All Good Things Come to Those Who Wait

So I subbed my rejected book yesterday to another publisher and got a fast response. An R & R—revise and resubmit for those new to the term—with the golden words telling me what was wrong with the book. Man, I was so glad to get that email. As I said yesterday, it’s hard for us to see our own mistakes, and I just COULD NOT SEE where that book had gone wrong, although I knew something was off. That’s frustrating, isn’t it? Being in that situation? It’s like: Look, Book, there’s something up with you, and I can’t fix it because I just can’t work out what the deal is.

Well, now I do, thanks to a fabulous editor who, in one sentence, gave me a lightbulb moment. Then, after I replied with my thanks, she followed up on an easy fix—much easier than the difficult overhaul my mind came up with. I tell you, I’ve never understood authors who don’t like outside input on their books. Sometimes I take the harder route on revisions, and if I was stubborn and said, “No, this is MY baby, not yours!” I’d be putting myself through a shitload of extra work next year when I come to revise the book. The editor’s suggestion was so easy, so obvious—damn my blinkers!—that I’ll have the book fixed in no time.

It doesn’t even matter if, when I resubmit, it gets a rejection, because I’d have had the chance to grow and learn some more—something I love about this profession—so the work I’ll be putting in will be well worth my time and effort. But I’m left frustrated at myself because of my failure to SEE. Yes, we get close to our books, I know that, but for God’s SAKE! Why can I see things in other people’s manuscripts yet at times, with mine, I can’t? It bugs the hell out of me.

Still, with valuable people like that editor on the planet, we authors can’t go wrong so long as we take their advice in the spirit it was meant—to help us.

I’m so pleased my book may not end up in a forgotten file. I’ll get Christmas out of the way, hopefully finish my vampire book, and then dig in with revising the story I thought would never see the light of day.

Ah, happy days!

On another subject, but related… Today I received a contract that was a surprise to me because it was electronic. I’ve never had one of those before, and it’s just too cool for words. You get to either have a standard “handwritten” font when you click to sign, or you can sign it yourself using the mouse. It’s so immature of me, but I was well excited by this contract. It’s too groovy, and I hope I’m lucky enough to get more contracts from this publisher just so I can sign my name with my mouse! HA HA!

Yes, I think I need to get out more…

On another fabulous note—man, things are just happening for me at the moment, WOOT!—I have been asked if I would like to create cover art for Total E-Bound. What a lovely thing to be asked. Of course, I can’t say no to that! What more could I ask for? I get to write and also indulge in my other love—Photoshop.

And, you know, sometimes there is someone or something looking out for us. The other day I needed just 50p to put toward my boys’ dinner money. I had the cash in the bank, but I didn’t want to draw out a tenner just for that 50p, because you know how it is, that tenner would have just disappeared once it got into my grubby little hands. I didn’t want to use the remaining £9.50 that would, to be honest, have just been whittled away on stuff like sweets for the kids or a bottle or two of Coke, when it was supposed to be paying some bill or other. And guess what? As I walked along, I’m buggered if there wasn’t a shiny silver 50p on the ground. Usually it’s pennies, or if you’re lucky, a whole 2p (LOL), but that day it was 50p. I wondered, as I am wont to do, about fate and all that jazz, and how things work out in the end if you just have faith, and at the moment I’m inclined to believe that’s true. Okay, there have been times in the past where I’d swear that was bullshit, and I’m sure there will be times in the future I think that too, but d’you know, life is just effing great for me right now, and although part of me thinks “About time too!” (long story…you don’t wanna know!) I am truly grateful for this sudden turn of events.

I’m grateful, humbled, blessed and just so pleased that the “good stuff” is going on.

I hope all good things come to you guys too. That all your dreams and needs are met. That if things have been poo, they pick up 100%. We all deserve some goodness from time to time, eh?

Have a great day, folks!

The Dreaded R

Rejection. Does it bother you? I can’t say I’m particularly fussed by it one way or another. I received what some may say is the dreaded R this morning and submitted it elsewhere right away. What one publisher doesn’t want, another might. Then, if it’s rejected again, it’s time to have an objective look at the book and try to figure out why it was rejected. Not all publishers have time to give feedback as to why they didn’t want your book—understandable when there are only so many hours in the day, and then if the publisher/editor gives a reason, it opens up the floodgates for an email discussion that the publisher/editor doesn’t have time for, and then the possibility of, “Oh, whyyyyyyyyy? Can you just look at my book again? He did this because of this, and she acted this way because, because, because...” Been there as an editor myself, and it can be hard to extricate yourself from this type of interaction. But, on the author side of the fence, we can be left in a quandary as to what needs changing in the rejected book. As we all know, it’s not always easy to see our own mistakes, and it isn’t until an editor points them out and we slap our foreheads that we see the glaring errors.

