Crock Pot Delights! Enter to win a free copy of ENDLESS NIGHT

I have been on a long sabbatical of crock pot use. A very long sabbatical. But now I have a shiny, brand new crock pot sitting on my kitchen counter. What do I do with it?

I am soliciting the help of readers, authors, friends and anyone with a delicious idea to please submit a crock pot recipe so I can figure out what to cook, and how to cook it!!

On October 1st I will be giving away a digital copy of ENDLESS NIGHT to a random submitter. I will also bake the recipe that winner has submitted and post a picture of the final product on this blog! And lastly, I will give you a big hug! :)

Why I Like Writing

There is a list of obvious reasons why I love to write.

It is my passion.
It completes me.
It helps me to escape-while at the same time controlling my destination.

But over the years, I've come to realize that there is a factor to this profession that I would have never considered as I sat up in my turret and wove tales of romance and suspense.

Writing has made this big planet of ours so much smaller. When I wake up in the morning in North Carolina, if I don't log into Twitter immediately, suspense author, Shirley Wells does not eat in Britain. My logging in is her trigger to prepare lunch. It is also an alert to the bubbly author, Pauline Barclay in Lanzarote in the Canary Isles to blend us up a pitcher of something delicious.

Before I met the regency and suspense author, Wendy Soliman, I am going to blatantly admit...I had no idea where or what Andorra was! I thought it was a fur. Now, thanks to Wendy and the pictures she has shared, I know that Andorra is a beautiful little country nestled in the Pyrenees mountains between Spain and France.

Mystery writer Vicki Tyley and I negotiate the time change between Australia and here. In this small world, I'm able to look out at her backyard and feel like I'm sitting on the porch with her. One day I will be, Vicki!


Romantic Suspense author, Toni Anderson teaches me how to get cats out of trees in Canada, and mystery writer, Marcelle Dubé teaches me to speak French.

I once watched that movie, Insomnia with Al Pacino. It was based in Alaska. Cathy Pegau, the great author from the frozen north certainly must suffer from insomnia as I swear I see her on Twitter 24 hours a day. She baffles time zones!

Through this wonderful profession, I am able to keep tabs on the weather conditions for my parents with romance author, Betsy Horvath and paranormal romance author, Maggie James as they both live a stone's throw from my old homestead.

In Maine, romantic suspense author Launa McNeilly and the talented poet and author, Jeff Howe have made me an honorary resident of the state. I love you guys!

There are many authors in Texas that I'm happy to consider friends. I think the state breeds talented authors. I've billed the illustrious adventure author, Brendan Carroll as the "World's Most Interesting Man."

And of course, Florida. Florida hosts so many lovely author friends of mine. So many! 

When I wake up in the morning, I smile. As my fingers touch the keyboard to begin typing a new page, I look next to me and I have the whole world sitting there. A bevvy of authors and friends with silly grins on their faces, as they say, "Go on. You can do it."

I would be lost without them.

I love being a writer.

Brand New Excerpts!!

 ENDLESS NIGHT (Kindle)   ENDLESS NIGHT (Nook)


A woman hiding from her identity. A man trying to find his.


After witnessing a murder, Megan Summers ran until she reached the remote coastal village of Victory Cove. She has a new name, but she knows it’ s only a matter of time before the murderer catches up with her.
Jake Grogan has come to town to unravel the mystery of his heritage. Instead of finding his grandmother at Wakefield House, he discovers an attractive stranger who will do anything to get him off her doorstep. Trapped by a storm, he’ s forced to stay the night with Megan—a woman who keeps a handgun under her bed and closes herself off from the outside world.
Jake tries to dig deeper into his past, but he’ s distracted by his fear for Megan’ s safety and his growing feelings for her. Danger is drawing near and he’ ll do anything to keep her safe. Will it be enough to help them survive the endless night?


     “There’s no ghost here.” She crossed her arms. “I was just building up the hype to intimidate you.”

Instead of the expected smirk, Megan was surprised to see Jake’s face sober. “There is a ghost at Wakefield House.”

Her lips parted, but he continued in a husky tone, “She’s so haunting. So beautiful. Pure of heart. Something divine, yet cloaked in shadows. Rooted to this house as if chains were linked about her ankles. Her wings are spread, they pump and pump, but still she can’t escape.” His smile was sad. “And so she sits, as a sentinel—a prisoner, and waits for someone to come and release her.”

Breath fled her body. She reached for the back of the chair and tried to stave off the haunting image. Was it really her? Was that the image she portrayed?

