” Um, gee, thanks. No, it’s not. But, I couldn’t really blame her. This year my New Year’s resolution was to find Mr. Right, and to that end, I’ve been on a dating mission ever since. Unfortunately, I’ve discovered I have a severe lack of luck (to put it mildly) in the dating department. I know, every single gal thinks she has crappy dating luck. But, mine goes way beyond that cute guy from the club not calling you back. I swear it’s not my fault. I go out into the world of men with the best of intentions. I have a list of all the things I’m looking for (confident, responsible, kind to children and small furry animals) and all the things I’m not (in a 12 step program, has ring shaped tan line on left finger, lives in a dwelling with the word “mobile” in it). Still, I somehow tend to attract the more interesting of the species.

There was Hairy, who was, well, let’s face it, a walking wookie. The hot tall, dark, and handsome guy who made my heart go pitter patter… until he committed a felony while out on a date with me. (I hate it when I’m called as a material witness.) There was Married And Dating Man, Homeless Guy, the Pirate (seriously, he was actually a board-your-ship-and-take-your-booty pirate), Heavy Metal Dude, and, last but not least, Ultimate Fighter Guy who had a body in his closet. Yep, you heard me right, a real body. I show up at his place for dinner, and he’s nowhere to be found. But a body falls out of his closet. I’m pretty sure that whoever the guy was he was just passed out drunk (and not DOA) but considering Ultimate Fighter Guy beats people up for a living, it was freaky enough to have me running for my life.

So, while “So I Dated an Axe Murderer” isn’t actually based on personal experience, I have to say I can totally empathize with my heroine, Kya. When she has suspicions that her new boyfriend may not be all he seems, I know exactly what she’s going through. Kya’s entire world turns upside down when a pair of hot stilettos prompts her to step out of her boring life as a geeky web designer and into the role of a jet-setting supermodel – complete with glamorous photo shoots, top agents, and a sexy hard-bodied boyfriend. But when a murder from the past resurfaces, Kya begins to wonder if her new life is all it’s cracked up to be.

You can read more about it Kya’s adventures in the modeling world in “So I Dated an Axe Murderer” in the THESE BOOTS WERE MADE FOR STRUTTING anthology. And if you want to read more about my adventures in the dating world, feel free to pop over to the Killer Fiction blog (http://killerfictionwriters.blogspot.com/) where I post my latest and greatest every Friday. And in the meantime, if any of you know a cute, single guy who digs writer chicks, feel free to pass on my number!

Gemma Halliday

http://www.gemmahalliday.com

http://killerfictionwriters.blogspot.com/

***Don’t forget to leave a comment. One reader will win a copy of THESE BOOTS WERE MADE FOR STRUTTING!

Peter Clenott Book Winner!

Mad — Sat, 03 May 2008 21:31:49 +0000

We have a winner! The winner of Peter’s post is…….

Teresa!

Congrats Teresa!

Please email me at mad @ romancereaderatheart.com (without the spaces) with your snail mail addy. Enjoy!

Deb Salonen Book Winners!

Mad — Fri, 02 May 2008 01:54:10 +0000

We have winners! The little Diva helped pick out names before she went off to bed.

The winners of a book from Deb’s backlist are…..

Stefanie D

Maureen

JenniferY

Fedora

Azteclady

Nathalie

Congrats ladies!!

Please email me at mad @ romancereaderatheart.com (without the spaces) with your choice of book from Deb’s backlist and snail mail addy. Enjoy!

And just so you have a face to put to the little Diva’s name, here’s a picture of my little one. Isn’t she adorable? *G*

Peter Clenott Guest Blogging

Mad — Thu, 01 May 2008 11:00:51 +0000

On the eve of the American invasion of Saddam Hussein’s Iraq, an international cast of schemers, spies, clergy, and scientists race to claim the greatest prize the world has ever seen. American archaeologist Molly O’Dwyer has unearthed a long-lost burial mound in ancient Babylon. Whose remains are in it? Are they related to the mysterious Gospel of Hannaniah, the alleged daughter of Jesus of Nazareth? Will the revelation of her shocking findings destroy the church and the faith of billions? This tale of intrigue, betrayal, and ruthless ambition set against the treacherous background of the Middle East on the brink of war, piles on the suspense until the final gripping scenes.

What to Write?

Surely this is a question that has gone through most unpublished writers’ minds when they are in pursuit of an agent or a publisher. Do I write a mystery? Should I throw down the gauntlet at Stephen King and write a horror tale? How about science fiction or the next Harry Potter?

People in the know advise to look at what’s on the best seller lists, what’s hot, what’s in. The problem for me has always been that, by the time I tried to write what was hot or in, the subject was no longer hot or in. I’m still on Shakespeare while the rest of the world has gone googoo over Diablo What’s-her-name. I figured, as well, every other budding author is doing the same thing I am. Looking at Dean Koontz’s success of John Grisham’s and trying to follow down their golden paths. But you can’t. Because everyone else is going down that same well-worn path. How do you separate yourself from the crowd? How do you make yourself stand out so that an agent or publisher will choose you over the multitude? Not without a great deal of difficulty, obviously.

Other people suggest, “Write what you know.” Well, okay. Except, what I knew bored me. Why do I want to write about things in my life? That’s why I write. To get away from those things.

