Maureen A. Miller

Things That Make Me Happy

2012-01-26T06:10:00.000-08:00

Peanut butter and jelly sandwiches
A black and white movie on a cold night
The smell of a puppy
A light that turns green as you approach it
Fall mornings
Sand that doesn't stick to you
Mashed potatoes
My friends
Swimming in a lit pool at night
Football
Publishing contracts
Lighthouses
Sitting on the couch with the one you love

To name a few.... :)

What makes you happy?

Special Tribute

2012-01-21T03:01:00.000-08:00

Special Tribute to Indie Author L.C. Evans

On the 24th January 2012, The IndieView is hosting a special tribute to indie author L.C. Evans, who lost her fight with cancer earlier this month. To celebrate and honour her life and her contribution to the Indie eBook revolution, The IndieView is giving away a whole bunch of free books.

In Linda's own words, from her IndieView a year ago...
“I want my books to appeal to everyone, though I understand that men in general aren’t fond of reading chick lit or romantic comedy.”

Buy her books, read her books, and make her words live.

If chick lit or romantic comedy is not your thing, authors who have been interviewed on The IndieView, will give you one of their books for every one of Linda's books that you buy. Visit The IndieView 24 January and help Linda's words live on.

Am I a Geek?

2012-01-07T16:02:00.000-08:00

In ENDLESS NIGHT the hero, Jake Grogran, is an electrical engineer. An electrical engineer. Sheesh! As Megan Summers says to him, "What do you do, plug in light bulbs?"

Why is Jake not a cop, a fireman...heck, why is he not an Air Force pilot? No. He's an electrical engineer. And I love him. Maybe it's just the fact that a normal guy in a mundane occupation can be sexy. He can be a hero.

Jake can make a house alarm out of a hairdryer and a kitchen timer. And engineer geek or not, he can protect Megan and make her feel like the most cherished person in the universe.

That's a hero.

Snakes...Why Did It Have To Be Snakes?

2011-12-29T19:51:00.000-08:00

Let's face it...we all feel the same way Indiana Jones does about snakes. There is absolutely no place for a snake in a romance novel.

In a review of JUNGLE OF DECEIT, a reader cited a scene with a snake and stated, if I were there I would have been saying "come on feet don't fail me now."

Alex, the heroine has very little fear of snakes except for the deadly fer-de-lance. But our reluctant hero, Mitch, harbors an Indiana-like aversion towards the reptiles. For that fact, he has an aversion to monkeys, rodents, mosquitoes and any creature that makes noise at night.

That is my idea of a hero. A man with vulnerabilities. Vulnerabilities that he will tackle if it means saving his woman. I don't like snakes, but they are the nature of romantic suspense. Instead of delving their toes in a pristine beach, these characters are thrown into a jungle full of snakes and howler monkeys. Love needs its obstacles, right?

Christmas Memories

2011-12-19T08:27:00.000-08:00

It's no great secret. You all know that I'm not too fond of my Ukrainian food on Christmas Eve. Regardless, I valiantly kept up with tradition. Here I am in full Ukrainian garb at a Christmas special at school. Sadly, I think I still remember the line I had to recite that night on stage.

Christmas is full of so many memories, but for me, music is the strongest. Every year, Grandma and I would put tinsel on the tree while listening to the original Chipmunks Christmas album. (I seriously mean the original...Grandma had it before I was even born!!)

On Christmas Eve, when I was about to go to sleep, Dad would put on the Johnny Mathis Christmas album. That became such a tradition that to this day, I'll put that album on as I'm about to go to sleep.

We all have so many Christmas traditions, but do you have any of those little ones...a tradition like that, where you have to put Johnny Mathis on or else all is not right in the world?

Sample Sunday - JUNGLE OF DECEIT

2011-12-11T13:16:00.000-08:00

Sample Sunday excerpt from JUNGLE OF DECEIT

“And what made the doctor move to this sector?” Mitch asked when he was knee-deep in ferns and unable to spot the ground beneath him.

Chuck stopped, lifting the bottom of his shirt to swipe the perspiration from his forehead. “You mean you don’t know?”

“Know what?”

“That no one else has been here.”

One glimpse up at the ceiling of writhing limbs, uncertain whether they were branches or indigenous reptiles, Mitch observed, “Understandable. But you sound cryptic. Why does no one come here?”

“Well…” Chuck seemed reluctant to embellish, “−there have been others—others who have.” He paused, glancing over his shoulder as if to confirm no one had followed them. “But they never returned. Not one single member of any party that traveled to this region ever returned. The area is marked on the map as No Man’s Land.”

At that moment, a macaw screeched an eerie warning, and Mitch flinched.

“You’re pulling my leg.” He tried to sound composed. “Let’s spook the photographer, huh?”

“Would I purposely try to scare you?” Chuck grinned. “I wish I had thought of that.”

He pushed a branch aside and looked back. “Personally, I believe that a group or two have come in here, ran into some problems…hell, get bit by the right thing, or have a run in with a Fer-de-lance, and you’re doomed. Anyway, over the years, those little tales have escalated into hordes of archeologists gone missing. It’s become nothing more than campfire fodder,” Chuck frowned. “You know what I’m saying?”

Mitch doubted the man’s levity. And it was hard for him to form any conjecture without knowing the facts. “How many people are you talking? How many have gone missing?”

“Five that I know of. There have been reports of others, but like I said, the frenzy of gossip could have jacked the count up.”

“Word of mouth can spread faster than a rash from these damn mosquitoes.” Mitch swiped at the offensive swarm.

Confident now in his role as the leader, Chuck charged through the shrub. “So, you got shot down by Doc?” he tossed back a blue-eyed grin.

“What makes you say that?”

“Well, hell, it was written all over your face when you came back to camp. We all know that expression. Don’t sweat it, bro. You’re not alone. No one’s ever gotten a piece of that.”

I’m not going to have the time to try, because I’m not staying here.

And, I’m not interested in a piece of that, dammit.

Sample Sunday excerpt from JUNGLE OF DECEIT

I'm a horse!

2011-12-07T09:54:00.000-08:00

When the lovely and talented author, Dana Marton was searching for a name for a horse in her new book, naturally I offered up the first that came to mind..."Maureen."

Well, the beautiful, lovely, and talented author, Dana Marton did indeed name the horse "Maureen" in her upcoming book, which I know we all CAN'T WAIT FOR now!

Let's list some famous "Maureen, The Horse" songs and movies...

I've been through the desert on a horse called Maureen

My Friend Maureen

The Maureen Whisperer

Update: 12/18/2011 - I am not just a horse! The lovely GayleC has made me an ornament too!

Black Friday

2011-11-27T19:59:00.000-08:00

A dear friend of mine from Australia reminded me that the rest of the world doesn't share the merchandising nightmare we refer to as "Black Friday". It is a term we take for granted, and it is a stigma that the commercial warlords have imposed on us.

I learned of the term as a very little girl. My grandmother worked for Bamburgers, which later became Macys. She walked around the house with her hands in the air, chanting, "Black Friday is coming. Black Friday is coming."

The look of horror on her face made me want to go hide behind the couch. I didn't know what Black Friday was, but based on the way she carried on, it had to be something awful, and I wanted NO part of it. Interestingly enough, my dear friend said that in Australia they associate the term Black Friday with Friday the 13th.

So all of this got me to wondering where the origin of the phrase came from. To keep it simple, it basically represents the point where retailers start to turn a profit, or are 'in the black'. Grandma will tell you it was the color of her toes after standing in heels all day. :)

Now they have Cyber Monday. That's too new. Check back with me in twenty years and I'll probably have some illustrious tale about it. Although I warn you not to refer to Cyber Monday as something awful while the kiddies are around. They may think a bunch of robots are on the attack.

Just Romantic Suspense

2011-10-24T16:55:00.000-07:00

A funny thing happened to me during a random Google search...

I decided one day to execute a simple search for romantic suspense authors. I don't know what I was expecting to find. Perhaps a rainbow with a pot of gold at the end that contained every romantic suspense author there ever was, sitting inside, all waving back at me.

That is not what I got, however. Instead, I experienced the harsh, disjointed results of a random internet search. I found romantic suspense authors by publishing house, by RWA Chapter, by political party (just kidding).They were listed as mystery writers, or suspense writers...but there was no communal vault of happy, waving romantic suspense authors.

So I decided to make one.

And it is growing...

If you are looking for just romantic suspense, please stop by!

Follow @JustRomSuspense
or on FACEBOOK

Guest Author - Wendy Soliman

2011-10-20T03:00:00.000-07:00

I am delighted to have Wendy Soliman with me today. She is an extremely talented author and a great friend.

I was going to start by thanking Maureen for inviting me here. Then I saw the fiendish questions she’d set me and wondered if gratitude was still the right response. Anyway, I’m here now, so here goes.

Q. Your writing is as diverse as my taste in music. (Is she serious?). How do you do it? How do you so skilfully switch between Regency and Contemporary Romance?

Why thanks for saying I do it skilfully. Not sure that was the case when I started out trying to do both. I was told that my ‘Regency’ roots showed in the language of my contemporaries. I worked on that and strangely enough it’s helped me become less stilted when I switch back to yester-year.

Q. Growing up near castles and Roman ruins, have you encountered any ghosts along the way?

I tried that one a few times but it didn’t get me out of trouble. My teachers refused to believe I was late for class because I’d had a spiritual encounter. Didn’t wash with my father either, come to that, and I was still grounded. Sigh! Some people just plain lack imagination.

Q. I personally am excited about your marine mysteries. Can you tell us more about them?

I’m so glad you asked. Blame my husband, (everyone else does!). He got me involved in boating after I’d spent my youth life living in Cowes on the Isle of Wight – the boating capital of England – and successfully avoiding anything to do with the sea. All that changed when he brought our first boat. I spent hours staring at…well, the sea and trying not to feel sick. I had to do something to pass the time so I started plotting a marine mystery. That’s how The Hunter Files came to be. The first, Unfinished Business, written under my other identity, W. Soliman, has just been released by Carina Press.

Charlie Hunter retired from the police force at 40 to relax, work on his boat and go fishing with his son on weekends, not become an amateur sleuth. But he can’t say no to Kara Webb when she seeks his help in tracking down her sister, missing for 15 years.

The disappearance of teenaged Jasmine Webb was one of the first cases Charlie worked on after being made a detective. He’s never forgotten it or his suspicions, even after the girl’s parents told police they’d heard from her and the file on Jasmine was closed.

When Charlie’s son is threatened, finding Jasmine becomes even more important—it’s no longer just about closure, it’s about protecting his family. Which makes the constant dead ends all the more frustrating. Until Charlie realizes that the question they should be asking isn’t where Jasmine is, but who she’s become.

Visit my website at http://www.wsoliman.com to read the entire first chapter. I’m running a contest there to and you stand a chance of winning a copy of the book.

Q. Your websites are beautiful. Did you design them or play a part in the designs?

Why, thank you. I bombarded my talented website designer with a ton of suggestions but she did all the work. I’ve said that I’ll take over maintaining them, which probably means they’ll crash any day now.

Q. Do you watch American football, and if so, who do you root for?

What a surprise question! At this point I ought to explain that Ms. Miller is an avid Tampa Bay Bucs fan. She also runs an ace blog and if you want to be invited to contribute—Go Bucs!

Q. You are one of the NOT YOUR USUAL SUSPECT crooners. What has that experience been like?

My therapist says that I’m showing signs of improvement. I might even get off the medication in a year or two.

Q. You spend a great deal of time on the ocean. What sea creature would excite you the most to witness?

Oh, the Loch Ness monster. Hang on, though, Nessie doesn’t hang out in salt water, does she. All right then, I’ll settle for a turtle or six. I’m actually lucky enough to have seen a couple. I couldn’t believe how graceful they are and how fast they move.

Q. Please share a picture of Jake.

I’m so glad you asked! Here he is, the little devil. Jake is my beloved mutt, rescued from a place in Spain. He’s healthy and happy and the light of my life.

Thanks, Maureen, for having me here. It’s been a blast, (I think!).

W. Soliman

Grand Theft Auto

2011-10-07T13:46:00.000-07:00

I am reading a delightful romantic suspense book called HOLD ME by Betsy Horvath. Although the setting is contemporary, the feel of the book is very reminiscent of the detective shows from the late 70's. The heroine owns a Chevy Nova, and I remember my mother had a Nova. I remember that car so vividly, because as a child I used to play on the golf course, and the golf pro would call my mother to come take me off the course...and the Nova would show up. I was about 7 or 8 years-old at the time, and I used to play on the greens because the grass was pretty. :)

One day, I had my trusty stuffed dachshund, Fremont tucked under my arm when I hiked up near the clubhouse. A golf cart was sitting a few feet away from the building, and yes...I did it. I climbed in and set Fremont on the vinyl seat beside me. It had to be real awkward for me to make the cart move, but I somehow managed about twenty yards of sheer bliss! I stopped because I was absolutely terrified that I had moved at all. And then I heard voices! I grabbed Fremont and ducked behind the golf cart as one of the men stopped and commented, "How did that get out there?" My heart was beating a thousand miles an hour. So was Fremont's. But the men moved along and I ran home, thinking that for one brief and shining moment, I was able to feel the rush of wind in my hair as I blazed across the grass at 2 miles per hour. A rebel at 8. LOL

Crock Pot Delights winner!