At the same time that this house was her refuge— was it not also her dungeon?

    “Have you come to release me?” she whispered, breathless.

JUNGLE OF DECEIT (Kindle)      JUNGLE OF DECEIT (Nook)

Mitch Hasslet, a war photojournalist relegated to a desk job, is the sole witness to a heist of Mayan artifacts. Recruited by the enigmatic director of the Museum of Art and Antiquities, Mitch is sent to Guatemala, the last location the shipment was tracked to. Acting as the museum staff photographer, Mitch joins a group of archaeologists. His goal is to locate the artifacts as swiftly as possible so that he can collect his compensation and get the hell out of the jungle.

Alexandra Langley is about to run out of funds. She has yet to discover the lost Mayan civilization she knows lurks in the rainforest. To achieve her grant, she will accept the museum's latest nuisance, Mitch Hasslet, and any other obstacle that is sent her way.

Unsuccessful and desperate, Alex has decided to move the group to a portion of the jungle referred to as, “No Man’s Land”−a sector where archaeological teams have ventured but never returned. 

As Mitch and Alex discover romance, will their bond protect them in a jungle filled with deceit? 

           “No!” he lurched upright.

Red strobes contrasted with the stark interior of his tent to reveal a woman with long black hair sitting in the corner.

One gasp. Another. Soon Mitch began to disassociate the nightmare from the screeching nocturnal pitch of the jungle. He closed his eyes, and when he opened them again the woman was gone.

Damn, I hate night sounds.

He considered turning on the flashlight, but the even breathing nearby reminded him that he shared this little canvas hell with Wes and Chuckles. His fingers wrapped around the aluminum cylinder as he hoisted out of the tent into the energetic heart of the jungle.

Night sounds. This jungle was full of them.

Reluctant to flick on the flashlight, Mitch relied on brief flashes of moonlight to aid with his getaway.

He explored the camp with the limited light. What in God’s name was he hoping for—to catch a glimpse of a crate marked with the HAA insignia?  If he was successful, Nicholson had promised to use his connections to get him back into a lucrative photojournalist career. Although, if he was successful, he didn’t think he’d need the museum director’s influence.

Mitch broadened his circle around the site until he was tucked deep in a thicket of trees, far enough away to risk using the flashlight. He flicked on the beacon and stifled a shout as startled red eyes stared him dead on.

The disturbed kinkajou, a raccoon-like mammal, swung upside down from one of the branches and blinked curiously at Mitch. Recovering from the shock, he continued his loop, careful this time not to lose track of the camp. He only had a few hours until he was scheduled to meet up with Alex.

What was disturbing was how much he was looking forward to that.

Grandma

No doubt by this time you've all heard me share a tale or two about Grandma. Let me introduce you to this little hellion.

93 years old and she still has to make sure she has the necklace and bracelet on!! With Grandma everything is about appearance. Only a few years ago she gave up the battle with dying her hair, but she still gets her hair done weekly. She will spend Saturday plotting what to wear to 'church' on Sunday, and if she feels someone was dressed better than her, she'll pout for a good hour or two afterwards. 

Her name is Anne Miller and with very little instigation on your part, she will produce a photograph from the bottom of her purse that was taken of her and Anne Miller, the dancer. That photograph is her pride and joy. 

Grandma lives in a residence that accommodates the elderly. It is not assisted living. She has her own apartment, and she cooks for herself, but the inhabitants are all around her age. Apparently we come full circle in life. I equate Grandma's peers to a bunch of high school students. Cliques are back in full force. It is a great debate over who you sit next to and who you are seen with. The 4 men to 30 women ratio has pretty much alienated the 4 poor gentlemen who band together and play pool, ignoring all the women watching them through the window.

Bingo is the absolute end-all at this place. Grandma will often be caught saying, "Three days till Bingo. Two days till Bingo." She gets very upset when "Mary" wins EVERY week. I calmly point out that Mary buys four cards so she must never make a profit. That doesn't matter. Mary gets to yell, "Bingo!"  There was a sad week when bingo was cancelled because Bob, the resident who ran it, passed away. Poor Bob, the first thing the ladies said upon hearing of his demise was, "Who's going to do Bingo now?" 

This week, Grandma took a tumble in the parking lot. She suffered a broken nose, lacerations about the face and her eye is swollen shut. Of course she smiles and says, "You should see the other guy!" 

I feel like the most famous person in the world when I arrive at that establishment. The thirty women will appear in the hall (I honestly believe some sort of visitor sensor alarms goes off in their rooms) when I walk through, and they all go, "Ohhhh, the author is here!" hahaha I love that!

