Friday, December 29, 2006

Post-Christmas Chatter

I didn't put up a tree this year, so the picture you see is from one a few years back. Does that make it a recycled tree?'s an artifical, so I guess it is in more ways than one.

And no, that isn't a ghostly image beside's the window. My dining room is quite dark, even in the daytime.

So, why you ask, did I not put up a tree. Well, the simple answer is pure and utter laziness. Dave is going to school full time and working, and I'm busy doing things and running hither, tither and yon...which I'm still looking for on the the navigation system, by the way. I found hither - it's in upstate New York, but tither and yon seem to elude me. - Anyhoo...with Dave working is cute buns into the dirt and me being a raving lunatic with everything else, it just seemed to be a bit overwhelming to put up decorations. Oddly enough, it didn't seem like Christmas this year. I don't know if was because we went sans-Deck la Halls, or if it was because it just Came Upon A Midnight Clear waaaayyyy too soon. Me, I opting for it having come up really quickly this year. Almost taking me by surprise. I would very much like to see 2007 go a little slower (But only the spring and summer months...oh and the fall...Winter can go by a lightspeed for all I care.) Anytime there's a potential for me having to drive in the snow, I would really rather not. I guess growing up in Florida during my young adult years kind of spoiled me for that.

So, my Christmas was loverly, though maybe not as festive looking as in past years. Dave and I had a nice quiet weekend at home. We were both off, which never happens!!! I think in all the years he and I have been together that only happened the year we moved to NJ and both worked bankers hours. My Christmas dinner was a triumph. Our tradition for Christmas dinner is to not have a tradition. Unlike Thanksgiving where it's always turkey, as per protocol, Christmas I like to change it up every year. Usually we have some kind of game bird (ham is reserved for Easter) - this year I decided to make a rib roast. It was so tender and juicey it just melted in your mouth. I was very pleased, because though I am a slamming cook, I have no real luck cooking beef, unless it's in the slow cooker with a pile of veggies. If anyone wants the secret, let me know. I'll be more than happy to impart what I am beginning to believe is 'duh wisdom.' You know what that is, wisdom gained after you slap your forehead and say, 'duh.'

I hope you all have a wonderful second half of the holiday. And much love, laughter, luck and longevity (I would say health, but it doesn't start with an 'L' and I was on a roll there), in the New Year.

Really the health and happiness is implied. So, is success.

Cheers to you!


Tuesday, December 26, 2006

Christmas Purr-Baby

Merry Christmas Everyone!

Christmas, as we've all noted, is hectic. But it's a great time to be with family, to eat all our favorite foods, to visit friends and to adore our favorite four-legged companions. My purr-baby, Wookie, took the opportunity last year to bask under the tree. Some people say she's seeking the limelight. Me? I think she's staking out the gifts :D

Wookie, in case you're wondering, is renowned for her ability to pull contest names out of a box for me but she's also unequaled in her ability to nap. I've seen this fluffy purr-baby nap through just about anything (though this kitchen remodel we've been undergoing has been fairly traumatic for her) So why would she be so intent on staking out the gifts?

Well, possibly to keep her big 'sister', Zuzu, from grabbing any :D

I think I forgot to mention that the book Linda Wisdom and I wrote for the Triskelion Interludes line is now available. And the cover is HOT! The only problem is that my first name is spelled wrong but, hey, I figure no one will notice because they're staring so hard at the guy's hands :D

Hope you all have a safe and happy New Year!

The week of Christmas Pix!

I hope everyone had a great holiday! Are you all sufficiently recovered from the eating, the unwrapping, the schlepping of gifts to relatives' homes, the caroling [does anyone go caroling anymore?] and the collecting of ripped up wrapping paper to add to the recycling bin.

Whew. Holidays are hard work, before, during and after. This is the week I usually start working on putting all the gifts away - no easy task with two kids whose rooms are already bursting at the seams with toys and clothes and books and video games. 'Tis the season to clean out closets, send a HAZ-MAT team under the beds and locate all those gifts I put away last year that everyone forgot they even had.

The fridge is stuffed with leftovers, the thank-you notes for long-distance gifts have been sent, and now it's time to kick back and rest a bit before ushering out the old year and cranking up the gears to get started on the new.

My favorite Christmas picture this year is this one - my blue sparkled Poinsettia. Why a blue one? Because it's different. I've always been attracted to the unusual, the horse of a different color, so to speak. This caught my eye and I had to have it because it's something you just don't see.

What's your favorite Holiday photo?

We 2 Snowwomen Are?

As part of our holiday cheer, the ladies of Star-Crossed Romance decided to post some of our favorite Christmas pictures. However, I didn't have any that were digital (since they were taken before new fangled cameras or lost to harddrive deaths), so I endeavored to create a couple fun ones this year.

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Can you guess who these two lovely snowwomen are? I'll give you a hint--we used to be known as Tweedledee & Tweedledumb, as well as Thing 1 & Thing 2.
To find the answer, plus a bonus click here.

Friday, December 22, 2006

Christmas wishes, contest and giveaway....

Due to the holidays and running around like a beheaded Christmas bird, plus work and deadlines, I've missed several go-rounds for my posts. I'm very sorry. I'll try to be better this coming year. I have to get more organized. Help me Obi-won Kenobi, you're my only hope....

Anyhoo, in release news. My alter-ego Kathleen Scott has a new title out this month in Secrets Volume 17: Erotic Nights. The novella is "Fatal Error" and is about a dystopian future USA, controlled by the designs of a meglomanic supercomputer gone sentient. Here's a taste of the action.

Fatal Error by Kathleen Scott


Jesse Storm, must make amends to humanity by destroying the computer program he helped design that has taken the country and government hostage, while trying to protect the woman he has loved in secret for nearly a decade. Soran Roberts, a federal accountant, has become increasingly annoyed by the government’s strong-arm control of the citizenry. Though the secret crush she had on Jesse Storm in college was unrequited, she will never forget his intensity. When their paths cross again the passion that always simmered below the surface of their relationship boils over and threatens to burn them alive while they fight to save the country.

Set up:

Jesse had just finished downloading the virus into the computer’s mainframe to take it off line and hopefully give control of the country back to the people. He didn’t count on Soran’s unwitting cooperation or the chance to steal her personal keyboard that is a direct link to the computer’s gray matter and imprinted with Soran’s fingerprint recognition. With the keyboard, he and the other members of his group will have a better chance of activating the virus. But first they have to make it back to the warehouse.


Jesse held her hand as they moved through the oppressive night. They needed to get across town to the wharf, but with the amount of police out and about it was not an easy task. Then there was Soran’s outfit.
By now, all the police in the area had been sent pictures of them. While his dark t-shirt and utility pants wouldn’t stand out in any crowd, that short skirt and peek-a-boo shirt of hers were sure to get her noticed quickly.
He couldn’t take her into any well-lit places, and they needed to avoid all public transportation, like the sky trams. That left cabs, and hoofing it across town. He didn’t really relish the idea of making her walk across town in bare feet either. No telling what kind of funky disease she’d end up with then.
“Come on, babe. We need to get to the waterfront.”
“We can take my glider.”
Figured she’d have a nice piece of personal transportation. He shook his head. “It’s registered. They’re looking for us, and you should have no doubt they already know everything about you, including the registration on your glider.”
“What about the underground? There’s a subway tunnel somewhere around here, isn’t there?”
Taking her to the underground held about as much appeal for Jesse as his memory of watching her suck face with the jerk she dated for a short while in college. When the city transportation department had gone bankrupt forty years ago, they had closed the subway lines in order to save money. They had never reopened and had become a haven for the city’s homeless population. “Not an option.”
“Can you jack a trike?” She asked leading him down another alley.
The trike she referred to was the three-thruster equivalent of an old three-wheeled conveyance, or tricycle. They were a cheaper form of personal transportation that required very little in way of upkeep. They were also very easy to jack. Jesse didn’t know if he felt insulted by her insinuation that it may not be a skill he possessed.
“I can jack one. Where is it?”
“There.” She pointed to the back entrance of an Asian restaurant. The trike had a sign on it that read: Lucky Fong’s Take Out. Poor Fong wouldn’t be too lucky tonight.
A blaze of flashing lights trapped them in their spot.
The police glider cruised at the second floor level. Another one followed at street level. The police were beginning to sweep the area for them. The past six months had seen an overwhelming increase in the number of police guarding the streets. The Restoration Brigade had speculated how there came to be so many new cops in such a short time, but hadn’t come to any conclusions. But whatever the reason for the increased police presence, Jesse needed to make short work of the trike, and without Soran standing over him, distracting him with her warm breath down his back.
“Wait here. I’ll go jack the trike and come for you. The cops are looking for two people, not one. If they see me by the trike they won’t be as suspicious.”
“No, you’ll ditch me now that we’re out of the building.”
Who was she kidding? “Not a chance.” He crushed his mouth to hers to reestablish his intent.
Her mouth opened and she slid her tongue against his. Electricity burned his nerve endings, fusing his rigid body to hers. This wasn’t serving the cause; it was only serving his selfish need. And for all he didn’t show it this night, his main goal in life had been to not selfishly bring Soran to him. But that plan had shattered the moment he saw her again.
He pulled away from her. “Stay here.”
She nodded and made no other comment.
The way appeared clear. In the crosswalk he could see the flashing lights from the police vehicles bouncing off the slick facades of the buildings. Even at night, crowds began to gather outside the Complex, curiosity pushing their fears of government aside. Jesse smiled in satisfaction. The more people roaming the streets, the less chance they had of being caught.
He moved quickly to the trike. A quick survey of the vehicle showed it was an older model, but well maintained. The door locks were disengaged, so it would only take a moment to reconfigure the programming and start the engine and thrusters.
Five minutes later he pulled into the alley where Soran waited for him leaned up against a building, the keyboard tucked up against her body.
He idled the trike and held out his hand to help her on board. She leaned forward, tucking the keyboard between them and placing her arms tight around his waist.
The sore ribs still ached, but to have Soran so close he could stand a little discomfort. It would have been better had she not put the keyboard between them and he could have felt her breasts rubbing against his back. Jesse dismissed the horny thoughts and hit the button to pull the doors down around them. “Hold on, babe. These things may be small, but they rocket.”
A cheap thrill moved through him as she tightened her arms as he released the idle and they shot forward through the streets.
Pride screamed through him. Twice tonight he’d gotten away due to Soran’s quick thinking. She would definitely be an asset to the organization. If she decided to stay with him. It was a far cry from saving one’s self against immediate threat, to helping to overthrow the government.