2011-10-02T09:37:00.000-07:00

Congratulations to Candace Bowen Early who was picked from random-selection software as the winner of a copy of ENDLESS NIGHT

In addition, I promised I would cook the recipe of the entrant if one was supplied. Here is Candace's BBQ Pork. It was delicious!!

Thank you everyone for your great ideas and recipes. You just might make a chef out of me yet. :)

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

2011-09-22T05:56:00.000-07:00

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

2011-09-20T15:23:00.001-07:00

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!!

2011-09-17T08:39:00.000-07:00

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

2011-09-15T07:12:00.000-07:00

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 has 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. She has a walker, but she won't use it in front of anyone, and she won't step outside without putting lipstick and blush on.

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. The funny thing I learned through her exploits is that we all 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 these 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 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!" Some of you might have seen my Facebook post about Grandma discovering the new stud on the campus. An 87-year old who looks like a football player. I tease Grandma and say, "Oh boy, I bet he's going to find you real sexy right now. You look like Rocky." She tells me she turns her face away when he comes down the hall so he can't see it. Ever the teenager!

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

2011-09-13T05:47:00.000-07:00

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

2011-09-09T05:32:00.000-07:00

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

2011-09-06T04:59:00.000-07:00

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.

Sample Sunday - JUNGLE OF DECEIT

2011-08-28T11:17:00.000-07:00

An excerpt from JUNGLE OF DECEIT available on Kindle and Nook

Alex felt Mitch’s eyes trace her with a vivid indication that yesterday’s incident remained fresh in his mind. She cleared her throat and turned towards Chuck. “What are you two up to that’s got you looking so guilty?”

Chuck reached back and pushed aside a clump of balmy leaves. “See for yourself.”

Alex had no choice but to brush against Mitch as she stooped forward to peer through the foliage. That sensation was disregarded at the first glimpse of the disturbing tableau.

By relocating to this portion of the rain forest, she had intended to search for a temple, but this structure was not what she had in mind.

“I take it you weren’t aware of this four-star resort?” Mitch’s deep voice sounded beside her.

Letting the leaves fall back into place, Alex met his eyes. “No, I wasn’t.”

Outwardly, she strove for composure. Inside, her body trembled with the repercussions of her miscalculation. By all rights she should be at least forty miles away from the last reported missing persons case. A husband and wife team—private citizens who chose archeology as a hobby. Their journal had been discovered some fifty miles from here. It documented their trek through the Tikal, but nowhere did it infer any trouble or signs of a secreted compound.

The Pastorellis’ last contact with the outside world was nearly a year ago.

“Dare I state the obvious?” Chuck offered. “That this doesn’t look cool.”

Alex ignored the comment, and instead started back towards camp, hacking at branches with the methodic precision of a mad man.

“Hey!” Chuck charged ahead of her, his knife at the ready. “I was doing that.” He eyed the ineffective path. “Guess just not too well.”

Sensing her urgency, and perhaps her brief spiral into insanity, Chuck resumed his task, slicing through glutinous limbs until the jungle swallowed him in its deep green throat.

Mitch caught up with her. She felt his fingers secure her arm as he tugged her to a halt.

“Tell me,” he commanded.

In the deepest shadows of the rainforest, a chill overtook Alex as she stared helplessly at the hand on her arm.

“Tell you what?”

“You know what it is. That place. You know what it is.”

Once again, in Mitch’s eyes Alex saw refuge. How much she longed to slip into these lagoons and engulf herself in their secret depths. But even her precious lagoons harbored crocodiles.

She did not want to hypothesize on the giant cement exclamation point that proved what a mistake she had made.

“No,” she answered.

“Alex.”

She could sense his frustration before she heard him add, “What are you going to do?”

He knew she was withholding something, and yet instead of pushing, he simply asked, what are you going to do? It nearly made her feel a connection with this man−as if he was an unexpected ally in a world where no one was trusted.

Her throat constricted. “I will protect them.”

***

It was an unconditional statement. Mitch watched the resolve on her face and realized that Alex would go to any length to assure the safety of her team, and the notion didn’t sit well with him.

“How?” he challenged. “Alex, my career has kept me in close quarters with places like that,” his arm swung back towards the underbrush. “They saw us. Trust me. You think we were discreet? Don’t anticipate that.”

There wasn’t even a flinch. Not a single indication that she was afraid. Calm eyes assessed him.

“I am not a fool,” she whispered. “Obviously that structure is not on any of our maps, but I’ve spent the better part of a year down here. I have my suspicions as to who inhabits it. It was a tactical mistake to be in this region. A mistake I am quickly going to resolve.”

“Who do you think it is?”

She shrugged. “Guatemala hosts any number of denizens. Poachers, looters, drug runners. What am I supposed to do, curl up in the fetal position? You don’t make historical discoveries in the fetal position.” She didn’t wait for a response. “When I had a home, I lived in Sarasota. I could go to the 7-Eleven and run into poachers, looters and drug runners in the parking lot.”

“But in that 7-Eleven parking lot you could scream for help.” Mitch looked up at the canopy of trees obscuring the sun. “Here in the jungle, no one is going to hear you.”

“Do you want me to say that I’m scared?” There was an edge to her voice. She glanced into the tunnel Chuck had forged. “Even if I were, I can’t let them see that. They’re depending on me to keep them safe.”

Mitch followed her line of vision through that channel and located the flash of red and gold charging through the brush far ahead.

He turned back to her. “Look at me.”

Alex stared into the jungle.

“Look at me,” he commanded.

Verdant irises slid in his direction.

“Who is going to keep you safe, Alexandra?”

Guest Author - Shirley Wells

2011-08-24T02:12:00.000-07:00

Shirley Wells is a gifted mystery writer for Carina Press and I am absolutely delighted to have her here with us today. Take it, Miss Shirley!

Thank you so much for inviting me to your lovely home, Maureen. It’s looking lovely. You really shouldn’t have gone to so much trouble for me.

Is there an inspiration behind the Dylan Scott character?

It’s funny you should ask. *looks over shoulder* For years, I wrote romance, mainly short stories and serials for the UK magazine market. Then I married, changed my name and turned to crime (writing). I wonder if there’s a connection?

Let me tell you that my first reader, the poor man who has to tell me my story’s the best thing he’s ever read, is my husband. He’d enjoyed my other books which are more police procedural than mystery, and when reading PRESUMED DEAD, the first Dylan Scott mystery, he gave me an accusing look and said “Hey, I uttered those very words.” All innocent, I replied vaguely, “Did you? I knew I’d heard them somewhere.” As he read on, his frown deepened. He read the last page and said “Is Dylan Scott based on me?”. I wiped tears of laughter from my face and said, “Don’t be silly.”

My fantastic Carina Press editor, when describing Dylan Scott on a blog post, said: “Dylan’s a chauvinist and a terrible husband but I’ve never found myself rooting harder for a character”. My husband saw this and before he could utter a word, I laughed like a drain and said, “You see? Dylan Scott is a chauvinist. And a terrible husband. How could he possibly be based on you?”.

I’ll let you into a secret though. *looks over shoulder again* There are a few similarities between the two. And that’s all I’m prepared to say.

You have lived in many diverse locations. Tell us a little about your favorites and why.

I’m a hopeless swimmer and I refuse to go on any boat that has less than five emergency engines, but I love the sea. When I lived in Cyprus, I had sea and gorgeous weather. When I lived in Orkney, I had sea and horrendous weather. I have to say that my heart belongs to Orkney though. I love the islands, the people, the sea, the seals, the puffins, the storms - yes, I even love the weather. One day, I hope to return.

Meanwhile, I live in Lancashire and, although I’m not near the sea, this small corner of England has its own qualities. The people are warm - what you see is what you get - and the scenery is spectacular. Small towns are surrounded by sweeping hills. Tall mill chimneys serve as a reminder of the long-dead cotton industry. My house was built around 1875 from stone quarried less than a mile away and those disused quarries provide great places for hiding the odd body (we’re talking fiction here).

Tell us more about your ‘co-workers’ and how much they have contributed.

I couldn’t cope without them. I have Tilly and Muffet (I know, I know, but he was 9 when we rescued him and I thought it unfair to change his name. He’s known as Mister Magoo, Murphington and various other things.) They keep me company, lie under my desk to keep my feet warm (it gets cold in the UK) and remind me to take breaks from the computer. I do all my best work when I’m walking over the hills with them. I sort out plot problems or characterization niggles when we’re enjoying the fresh air together. If I could teach them to type and make the coffee, my life would be complete.

You are a master in the mystery genre. What is it that draws you to this subject matter?

A master? Oh, I like you. I guess it stems from staying up late as a kid to watch the detective shows my mom enjoyed like Kojak, Columbo or the classic Agatha Christie tales. We were both determined to guess whodunit before the other - or before the detective solved it. So the puzzle appeals to me. Also, I’m fascinated by the darker side of people. What drives respectable Mr. or Mrs Average to commit heinous crimes?

Who mows your lawn?

I’m so glad you asked because, coincidentally, there’s a vacancy for that particular job. There’s also one for cook and cleaner. The pay isn’t great but I’m happy to supply wine, whisky and song (well, maybe not song. Don’t want to put off prospective applicants).

Thank you so much for inviting me to your lovely home, Maureen!

--------------------

Having had several hundred short stories, ten serials and ten novels published, Shirley Wells is finally getting the hang of this writing lark. She’s lived in Orkney, Cyprus and the Cotswolds, and now lives in Lancashire where the Pennines, with their abundance of great places to hide bodies, provide the inspiration for her popular mystery novels. She shares her home with her husband, two dogs, two cats and any other stray animals that fancy being pampered.

For more information, visit her website, follow her on Twitter or find her on Facebook.

Her latest Dylan Scott mystery, DEAD SILENT, is available from Carina Press, Amazon, Barnes & Noble and all good e-book retailers.

Guest Author - Bonnie R. Paulson

2011-08-22T04:35:00.000-07:00

First for me and most importantly, thank you, Miss Maureen, for having me on your blog. I'm so excited to be an author at Carina Press, not only because of the amazing process and brand associated with a Harlequin imprint but also because of the amazing team of people there. This includes the awesome authors!

Breathe Again is a contemporary sweet romance I had a great time writing. I wrote it while I was pregnant with my fourth child and I have to say, the tears flowed.

Maggie Lachlan is struggling to get over the death of her husband. After being overcome by emotion during a shift in the E.R., she's suspended indefinitely. Making things worse, she needs a place to stay after the quick sale of the house she shared with her late husband.

Fortunately, her friend Ryan Stewart offers her a room while she gets her life in order, much to the chagrin of his brother and housemate, Brodan Steele. Brodan doesn't want to like Maggie, not when he questions Ryan’s feelings for her.. But it's hard to deny the attraction he feels for her when she's sleeping under the same roof.

Being so close to Brodan awakens something in Maggie, something she never felt during her marriage. But as long as she's haunted by the past, she can't open herself up to the future...

The cover bowled me over! The Carina Press art team sent a questionnaire with all kinds of questions. I honestly didn't have any idea what to imagine (I'm not right brained at all) but I asked that they keep it sweet. I also emphasized that the story is based in Montana and the skyline of evergreens at dusk was just perfect. I couldn't be more pleased with the cover. Not ashamed to admit I cried a little bit - and I wasn't pregnant.

Given your medical background, have you ever inserted real-life experiences into your books?

The first scene of Breathe Again is derived from a real life experience - in fact, it's what catapulted the story through my fingers.

Acquiring my radiologic technologist degree required interning at local hospitals. Following one particularly fun woman, I stopped in mid conversation when she received a page to rush to the ER for a trauma series. We ran down the stairs, one flight, two flights. A second call came on the radio telling her to redirect, she wasn't to take the call and that the Core (center of the department) would send someone else. When the RT I was with questioned the reason, the dispatcher indicated the person coming in had a self-inflicted gunshot wound to the head. My mentor was devastated. She stopped on the stairs and left me on the landing. I returned to the department and discovered her in the breakroom. She had found her son not long before with the same injuries.

From this encounter, Maggie was born.

That woman's pain truly touched my heart and I wish I could hug her again today.

Does your passion for dirt biking make it into your books?

Oh, girl! Yes, In fact I have a trilogy I'm working on based around those luscious hunky chunks of metal. MMM. I swear a box of Ethel M's Chocolate lemon chifons and a Yamaha 230 would make me VERY happy any moment of any day. Thank you for mentioning dirt bikes. I love them.

You have a co-author now. How is that working out for you?

The co-author situation is working great. She's a CP of mine and a good friend. We decided to work on a non-fiction piece a couple weeks ago, fit it in amongst our other projects, and we've been rolling ever since.

You write both contemporary romances and romantic suspense. Do you find it difficult switching between the genres?

No, I have to say, I came up with my motto based around this exact idea. Romance and Action and Kiss and suspense - There is so much action in romance, suspense or otherwise and so much suspense in kissing with life threatening danger or just anticipation, I love writing both and hence RomAction and KissPense. Sometimes, the danger of the first kiss is the most lethal - and I know this is true after reading Endless Night.

What is next for the talented, Bonnie Paulson?