Still, if at first I don’t succeed...and if at second I don’t succeed...and if on the third try I don’t succeed... But on the fourth time out, that book isn’t going anywhere but my files, where I’ll let a good length of time go by before I look at it again. Of course, it may well just be utter shite and no amount of revising will help, but hey, that’s the way of things sometimes.

On another note, the big freeze that was due to arrive yesterday…didn’t. Of course it didn’t. I suspect the weatherman’s prediction will come true days after he said it would, but if I hadn’t gone food shopping yesterday, you can bet your ass it would have snowed overnight so I couldn’t get into town today. Such is life!

This morning I spent a little time creating some cover art, and now I think I need to get back to a WIP and write a fight scene I’ve been putting off. It might not be as bad as I’m thinking it will be. A new day brings new perspective and all that.

Well, that’s all from me today, loves. Hope you have a great one yourself!

Think Kink

I’ve said before on Four Strong Women: I don’t like change. It takes me a while of thinking about something before I actually do it. I stay with the same publishers because it’s comfortable, and every so often—maybe once a year haha—I venture “out there” and sub elsewhere. On Saturday, after speaking with Tess MacKall, who had great things to say about Total E-Bound, I subbed my 10K tale, Think Kink. I think I got the fastest acceptance I’ve ever had from a new publisher—2 days. Yesterday I got a contract offer. Sue Swift said some lovely complimentary things about the tale, and I sat thinking: Is she talking about MY book? Funny. I’ll never get used to this business. Every sub to a new place has my belly in knots.

Ever since receiving that email, I’ve had that icky feeling I get when I’m venturing into something or someplace I’ve never been before. I joined the groups there and have that “new girl” feeling, where you wonder how the other authors will take you, whether you’ll “fit”. So far I’ve had some lovely welcomes, so I’m happy, even if still a bit nervous.

Think Kink is a ménage. I had no plans to write one, but Tess and Regina Carlysle goaded me into trying. I must say I enjoyed writing it—whether it was because it was new territory for me, something different from my usual, I don’t know, but it came together pretty fast and I didn’t stall once. I may possibly write another—the characters are left where I could make a series out of them. Not sure. I don’t want to commit in case my effort was a one off.

So, I’m also waiting on a response from another publisher I’ve had my eye on for a long time, but I’m expecting a rejection. The lady there who reads the subs is, from what I’ve gleaned, very hard to please. *bites nails* She knows what she wants and what’s right for the market. If I get a contract offer there, I think I’ll throw up. Nice. But I still have a few weeks left of waiting time for that one—14 weeks from sub to hearing from them.

Well, that’s my latest news. Whatever you’re doing today, have a good one!

An E Reader...At Last

Gem Sivad's Five Card Stud on my funky e-reader. Buy this book. You won't regret it, trust me! (Ellora's Cave... BUY HERE! GO! NOW!)

For around 4 long years I’ve wanted an e-reader, and yesterday I finally got one. When they first came out, I wasn’t prepared to pay the price they were—not when I could buy a brand new computer for the same money. So I waited. And waited. Until the price went right down as I knew they would. I mean, think back to the price of a DVD player then compared to now.

I chose the Sony pocket reader. Five-inch screen and a groovy pink, a veritable beaut of hand-held goodness. The first book I loaded on there was Gem Sivad’s Five Card Stud…and I haven’t looked back. First, the book is bloody excellent so far, and second, the screen appears just like a book page. The only downside is it doesn’t have a backlight—something I discovered once I got it home—but considering the price, I’m not complaining.

So, I’m a happy camper now. Reading e-books on the computer or laptop didn’t really do it for me. It was too much like looking at a manuscript and reminded me of my editing days, so I tended to switch into editor mode instead of reader mode. Now I’m just a reader, and I can’t say enough how wicked this e-reader is. It even makes little bookmarks as though I’d turned down the page corner myself, and you can make typed notes or handwritten ones with the stylus. There’s a dictionary too. Can’t you just tell I love it?

The saying is true. All good things come to those who wait!

Writing...At Last!

Sometimes I like taking time off from writing. It gets to the point where I sit here procrastinating rather than continuing my tales. Time wasting. Internet browsing. However, there’s also the opposite, when I’m busy with other things and can’t write, and I get the need to creeping up on me, characters from books starting to chatter: Oi, have you forgotten about me? I’ve been left stuck in a tree for a month. My arms are aching! OR: Hey, you left me in a delicate position. I must be the only man on the planet to have maintained a state of excitement for two weeks!

