The Year in Review

Thanks to everyone for making 2011 an awesome year! This includes all the wonderful authors who were nice enough to play guest for me as well as all my readers.

This past year saw the publication of Twice Is Not Enough, Slave to Innocence (Sins of Sybaris), Tempting Terms, Not Just Friends, Riding Rodeo (Cowboy Kink) and Time-lost Love. (These are all short stories. If you total the word count, I published about 60K last year.)

I was amazed and humbled when Twice is Not Enough passed 1000 copies sold. A heartfelt thanks to all those who purchased it and those who will purchase it. (There is a sequel in the works, and I hope to have it finished in January.)

Also, I was flattered to receive a lovely piece of fan mail from a German reader on Slave to Innocence. This tale was my first departure from the norm since it's predominantly F/F. My goal was to show that love can pass all boundaries and takes many forms. In the New Year, I hope to see my first M/M published. It contains a similar message as well.

Riding Rodeo was my first foray into menage world, and since it was just published in November, I don't have a solid grasp of how it's sales are doing. However, sales aren't the driving force behind the stories I write, the characters are, and I have another menage in the works I hope to submit in the coming year.

Book 3 of Mates of the Guardians: His Capture, Her Rescue is slotted to release in the new year. I believe it will come out in March, but I'll post more when I have a firm date. I'll also be releasing Blood Sword, the first story in a fantasy serial, in the early months of 2012 under the pen name L. J. Maisen.

Finally, I'll be kicking the new year off with a series of interviews featuring unconventional heroines. I hope you'll stop by!

Happy New Year!

Thank you for having me here, Emma, and Happy New Year to everyone.

I’ve been making plans.

Even though I gave up resolutions a few years back—well, quite a few, actually, since I don’t remember the last time I actually made one—I still think up trips and lunches-with-friends and what I’ll plant in the new flower bed alongside the back porch. I plan my wardrobe for summer, because one of my plans is to be thin. Rather, thinner, because at my age thin doesn’t work so well anymore. I look at paint strips from Home Depot and think This for the kitchen. This for the laundry room. This for the living room.

I do the same thing with stories. Not necessarily at New Year’s, but when a book is finished and it’s time to start another, I make plans. I’m a People First writer, so I’m seldom surprised if I’m awakened in the middle of the night by a fully developed set of protagonists with a scene chockfull of conversation and even a little string of conflict. (No plot, of course. I never have a plot. Sigh.) It is as exciting as a trip  or a facelift-by-paint or maybe even being thinner.

Now for the truth of the matter.

Lots of my plans—and my stories—never see fruition. I would love to visit Europe every couple of years but the fact is I’ve been there once. I’d love to have the interior of the house painted but we put it off because we both hate painting and can’t agree on colors. I go way too long without seeing friends. My flower beds are…eclectic at best. My wardrobe is even more so. If I am thinner, stick around a month or two and I’ll likely be chubby again. The heroine and hero who are perfect at three AM may not be so by noon, the conflict will be nebulous, and…what do you mean, I need plot?

The other part of the truth is that it doesn’t matter. Plans are fun and they are important. In our writers’ heads and hearts, our stories are, too. And sometimes, sometimes, as Hannibal Smith would say and frequently did on The A-Team, the plan comes together.

In ONE MORE SUMMER, my January 2 release from Carina Press, the plan did indeed come together. It is the book of my heart and I hope you like it, too. Thanks for coming by.

http://ebooks.carinapress.com/19C28077-E8B2-400A-ACBF-FAE0579EE2F0/10/134/en/Default.htm

http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/one-more-summer-liz-flaherty/1107412429

http://www.amazon.com/One-More-Summer-ebook/dp/B006BE6HAG/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1324908781&sr=8-1

I’d love to have you visit my website http://lizflaherty.com/ or http://wordwranglers.blogspot.com/ where I hang out with some of my best writer friends.

Blurb:

Grace has taken care of her widowed father her entire adult life and the ornery old goat has finally died. She has no job, no skills and very little money, and has heard her father's prediction that no decent man would ever want her so often she accepts it as fact.

But she does have a big old house on Lawyers Row in Peacock, Tennessee. She opens a rooming house and quickly gathers a motley crew of tenants - Promise, Grace's best friend since kindergarten, who's fighting cancer; Maxie, an aging soap opera actress who hasn't lost her flair for the dramatic; Jonah, a sweet gullible old man with a crush on Maxie.

And Dillon, Grace's brother's best friend, who stood her up on the night of her senior prom and has regretted it ever since. Dillon rents Grace's guest house for the summer and hopes to make up for lost time and past hurts - but first, he'll have to convince Grace that she's worth loving...