As you can tell,  Grandma means the world to me. I promise to keep you posted with more of her exploits because they are quite entertaining. :)

Life On The Treadmill

Time is a commodity we all seem to be running out of. No matter how much you organize your daily schedule, the tasks to complete far exceed the tasks accomplished.

I write and I work, and unfortunately I have a deep need for reading, a task that all too often falls by the wayside in favor of more pressing matters. Another task (usually the first one scratched off the list when something more pressing like removing my nail polish comes along) is exercise.

I really want to get some exercise in during the day. Seriously, I do. Don't double over in laughter!

When people ask about the merits of e-readers over paperback, one example would be the treadmill. I hop on the treadmill (with slightly more verve than the fellow in this picture), and I set my e-reader down on the stand, and change the font to one inch tall...and I multitask!!!  Reading and exercise. I have multi-tasked! I actually used to attempt this with paperbacks, but I had to hold the book open with one hand while simultaneously running...which is impossible, so perhaps a benefit to paperbacks is that they kept me from jogging. :)

Another gadget I use for saving time is the Roomba. In theory the Roomba is supposed to be vacuuming while I write, but sadly I find myself talking to it. I follow it around the house and critique its performance. I play games of chicken with it and I anger it when I put something in its path to alter its trajectory. Ohhh, Roomba gets so mad! He bounces against it for about five times before finally saying, "Okay, fine, I didn't want to go over there anyway."

My big battle is economizing on cooking time. I want a good meal, but the time to prepare it eludes me. Alas, Roomba can't help with the cooking. :(

Does anyone have any time-saving formulas to share? Please? :)

Memories from 9/11

It's hard to believe it has been ten years since that fateful day. Time may pass, but that Tuesday never loses its clarity. Wednesday, Thursday, Friday all were spent in a stupor. I was glued to any form of media that could offer information or solace...but by Saturday I was ready to enter the world again.

My endeavor into daylight was with two goals in mind. One, I wanted to buy a flag. And two, I needed to see for myself. I needed to see that they were really gone. I lived in NJ, so I hopped on I-78 and started towards the city. I used to travel out of Newark Airport every week, so I knew exactly which point on 78 I would hit the crest of a hill and be able to see the towers in the distance. On this day I hit that crest and they were not there. Not even realizing that I was crying as I drove under overpasses with American flags tied to them, I made it as close to the city as I was permitted. It was a sunny day, with a beautiful blue sky, and all I can remember was the smoke against that backdrop.

After awhile, I turned around and headed back towards home. I was looking for my second goal. A flag.

To my surprise, I could not find an American flag anywhere. Every store was sold out. I ended up back in my town and was directed towards the American Legion where they were reportedly giving away little plastic flags for a tiny donation of a dollar or two. I had never been to the American Legion before. I've driven past it for so many years, but never acknowledged it. I went in and thought that it was closed, but someone pointed towards a door in the parking lot. This door led downstairs into a bar. I had no idea there was a full bar and restaurant below the American Legion.

I went up to the counter to inquire about the flags, which they happily handed to me and asked only for a $1.00 contribution to assist those impacted in our town by the tragedy. I offered far greater than the simple dollar requested, and I turned to find more people ambling in from outside. A family walked down the steps. They took a single small flag and handed over a hundred dollar bill. The next person took a single flag and handed over a couple twenties.

I couldn't bring myself to leave. I watched as every walk of life came down those stairs and offered whatever they could for a simple three inch American flag.

Time has passed, but never the memories. I was proud of my community that day. Perhaps giving money was a simple way out, but it was the faces that I remember most. Every person that walked down those stairs bore a twisted look of wistful pain. We grieved, but we grieved together.

Guest author - Betsy Horvath

Today I welcome Carina Press romantic suspense author, Betsy Horvath. May I just say, this author had me at "Scarecrow and Mrs. King..."

What inspired the plot to HOLD ME?

First of all, thank you, Maureen!  I'm so happy and excited to be here with you today. :)

HOLD ME was originally inspired by the 1980's television show, "Scarecrow and Mrs. King".  The book took off from there and changed, of course, but that show was definitely an influence in the beginning.

If you’re not writing, what is your very next activity of choice?

That's not hard - if I'm not writing, then I have to be reading.  There is nothing I love more than sitting in my big comfy chair with a cup of coffee in one hand, and a book in the other.  Usually there is also a cat or two in my lap to help turn the pages.

Has your TBR grown fangs?