Yeah, yeah, I heard the whispers, and now they’re up to “normal” voice volume. Thankfully, today I can write and stop them getting to the shouting stage. The shouting stage isn’t nice, because by that time I’m so frustrated I can’t write due to other jobs that need doing first, that I become a total grouch. Depressed, angry, everything annoys me, etc. I’ve finished a few projects I had on the go and, despite having two more things on my to-do list, I’m taking the weekend to write.

I’ve had Jaime Samms’ chapters of our latest novel sitting in my to-do email folder for a little while now. It’s been waving every time I go in there to check what needs doing next. Asking me to open it. Go on, just peek. For a minute… But I knew if I peeked, I’d write and forget about the to-do list.

Last night I peeked. And yep, I’ve forgotten about the to-do list. Jaime has taken the book in a very cool direction that ties in very nicely with my previous chapters. I can’t help it, can’t resist. I’m diving in to write about my heroine’s situation and my bad guy’s dilemma, bringing all the characters together for Jaime to deal with when I send it back. (Mwhahahaha!)

This book is called The Dreaming and should reach about 80+K by the time we’re done. A veritable m/m delight that delivers two cop lovers, a ballsy heroine, and a mixed-up killer. Oh, and also a mixed-up female who came along a little while back, plus a whole realm of people who aren't of this world… It’s a thriller, drama, paranormal, horror, romance…a good old mixture of genres that blend very well.

I love it. So now I’m going to get on with it!

Can we shout hooray? Yeah? HOORAY!

Have a great weekend!

Paranormal Activity Review

So, after hearing the hype about Paranormal Activity 2, we watched the first one last night. I’ll admit to being bored for the first half, found it a bit overdone with the “we’re showing you how much we make this look just like a home movie” angle. Yeah, much like looking at other people’s holiday snaps. Really boring. I “got” the idea in the first ten minutes. No need to bash me over the head with the tedious showing of their life prior to catching the demon on tape.

Once the first night of catching footage began, the boredom lifted a little, but I still had the urge to wander outside for a cigarette or bugger off into the kitchen to make a cup of tea, maybe even a massive chicken roast dinner while I was at it… Anyway, we soldiered on, and around ¾ of the way in, the film finally got going. I got chills, goose bumps, and, when the demon lifted the bedsheet, I reached out to grip Hubby’s thigh.

The guy, Micah, irritated me. Even after having irrefutable proof that something nasty was messing with them, he still antagonised the demon and encouraged it to come after them. Of course, his actions don’t justify him being killed, I don’t mean it like that, but I do wonder if he’d just left it alone whether the demon would have remained quieter without going as far as it did.

The spookiest bit for me was when the woman, Katie, stood beside the bed for hours, unaware she did so. And also the knowledge that the demon had possessed her. Where did she go after killing Micah? Did her possession change her into a “being” without a body and she went up into the roof space with the original demon? Or is she out there somewhere as a human, still possessed, doing all manner of demonly things to other people? Wondering if film two deals with that.

We went to bed after watching, and my mind lightly churned over all the fascinating aspects of such a thing happening. That many of us could have demons in our houses and not even know it. So of course, even though the film hadn’t freaked me as much as it could have, and I hadn’t given it too much thought, I did wake up in the middle of the night, sat up and wondered if I’d heard a noise or whether something else had woken me. And then I moved to hug Hubby and he woke, gripped my wrist and gasped before falling back to sleep, unaware he’d even done it.

So I guess you could say the movie did its job. Disturbed us, settled in our subconscious, even though we didn’t find it as scary as we’d expected. And I’m not going to be clamouring to watch #2 either. My son said it was “horrible”. LOL

Snow... Love it or hate it?

Come and join me, blogging as Sarah Masters, on Four Strong Women today!

HERE!

Win a Prize Every Weekday Before Christmas!

Be sure to stop by Three Wicked Writers Plus Two every day from Dec 1st until Christmas. You can win a prize every darn weekday. WOOT!

Out Today! His Beautiful Wench

BLURB:

Drawn to the attic in her new home, Amelia finds a saucy nineteenth-century wench dress. At first glance, it’s just a dress, but once she dons it, desire streaks through her and she’s transported to the past. Overwhelmed by lust, she is caught pleasuring herself, discovered by the most gorgeous man she’s ever seen, who turns out to be—her lover?

Amelia and Emmet join in an explosive sexual union, erasing the months—or is it centuries?—they have been apart as though they never existed. But suddenly Amelia awakes—alone.

Until the dress calls again.

