Archive for June, 2017


It’s been a pretty decent writing week this week, which was nice.  I didn’t expect it with my work schedule at the day-job.  I’m going to hope I get as much in this week as well, though the day-job should be busier.  If I do manage it, I should be pretty near the end of the first draft of this shifter story, if not to the very end.  That would be a great way to wind down the month.  Especially since I didn’t get much accomplished this weekend, except for household stuff.  I suppose accomplishing anything is good, but I’d rather have gotten more writing in than I did.  On the other hand, there is clean laundry, and my guys have enough leftovers in the fridge to last the week, and I have juice for the next two days.  Now if I could get the mp3 player to import my audiobooks so I can listen at work, I’d be all set.  To be honest, I wasted too much time fighting with that earlier, more than I should.

We have a baby bunny in the backyard again, still little enough I could hold it in one hand.  I won’t, of course, but he (or she) is absolutely adorable.  That was the first thing I saw this morning when I was in the kitchen, making tea.  Not a bad start to the day.

Now I just have to hope none of the feral cats in the neighborhood get him.

Is it wrong that I’m already thinking about vacation when it isn’t scheduled until the end of next month?  I don’t know why.  Maybe my brain is just ready for a break.  I am going to take a slightly longer weekend in a couple weeks, and I’m overdue to drive out to see my dad, though I may try to time that for when my sister drives up from the south to visit, too–I haven’t seen her in even longer, and I worry.   Silly, maybe when we’re adults with grown children, but what can I say.

Before I get back to the tiger shifter, I think maybe a little snippet of Hunting Medusa for you…

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“You know there are drawings and sculptures of the original Medusa, with the snakes and her still very beautiful face.”

“I’m aware.” Her jaw clenched, and she glared at the floor. “Not too many men are in the market for a woman so dangerous, however. Not to mention going out in public like that would be like sending out a worldwide bulletin to your family: ‘here I am, come kill me’.”

He nudged her shoulder with his own. “I’m attempting to cheer you up, Andrea.”

“It’s not working, but thanks.” A larger divot had appeared in the floor, and she slid her shoe forward to touch the mark with the toe.

Kallan released her hand and put his arm around her shoulders. “Should I distract you in a different way?”

“I thought we agreed that wasn’t happening.” She didn’t move away, though she knew she needed to. Before her hormones really kicked in. She rubbed the bigger dip in the wood floor with her toe again.

“Stop glaring holes into the floor,” he murmured, nuzzling the top of her ear.

“Better the floor than you, wouldn’t you say?” She tilted her head away from him, but he just bent to the side of her neck.

“You smell good.” He licked her skin, sending a shock through her. “Taste good.”

Andi jumped when his other hand settled on her thigh. “Harvester.”

“That isn’t going to work,” he whispered, nipping her throat.

“Neither is this.” She resisted the need to whimper when his teeth grazed her neck in advance of a slow, open-mouthed kiss over the same spot.

He squeezed her thigh lightly, and heat shot into her middle.

Well, okay, maybe it was working. A little.

When he tilted her back, she let him catch her mouth. Just for a minute. She wouldn’t admit it to him, but this really was a pretty good distraction.

His kiss was even better now than that morning. Much better than last night. It turned her brain to mush and made her pulse quicken. Made her ache.

When his tongue slid along her lower lip, she met it with her own, coaxing him into her mouth, and then the mush of her brain disintegrated into ash. Poof—nothing left.

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So what did you intend to get accomplished over the weekend that you didn’t cross off your list?

 

 

 

( Photo credit: donnierayjones via Foter.com / CC BY )

I remember being a kid and being asked what I wanted to be when I grew up.  When you’re young, there are lots of things you might want to do when you’re a grown up.  I remember playing with a doctor kit and thinking I wanted to be a nurse–but that was way before science classes, which weren’t my strong suit.  I remember playing with my younger siblings and thinking how great it would be if I was a teacher when I grew up, but that idea went away as I got older–not nearly enough patience for that job.  When I was ten and started writing stories, I just knew I wanted to be a writer.

When you’re ten you have no idea how hard it will be to do the thing you want to do as a grown up, but if you’re lucky, no one will discourage you yet, and if you’re really lucky, you’ll get encouragement as you continue to work on it.  I was lucky there, as I had teachers all through high school who did that.  Many times, though, you’ll also hear about how hard something might be, and shouldn’t you have a back-up plan?

Sadly, lots of people will listen to those suggestions instead of the encouragers.

I admit that I let other voices sway me for a while.  Oh, sure I was still writing, but not seriously.  After all, succeeding as an author was really rare.  I heard it a lot, but I kept writing, just because I had to, not because I expected to ever publish any of it.

Then one year I discovered there was a nearby writers’ conference, so I went.  I met some amazing writers there, made some great friendships that have lasted twenty-odd years.   Even better, I started to think maybe I could really do something with my stories.