Absolutely.  Especially now that I have a Kindle and don't have the physical reminder of how many books I already own. Then there's the fact that I've fallen in love with so many of the Carina authors.  Every time the Carina newsletter comes out I add three or four more titles to my list.

What superpower would you prefer to have?

Oooooo that's a tough one.  Is "Able to Eat Anything Without Gaining Weight" a superpower?  If so, I want it. Now!

Would you kiss the Blarney Stone if you visited it?

I certainly would!  I need as much luck as I can get.  And aren't you a clever girl, because the original title of my book was not HOLD ME, it was THE LUCK OF THE IRISH.  Faith and begorrah!

What awesome authors did you “trip the light fantastic” with recently in New York City? (Clue, I am one of them.)

There were SO many wonderful authors in NYC for the RWA conference. It was terrific to actually meet other people from Carina Press.  And at the Harlequin Black and White Ball, I had the pleasure of hanging with the effervescent Adrienne Giordano (one of my release mates), and someone else...  Hmmm...who was it? Oh...oh yeah!  It was YOU!  Maureen A Miller, author extraordinaire!  (By the way, I hear rumors that both Adrienne and Maureen can bust a move on the dance floor.  But nobody holds a candle to Julie Rowe.)

What can we look for next from Betsy Horvath?

Well, I'm working on a contemporary romance right now, then I'll be writing the sequel to HOLD ME.  Whatever I write, romance will be involved.  And probably coffee.

HOLD ME excerpt.

Here's an excerpt from Chapter 2.  It picks up pretty much where the Chapter 1 excerpt on my website leaves off:

Katie finally got the car started, holding her feet on the gas pedal and the brake at the same time so the thing wouldn’t stall out again. Then, without any warning, the passenger door opened and a disheveled, dark-haired man slid in next to her.

She stared at him, shocked.

“Hi,” he said.

“What do you think you’re doing?” The fear slammed into her. Her car doors. She’d forgotten to lock her car doors. “Get out of my car!” Everything her mother had ever told her about serial killers and rapists and carjackers raced through her mind so fast they burned it out and left it blank.

“Yeah. Well, see, I’d like to, but—”

“You’d like to? Get out or I’ll call the police.” Call the police. Yes, yes. Call the police. Katie fumbled for her purse and her cell phone, but he grabbed her wrist.

“Damn it, don’t panic! I’m not going to hurt you.”

“I’m not panicking.” Okay, so that was a lie, but he didn’t have to know it. “Just get out!” She struggled to unhook her seat belt. The buckle, naturally, refused to budge. Oh, God, she was trapped in the car with a stranger. The light turned green, but she ignored it and the car horns that blared behind them as she fought with the belt. “Take the car,” she panted. “You can have the car. Just let me go.”

“Would you listen to me?” The man tightened his hold on her arm and glanced back through the rear window. “Please. I swear that I’m not going to hurt you. I swear. Honest. I’m with the FBI. There are people chasing me who want to kill me. They’re almost here. I need your help. Please.”

Katie hesitated and looked right into the man’s beautiful dark eyes. He seemed sincere. This could be a scam, though. Her mother’s voice in her head was screaming at her not to be stupid. This could all just be a way to lull her suspicions. But his voice was deep and musical, and she thought she heard some real desperation in it.

“If you—”

There was a sharp sound like a firecracker. The mirror on Katie’s side of the car exploded.

She screamed. Loudly.

        “Go!” the man yelled. 

HOLD ME is available now from Carina Press, Amazon, Barnes & Noble and wherever fine ebooks are sold.

Katie McCabe's life is going nowhere fast when FBI Special Agent Lucas Vasco jumps into her car at an intersection. Luc, his undercover guise blown, is on the run from the Mafia and expects to be killed at any moment. What he doesn't plan on is finding himself attracted to the firecracker beside him. He feels compelled to protect her when her life is threatened, and insists she stay with him for her own safety.

After learning she has become the target of a psychotic hit man, Katie is whisked off to Luc's house to hide. Once there, she's shocked to discover that she and Luc have an unexpected connection; a connection Luc already knew existed, but withheld. Will their intense attraction reach flashpoint despite their misunderstandings and the pain of the past?

Betsy Horvath was raised on MGM musicals, old skool Harlequins, and Nancy Drew, so it should not have come as a shock that one day she'd be writing romance.  The biggest surprise was that it took her so long to actually buckle down and do it.  Hold Me is her debut romantic suspense novel.

You can usually find her at her website: www.betsyhorvath.com, on Twitter or hanging around Facebook.