Excerpt

It was no use.

Grace had taken her lengthy bath in the claw foot tub, shaved her legs and nicked her ankle right on the bone where it hurt most, and put on her chenille robe. She’d poured a tumbler full of the expensive wine Steven had brought a case of and sat on the couch with the book she’d gotten at the library when she’d read to the kids earlier in the week. Louisa May slept on the couch back, twitching her tail occasionally and smacking Grace in the face with it. Rosamunde dozed contentedly in the baseball cap Dillon had left on the lamp table. The window behind the couch was open, affording Grace a cooling breeze scented by the rain that had fallen that evening.

She’d already gotten up once and closed the pocket doors between the living room and the dining room. But she could still hear it.

Laughing. There were Jonah’s guffaw, Maxie’s theatrical trill, and the husky whoop that was always such a surprise coming from Promise’s soprano throat. Now and then another laugh slipped in, quieter than Jonah’s but no less gleeful. Dillon was there too. They sat on the screened porch, a good forty feet from where Grace sat with her feet up, and still she could hear them.

They were playing Monopoly. Grace hadn’t played that since the day before her mother died. She remembered that last game, the board balanced on a bed tray across Debbie Elliot’s legs in the room that smelled of Cashmere Bouquet talcum powder and sickness and medicine. Faith had sat on one side of her mother, Promise on the other, and Grace at the bed’s end.

“Sit on my feet a little, baby,” Debbie had said. “You keep them so nice and warm.”

Grace had won the game, and the next day—when Debbie was dead and life for the rest of the Elliots had irrevocably changed—she had hated herself for buying Boardwalk and Park Place and forcing her mother into bankruptcy.

“I made her die,” she’d told Steven.

“Her heart made her die,” he’d responded, but Grace hadn’t really believed him until he became a cardiac surgeon.

Sometimes, she still wondered. If Debbie had napped in the evening as she often did, would that hour of rest have made the difference? If Grace hadn’t sat on her mother’s feet with her eighty-five pounds of almost-twelve-year-old exuberance, would the final heart attack not have happened?

But she refused to think about those things now, nor would she consider the game of Monopoly with an inward shudder of dread. She thought instead of the laughter that was dancing along her nerve endings, and wondered if anyone else was using the little iron as their token for moving around the board. The iron had always been her favorite. She liked the way it felt between her fingers.

If she just got off her couch and wandered toward the porch like she was bored with her own company—which she was—would anyone make a big deal out of it? If Promise or the others acted surprised by her presence, Dillon Campbell would think she’d joined them just because he was there. Which was nonsense.

Of course it was.

She remembered how Dillon’s hand had felt when he pulled her to her feet the night before. She’d avoided unnecessary touch all her adult life, and one squeeze of Dillon Campbell’s fingers had her wondering if that hadn’t been a mistake.

More nonsense.

She tried again to devote full attention to the book, but finally gave up and laid it aside. She sat in the harsh light from the reading lamp and sipped her high dollar wine and listened to the laughter of the others. Isolation and loneliness wrapped around her, not new feelings by any means, but somehow deeper and darker tonight.

Maybe this time, as Promise often accused, she was excluding herself and the loneliness was of her own making. Maybe if she stepped onto the back porch, no one would make a fuss and no one would make her feel as though she didn’t belong. It was, after all, her porch.

Carrying her glass, she whispered open the pocket doors and strode barefoot through the deserted dining room and the kitchen with its ever-present light over the sink. After a moment’s hesitation, she pushed open the door to the porch.

“Replacement power. Just in time.” Promise’s smile was wide and brilliant. Welcome to the human race. Grace heard the words she didn’t say. “Now that I’ve been trounced, Grace can take my place while I make popcorn. No one’s using your iron, so have at it.”

Grace sat in the chair Promise vacated, taking the little metal iron from the Monopoly box. It still felt nice between her fingers.

“I’m the banker,” Jonah informed her, passing money around the table. “Since I’m better at losing money than anyone else, I was unanimously elected.”

“I don’t even know why I play.” Maxie sighed, fluffing her blond hair with heavily be-ringed fingers. “I seem to spend all my time in jail. Unless Dillon rescues me with his ‘get out of jail free’ cards,” she added with a flutter of eyelashes.

“I’m just a soft touch for a pretty lady.” Dillon smiled at her, his eyes glinting silver in the dim, yellow light on the porch.

Grace’s heart hammered against her ribs.

Geezy Pete, Grace, grow up.