Emmett’s not the only one lusting after Amelia. Lord Graham wants her and he doesn’t fight fair. He kidnaps her, sends Emmett on a deadly errand and forces Amelia to participate in his voyeuristic games. Although Amelia’s body betrays her, she vows to remain true to Emmett, but will he return? And can she escape the clutches of Lord Graham’s debauchery? Amidst subterfuge, treachery and murder, Amelia and Emmet’s love grows and they reach new heights of carnal passions.

EXCERPT:

Emmett ignored her, only sliding his hands to span her stomach. His mouth covered one nipple, teeth lightly nipping, and the shock nearly had her opening her eyes. He sucked, tugging on the taut peak the way she liked, as she knew he would. She cried out, almost reaching her pain threshold. Emmett eased the pressure a little, then sucked and reared his head back once more, the torment too much for her, too intense.

“Stop, I…”

He let her nipple go. It ached, and despite wanting the sweet torture to end, she longed for more. As though picking up on her thoughts, he tongued her nipple, sucking it as before. Amelia clasped her hands together tighter, wanting to cry out yet at the same time testing herself to see how far she could go. He pulled harder, his fingers stroking her waist, circling her navel, and she clenched her cunt, willed herself not to gasp.

She failed, snatching in air.

Breast free of his mouth, she lifted her pelvis, needing him to cater to her throbbing bud. The mattress dipped again as he shuffled his knees farther down the bed then settled between her legs, the heat of his breath on her slit forcing the air out of her lungs. Her torso juddered beneath his questing fingers and she itched to pinch her nipples. Instead, she squeezed her hands again. His tongue parted her. The tip swirled around her nub and a blaze of sensation warmed the folds.

“Oh God, Emmett…”

“I’m going to sup your cream. Lick you, make you want me so much you can’t breathe.”

He flattened his tongue, licking her with quick strokes, fingers smoothing down her body to widen her slit. She bucked as he worked faster, exquisite waves of pleasure ebbing and flowing in and around her bud. Panting, she writhed, unclasping her hands and gripping the headboard spindles. She dug her nails into her palms, the bite adding to her excitement. Tongue flicking from side to side, Emmett brought her to the brink of orgasm then stopped, kissing her mound and her lower belly. She hissed out between clenched teeth, frustrated but knowing when he touched her there again the pleasure would be stronger. He took his mouth from her belly and didn’t move. She waited, eyes still closed, and listened to the sounds around them—their breaths, a creaking bed downstairs, faint moans from customers, footsteps on the wooden floor below. She longed to open her eyes, to see whether he studied her, but at the same time not knowing suited her. And she waited, her heart picking up speed, her wet nub throbbing in time with it. God, how she wanted to let go and slide her hands into his hair, pushing his mouth down onto her slit, directing his movements and orchestrating the pressure. To tell him to sup her now, beg if she had to. But she remained silent, confident he knew exactly when to begin again.

At last, movement! He hooked his hands beneath her buttocks and lifted her, setting her lower half on his thighs. His balls rested against her ass, their softness and warmth arousing her beyond measure. Emmett brushed his hands up and down her legs, thumbs skating close to her thatch each time he reached the top. When he drew away she almost cried out in frustration, wanting more of the touch of his fingertips beside her mound. He leaned back to caress her shins, then her calves and she loosed a strangled moan. God, he teased her so! She needed his hands higher up, at her nub, which pulsed and swelled with every passing second. Sliding his hands beneath her knees, he pushed so her legs bent and she placed her feet beside him on the bed. He spread her legs and she could only imagine the sight of herself open for his viewing.

“Beautiful, wench. Beautiful.”

Her stomach flipped at the hoarseness of his voice, a voice that belied the fact he was in control. He was close, she sensed it, and it wouldn’t be long before he could hold back no longer and plunged inside her. She hoped it would be soon, because she was close to coming herself. The slowness of his actions had brought her to a high state of arousal, and just the slightest touch now might send her over the edge.

Thumbs sliding up and down each lip of her slit, Emmett tortured Amelia some more. She jolted, eyes nearly springing open, and waited to feel what he would do next. He placed his thumbs together then glided them down to her opening, easing them inside with his fingers splayed over her mound. He pressed his thumbs and fingers together, her pelvic bone in between, and moved his thumbs up and down the upper wall of her sheath. Suddenly, he curved his thumb tips and touched something deep inside her, a place he had never been before. A sharp sensation had her abdomen jerking and she almost, almost opened her eyes.

“Did you like that?” he asked, dragging his thumbs down then returning them to that place, pressing there with his fingers.

The sensation came again, and now he concentrated on the area, rubbing what felt like a ridge inside her. She nodded, wondering what would happen if he kept stroking. Amelia didn’t have to wait long before successive shots of fierce pleasure momentarily took away her ability to breathe.

