Simmering Saturdays

I recently read a romance that the author's view of making a romance simmer was the romantic lead's constant whispering in the protagonists ear and his fingers always wrapping a lock of her hair around his fingers. In my opinion that is not simmering, that borders on letting the romance go stale!
And yet not every scene can hold a sizzling kiss so where does that leave us? My answer? Letting the relationship simmer to a boiling point.
Okay, granted -- I am far froma amaster on this one, but here is what I propose in the novel I am currently working on, Book One in The Talisman Series. Mind you, this excerpt is still in the writing stages...

A breeze stirred Trish's hair about her face, tickling her nose and eyes. Echoes of a sharp headache reminded her of her collision with the livery door. She slowly opened her eyes. A man stood at her window. She squinted, forcing bleary eyes to focus. "Quinn?"


He turned slowly and she noticed he held something. Fabric. Her clothes? "My bet is that this ain't your blood. No woman bleeds like this."

Trish tried to sit up, a wave of dizziness making her head spin pulled her back down. Swallowing hard and refocusing, she pushed herself upright. "Blood? What blood?"

"Found these bloody clothes. Ya had 'em tucked under your mattress. Whose blood is this?"

Trish stared at him wishing his back wasn't to the light. She couldn't make out his expression. His tone was as level as it had been at the poker table with Ace. Usually his tone held a vibrant quality, even when training a young horse. Not now.

"You rifled through my things?"

"No. Answer the question, Trish. Whose blood?" his tone, though still quiet had an edge to it.

Trish struggled with how to answer, her words rushing out without the usual care of an attorney. "I'm sorry, Quinn. I couldn't save him. He died in my arms. I didn't kill him. You've got to believe me."

Quinn's chest expanded with his deep intake of air, yet his words remained calm. "Whose blood?"

Trish shook her head, the pain rolling from side to side as the tears she'd held back burst to the surface. "Albert," her voice cracked. "I didn't--"

"Why didn't you stay with him?"

"I did," she swallowed trying to regain her composure.

"No. You weren't there when I found him," he said, his words accusing her.

"I did. I just-- I heard someone coming and realized how it would look if they found me with him. You have to believe me, I didn't kill him."

He stepped closer and she shrank back. "And the blood? Why?"

Trish kept her hands close to her body, but raised them defensively.

"I found him there, bleeding when I arrived. I held him in my arms and tried to comfort him. I lost it. I didn't know what to do. The horse was stamping. The scent of blood-- oh." Her hands flew to her face, covering her tears. "So much blood-- I tried to stop the bleeding and it just kept coming."

Sobs drowned out her words; she shuddered wishing she had done more. Wishing she'd never been there. Wishing she had never come here. Wishing he believed her.

Quinn stepped to the bed, dropping the stained clothing between them. "Ya should have stayed."

"I didn't know it was you. I thought the murderer…"

Quinn sank to the bed. The bedsprings groaned under his added weight, but he didn't touch her. "Ya should have stayed and told me who murdered him."

"But I don't know who did it."

Quinn glowered at her. "Tell me. No more lies. No more tears."

Trish stared at him in silence. She couldn't tell him.

"Damn it, Trish," his words sounded tortured. He pushed her back on the bed, seizing a handful of hair, constraining her. His kiss demanded she yield herself to him. At first she fought him, but when the weight of his chest came down on her, she surrendered.

For most of a week she had dreamed of his kissing her here. Her dreams had warmed her with excited anticipation. This was not as she had hoped. Tears of abject horror replaced tears of sorrow. The pressure of his lips bruised hers and yet his hands remained in her hair and against her cheek. The moment was brief, feeling torturously long.

He moved away, turning his back to her and breathing hard. "No more lies, Trish. The truth. All of it."

She remained prone on her bed where he had left her. "I told you," she whispered.

"Start at the beginning." He pulled the sheet up to cover her. "Why did Curly have you tethered?"

"I guess because he was sick. I certainly didn't deserve it."

"He isn't your papa?"

Trish gasped. "No!"

"Where you giving your--your body to Albert?" He sounded like he might choke on his words.

"No!" Trish rolled away from him, coming to a sitting position. "Never, how could you think that?"

Strong hands reached for her pushing her back to the mattress. "Woman, I am through playing games with you. Tell me the truth, all of it."

She stared up at him, willing him to believe her. She shook her head, fresh tears spilling form her eyes, marking fresh trails to her ears. "I can't."

He let go of her only to flick his bowie knife free, placing it at her neck. "Tell me the truth."

"I would never offer myself to Albert," she whispered. "I couldn't."

"Why?"

She swallowed and answered, "Because I'm --."

"He didn't want your body so you swung the hammer at his head in jealous anger. Is that it?" Twisted distaste wrinkled his handsome features.

"No," she gasped. "I'm not a murderer."

"But you killed Old Curly." Quinn's eyes glared at her, daring her to lie.

"That depends on how you plea and your defense attorney. Technically, I could plea self defense and get off while you would be found guilty. I'm only an accessory."

"How do you know that?"

"You wouldn't believe me." He applied pressure to her skin with the knife.

"Try me."

"Put your knife away and pull up a chair."

He looked around her scantily furnished room. "You don't have a chair."

She forced a weak smile, "Details… the knife, put it away?"

With a flick of his wrist the knife disappeared. "It is where I can get to it if you don't tell me the truth."

"Then you better find yourself a really comfortable place to sit and have an open mind."

+++++
Tension? You decide.

Feisty Fridays

Introducing Feisty Fridays.
Trying something new as usual.
I'm not sure if I should focus on fist fights within a manuscript, feisty heroines, frisky romances, or energetic dialogue.
Maybe all three, but not necessarily all at the same time.
If you have a preferance, please feel free to leave a comment.

For now, I'm thinking a fist fight. Granted, I'm not real good at writing a fight scene so I'm willing to accept a few helpful comments.

(Dark Days of Promise excerpt is unpublished and unedited.)

“Do you want me to stick around?” Trevor asked before turning off the engine.

“Maybe a little while. I thought I’d fix us some spaghetti or something. It might not be very good. I haven’t cooked since I moved here. Ben’s a gentleman, I’m sure he’ll leave if I ask him to. You didn’t leave him much room to move his car,” she observed.

“Mind sliding over?” Trevor smirked. Kimmy moved across the bench seat recognizing his negative vibes for Ben. He helped her to her chair, with showy concern, while a stormy-eyed Ben watched from the top of the cabin’s ramp. Trevor pushed the chair around the truck only to find Ben blocking his path.

“I’ll take her in,” Ben stated flatly.

“I don’t think so. I’ve been invited to stay.”

“I don’t like your tone,” Ben retorted.

“I don’t care what you like, she asked you to leave earlier,” Trevor countered.

Ben sidestepped slightly as though to move out of the way, only to throw a roundhouse punch above Kimmy’s head at Trevor’s jaw. Trevor blocked most of Ben’s punch with his cane. The cane clattered to the gravel. Trevor stepped back to regain his balance. He recovered quickly sending a straight right to Ben’s chin. Ben hit the ground. He found his hand on Trevor’s cane. He picked it up and swept Trevor’s feet. Trevor went down landing on his backside. He took a moment to recover his wind. Ben didn’t wait. He struck Trevor with the cane. The balled end sliced across Trevor’s cheek. Ben swung again bloodying Trevor’s nose.

Kimmy found it hard to believe what she witnessed. Other than this morning, she’d never seen either man raise his hand in anger, yet here they fought at her feet.

“Stop it! Stop it! That’s enough!” She reached for the cane stopping Ben’s third blow with her arm, receiving a nasty bruise.

None of the three noticed the group that gathered. Randall stepped in, ripping the cane from Ben’s hand.

“Ben, I never expected you, of all people to strike a disabled man,” Randall intervened, offering Ben his hand. “I think you should leave.”

Ben looked at Kimmy, anger clearly written in his expression as he accepted Randall’s hand.