Someone asked me the other day how we celebrate Christmas here in Australia. Sadly, I had to take a minute to think about it.

So, what do we do that is different from our friends up North? Not much! We still have a lot of winter themes: Christmas trees, (fake) snowmen, Santa Claus and more. Here's a question for my American and European friends...do you have carols by candlelight, or is it too cold? Because a twilight picnic in the park with candles, and everyone singing carols, is one of the highlights of the Christmas lead-in.

The big difference, as I see it, stems from the weather. Where I live, in Melbourne, it's not always hot, but it's a lot warmer than, say, New York or London. No snow in winter, and uncomfortably hot summers.

But some years Christmas day is so hot we don't even want to eat. I always feel sorry for the shopping centre Santas, in their padding and big red suits and fake beards. Even with aircon it has to be unbearable. Probably why we never see them on the actual street.

The heat is probably why the menu has evolved for a lot of Aussies. You'll still find turkey, ham, plum pudding etc, although it's likely to be served cold, but we also like to throw in the occasional barbecue, a lot of seafood, especially prawns, and my personal fave, ice-cream Christmas pudding. My aunt makes one to die for, check out the recipe here.

My family background is Italian, so my grandmother(s) always like to throw in some pasta, or roast pork. This year, I've been promised arancini for Christmas Eve, and I can't wait. And of course, there's panettone, which is traditionally for Easter, but somehow over the years took over Christmas as well.

I've spent Christmas at the beach, which can be a lot of fun. Not so fun: church without air conditioning when it's 35 degrees (that's celsius, quick calc...95°F). So even the cool-ness of swimming in the ocean on Christmas Day has a downside.

I guess when you get down to it, we've adjusted some things to suit the heat, some to suit family background, and try to keep the rest the same. It makes the movies seem more real!

If you live in snowy climes, this Christmas you should take some time to curl up with Inter-Office Relations, my latest release from The Wild Rose Press. 

With her resignation submitted, Jeannie Price has one last task she’s itching to perform before leaving her job. After months of sitting next to hot, sexy colleague Tim Harding, it’s time to turn fantasy into reality with a scorching invitation to collaborate on matters of the flesh in Conference Room B. Then she can walk away without regrets.

Tim’s dreams of wild, sweaty sex with Jeannie come true when he accepts her offer, but he’s stunned to learn she doesn’t want to see him again after their steamy tryst. She may be trying to brush him off as just one more item on her To-Do List, but he’s determined to convince her there’s nothing taboo about inter-office relations.

Click here to buy, or read an excerpt on my site.

I'll be selecting one lucky commenter to receive a title of their choice from Emma's backlist. I won’t be choosing until midnight Sunday, so you have plenty of time to read Inter-Office Relations and tell me what you think!

Huge thanks to Emma for hosting me today!

The Songs of Christmas by Susan Frances

The Songs of Christmas

 

Have you noticed that Christmas just isn’t Christmas without songs to ring in the Holiday cheer? 

 

Christmas songs nurture a love of family and community.  There are the singalongs like “Jingle Bells” and “Rudolph the Red Nose Reindeer” and others that instill the ideals of the Christmas spirit like “The Little Drummer Boy,” which brings a tear to the eyes of the most jaded cynic.

 

Even today, tunesmiths continue to sow new songs based on Christmas themes.  Some have become timeless classics in the Great American Songbook such as Irving Berlin’s tune “White Christmas” made popular by Bing Crosby and his movie by that title in 1954, and the Trans-Siberian Orchestra’s “Christmas Canon” from their 1998 album “The Christmas Attic.”  Each of these artists turned to the classic minstrels for their compass, as too has contemporary vocalist Michael Buble for his 2011 release “Christmas.”

 

The tradition of singing Christmas songs dates back to the 13^thcentury in Italy when the Catholic priest Francis of Assisi encouraged the craftsmanship of hymns and Gregorian-like chants to be sung during church mass on Christmas Day to honor the birth of Jesus Christ.  From Italy, a litany of Christmas carols was passed into Germany, France, and England.

 

John Audelay, a 13^th century Shropshire priest assembled a list of twenty-five “Caroles of Cristemas” which were sung by wassailers, or carolers as they are known today.  The wassailers would sing in the streets and collect money from passersby to donate to the church’s charities.

 

Singing Christmas carols in church and on city streets was banned in England during Oliver Cromwell’s reign in the 1600’s.  The tradition was reinstated in 1660 during the Restoration of the Crown, and the tradition took off in America when the English colonists settled in the new land.