Quiz Questions:

1. Where is the warehouse located that Jesse and Soran are trying to get to?

2. Why doesn't Jesse want to take Soran's glider across town?

3. What is the underground?

4. Who is Lucky Fong?

Enter to win by sending answers directly to my email by going to ,or by clicking on my book cover of Immorati and going through my website to my email or blog. Or feel free to add them to the comments at the end of the post.

Have a safe and happy holidays to you and yours.


Christmas contest & wishes

Firstly, I have a new release out this month, Love's Beguiling Healer. It's been released by Wings ePress in ebook and trade paperback format and is available right now.

For a little taste of it, here's an excerpt:

And, stars, he tasted her instead. His rough tongue slid across her lower lip in a smooth glide, rasping gently. Her knees started to shake, and she blindly sought out the rail behind her with her own hands, gripping onto the smooth marble tightly for support.
Then he licked her top lip, with the same rasping gentleness.
“We shouldn’t--” she began hoarsely, only to halt as a warning growl rumbled from him.
Tensely he waited until she stilled, then he trailed his tongue back to the center of her lips, playing the tip along the little bow on the middle of her top lip. Dipping his tongue down a little, he found the very center of where her lips met.
Heart thundering, Tera started to open her lips, eager for his kiss.
He nipped her.
Tera jumped and jerked her head back. Her bottom lip tingled. It didn’t pain, but she could feel the imprint of his sharp teeth in the tender flesh. Shocked, she stared up at him. “You bit me!”
“So? You bit me!” Reaching up incredulously, she touched her lip.
“I’m a carnivore.” His teeth flashed with a white sharpness in the gloom. “What did you expect?”
“I’m not a piece of meat, damn it!”
“And yet you’re so tasty.”
For a Felys, his smile was very wolfish.
Eyes narrowed, Tera placed her hands on his chest and shoved hard.
Illam only leaned further into her.
“I’ll scream,” she threatened.
“Go ahead,” he taunted.
“Don’t play games with me, Illam!”
“But I want to play with you, healer.” His breath was warm on her face, the faint hint of spice within it. “I find I suddenly want to play with you very much.”


The hero is one of a Felys species (feline-type) while the heroine is an Argon healer apprentice. Both of very sensual, sexy races.

To win an ebook copy of this latest release (book 11 in the Heart & Soul series), go to my website and find the Heart & Soul book page, then list the titles available now. Then send your list to me at and I will put you in the draw!

Because I am late with this *sheepish grin* the contest won't close until the 30th Dec 2006.

And now - I want to wish you all a very safe and Merry Christmas, and best wishes for a Happy New Year. May it be filled with love, kindness and happiness - and good reading!

Angela *who is having salad and cold meat for Christmas lunch as it is summer Down Under and HOT!*

The Air Up There

They say people go a little nuts around the holidays, and they--whoever they are--are right. In my little town in the middle of cornfield, USA, the criminals are even getting into the spirit of things. Our town has been inflicted with a rash of crimes perpetuated by a group of individuals known somewhat unoriginally as the "Blowup Santa Bandits." Their crimes are, as you might guess, making off with the neighborhood's blow-up santas.

Ordinarily, I would find this funny for the sheer absurdity of it. I'm fairly sure the bandits are high school kids and the banditry is simple prankery. It's more of a nuisance than anything else, especially because those damn santas ain't cheap. My neighbor has a plethora of blow up holiday items, all of whom have remained, like the stars, in their proper orbits around their yard.

Consequently, that places my neighbor under suspicion. And it falls to me, as the material witness (because this is Suburbia, and everybody spies on their neighbors), to confirm or deny the legitimate existence of said inflatables to a number of amateur detectives making the rounds of the neighborhood. Am I friends with said neighbor? Do I know how long said inflatables have resided in the house next door? Where does she keep them stored (a question I have myself, since they have a small garage, but hey--I get creative with the storage, too)? Does she covet inflatables?

I think that one year, I just might join the inflatable molestation crew. I think I might don a nice black Christmas Ninja outfit and strap a tank of helium onto my back, and sneak around, filling everyone's hot-air ho-ho-hos with helium and sawing through their cords so that there's barely a thread holding them down. And then I'll sit on my rooftop with a plastic santa set (because it's the kind of kitsch I can get behind) and a hot Kahlua, and watch as a good gust of wind liberates the blow-up population of my town and they all fly skyward, free to frolic with one another without the tethers placed upon them by their earthly masters, as nature intended.

Wednesday, December 20, 2006

Santas + Gifts=Christmas

Well, it seems I’m on a different wavelength than everyone else again! For my participation this week, I decided to write a holiday snippet and have anyone who wants to participate fill in the equation:

(number of santa(s)) + (number of gift(s)) = (number of Christmas(es))

The 2nd and 5th people who comment here with the correct answer will win this beautiful star photo frame! (Hunk not included).

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For everyone else that doesn’t fall on the lucky number, I’ll pull a random name from my Santa hat. So get to reading, time’s a wasting until the cut off on Christmas Eve! And as always, I hope you enjoy the story!
A whole week off. That was a miracle in itself. She pulled into the parking lot of the local mall, her eyes scanning the rows that filled the space for miles. As she sat trapped, waiting behind one lucky shopper, she read the lighted marquee that flashed pertinent events during December.

Open from this to that. It was 6:45 p.m., 53 degrees. A new store was opening two weeks before Christmas, and would be running Christmas specials through the holidays. Santa was in court at the Palace from morning til night.

She felt sorry for him, but hoped she could detour around the crowds when she got inside. Obviously she’d have to be luckier than she was out here. Christmas was a great time, but the rat race could kill you. Kind of like her job, she thought with a grimace. But she didn’t have to worry about that for another five days.

Suddenly a bit of luck crossed her path and a spot opened up. Overjoyed she whipped her car in it and hopped out. Shopping here I come. Christmas was the best excuse for a buying binge, and little did her husband know that she’d borrowed one of his cards. A sly grin curved her lips, but she’d only use it in an emergency. Like that pair of shoes she’d been eyeing for a month.

Her steps sounded on the pavement as she took in the hustle around her. She’d never seen so many people! Or Santas for that matter. There was a Santa collecting money for the Salvation army, a Santa serving coffee at the book shop cafe, a Santa flag strapped to the front of a truck. As far as she could, Alamance’s stores wouldn’t be able to say it was a bad Christmas rush this year.

She dropped a few coins in Santa’s pot and stepped through the door to find Christmas music flooding the halls and lights everywhere. I’ve been away for too long. She took her Christmas list out of her pocket. Five presents left to find, but two were gonna be doozies. Her dad was always a pain to shop for, and as for her daughter’s new boyfriend she hadn’t a clue. She’d just have to hope inspiration hit her…fast!

Hallmark was her first stop to pick up a tiny, collectible figurine for her mom. The perfect, if boring choice, would make her smile. She remembered Christmas last year when she’d opened her gift from her mom. It was small, but heart felt. For this holiday that’s what was supposed to matter most, and she knew her mom would treasure the little girl she held in her hand, because she never allowed herself a treat since finances were so tight. Brainstorming another scheme, she wondered it Santa really was as clever.

With a half dozen Christmas cards, 16 Christmas napkins, and a roll of ribbon she was out of the first store bearing Santa as her shopping logo too. The large red bags everyone was totting plastered with his face. Glowing red cheeks, and a poofy white beard, but there was also that little hint of something extra. As if this Santa had a secret. She knew she did.

An hour later her cheer hadn’t faded, but some of the parents tending their children had grown tired of the constant chatter and noise of being stuck amid more than a few dozens little people clammering for a chance to tell Santa exactly what they wanted. She heard one boy repeating over and over, “I want Santa to bring me a bike, and a train, and a new Sega game! Do you think Santa will do that mom?” His mom looked down at him, and said something she’d liked repeated a hundred times so far this Christmas. “Of course dear, you’ve been a good boy.” Another little girl further back, sat patiently on the lip of a planter, her big, blue eyes taking in the Christmas sights around her. When her mom motioned that it was her turn she jumped up, took one look at Santa, and ran away crying.

It really wasn’t funny, but it happened, she thought recalling her own daughter’s first look at Saint Nick. She’s been two and had pretended to be so brave, but the moment she’d stepped up on the podium where he sat, she’d hightailed it. It had taken ten minutes to calm her down.

Hadn’t she said she was going to avoid this? She moved around the outskirts of weary men waiting, their eyes glazed over. She knew what they were thinking—how did they do it?

Christmas was an eye opening experience, especially when window-shopping for that “perfect” Christmas...thing. She kinda knew what it was, but if a salesman asked her what she needed, she’d have to say, “It’s...well, it’s...I guess I’m just looking.” Christmas was all about that and wishing for things you couldn’t have. That was part of the magic. Sharing the memories, the Santa tales of hopes and dreams from years past, or just those funny once in a lifetime things that you’d never expected to happen in a million years.

She saw it—the last item she needed to finish her Christmas quest! A sweater in green she knew her daughter would find “hot” on her special someone. Not only was it the exact size, and a nice price, it was a Christmas color to boot! Things were definitely looking up. With all of her Christmas shopping done, she’d have a chance enjoy the times she treasured most.