Talented, you're sweet! I am in the process of submitting another contemporary romance duo as well as slaying revisions and taking names on a trilogy I'm hugely in love with.

I plan on shooting for RWA#12 in Anaheim, CA next year and can't wait to meet more author friends. I've had a blast meeting you and so many others - can't wait to meet you in person, Maureen!

Thank you again so much for the chance to be here. I appreciate your support more than words can say.

I would like to offer a digital copy of Breathe Again to a randomly selected commenter. And a promotional postcard with a discount to a Carina Press purchase to all of your commenters today.

If you're commenting, please include your email so I can email you for your address. Maureen will let me know the winner and I will get that out to you!

Thank you so much again. I had a blast.

I'm so happy you joined us today, Bonnie, and I'm so proud of you and your wonderful novel, Breathe Again.

How did 9/11 impact JUNGLE OF DECEIT?

2011-08-19T10:54:00.000-07:00

You can always count on two things from me−romance and suspense. I take a little turn with JUNGLE OF DECEIT, however. Mayan artifacts? Military compounds? Underground temples? Who stole Maureen and replaced her with Indiana Jones?

Inspiration is always an interesting topic. A few years after 9/11, I read an article that was not even a blip on the news radar−several paragraphs that drew very little attention.

"After being unearthed by grave-robbers in Guatemala, sold by black marketers and shipped in suitcases through Miami, confiscated by Customs and stored in a vault that survived the terrorist attack on the World Trade Center, two dozen pre-Colombian artifacts are finally headed home."

I thought that the historical path of these artifacts could make for a great novel. It began in 1998 as U.S. Customs agents at Miami International Airport searched the suitcases of two New York residents flying home from Guatemala City. In the suitcases they found the artifacts. The couple insisted they had bought them at an open Indian marketplace and the pieces were not valuable. To support their testimony, a few innocent pieces were thrown in which are believed to have acted as decoys.

An authenticating process revealed that many of the pieces were pre-Columbian and the couple lacked the documentation required to remove historically significant items from Guatemala. The artifacts were confiscated and eventually made their way to New York where they were stored in the heavy vault at Custom House, 6 World Trade Center, in the World Trade Center complex.

That is where they were on Sept. 11, 2001.

When the vault was unearthed by crews sifting through the rubble, the artifacts and other items were all intact. The legal battle against the man and woman smuggling in the artifacts collapsed as well, and several years later the artifacts were finally returned to the Guatemalan government.

This tale was stuck in my head while I was working on other books, but a story began to form in the land of fiction known as my brain. JUNGLE OF DECEIT was born. It bears no reference or similarity to the tale above, but sometimes as a writer, inspiration need only strike the tiniest spark and we’re off and running.

Guest Author - Cathy Pegau

2011-08-17T03:00:00.000-07:00

Today we have with us, Cathy Pegau, Carina Press author extraordinaire! Let's get to learn more about this exciting woman.

Tell us about Rulebreaker. Is this a new genre for you, and if so, what attracted you to it?

Rulebreaker is a F/F Science Fiction Romance about a thief, Liv Braxton, who joins her ex husband and his crew on a job to blackmail a mining company. While looking for incriminating files on VP Zia Talbot’s computer, Liv discovers some nefarious deeds are occurring. Zia’s involvement isn’t a surprise, but the feelings Liv starts to have for her are.

This is my first SFR as well as my first F/F as a writer. Up until Rulebreaker, I was working on sword and sorcery-type fantasies and a paranormal women’s fiction. Always something with a little “otherness” to it J What attracts me to SFR, and speculative fiction in general, is the potential to travel out of the ordinary. And I like making my own world rules. Which I try not to break. People get cranky if you do that.

The F/F aspect came about when I was thinking of a love interest for Liv, someone to foil her adherence to the rules. Zia popped into my mind, almost fully formed, and she was exactly what I wanted. It felt right, so I went with it.

The cover is fantastic, can you tell us more about it?

I’m in complete awe of my cover! Croco Design is amazing. That’s absolutely Liv out front. Direct. A little cocky, perhaps. Behind her, it looks like Zia is about to kiss Liv’s shoulder, which happens in a rather sensual scene. On the page, Zia comes off as cool at first, but the artist captured her softer side.

Alaska! Give us some insight into everyday life in Alaska? Do you suffer from long nights in the winter? Does that contribute to the art of writing?

Everyday life here is a lot like everyday life anywhere. Except maybe for the occasional bear. Our town, though not on an island, is only accessible by air or sea, making travel tricky. We can’t just hop in the car and go to the nearest mall or fast food joint, which is great for my bank account and my waistline.

The long, dark nights are beneficial, as are the cool, dreary days. Everyone tends to settle in a little earlier, so the quiet time is great for writing. If I’m not working (I sub at the schools as an aide or teacher), I try to get as much writing done during the day without the kids and husband around.

What is next on your plate? We want more!

I’m prepping another book set on the same planet as Rulebreaker. It features one of the secondary characters who enlists the help of a former drug addict to help him rescue his sister. There’s a third book in my brain, but it needs plot work. Fingers crossed that they get picked up!

I have a few older manuscripts I’d love to revisit and hopefully sell. The aforementioned sword and sorcery fantasies, the paranormal women’s fiction, a shape shifter romance set in Alaska, and there’s a paranormal western that’s been floating in my brain for a bit.

Give us some personal insight into Cathy Pegau. What would you be most afraid of to find in the house, a spider, a snake, a scorpion, a mouse or an aardvark?

The snake or scorpion would be equally terrifying for me. Well, depending on the size/danger of the spider. We have normal-sized spiders here that I tolerate. But snakes and scorpions??? There’s a reason I live in Alaska.

Coffee or Tea?

Coffee first thing, or I’m cranky and useless. I do like a nice cup of tea later in the day. Some Earl Grey, a good book and a storm lashing at the windows while a fire blazes in our wood stove is my idea of a fine afternoon.

Which would drive you crazier, the sound of dripping water, the tapping of a tree on a windowsill or snoring?

Where do you come up with these? J I live in a temperate rainforest, so dripping water and trees smacking into things are standard background noises. The snoring would likely bother me, but I’m a snorer myself so I feel kind of bad saying that. Pot, meet kettle, and all.

Favorite writing companion, animate or inanimate.

I usually have a cup of something at hand and a dog or two at my feet when I’m writing. The cup gives me something to fiddle with as I mull scenes—get up, pour more coffee, sip and think. The dogs tend to interrupt with the burning need to go out or play fetch just as I hit a groove.

I'm so happy Cathy stopped by today. And I'm so excited for her with the release of RULEBREAKER. Please sample a little excerpt of her work below and let her know what a great job she's doing!!

RULEBREAKER Excerpt from Chapter One:

Liv and her partner went in to rob a bank, but were caught up with the rest of the customers when a second gang burst in. Now, they are on the floor with the others…

The gunman didn’t speak. His palm skimmed the length of my leather jacket from shoulder to just above my buttocks. He pressed down, jabbing my pistol into my spine, then moved the tails of the jacket and shirt aside, exposing the waist of my trousers. And the gun. Like he knew it would be there.

My gut quivered. Shit! If he took me for a lawman, I was dead.

“Tsk tsk tsk,” he whispered close to my ear. He eased the gun out, resting it on the bared skin of my back. His gloved fingers slid under my trousers. My muscles stiffened when he tickled my tailbone just below the waistband of my bikini panties. “Got anything else there?”

His hand trailed back up to my gun, and its weight disappeared. The barrel of his rifle nudged the back of my hands. “You’re quite lucky today, amante. Quite lucky.”

Amante. Lover.

Only one person used that word with me, and he’d lost the privilege three years ago.

Tonio Calderon.

Over the indignation and disbelief buzzing in my head, activity from near the vault told me the job was done.

The bastard leaned closer. His breath warmed my ear. “Gotta go, darlin’.”

He dragged a finger up my spine then was gone.

My body shivered in memory of his touch while my mind screamed. No! No no no, double damn the void, NO! This went beyond poor timing.

My ex-husband had just felt me up, taken my gun and spoiled my hit.

Where to find Cathy!

http://www.CathyPegau.com

http://CathyPegau.blogspot.com

Jungle Of Deceit

2011-08-05T06:09:00.000-07:00

Just released!!

JUNGLE OF DECEIT

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?

Excerpt

Port Newark, NJ – April 22^nd

From a hundred yards away, Mitch Hasslet lifted his lens to the aft of the ship and narrowed the viewfinder on the cracked white letters.

Dorian Gray.

Christ, he hoped there was a portrait stored somewhere that flattered this old bucket of bolts. Perhaps in its heyday, the freighter shined with fresh black paint and gleaming brass fixtures−but now it looked like a ghost ship ready to embark on a voyage to a prehistoric island.

On deck, crewmen were busy preparing for their valuable cargo as Mitch swung his camera in the direction of two police cars entering the barricade. In their wake, a trio of armored trucks stamped with the Museum of Historical Art and Antiquities insignia were flanked by two additional patrol units. The entire convoy pulled up idle at the foot of a ramp that led into the bowels of the Dorian Gray.

Mitch’s curiosity flared at the sight of wooden crates towed on mobile skids by the armed security representatives of the HAA Museum. Some of the fanfare in the papers came to mind.

Rare Mayan artifacts. Brutal pieces of art that stirred up controversy and even warranted a disclaimer at the entrance of the museum.

Not for the faint of heart.

Systematically, the shutter clicked as Mitch captured images of the wooden crates hauled like behemoth creatures into a cage.

When four Apache helicopters descended on the pier, Mitch’s camera continued to snap. As if a beehive had split open, a battalion of camouflaged uniforms erupted from the choppers and flooded the dock, encircling the comparatively small police force. Men he had presumed were part of the ship’s crew now drew weapons of their own and joined in the invasion as the explosive percussion of AK-47’s pierced the brackish air.

It happened so fast. Outnumbered, and with only futile attempts to fight back, the police and museum force were circled to the tune of more shots. Mitch flinched at the sudden blare of violence—a sound that plagued him often in his sleep. He searched in vain for a way to stop this madness, and this preoccupation prevented him from detecting the figure behind him.

At the last second he turned and came face to face with a dark complected man with a scar on the corner of his lips. The disfigurement elongated them into a macabre smile.

That Cheshire grin was the last thing Mitch Hasslet saw as the butt of a rifle cracked into his jaw.

***

Waking up on the hot tarmac with a swollen eye and a faulty chin, Mitch lumbered to his car. The guerillas, or whatever the hell they were, were long gone, as well as the shipment from the museum.

He needed to call for an ambulance. Men were down.

Before he could even get his scraped knuckles to cooperate, a black stretch limousine pulled up alongside his car. He jerked back a step, startled to have not heard the motor.

A tinted window slid down with a hiss as the driver, indiscernible behind sunglasses and cap, inquired in a deep voice, “Mr. Hasslet? Mitchell Hasslet from the Chronicle?”

Mitch nodded and rubbed at his jaw.

“Please get in, sir.”

Staring at the sleek limo as if it were an alien craft, Mitch managed a gruff, “Excuse me?”

“Please get in, sir. Mr. Nicholson would like to have a word with you.”

The crazed expression of Jack Nicholson in The Shining flashed in his mind.

“I don’t know a Mr. Nicholson.” Mitch’s voice was hoarse. “But if you have a cell phone in there, can you call 911?”

Sunlight reflected off the driver’s glasses.

“It’s been taken care of, sir. Please get in.”

“Hey, look,” Mitch’s fingers began to work their way around his door handle, “I don’t know how you know my name, but I need to get to the authorities now. There are men that have been shot, there’s no time for this bull—”

The rear window of the limousine rolled down with a soft purr. An indistinct silhouette filled its frame and a disembodied voice called, “Mr. Hasslet, I am Phillip Nicholson, the Director of the Museum of Historical Art and Antiquities. I would really appreciate a moment of your time.”

He paused and added with the benevolence of a holy man, “trust me, the police and ambulances are on their way.”

On cue, sirens could be heard in the distance. Mitch felt his jawbone throb and winced at the glare from the driver’s sunglasses.

The car door opened in silent invitation, and the blast of air conditioning felt like an ice pack against his swollen cheek.

“Please, Mr. Hasslet. We need your help.”

A headache struck with the force of a two-by-four, and inside the limo the sound of ice cubes cascading into a glass posed a greater temptation than Delilah.

Mitch cast one last look across the deserted dock.

Son of a bitch.

With a slight limp, he climbed into the back seat.

Emotional Waves

2011-07-29T18:50:00.000-07:00

If you are looking for an inexpensive getaway to the Caribbean, please consider the .99 cent novella, EMOTIONAL WAVES.

About the book:

Hoping to put her recent car accident behind her, Jill Perry boarded the Neptune Majesty for a week long Caribbean cruise. Brent Coales was aboard the Neptune Majesty with the sole intention of locating the criminal blackmailing Brent’s famous friend.

In a near fatal collision, the paths of Jill and Brent’s lives cross.

Fearing that he has put Jill in danger, Brent knows that he must protect her. But when their relationship turns to passion, he is conflicted between his loyalty to his friend and family, and his feelings for Jill.

An excerpt:

He reached dry sand and set her down on top of the rainbow-colored towel. Jill curled up immediately with her knees tucked under her chin.