 

One of the first documented Christmas carols is “12 Days of Christmas” based on a Roud folk melody and published in Englandin 1780 with the original author unknown.  The song was put in “The Nursery Rhymes of England” in 1846 with the arrangement built around the verse “five gold rings” added by English composer Frederic Austin.

 

Writing Christmas carols and cataloging pre-existing carols became popular through the 1800’s.  In 1823, American professor Clement Clark Moore penned the poem “T’was The Night Before Christmas” as a bedtime story for his children on Christmas Eve.   The poem was put to music and has become a favorite in households across the country ever since.

 

In 1833, William B. Sandys compiled “Christmas Carols Ancient and Modern” which included the religious ruminations “First Noel” and “God Rest Ye Merry Gentlemen.”  The material used for the latter minstrel has an Aeolian pattern originating from Ancient Greece, which marks it as from the early days of Christianity handed down from generation to generation.  The influence of Ancient Greek melodies on Christian music can be traced to the Emperor Constantine who converted to Catholicism and the nations he ruled,Greece and Italy, around 313 A.D. 

 

Other staples in the Christmas nest include “Ave Maria” based on a biblical prayer which beseeches the Virgin Mary to intercede in the lives of mortals.  Arranged by Charles Gounod in 1859, it is set to the orchestral score of Franz Schubert’s “Ave Maria” from 1825 with a piano melody influenced by Johann Sebastian Bach’s first prelude from the “Well Tempered Clavier.”  

 

Another religious hymn, “Greensleeves (What Child Is This)” has become a staple written by William Chatterton Dix in 1865 .  It is based on an Old English folk melody widely used in the late 16^thcentury with verses that describes the Nativity, “What child is this who laid to rest / on Mary’s lap is sleeping / whom angels greet with anthems sweet / while shepherds watch are keeping.”

 

“Jingle Bells” too was conceived in the 19^th century, written by James Lord Pierpont in 1857.  Inspired by the sleigh races in Pierpont’s hometown of Medford, Massachusetts, it was originally titled “One Horse Open Sleigh,” but renamed “Jingle Bells” after the motor car replaced the horse-driven vehicles or droshkies.

 

The next wave of new Christmas songs surfaced in the mid-20^thcentury including “Santa Claus Is Coming To Town,” written by John Frederick Coots and Haven Gillespie in 1934. That same year, “Winter Wonderland” emerged with music written by Felix Bernard and lyrics by Richard B. Smith based on the wintery scenes ofScranton, Pennsylvania.

 

One of the most prolific composers of Christmas tunes in the 20^thcentury was Johnny Marks, a Jewish American who rose to fame in the 1940’s.  He composed the music for “I Heard The Bells On Christmas Day,” a poem written by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow in 1864, in addition to writing the music for two poems written by Robert L. May, “Have A Holly Jolly Christmas” and “Rudolph The Red Nosed Reindeer.”  The latter one was featured in a booklet published by the store-chain Montgomery Ward.

 

The 1940’s fostered several other standards like “White Christmas” which is still a favorite in homes and commercial hubs.  “Sleigh Ride” by Leroy Anderson and Mitchell Parish had everyone singing along to its catchy verses from its inception in 1846, “We’re riding in a wonderland of snow / giddy up, giddy up, giddy up / it’s grand just holding your hand… snuggled close together like two birds of a feather would be.” 

 

“Have Yourself A Merry Little Christmas” written in 1944 by lyricist Hugh Martin and composer Ralph Blane also caught on filled with Christmas-inspired motifs, “Have yourself a merry little Christmas / let your heart be light / from now on your troubles will be out of sight,” and peaking with “Hang a shining star upon the highest bough.’  The song made its debut in the Judy Garland film “Meet Me In St. Louis” but its current rendition was modified at the request of Frank Sinatra who found the original verses too depressing.

 

The 1940’s harvest also produced “The Little Drummer Boy” written by Katherine Kennicott Davis with music by Henry Onorati and Harry Simeone.  The melody is based on a Czechoslovakian folk tune and a story influenced by a 12^th century legend retold by Anatole France in “Le Jongieur de Notre Dame” published in 1892 Davis’ story substitutes the street juggler in the original version with a little boy who plays the drums for the baby Jesus.

 

One of the most recent Christmas songs to become a standard is “Christmas Canon” by the Trans-Siberian Orchestra.  Based on the score for Johann Pachelbel’s “Canon in D Major,” the words are sung by a children’s choir chiming, “This night we pray / our lives will show / this dream he had / each child still knows… on this night / on this very special Christmas night.” 