One her way back down the mall, passing people who were in it for the long hall, she couldn’t help being a little relieved. Giddy even on some level, which was an emotion she hadn’t felt in years. Seeing that the line to Santa had shortened, she zipped in behind the last mother and daughter couple. The little girl, with dark hair and a baby doll under one arm looked up at her questioningly, her thumb in her mouth. She smiled at the little girl, and surprisingly got one in return. Then came the shy question, “What do you want Santa to bring you?” Thinking, she said the first thing that came to mind, which had been there all night. “That my family gets what they want most.”

When her time came, she stepped up beside Santa and met his look for the child she was supposed to have with a grin. “Do you mind?” She gestured from herself to his lap. He turned redder than the color of his suit, then he remembered who he was and chortled, “Of course. Ho, ho, ho.” She took her place, posed for the keepsake picture and then answered the question that he asked everyone. “For my family to know how much I love them, and...” she accepted the picture from Santa’s elf, “this picture for my mom who showed me what Christmas is all about.”
If you're concerned I won't be able to track you down through Blogger, feel free to send a copy of your comment along with your snail mail address to me at, or simply enter your information using the form on my contest page at

Monday, December 18, 2006

Contest Week - Win some stuff!

Welcome to contest week here at StarCrossed!

I'm going to start off by announcing the winner of my chat contest at Novelspotters yesterday. Thanks to everyone who dropped by with a comment or question!

The winner of a free download of The Adventures of Molten Man, No. 1, my latest release from Amber Quill Press is:

Tessa Bamberg!

Congratulations, Tessa!

Don't be disappointed if you didn't attend the chat because my holiday contest is still going on. You've got two more days to enter. It's easy:

For details visit my blog

or my website contest page:
The winner of my holiday contest will be announced on December 20th!

Contest - Win a copy of Heartstone!

This is contest week for Star-Crossed Romance which is kind of cool because it allows our readers the opportunity to get something for themselves. I've got a contest for members of my newsgroup going right now. You can join my newsgroup by sending a blank email to

Then read Heartstone to answer the following questions:
A. What is the name of the physician who treats Keriam’s ex-fiancĂ© Marc Cooper?
B. What insect is suspected of curing Marc of his Gawan Infestation?

Send your answers to by December 31. One name will be drawn to win an assortment of my signature items AND a $25.00 gift certificate from Amazon. com. Members of my newsgroup are also eligible to receive a 2007 Date Book/pen (you can see the details on my website There's no chatter there--it's simply a newsletter that will come out once a month or less (sometimes I get super busy at the day job and just run out of time to do much of anything else).

For the contest I'll be offering this week exclusively for readers of this blog, let's make it easy (we're all already stressed enough for the holiday. right? :D ) and tie it in to last week's theme. My dh wants an old fashioned peanut butter cookie. I need a recipe. (You may have noticed from last week, all my recipes have chocolate in or on them--that's not what he wants so this time no chocolate, please. Gawd, can't believe I said that!!!) Anyway, email your favorite old fashioned peanut butter cookie recipe to me at All the names will go in a box and my purr-baby Wookie will select the winner of Heartstone (pdf format only)

Contest deadline will be December 23 so don't delay! :D

Merry Christmas!

Sunday, December 17, 2006

Join us for a chat today!

Today Jennifer and Bernadette will be chatting at Novelspotters from 1:00 to 1:30 PM.

They’ll be discussing new and upcoming releases with Amber Quill Press and giving away a free download of The Adventures of Molten Man! Drop by and say hello!

Thursday, December 14, 2006

Season's Beatings

I've been around the blogs, doing my part over at SEx - the Liquid Silver blog, and at my own blog, and I'm reading all the warm holiday reminisces, the great frothing-forth of joy and goodwill towards all, and various and sundry merriments and cheers, and well...

I'm buckin' the system.

Christmas Crazies, Hanukkah Headaches, and Yuletide Yahoos. Whether they're people--you know and love, or you don't know and wish would go away--situations, or responsibilities, there are more reasons to grit your teeth over the holidays than there are all the gifts of the twelve days of Christmas--even that stupid partridge. Because honestly, I've been staring at reindeer since Oc-friggin-tober and my holiday cheer has a half-life of about two weeks. My bells are already jingled by the time the radio stations go to "all Xmas-all the time," and by the time December rolls around, I'm more than a little red-and-green shell-shocked.

I'm sick of looking at representations of fat men in red fuzzy suits. I mean, outside of an anime convention or a very specialized type of kink, pretty damn scary. Fat men wearing red who break into houses and leave unattended, strange-looking packages under trees. People who put trees inside their houses expressly for the purposes of inviting said housebreaker inside and allowing him to eat their food and drink their milk. I think I'd rather stick with the security of knowing some strange fetishist with a high risk of heart-disease won't be pawing through my stuff and letting his reindeer do unspeakable things to my lawn. Or my roof, if that poem is to be believed.

So here's a big shout-out to all you fellow Grinches out there. My heart's three sizes too small because it's making room for my tummy tuck. Because in order to avoid all those holiday headaches, I have to medicate myself, and the best way to do that is through chocolate. With peanut butter, preferably.


  • 1 1/2 cups creamy peanut butter
  • 1/2 cup butter, softened
  • 1 teaspoon vanilla extract
  • 4 cups sifted confectioners' sugar
  • 6 ounces semi-sweet chocolate chips
  • 2 tablespoons shortening

  1. Line a baking sheet with waxed paper; set aside.

  2. In a medium bowl, mix peanut butter, butter, vanilla, and confectioners' sugar with hands to form a smooth stiff dough. Shape into balls using 2 teaspoons of dough for each ball. Place on prepared pan, and refrigerate.

  3. Melt shortening and chocolate together in a metal bowl over a pan of lightly simmering water. Stir occasionally until smooth, and remove from heat.

  4. Remove balls from refrigerator. Insert a wooden toothpick into a ball, and dip into melted chocolate. Return to wax paper, chocolate side down, and remove toothpick. Repeat with remaining balls. Refrigerate for 30 minutes to set.

Wednesday, December 13, 2006

Treat to Follow...Hopefully!

I’ve always been a giver, and thought if I had more than someone else I ought to share. That’s the way I was raised, and I never want to forget the gems of wisdom my grandparents gifted me with…though I haven’t been able to talk my Grandmaw into parting with her infamous fudge recipe. *grin* (There is still hope for my mom’s chocolate oatmeal cookies. If I unlock the secret, I’ll post a follow up comment tonight!)

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All this talk about treats made me wonder, do you like little ones spread out or big ones?

If you’re looking for a nifty, but simple gift, consider this idea I came up with to help a friend. She’d drawn a name for Secret Santa, but had no clue what to surprise the woman with for five days. The only thing we knew was that she liked food. My brainstorm was to use printed recipes paired with a Christmas carol plus a small token in relation. For example: We Wish You A Merry Christmas with a recipe for Figgy Pudding and a cup (of good cheer). All we had to do was find a website with the song lyrics, Google recipes and pick up Christmas themed items at the local Dollar Store.

I also had the smashing idea to do a treasure hunt for my twin based on our favorite movie at the time—Ever After. I’d created the perfect clues, gotten all my little gifts to hide, and then…we had a blizzard. But I prevailed and even strung up Dollar Store white lights around all the trees in the backyard. Unfortunately it didn’t dawn on me that I needed a plug, so I had to use a few dropcords rigged up in a row from the house.

Are you wondering what the super-duper prize at the end was? A book I’d polished off only a week before called Two Desperate Women, One Single Man & the Wedding of A Century starring, you guessed it, my sister who played a dog groomer/girlfriend of an FBI agent being stalked by a serial killer. My twin and I trudged through the snow side-by-side and shivered in the freezing cold as she deciphered clues, but she ended up getting her Happily Ever After.

What is the best treat you’ve ever gotten—big or small?

I’d have to say one that still stands out for me was an original Optimus Prime Transformer, which my then single mom threatened to do bodily harm over if I snooped. Of course, my twin and I found it and Megatron hidden in the back of her closet. When my bf found out, he began to covet Optimus as one of my assets. *grin*

Tuesday, December 12, 2006

Holiday Treats - Lamingtons - An Aussie Classic

Here's my holiday treat from Down Under. Lamingtons are small squares of sponge cake dipped in melted chocolate and coated in desiccated coconut. I made tons of these when I was a kid for school fetes and on those long summer days when I loved to bake and had oodles of time to do it. Enjoy! :)

3 eggs
1/2 cup castor sugar
3/4 cup self-raising flour
1/4 cup cornflour
15g (1/2oz) butter (softened)
3 tablespoons hot water

Beat eggs until thick and creamy and gradually add the sugar, beating until the sugar is completely dissolved. Fold in sifted SR flour and cornflour, then combined water and butter. Pour mixture into prepared square tins 18cm x 28cm (7in x 11in).

Bake in moderate oven for approximately 30 mins Let cake stand in pan for 5 min before turning out onto wire rack.

3 cups desiccated coconut
500g (1lb) icing sugar
1/3 cup cocoa
(extra cocoa can be added, according to taste)
15g (1/2oz) butter
1/2 cup milk

Sift icing sugar and cocoa into heatproof bowl. Stir in butter and milk.
Stir over a pan of hot water until icing is smooth and glossy.

Trim brown top and sides from cake (the sponge cake is easier to handle if made the day before) and cut into 16 even pieces. Holding each piece on a fork, dip each cake into icing. Hold over bowl a few minutes to drain off excess chocolate. Toss in coconut or sprinkle to coat. Place on oven tray to set.

Recipe is courtesy of

Monday, December 11, 2006

Holiday Treats - Critters - Easy Chocolate Fudge

Since Lynda started it, I had to add another chocolate recipe to the mix today. After all, what are the holidays without lots of sweets?