“How am I supposed to look at your foot?”

“I didn’t ask you to.” She sounded petulant and seemed to realize it. She extended her leg.

Brent traced the curve of her calf with his hand and tried to lift her foot for inspection, but her defensive posture left him little slack.

“Can you please lie back so I can get a better look?”

Brent couldn’t understand the challenge in her eyes.

After a huffed “Fine”, she reclined against the towel. He lowered his head to inspect the cut on her heel. It wasn't too bad. The saltwater had cleaned it out, and as long as she kept her foot out of the sand until it had time to dry up, she would be fine. He set her leg down on the towel and rolled back on his heels.

“You’ll be okay. Just stay off it−”

His glance scaled her leg and landed on the scar running vertically across her knee. From the raised surface of the score he suspected it was from recent surgery. Prepared to ask her about it, he caught sight of the discolored patch of skin on her stomach.

“Oh God.” He wiped a hand over his face to erase the image.

“I know it’s hideous.” Jill threw her sundress over her knee.

She shuffled on her elbows, hoisting herself up, but Brent placed his palm flat on her abdomen, stilling her.

“Lay back down,” he commanded in a gentle voice.

Beneath his hand, the heat of Jill’s skin tempted him. Her glance fought him but she relinquished and settled back onto her elbows.

He brushed his palm aside to expose the bruise, but he would not leave contact with her flesh.

“I did that to you,” he whispered.

Jill glanced down at her stomach. “It really doesn’t hurt that much.”

The contusion was a purple strip scoring her stomach−a stamp of impact from the railing. The sight of it staggered Brent. He had done this to her. An innocent woman, minding her own business and he had slammed the craziness of his life upon her. Not only was there this visible exclamation mark for all of his stupidity, but there was the fact that she was in danger now due to him. Luis knew her face.

Haunted Houses

2011-07-12T05:24:00.000-07:00

I don't know about you, but scary houses are like a guilty pleasure to me. I like to read about them. I like to write about them. I like to watch movies about them...but I don't ever want to be in one!

As a child I used to watch Creature Feature with Dr. Paul Bearer. He hosted back to back low-budget horrors that would probably make your eyes roll now. But as a child, I would take this blanket my mother had knitted and throw it over my head and watch the movies through the little holes in the yarn. It was safe inside that cocoon. Every now and then Mom would lift the blanket and hand me some juice.

You may not have heard of Dr. Paul Bearer. He was a local guy in the Tampa Bay area...oh, excuse me, his studio was based in St. Creaturesburg, the city you may now refer to as St. Petersburg. He told ridiculously bad jokes and always signed off with his trademark, "I'll be lurking for you."

I don't write horror as it would be very difficult for me to type with that old knitted blanket over my head, but the idea of the big mansion that gives you chills just by looking at it fascinates me to this day. In ENDLESS NIGHT, Wakefield House stars as the third character in the book.

Here is Jake Grogan's first glimpse of the mansion.

Just as he contemplated turning around, the path began to widen. One more incline and he reached a clearing, a plateau that overlooked the Atlantic.

And there sat Wakefield House.

It was hard to see through the swish of wiper blades, but the Victorian mansion was large, guarded in front by the remnants of a wrought-iron gate, the ornamental pattern of metal closely resembling a spiderweb. The remainder of the fence was long gone, making the crooked gateway a droll deterrent. The house itself stood two stories, with a steeply pitched roof accommodating a third floor, atop which sat a cylindrical turret offering a panoramic view from its ring of portholes. Gable windows with black louvered shutters looked like hooded eyes, and the dark-planked stairs to the front door, a yawning mouth, ready to swallow.

As he walked up the path and felt the tug of the coastal wind, he suspected the railing had been yanked from its moorings by nature’s vacuum, that gaping chasm off the cliff that churned with froth and begged to be fed.

RWA 2011

2011-07-03T16:04:00.000-07:00

I have just returned from the Romance Writers of America conference in New York City. To the left are views from my window. Having a view of Times Square is wonderful until about 3 in the morning when the lights are still flashing through your window.

I got a late start at the conference, but I definitely had fun catching up. Here I am with fellow Carina Press author, Adrienne Giordano, and beneath that I am with one of my favorite authors, Kat Martin.

At the Carina Press cocktail party I envied the vivacious Julie Rowe's pink eye shadow, and I envied Jeffe Kennedy that she could wear this outfit and look great in it! :)

More lovely Carina authors joined me. The talented trio of Caridad Pinero, Eliza Knight and Ruth A. Casie.

And then it was time for the Harlequin "Black and White" Ball at the Waldorf Astoria! I felt like I had stepped back in time to an era of big bands and luxurious supper clubs.

Betsy Horvath, Adrienne Giordano and I made it onto the big screen at the Waldorf!

I'll share with you one of the funnier experiences I had at the conference. I stepped into an elevator where a man in gym gear stood quietly in the corner. We traveled in silence for two floors when a very exuberant author joined us, holding up an award. I asked what she won the award for and she gushed, "For erotica. A story based on Lady and the Tramp meeting werewolves." I offered her my hearty congratulations as she disembarked three floors later.

At this point the man standing in the back of the elevator spoke up. "Excuse me," he said. "Did that woman just say she won an award for an erotic novel about Lady and the Tramp meeting werewolves?" To which I replied, "Yes. That is what she said."

The man shook his head and murmured, "Man, I need to start reading more."

What If Your Book Became A Movie?

2011-06-25T05:42:00.000-07:00

One of the toughest interview questions for me is, "If your book became a movie, what actor would play your hero?"

First, you'd have to pick me up off the floor if my book were ever to be made into a movie. After I stopped hyperventilating at the thought, then we can tackle the question at hand. I've seen other authors talk about having an actor/actress pictured in their mind when they write their characters. That said, it's pretty easy for them to pick the actor to star in the role.

My heroes and heroines are born in my head, and I see them, but they seem rather ethereal to me. As if they are not from the real world-as if it would never be possible to notice them walking on the streets because they live in a parallel universe.

People have told me that Brett Murphy in WIDOW'S TALE is the spitting image of Hugh Jackman. After they point that out, I can see the resemblance. And actually I remember thinking that Serena Murphy from the same book looked just like Anna, one of the dancers on Dancing With the Stars.

Many people have pointed out that Megan Summers as pictured on the cover of ENDLESS NIGHT looks like Eliza Dushku.

But still, I could never come up with these associations. So if you see an interview with me and that, "Who would play..." question comes up, please understand my fumbling answer.

Does anyone else have problems with that question? If you have read either of these books, do you have suggestions on actors/actresses?

Sample Sunday - ENDLESS NIGHT

2011-06-19T16:35:00.001-07:00

From the romantic thriller, ENDLESS NIGHT

Closing the trunk and hoisting it under her arm, she reached out to throw the latch open as the door ripped from her hands and the Atlantic screamed at her.

She screamed back.

Even with the collar pulled up over her ears, the sounds of the tempest assaulted her. In the wind, she heard the ghostly woman crying, the phantom that besieged her at night. Outside of Wakefield’s dark chambers, the cry took on a hollow sound, like a woeful moan meant to lure souls toward its source, the yawning black shadows beyond the cliff’s edge. Megan also heard the anxious murmur of ice and snow, like a thousand voices whispering about her, berating her, cajoling her. Amidst their dissonance, one voice broke through.

"Margaret."

Her body jerked and the radio fell to the ground. It wasn’t the storm that called her name. She spun around and instinctively crouched, prepared to attack, but she did not have her trusty GLOCK. She had nothing but her bare hands and a flashlight.

“Margaret,” that chilled voice called again.

Megan whirled and saw his outline. Night swelled into the menacing form of a man. There were no distinct features, only a shadow—a frightening profile that looked as if the storm had taken its vivacity and breathed life into this very monster.

ENDLESS NIGHT - Amazon Kindle

ENDLESS NIGHT - Carina Press

ENDLESS NIGHT - Bloopers!

2011-06-12T14:25:00.000-07:00

Movies have bloopers...and so do books! I thought I would share some of the ENDLESS NIGHT outtakes with you.

Original line:

He hooked one ankle over the other and leaned back against the dryer, watching the red digital numbers decrease.

Editor's feedback:

If he is leaning back against the dryer, how can he read the digital display?

My rebuttal:

He is from the planet Zule and has a 360 degree ocular capacity.

What made it into the book:

The dungeon-like atmosphere smothered any desire Jake still felt. Leaning his hip against the dryer, he watched the red digital numbers on the washer decrease.

Original line:

Jake eyed the cover. "Nuclear bombs in North Korea."

Editor's feedback:

Is this headline current enough?

My rebuttal:

Jake eyed the cover. "Lindsay Lohan goes to jail."

What made it into the book:

Jake eyed the cover. “The oil spill off the California coast?”

Another debate in the book was over a simple sentence that read, He stood on the deck.

I was schooled on the differences between a porch, patio, deck, veranda and balcony, and the final reference that made it into the book was, porch.

A reference to Wakefield House that didn't make the final cut:

The sinister shadow of Wakefield House loomed before them like a colossal gargoyle perched on the cliff, ready to launch at the Jeep with its talons and soar off into the black abyss with them clutched in its grasp.

Guest Romantic Suspense Author - TONI ANDERSON

2011-06-09T08:22:00.000-07:00

I am in author awe today because I have a special guest...Romantic Suspense author, Toni Anderson.

You have a new book coming out with Carina Press. Can you tell us about EDGE OF SURVIVAL?

I’m so excited about this book. I absolutely love my hero, Daniel Fox (a British ex-SAS soldier turned helicopter pilot—who’s dark and brooding, in dire need of redemption) and my heroine, Cameran Young (a fish biologist who suffers from diabetes—she’s sparkling and bubbly and a real fighter). The story is set in Northern Labrador and the heroine is doing a research study on fish migration—an Environmental Impact Assessment—in one of the most remote regions on earth. The study she’s conducting is one I actually did in 1996. I was flown all over the place in helicopters, dodging bears, and sleeping onboard an icebreaker every night. It was one of the most fascinating experiences of my life and I am thrilled I could use it in a novel.

This is my first military hero as opposed to law enforcement. That changes the dynamics around the crime—a murder—because the hero doesn’t care about solving the who, he just doesn’t want anyone else getting nailed on his watch. I think one of the things I like most about the story is the contrast of such strong personalities falling in love. And there’s a fabulous supporting cast too, including some unusual four-legged varieties.

This is the first romance I’ve read that features a diabetic heroine and I’m intending to donate some of the money to research into juvenile diabetes.

You seem to favor romantic suspense, but I have seen you throw in some paranormal elements into your books, such as STORM WARNING? Are you dedicated to a genre or do you find inspiration strikes you in many forms?

Inspiration strikes in many forms, but my stories are always essentially Romantic Suspense. I’m drawn to dangerous situations and intrigue and love writing about them. But to find a story emotionally satisfying, I need my Happy Ever After.

So, I always write RS stories but the emphasis can change. Sometimes it’s a mystery or ‘whodunit’. Other times it’s more about ‘what happens next?’ and ‘how the hell are the hero and heroine going to get out of this?’ To me, STORM WARNING wasn’t a paranormal story as defined by today’s publishing standards. It was more an old fashioned gothic ghost story. So there may be hints of other genres in my writing (mystery, paranormal), but I hope the essentials of the Romantic Suspense genre are there along with something a little bit extra—a fabulous location.

You recently received ‘the call’ for EDGE OF SURVIVAL? Does that still give you the same thrill as the first call?

I have never been physically ‘called’ with the good news and I feel so…cheated? LOL. I’ve sold six times now, the first two books to a publisher that went KABOOM! When I sold to Carina Press I was in the UK, so Angela James emailed me on Christmas Eve. To be honest I still get the same feeling of ‘Oh my God, they want to contract my book’ every single time J. It’s an amazing feeling!

What is next for Toni Anderson?

Right now, I’m writing another SAS hero who gets involved with a snow leopard biologist in the Wakhan Corridor and unearths a decades old spy ring. I have several other books planned—another Romantic Mystery set in Bamfield, Vancouver Island, another story set in Scotland, and another set in Brittany, France, where I spent 3 months last year.

Where can we find out more about you and your books?

My books are available as ebooks from Carina Press, Amazon.com, Amazon.co.uk, BooksOnBoard, Barnes & Noble, Kobo and many other online retailers. HER SANCTUARY is also available in print from The Wild Rose Press, and STORM WARNING & SEA OF SUSPICION are also available as audiobooks from audible.com.

I have a website (http://tonianderson.shawwebspace.ca), and a blog (http://tonianderson.blogspot.com), and I’m on Facebook as both me (http://www.facebook.com/toniannanderson) and with an author page with information about my books (http://www.facebook.com/pages/Toni-Andersons-books/153356538022559), and I’m a twitterer—Lord, do I ever twitter (http://twitter.com/#!/toniannanderson) AND I have an occasional newsletter (http://groups.yahoo.com/group/Toni_Anderson_Newsletter/join). It’s hard to avoid me on the net J

I’m also involved in a wonderful group blog ‘NOT YOUR USUAL SUSPECTS’ that you may have heard of J

Thanks so much for having me here, Maureen.

Thank you for being here, Toni. Now go write!!