 

Christmas songs have been a staple of the Holiday Season since the luminaries of Christianity encouraged the custom several thousands of years ago.  Today, the list continues to grow proving it just isn’t Christmas without Christmas songs, and following the path of the wassailers of yesteryear in spreading good cheer.

Blurb:

Cullen Danes never believed in love at sight, but when the investigator for the British Aviation Ministry meets the girl in his dreams, he surrenders to the emotional currents that consume him. Nina Holt is far too concerned about finding a job in her chosen field of public relations to abandon her quest and put her faith in the stranger with the piercing blue eyes; yet, when Cullen’s life is in danger, she has no other choice but to save him from suffering the same fate as his friend, American pilot Steve McKenna, whose involvement with an international crime ring concludes with his murder.

 

Together, Nina and Cullen uncover a web of illicit activities that includes government officials, financial institutions and global industrialists. Though the perilous circumstances they encounter tests their mettle, Nina and Cullen's true test comes when he asks her to take a major leap of faith. Torn between jumping into the unknown or remaining in a static position, Nina has to decide whether to take the biggest risk of her life, that is, if the King Maker does not have them killed.

Click here to purchase.

Find out more about Susan Frances at:

http://susanfrancesny.wordpress.com/

http://susanfrancesny.blogspot.com/

http://www.goodreads.com/author/show/5310315.Susan_Frances

http://www.nightowlromance.com/nor/Authors/Susan-Frances.aspx

http://freshfiction.com/author.php?id=28517

Just in time for Christmas, Time-lost Love, has been released. Like the Mates of the Guardians series-- which includes His Ship, Her Fantasy and His Hope, Her Salvation with His Capture, Her Rescue due out in 2012--Time-lost Love crosses the genre boundary. There's a little science fiction, a little fantasy, a little mystery and a little romance packed into this holiday short story.

Winter delivers a mystery into Sarah's lap when she finds the diary of a young woman who once lived in the renovated farmhouse Sarah and her husband, Robert, recently moved into. The diary hints at a lost love and further research reveals an untimely death.

But when Nisse, the Norwegian spirit of Christmas, gets his due, all things are possible, and time's lost love might be found anew.


Available at Amazon.com.

Home Is Where the Heart Is, Book 5: Welcome to Redemption by Donna Marie Rogers

Melinda "Lindy" Spalding was first introduced in The Perfect Blend, Welcome To Redemption: Book 3 as the sister of Jacob Spalding (known to the good people of Redemption as Matt Jacobs).  And she isn't your usual heroine.  She's rich and privileged and snooty. But most of it's an act. Though she really does love her designer clothes and shoes. ;-)

 

She skidded into town in her red sports car, nearly running down Drew Porter's beast of a dog in the process.  Well, to be fair, the incident was Bo's fault.  But Lindy is so rattled by the spark that flies between her and Drew that she does what she always does--she puts on the pampered princess act and insults him.  No worries.  Drew Porter has a sizable ego himself, and gives as good as he gets...

 

Home Is Where the Heart Is, Book 5: Welcome To Redemption

Used to the finer things in life, heiress Melinda Spalding is thrown for a loop when her brother relocates to the Midwest. Her parents even expand their business to the small town and put her in charge of the project. Discovering she likes "Mayberry" and its quirky inhabitants is almost as shocking as her growing attraction to the local auto mechanic. But L.A. is where she belongs...or is home truly where the heart is?

Drew Porter learned early in life how treacherous women can be--and when snooty "Lindy" Spalding skids into his life and nearly makes roadkill out of his dog, she seems worse than most. An unlikely bond between their pets gives him an intriguing glimpse behind her pretentious exterior. While his heart wonders if there more to her than meets the eye, his head tells him to run as fast as he can in the opposite direction.

Excerpt:

 

“Come on, man, there has to be someone else in Redemption who owns a pickup—the Packers are playing in the Super Bowl!  What about Caleb?”

 

In just a few hours, Drew would be hosting his annual Super Bowl party, and only the third in his lifetime featuring the Packers.  The last thing he had time for was a trip into Green Bay for a mattress.  Christ, what happened to, “I’ll be perfectly fine on the floor, thank you very much”?  Yeah, right, Princess.

 

“He’s out on an emergency call, and Lauren isn’t sure when he’ll be back.  Look, I know this is bad timing, but Carrie and Lauren are making most of the food anyway, and I can start grilling if you’re not back in time.”