This recipe is my all time favorite because it’s so fast and easy. For quick gift ideas, I’ve filled up candy dishes, fancy boxes and even painted flower pots with homemade fudge and gotten raves about it!

You’ll need:

1 14oz. Can of sweetened, condensed milk
3 6oz. Packages of semi-sweet chocolate chips [also works with flavored chips and white chocolate chips too!]

½ cup butter
1/8 tsp. Salt
2 cups pecan or walnut halves [optional]
2 tsp. Vanilla extract

Place chips in a large microwave safe bowl. In a separate bowl, melt butter in the microwave [about 1-2 minutes on high]. Pour over chips and add sweetened condensed milk. Stir well. Chips will begin to melt. When blended, place in microwave for one minute. Stir again. Repeat just until chocolate is melted, using one-minute intervals only.
Add vanilla and nuts and stir well.

Drop by tablespoons onto cookie sheets lined with wax paper and store in refrigerator for several hours to harden.

Holiday Treats -- Super Gooey Chocolate Drops

First I've a bit of promo work to do, hope you all don't mind. Tomorrow Dec 12, Chatting with Joyfully Reviewed will host a bunch of us Triskelion authors. I'll be popping in and out as much as I can. Then on Friday, we're having Freaky, Futuristic Friday on the Triskelion Book and Fever loops. We've got some terrific authors lined up (ahem, me included :D), contests and excerpts. So if you can, you ought to try to be there. (Email me if you need instructions on how to join the loops)

This week, we're talking about Holiday Treats, one of the fabulous ideas from Jennifer (who I think will also be posting today.) I'll be sharing a recipe I just discovered so read on for the details :D

Christmas is the time of year that we all want to make memories for our families. And often those memories involve food: Roast turkeys or hams, sweet potatoes, green bean casseroles. And we often top it off with a sumptious dessert.

But, truth be told, my family prefers fresh baked cookies or sweetbreads (Santa does like his eggnog and cookies, you know) And every year I turn into 'Betty Crocker' and fire up the oven. I have to admit I adore the smell of cookies or breads fresh from the oven, the warm, sweet aroma wafting all through the house. And I can always tell when I've got a winner (ahem, anything short of burned is a winner according to my family of 'Cookie Monsters') when I see them dancing impatiently beside the stove waiting for the first still warm cookie, LOL

I'm diabetic but I'll allow myself to have one cookie if it's just a tiny bit scorched (my favorite kind :D) After that, it's all for the dear husband and darling daughter. Their eyes grow wide with delight when they see the dozens and dozens of cookies (I do a variety--peanut butter, sugar cookies, rum balls, nut cookies--and none of them ever get turned down.

But I'm a chocoholic from way back and, as members of my newsgroup are aware, it isn't dessert, or a treat, unless it has chocolate :D So if I'm going to share a recipe here in honor of our theme week, it's going to have chocolate. I'll confess right now I just got this recipe from The Food Networks 12 Days of Cookies but I plan on trying it out as soon as my kitchen remodel is finished. If you make it, be sure to let me know how you like it. Oh, and if you a good chocolate recipe, you can share that too :D

Super Gooey Chocolate Drops

1/2 cup (1 stick) unsalted butter
4 ounces unsweetened chocolate, chopped
4 ounces semisweet chocolate, chopped
1 cup packed light brown sugar
1 1/2 cups granulated sugar
1 teaspoon pure vanilla extract
4 large eggs
2 tablespoons buttermilk
1 cup all-purpose flour
1/2 cup natural cocoa powder, such as Hershey's or Scharffen Berger
1 teaspoon ground cinnamon
1/2 teaspoon salt
11 ounces (1 bag) semisweet chocolate chunks
1 cup dried cherries (optional)

Position racks in the lower and upper third of the oven and preheat to 325 degrees F. Line 3 baking sheets with parchment or silicone mats. (If you don't have 3 pans, simply cool the pan between batches.)

Put the butter and the unsweetened and semisweet chocolates in a medium microwave-safe bowl. Heat at 75 percent power in the microwave until soft, about 2 minutes. Stir and heat again until melted, up to 2 minutes more. (Alternatively, put the chocolates and butter in a heatproof bowl. Bring a saucepan filled with an inch or so of water to a very slow simmer; set the bowl over, but not touching the water, and stir occasionally until melted and smooth.)

Stir the light brown and granulated sugars and vanilla into the chocolate mixture with a wooden spoon. Add the eggs and buttermilk and beat vigorously until thick and glossy.

In another bowl, whisk the flour, cocoa, cinnamon and salt together. Add the dry ingredients to the wet and stir until just mixed. Stir in chocolate chunks and dried cherries, if using.

Drop the batter in heaping tablespoons onto baking sheets--a small ice cream scoop is ideal for this. Space the cookies about 2-inches apart. Bake until the cookies set but are soft and fudgy on the inside, 12 to 15 minutes.

Cool cookies on the baking sheet for 5 minutes, then transfer to a rack to cool completely. Serve.

Saturday, December 09, 2006

Christmas shopping

This morning Mum and I went downtown to finish off most of the Christmas shopping. Fortunately, the side of town we went to was rather quiet, as most of the action on a Saturday morning is at the Northgate Shopping Center, away from the mall.

The only places I heard Christmas music, or saw any decorations, was in the cheap shops. You know the ones? King Kong, 2 Buck Shop, Red Dot. How sad is that? I LOVE Christmas music at Christmas. I would have thought the big shops would have been playing Christmas music and having the deco up...

Anyway, I've decided Chritsmas is what you make it. We have our Christmas music playing, and Mum is going to decorate the house as usual. The cats will help her and I'll enjoy the entertainment of that, I can tell you!

And have you seen the ebooks and trade paperback books out that have a Christmas theme? Trsikelion have a few, that much I know. I think it would be awesome to give romance books with a Christmas theme to a bookworm for Christmas. Awesome! Do a search on Christmas books at the different ebook and trade paperback publishers and see what you come up with!

I LOVE getting books for Christmas. Well, I love getting books anytime, so...LOL

So if you're wondering what to get some people for Christmas, why not introduce them to an ebook? You can open up a whole new world to them! There are so many historical, horror, romances in different genres, YA, mystery - almost everything available!

Speaking of which, I've been catching up on my own reading since finishing my last WIP. Now I find myself looking at my list of other books I want to write and debating debating debating...LOL

So many books to read, so many to write - and so little time to do all!


Thursday, December 07, 2006

Loss of an Editor

I got an email today that shook my little corner of the world. One of my favorite editors wrote me to say she was leaving my publisher. (No, I am not going to reveal either name or publisher because I don't know if she's made this information public yet.) - I understand that people move around, change places or decided to take a different direction, but this is a person who loved my work, and raved about it when she read it...I much more positive of a response can you get?

Saying I'm sorry to see her go is an understatement - I'm devestated. She is both easy going and wondeful to work with. A real dream editor. What if the other editors there don't like my work? Well, contractually that means little since they have first dibs, but ultimately if they pass on the work, I can send elsewhere. So I'm not totally out if they do turn it down. But I love this publisher so I want to continue submitting to them...not that I won't...this is coming out in a jumbled emotional tidalwave. What I'm saying is...I hate to see her go, but when I first submitted to the publisher in '05, I didn't know a soul there and I still sold to them, so does it really change anything? Hopefully not. Though I already write for them, I could still get rejected on subsequent work, as each piece must stand on its own merit. And now I have no clue who is going to handle the paranormal and futuristic pieces. ughhhhhh...

I know this happens frequently in the writing business, and we have to suck it up and deal, keep our chins up and continue to trudge along. At least I'm not an orphan, like I've read happens to some writers when their publishers close entire lines and they are having to find other places to publish. Now that would be truly devestating. Heartbreaking.

And yet I continue to write. I continue to submit. I continue to strive for that ultimate goal: name recognition and a loyal fan base.

I wish much good luck and fortune to my editor in her new path, whatever it may be. To the rest of you, I ask: has this ever happened to you and what did you do?


Wednesday, December 06, 2006

The Season of Avarice

When I opened my mailbox today, I found the usual assortment of junk, garbage in envelopes, ad circulars, hey! a royalty check, woohoo!, and...this big, glossy, sharp-looking magazine with a hunky asian guy on the cover. Okay, so maybe he might not be dressed in a thong and flexing his muscles, but he was wearing a nice suit and had a twinkle in his eye that made the romance writer in me wonder what the story was (and the erotica writer in me wonder if he was going commando under that suit, and where his tattoos are). So I open the magazine, figuring it's probably the neighbors' since we don't subscribe to any magazines as part of the great Household Paper Reduction Act of 2002.

It's a hi-gloss production. Full of beautiful spreads of hi-definition TVs, flat-screen, wall-mounted home theater setups (with that mustard-paint and dark cherry wood stain combination that just screams to me "Homearama" - maybe because I first saw it at a Homearama house and everybody and their brother has copied it since then), and shirt-pocket sized gadgets that do everything but make coffee (because nobody wants coffee with man-boob in it).

Well, my eyes they did alight upon a technological wonder that melted away my scorn of the Season of Avarice under the bright laser-hot technology of eInk displays and had me doing Michael Douglas impersonations--rubbing my hands and cackling, "Greed is Goooooood!"

I remember reading about eInk several years ago. It was vapor-ware at the time, yet it made its way into my subcoscious enough so that I used a form of it for the Newssheet technology in my futuristic in the "A Witch In Time" Anthology. But to have it here, and able to be held in my hot little hands in the form of the Sony EReader... 'scuse me for a moment while I go have a minute to my own g33k self.

I mean, the thing reads friggin' manga! Meeble.

Yes, I'm ignoring for the moment the necessity of downloading and buying from the Sony Connect store, or the fact that I hear it's not so hot with the PDFs. I want one. But alas, it's not to be. At least not until the pricetag takes a nosedive and the in-house technology consultant gives a green light.