“If this broke down wanna be pimp’s what you want, get out. Leave.”

Kimmy dropped her jaw, retorting, “You can’t fire me Ben. I don’t work for you.”

“You may not think so,” Ben hissed.

Kimmy looked at Randall, her eyes begging him to refute Ben’s words.

“Kimmy, get him cleaned up.” Randall said, pointing at Trevor. “We’ll talk about this later.”

He handed Trevor’s cane to a boy who stood nearby, his other hand heavy on Ben’s shoulder.

“Give the man his cane after Ben leaves,” he said to the boy, steering Ben toward his car.

Trevor wiped at the blood on his face before taking Kimmy’s proffered hand.
 
++++
Humm...what do you think? Needs more action, but how?

Thoughtful Thursday

Happiness is not what something makes you feel. Happiness is a state of mind, a choice one makes - before, during and after each moment one experiences. We choose how we will think or feel at any given time. One may choose to be angry, excited, sad, overjoyed and a host of other emotions about any given situation.

Today, I met with a group of my peers discussing this. We come from different walks of life. Some of us are single, some married. Some have young children at home and yet we even had a few women present that are grandmothers and great-grandmothers.
The question was asked "What makes you happy?" One woman immediately asked that we rephrase the question to "What causes you to feel happiness?" Over fifty women present and not two answered the same thing. Some said their children, when their children were asleep, the laughter of a baby, helping a friend, and so many more that I don't recall them all.
For me? The hug of one of my children, sunshine through the trees, watching a humming bird, riding a horse at a gallop across the meadow.
What causes you to feel happiness? (One of the lady's said sex -- but let's keep this rated PG.)

Sizzling Kiss from Dark Days of Promise

The first Sizzling Kiss is coming June 26th.

(Excerpt is unpublished.)
Kelly opened the door to a bedroom, turning back toward me.


“Your turn. Do you trust me enough to join me in my room?” His eyes danced between teasing and seriousness.

I set the fork on the counter where I’d found it, taking a deep breath before joining him.

Kelly crossed the floor to the closet and produced a medium sized lock box. Setting it on the bed, he unlocked it, withdrawing the handgun. The fragrance of cleaned guns tickled my nose and yet I relished it.

“Recognize this?”

Unsure of the promise I had asked him to make concerning the boys and gun safety, I nodded.

“Come here.”

I did as he asked; stepping in front of him, facing him, quivering like the leaves of a bush in a gentle breeze. A hint of sunlight stole through the curtains, leaving a trail across the bed. My fear of guns rushed to the surface. I fought to retain my calm exterior.

“You know, despite the faint odors of Jacob’s shop, you smell . . .” He mused, closing the distance between us. “Do you always wear perfume to work?”

“No, I put that on just before I came up here.” I couldn’t smell my perfume, only the oil or whatever it was he’d cleaned the gun with. An involuntary shudder of excitement raced up my spine. His nose brushed across my jawbone, my knees went weak. Cautious, I placed my open palm on his chest, looking down at my hand, feeling the solid mass of him.

He touched my ear with his nose. His warm breath sent delightful shivers of pleasure across my senses making my breaths come faster. He dropped the unloaded weapon on the bed to free his hands. With gentle strength, he took hold of my shoulders bringing me closer to him. He locked my gaze with his own, searching for signs of fear. His hands moved from my shoulders to my cheeks.

I didn’t flinch. I watched him approaching my lips, forgetting everything around us. The fragrance of freshly cleaned guns faded into the background, replace by his musky scent. I watched his eyes as his gaze dropped to my lips, and I closed my eyes. Taking a moment to pull back, he approached again allowing the soft pressure of his lips to touch mine. The deliciousness of his clean sweet taste overwhelmed me, inviting me, drawing me into his space. I yielded to him, stepping closer, willing to give him more. He allowed me to lean into him, pressing against his body. His kiss remained gentle while my responding kiss became passionate. My eyes flew open in sweet ecstasy. I closed them again, drinking in the moment.

He broke the kiss, stepping back. “Weapon safety first.”

“Yes sir.” I murmured. Really? It required determination to turn my back to him without increasing the distance between us. Not because I didn’t trust him but because I wanted a few more kisses. “What’s first?”

“For you to learn what your weapon feels like in your hands.”

I closed my eyes to steel my nerves. My first lesson in gun safety began.

(Excerpts from Dark Days of Promise. With a special thanks to my daughter.)

Tickle Tease Tuesday

Dave bond is Tickling us with this excerpt from The Attache.

Zach pushed away from the table. She figured he was getting the phone, but he trailed his hand along the edge of the table until he arrived where she sat. He reached out tentatively then pulled his hand back. "Can you... um, stand up?"


He wore an odd look. She placed the last of the granola bar on the table and pushed her chair out. "Okay. What's this about?"

He reached again, and she realized he wanted to hold her hand. Slivers of sunlight filtered in through the kitchen window, and a shiver traveled up her spine.

"I might have waited for a better time, whatever that is, but I'm not going to. Jessie? I want to tell you something... I need to tell you something, and I'm not sure how you'll take this. I'm not sure how to say it either."

His grip was firm, his hands slightly damp. Zach hid his nervousness well. His eyes were wide though, so wide she wondered how it was possible they were sightless. Whatever he wanted to tell her, Zach was paying a price. She instinctively gave his hands a reassuring squeeze.

"I'll be all right. You don't need to worry. I'll be with Suzy for a couple days, and then I think I'll go back to Lancaster for a little while. So, Zach..."

"Lancaster? Home?"

"Well, yeah. What else?"

He shook his head, trying to smile. "You can't think of any other options?"

"Not at the moment. No."

"Is this because you think there's no job?"

"I don't have a job. How could I?"

"I don't know. No one's fired you, as far as I know."

"There's nothing for me to do. No business. You don't have to fire me, I'll just quit."

Jessie tugged her hands away. She heard the words, flying out of her mouth laced with poison. She was under attack, emotions and logic warring for dominance, something inside her clinging to a desperate memory. For the past three years, one thing, one man, had given her a reason to dream. Joel understood life, knew the meaning of love between a man and a woman. He was slipping away, his memory a gray mist in the awakening dawn.

If she stayed here, instead of seeing Joel, she would precipitate his demise. Joel would be gone forever. It was ludicrous to hope he would show up. How often did he come here? Almost never. She had to leave, had to flee for her sake, and Joel's sake. If not, Zach would block the way forever.

Zach's hands reached for her, but she was out of reach. "Jessie. Listen. What I need to tell you is this. I love you. I. Love. You. But the thing is, I know how you might take that, and I understand. But I couldn't have gone much longer without saying how I feel."

"Don't say that. Just don't say that. Zach, you remember the time I talked about Joel? Remember? There was this connection thing? I didn't tell you the whole story." She clasped and unclasped her fingers. "You see, he left his attaché, I told you that, but inside it, there was this... this manuscript. A romance story he was writing. Over the years, I've read it and re-read it. It isn't finished, but there was something in his writing, something that reached out to me and held on. You're laughing. Stop. Stop laughing..."

Jessie was finished with this. Joel had gotten more defense than he deserved at the moment. She needed him in the flesh, not in her dreams. Even a few more minutes in this house would threaten his emergence into her reality, bringing about her own betrayal.

Great Sizzling Kiss from Changes

By: Debra Erfert

Debra delivers with this one!

This is unedited and will soon be published by Walnut Springs Press.

“Did you kiss her goodnight?” His brows scrunched together at my question. “Never mind. I don’t want to know.”


“No, I didn’t.” Micah ran his hand along the back of my calf, nearly driving me crazy. “I couldn’t think of kissing another woman—after you.”

“Micah?” I leaned closer again, close enough I breathed in his woodsy aftershave scent. “Why . . . why haven’t you . . .” How could I ask him why he never asked me out before? I felt like such a jealous woman—not after what he told me. He placed the bandage on my snakebite, and I got up. Maybe, if I didn’t look at him, I might be able to find out why we haven’t dated. My new fridge became very interesting. The top part was double-sided, and the bottom part was a freezer drawer.