 

The last thing Drew wanted to do was spend more time with Hot Stuff than he had to.  She infuriated him like no woman ever had...she also excited him like no woman ever had, which was half the problem.  Hell, who was he kidding, it was the majority of the problem.  The urge to spank her warred with the need to kiss her breathless, and he knew he’d be a goner if he ever gave in to either urge.

 

“Fine, I’ll do it.  Tell her I’ll be there in ten minutes.”

 

“You’re the best.”

 

Drew could hear the humor in his friend’s voice.  “Yeah, well you’re gonna owe me big time for this one.”

“That I will.  Thanks, man.”

 

As soon as Drew pulled into Lindy’s driveway, he regretted agreeing to play chauffeur.  She stood on the porch with her arms crossed, her annoyance unmistakable.  She dropped her arms and strode toward the truck, then

stopped to glare at him through the windshield for a couple heartbeats before continuing on toward the passenger side door.  Drew suddenly wished he’d brought Bo along to sit between them.

 

She yanked open the door and climbed in, slamming it closed with both hands.  Drew was hard pressed not to laugh at her silent little tantrum.

 

“You’re late.”

 

He avoided her gaze as he backed out of the driveway.  Damn, it was going to be a long ride into Green Bay. 

 

“Fifteen minutes.  Get over it.”

 

She buckled her seat belt and crossed her legs, one foot bouncing angrily as steam erupted from her ears. Thankfully, she ignored him for most of the ride, staring straight ahead while silently fuming.  Finally, she started looking around at the scenery.  A small smile even touched her lips.

“Pretty, ain't it?”

 

Her smile faded.  It dawned on Drew that she was still angry with him from yesterday.  So Hot Stuff was a grudge holder.  Perfect.  He let out a long, drawn out sigh as he took the 41 exit south.  “We’ll be there in about ten minutes.  Think you can handle my company that long?”

 

“If only it ended there,” she muttered.

 

“Look, you don’t like me, fine.  I’ll drop you off at the furniture store and you can take a taxi home.  Maybe if you offer the driver enough money he’ll strap your mattress to the roof of the cab.”

 

At long last, she looked at him, and Drew was taken aback by the hurt glimmering in her eyes.  “You think I’m just some useless fluff ball who doesn’t do anything but file my nails and buy new clothes.”

 

“Since when do you care what I think?”

 

She swung her gaze away and stared back out the windshield.  “I don’t.”

 

Drew came up to a stoplight and took the opportunity to study her face.  He reached out and cupped her chin.  “Liar.  I think you care more about my opinion than you want to admit.”

 

She jerked her chin from his grasp and pinned him with her most haughty glare.  He heaved a silent sigh.  How nice it would be if she just quit this whole Paris Hilton act and joined him back on planet Earth.  Little Miss Silver Spoon was buried so deep in her privileged world he doubted it was possible to draw her out.  And hell, who cared?  She wasn’t even worth the effort.

 

Now who’s the liar, pal?

 

“Get over yourself, Lou, I couldn’t care less what you think.  You’re nobody to me.”

 

“You know damn well what my name is, lady, so say it.  Call me by my name or you can take a goddamn taxi back to Redemption.”

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Thank you so much for having me, Emma.  I hope everyone enjoyed the excerpt.  I would love to give a free download to anyone who posts.  And since Books 1 & 2 are already free (at Amazon, B&N, Smashwords, etc.) that's only 3 books left to buy, at $0.99 each, to complete the series :-)

 

 

Amazon/Kindle Buy Link: http://www.amazon.com/Where-Heart-Welcome-Redemption-ebook/dp/B0058VAOTS/

B&N/Nook Buy Link: http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/home-is-where-the-heart-is-donna-marie-rogers/1104135950?ean=2940012819093

 

Donna Marie Rogers inherited her love of romance from her mother. Romance novels, soap operas, Little House On the Prairie--her mother loved them all. And though it wasn't until years later Donna would come to understand her mother's fascination with Charles Ingalls, Donna's love of the romance genre is every bit as all-consuming.

A Chicago native, Donna now lives in beautiful Northeast Wisconsin with her husband and children. She's an avid gardener and home-canner, as well as an admitted reality TV junkie. Her passion to read is only exceeded by her passion to write, so when she's not doing the wife and mother thing, you can usually find her sitting at the computer, creating exciting, memorable characters, fresh new worlds, and always happily-ever-afters. 

Riding Rodeo Release Party Winner...

Congratulations to Maeve Greyson. She's the winner of a $25 gift certificate to Amazon, Barnes & Noble or The Wild Rose Press, her choice.