Until then, I'll content myself with the guy on the cover.

Tuesday, December 05, 2006

Show Miis

If any of you out there have the grand thing called Wii, you know what I'm talking about when I refer to Miis. For those of you that don't, they are little electronic characters based on the player which can be programmed pretty darn close to the real thing. You can set height, weight, hair color, eye color, lip shape, age marks, makeup, etc.

Maybe it's this lingering head cold I got from waiting 3 hours in the freezing weather to nab one, but I had the trippy idea of making my characters into a menagerie of Miis. I asked my boyfriend, whose property the Wii is, and he looked at me if I really had lost my mind. So while he was in his office, I booted that baby up and proceeded to play Frankenstein. Mwahaha!

After about twenty minutes, I had my main cast of characters following random Wii programming as the Shandars bowed when they popped on the screen, Zara and Awyn went head to head, and CHIRI decided to check all the other Miis out. Of course CHIRI isn't a metallic box as she appears in most of TIES OF VALOR. I made her as she pictured herself--blonde and bodacious with the addition of a beauty mark. While I sat there watching her walk about, I thought hmmm...what would the sentient computer do with a body?

At first it felt weird to see my characters plodding around in the Plaza, or even meandering with others in a Parade, but picture the coolness of seeing them pop up as players on my Wii Baseball team! I mean how awesome is it to have your movements translate to Mii characters inside games when they'd previously existed only in your imagination?

Kooky is exactly what my boyfriend thought when I showed him my masterpieces. He started laughing, his belly shaking, and wouldn't tell me WHY it was so funny. What do you think--cool or crazy? And if you want me to share them with you in Wii universe, I'll figure out a way to beam TIES OF VALOR's Who's Who to you.

Monday, December 04, 2006

Discipline and the Writer

I've just taken a month off writing and am now blinking at my list of projects as I decide which one to start on next. Wisdom dictates I ease back in with the one I know will be easiest or more fun to write, but they're all stories I've been planning for a while and am itching to write. What happens when you take personal time, however, is that your writing muscle seems to atrophy. Much like exercising, you have to go through the aches and pains, the stops and starts, all over again. The flow seems to dry up.

It seems when you sign up to the writing gig you're taking on a lifestyle. Writing is a way of life. It seems that those who write religiously every day are those that seem to be more prolific, whereas those who take breaks seem to find it harder to climb back on the writing horse again. The procrastination bug seems to bite them hard, the blank page seems impossible to fill, and disaster and despair looms as the resulting fear blocks any creativity.

I've always been fascinated by prolific writers who can write up to 9 or 10 full novels a year with relative ease. I've pored over their working methods, thinking to emulate them if I just found out their 'secret'. It seems to be bum in seat however for x number of hours a day. Nothing mysterious about that, just an iron will that enforces a strict discipline. Came rain or shine, they're tapping away at their keyboard. Ideas seem never-ending to these writers, the words seem to flow, characters appear and interact, the story ends - and on to the next book.

Apart from the discipline, a great number of them seem to write with their internal completely switched off. The first draft is written fast and furiously, just getting it all down. Editing is reserved for the second and future drafts. I've noted a number of modern prolific authors who do this: Nora Roberts/JD Robb and Lyn Viehl (who explains this method in her ebook The Way of the Cheetah), and other-era writers such as Barbara Cartland, Enid Blyton, Georges Simenon and John Creasey - who all vie for the title of the most prolific author ever with up to 600 titles on their resumes.

I think you need to be a little bit driven to reach these dizzy heights in production, however. While I long to be amongst their number for sheer volume I haven't the discipline or, I suspect, the Type A personality necessary to achieve it. I'm fascinated by what motivates them, however. I can't imagine it's just the money. Most of them were wealthy well before their deaths, and their output barely suffered afterwards. So what do you think would motivate someone to achieve this kind of production?

Friday, December 01, 2006

Winding Up the Year

It’s that time again. December is here [though you wouldn’t know it in Northern NJ where the weather feels more like spring today], and there’s so much to do before the year is over.

My TO DO list is overflowing with chores: clean the house really good [that one’s always on there], finish Christmas shopping [I start in October usually], wrap the presents, write out Christmas cards, finish my WIPs, bake some goes on and on.

What’s on your TO DO list this time of year? Do you go into overdrive mode like I do? I try to cram as much as I can into each day. I keep lists, stack things up on my desk that need to be done so I’ll remember to go through them, jot notes on my calendar and generally run around like a nut.

Oddly, I don’t mind it. There’s something about the holidays that energize me. Come January, I’m like a clock in the Dali painting, and I’m quite content just to drape myself over the nearest piece of furniture and ruminate on all I’ve accomplished in December.

I know people who are the opposite. They drag through the holidays, stressed by all the activity, then bounce back into the swing of things at New Years ready to start the calendar from the beginning again. Which one are you?

Here’s a few things to add to your TO DO list [in case it’s looking a little sparse]

Hop over to Two Voices and check out my new contest. It’s easy to enter!

Scroll down and read Lynda’s post from yesterday. She has some great excerpts from her book, Heartstone!

Keep coming back to Star Crossed in December and check out our upcoming Holiday Treats Week, our Contest Week, our Christmas Photo Week and our New Year’s Resolution Week!

Buy more books. You can never have enough stuff to read.

Thursday, November 30, 2006

Other World Environments

Yesterday we had a near record high temperature of 66 degrees. Tomorrow, the forecast is for snow and possibly freezing rain. Changeable weather is one of the joys of living in Michigan–Not. But the weather here inspired my subject for today...other world environments.

I think it’s easier to set our futuristic/SF romance on a planet with a similar environment to what we have here on Earth. Easier for us to write, easier for our readers to understand. It makes sense because our characters are human. Obviously they’re not going to be able to breathe poisonous gas or survive in conditions hazardous to human like...not for long anyway.

But too often I find most fictional other worlds are an almost exact copy of Earth. Oh, the names of flora and fauna may change but a rose is a rose by any other name, true? And as speculative fiction writers, we’re urged to call a cup of coffee...well, coffee. Why? Because odd words are confusing to readers. Okay, this makes sense too. But what do you call a fruit that has no equal on Earth? A blue-strawberry-banana apple? That’s a bit cumbersome. When Keriam and Eric (Heartstone) stop for a rest, he finds some native fruits to eat. Keriam, of course, has never seen these fruits before. All she knows is what she sees–they’re blue and round–then what she smells. Here’s how I resolved that issue.

The man chuckled, a deep warm sound of genuine amusement, as he pulled a narrow-bladed knife from his belt. He slid the knife through the succulent fruit, removing a wedge-shaped piece. The scent, a subtle blend of berry and banana with a tiny edge of citrus, wafted to her nose. This time her stomach rumbled like a freight train.
He lifted the wedge to her mouth. His unspoken message–she would eat from his hand or not at all–was clear. Tempted to tell him to take the exotic food and stuff it, her traitorous mouth opened instead. He slowly placed it in her mouth. As her lips closed around the fruit, taste exploded on her tongue.
Sweet with just an edge of acidic tartness, the fruit seemed to melt on her tongue. She chewed slowly, savoring the taste. Swallowing, she looked up and found him watching her intently.
"This is a tepe'en." His voice was oddly strangled as he offered the name of the fruit. His fingers glistened from the juice as he cut another slice. "It's native to Neraldi and to this continent in particular. We import quite a bit of it to Antiare. Most of our people consider it a delicacy."

Since this story is set on several planets other than Earth, I also had to have a bit of description about them. Neraldi, the first planet Keriam encounters, has a binary star overhead. Here’s a small description as seen from Keriam’s point of view.

She didn't have any idea where she was but she wasn't on Earth. That was obvious from the large, pink-orange sun and its small yellow companion. Even without that, the sight of the delicate winged-lizards leaping from branch to branch would have convinced her. If she hadn't been attacked by a mutant and kidnapped by an alien, she would have been gawking like a Tokyo tourist.
The trees grew in an odd triad formation, three boles rooted companionably together. The color of burnt cork, they were festooned with long, narrow leaves that glistened with a silvery aqua color and rustled in the light breeze. The central bole of each tree cluster hosted branches laden with tiny green berries.
As she trudged onward, she realized the small lizard-birds favored those berries both on the branches and where they had fallen on the forest floor. Keriam thought the little creatures resembled nothing less than wildly colored blossoms. And while they fluttered like busy little bees, they didn't appear to nest or roost in the trees. She watched, curious in spite of herself, as one ruby-colored creature waddled to a slightly raised patch of earth then flipped head over heels into its burrow.

These are things that a normal person would automatically observe when faced by a new experience. Colors, scent, plant and animal life (she later learns that the lizard-birds are called linlies) can provide warnings or clues as to the kind of place you’re in. They can provide life and death types of clues or warnings...if you know what to look for. In this next bit, you’ll see how Keriam reacts when she first sees a bursi.

The linlies fell silent, a living barometer of danger. Every line in Eric's powerful body tensed as he slowly scanned the surrounding woods. Keriam's heart kicked into overdrive. Her flesh tingled as she realized something was out there. Her mouth went dry.
Eric's sword hissed as it left its scabbard, breaking the deathly silence. He gestured her behind him as he faced the thick line of trees to their left.
She heard a noise; a twig snapped in the bosky depths of the forest. Eric turned slightly, orienting himself to the sound.
"What is it?"
He gave a single, impatient shake of his head.
The undergrowth rustled, shook. A heavy grunt broke the silence. Another. Frantically, Keriam glanced around for a weapon as she heard the sound of something large and in a sudden hurry.
It was coming right at them. Her hand settled on a thick branch.
Then a large, hairy creature burst out of the underbrush. Covered with patches of jewel colors, the animal looked as if it had been dipped into one too many cups of Easter egg dye. It was big, a monster-sized bull-shaped creature with a long, barbed tail. Tiny red eyes blinked at them as a pink tongue whipped between smiling, fleshy lips.
Keriam almost laughed–the creature looked so odd, almost cartoonish. Then it opened its mouth to reveal a wide muzzle filled with sharp, yellowed teeth and she didn't want to laugh at all.