Guest Author - Pauline Barclay

2011-06-06T03:00:00.000-07:00

We have a special guest joining us today all the way from the Canary Isles! The lovely and talented, Pauline Barclay, author of Sometimes It Happens.

In Sometimes It Happens… Doreen Wilkinson wins the lottery. Is there an inspiration behind this storyline?

Nothing is ever what it seems and Doreen Wilkinson certainly found that out after she won the lottery. Doreen is an ordinary woman to whom the extraordinary happens. A hard working cleaning lady, Doreen struggled to make ends meet as she brought up her only daughter alone. Then she wins the lottery, millions of pounds. She is catapulted into a new life, a life she has no idea about and worse, it is not at all what she had been expecting. Doreen quickly finds out that the rich and the poor are poles apart as she and her daughter take a holiday at the fabulous Villas Bonitas.

You have lived many diverse locations. Tell us a little about your favorites and why

I was brought up in Yorkshire, then through work my family moved to Suffolk, after marrying my husband, worked also took both of us to another location. We moved to Surrey, then to Holland. We now live in Lanzarote in the Canary Isles. I love all the places we have lived and we’ve made life long friends along the way. I love were we live now, it is relatively unspoilt. The roads are empty most of the time. Stress is not a word used often, though the bureaucracy can get you down, otherwise it is just a great place to be. Of course I love the all year round sunshine!

The cover of Sometimes It Happens is beautiful. Can you tell us more about it?

The book is about a luxurious holiday set in an exotic location, lots of champagne is drunk and the sun always shines. It’s a happy book with lots of laughter. I asked Cathy Helms from Avalon Graphic in North Carolina, USA to design the cover and after telling her a little about the novel this is what she came up with. I love it, it says so much about the book.

Tell us about your four-legged companions!

Apart from loving them to pieces, they are two rescues doggies. Not sure of their breeds, our little one is a terrier, a bit of Yorkshire and Highland terrier in her. She is now nine and half years old and has lived with us for the last four years. Our other one is, we believe, a Cockapoo and we have had him just one year and he will be two in July. They give so much love I find it incomprehensible that anyone could have hurt them. As I write I have Barney at my feet and Poppy in her cozy Igloo the other side of my desk.

What can we look forward to from you?

As well as Sometimes It Happens… I have two other books published, Magnolia House and Satchfield Hall. I have started writing my fourth novel, but with all the work needed to market my latest book, it is not getting the attention is deserves…but it will!

Where can we find Pauline Barclay?

I have a web site www.paulinebarclay.co.uk

I have a Blog http://paulinembarclay.blogspot.com

I’m on Facebook http://www.facebook.com/paulinembarclay

I’m On Twitter @paulinembarclay

And I’m also on Goodreads

A huge thank you to Maureen for inviting me here to meet some of her friends, I feel very honored. Maureen is a terrific person and I am proud to call her my friend – thank you! Wishing you great success with Endless Night, it is my next read! x

Guest Mystery Author - Vicki Tyley

2011-06-01T04:00:00.000-07:00

Today, I am happy to have with us, mystery and suspense author, Vicki Tyley!

1. You have had quite an eclectic career. I have seen your IT experience work its way into your books. How much of your diverse occupations do you tap into when writing?

Writing from experience is certainly easier, and it does add an authenticity that no amount of research could replicate. However, I also like to mix up the occupations in my books. My main characters have held down a broad range of jobs – journalist, IT systems analyst, stockbroker, nurse, credit officer, web developer, advertising executive, private investigator, personal assistant, police officer, property developer, graphic designer, PR consultant, financial planner, recruitment consultant, real estate agent – many of which I have little or limited practical knowledge of. Which means I get to tap into other people’s experiences and add to my own – all part of the fun of writing.

2. Your first novel, THIN BLOOD, was named as an Amazon Customer Favorite of 2010. How proud were you of your achievement?

Words can’t describe how proud I was. That’s once I’d picked myself up off the floor and made sure my eyes weren’t deceiving me. I still can’t quite believe that Thin Blood made it onto the list, joining fellow indies Karen McQuestion, D.B. Henson, and Christian Cantrell. Not to mention such greats as Harlan Coben, Lee Child, James Patterson, Janet Evanovich, Nora Roberts, Tess Gerritsen, Jodi Picoult, and Sandra Brown.

One hundred books. Four indie authors. One unbelievably proud Australian debut novelist.

3. I understand Thin Blood is now available as an audio book. It sounds silly, but how does it feel to hear your book? Did you have any participation in the narrating process?

The first time I heard my words narrated by a professional, I couldn’t stop grinning. The narrator brought my story to life, exceeding every expectation and giving it another whole dimension. To say that I’m delighted with the production would be an understatement.

I was involved in the narration process insomuch that a number of narrators auditioned and I chose the voice I thought suited the story best. After that, it was simply a matter of reviewing each track for pronunciation or other issues. A seamless process, for my part.

4. What is next for Vicki Tyley?

My most recent novel, Bitter Nothings, is with my agent. I realize many think I’m mad to pursue a traditional publishing contract in these times of technological change, but that’s okay. Sanity is overrated.

In the meantime, prompted by a reader, I’ve revisited and am now rewriting a manuscript I’d previously consigned to the bottom drawer. Changing the storyline to introduce a new antagonist is proving a challenge, but it’s also been a good learning opportunity.

Thank you again for stopping by, Vicki. You are always welcome here.

Places where we can find the wonderful, Ms. Tyley!

My website: www.vickityley.com

Thin Blood Kindle: http://www.amazon.com/Thin-Blood-ebook/dp/B003JTHBL0

Thin Blood audio details: http://springbrookaudio.com/2011/04/24/thin-blood-by-vicki-tyley/

Kindle eBooks: Customer Favorites of 2010 http://amzn.to/ajQzhx

Sunday Sample - ENDLESS NIGHT

2011-05-29T16:06:00.000-07:00

This Sunday I am offering up a sample from the romantic thriller,

ENDLESS NIGHT

Jake reached into the pocket of his jacket and extracted a card. “Anyway, if you should ever come across anything—” his voice dropped off, “—could you call me?”

He didn’t wait for her response. He opened the door, eyed the sky warily and then squared his shoulders and started down the steps.

“Wait!”

My God, what was she thinking?

Megan watched Jake pause at the foot of the steps. He turned around and looked up at her. Stoic in the downpour, he waited. With rain dripping onto his black eyelashes, he blinked away the assault.

Something about Jake tempted her with haunting images of pleasure she would never be privy to.

Whoever Jake Grogan was—whether he was innocent or a foe, Megan knew that she would not let him cross that bridge in this weather.

She had the gun.

She would be safe.

He waited for her to pronounce sentence.

“Come inside,” she whispered.

The steady stream of rain made it impossible for her voice to carry, but he must have read her lips.

For every step he climbed, Jake held her eyes. He reached the top and loomed a head above her, looking down with dark force. Paralyzed by that compelling whirlpool of colors, all Megan could do now was pray she made the right decision.

ENDLESS NIGHT at Carina Press

ENDLESS NIGHT at Amazon

ENDLESS NIGHT as Barnes and Noble

Make a right at the "happy people"

2011-05-26T05:41:00.000-07:00

There are very few romance writers who become authors the moment they step out of school. We have all had or still have the classic "day job." My "day job" required extensive travel throughout the country. At first that might sound glamorous...but alas, it was not. What I was able to obtain from all those years of trekking was the knack for following directions.

The GPS and any sort of navigation assistant are all relatively new aids. Before that, for the most part, I relied on verbal directions provided by the company I was going to visit. After all, who better to guide you than the people you are going to see? My travels often took me to every industrial park in the nation, so directions were often prefaced with, "cross the railroad tracks, and-". To this day, every time I cross over a railroad track I expect to turn into an industrial park immediately afterwards.

With verbal directions comes the inevitable "lost in translation" syndrome. I have ended up in some rather unsavory locations due to miscommunication. Yet, on the other hand, some people go that extra step to give you a complete narrative on how to locate their building. For example, I was traveling to Calgary airport and the person told me that once I reached the end of the airport road I should make a right at the "happy people." Naturally, I had no idea what that meant, but I had my eyes glued for happy people.

At the end of the road were three giant water towers and on them were painted a host of people from all walks of life, smiling and waving. Happy people. I grinned and made my right turn.

Does anyone still rely on verbal directions, and if so, do you have any tales to share?

Interview with romantic suspense author, Norah Wilson

2011-05-23T04:54:00.000-07:00

Thanks for having me, Maureen! Love hanging with a fellow romantic suspense writer. Speaking of which, the cover for your Carina Press May title rocks!

You have been nominated for multiple Golden Heart awards. Did this prestige open up any doors for you?

NW: That’s right. I finalled in RWA’s Golden Heart contest three years running, with three different manuscripts. And yes, it certainly did help open doors. I can’t say that it landed me an agent or a publishing contract (both came later), but the level of interest my queries attracted skyrocketed.

Dorchester’s “New Voice in Romance” contest certainly presented an opportunity for you. Please tell us about LAUREN’S EYES.

NW: LAUREN’S EYES is the book that won Dorchester Publishing’s New Voice in Romance contest in 2003. Actually, I shared that title with Kate Lyon, whose time travel TIME’S CAPTIVE tied with mine for top spot. The prize was a publication contract for each of us.

BTW, getting published rendered me ineligible for the Golden Heart, or I’d probably still be entering! I have to say that each year I finalled, I met such a crop of amazing, supportive writers – you being one of them. I hated to give that up. It’s an experience I would wish for all aspiring writers.

Okay, back to LAUREN’S EYES. At the time, I was a feeling a little discouraged about my chances for publication with the straight romantic suspense I’d been writing. It seemed to me that “babies, brides and cowboys” were carrying the day, so I quite cynically set out to write a cowboy book, the only one of the three I thought I could pull off. I also decided that it needed to have a paranormal twist (a psychic heroine), since paranormal was beginning to dominate bookstore shelves. But as soon as I started researching my subject, I fell in love with cowboys. I also discovered the PBR – Professional Bull Riding – and found myself glued to the television whenever it was on the sports channel. I was a convert! I hope that love shows when people read the book.

I like your genre reference of “Romantica” for your free novella, “NEEDING NITA”. Will you be or have you written more of this unique sensual romance line?

NW: Thanks. I wanted to make sure readers appreciated that the novella (which I used as a teaser or sampler to try to entice readers to check out my sensual romantic suspenses) was unquestionably a romance, not erotica. Not that I have any difficulty with erotica. But NEEDING NITA just wasn’t that. What it has been, though, is enormously popular! Judging by the numbers from official channels, it’s been downloaded well over 20,000 times. And I think it’s helped attract some readers to the Serve and Protect series it was designed to promote.

I do have another book planned for this series, but it’s sort of on the back burner, given the significant other writing commitments I have with writing partners (YA paranormal and dystopian romance). I hope to get back to it soon, though, for those fans who keep asking for it. As I’ve discovered, there really is a certain market for this kind of book, which I would describe as romantic suspense, heavy on the romance, as opposed to a lot of the “bigger” romantic suspenses that tend to be more suspense than romance.

I see you are introducing a Vampire series. Is there any news on a release for these?

NW: Yes, my vampires are coming very soon! I hope to have THE MERZETTI EFFECT and NIGHTFALL up by the end of May as Indie titles. I absolutely love these stories, and I’ll be thrilled to finally share Delano and Aiden with the world. I don’t have an official release date, but you can bet that I’ll be blogging, tweeting and Facebooking the news when they hit stores!

Tell us about Chloe!

NW: Ah, Chloe. She’s my rotti-lab mix. I’ve posted a lot about her recently, since she had to have the dew claw on her front left leg removed. She’d injured it a number of times until it stood out at right angles from her leg and was getting snagged on everything, causing her excruciating pain. Of course, the post-surgical recovery has been an adventure. She had to endure the “cone of shame” for ten days, to prevent her from licking the surgical site. The cone itself might have been the most stressful part for her. She thought she’d done something wrong and was being punished, I’m sure. But now the sutures are out, the cone is retired, and she’s rapidly returning to normal. Normal being a giant, 80-pound scaredy-cat who would run home and leave me to face alone any threat we might encounter on our woods walks. Including a particularly scary Pomeranian.

Thank you again for being here, Norah.

You can learn more about the lovely and talented Norah Wilson at www.norahwilsonwrites.com

Interview with romantic suspense author, WYNTER DANIELS

2011-05-13T09:41:00.000-07:00

Today we have a wonderful treat. We have with us the gifted Romantic Suspense and Erotic Romance author, Wynter Daniels!

First, thanks so much to Maureen for having me here.

Maureen: I am intrigued by your cover. Tell us more about the cabin and its role in PROTECTIVE CUSTODY.

Wynter: After Megan witnesses a murder, the killer is after her. So her ex, a PI, whisks her off into hiding. He finally takes her to his family's cabin in the woods in rural north Florida. Big things happen at the cabin, but I don't want to reveal what. You'll have to read the book;-)

Maureen: PROTECTIVE CUSTODY is a romantic suspense novel. Was this always your genre, and if not, what made you switch to it?

Wynter: Before I write romantic suspense, I wrote contemporary erotic romance and before that, straight contemporary romance under the name Dara Edmondson. The journey has been a real learning experience but I find I enjoy the twists and turns of romantic suspense the best.