Underwear for X-mas? A Boxer or Brief Discussion with Jennifer Jakes

Remember that commercial with Michael Jordon? I'm sure that wasn't the first time the boxer vs brief question was asked, but it did make the question popular.

Me, I'm a rebel. I prefer boxer briefs on my hubby. You get the best of both worlds. They're tight enough to be sexy -- because I hate that baggy boxer look -- and yet, they don't make me think of panties -- as briefs do -- when I look at them.

And because my hubby has really sexy legs and I like the way they look in boxer briefs . . . but I digress.

The first men's underwear was probably the Loincloth, a simple strip of material or leather. A loincloth was also used to describe material pulled between the legs and fastened like a diaper. Not a good look for anyone :(  Greek and Roman men reportedly wore Loincloth.

During the Middle Ages, Loincloth was replaced by loose trouser like pants called Braies. Braies were a step-in design and laced at the waist and mid-calf. Wealthy men also wore Chausses. 

By Renaissance, Braies became shorter to accommodate longer styles of Chausses -- and chausses gave way to hose. But since neither Braies nor chausses were meant to be worn beneath they weren't technically underwear.

Braies were replaced by cotton, silk or linen Drawers which were worn for years and years and years. And years. I couldn't find much information on how much -- if any -- the basic design changed. However, in the mid 1800's mass production of underwear began and people started to buy their drawers instead of making them at home. The Unionsuit also became popular in the mid 1800's -- 1868 actually -- and had the drop seat in the back.

In 1874, the Jock Strap came along to provide support for the bicycle jockeys riding upon cobblestone streets.

The first underwear print ad ran in the Saturday Evening Post in 1911, an oil painting, not a picture. That would have been indecent! In WWI soldiers were issued button front shorts though they were often still worn with a union suit. (Which by the way became 2 pieces in 1910 - what we call long-johns).

By 1935 Coopers Inc. sold the world's first men's briefs, the design dubbed Jockey since it provided the support once only offered by a jock strap. 30,000 pairs of new Jockeys sold within the first 3 months of introduction. In the 1950's manufacturers began to make men's underwear from colored and/or printed material. In the 1970's and 1980's advertisers began appealing to the sexual side of selling, foregoing the long time ad practice of comfort and durability. Speaking of comfort - or lack thereof - the thong became popular in the 1990's.
So, what do you prefer on your man? Boxer, brief, thong . . . or commando?

BLURB – TWICE IN A LIFETIME

Be Careful What You Wish For. . .

No-nonsense stuntwoman Isabella Douglas will do anything to stop an unwanted divorce and reclaim the happy life she had, even allow her old friend to concoct a magical spell to turn back time. But when the spell goes awry, Izzy finds herself trapped aboard a 1768 Caribbean pirate ship with a captain who’s a dead ringer for her sexy as sin husband, Ian. Convinced he’s playing a cruel joke, she’s furious – until she realizes he doesn’t know her or believe they’re married.

Captain Ian Douglas does not have time to deal with an insane woman who claims to be his wife; he has to save his kidnapped sister. But as Izzy haunts his dreams and fills him with erotic memories he can’t explain, he’s forced to admit he feels more than lust.

Trapped in a vicious cycle of past mirroring present, Izzy knows they only have days to find Ian’s sister and prevent disaster from striking a second time. If she doesn’t, their marriage will be destroyed again – along with the man she loves.

EXCERPT: TWICE IN A LIFETIME

Her fingers threaded in his thick hair as she traced his mouth with the tip of her tongue. “Kiss me.” 

He hesitated, then groaned and covered her lips in a breath stealing kiss. Hot, wet, silky. Her nipples hardened, ached for his touch, the tug of his fingers, the pull of his mouth.

“Touch me.” She pressed a kiss to his throat, then licked his collarbone. “I need your hands on me.”

He grunted and slid his hands down her back. Rough palms gripped her cheeks, grinding her against his erection. His gaze burned through her as he moved his thigh between her legs.

“Yes. Please.” She tilted her hips, rubbing, needing release more than air. “Oh, God, yes.” Desire roared through her, the ache building. Building. The orgasm so . . .damned. . .close.

A sharp knock sounded at the door. “Captain? The men are ready to go ashore.”

Ian pulled back and swallowed hard, his expression hungry, his heart thumping against her breast.

“Captain?”

“Yes. Yes, I’ll be right there.” His heavy lidded gaze skimmed her body. Possessive. Aroused. Regretful as he set her aside.

Her mind crawled to process what was happening while her body was doused with disappointment. “You’re still going?”