“My brother is a plumber, and he’ll hook up the line you need so you can have water and ice coming out the front—if you’d like.” Micah stood behind me. I felt the warmth of his body, or it could be my nerves reacting to his close presence. “Did I tell you that my mom ordered a new range?” I shook my head. “It won’t be in for another week, but she’s happy you wanted the fridge, and she wants you to have the range too. Mom’s even going to switch out her dishwasher with a stainless steel version.” I turned my head a little, enough for me to see how far away Micah stood. “Do you want a dishwasher?” he asked.

I nodded, and realized not looking at him wasn’t any easier than staring at him.

“Why haven’t . . . haven’t you asked me—” I took in a quick breath, “out on a date?”

Micah turned me around by my shoulders. I kept my eyes on a single, totally fascinating button of his shirt, afraid of what I’d see if I looked into his eyes. But then all I had to do is remember how they matched the bright desert sky on a warm afternoon and my heart flipped against my lungs.

“We’ve never officially been out on a date, but . . .” he slowly slid his fingers down the back of my arms, creating a wave of gooseflesh in their wake, “I know so much about you. I know you’re deathly afraid of spiders.” He moved closer, and it was harder to take in a breath. “You have the cutest dance when you’re happy, and your best friend sets her own style trends every time she steps out the door.”

He lifted my hands and studied the scratches on my knuckles. “You have a solid right hook. You’re not afraid of snakes, and you’re smart—you know when to wear your boots. You can feel a touch as light as a web against your neck,” he said, brushing his fingers against my skin below my ear, making me dizzy. “You love your dog so much you let him sleep with you. And I know I don’t want to spend time with any other women since I met you.”

“Then . . . why haven’t . . . you ever . . . asked . . . me out?” I gasped a breath when Micah ran his fingers under my jaw and lifted my chin upward.

Micah lowered his head and whispered, “I’m asking you now,” and pressed his mouth on my trembling lips.

I’d waited for his kiss, wanted it as much as it seemed he did. I slid my hands up his chest, feeling the strong muscles in his shoulders before looping my arms around his neck. I didn’t want him to end the kiss as he did the last time—too quickly and abruptly. Every second that passed sent me tumbling deeper in love, as passion roiled in my stomach. Micah’s arms tightened around my waist like an amorous boa constrictor about ready to devour its prey, and I was in his unbreakable grip.

Sunday Sizzle

First Response

Sunday is becoming a habit for Michelle Sutton and I. She shares yet another of her Sizzling Kisses.
(Excerpt used by permision.)

"It's okay. Shh..." he whispered into her hair.

How could it be okay? Glancing up, she captured his gaze. "Why do I always cry like a baby when I'm with you? It's embarrassing."

He smiled tenderly. "Maybe you feel safe with me."

She couldn't help responding with a grin as she wiped her wet face with her palm. "I do."

"That's good." He sighed and kissed the top of her head. "So what do we do now?"

Muttering into his shirt she snorted, "You're asking me?"

He nudged her shoulder and chuckled softly as he reached for her chin. "Yeah, I am."

With heavy lids she peered at him and said, "Kiss me."

He scanned her face and rested his gaze on her lips. The inner struggle she witnessed in Chet's eyes made her stomach tumble. She could sense the tension building between them as his breathing grew shallow.

"I don't think I can court you, either." His thumb stroked her cheek.

A sensation, like a heavy weight had fallen on her chest, made it difficult to breathe. It was already over between them and their relationship had barely started to develop.

"You don't want to kiss me?" Nibbling on her lower lip, she fought more tears.

"Oh, I want to." He dipped his head and captured her mouth before she could respond.

His lips were gentle, yet insistent as they caressed hers. He plunged his fingers into her hair and drew her closer. She wrapped her arms around him.

Wow, this man sure knew how to melt her heart.

She tasted the salt from her tears as he kissed her again. Was she crying? She thought she'd stopped. Resting her hand on Chet's face, she sensed dampness and knew that he was getting emotional. But why would kissing her make him cry, unless he was saying goodbye? A chord of fear struck in her heart, so she broke the kiss to study him.

The passion filling his eyes left no doubt of his intentions. He wasn't planning to break up with her. Something deeper was happening between them. Something she couldn't describe, but wanted to feel more of. Leaning in closer, she kissed him again.

They still hadn't gone beyond gentle kisses. They were so tender and innocent, and breathtakingly sweet. After several more kisses she sensed his mouth opening and his tongue gently exploring, tasting hers. Hot and exciting, she couldn't contain her moan.


You can buy First Response HERE

Sizzling Kisses and oh! This weeks winner!

We love KISSES especially first ones: A PASSIONATE LOVE: Lord Sutcliffe meets a pretty miss on a dusty country road and rescues her from her embarrassing dilemma. It must have been magic as his intention was only to steal a quick buss. Instead he is astonished to find himself involved in a passionate kiss which leaves him shaken to the core. Frances, the vicar’s daughter, should have put that impudent, frivolous lord in his place. Why she responded to his kiss the way she did, she’d never know. She knew she should not have, but the feelings were just too delicious to resist.

http://janislane.blogspot.com/


EXCERPT: “Probably all a dream anyway.” He shrugged and then quick as a wink reached an arm around her waist, pulled her close, and planted a firm kiss on those rosy, pouting lips.

“Do not disappear in a puff of smoke, little sprite, or turn me into a frog, will you?” he murmured as his lips descended again. No doubt he was under a spell where normal rules and customs were suspended and fairies, elves, and wood nymphs cast their magic on unsuspecting but willing passersby.

He drew a deep breath as his lips gently, then more firmly, covered hers, warm from the sun and temptingly pliable. The fiery-haired sprite’s mouth dropped open. She uttered a small squeak at the exact moment Richard’s lips settled firmly on hers. He was deep in his own imagined world with an enchantment leading him into mischief. Those seductive lips parted to give him an easy entry. Richard, certainly no slow top, slipped past her guard and gave the kiss more heat and energy than he had originally intended — with amazing results.

Magic fairy dust, indeed! The sun overhead blessed the kiss with an explosion of light as warmth spread across their shoulders.

After an infinitesimal pause, the young lady leaned toward him and responded to the touch of his lips on hers. Her eyes fluttered and closed. One arm held her basket, but the other rose in a tentative motion to clasp him by the shoulder. Had she pulled him closer?

Have we teased you competitors enough?
Congratulations to thiw weeks winner.
Be sure to Comment to tell us which one of these novels you would like to add to your collection!

Here is another sizzling kiss from my contemporary SANDPIPER AFFAIR:

She felt he was asking her permission and she answered as she kissed his palm and heard a sharp intake of his breath. She leaned her head back and offered him her lips and the smooth column of her throat. He tightened his hold on her waist and with his other hand cradled her head. Pulling her firmly against him, he bent down to kiss her lightly, pulling back before she could return the kiss.

She entwined her hand in his hair and pulled his face firmly down to her lips. So soft, so different from the muscles of the hard shoulder she gripped. She could feel his hand bury in the hair at the back of her head. As her hair clip lost its grip, her hair cascaded, as slow as warm honey. His fingers threaded through her tousled curls and he rubbed them against her back and bare shoulders. Sensuous feelings raced across her skin causing her to shiver slightly. She felt him breathe deeply, almost as if he would inhale her.

"You chilly?" he asked wrapping long arms securely around her.

"No," she answered with a murmur burying her head against his shoulder. They broke apart a little. Adam leaned his forehead against hers with both hands on her bare shoulders. Their bodies met and firmed as they strained to get closer.

"Oh my," said Abby. "Are you always such a hospitable host?" Despite the tingling in her body, she couldn't help but remember the sight of him kissing Miss Chestnut and Silk at the party.