Maureen: You are an accomplished author of many wonderful books.

Wynter: Thank you. That's sweet of you to say. I hang many of my book covers around my desk in my home office and I am running out of space. At last count I've published about 20. Hard to believe it's that many, but I hope someday to pass the 50 book mark.

Maureen: Does ‘the call’ still give you a thrill?

Wynter: Always. Of course, that very first publication (which was a contest win with a then new e-publisher) was incredibly exciting. After that, getting my first erotic romance published, then moving to Ellora's Cave and most recently to Carina Press. All those milestones gave me that huge thrill. Signing with my agent was a biggie, too.

Maureen: What is next for Wynter Daniels?

Wynter: I have several projects in the works. I am currently working on the second in a series of novellas revolving around a private security agency, brothers who provide protection to rich and famous clients. I am also plotting out a hot series of contemporary romances.

Protective Custody – Available from Carina Press

Witness to a murder, but no one will believe her…

Shocked by the brutal crime she witnesses through the window of her small office, Megan Jackson calls the police and is devastated when they question the truth of her story. With no body and no evidence of a crime, she’s written off as a nutcase.

Megan suspects the killer saw her face. Terrified, she calls the only person she can trust—her ex-boyfriend and former police officer, Will McCoy.

Despite a devastating breakup, Will jumps at the chance to help the woman who broke his heart. When the killer ramps up the stakes, Will is forced to take her into hiding—where the passion they once shared reignites, deeper and hotter than ever. But can Will keep Megan alive long enough to win back her heart?

Wynter Daniels lives in Central Florida with her husband of more than twenty years and their two nearly grown children. They are all the slaves of two very demanding cats. After careers in marketing and the salon industry, Wynter’s wicked prose begged to be set free. She writes for several publishers including Carina Press,
Ellora’s Cave, Loose Id. Join her Facebook fan page HERE and her Twitter page HERE. She loves to hear from readers, but only if it’s good.

Buy Protective Custody HERE.

Find Wynter on the web at http://www.wynterdaniels.com /

Visit her blog at http://wynterdaniels.blogspot.com/

Dirty Dancing

2011-05-09T05:27:00.000-07:00

It was just a little over a week before "release day" for ENDLESS NIGHT when I escaped into the wilderness for a couple days...out of internet range. Gasp! I went to Lake Lure, North Carolina which many may not realize (myself included) was the film location for Dirty Dancing. The cabin I rented even came with a complimentary Dirty Dancing DVD which I absolutely had to watch. Something about the atmosphere in this charming area brought that whole movie back, and even as you sit there listening to corny lines like, "I carried a watermelon" and the famous, "Nobody puts Baby in a corner." I smiled like a school girl. So, pretty much that inane smile stayed glued on my face the whole time.

Above you will see just one set of steps I climbed to get to Chimney Rock's peak. I have now been home two days and my legs are still on the mend. Below you will find a picture of the peak, and note that flimsy little staircase to reach it. Fortunately as I was climbing those stairs I was not viewing them from this angle or I would have started panicking.

But the view from the top was worth it, and again a smile lit up my face. Or it could have also been the 70mph winds blowing my cheeks back.

After braving the hike to the top, did I call it a triumph and stop? No. I then took yet another 45 minute trail to reach the falls below. These waterfalls were used in a scene from Last of the Mohicans. There's something about walking through the woods and hearing the powerful sound of water nearby, but not seeing it. And then suddenly you emerge from your 45 minute hike to see a splendid view like this. Of course down below you'll find that I am crouching because the legs are starting to betray me. Cursed legs!

And just when you thought I couldn't possibly exert more physical effort, I kayaked about a five mile round trip because I was looking for the steps where Jennifer Grey dances to Wipeout. Fortunately you don't see any pictures of me reenacting that scene. Funny enough, they actually have boat tours there to reenact the "jump" scene in the lake.

All in all, it was a wonderful trip and I would definitely go back there. It brings back the charm of a different era.

I guess you can say, "I had the time of my life." :)

Vacation

2011-05-03T04:18:00.000-07:00

There are certain vacations that no matter how old you are you are morphed right back into childhood. If you take a trip to the Caribbean-or any exotic island, that is an adult vacation...unless you were lucky enough to have experienced these as recurrent destinations from your youth.

But destinations like Disney World, or camping in the mountains...no matter how old you are, these vacations transport you back in time, and the thrills you feel now are no different than the very first time you experienced them.

I am going to the mountains tomorrow, and I guarantee you that for three days my legs are going to work with the superhuman strength of a child. I will be able to climb and climb and climb just because there's something ahead that I want to see. I don't know what it is, but I know that I have to climb to get there and that once I do, it's going to be beautiful. Those were the thoughts going through my head as a youth, and I know the same thoughts will motivate me again tomorrow.

Before setting out in the morning, I fully intend to pack my little lunch to take into the woods just as my mother used to do. Somehow, sitting on a boulder, eating a sandwich, is the coolest thing in the world. An adult vacation would be much more civil and lunch would include Pina Coladas in front of the pool with a gorgeous waiter named, Francesco. But not tomorrow. Not this vacation. This vacation is for Maureen of the past. Tomorrow, Maureen of the past will see a waterfall and her jaw will drop open as if its the first time she has ever witnessed nature showcasing its beauty.

What are some vacations that bring you back to childhood?

Consolation Prize

2011-04-29T07:22:00.000-07:00

Life does not always come with a consolation prize.

My dear grandmother who is turning 93 in two weeks was recently playing 50/50 at the "Seniors" complex. They called out the number and she looked at her ticket with a delighted grin. Grabbing her cane and ambling up to the front of the room (Grandma moves quickly when it comes to winning money), she noticed that a woman was already standing at the table. She ignored the woman and handed over her ticket with the air of one who is about to become a milllionaire (the prize was $15.00). The man behind the table took her ticket and looked at the number and politely said, "I'm sorry, the winning number is 5535, you have 5536."

Grandma looked at the ticket and then glanced at the woman next to her that was claiming the $15.00 pot. Grandma looked at her ticket again in disbelief and turned around, moving very slowly back to the table. She later called me and cried, "I felt so bad."

I know, I know. What a terrible tale I am sharing, but I did have a point to make. Life doesn't always hand out consolation prizes....but I do! On May 17th I will be giving away a copy of ENDLESS NIGHT on Carina Press's blog in celebration of my release day. If you are not lucky enough to win that copy, you have a second opportunity here to win one. On May 17th I will select a random commenter from this blog to win an ePub or PDF version of my romantic suspense novel, ENDLESS NIGHT.

Grandma is excluded from this contest. She already has a copy. :)

Romulan Escapes

2011-04-17T07:31:00.000-07:00

In my "April Fool's" blog on Not Your Usual Suspects, I introduced a genre called Romulan, "Romance under land". Though the genre is fictitious, I was surprised to find that there is a market in this strange world of ours for romance at the center of the earth.

In Sweden, the Sala Silvermine offers a romantic suite nestled 155 meters underground. It takes a 4 minute elevator ride to get down to the mine.Tucked away in a cavern that offers a banquet hall, this underground suite is warmed up to 18 degrees from its default temperature of 2!

No folks, this one isn't an April Fool's joke. This is a true resort, and it does manage to post a disclaimer, "Not recommended if you suffer from claustrophobia."

Romulan is making it's mark on the world. :)

Hero or villain?

2011-04-12T09:06:00.000-07:00

We all love the hero, but it's just us here now...admit it...isn't the villain a little more fascinating sometimes?

For example, in Gladiator. Yes, Russell Crowe was an incredible hero and he earned an Oscar for his efforts. Yet, how could you not help but to be riveted by the evil and deranged performance of Joaquin Phoenix? Perhaps Gladiator is a poor example because the hero's character carries with him enough pain and trauma to flesh him out as significantly as the villain. But many times we can cheer on a hero, only to find that he is nowhere near as intriguing as whatever makes the 'bad guy' tick.

In Heat, two masters of the art face off. Al Pacino and Robert DeNiro. Is there a hero and villain in that duo? Yes, the characters reflected that, but as a viewer you just strapped yourself into the roller coaster and watched these actors execute a dance of talent that you never wanted to end.

Can we not make the argument that Darth Vader far exceeded the attraction of Luke Skywalker? Was Heath Ledger's Joker not more fascinating than Batman himself?

I am a romance author. I love my heroes, and I always want them to win, but the villain will continue to fascinate me. The villain will make my mind work extra hard to analyze his motivations. Without the villain, my hero ceases to exist.

Meteor Strategy

2011-04-05T15:34:00.000-07:00

When I used to train people how to use the software our company wrote, my example in crisis recovery was always, "What if a meteor crashed through the roof and landed on your computer...?"

The meteor strategy works for me in writing as well. If I'm standing at the crossroads, a gaping intersection with street signs that say, "WRITER'S BLOCK" in each direction...I have no choice but to resort to the meteor strategy. What if a meteor were to fall down from the sky and crash onto my current scene? What would my characters do? How would they react to this crisis? How would they recover?

An example. My characters are trapped in a remote outpost with a jeep stuck in the mud, and a steady rainfall thwarting all their efforts. To make matters worse, they have run out of things to say to each other, and honestly, I don't know where they will go if the jeep gets out of the mud. I have no clue, and sadly, I don't particularly care.

BOOM! A meteor falls from the sky and crashes just a few short feet from the immobile jeep.

What are they going to do?
How are they going to recover?

The meteor has caused a gaping crater in the earth into which all the water is now pooling, reducing the viscous substance that is locking the jeep in place. Across this crater my characters look at each other in disbelief. "My God," they say, "a meteor has just crashed at our feet." In that moment the man notices that the rainfall has made the woman's white shirt a diaphanous sheet of silk, and he charges the circumference of the crater and takes her into his arms and kisses her passionately.

Yes, this is all completely absurd, but what have I done here? I have taken a meteor and hurled it into the scene, which has allowed me to step outside the box and look at what is happening between my characters and their environment.

Apply the meteor strategy at home. The kids are yelling. Your husband is on the cellphone because his work place misses him desperately in the half hour it has been since he left there. The dog just coughed up the remnants of a can of Play-Doh, and you realize you never started the timer on the stove.

Stop and yell out, "What would you all do if a meteor crashed on the table right now?"

I guarantee you they will all stop and look at you, and yes for once...for one unbelievably powerful second, you will command their attention. Seize the moment! Form the next scene!

Let's Do Some Fantasizing!

2011-03-22T13:38:00.000-07:00

Let's escape for a few moments and pretend that our bank accounts are like swimming pools undulating with 100 dollar bills. Where would we go? If we could pick a dream vacation, where would it be?

Would we go to Tahiti and sleep in a bungalow where the waiter rows up to your steps in a canoe to serve you breakfast and mimosas every morning?

Do we want to hole up in a Swiss Chalet and live out our fantasy to yodel from a hilltop?

Would we visit the French Riviera and take up yachthing? Or see if we can locate any royalty that is still single?

Maybe we would like to live out the movie, City Slickers and try our luck at a dude ranch.

Or quite possibly that pool full of currency is not even necessary. Our dream vacation may very well be sitting out back and waiting for us every night.

Sample Sunday - ROGUE WAVE

2011-03-20T11:21:00.000-07:00

Pain pounded Nick’s head and took a trek down the right side of his body. He was paralyzed, consciousness as elusive as the gulp of water he prayed for.

In the last moments of lucidity, Nick was aware of her presence. The scent of jasmine filled the damp ravine. Her fragrance. He called out, but the hollow sound echoed back at him with a mocking timbre.

Then, for just a moment he felt a shadow fall across his battered body. He forced his eyes open. She was there, and she smiled, a divine goddess offering him a glimpse of salvation.

But she walked away.

ROGUE WAVE - .99 cents

Men Who Write About Assassins and Romance

2011-03-14T04:51:00.000-07:00

Today I have a guest author with us. A man who writes about an immortal knight, assassins, and romance. I give you, Brendan Carroll.

1.) You write mainstream with a heavy emphasis on a male audience as reflected in the title of the first of your Red Cross of Gold series, "The Knight of Death", and yet readers are pleasantly surprised to find that the book is infused with romance. What inspired that mix?

I think that life naturally requires a mix of emotional states in a novel of any genre if it is to be believable in the least. The female audience is as important to me as the male audience (if not more important). It is my considered opinion after many years of studying the human condition, that interactions between men and women are the driving force in all levels of society from the highest to the lowest. (And I do not discount the alternative lifestyles of any community in this statement. The same applies to any situation that includes love and/or mutual attraction between individuals.) If art imitates life and vice versa, then surely male authors cannot neglect the influence that women/romance/love or the lack of love has on their characters. I have read a number of works by male authors in diverse genres from fantasy to techno-thrillers wherein the author neglects to mention the romantic involvements of their male characters and I find them lacking a sense of familiarity normally offered by real life situations. No matter how manly the hero, he is somehow less so if he has no romance in his life even if it is a broken heart.

2.) After mainstream, one could nearly place you in a hybrid genre of romantic suspense. Would you agree or is that too excessive?