He raked through his hair, then nodded. “We need provisions before sailing for Jamaica. I’ll only be a few hours.” He stepped to the door, but turned and pinned her with a hard stare. “But when I return . . .”

“Yes?” Her heart thumped in anticipation of some explicit description of what he would do to her. Oh, but his tongue was naughty in all the right ways.

“. . . I expect an explanation.”

Izzy drooped against the door, her thoughts racing even though her legs collapsed. This was going to be the shortest second chance in history.

  

Don't forget to stop by Lacey Wolfe's blog to visit with me and enter to win a copy of Riding Rodeo  (given away tomorrow after noon CST) and a $25 gift certificate from Amazon, B & N, or TWRP (winner's choice to be given away on December 12th after noon.)

The Magic and the Wonder by Debra St. John

The Magic and the Wonder

I love Christmas and everything that goes with it.

Well, not everything…I guess I’m not much of a Christmas shopper. Don’t get me wrong, I love buying presents for people. However I don’t feel the need to be part of the Black Friday or any other holiday crowd. In fact I usually cheat a little and start accumulating Christmas presents in early Fall.

One of my favorite parts of Christmas comes after the shopping is done. I love wrapping presents. I set up a card table in the loft, gather my supplies (paper, tissue, ribbons, boxes, etc.), turn on the holiday music, and lose myself in the joy of creating pretty packages. If all goes well, I like to have this done a couple of weeks before Christmas, so I can admire the presents under my tree before giving them away.

Christmas music is another favorite part of the season. For me, not one Christmas song gets played until the Friday after Thanksgiving. Every year I think long and hard about which CD I’ll play first that morning as we start to decorate the house. We’ve amassed quite a collection of holiday music, so this is never an easy decision. Except for this year. This year to coincide with my new release, A Christmas to Remember, the choice for first song was a no-brainer. I went right for Kenny and Dolly’s Once Upon a Christmas and set it to track 6: You guessed it… “A Christmas to Remember”, which happens to be the inspiration for my story.

I’ve always loved Christmas stories. The ones you read curled up in front of the fireplace with a steaming mug of peppermint hot cocoa. There’s something about Christmas that makes the happily ever after of a romance even more special. For years I always told myself I was going to write one of my own. Finally, earlier this year, I did. A Christmas to Remember was released last month. Not only was it my first Christmas book, but it was my first attempt at a novella. All in all, I have to say I’m pretty satisfied with the results. (And I hope readers will be, too!)

Merry Christmas, everyone! I wish you all the magic and wonder of the season!

A Christmas to Remember  (Available from The Wild Rose Press).

by Debra St. John (www.debrastjohnromance.com)

Blurb:

Newly single, Heather Morgan gathers her courage and decides to take a Christmas ski vacation on her own. However, the festive holiday atmosphere reminds her how dispirited and alone she feels. When she meets a mysterious stranger, her lonely vacation takes an unexpected turn.

Sam is at the resort at the urging of his brother, who thinks he needs to get out and have a little fun. Having no desire to get involved with anyone, Sam needs a way to get his brother off his back. The intriguing Heather seems like the perfect solution to his dilemma, so he makes her an offer she can't refuse.

Sam restores the joy of the season to Heather. Their time together is magical, something she'll never forget. Soon her feelings for him deepen beyond their romantic holiday fling. But Sam has a secret, one that could prevent the fantasy from ever becoming real.

Excerpt:

“So, I guess I’ll be spending Christmas by myself. Well, not all by myself. Actually I’ll be spending Christmas with Jimmy Stewart.”

“No, you…” Sam’s brow furrowed and he stopped. “What?”

Heather gave a short laugh, but didn’t meet his eyes. “I found a channel playing an It’s a Wonderful Life marathon.”

“Ah. Well with no disrespect to Mr. Stewart, he’ll be without your presence because you’ll be spending Christmas with me.”

Her gaze snapped to his. “Oh, no, I couldn’t. I mean, aren’t you spending it with your brother?”

“You can join us. He won’t mind.”

“No, thank you. Christmas shouldn’t be a part of our deal.”

“I’m not asking you to spend Christmas with me as part of our deal.” On impulse Sam placed his hand over hers. “Look, as far as I’m concerned, our deal is off.”

She shifted her gaze from his hand covering hers to look at him, but she didn’t pull away. “Why?” Did she sound disappointed?

“Because I want to spend time with you just for the pleasure of being with you. And I want you to do the same. Not exchanging dinner for skiing lessons. But just because we like being together.”

She smiled. “That sounds nice.”

He ran his thumb over her knuckles. “I’d very much like to spend Christmas with you.”