"I reserve such personal attention for very special guests only," he whispered as his fingers traced her lower lip, passed along her jaw line and paused to slide in a pattern around her ear lobe. Abby could hear the huskiness in his voice.

He leaned down to kiss her again, pulling her closer, tightening his grip against her soft form as he pulled her against his hard muscular one. She opened her mouth willingly to welcome his. His lips folded gently then firmly over hers and she felt his tongue slip hungrily inside. Oh yum, she thought, as she did a virtual float through the most heavenly soft air while gorgeous pink clouds shimmered just behind her eyelids.

Romantic Suspense

Now that you know what I love to read and write, I shall tell you that I am a gemini and have another side to my writing personality. I also write contemporary Romantic Suspense which lets me play with birds, animals, and nature in general.  I have two novels over @ Desert Breeze Publishing: SANDPIPER AFFAIR which is about a wild life photographer and a hunky Florida Ranger off to solve a murder, and a soon- to- be- published in June sequel called GONE TO THE DOGS where we see Adam and Abby strengthen  their relationship as they face new and dangerous challenges.  I have to confess I love writing in this genre as well. and hope you are as deeply entertained when you read these stories as I am writing them. http://janislane.blogspot.com/

Dark Domino by Emma Lane

How would you react if the man you loved went away to war for 6 long years and never wrote you a single letter? Sarah Louise from DARK DOMINO faced that exact dilemma and could not understand why Ethan, the man she loved, could treat her so cruelly when she never doubted he loved her. Find out why when you read my short story , a sweet romance about young love and steadfast loyalty.


Excerpt: “I know your mother is looking for you. She sent me to find you. She is upset that you are reluctant to leave for school.”

“She called me a hoyden. She said it was time I put up my hair and became a lady. As if that would somehow make me a different person.” She ran her hands underneath her thick curls, held them up and then let them fall in a luxurious cascade. Ethan held his breath, then let it slowly out. He could see clearly the beauty she would become soon, although he knew how she would resent the change. He smiled at her, saying farewell with his heart. (A sad goodbye between Ethan and Sarah Louise from DARK DOMINO.)

http://janislane.blogspot.com/

Wednesday Reviews

 A SCANDALOLUS DESIGN Review Site: Her Stories. com


Review URL: http://www.her-stories.com/bookreviews/victorianromance.html
Rating: 4.0
Reviewer Name: C.J.
Review Regency England is the setting when Melanie Robinson begins to move on making her dress-making shop dream into a reality. Lord James is smitten, but he assumes Melanie won't get a better offer and takes his own sweet time finalizing the engagement. Jealousy is written beautifully by author Emma. And we love that the heroine appears to know how to play cards and bet on horse races. Villain Felicity and tomboy Mary help make this cast of players a nice selection for Regency readers...especially on a chilly evening with a cup of hot chocolate nearby.



A PASSIONATE LOVE --SMASHWORDS

Review by: Lanie Malone on March 06, 2012
While I love PNR, historical romance was what got me hooked on reading and this book has everything I would expect from the genre except sex, which was kind of refreshing.

Boys meets girl, girl plays hard to get, boy eventually wins her over and they live happily ever after is the standard format for pretty much all romance. The elements that determine the quality of a novel are things like character depth, back story, plot (outside of the falling in love business), and above all (at least for me) dialogue.

This book has all the other elements in spades, but I felt it fell a little short on the dialoge for my tastes. What was present was without a doubt quality, but I wish there had been more of it.

Otherwise, it was an excellent read that I would highly recommend to anyone as addicted to historical romance as I am.

Emma Lane's Tickle tease with a Twist

Personal Q & A

 Where were you born? I’m a transplanted southerner who gets homesick for grits for breakfast. I’ve lived in Western NY now for many years and do not think I could survive the hot summers down south any more. Okay I spend a few weeks south in the winter. Who’s counting?

 What is the funniest thing that ever happened to you or you witnessed that made you laugh so hard you couldn’t catch your breath? I had a grandmother who liked to stir up trouble between my parents. One night when we all came home together, she walked out into the yard and fell into…I’m sorry. I’ll use this one in a series of short stories I’m contemplating. But I can assure you that it was very funny and she didn’t get hurt. But she was very, very annoyed. I and my siblings called it God’s justice.

Ohhh you tease...What hidden talent do you possess outside of writing? I already mentioned that I do plants. I also paint flowers in acrylics and I do floral arrangements for special occasions. Not very exciting, but I enjoy it.

Favorite color: Green. You aren’t surprised, are you?

 What am I passionate about, other than writing? My family, especially my wonderful grandchildren. My husband, my church and my community.

 Name some of your most favorite things. You mean other than chocolate? Well, Musa editors/publishers are a great bunch of folks. The authors I’ve met and gotten to know. Great supporters. Regency Romances, a whole bunch of other authors who keep my mind happy, summer, plants, birds, nature in general, My friends.

 What’s your favorite Bible verse? I think like most authors my mind races and is always clogged with characters that are jabbering in my head trying to tell me how to write the next story. Sometimes it gets very crowded in there and I fear burn-out. Then I remind myself of a favorite message.

“Be still and know that I am God.” It calms me right down and quiets all the clamor. Listening to God is as important as praying to Him.

                                                     * * * *

QUESTIONS ABOUT WRITING

 What or who inspires you to write? Dunno. If pressed I will venture to say that creating is a God-given talent no matter in which medium you operate. The urge to write is always with me and always has been. But I love to create a garden and I love to paint pretty scenes.

 Why did you begin writing? I finally had the time to express myself without interruption. In retrospect, I think I should have found the time sooner.

 What was your favorite book growing up? Pride and Prejudice-Jane Austen maybe, but there are so very many. I grew up in a houseful of books with parents and siblings who read. It is only a rumor that I propped books in front of my children when they were still in their highchairs.

 What do you find most rewarding about writing? You get rid of some of those noisy characters that clamor to be heard. I feel small that it pleases me that I surprised my husband. Okay, I don’t feel very small, but I think I should.

 Have you experienced writer’s block? Sure, but I think it has to do with fatigue. I pick up the dictionary and start reading words. Shortly sentences come to me and I’m back at work.

 When is your next book due out and what’s it about? It’s a Regency novella called BELOVED SOLDIER RETURNS. My mind was on all the families who are expecting their loved ones home very soon. There are gypsies who play a role in the story as well as a revisit of the Vicar’s Daughters 3, an ‘afterwards’ peek into their lives as young married women with families. It’s due out in late summer of this year (’12)

ABOUT YOUR LATEST BOOK:

 How did you come up with your premise for ‘The Vicar’s Daughters 3? Well, I have two sisters so I guess I thought in that vein. They would leave home one at a time to find their way in the world as adults. From there I thought of how much they were alike and how they were different. Dreaming up their hunky husbands was just sheer fun and imagination.

DARK DOMINO, a short story, jumped into my imagination complete with beginning, middle and ending. All I had to do was fill in the spaces. I loved the two characters, Sarah Louise and Ethan.

 Are there any fun tid-bits about this story you can share with us? Sure. These 3 Regency stories were my very first and Celina and Kathy Teel from MUSA pulled them together and worked valiantly to instill the concept of POV in me. Then there was the matter of a whole chapter written on the night before publication. I hope I have learned a little something more by now. I saw that Kathy T was listed as a co-author of A PASSIONATE LOVE on Smash words.

Learn more about Emma Lane at http://janislane.blogspot.com/

Thank you

Thank you to all of the men and women of our Armed Forces that have given so much to protect the freedoms that I enjoy each day.

Contesting Monday

Leave a comment on this weeks posts and win a chance for a free copy of any of Emma Lane's 4 Regency Romances from MUSA Here are the beautiful covers.

(The more comments you make the more times you are entered...just be sure to leave your name and check back on Saturday to see who won!) Visit Ms. Lane at http://janislane.blogspot.com/

Sunday Sizzle

First Love
Excerpt used by permision of the author, Michelle Sutton and this one sizzles!