I’ve been trying to remember that feeling this spring, after the ups and downs with my publisher over the past year.  It’s been a challenge some days.  But I’ve been trying to just keep in mind the encouragement, rather than the helpful, practical voices suggesting other things, because this is the one thing I love, still love after all this time, and I know I can do this.

Have you had to ignore helpful, ‘well-meaning’ suggestions about something you love?  Or did you take it to heart for too long?  Me, I want to be a writer when I grow up, so I’m going back to my tiger shifters for a while.  How about you?

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Excerpt from Hunting Medusa:

Andrea rested her head n her folded arms on the kitchen table, only half listening to Kallan typing on his keyboard. She didn’t want to die just yet. She knew for sure she didn’t want to be mutilated before she died.

But she didn’t look forward to killing the Harvester either.

She never should have had sex with him. She knew it. She’d known it beforehand.

And she should definitely not still want him.

When the phone rang, it was a relief. For a few seconds. Until she realized it was Thalia. “My cousin.” She didn’t think she needed to explain her mental caller I.D. to him.

Kallan held her gaze for a long moment. “Don’t try to let her know what’s going on,” he said at last. “I know where a lot of your cousins are located, and I’m not the only one.”

Her heart pounded harder at the implication, but she got to her feet and picked up the receiver. “Hello, Thalia. How are you?”

“I’m fine, Andi, but I think you need to get away for a while.”

She frowned, feeling Kallan’s presence behind her. Close behind her. Close enough to hear her conversation. “What do you mean?” His body heat teased her.

“The Harvesters are out and about. I’m afraid for you.”

Andi shut her eyes for a second, then opened them again when he put his hands on her shoulders. She shot him a glare and moved away, back toward the table. “I’m fine.”

“Please don’t ignore this, Andi. You know I’m hardly ever wrong.”

That was true. But she wondered if her cousin realized she was very often late with her flashes of intuition. Far too late in this case. “Okay. I’ll give it some thought, all right? Mom said something the other day about visiting.” Gods, had it only been two days ago? “And Aunt Lydia just called yesterday too. I could go to see either of them if anything seems odd.”

His hands settled on her shoulders again, massaging the tense muscles there.

She didn’t bother to shrug him off this time. He was persistent. “I could even come visit with you,” she teased, forcing a lightness into her tone.

Her cousin cleared her throat. “I actually have company right now,” she said after a moment, and Andi could almost see her blushing. “You remember I met someone in Athens last summer? Well, he’s come again to stay for a while.” Even over the phone, the emotion in Thalia’s voice was obvious.

One more cousin safe—none of the cousins who’d fallen in love ever had the curse land on their heads. A tiny bit of relief made her relax further under Kallan’s touch. “That’s terrific, Thalia. When do the rest of us get to meet him?”

“We’re talking dates,” the other woman said, a hint of a smile in her tone now. “I’ll be sure to let you know.”

“Good. And thanks for the warning. I miss you.”

“I miss you, too. I’ve got to go, Andi. Talk to you soon. But promise you’ll be careful. Danger is coming from more than one direction.”

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( Photo credit: Lida Rose via Foter.com / CC BY-ND )

This week has been absolutely gorgeous here, finally.  After a week or so of mostly rainy days, the beautiful weather the past week has been a glorious change.  I got a couple of tomatoes planted, though the greenhouse didn’t have the lemon basil I wanted, so I’ll have to go back again and look soon, because that is my favorite.  I have lemon balm in my garden that is like two shrubs at this point, but the lemon basil has the best smell ever.

I’m really not just getting my hands dirty in the garden, though.  I’ve also gotten a lot of writing done in the last couple of weeks.  I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I have almost reached the end of the first draft of this shifter story.  I suppose I’m like most romance writers this way, but I think the hero of this story is one of my favorites.  He’s so yummy and wounded and hot as hell.

I’m not saying that I don’t love all the heroes who came before.  I do.  But he just happens to be the one getting most of my attention right now, which means I like him best.  And maybe you will, too.

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Anton reappeared, water bottles in hand. She swallowed and pushed herself upright, then fumbled for the rumpled sheet.

He caught her wrist before she found the edge. “Are you getting modest now?” One of his eyebrows quirked up a little.

“Too late for that, I guess,” she muttered, taking the water bottle he offered.

“Oh, much,” he agreed, uncapping his water while she took a drink. “I’ve already seen it all.”

She choked on her first sip of water, and he patted her helpfully on the back, then sat down facing her on the side of the bed.

She wiped at her watering eyes a moment later. “That wasn’t nice.”

“Sorry.”

She gave his unrepentant expression a narrow-eyed stare, then she shook her head and took another careful sip. “You know,” she started, cautiously, “I can go back to the guest room. I mean, you said last night you don’t bring anyone home, so I don’t want this to be weird for you.”

His green eyes went to slits. “What?”

She glanced away.

“You really just said you’d rather sleep across the hall than here in my bed?”

His dangerous tone made her look up at him again, eyes widening. “That isn’t what I meant.”

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( Photo credit: Foter.com )

Now I’m going to do a little editing, and then more writing tomorrow.  Hope you all have a good week!