Animals that have evolved on a planet beyond Earth may bear a resemblance to Earthly creatures. At least at first glance. But we as writers can’t go into the history of their evolution. We have to make it understandable to normal us :D

Neraldi has plants and animals, forests and lakes, not too unlike our own. But Keriam ends up fighting the Gawan on the first planet it captured. Purlea, she learns, was a terraformed planet (yes, I had to use terraformed even though terra means Earth) but after the Gawan takes over, the mechanics of that terraforming are left in disarray and the planet begins returning to its natural condition. Here’s the description of that planet. (Oh, and Froggie, in the selection below, is a linlie who adopted Eric.)

The landscape was just as barren, bleak and desolate as it had looked on the holo-image. The wind moaned across the rocky plains like a tortured demon. Keriam pulled her cap down and her collar up to protect her face from the blowing dust and grit. The only signs of life were low, sulky bushes and a sooty yellow grass that hugged the ground stubbornly. Keriam thought it would be better off if it let go and flew into space. Eric resettled the pack on his shoulders after Froggie took wing. "Let's go."
With his long-legged stride, he set a brisk pace aiming for the red splotch on the horizon that had to be the singular mountain she'd seen in the holo-image.
In single file, with Keriam in the middle and Eric in the lead, they set off toward the rising sun. Froggie quickly resumed his perch on Eric's shoulder, tucking his head under a leathery wing. The plains weren't flat, she discovered. The land actually dipped and swelled like a vast, frozen sea. Small, bloated plants with waving filaments broke the surface like fishermen in solitary clumps. Whatever those filaments meant to attract, Keriam hoped not to see.
Here and there, when the wind died, puffs of bilious yellow gas burst out of the ground like tiny stinking farts. Obviously, Purlea would never draw tourists in its present condition.
They stopped at mid-morning, then again at noon, to rest and eat. Beyond the ever-present dust devils and a few high clouds, nothing moved. It was easy to imagine they were alone on the planet, but she knew that Purlea teemed with Gawan-spawn. And soon, at dawn the next day, the city and its nearby Defense Base would be bombarded.

Other worlds visited by our characters can be very Earth-like but they don’t have to be identical. Our characters see these unearthly landscapes in terms they understand. And I think it’s important that they see it in terms that reflect their fears or chances of survival. Those who read SF/futuristic/speculative romance are looking for something that takes them past Earth and its normal environs. They’re looking for adventure and new experiences and, yes, romance at its best. These readers are some of the smartest, most intelligent people around and it’s our job to satisfy them.

“Heartstone by Lynda K. Scott is an adventure that starts almost from the beginning of the book. Although there were times that I had difficulties with some of the terms, it was easy enough to follow the story. I enjoyed the interaction between the characters and was fascinated by the worlds the author had created. Although the story of these characters was completed in this book, it is obvious that the back-story can continue and I would be interested in seeing what happens next.”
Reviewed by Kathy Andrico, Joyfully Reviewed

Wednesday, November 29, 2006

ah - that sweet taste of - THE END!

I love my characters and I love my books, but you know what is the ultimate in satisfaction? When you type The End - and you know you've given the story the best you can.

As most people know here, my current book has been a battle. I mean, not only is it romance, and sci-fi, but it does have a streak of violence, mainly because of the story line and the characters involved. The characters, the main hero and heroine, aren't sweet, aren't gentle, but nor are they cruel. They are strong, cold at times, very calm and controlled. So deviation of this has to be for a reason.

I'm a big believer in that characters need to be what they're portrayed, hence if I have a tough heroine/hero, that's what you're going to get.

These two characters and I have fought for at least half of the book. But then, as the deadline loomed, I started burning the candle at both ends (you know, on nights off work writing until 3 or 4am, falling into bed to read for another half hour [of course] then up at 9 or 10am and back to the keyboard). I lived and breathed these characters, and the story suddenly started to pull together.

I finished their story on Saturday afternoon. I had sniffled through a scene in the early hours of Sat morning, had a few hours sleep, and tackled them again, knowing I was nearly finished. When I typed The End, I sat back and looked at it.

It was The End. The end of about three months of internal and external conflict with these characters and the story. Did I do the characters justice? Had I done the readers justice? Many have been waiting for these two to finally have their story. Have I done the villains justice, the side characters, the plot, the story-line?

To that, I can answer yes. It's one of the hardest stories I've written, but it was never going to be easy with these two characters. But the satisfaction of finally having finished, knowing I'd done the best I can...that was a huge reward. And strangely enough, after our fights, I am fond of these two characters, I'm drawn to them. I guess living and breathing and fighting with them for three months has pretty much ingrained them in me LOL.

I have submitted, and now is the waiting game. Is it too violent, too 'hot', too...something? Ah the self-doubts of a writer! Sending our 'baby' into the world is always scary LOL. Now I will see what the response is.

Meanhwile The End may have come for this couple, but it's not the complete The End. Side characters often pop up in my other books, and no doubt these two have their little roles to play in other stories, so it's not the last of them.

Yep, it's The End for this particular couple's story, but now there's something else to think about. Another story, another couple, another's never really The End, is it, in the world of books and romance?

So now, I'm having a week or two off writing, catch up on emails, watch a little TV, read some books...oh yeah, and go to work - that never ends! LOL then it's on to a new adventure in a galaxy full of possibilities and promises!!!


Monday, November 27, 2006

My Turn to be Thankful

I know it's a few days late...but my turn in the rotation came up, and my turn to be thankful. This year, I'm thankful I didn't have to cook. I don't do large dinners so well. Hell, sometimes I don't do small dinners all that well, either.

This love/hate thing with the kitchen began in my early years. As a latchkey kid, I took on an early responsibility for dinner. I'd come home most nights to something large and lumpy in the big roasting pan, covered (mercifully) with aluminum foil, and a note from my mother to put it in at 350 for 45 minutes, take the tinfoil off, and use the turkey squirter to put the juice over the top of it. What eventually emerged an hour or so later was a lump of roasted meat--beef, chicken, or pork, it didn't matter--and potatoes and vegetables of various sorts that had been slowly starved of stiffness under the onslaught of meat drippings with phenomenal corrosive power, thanks to the ten million little envelopes of Onion Soup mix that filled our cupboards to bursting on a regular basis.

By the time my mom got home, it would be time to make the gravy. I'd stand next to her and tell her about my day while she made gravy. I watched it enough times that I thought I could do it, so in third grade one day, I decided I was going to do it before Mom got home, and wouldn't she be surprised and maybe realized I was "mature" enough to handle having a Barbie RV to play with. I was pretty confident I knew what to do. Just put the white stuff in the juices little by little until it turned thick. So I opened the cupboard, and brought in the bobcat to shovel away the envelopes of onion soup to get to the stuff behind it.

Flour--white stuff, baking soda--white stuff, baking powder--white stuff, corn starch--white stuff.

Well, I knew it wasn't flour--you only used flour if there was chicken in the roasting pan, and then you mixed it with milk and blobbed it on top to bake the last fifteen minutes and called it "dumplings"--probably because you dumped them out for the dog when Mom wasn't looking.

Baking soda--well, that was the stuff you put in the fridge next to the onions to keep the whole fridge from smelling like onions. You dumped it into the bathtub when you had poison ivy to keep from itching. Gravy didn't itch, though, so baking soda was out.

Corn starch--what the heck was corn starch. Dad complained when there was too much starch in his shirts--good lord, he'd hit the roof if I put it in his gravy. Because if there was one thing Dad liked, it was his gravy over potatoes and buttered bread. And everything else. French fries, carrots, and probably apple pie, if he thought he could get away with it. Okay, so corn starch was out.

That left baking powder. In it went. Just a little at first. The encouraging little bubbles that frothed up made things look murkier than clear pan drippings and I thought that was a great sign. But things weren't thickening. So I added a little more and turned up the heat.

Mom came home and I impressed her with my hop-to-it-iveness. I went back to my gravy masterpiece and she gave me a pass for setting the table and did it herself. She seemed pleased I was finally showing interest in "girly" things. "Interesting" was a word that would come up later. Along with several unprintable invectives...

Meanwhile, I was showing interest all right. My gravy started to bubble. Aha! I thought. Here's the part where the thickening happens. It'll bubble, and get thick, and I'll turn around and--hey, Dad's home, just in time to see his budding Julia Child!

And the gravy bubbled on. I left it to go greet Dad (something that involved rooting in his bag and looking for dum-dums). Finally, my mother went over to the stove.

"Did you just start this?"

"No, mom. I put a bunch of stuff in it a while ago."

"Stuff?" She gave the gravy a stir while I told Dad that I made the gravy and I cooked the dinner because man, I was The Shit.

It was a vigorous stir, unlike the delicate swipes I'd been giving the pan. Dad peeked over Mom's shoulder just in time to hear the singe of scalded gravy, and with the release of heat, the baking soda in the bottom of the pan frothed up, mixing with the rest of the drippings in a chemical orgy that shot up six inches in the air, spreading over the burners, the counter, and a little of the backsplash behind the stove.

"Volcano!" my little brother yelled from the table.

My mother had gamely poured off what she could of the volcano gravy into the gravy boat and set it out. Since I was the cook, I ladled the gravy over my meat and had the dubious pleasure of the sensations of chewy roast mixed with the effervescence normally reserved for carbonated beverages. To this day, I think I can safely say that I'm the only person in the world who has the experience of enjoying meat soda. My brother delighted in taking the ladle to give the gravy a stir, mixing up the baking soda from the bottom for a fresh round of bubbling frothiness.