Suddenly shy, she peered up at Josiah, who grazed her cheek with the back of his knuckles. "So you're a Christian now. Is that what you're saying?"

Overcome with emotion and unable to speak, she merely nodded at the hope she heard in his voice.

Josiah moaned and uttered something unintelligible as he grabbed her tight. He spun her around until she felt dizzy and squealed for him to stop.

The world still spun when he set her on her feet again. She laughed and rested her head on his chest and hugged him until everything settled down and she no longer had sea legs.

As she rested against him and breathed in the scent of his skin through his clothes, she realized she could rest in his arms forever. She peered up at him through heavy lids and smiled.

As he glanced down at her his gaze softened, then darkened. Her stomach trembled at that familiar look in his eyes.

He lowered his head and this time she tipped her chin up until their lips met. The fluttering sensations in her heart as he caressed her mouth with a soft, tentative kiss made her lightheaded. She relaxed her mouth as he kissed her more deeply. She met him kiss for kiss until her pulse raced and she lost herself in his arms.

She wanted to weep from the joy of being joined with him again in an intimate embrace, yet terror struck a chord in her heart when she thought about how easy it would be to give her entire being to him. She found herself wanting to get closer, but she'd be careful not to go too far.

The familiar warm, tingly sensation from her body's response to his kisses increased her hunger. The longer their lips explored and caressed the more she didn't care about how intense things were quickly becoming. She pressed against him and he did the same. Gasping for a breath between heated kisses, she released a low moan and said, "I've missed you."



You can buy First Love HERE http://stores.desertbreezepublishing.com/-strse-112/Tombstone-Treasures-First-Love/Detail.bok

Latest E-Books Reviewed

For more info, visit InD'Tale Magazine. You can get your first month free for a limited time! They review romance novels (my favorite and how I found them). They review Contemporary, Historical, Mysteries, Fantasy, Paranormal, Suspense/Thriller, and Inspirational Romances.
Authors---they have put out a call for more e-published mysteries, historical, paranormal and fantasies to review...so awesome opportunity!
Hey, and I found out what my favorite cover model likes to do to relax here (under staff)... You gotta go check it out! (Jimmy, I'm a fan...)

Never Without Hope - Sizzling Kiss

Excerpt used by permisssion of Author, Michelle Sutton
http://edgyinspirationalauthor.blogspot.com/

“I love you.” he whispered, then touched my cheek.

Opening my eyes, I took in the warm, inviting expression on his face. For once I didn’t cry at the sound of those precious words. “I love you, too.”

James lowered his lips to mine, and though he didn’t linger, I thought I’d die from the joy flooding my soul. His kiss contained strength and desire. And I’d needed hope—to know he still longed for me, too. I nodded at the bags on my lap. “Thank you—for everything.”

James nodded, a sly grin forming on his lips, like he was pleased with himself.



You can buy Never Without Hope HERE http://www.amazon.com/gp/product/098258704X?ie=UTF8&tag=httpwwwgoodco-20&linkCode=as2&camp=1789&creative=9325&creativeASIN=098258704X&SubscriptionId=1MGPYB6YW3HWK55XCGG2

How to write a Sizzling Kiss

Okay, the first kiss is the one we want to nail as authors. So how do you write a Sizzling one? Remember the five don'ts and the six do's. We'll start with the don'ts.

Don't spring the kiss on the reader without just cause.

Don't expect your reader to fall in love if you haven't.

Don't neglect your senses.

Don't let it be just a "They kissed."

Don't tell us, the readers that it was sensuous, show us.

The Do's don't list isn't like the Don'ts (Don't you hate me now!) lol

They run more like: Stay in one character's head (or body in this case).

Show us what your character sees.

Describe the smells that surround this moment.

What sounds reverberate around the couple?

How does the kiss taste?

What does the character feel or how does he/she feel?

Notice the underlined words. These are our senses. These are your tools to create that Sizzle. A truly Sizzling kiss uses at least three of the five at least five times. (Yes, when I'm drawing my scenes I count them… the key here is that the reader wants to experience that kiss so you want it to last. Think at least a good paragraph and when you get really good two pages… (I'm not at that point yet.)

Let's use a generic kiss.

Kate kissed Jeremy.

…….Boring….

Note that we said Kate first, so it is her point of view, not Jeremy's.

What does Kate see? The golden flecks in Jeremy's brown eyes.

What does Kate smell? Jeremy's musky cologne.

What does Kate hear (this goes with sounds)? The birds gentle lilt in the trees overhead.

What does Kate taste? Maybe the beer on his breath---ick. Jeremy tastes smooth, like special dark chocolate.

What does Kate feel? Most commonly ? Jeremy's hard muscles.

What about the emotion Kate feels? Kate feels her desire.

Before you scroll down, I encourage you to write these five things into your scene. I promise that there will be as many unique scenes written as there are individuals that write them. Our job as writers/authors is to draw one scene, colored though it may be by the reader's personal experience.

Now, before we see what yours truly draws for Kate's scene, let's find out what Jeremy's scene might look like.

Remember: Jeremy kissed Kate.

For a guy that might be enough, but not the romance reader… they want more and the more you give them, the more they will want to come back for more.

What did Jeremy see? Careful, guys attention is not always the same as a woman's. Be sure you stay true to the character - male in this case. Jeremy saw her curves and the firm plumpness of her lips.

What did Jeremy smell? Jeremy smelled her perfume, the clean freshness washed by the rain, the tantalizing scent of his Harley's leather.

What did Jeremy hear? The roaring of Harleys in the distance, her breathing and soft sighs.

What did Jeremy taste? Okay here is where we need what the character says in Golden Eye (James Bond)? She tastes like sweet strawberries.-- Jeremy tastes the sweet strawberries on her lips.

What does Jeremy feel? Remember external and internal. External - The warmth of the sun's rays. Internal - his heart beat speed up and if you feel real daring the pressure below his belt. Be careful on that last one! It can throw your kiss to the erotica real fast.

Now, we have left Kate long enough but remember you can only submit this, or write it from one point of view. For your writing, there is only this rule.

Use at least three senses, five times. Easy. I personally like to start with what surrounds the character and focus the reader's lens tighter as the scene evolves. So to do that, let's shuffle the senses to: sounds, smell, external feeling, sight, taste, Internal feeling. Notice that I separated what the character feels.

Kate Kissed Jeremy.

The birds continued their gentle lilt in the trees overhead. ---sound---

Kate breathed deep, trying to catch her breath, catching the gentle musky aroma of Jeremy's cologne, unique and all male. ---smell---with a touch of feeling in her breath.

She leaned into him, feeling the solid muscle of his chest. ---external feeling---

He lifted her chin and her gaze focused on the golden flecks in his brown eyes, so warm and inviting. The message in them tilted from the humor of the previous moment to the heat of this one. ---sight--- with a touch of more feeling and a bit of background.

He smiled as if daring her to make good on her threat. ---more sight---

Unwilling to back down to this dangerous man, she skittered her hands to his broad shoulders and reached for his lips with her own. She only intended to give him a quick peck, but one taste of the smooth dark chocolate of his mouth and her knees buckled. ---taste--- feeling, both external and internal as we draw the reader's lens tighter.

Her desire bolted to new heights, his challenge winning over her own. ---inner feeling---

We learned a whole lot about this scene with the showing. Let's see what we can learn if the scene is written from Jeremy's point of view. Again, let's start with the setting somewhat and focus the lens tighter with each sentence.

The other Harley's roared in the distance, leaving them alone as the sun broke through the clouds, warming the small forest clearing. ---sound---and sight--

Jeremy smiled, letting his eyes linger over her curves. Appreciating each one, he focused on the plump, scarlet firmness of her lips. --sight---we added a bit, didn't we?