Such a placement would not bother me at all. Romantic suspense is a legitimate genre that sells quite well and has a huge fan base. I love having people (of both the male and female races LOL) read and enjoy my writing. I try to include something that appeals to everyone: young,/old, pagan/Christian, boy/girl, mortal/immortal. My readers have included men from 18 to 80 as well as women in the same age group. Strangely enough most everyone falls into that age bracket… weird, eh?

3.) Do you have any feedback as to your ratio of readers as being male or female?

I guess I sort of answered that question under #2 above. I have only feedback from reviews (most are done by women it seems) and the people I have spoken with in email, Facebook and various forums such as Kindleboards, Goodreads and Twitter. If I had to guess, I would actually think that my female fans outnumber the males.

4.) In Tempo Rubato you change the formula readers have come to know and placed us into a world where the thought of time travel seems entirely conceivable. What made you travel down this alternate path?

Tempo Rubato was actually written about four years prior to the first book of the Assassin Chronicles. It was actually a tribute to Wolfgang Mozart that I wrote after studying his works and biography during a low point in my life. Once I had read about his trials and tribulations, I felt much better and considered myself lucky. I actually feel like I may owe some part of my life to the composer in some way. It seemed that he reached from beyond the grave and touched my life in a personal manner, thus the time-travel aspect in the book. I know that this is just fantasy on my part and it would not stand to reason that even if Mozart does have the capability of reaching out to the living over 200 years after his death in the physical or spiritual sense, he would hardly have chosen me! On the other hand, Mozart reaches out to all of us by way of his legacy, his music and it is this sublime connection to his very soul that made me want to let him live again if only on paper. I suppose this all sounds very strange, but there you have it.

5.) What can we look forward to from you in the future?

I have a few more books to publish in the Assassin Chronicle series. Possibly another year to 18 months worth of publishing to complete my Opus Major. I read here and there on a daily basis that no one will read a series that has more than three books in it. This is a total misconception. I have twenty-two books out in the series and I sell a great number of book twenty-twos. Besides, look at the Star Trek novels; there are literally hundreds of novels in the series and readers still want them.

I also have a post-apocalyptic adventure novel with a monkey as one of the main characters waiting for me to polish, edit and release, as well as a Henry Fielding style historical romance adventure in the same condition. Both are laced with humor, adventure and much confusion. I am really looking forward to getting them out there.

I would like very much to write an Amanda Hocking style story about flying monkey vampires and make as much money as she has. My hat is off to her and the other Indie authors who have made the big time. I will have to study her style, go back and re-read Bram Stoker and give it a go.

I did attempt to write some erotic smut when I learned that this genre was a well paid side line, but I couldn't write the most important parts… what a joke that was! I kept imagining my mother reading it and knowing that I wrote it and the worst thing about that was the unbidden image of my mother(or father) reading erotic smut. So I gave it up, thankfully. I mean that was really weird! My mom is only sixteen years older than me and when I think back about what I was doing at sixteen… well, some things are just better left unimagined!

Brendan Carroll resource links:

The Knight of Death link: http://www.amazon.com/dp/B001J6ORUI

Tempo Rubato link: http://www.amazon.com/dp/B002MPPOZW

Amazon Author Page

Sample Sunday - WIDOW'S TALE

2011-03-12T20:07:00.000-08:00

From the romantic suspense novel, WIDOW'S TALE which is on sale this month for .99 cents!

Outside her window, the wind died down as Serena hoisted a long sleeved t-shirt over her head. She yanked off her jeans, but left on the thick wool socks to battle the bitter cold that lurked at the foot of the bed.

Serena lifted a hand towards the lantern on the nightstand, but her fingers stopped short and retreated. Instead, she closed her eyes to shut out the dim light. Abruptly, her eyes flared, afraid of the darkness beneath her eyelids.

Alan was still alive.

She could feel it in the thunderous beating of her heart and the throbbing of her veins. Hands that clutched the quilt beneath her chin began to shake. Alan would torment her. He had already begun. Then he would come for her—and what he would do to her depended on how far over the edge he had finally gone.

Serena burrowed under the covers, and in a whirl of anguish and fear, her last conscious thought before she fell asleep were the words Brett had uttered.

Because I wanted you.

Sleep was as elusive as answers.

Brett laced his hands behind his head and studied the grid pattern on the ceiling. The moon emerged to cast a luminous design—a chaotic checkerboard on which he had no clue which piece to move next.

Listening to the subtle groans of the old house and the distant sound of the breakers, Brett dissected each noise, however minute, for traces of an enemy. Restless and besieged with thoughts of Serena, he rose and approached her door.

The rustle of the quilt told him that even in slumber Serena tossed about in distress. His fingers brushed against the wood. He could go in there. Touch her. Offer solace.

That was a bad idea.

WIDOW'S TALE

Coming Soon!

2011-03-07T12:51:00.000-08:00

When I was a wee girl many years ago, I used to love to read Gothic romances. Victoria Holt. Phyllis A. Whitney. The atmosphere of those novels would not be complete without their bewitching covers. In what seemed to be perpetual nightfall, beautiful women were suspended in flight with something sinister looming behind them. In my burgeoning years of writing, I vowed that one day I would have a cover like that.

In my upcoming romantic suspense novel, ENDLESS NIGHT, the fantastic art department at Harlequin delved deep inside my head and extracted my new cover.

On May 16th, Carina Press will be releasing ENDLESS NIGHT and I can't wait to share it with you!

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?

Maureen
http://www.maureenamiller.com/

Lake George

2011-02-24T05:23:00.000-08:00

As a child we always took family vacations up to Lake George and the Adirondacks. I remember being able to say, "Adirondacks" long before I could manage mundane words such as "cat".

In my romantic suspense, BORROWED TIME I revisit Lake George and once again see the steamboat Minne-Ha-Ha. It looked so majestic when I was a little tyke, and to think it's still cruising around that lake with its big red paddle wheel and billow of steam. There was also the resplendent Sagamore Resort, which transported you to the decadent era of the roaring 20's. You can just picture ladies in divine gowns walking its majestic grounds as the sound of Big Band music streams from inside its ballroom.

In BORROWED TIME I also visit Saratoga with its grand racetrack and mineral springs. Basically, through the power of fiction I transported myself to another era. My childhood. Only this time, I am grown up and I have infused romance and suspense into all the haunts of my youth. Fiction gives you these liberties. Perhaps next time I will write a romantic suspense in Disney World!

Disclosure

2011-02-15T14:42:00.000-08:00

Today I have a special treat. I received a short story from the daughter of a friend of mine. She is sixteen years old. At first that age strikes me as young, but then I remembered that at sixteen I was already in Creative Writing and Honors English, and well on my way towards a career as...a programmer. Reality has to rear it's ugly head occasionally. But seeing this budding talent makes me emotional. There is so much promise and I hope Miss Gregory continues to write and that we find her here amongst us as a peer one day...soon.

Disclosure by Megan Gregory

Contest - Win a FREE copy of WIDOW'S TALE

2011-02-15T07:41:00.000-08:00

Please drop by "Quackers and Tease" to win a free copy of WIDOW'S TALE

Sample Sunday - WIDOW'S TALE

2011-02-12T17:28:00.000-08:00

An excerpt from the Golden Heart nominated romantic suspense novel, WIDOW'S TALE

A brisk ascent up the incline did little to keep the cold air at bay. Serena’s breath clouded her sight. She moved instinctively, traveling a path she had trekked since childhood, when the lighthouse was once operational. Extinguished more than fifteen years ago, replaced by the modern, high-tech model further down shore, this empty beacon stood as a lofty symbol of Victory Cove’s romantic past.

As the outline drew close, Serena’s pace stalled. She circled the tall edifice. The aid of moonlight came and went, the fickle north Atlantic current forcing along a patchy cloudbank. She took advantage of the brief moments of clarity to discern the single stone building at the base of the tower. In the past, gale force winds had lashed the waves high enough to mount the cliffs and engulf the tiny abode. Nonetheless, it survived through the years, a testimony to the hand-laid rock walls. She hoped the underground shed still offered the same access it had when she was a child.

Serena’s feet crunched over the frozen turf. Air billowed from her mouth as her eyes began to tear from the wind. She tucked her chin even deeper into the down collar. Seeking relief, walking backwards against the wind, she focused on the floodlights illuminating the tavern’s deck. From this perspective, O’Flanagans represented a warm and inviting symbol of hope, the lights on the third floor reminding her that Brett lay safe and asleep.

Most importantly, safe.

Turning back into the blustery weather, sounds came to Serena in muffled echoes within the cocoon of the jacket hiked around her ears. She nearly missed the grinding tread to her right.

Instinctively she crouched, cursing the open knolls that lead to the lighthouse. She prayed for cloud cover—any form of camouflage. But the moon glimmered across the fresh snow.

Spinning about, she studied the dirt path that led to the light keeper’s house like a black vein scarring white marble.

The path was empty. She was alone.

Hastening into a jog, Serena felt the tears of windburn on her face, and cursed when her boot skidded on a slick rock, pitching her into a heap. In frustration, she smacked her clenched fist on the rigid dirt and yelled at the pain.

Unsure whether to laugh or cry, Serena tipped her head back and stared into the moon, searching its wizened face for insight.

Conferences

2011-02-08T07:09:00.000-08:00

This summer, I will be attending the RWA Conference in New York City where I'll have the rare opportunity to sport my shiny "First Sale" ribbon.
Several years ago my romantic suspense novel, WIDOW'S TALE was nominated for a Golden Heart Award. That was my first foray into the famous Romance Writers of America Conference. I had no idea what to expect and quite honestly, I was nervous as all heck. But I packed up my bags, along with my conviction and I boarded that plane. As the cab pulled up in front of the Adam's Mark Hotel, I walked through the sliding front doors into the lobby and witnessed a throng of nearly 300,000 women (or so it appeared to me at the time). I turned around to leave, but the cab had pulled away.

I had no choice but to 'man up' as they say. I took a deep breath and walked directly into that throng (with my head ducked down). For nearly half a day I meandered through the conference without actually speaking to anyone. Then a woman walked up to me wearing her fancy "First Sale" ribbon, and she gave me a big smile and said, "You look as lost as me." And that was it! I had made my first friend. When they announced my name the night of the awards, that lovely lady let out the biggest shout for me that I could hear clear across the auditorium.

That lovely lady with the "First Sale" ribbon is the RITA award-winning, Brenda Coulter. She broke the ice for me and I went on to meet so many wonderful authors, editors and readers during that conference.
When I attend the conference this year with my little "First sale" ribbon, I will be looking for that person that looks lost, and I will smile at them. And I will take them under my wing.

Maureen A. Miller
www.maureenamiller.com

Sample Sunday - BORROWED TIME

2011-01-22T12:32:00.000-08:00

It's the weekend. I thought it might be a nice time to share some excerpts. Here is one from my romantic suspense,
BORROWED TIME

“Well Alice,” Brian murmured, “welcome to Wonderland.”

Artificial illumination exploded from above, shining bright enough to replicate the sun. Emily cried out and pitched her hand up over her eyes.

“What the—?”

Testing her endurance, she parted two fingers and squinted until her vision acclimated. Her hand fell uselessly to her side and her jaw dropped. She took two steps forward and felt too numb to continue any further.

The room was greater in size than any commercial airline hangar. Several jumbo jets could easily sit side by side under the vaulted ceiling soaring at least three stories above. The far walls were remote enough to lack focus, but they served only as a backdrop to the massive structure that filled nearly half the colossal chamber.

“Oh my God!” she whispered, but it echoed back as if she shouted atop the Matterhorn.

Caught up with the exhibit, Emily jumped when Brian moved in behind her, his palms resting on her shoulders. “I’ve seen a number of bizarre ventures launched deep in this facility,” Brian took a deep breath, “but I can honestly say that they’ve never tried anything like this.”

A shiver coursed through her as she whispered, “they didn’t have Colin then.”

And with the curiosity and awe of a child, Emily crossed that concrete floor as if it were frozen, as if she was on top of the ice-crusted surface of some faraway planet. She approached the mammoth craft suspended by metal scaffolding, like a creature of the sea, imprisoned, wanting nothing more than to be immersed in the life-sustaining ocean.

Mesmerized, Emily began to pace the perimeter, studying the fine details of craftsmanship. The vessel looked like an enormous silver manta ray, with its eyes formed by the bank of windows at the forward nose. The body of the ship flowed in aerodynamic waves as if even in these metal shackles it was gliding silently through the water, leaving the faintest of wakes.

Emily dared to step closer and stare up at the smooth, black underbelly. From this perspective she felt just as she had when she was a child visiting the Museum of Natural History, staring up at the blue whale suspended from the ceiling of the Hall of Ocean Life. She had felt so diminutive, like a tiny spec of plankton that would be inhaled without a thought.

The Hyperion was wider than that blue whale, but about the same length. It was made of a material that sparkled like black onyx. She walked for a span beneath it, but returned to Brian with a sense of urgency.

“You want to go inside,” he nodded, resigned.

Happy New Year!

2010-12-31T06:32:00.000-08:00

As the hours wind down on 2010, I want to offer everyone a happy, healthy and prosperous 2011.

My resolution for this year is to write more, read more, and to find a way to brighten everyone's life.

Happy New Year!

A day in the life of a writer ...