“I told you I’d take away your breath. Good. That feels good, doesn’t it, wench?”

She nodded and gasped, riding out the new feelings his thumbs produced. As the bite receded, her bud still throbbing and in need of attention, he eased his thumbs out and gripped her waist. Without warning, he thrust his cock inside her, fucking her hard and fast. She clenched her sheath around him, gripped the bed spindles tighter and gave in to the rising tide.

“Ah, wench!” he ground out.

His firm thrusts nudged her up the bed and she crossed her ankles at his lower back, her whole body tingling with excitement. Juices coated his cock, the length of him gliding in and out easily, the aroma of sex heightening her desire. She came, bucking, keening, emotions running so high they overwhelmed her with their intensity. Emmett’s low moans and grunts brought on another wave of pleasure and her cunt ached with it. Wet heat filled her and her lover loosed a strangled yell, pushing into her with short jabs as he emptied himself into her contracting sheath. He slowed to a stop and lowered his body to hers, brushing her cheeks with sweet kisses.

Amelia opened her eyes, staring into his. Love shone from him and she wanted so much to tell him how she felt, but the words wouldn’t come, halted by the lump in her throat.

I love you, Emmett Dray. Love you…

BUY NOW!

You Write WHAT?

Come and join me HERE today and find out some of the reactions I've encountered when I've told someone what I write!

Snobbery

I'm blogging all week over at Four Strong Women as Sarah Masters. Today's rant is about snobbery. Come and share your views with me HERE!

Manners and Courtesy

Today I'm having a bit of a rant HERE. Feel free to drop by and let me know what gets your goat!

Knickers!

Come and have some fun with me at Three Wicked Writers Plus Two! I'm discussing doing housework when you're not fully clothed! Oooh-eerrr, missus!

Jasmine Aherne Interviewed Me!

Whoop! My crazy-arsed interview with Jasmine Aherne went up today. Please stop by!

Karenna Colcroft Interview

Please welcome Karenna Colcroft to my blog home. Park your botties if you like reading about hotties...like Johnny Depp *swoon*...

Nat: Hi Karenna! Welcome! What do you like best about writing?

Karenna: Creating new realities. Getting to know my characters, and having them guide me through their stories. It’s like making new friends every time I write a new story, and I’m usually kind of sad when I finish a story, because that means I’m finished with those characters. Unless I’m fortunate enough to have a sequel to put them in.

Nat: It's great when you can follow your characters through several books, isn't it? Especially when you've become so attached from the beginning.

What sets you off on a new book? Do you need visuals or audio to spark a plot?

Karenna: I don’t really need any kind of a trigger. Just the knowledge that I have to write something. Sometimes a song or something I see on TV or in real life gives me a little seed of an idea, but sometimes it’s just a matter of “What am I going to write this time?” and then off I go. I even have times when I don’t know what I’m writing until the words appear on the computer monitor. Those times are pretty cool.

Nat: Yes, like a story that's been hiding inside you without your knowledge and just takes that opportunity to come out. I hear you on that.

Do you write via keyboard or pen and paper? Or both?

Karenna: Most of the time I use my desktop computer. I’ve been writing for so long that I now type faster than I can write by hand. Sometimes, though, I use pen and paper if I’m out somewhere. For one of my novellas, I actually wrote a sex scene while sitting in a subway station in East Boston waiting for my train. Thank goodness no one peeked over my shoulder!

Nat: LOL! Can you imagine the red face if they did?

When writing, we're interrupted by many things. Of course, this isn't evident in the tale, but is there a funny moment in your real life that interrupted your writing, one that you'll always remember when you read your book again, that you'd like to share with your readers? I like to think of my books as memory keepers in a way, where special events rest between the lines that no one but me can see. Do you have the same thing going on?

Karenna: Sometimes my special events end up in the story. Just read my novella Beginner’s Luck, from Pink Petal Books… Fortunately, my husband is a tolerant man, otherwise some of the sex between Kyla and Alec in that story might have upset him just a bit. Likewise, in my novel Eternal Love, which is coming from Pink Petal on July 8, some of the reassurances and comments Rhys makes are things my husband has said to me, or said to me while I was writing the book. Those are pretty special.

I don’t have very many memorable things happening in my life, though. I’m actually pretty boring.

Nat: If you could visit one place right now, where would you go and why?

Karenna: Only one place? But…but…there’s more than one I want to visit!

Nat: Oh, go on then! More than one.

Karenna: I’d love to go back to the cottage on Cape Cod, Massachusetts, where my husband and I spent our honeymoon a couple of months ago. That was such a quiet, peaceful place, and I got some good writing done there. I’d also love to visit Lunenburg, Nova Scotia (up in Canada), which is my mother’s hometown and a place I spent a week or two every year when I was growing up. I haven’t been there in almost eight years, though, and I really want to go back.