The rain had stopped, and for the first time he noticed the delicate bouquet of her perfume, floral yet hinting of berries. Rather than distracting from the warm animalistic smell of leather, her scent danced and entwined with it. --smell--

Her chest rose and fell as if she might dart away. Instead of bolting, she leaned into him, lacing her hands to his shoulders. She paused, driving him wild with anticipation. His heart pounded in his chest. He stepped closer, pinning her against his Harley. --sight, internal feeling, touch--

She'd cave. It was only a joke to her, but not to him. If she didn't make good on her challenge, he would be sure to make good on his own. Her kiss started soft, but he couldn't let it stop there. Her lips tasted like strawberries from the lip-gloss she wore. He devoured it and her mouth. She answered with kisses of her own and infuriatingly sensual sighs. ---touch, taste, sound--

His own body's reaction caught him off-guard, she leaned into him so innocent, so trusting. He let her, sensing his heart pound, skip, an engine in need of tuning all the while feeling his pressure build below his belt. --internal feeling--

The wise writer will walk away here unless they intend to step over the erotic lines.

Which one is better? That depends on the detail needed for the story. Maybe you, the writer need to remind the reader of Kate's challenge to Jeremy or maybe you, the writer, need to tell us that the other characters have left the scene. The key goes back to the Don’t's. Don't spring the kiss on the reader without just cause. Don't expect your reader to fall in love if you haven't. Don't neglect your senses. Don't let it be just a "They kissed." Don't tell us, the readers, that it was sensuous, show us.

Stay in one character's head (or body in this case). Show us what your character sees. Describe the smells that surround this moment. What sounds reverberate around the couple? How does the kiss taste? What does the character feel or how does he/she feel?

You can master the Sizzling Kiss! Now I expect awesome kisses for July…

Announcing - The Sizzling Summer Contest

Sending out a personal invite to readers everywhere.

Announcing "The Sizzling Summer Contest".
The contest will run July 1st through July 31st.
Voting (by readers) will open July 29th and run through August 4th.

Have you got a kiss you'd like to share? Have you got what it takes to write a Sizzling Kiss?
You are invited to participate in sharing your best Sizzling Kiss.

1) Submit your "Sizzling Kiss" as an attachment to shassidy@comcast.net between July 1 and July 31. (Yes, I'm giving you time to polish that kiss.)
2) Include "Sizzling Kiss" in the subject line of your email.
3) Your kiss must be between 100 and 500 words.
4) Sign your kiss with your first name and your blog address/link.
    Limit: one entry per blog addy.

I am looking for at least ten (10) submissions/entries. If I get at least that many, there will be a prize awarded in addition to having your "Sizzling Kiss" posted here (with your name). The winner will receive a romantic suspense E-book, Dark Days of Promise by yours truly, due to be released in September.

Don't be shy. Now remember, this is just a kiss, not a bedroom scene. No erotica, I'm not allowed to post such so keep it sweetly warm and borderline sensual. Erotica will be disqualified. Published work cannot be submitted for contest.

Now remember, we have several examples of kisses already posted here. You are welcome to go back and read them. I will also be posting several more as well as helps to writing a kiss that SIZZLES.

Remember, the dead line is July 31st. Send your submission, limited to a single scene to shassidy@comcast.net as an attachment. I must have at least 10 entries. All entries (except those that are erotic) will be posted here for voting the end of July and first of August. You must be a follower of this blog to vote and your vote/comment must be signed to match your follower tag.

Note to published authors-- Maybe one of our esteemed published authors, whose Sizzling Kisses will be shared over the next two months will volunteer a copy of their book from which the kiss is from --- (hint, hint).

Historical Romance Kiss

Excerpt from Daughters of Jared by H.B. Moore, published by Covenant Communications, 2012



Levi moved closer until I could look nowhere else but into his eyes. “I told you how I feel about you.”

“You asked me to marry you.” I tried to keep my voice steady, despite his nearness and despite my erratic pulse. “Then you asked me to give up my gods.” My voice dropped to a whisper. “You never told me how you felt.”

Both his hands cradled my face.

He closed the distance before I could take a breath. His lips pressed against mine lightly, hesitantly. My hands went to his chest; warmth radiated from his skin through his shirt. My touch encouraged him, and his kiss became more possessive as he pulled me into his arms, wrapping me in his security. For a moment, I believed that nothing could touch us, nothing could harm either of us. He slowly kissed my cheek, my eyelids, my neck. A torture of a new kind.

Then he pulled away, his hands resting on my shoulders. He stared at me with an intensity I’d not seen before. “I love you, Naiva. You must know you’re in my every thought, my every breath.”

It took everything I had to not fall into his arms and be swept away into our own world. I tentatively ran my hands along his chest, down his arms, absorbing his words.

I wanted to tell him the same thing—to confess my heart—but I was afraid I wasn’t who he thought I was. Nor could I ever be.

“If your brother finds out, he’ll kill both of us.”

*************

Purchase Link: http://www.amazon.com/Daughters-Jared-H-B-Moore/dp/160861395X/ref=sr_1_2?ie=UTF8&qid=1336483382&sr=8-2

Author Website: http://www.hbmoore.com/

Sizzling Kiss

Phoenix Rising Book One: Janus
By: Gail Delaney

Her eyes pinched and her lips drew together in concentration.

The rod tilted, angling sharply toward her hand and she pulled back.

"No, you've got it," he urged. "Don't let go."

She steadied her hand again and the rod leveled, the pull away from him growing stronger. John slowly let go his hold, and the rod held its position. John smiled and withdrew his hand. Her eyes only shifted for a second, noting his withdrawal, before she focused again on the metal.

"Yes," John proclaimed, trying not to let his pride overwhelm his voice and break her concentration. "You've done it, Jenifer. You've done it!"

She looked up and dropped her hand, the rod clattering to the floor, and the smile on her lips was the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen. He'd thought the smile when she saw the wormhole had been amazing, but this smile... this smile topped it with ease. John threw out his arms and laughed. He lifted her feet off the ground and turned them one-hundred-eighty degrees, her arms wrapped around his neck.

"I knew you could do it!"

She wobbled a bit when he set her down, so he kept his hands at her sides. He knew he grinned like a fool, but despite the destruction around them and the bruises he knew he'd have tomorrow, he couldn't have been more proud of her. Of anyone.

"My head is killing me," she said softly, and John winced.

"I'm sorry. It might for a bit, but it'll get better. I promise."

Jenifer lifted her head and looked at him, her cheeks a little too pale for his liking but her eyes no longer looked haunted. "If you say so."

John took his hands from her sides to hold his palms against her cheeks and kissed her brow. She curled her hands around his wrists in a weak hold and leaned into him. John rested his forehead against hers, his eyes closed.

"I am so proud of you."

She leaned back, breaking the contact, but didn't move away, her gaze shifting in tiny degrees as she stared up at him. John opened his eyes and looked down at her, his chest hitching at the shine in her eyes. He swallowed and took in the fine details of her face.

"You amaze me, Jenifer," he said softly, his voice needing to carry no further than her ears.

He intended for the kiss to just be a touch to her lips, a symbol to her how precious she was to him despite the bruises and split lip she'd left him with. She'd fought through more than he wanted or could imagine. He held his lips to hers, not asking for anything more than to allow him the chance to somehow show her, and when he pulled away he smiled.

Her light eyes shifted from meeting his gaze, to what he knew was a split lip, and back to his eyes. The air shifted, and his heart immediately pounded hard and needy in his chest. Jenifer released his wrists and laced her fingers into his damp hair, pulling him down to her again.

She kissed him hard, stealing whatever moment he had to prepare for the demanding intensity. His lip stung, and the salty taste of dried tears mingled with the slight copper tinge of blood but he could no more stop the kiss than he could push her away. Open mouths fought for dominance in the kiss, her deep, throaty purr mingling with his groan. Need flashed hard and hot through him, fueled by her own wrapping around them both. His traitorous body wanted her, demanding, pounding, pushing him to take more.