2010-12-13T12:13:00.000-08:00

In my case, a normal day in the life of a writer would consist of four cups of coffee prior to 6:00am. This is immediately followed by the need to squint at my bright monitor, as if sitting in the dark with only the computer turned on will maintain the stillness of the morning.

Between the hours of 6:00am and 8:00am I am capable of solving anything from world peace to mastering six new dialects. It is in these two productive hours that I write the most. The rest of the day I spend calculating when nap-time will be (which by the way...never comes).

Today however, was an eventful day. The mystery and romantic suspense authors from Carina Press (myself included) launched their very own blog Not Your Usual Suspects, and I think it is going to be a great success! Also, my interview was posted on the site of an up and coming talented critique at SyriaSays.
And yes, between 6 and 8 this morning I discovered what is making archeologists in the Guatemalen jungle go-missing, but you'll have to stay tuned for my next novel to learn that mystery. :)

Anyway, it was a productive day, and now I'm eyeing the clock, wondering if at five I could just close my eyes for a few minutes....

Borrowed Time

2010-11-30T17:00:00.000-08:00

Why must my books always be so cold?

Frigid and tempestuous weather invokes more atmosphere and just seems to breed suspense. And for the romantic aspect, it gives your characters a reason to warm up! Maybe it is just that I like the control of having my poor heroine battle a nor'easter while I sit in my cushy central-heated oasis. Maybe it's easier for my characters to feel a snowflake on their outstretched finger than a stroke of sunshine.

Of course there is still no accounting for my tropical segue, ROGUE WAVE (too many mai tais), but traditionally you can count on me to make you bundle up before reading one of my novels.

On that note, I would like to share my latest romantic suspense with you. BORROWED TIME

An accident on a frozen highway brings two strangers together.

Brian Morrison has no recollection of what placed him on that icy stretch hundreds of miles from home. In his line of business, memory loss was unacceptable and accountability was crucial.

Upon her parents’ death, Emily Brennan became the sole guardian of her brilliant, yet eccentric brother. Her devotion to protect him from a world that shunned the abnormal made her do the unthinkable. She stole designs from National Marine Dynamics…and now she was on the run.

Only an hour from the promise of safety, Emily witnesses the car behind her spin out of control on an icy stretch of highway. Fear dictated that she should flee, but the body slumped on the shoulder of the road appealed to her humanity.

Emily and Brian are two strangers thrown together by an errant patch of ice. Would the truths of their identities tear them apart or would they unite in battle against an egomaniac that threatened the safety of innocent civilians.

Coming this May!

2010-11-03T06:28:00.000-07:00

I am generally quiet, but I finally have some exciting information to share. This Spring, my romantic suspense novel, ENDLESS NIGHT will be published by Carina Press, the digital division of Harlequin.

The title was up for some debate. Ultimately, my editor played a big role in the decision process. Taken from a simple quote in the book, "That night was endless. It still hasn't ended." ENDLESS NIGHT was born.

I'm going to be so happy when it's May and I can share this novel with you. Trust me, I'll keep everyone posted with the steps along the way. :) Keep this quote in mind every day...

"We read. We write. We Dream."

Why are you a Romance Novelist?

2010-10-14T07:37:00.000-07:00

You often hear authors say, "I've been writing since I was a single cell."

Well...it's like the fish story. You've been writing since you were in high school, and then it's since you were ten, and then it's since you were an infant. You keep embelishing. :)

I have been writing since I was a kid, and I'll leave it at that. We will discount the adventures of Super Watermelon Man and move on to an age when I actually sat down and wrote a full-fledged 60 page novel about space aliens in a small coastal town. Moving beyond that phase, and into my late teens, I wrote my first full-length novel which was about some crazy tale of people getting posessed and having glowing green eyes all because they lived near some haunted house that had a history with Druid rituals!!! Whoah! More likely I would guess nuclear activity was involved...and it was probably me that was affected and not the characters :)

Then, I progressed to the mind-control stage. That book was actually good, and considering that Matt Damon resurrected the Bourne series, I'd love to bring it back to life someday.

But then, something happened. I became a woman. It was as if the great Editor above came down and tapped me on the shoulder and said, "enough of this nonsense, get on with what you're supposed to be doing."

Maybe others have a more glamorous tale as to what brought them to their genre, but however I arrived here, I'm happy in my world. I may dazzle you with that mind control novel one day, but you can count on me to toss out romantic suspense on a consistent basis. Thank you great Editor from above!

Writing Humor

2010-10-07T19:37:00.000-07:00

Leila of the Lake - The Pool

2010-08-12T06:29:00.000-07:00

Join me here each week for the adventures of Leila Jennings as she starts her new life on Lake Norman.

“Ahoy fine lady, you seem to have dropped something.”
Leila glanced down at the older man in bathing trunks with skin seared to a cancerous shade of copper. Given his age and sex she truly doubted that he was pregnant, but it was hard to be convinced otherwise by the size of the belly that overlapped his trunks.
“Thank you, I was just on my way down to pick them up.”
“Big mistake.” The disembodied voice two balconies away mumbled. “Big mistake.”
“I’m sorry?” Leila turned to look at her adjacent neighbor, frustrated that the sun still eclipsed him.
“Have you been to the pool yet?” He asked.
“No.” Leila perked up, sensing an invitation.
“If you go down to get those glasses, they’ll get you.”
The ominous overtone piqued her curiosity. “They?”
“Just a warning,” He tapped the balustrade and nodded, “Welcome to Lake Norman, Leila.” Then he vanished behind the wall.
“But—” I don’t know your name.
Not to worry, Leila thought. She would encounter her enigmatic neighbor again. For now, she was dead set on getting back her sunglasses. Every penny counted until the new job started on Monday.

In the Sunset Reef courtyard, Leila followed the meandering sidewalk until the robust call came, “Ahoy m’lady, over here.”
As she rounded the corner of the building adjacent to hers the sound hit her. It was a wave of laughter, and splashing, and music, and multiple voices mingling, each louder than the first in an attempt to dominate. Leila had reached the pool. It was perfect, set just beside the lake where a couple of jet-skiers now idled out of the no-wake zone.
“Welcome to Sunset Reef.” The man swept his arm out in invitation for her to pass through the pool gates. “I’m George. George Dandy. Formerly from Texas. Very formerly,” He chuckled and his stomach quivered, “about sixteen years now.”
“I’m Leila Jennings. It’s very nice to meet you, Mr. Dandy.”
“Oh gosh, woman, it’s just George.”
“George! What did you bring us?” A lady in a floppy straw hat and sunglasses called out from her reclined position on a chaise lounge.
“I brought you Miss Leila Jennings, from—” He turned towards her with an arched gray brow.
“New Jersey.”
“New Jersey!” Another woman in a bikini that seemed a tad inappropriate for her age popped up from a wooden bench and shuffled over in flip-flops with golden sequins on them.
“My sister lives up in New Jersey. Paramus. Are you from Paramus?”
“Doesn’t Sophia’s parents live in New Jersey?” Another woman stepped forward to inject.
“No, Sophia’s parents are from Arizona.”
Before Leila knew it, she was circled by a group of bronzed sun-worshippers of varying ages engaged in an inquisition.
“How much did you pay for your condo? You know the market took a hit, but I think the prices are coming back up.”
“Oh no, no.” Leila shook her head. “I’m renting.”
“Ohhh” They all nodded and added in unison. “smart.”
“Where are you working, Leila?”
“Well, I haven’t started yet, but I’ll be working at the Bank of Charlotte.”
“Ohhh,” Again the harmonic response.
“Leila, there are burgers on the grill.” George Dandy lifted a barbeque tong. “Or if you want to wait, we’re taking the boat over to Midtown later, you can join us.”
Leila glanced down at her watch. She had arrived in Cornelius twenty-five minutes ago. So much for things being slower in the south.

maureenamiller.com

Dying Online

2010-08-04T04:37:00.000-07:00

No, it's not the title of a new murder mystery. Perhaps it is a morbid subject, but it's also an interesting one. In this new venue of maintaining online presence, what happens when you're gone?

Policies are being put into effect with social sites, but they are riddled with complications. For example, one site unmentioned may not listen to the wishes of a family member unless that family member is on the "friend" list. I love my parents dearly, but they are not on my "friend" list.

As an author it is interesting to note the policies being put into place now for ebooks. What happens to them if something happens to you? Plans are in effect where authors can arrange to have their earnings donated to charity if the books go on selling.

I am counting on achieving Elvis Presley status after I pass on, so those books are going to be flying off the e-shelf! Considering that I sometimes drive without my glasses on, I guess I better get myself prepared. :)

What am I doing?

2010-08-02T09:06:00.000-07:00

People have been asking if I sit at my window and count grass blades or if I'm actually working on something new. With my eyes, I'm lucky if I can even see the grass let alone count the blades...so yes, I am working on a new book. Some of you have already heard inklings of it, but here's a preliminary scope of the project.

EYE OF THE SUN

Demoted to a New York newspaper deskjob after photographing something he was not supposed to, war photojournalist, Mitch Hasslet is assigned the mundane task of shooting a shipment of rare Mayan artifacts departing the country. What should have been routine, turns into a disaster as he becomes the sole witness of the cargo's heist.

Frustrated with the multi-national politics involved in tracking down the shipment, the enigmatic director of the Museum of Art and Antiquties recruits Mitch and sends him to the last traced location of the shipment. Guatemala. Under the guise of representing the museum, Mitch's cover is to join the ranks of an archeological dig and use the opportunity to search for the guerillas responsible for the heist. His incentive...money...and the means to return to the job he loves.

Alexandra Langley is about to run out of funds. She has yet to locate the lost Mayan temple she knows lurks in the jungles and she refuses to succumb to failure and have her Father, THE Professor Langely preach that there is only one archeologist in the family. If she has to accept the Musuem’s latest lackey in order to achieve her grant, she will deal with the photographer, Mitch Hasslet and any other obstacle tossed her way.

What Mitch and Alex do not realize is that they are pawns in a far greater scheme.

With her latest search unproductive, Alex must take her group into the sector labeled Dead Man’s Land on the map, an area to which archeologists have ventured, but never returned. In this unchartered land, she will do everything in her power to save her students, as well the annoying photographer she is falling in love with.

If you would like to read more, there is a sample of the (as it is thus far) first chapter on my website. http://www.maureenamiller.com/index.php?p=1_10

Writing Tips

2010-07-23T04:21:00.000-07:00

Here are a few tips for Writers:

Avoid rephrasing, which is, in other words, paraphrasing or rewording of a statement, sort of like repeating it.

You will die horribly if you are overdramatic!

Avoid clichés like the plague.

Never use a preposition to end a sentence with.

Write assertively, I think.

djust the margins before print

opy of the completed docume

July

2010-07-06T04:53:00.000-07:00

June was a month for editing. Funny enough, July is shaping up to be the same.

It's a sad day when you work yourself into such an editing spiral that you are left with two words on the page, and you sit back with a smile of relief and say, "yes, this will do."

I believe there is a disease called Editotosis in which the writer habitually deletes unnecessary words until they are left with a blank page. It's ironic that I suffer from this illness, when years ago if I was to delete one word it would be akin to severing a finger. Actually, the loss of an appendage would probably be less painful.

So when you pick up my next book and open it to page one (the only page) and it says simply, "It rained." Think to yourself, 'My, what a splendid editing job.' :)

On a buoy

2010-06-16T05:19:00.000-07:00

About a year ago there was a story in a local Tampa newspaper that didn't get much publicity, and yet it struck such a poetic chord with me.

A man fell off a cruise ship. The ship kept going and eventully pulled into port without anyone knowing he was missing. After falling off, the man had been hit by a boat and finally managed to swim to a buoy. He crawled up on it and sat there waiting.

Can you see him...waving, saying, "Uhhh...guys? Hey guys?! Remember me? Guys?"

A pilot boat finally saw him and saved him. But ask yourself, how many times have you felt like the man on the buoy?

It actually makes for the perfect Facebook status. "On a buoy."

Big noses

2010-06-13T10:17:00.000-07:00

I used to travel 80% of the time for work and it was during airport layovers and lengthy flights that I did some of my best writing. Of course, when you're in the middle seat on a six hour flight to the west coast, your neighbors grow bored and also grow BIG noses.

To get around this, I mastered the art of reducing my Microsoft Word page to about and inch by inch in size, and the font (though it doesn't even register as an option) was reduced to 6.

You won't find it hard to believe that I have a little trouble with my eyesight after years of that :) But whether you're writing a gory scene, or another eh-hem type of graphic scene, it's not something you want to share with the man sipping on his fifth mini-bottle of Vodka or the teenager travling alone, pretending to be mad at the world, while secretly watching Madagascar on the overhead.

I know people read books on their cell phones now, but if ever there is a market for books on your watch, I'd feel right at home again!

Origins

2010-06-03T15:31:00.000-07:00

We all have to start out somewhere. As I pointed out on my website, mine began with the infamous Super Watermelon Man.

Please be liberal and bear in mind that I was about ten or eleven when I wrote this, but you could tell from this nail-biting introduction that I was destined for great Romantic Suspense novels!!!

New Website!

2010-05-29T09:44:00.000-07:00

I have finally unveiled my brand new website. It's still a work in progress, but if you get a chance, please stop by and take a peek!

http://www.maureenamiller.com/

Everyone have a wonderful holiday weekend!