Nat: I hope you get your dream!

If you could have one thing that would make your writing life easier, what would it be and why?

Karenna: My own room! I have two kids, and my first husband was more demanding than either of them, so I’m pretty used to writing through distractions. But let me tell you…when I’m sitting here with my hubby bashing mobs in his online role-playing game on his computer behind me, with my eleven year old sitting at her computer (yes, we have a lot of computers here…) playing a dolphin game and giving us a play-by-play account of it, and my fourteen year old traipsing into the room every few minutes to cry about something mean her friend said or tell me something cute her boyfriend texted her…it kinda puts a cramp in writing sex scenes!

Nat: I know exactly what you mean!

Do you have any phobias? What are they, and why do you think you have them?

Karenna: I’m horribly afraid of heights. Well, not so much heights…I’m afraid of falling from heights! I’m not sure why that is. I’m also terrified of not being able to breathe, which allegedly is because I drowned in a past life.

Nat: Oh, how cool. Not that you drowned in a previous life, of course, but that you know you did. I find that sort of thing fascinating, although, if you've been regressed, I don't think I'd be as brave as you and try it myself.

Do you have any obsessions? What are they, and why do you think you have them? Yes, I'm nosey...

Karenna: I’m obsessed with writing. Do I really need a reason? LOL

Nat: Nope! That's a good enough answer without explanation.

If you could look like one star, who would it be?

Karenna: I’d kind of rather keep looking like myself; I’m pretty happy with me.

Nat: That's great to be comfortable with yourself like that!

If you had the choice of going to a book signing with a star on your arm, who would it be and why?

Karenna: Johnny Depp…in full Captain Jack Sparrow regalia. Enough said. LOL

Nat: No, not enough said. I mean, this is Johnny we're discussing here. How can there ever be enough said? Now, let's see. He's beautiful. Mysterious. Sexy. Did I already say beautiful? He's charming, delightful, he's...he's...looking at us two, smile on his face, look, knowing we fancy the pants off him. Oh, what a rogue! What a devil!

Ahem, yes. Let the interview proceed. Please pardon my sojourn into my head for a minute there...

If you have children and/or you work full time, how do you find the time to write? (Johnny, Johnny, my love, I adore you... Sorry. I really am sorry, Karenna. Please do carry on.)

Karenna: I do have children. Two daughters, 14 and 11 (both with birthdays next month). Making things a bit more complicated, the eleven year old has Asperger’s Syndrome, a form of autism, so some days she’s spot on and you’d never know she isn’t just like every other kid her age, and other days she has meltdowns, won’t stop babbling about one of her obsessions, or just plain acts like she hates everyone around her. I also work part-time.

But finding time for writing isn’t as difficult as it might sound. My job is only 12-15 hours a week, and I work for my father-in-law, so he’s very flexible about my hours. My husband’s entire family knows I write, and they’re all pretty proud of me, so if I tell my father-in-law I’m under a deadline he’ll let me go home early or even let me write in the office. (Though after last week, when my husband’s uncle looked over my shoulder to see me typing something about my heroine, er, sucking the hero’s best friend, I don’t know if I’ll be allowed to write down there anymore…)

Nat: ROFL!

Karenna: My kids are in school right now, which gives me writing time, and even during the summer they’ll be off with friends or visiting their step-grandmother across the street. They’re also having to spend a month this summer with their father, which will give me way too much time alone to write.

And I get up insanely early so I have at least an hour of uninterrupted, absolutely silent time before anyone else in the household gets up. On a typical day, I manage at least 3-4 hours of writing time, though that may be scattered into 15 minutes here, half an hour there.

Nat: Oh, you've got it made! So, add your own private writing room, and you'll feel like a queen.

Fave genre, time period?

Karenna: Favorite genre…I’d have to say paranormal/urban fantasy. I love the idea that there’s stuff lurking around us that doesn’t fit the “normal” world. Though I have to admit I’m not so into vampires… I’ve read a few too many vampire stories, and since those seem to proliferate like the proverbial bunnies, a vamp story has to have something really unique or special to catch my attention.

That’s for reading, though. I’d love to write more urban fantasy, but for some reason most of the romance I write turns out to be plain old contemporary, though my novel Eternal Love is paranormal. Homicidal immortals. Very cool. LOL. Everything I write takes place in the present, because I wouldn’t even know where to start researching for something historical.

Nat: Sounds as groovy as, well, a groovy thing!

If you had one piece of advice for aspiring authors, what would it be?