They turned together, neither leading, neither following, until her back hit the wall and he lifted the back of her knees to draw her legs around his waist. The position minutes before had driven her to break through her walls, had been vicious and hard, but now his only thought was the feel of her body wrapped around him.

John pressed his palms to the wall on either side of her body, holding her in place with the pressure of his hips. Her pulse throbbed against his lips when he nipped and kissed the salty skin along her throat, her head tossed back against the wall. Eager hands tugged at his clothes, and with a flash of clarity, John groaned in frustration and dropped his forehead to her shoulder, sucking in deep, hard breaths.

"No' here," John said against her skin, letting his lips brush the warmth. He still kissed her throat to her ear, unwilling yet to give up the contact. "No' in this chaos."

"One place is as good as another," she said in a throaty voice, taking his face in her hands. "Come on, Ambassador. I know you want it."

A bucket of ice water couldn't have quelled his desire any faster than the rasped sound of his title, not his name. She tried to draw him in for another kiss, and he allowed the contact, but refused to deepen it. Passion turned to a dull ache when he stepped back and eased her to the floor again.

"I want you," he said, swallowing hard as her feet met the floor again. "There's a difference."

She scowled, the light he thought he might have awakened in her eyes gone in a blink. John fought to temper his breathing again and looked down. Her hands hung at her side, no longer reaching for him. He inhaled slowly and reached for her hand, lacing his fingers through hers. She didn't comply, but didn't pull away either.

"Come on," he said, hearing the weight in his own voice. "You should rest, and I have some explainin' to do to the captain."

Jenifer tried to pull her hand free, but he tightened his hold a tiny degree and she stopped. She could have easily stepped free and he wouldn't have stopped her, but he wanted her to know he wished she didn't. "I can clean up my own messes, Ambassador."

John raised his head and looked into her eyes. "Perhaps you can, but you don't have to."

He stepped away and started for the door, thankful Jenifer followed, her hand still in his.

Release date is today, May 21st!

Here’s the DBP site link.

http://stores.desertbreezepublishing.com/-strse-297/Phoenix-Rising-Book-One-cln-/Detail.bok

Sunday Sizzle

First Impressions
Excerpt published by permission of the author, Michelle Sutton. http://edgyinspirationalauthor.blogspot.com/


Licking her lips as she watched him, she then closed her eyes and swallowed.

That action was all he needed to push him over the edge. He needed to taste her again or he'd go mad just thinking about doing it. Setting his bowl on the counter, he gently grabbed her arms and lowered his mouth to hers. She responded more fervently than he'd anticipated as their cool, sweet tongues engaged. The sensual kiss made his head swim with pleasure.

He moaned. Everything in him tensed and heated as they explored each other like two hungry singles deprived of affection for far too long. He sensed her arm moving and wondered what she intended to do with her hand. He was eager to find out and made a move of his own.

A crash made him jump back.

"Oops. I missed the counter." She giggled.


You can buy First Impressions HERE http://stores.desertbreezepublishing.com/-strse-53/%3Ci%3ETombstone-Treasures-Book-One-cln-%3C-fdsh-i%3E/Detail.bok

(paperback also available on this page. Click the purchase on CreateSpace link to get a hard copy of this book)

Bus Stop

The winner who gets to choose their prize is:

Today, just for kicks, Shawna Williams gets to share about embarrassing moments. I'm hoping that you guys will put us at ease and post about yours too.

Let me start by saying that I'm a bit of a klutz and embarrassment seems to be a daily occurrence. By my age I've sort of built up a tolerance to it so that I brush if off with a shrug and an "Oh well." In my teenage years though, that wasn't so much the case. Hence, I'm going to draw on those impressionable years for an experience to share.

When I was sixteen I was in my high school's drill team. Every week during football season we preformed halftime routines. Usually the away games were close enough that we just took a school bus over, but one year we ended up in the playoffs, and one of the teams we played against was three hours away. Because of the long drive, the school decided to pony up and charter buses to take us over.

I had never ridden in a charter bus before so needless to say, the bathroom experience was something totally foreign to me. But... after holding my bladder for the trip there, throughout the game, and for the first hour of the trip home, I could no longer stand it. So I braved my way to the back of the bus to relieve myself.

Upon opening the door to the bathroom, an awful smell assaulted my senses. How could anyone stand to breathe long enough o use the bathroom? I really had to go though, so I turned away, inhaled a deep breath, stepped inside and shut the door.

It was pitch black. I didn't dare attempt to use this bathroom in the dark.

I opened the door and called out, "How do you turn on the light?"

The girls closest to the bathroom answered back, "Shut the door and lock it."

Yes... I understood that the bathroom smelled horrible and with the door open that smell was escaping into the cab of the bus, but I needed to know how to turn on the light. So again I asked, "I know, but how do you turn on the light?"

"Shut the door and lock it!"

This was no help. I desperately had to pee and could barely stand to breathe. I was sorry that the smell was bad for them too, but I really needed an answer. And fast. "But, how do you turn on the light?"

"SHUT THE DOOR AND LOCK IT!"

Fine. I'd just have to figure this out by myself. So, I shut the door and fiddled with the handle. How was a person supposed to figure out how to lock the door in the dark? There had to be a light switch somewhere. I began to feel around on the walls, beginning nearest to the door and extending outwards.

And there it was, a button protruding from the wall. Had to be it! So I punched it.

Nothing happened.

I punched it again.

Still dark.

I punched it several times in quick succession.

Nope!

Okay, either the lights were burnt out or that wasn't the light switch. I thought again about what the girls had yelled at me. Shut the door and lock it!

Maybe they weren't just offended by the bathroom smell. I found the door handle again and began to fiddle. There was a lever, what if I pushed it... Whala! On came the lights. Thank goodness. I was turning blue from oxygen deprivation.

Uhgt - Oh! You don't read what you write...

When I think about my journey to becoming a published author I always feel a tad overwhelmed with astonishment. Sometimes I'm not even sure if it's something I chose or stumbled into. I'm not complaining though, because now that I'm here I can't imagine it any other way.


So here's why my story is a little strange. First of all, I never intended to become a writer. My journey began with an obsession over making sense of a dream I had over the Thanksgiving holidays in 2002. I woke up feeling like I had experienced pieces of someone else's life, and for the next six months I pondered continuously over how it all fit together. Eventually it became too big to keep straight in my head, so I began to write in secret -- because, really... who tries to work out a story from a dream merely because it fascinates them? As I wrote though something transformed within me. I fell in love with these characters in my head, I fell in love with their plight to be together, and I felt this strange sense of honor at being the one to convey their story through the written word. I fell in love with the ability to create.

I toyed for several years more, putting the book away, pulling it out, considering the idea of trying to get published and then convincing myself that I'd written the story solely for my own satisfaction.

Around 2007 I began to feel a gentle nudge in the direction of publication. That's when I faced a couple of new challenges. I knew nothing about the industry, and even less about the genres of the book I had written. You see, I read a fair amount. Tom Clancy and Tess Gerritson were and still are two of my favorite authors, but neither of them write romance. So here I was, a non-romance reader who had written a romance. To add to that conundrum, my romance had strong elements of faith in it. It was Christian fiction romance. Guess what? Not only did I not read romance, I didn't read Christian fiction, and certainly had never so much as picked up a Christian fiction romance. Was there even such a thing?

So that's when I began to study. To my horror, one of the first things I learned was that a.) authors are supposed to read what they write, and b.) the kind of things I wanted to include in my book/s were the sort of things that most publishers of Christian fiction ask authors to edit out. The author of one book I read about getting published in the Christian fiction market flat out stated that if you were a new author, and your book contained a,b or c (you know, the "big sins") then you should put it away and write something else. If you were lucky and made it big, then maybe one day you could publish the story you really wanted to tell.