That evening, we enjoyed a very dry meal. For my mom and dad, each bite forced its way past lips folded tightly against teeth. Many years later I learned that they were trying hard not to laugh. I don't know if I believe it or not, since I never did get that Barbie RV.

But I can name several members of my family who are also exceedingly thankful every year when it turns out to be not my turn again to host dinner.

Friday, November 24, 2006

Many Thanks

I don't know where to begin. I'm thankful for so many things this year. For my husband for supporting me and being my biggest cheerleader for my writing. For Red Sage for being the first on the block to take a chance on me in a format longer than a short story. For Triskelion for seeing merit in my novels and sending me those oh so lovely contracts. I'm thankful for my ability to come up with stories--sometimes not so original--but undeniably mine. I'm thankful for my wonderful critique partners who show me my faults and help me to strengthen my writing. I'm thankful that I found the RWA and my NJ chapter along with the other chapters I'm a member of.

I can't believe this year has almost come to a close. It moves so fast when you're working to finish projects and write faster, and doing edits, and even drags while you wait for conferences, wait for your books to come out, and wait for that one call that says an agent will represent you, or an editor has offered you a multi-book deal. Yes, even with contracts and books coming out I'm still expanding my horizons and trying to publish my fantasy series. I'm still in the pursuit of an agent. And maybe...just maybe next year I'll have even more to be thankful for.


Wednesday, November 22, 2006

I know it's a day early....

But I wanted to say Happy Thanksgiving to everyone. Even if you don't celebrate the holiday, I hope you have a wonderful day.

I love Thanksgiving for a lot of reasons, chief among them being any excuse to sit down to an enormous meal and eat without guilt. But I also like that it's the kick off of the holiday season. As busy as we are these days, I still enjoy this time of year. Another reason I love Thanksgiving is Black Friday. Most people probably cringe at that. I'm not one of those people who heads off to the mall at 6:00 AM hunting bargains. In fact, between now and December 26th, I won't go near the mall. The day after Thanksgiving is a free holiday. It's not a federal holiday but most places of business give you the day off - unless you work in retail in which case, my heart goes out to you. Or the medical profession, in which case you're probably also swamped right now.

Those of us in the business world get the day off just because it's a Friday after a holiday and let's face it, who would really show up?

I put my tree up on Black Friday and sometimes I bake cookies or put something cinnamony in the oven to make the place smell Christmassy.

Finally, I love Thanksgiving because I get to be with family that I don't see very often. We sit around and reminisce. I love hearing stories about the old days and family members long gone. It gives me a feeling of being connected and I like that.

So, whatever you do on Thanksgiving, I hope you get some time to slow down and relax, even if its only for a little while. Enjoy!

Tuesday, November 21, 2006

People for a Reason, a Season or a Lifetime?

Since its two days until Thanksgiving, I figured I needed to find a message that expressed the sentiment of the season. My musing led me to recall a profound e-mail I'd received from my aunt a few days earlier. It said:

People come into your life for a reason, a season or a lifetime. When you know which one it is, you will know what to do for that person.

When someone is in your life for a REASON, it is usually to meet a need you have expressed. They have come to assist you through a difficulty, to provide you with guidance and support, to aid you physically, emotionally or spiritually. They may seem like a godsend and they are. They are there for the reason you need them to be.

Some people come into your life for a SEASON, because your turn has come to share, grow or learn. They bring you an experience of peace or make you laugh. They may teach you something you have never done. They usually give you an unbelievable amount of joy. Believe it, it is real. But only for a season!

LIFETIME relationships teach you lifetime lessons, things you must build upon in order to have a solid emotional foundation. Your job is to accept the lesson, love the person and put what you have learned to use in all other relationships and areas of your life. It is said that love is blind but friendship is clairvoyant.

When I reflect on the message contained within these words I can't help but think of my friends...and not just any plain old friends. I'm talking about my writing friends. Over the years I've been in RWA I've delighted in meeting other women (and a few men) who share my passion for love, romance and making the best darn Happily Ever After. We are a special breed, especially those of us who venture into the unknown worlds of the paranormal, futuristic and fantasy realms. Eventhough we deal with societies and characters that exist originally in our sometimes overactive imaginations, we still have to get them on the page. And that is where people you've met can be grouped into a reason, a season or a lifetime.

I still recall the first paid workshop I attended at my local RWA chapter in Raleigh. It was Deb Dixon's GMC and Hero's Journey jam-packed into a single day. While there, I was given the fundamentals for Goal, Motivation and Conflict which provides a skeleton for every book I could ever create. I don't think I have to tell any of the writers out there, but this was a lesson that will last throughout my lifetime of writing.

RWA Nationals is the season that comes once a year. I was lucky enough to attend this year in Atlanta, and have never felt so welcome by a large group of strangers. As a mousy, shy introvert, Nationals had me sweating bullets. My pink First Sale ribbon was like Willy Wonka's Golden Ticket. It drew stares, questions, and congratulations that made me beam, even while descending floor-by-floor in an elevator packed sardine-tight with writers eager to get to the next event.

And as of late, I have been inundated by encouragement, advice and commiseration from my friends for a reason. I never expected that the bad news about TIES OF VALOR being pulled from Triskelion's publishing schedule would illicit such a response. And I was honestly surprised that so many people cared about me. Every one of those compassionate e-mails and posts gave me the heart not to give in to tears and not to give up on my dream which is still in my hands to achieve.

So today, lend someone a sympathetic ear, give somebody your honest opinion to help with a problem or just sit beside someone for support. You never know how far or how long one simple action will resonate.

Sunday, November 19, 2006

Weekly Author Spotlight

Starting Monday, November 20, I'll be the featured author at Weekly Author Spotlight.

It's a yahoo group so if you're not a member, you can send a blank email to: (I hope!)

I'll be doing excerpts, chatting and offering some cool prizes.

Mentioning prizes. I'm having two pretty cool prizes for members of my newsletter group (no chat--just a once a month newsletter). All you need do is send a blank email to

If you join and can't find information about the prizes, just email me. I'll give you all the juicy details

Rewriting the Unrewritable

Going through my old files, I found a story I wrote about 10 years ago. Reading it is a painful exercise in the futility of major editing. In order to bring this book up to scratch, I'm going to have to start from page one, sentence one and start all over again. Sometimes that is just easier than fixing an existing file.

It had been about 7 years from the time I finished one draft of By A Silken Thread to the time I did a total rewrite and sold it. - The majority of those seven years (about six years, nine months) it spent stuffed in a drawer somewhere while I worked on other projects. By the time I thought to bring it out of moth balls and mouse droppings, the technology had changed so dramatically, I was forced to update it. But that was all right. In the intervening years, I'd learned a lot about craft, character and plot development and knew I could do much better. I never gave it a second thought about delving in and beginning a fresh draft from the very first word.

-That's how I feel about this book. I call it "Timeless" though I doubt I'll stay with that trite title. It's a reincarnation tale that originally took place between NJ and Scotland. But as I started thinking about this story again about six months ago, I thought why did I bother to set the damn thing in Scotland when NJ has the exact topography I need for the death scenes? This state is so rich in history for the same time period I'd set the original story in. I would have information more readily available, since I live in the area I'm writing about. (Northwestern NJ not far from the Delaware Water Gap).

I can still keep the basic premise and action, reactions ect. but I will need to tighten the cast of characters and make more parallels between the past and present. I think with the changes I'm thinking of I may be able to pull this off.

There is something comforting to me about rewriting a story I've already written a few times. I don't know if it's because the characters have lived inside me so long I no longer feel as if I'm getting to know them, but already am very intimately acquainted with them. Or if it's because I already have a good idea where the story is going, even if I've changed it drastically. There is an inexplicable confidence in rewriting a book from scratch.

Have you ever taken something out of a drawer and totally rewritten it from page one, starting in a brand new file? If so, what are your feelings before, during and after the project?


Friday, November 17, 2006

The POS Draft

I believe I first heard this term from Nora Roberts. In an interview she was describing her very first draft of a novel, the one she just spit out onto the page with no thoughts about editing or word count or even, necessarily how it was all going to end up. She called it her POS. Piece of $hit.

Would that my finished, polished, edited and critiqued draft had the same selling power as Ms. Roberts’s POS. But anyway, that’s what she calls it.

I’ve begun using the term and have added it to my official writing vocabulary. All my first drafts will be called POS from now on. Not because I think of my writing as a POS...though I do have my moments, but because I think it sums up the way we need to look at our very first draft. If you struggle and strain over a first draft, agonizing over the placement of every word and every comma, and you edit it to death, you may never make it to your second draft. Granted you might have something nice when you’re finally finished with that draft, but if it took you four years to complete it what good is it?

I’ve realized the value of getting something down on paper. Just write. That’s one of the best pieces of advice I would give any new writer. Just write. Worry about spelling, grammar, punctuation and the eloquent turn of phrase later. Get the story down and give yourself permission to write a POS because you can fix it. As Ms. Roberts has also said, you can’t fix a blank page.

I know the stuff I’ve been writing feverishly this week isn’t my best work. It’s rough, it’s loose, it smells faintly of old gym socks. But I have glimpsed small kernels of the finished product there amid the onion skins and eggshells. I can dig out those diamonds later and polish them to my heart’s content once I have the story out of my head, where it has begun to fester a bit, and on paper where it can’t give me anymore late night headaches.

Do you write a POS draft? Would you to? The freedom of it is a wonderful thing. Take my advice and give it a try.

Thursday, November 16, 2006


In between grousing about my on-going kitchen remodel and my day job, I’ve been doing some fairly heavy rewrites on my current wip (work in progress for any non-writer types here). I’m at the stage of the first major turning point about one third into the book.