Karenna: Write. Keep writing. Keep revising what you write, and learn from everything you do. No matter how much you learn about the craft, there’s always more to learn, so don’t expect to ever fully master it. Just enjoy trying. And don’t get too stressed about making your stuff perfect the second it comes out of your head onto the keyboard. You can always fix it later, but get it written first.

I think that’s more than one piece…

Nat: Yes, but jolly good advice, what? Sorry, that's the Brit in me coming out.

Well...Johnny, stop that, would you? I'm trying to talk to Karenna, dear. Gosh, he's a fiesty one... Once again, sorry about that. Karenna, it's been wonderful having you here. I've had a great time. You're a pleasure to chat with.

Darling readers, if you're ready now for a spot of tea and scones with butter and jam, please partake of such delights while you sit and read an excerpt from Karenna Colcroft, a wonder of a woman!

~*~

Beginner's Luck by Karenna Colcroft

Desire filled his eyes. “Which means we have about three hours until you have to leave. So let’s spend a little quality time together now.” He pulled her to her feet. “Race you to the bedroom.”

“I’ll win,” she taunted.

“Of course you will, because I want to watch your cute butt going up the stairs in front of me.” He lightly swatted her ass. “So get going!”

She hurried ahead of him, but with his longer legs he caught up to her at the stairs. Hands on her hips, he half chased, half pushed her to the bedroom, both of them laughing the whole way. He made everything so much fun! She’d always been scared of letting go and losing control, and playfulness had just made her feel nauseated. But Alec was so unlike anyone she’d ever known, he’d changed her. With him, she dared to let go, and he’d brought out the playful side she’d never known she had.

Just inside the bedroom door, with a twinkle in his eye that belied his stern expression, he grabbed her and dragged her toward the bed. She squelched the brief fear that surged inside her, covering it with laughter. Like Alec would ever hurt her.

He hurt himself, though. As usual, he slammed his shin into the protruding footboard of the bed. “Damn it!” he yelped. “We’re buying another bed.”

“No point doing that if we might move,” Kyla said practically.

“I meant when we move.” Smiling, he abruptly shoved her down to the bed and imprisoned her with his arms. “Unless you have other ideas.”

“When we move?” she repeated, shocked. She must have missed that decision. Sure, they’d said things like “if we move in together, we should…,” but it had never been anything definite. Even though she desperately wanted it to be. After her marriage, she hadn’t thought she’d ever want to live with any man again, but in her heart she wanted a life with Alec. And his words sounded pretty definite.

“I want you and the kids to live with me.” His arms abandoned the cage they’d formed and wrapped around her as he lay on his side next to her. His eyes filled with the deep feelings she knew he had for her. “I love you, I love them, and I love being with you. It just doesn’t feel right when I head home and leave you behind.” He sounded uncertain as he added, “I thought we’d already decided we would move in together, but maybe I was wrong.”

Kyla’s heart soared. For weeks she’d wondered where their relationship stood, and now he had told her. He wanted a life together as much as she did. She’d never dreamed she would find love this strong.

He studied her, waiting for her response, and she hastened to reassure him. “Maybe I’m just too literal. Maybe I expected you to come out and formally ask me.”

“Which I just did,” he pointed out.

“Yes.”

He blinked, confused. “Yes I just asked, or yes you’ll move in with me?”

“Yes, I’ll move in with you!” To show how much she meant it, she brought her mouth to his in a hard, tongue-filled kiss. “As soon as I talk the girls into it,” she added slowly when they parted.

“Good luck with that,” Alec joked. “They aren’t going to want to live with me.”

“Bullshit,” Kyla said firmly. “They adore you. They just won’t want to move again.”

“Yeah, well, I know how much their father moved you guys around,” Alec said. His face twisted like he’d smelled something horrible, the way it often did when he mentioned Kyla’s ex. Then he smiled. “We’ll have plenty of time to talk about it. It’s not like it’s going to happen tomorrow.” With a lascivious look in his eyes, he moved onto her. “Right now I think we have something to do before you go pick up those girls.”

“And what would that be?” Kyla said innocently.

“Where do you hide your toys?” He pressed against her so she couldn’t mistake his arousal.

Flow or Stall?

When a book almost writes itself, for an author it could be said there’s nothing better. The words flow, the plot falls into place and the word count grows quickly. It’s sad, too, when books like that come to an end. There’s never any guarantee the next book will spill onto the page like the previous. Those books that are pulling-teeth painful to write could be books I shouldn’t even be writing. If I’m finding it tough, why do I continue with that book? Because I hate wasted words. I hate admitting the book isn’t calling to me as I think it should, so I write it anyway. It doesn’t mean I’ll ever submit it for publication, but I’ll finish it all the same. Sometimes I start over, which is what I’ll be doing with a book I’ve left half written. The beginning is an information dump, something I try very hard not to do, but at first I couldn’t work out what was wrong with it. I just didn’t have the urge to write more of it and was too close to it to see the light. Now, since taking a break and looking at it objectively, I saw the information dump and realised that rather than having my words wasted, I just need to rearrange them and write things in between to thin out the feel of giving my readers a list.