At that point, I remember closing that book and thinking the advice seemed a tad disingenuous. Wouldn't readers feel duped if they'd come to expect one thing from a beloved author only to find out that was never who the author really was. Wouldn't that be a little like learning Tom Clancy really was a communist, and the true reason for getting his character Jack Ryan into the White House was to make that known. I had to ask myself: Did I want to write for the purpose of being published, or did I want to write for the purpose of telling a story from my heart? For me, it was never really a question.

So here I am, an unintentional writer of Christian fiction/romance for readers who don't read either. And something rather amazing has come of it. I've discovered that there's a whole audience out there.

Blessings,

Shawna K. Williamshttp://shawnawilliams-oldsmobile.blogspot.com/

Thirsting for more

No Other by Shawna K. Williams
http://shawnawilliams-oldsmobile.blogspot.com/

In the aftermath of WWII all Jakob Wilheimer wants is to get over his pain, get on with life, and if at all possible, forgive those who've wronged his family -- including himself. But it's hard to do when there are constant reminders. One of them being his former schoolmate, now teacher, Meri Parker -- Miss Port Delamar Pearl, Mayor's daughter, Belle of the town -- Meri Parker.

After enduring the stigma and isolation associated with the internment camp, the awkwardness of going back to school should've been a cake walk. But Jakob didn't expect to find himself inexplicably drawn to Meri. Or to discover that the pain and loneliness of her life surpassed his own. She needed to be rescued from the wretched people seeking to control her life. And more than anything, he needed to be the one to save her.

Author Bio:

Having never considered becoming a writer, Shawna K. Williams' path changed in a single night all because of a dream. Her early writings were a mere attempt to fill in gaps within the dream and satisfy her curiosity, but later became the inspiration for her first two novels. She is an editor for Desert Breeze Publishing and Solstice Publishing, speaker and teacher on writing techniques, homeschooling mom and multi-published author of historical fiction. Shawna enjoys books in almost any genre as long as they contain strong characters tackling real-life grit -- even if the book is sci-fi/fantasy. She also has a thing for dogs and pygmy goats, and believes the world would be a better place if people aspired to be the person their pet believes them to be.

First Kiss Romantic Scene by Shawna Williams

The engine idled smoothly and Jakob could feel the vibration through the seat. He reached for the keys and the rumbling motor suddenly went silent.

"What's wrong," said Meri.

Jakob looked over at her. Moonlight poured in through the window, haloing her hair, and her widened eyes sparkled in the darkness. She was so beautiful.

"There's something I need to tell you, but I don't know how." He sighed heavily and then whispered. "Crud, I don't even know if I should."

Meri turned her body toward him and scooted against the car door. "It sounds important."

Jakob pressed his lips together. "It's just, if I don't say something, I'm afraid I'll regret it. And things might... change between us."

She shook her head. "Change how?"

"You'll find someone else."

Meri covered her mouth and turned away, hiding her face from him.

Her reaction startled Jakob. It wasn't what he'd expected -- not that he knew what to expect. He had no idea what she was thinking, but he'd started this and he had to finish it -- even if it ended up breaking his heart. With Meri cowering in the seat beside him, that seemed likely.

Get it over with.

Jakob stared straight ahead and forced himself to continue. "I know this is crazy, and we can't do anything about it -- not that you'd even want to." He bit his lip, and then let out a sigh, puffing his cheeks.

Say it.

"I'm in love with you, Meri. I'm a hundred percent in love with you." He looked over to see if his words made any difference. Meri stayed hunkered down, covering her face with her hands.

His heart toppled from a cliff -- falling... falling. What have I done?

"Meri, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I shouldn't have said anything."

She didn't move.

"I'm an idiot, okay. A complete fool!" He swallowed away his humiliation, and reached for the keys in the ignition. "I'll take you home, and I won't bother you again."

Her hand covered his as he started to turn the keys. Jakob looked at her and was shocked to see tears streaming down her cheeks.

"Oh, Meri." The pain in her eyes tore at him. "I didn't mean to make you cry." He touched her cheek and gently wiped her tears. They fell faster. Jakob reached with his other hand, cupping her face and tried to catch them as they spilled over the rims of her eyes. Her bottom lip trembled, drawing his gaze as she mouthed the words, 'I love you'.

His heart stilled. She loved him.

Jakob drew her to him and found himself overcome by the feel of her lips beneath his, tasting the saltiness of her tears, inhaling the sweetness of her skin. There was so much that he wanted to tell her, show her...give her. He had no words to express, so he used his kisses to convey all that he dreamed.

She responded with equal passion, telling him what she felt but couldn't say.

When their need for breath overcame their need for each other, they rested their heads together. Meri's tears still flowed, and Jakob stroked her hair.

"What are we going to do, Jakob? I can't be without you."

Jakob kissed her forehead. "It's okay," he said, running his fingers through her hair. "It's gonna be okay. We'll find a way to make this work." He tipped her chin to look into her eyes. "I can't be without you, either."

The night became deafeningly quiet, as if all life had abandoned -- except his and Meri's. In his heart Jakob understood that the price of being together was to be cut off from everyone else. To keep this secret he must erect a wall. He'd been there before. He could do it again.



Which do you think is more romantic, today's scene or the one posted yesterday?

Intimate Rain Storm Scene by Shawna Williams

Jakob headed for the living room, holding the chandelier by its chain. "Hey Meri," he called to her over the rain. "Come in here."
Meri walked toward the living room, but paused at its entrance as a gust of wind hit her. "The window is broken," she said.

"I know. The wind is blowing south though and the porch is keeping most of the rain out."

Meri took slow steps toward him, crossing her arms and rubbing them as the chill from the storm hit her. Jakob stood in the center of the room with his hair blowing wildly.

"What are you doing?"

He closed his eyes and tilted his head back slightly. "It feels nice. Kinda like standing in the rain without getting wet."

He laid the chandelier on the floor and marched over to the wall. Meri watched as he used his foot to clear pine needles and dirt from an area of the floor. He stood over the spot, inspecting it, and then unbuttoned his plaid shirt and took it off, revealing the white tee shirt he wore underneath.

Her heart jumped into her throat.

Jakob laid the shirt on the ground, then turned and sat next to it with his back leaning against the wall. "Come on," he said. "I saved ya a seat."

She furrowed her brow. Her teeth clattered with a sudden chill but she did as he asked. "This is crazy," she said, taking a seat on his shirt.

"Nah." He stretched out his legs, leaned his head back and closed his eyes.

"Jakob, what are you doing?"

"Just takin' it all in." He let out a relaxed sigh. "You should give it a try."

Meri folded her arms. Then unfolded them. She hated feeling self-conscious. "I don't know how."

He cracked one eye at her. "Be still."

"What?"

"Copy me," he said. "Lean back, close your eyes."

She did as he said. "Now what?" This was nuts.

"Quiet your mind, and just listen and feel."

Meri took a deep breath and tried to relax. It wasn't working. She sneaked a glance at Jakob. His face seemed beautifully serene amidst the swirling bits of debris flying through the room. It was so... him. Somehow, realizing that made her want to give herself over to the experience. She took another deep breath and let it out slowly.

The first thing she noticed was the musty scent had been cleansed from the air. The smell of rain, clean and fresh, took its place. Droplets rhythmically pattered against the roof. And the sound changed with the wind -- becoming soft, like a whisper -- then building into a crescendo with the howling gale. At its peak, rumbling thunder. It was music.

Her body relaxed fully and her shivers subsided. She surrendered to the moment, allowing the wild breeze and cool mist to touch her, tickle her. Tiny goose-bumps rose all over her skin. With her eyes closed it felt as if she were elsewhere -- suspended and floating. Free.

"It's beautiful," escaped her lips.

"Glad you could join me," Jakob whispered.

She felt the warmth of his hand slip around hers, his touch joining them in the experience. Their own private symphony.



Compare this scene with the one from tomorrow and tell me which is more romantic.