The hero, who hasn’t been entirely truthful to the heroine (she thinks he’s someone he’s not), is going to ‘out’ himself. But the way he has to do it makes him look as if he’s actually betrayed the heroine–revealed her secrets to the authorities and caused her arrest. He’s got his reasons, of course, valid reasons. She doesn’t see that. All she sees is betrayal by a man she was falling in love with.

She’s understandably angry and feeling rather foolish. And even when the hero arrives to break her out of jail, she doesn’t trust him.

He has to get back into her good graces for two reasons. He needs her help to accomplish an important mission and he loves her, can’t imagine a life without her in it. What’s a man to do?

Flowers and candy can’t earn trust. Neither can sweet or charming words. Only selfless acts, some supreme sacrifice perhaps, will do it. Maybe. Trust is, after all, a very fragile thing and once broken is harder than Humpty Dumpty to put back together again.

But it has to be done. Why? Because, in my humble opinion, real love can’t exist without trust. Looking back, I see that as a theme that exists in one form or another in each of my books.

In Heartstone, Keriam has to learn to trust herself before she can trust her hero, Eric. It’s his act of self-sacrifice to save her that spurs her trust and liberates her to love him completely and selflessly. And that allows her to use the Heartstone to fight the Gawan.

Likewise, in Altered Destiny, Liane meets an exact look-alike of her cheating ex-husband in the alternate Earth to which she has been transported. She has to get past her hero’s physical appearance in order to learn to trust him and from that love grows. I was just a little trickier with Altered Destiny and gave her hero trust issues too (what’s good for the goose is good for the gander, no?) But it all worked out in the end. Their love for each other sparked the battle for Earth’s liberation.

But this current wip...the hero is going to have to suffer-a lot-before he earns the heroine’s trust again. The question is how?

Any suggestions?

Wednesday, November 15, 2006

Traveling the stars dilemma!

I've been going great guns with my current WIP. Still fighting the characters a bit, but we've come to an understanding. But now I have a bigger problem, and one I've come across before.

Traveling from one Sector to another, throughout the universe - it all takes time! So much time, in fact, that what becomes a one-way trip that takes 2 weeks, and the return trip 2 weeks, and time in between - before you know it, two months have gone past and they're still trying to get to the major action scene. Even if they have super-duper-you-beaut-never-heard-of-before power thrusters that are faster than the speed of light... or faster than my car, anyway.

Whoa nelly! So now you have to fill the bits in-between with lots of things. Good time for relationship growth, but it needs more than just that, too. It needs action and adventure and hot se- I mean relationship growth, too.

If you're not careful, it can get mighty boring, floating out there, taking two weeks to get anywhere. Six weeks. Two months. There's only so many space pirate attacks to go around, so many settlements to call into to fuel up, etc.

This is where, when writing sci-fi/futuristic with travel to the stars and beyond, where distance is no problem, you have to rein in the trips around the galaxy if you've got a tight-knit story with constricted times for action and drama.

So how do those of you who write such things, handle it?


Monday, November 13, 2006

Future (Im)Perfect

I write Futuristic and Science Fiction Erotic Romance. My characters live, love, and lust after each other in technologically advanced worlds. I'm currently working on two series in two separate universes. One is a near-future universe, where humankind has colonized the inner Solar system. The other is space opera, set in a universe so futuristic and far-removed from Earth that modern existence has faded into the mists of irrelevance--Earth isn't, and perhaps never was. I have other futuristic settings that I've dreamed up over the years as well, but most of them share one common element.

They are imperfect futures.

Two of my favorite fandoms are Star Trek and Star Wars, yet their futuristic settings are vastly different. The future portrayed in Star Trek falls into what I consider the "perfect" category. While far from perfect, it is, by its tone, a future striving towards perfection rather than away from it. The futuristic setting of Star Wars, however, is heading the opposite direction.

I often wonder which type of future we'll really be manifesting. Will we, as a species, reach out to overcome our common problems, like hunger and disease? Or will we allow our imperfections--our ugly and selfish instincts--to take over and create an environment where more and more people are marginalized, and the struggle for survival is a struggle made in a lonely vacuum? And why do I write stories set in dystopic settings when they seem so damn depressing at first glance?

My answer is hope.

A dystopian society presents more of an obstacle to two (three, five, seven, etc.) people finding each other and finding love than a perfect one. Love in an imperfect future is harder...and can be more rewarding. The brightest candle burns in the darkest room, and it has a greater effect.

What kinds of futures do you like to read about?

Friday, November 10, 2006

Don't Steal My Thunder!

We’ve all been witnesses to this crime. That instant when you’re cruising along, then BAM!, a secondary character takes over the show. Out of the blue you’ve been blindsided by this person who is totally charming, relatable, and utterly attention getting to the point of eclipsing the hero and/or heroine.

And that is often times a problem. Anytime part of your main duo loses the reader’s focus is usually a no-no, because if the reader is bonding with someone else, they’re not paying the hero and heroine a lick of attention. Which means they’ve derailed from your plotline and their imagination is saying, “I wonder what happened to [fill in the blank].”

This constitutes the rub. What if you need a cast of characters, call them a family if you will, to flesh out your masterpiece? Sure you can whittle down Aunt Jane and Uncle John Doe to the bare essentials, but Cousin Eric doesn’t want to behave at the reunion. And you kind of like where he’s coming from, though you can’t have him lording himself over everyone. Yet you can’t finagle him into a caricature (or a stereotype) as extra page filler for comic relief, because that would be a waste of a good thing.

The solution? Make your charismatic character integral to the plot, but insert him/her sparingly like strong herbs. That way the reader has to pay attention to the character, possibly even bond with them, but there’s never enough to do more than wet the reader’s appetite. Which can set up a follow-up book, especially if your readers’ lament to the publishing house adamantly enough.

This is exactly what prompted me to brainstorm books for all the Shandar children. In TIES OF VALOR, we meet Awyn, the Prince Regent who can’t assume the throne because of a societal shift. But the nagging question of what would happen to the heir apparent, his sister Anida who’d fallen in love with an off-worlder, hadn’t been shown. Which meant another book. And everyone who’s read the manuscript loved their younger brother Talis, who was outgoing and carefree. (Dare I mention Cousin Eric?) So I knew everyone would want to hear his playboyish tales. That left the middle son, Oron, who never ventured out from his lab in TIES OF VALOR. Though the storyline makes one wonder, just what was he up too with CHIRI, the sentient computer, behind closed doors?

As if I hadn’t learned better (or gotten tired from the neverending story told through several characters) the same thing happened in JUST ONE LIFE. Though in my defense, it’s basic lore that magical power is greater with a trinity of three. My heroine had enough on her plate with dying and being reborn as a cat, so I had my hero stumble across a shapeshifter while browsing in a local bookstore. From that moment, Kass (who was inspired by Ty Pennington) leapt from the page ready to overshadow Kendron, who at first glance seems like a stick-in-the-mud. But I invented a way for him to relate differently to both the hero and heroine, while not inundating the reader with his enthusiasm. To Gwynan he represents a man who tried to save her in ancient France, and Kendron has him cowed to understudy by the star-power of his lineage.

Though I can’t count the number of contest judges who’ve said WE LOVE KASS!, as of yet he doesn’t have a story. I haven’t found the right girl…make that woman, since he needs someone to tamp his spirits down. Lord knows his coven of male buddies would only egg him on if left to their own devices! But they’ve learned an important lesson. If you have a jester who can’t wait to take center stage, wrestle him to the ground, sit on him, and when the time is right let him shine.

Do you have a character whose mouth you'd like to duck tape shut? Or perhaps you've read about one that you wish had a book of his/her own?

Wednesday, November 08, 2006

Why Do Fools Fall in Love?

I’ll admit that I’m fickle when it comes to heroes. Way back in the 70’s it didn’t take me long to get over Shaun Cassidy as Joe in the Hardy Boys Mysteries and fall for Parker Stevenson as Frank. I gave up on Erik Estrada’s Frank Poncherello in CHiPs pretty darn fast and developed a crush on his blond, blue-eyed partner Jon, played by Larry Wilcox. {What ever happened to him, I wonder?} Then along came Mark Harmon in 240-Robert and I was hooked. {Anyone watching him in NCIS?}

Aside from showing my age and how incredibly nerdy I probably was back then, this confession serves to show that romantic heroes come and go. We get over them and we move on.
Case in point – yes, I’m back to talking about Dr. Who. Remember back in June when I wondered how the Tenth incarnation of the doctor would work out, considering his role as the albeit reluctant romantic hero to Rose Tyler? I predicted it would take Rose a while to warm up to this new ‘shell’ that had grown around the man she’d fallen in love with.

I was wrong. After three episodes of Series 2, it’s clear to see that Rose has fallen head over heels and so have I. The new Doctor is a little shorter, probably a little less meaty than the last one, but egads, he’s just adorable. He possesses a joie de vivre that’s contagious, a ready and winning smile and an underlying fierceness that makes him the perfect Gamma hero.

Why, I wonder, is it so easy for me [and Rose] to move on? Well, for Rose I guess it’s because he’s just a new face on the same man. He knows her, he obviously cares deeply for her, and she absolutely, positively can’t tear herself away from the heart stopping life of adventure he offers. For me, it’s because I’m a hopeless romantic [I know, I promised not to use that term, but in this case, I guess I truly am hopeless]. I like love. I love love in fact. I have to or I wouldn’t write about it all the time. If I can’t root for Rose and Dr. No. 9, then I’ll root for Rose and Dr. No. 10. No big deal.

I wonder, would romance readers accept such a change so readily? How would you react to a book – or more accurately – a series of books in which the heroine changed heroes – lost one man and fell in love with another over the course of time? Would it be a turn off, or a new type of adventure? It’s done all the time on television, but would it work in romance novel? It is only true romance if the heroine falls in love only once [I’m not talking about mĂ©nages here, btw]? Or can you simply love love enough to root for the heroine, no matter who she sets her sights on?