Having dispenses with that thoughtful bit of advice, I chose to go my own way. Write whatever interests me at the moment. No matter what. If it’s not best-seller material, so what? If I’m talented enough, surely some agent or publisher will recognize my genius and scoop me up in a chariot filled with royalty checks.

So, here’s what I wrote about:

PAN DORA ISLAND: Chimps in the wild taught how to use sign language by a madman. When the madman commits suicide, the chimpanzees are left to evolve with this newfound skill of communicating with words.

LIGEIA: A studious slave teams up with her favorite author, Edgar Allan Poe, to uncover the killer of president Zachary Taylor.

GOSPEL OF HANNANIAH: The ‘autobiography’ of Jesus’ illegitimate daughter.

PRETTY IN PINSK: Two CIA operatives start a dating service in post Cold War Russia.

You get the idea. Eclectic. Don’t pin me down to any genre. Distinctive. And this was only the tip of the creative iceberg.

Where did it get me? Back to looking up what was on the best seller list.

Ultimately, I drew this conclusion: you have to write what gives you joy, no matter what the consequences. You have to love the characters you give life to and the worlds they inhabit. Because you can’t count on success ever happening. Writing has to give you pleasure. You have to long to be in the places where your writing takes you. If it’s not good enough for publishing houses or agencies, so be it. I don’t think youi can write a good publishable novel if you are not enjoying the experience. Many published authors who write series or stay within a particular genre run out of juice. And their novels, while published, even successful, are no longer particularly good.

I went back to the drawing board, which in the old days was a lined notebook and a portable typewriter. In the early 1990s I read an article in the Boston Globe in which a prelate of the catholic Church stated he had the right and power to deny congregants access to God if they belonged to organizations he disapproved of. In other words, he was going to deny members of the Church access to the sacraments, the rites and rituals of the Church, if they were pro-choice. That was when I decided to write TRACES OF A LIFE, the precursor to my debut novel, HUNTING THE KING.

TRACES concerns archaeologist Molly O’Dwyer, who is a passionate seeker of knowledge but who remains a loyal observant Catholic. Her mother had been a pagan when Molly was a child. Molly was practically raised on the campus of the Jesuit institution where her mother had taught anthropology. Her conflict throughout TRACES and HUNTING is that of an intelligent being who questions her organized religion when it comes into conflict with her own morality. In TRACES, Molly is assigned to a dig on a Boston harbor island and there, coincidentally, begins to uncover the truth about her own past and what her mother was doing in defiance of the Church and common law. In short, I decided to write a mystery with an important moral spine. I wanted to challenge the Church and the arrogant position of those who felt that they could deny people God because they had a degree in theology and a position of political power within the Church.

At the time, by coincidence or luck, I had an agent. This particular agent was a New York agent, as opposed to my New Jersey agent, my Arkansas agent, and my California agent. So, I was excited for the first time in many years that my novel TRACES might actually be sold.

Wrong. My agent quit. She was so frustrated by the publishing business that she decided she wasn’t going to represent fiction anymore.

So, there I was bereft and alone again naturally. I returned, in my frustration, to the best seller list. DA VINCI CODE happened to be the hot thing of the moment, so I took my lovely red-headed archaeologist Molly O’Dwyer and sent her on an expedition into war torn Iraq in search of the remains of Jesus. I figured, surely this can’t miss.

Well, sure and begorrah, it did. For two years, during which time I wrote two more novels, all the while sending out that all too familiar deluge of letters to agents around the globe. I wrote an anti-war novel aimed at Bush/Cheney, THEY WERE CALLED TO DUTY, and a sure-to-reach-Oprah novel called ALBERTVILLE.

Letters went out. Letters went unanswered. Same old story. No one wanted anything I wrote, no matter what genre I wrote in. Finally, luck stepped in like the swaggering pimp in a Blaxpoitation flick. I found Kunati Books on a web site called FirstWriter. Sick and tired of agents, cynical about the book business in the US, I searched for a publisher or agent in Canada that might be more amenable to what I was trying to do. I hit on Kunati. They were looking for cutting-edge fiction, page-turners that had the feel of a Hollywood film to them. I knew right away what I was going to send to them. Molly O’Dwyer in Iraq. This happened in late March 2007. In August Kunati’s publisher, Derek Armstrong, contacted me by email and offered me a contract. I had been writing for 34 years.

So, what to write? My experience may be unusual. At least, I hope it is. Maybe I did things wrong, I don’t know. I still say you have to write what is in you top write. Not what you know, but what matters to you. If I hadn’t stumbled on Kunati Books, I would still be floundering to this day. I’m convinced of it. But if HUNTING THE KING doesn’t do well and Kunati doesn’t offer me a contract for a second novel, I will persevere. I always have. And I will continue to write what matters to me.

Next up: COMRADE LOLITA. Via con dios.

****Make sure to leave a comment! One reader will receive a copy of HUNTING THE KING.

The Rock Creek Six Book Winner!

Mad — Thu, 01 May 2008 00:20:58 +0000

We have another winner!

The winner of The Rock Creek Six series by Linda Devlin & Lori Handeland is………………

KristieJ!!

Congrats Kristie!

I’ll be mailing out the books to you soon! Thanks for entering my little contest.