Lightbulb moments are great.

The thing is, I’m so into the flowing book that I’m afraid if I switch to the info dump book I’ll lose the urge to finish the one that is shouting to be written. So the flowing book wins until it’s completed, and then I’ll return to the other book and fix the mess I made. Hopefully. If not, I have a cozy home for it in a file on my computer.

So far I have no title for the flowing book. Sometimes I start with the title and work from there, but other times I find a title crops up as I’m writing. One line appears in the book and the title is born. I have yet to have a book where a title totally eludes me, but hey, there’s a first time for everything!

So, off I go back into my world where a kidnap has occurred and a rescue is about to take place. Oh, the joys of putting my mind films on the page. I really do love my job!


(Lightbulb image from www.faqshop.com)

Debut Day!

Today is my debut with Ellora’s Cave (too exciting!) and I’m typing this with a hair dye on my head. Oh yes, I could have done a number of more exotic things to celebrate, but to be honest, when I woke I got a case of the jitters. I’m a multi-published author in other pen names, but this name is special to me because, well, she just is. Also, being with Ellora’s was a long-time dream of mine, and to know my first book is out today is a little overwhelming. Okay, I’ll admit I cried this morning, then took myself off to a friend’s house to take my mind off the release.

So, my daughter just said, “Why’s your hair going purple?”

Purple? It’s meant to be burgundy. I looked in the mirror, and sure enough it looks a tad purple. No matter. So long as it covers the grey streak I don’t care. What’s a bit of purple among friends? And that grey streak down my parting had become so unsightly… I read the instructions to see how long I needed to keep the dye on for. It said: If they grey is abundant…

Cheeky buggers! How did they know? And yes, it’s abundant all right. And the dye is burning my head. I can only hope my hair doesn’t fall out. Now wouldn’t that be something to remember this day by?

“How did your release day go, Nat?”

“Great! I went bald!”

If you buy Soul Keeper, I really hope you enjoy it. Two more of my books are coming soon—Magenta Starling (novella) and His Beautiful Wench (novel). My editor is looking at a new novella, Come Find Me, and I’m writing another novel, so hopefully I can give you a range of books to choose from, if you so wish.

Well, I think it might be an idea to see if that abundant grey has disappeared. Though let’s pray the hair hasn’t, eh?

Another EC Acceptance

I have seen some truly beautiful prose and wished I could write like that. I have been through the self-doubt mill too many times to count, analyzed my many ‘voices’ and tried to capture that something that makes my work unique. I hope I’ve achieved it, but the beauty of writing is that there’s always room for improvement, always something new to learn. It makes this profession interesting, keeps me on my toes, and makes me strive to do better.

I received another acceptance with Ellora’s Cave and, apart from being stupidly excited to the point I felt sick, I was bowled over that my editor likes my work. I’m not complaining, but because I’m so hard on myself it makes it difficult to believe it when a contract is offered. I actually wanted to run around the house screaming, but my poor husband wouldn't have known what to do so I settled for stamping my feet several times on the spot and letting out a pathetic squeak.

I’ve been writing a loooooong time. I’ve had ups and downs, times when I thought I should give up, but something inside pushed me forward to where I wanted to be—Ellora’s Cave. When your dream comes true it’s hard to take in. Surreal, and the term pinching yourself to make sure you’re not dreaming was in effect the day I walked into the Cave. I still can’t believe it. Still can’t get to grips with the fact my debut book comes out this month. Still can’t get over seeing my name and book cover on the Coming Soon page of the place I used to visit with the words: Oh God, I wish my name was there in the author list.

Recently, I visited the site to look at the author list. My name was there, but it was like I looked at someone else’s name. No, my name can’t possibly be there because things like that don’t happen to me. It has, I know that, but when you’ve dreamed of something for so long and you finally get what you’ve wanted, it takes some getting used to.

I used to be scared of EC. Scared of how huge it is, how many authors are there, of the sheer ‘bigness’ of it all. But it isn’t like that at all. Scary, I mean. I wanted to let people know that EC staff are the most kind, polite, lovely bunch of people and submitting to them shouldn’t fill you with dread. Submit. Go for it. If you get an acceptance you’ll be embraced by a fabulous family.