Archive for January, 2009
My heroines are usually much braver than I am. That’s part of the fun of having lots of alter egos. In real life, I find lots of things frightening.
Six scary things for fraidy cat me…
1) Being up high, the more open (ladders, glass elevators, ropes) the scarier
2) Fast moving spiders. I know the ones in this neighborhood are harmless, but they still make shudder and jump.
3) Snakes, the ones around here are small and not a bit poisonous, still….
4) Being in confined places, especially underground. Buried alive stories always creep me out.
5) The dark, I hate walking into a dark room.
6) Being locked in, even it’s a decent sized room.
I had no trouble thinking of scary situations and I didn’t mention blank screens, fatal error, or submitting stories.
What scares you? I won’t tell anyone.
Posted by Evanne @ 6:00 am |
In my ongoing quest to find a few hundred good books to read each year, I’m trying authors’ reading lists. So far, the percentage of success has increased dramatically.
Right now, I’m reading Richard Bausch’s In The Night Season. The book isn’t perfect nor is it intimidatingly intellectual. It is absorbing. The author’s voice vanishes, leaving the reader avidly engaged in the story.
I haven’t got a clue as to how the writer accomplished this feat. It’s rare in my reading and by its nature defies analysis. Usually, I’m aware of style and devices, even when I’m enjoying a book. Getting lost in the story is whole other level of the reading experience.
Even if I had a hefty supply of titles which delivered this kind of happy reading trance, I wouldn’t read them steadily. Because, I need to sleep and eat and work too.
Posted by Evanne @ 6:00 am |
Stellata Magnolia enchants me twice a year, considering its pussy willow bud stage happens in Winter when nearly everything else is shivering in miserable little heaps, its well worth its space. The frothy white blossoms have a light lemony fragrance and arrive in Spring while my eye is still starved for flowers.
This isn’t a very good photo. When I thought about what I wanted to share with all of you–another lovely winter beauty–how to accomplish that got trickier and trickier. This photography business is not for whimps. In this case I think a ladder was called for. But, I’m not crazy about climbing to begin with–given the snow–forget about it.
Just use your excellent imaginations and picture a small complicated branch structure with those fuzzy silvery buds on the tips of every twig.
Posted by Evanne @ 6:00 am |
After writing eight full length novels, a bunch of partials, and several novella I’m sure about one thing. When I’m in the process of writing I have no perspective about whether or not the story is any good.
For me editing is an entirely different process than creating. Writing the first draft is all opening up a vein and bleeding all over the virtual page. But, how much of the emotion, action, and scenery that existed in my head actually make it onto the page–I have no idea.
Experience tells me, I’ve left off lots. This is odd, considering I love detail as a reader. As a writer I’ve learned that sometimes it’s fine to omit parts. Readers are smart and they don’t need every detail spelled out and repeated. But, they aren’t mind readers.
Figuring out what details need to be included, and which ones are better skipped–ah, there’s one of the tricky bits.
How much detail do you like in a story?
Posted by Evanne @ 6:00 am |
As I was going through the files for the third dangerous book, Dangerous Secrets, I found a scene that I didn’t make the final cut. Though, it’s unpolished I still like it. So, consider it a bonus for dangerously sexy fans. As always, your comments are welcome.
PS Dangerous Secrets has been contracted by New Concepts Publishing, it’s not on the coming soon page, yet. But, two of my other stories are! And I still have my fingers crossed that this one will get squeezed into the 2009 schedule….
“What did he look like?” Sam asked crossly, aware he should have asked more questions before running off blind.
Karina gave him one of those are you completely crazy looks. But, she answered. “Sort of medium, tan, brown hair, running shorts–you don’t think–.” Her eyes widened.
“Yes, but Jesus, Joseph and Mary, I hope I’m wrong. The description doesn’t fit, but appearance is easy to change. I was certain I lost him yesterday. I can’t imagine how he’d find us. Where was he when you last saw him? ”
“You never mentioned he was following us,” she said quietly.
“Wasn’t sure.” He brushed off the soft accusation he’d heard in her voice.
“Wait.” She bounced up the stairs.
She sounded conciliatory. Sam didn’t chew her out. He had no room to complain–not when he had glossed over whole sections of the O’Brien saga. Especially, the part about how he and his pop ripped him off of five million dollars worth of ill-gotten gains.
“Looks like we both left off a few things,” he said casually.
“I’d love some coffee.” She changed the subject.
He held the door for her. “Me too.”
Once settled in the beach view coffee shop an awkward silence settled between them.
Karina turned her coffee cup choosing her words with care. “We haven’t really talked about what we’re going to do.” She paused to give Sam a chance to add his thoughts but he stayed quiet.
She glanced at him, but Sam’s gaze was focused somewhere down the beach. She swallowed a sigh, regretting her coffee was still too hot to drink.
“You ran down this beach?”
Obviously, Sam hadn’t heard a thing she’s said.
“Yes, this beach,” she answered him patiently.
“Then you turned around and ran back?”
“No,” she squirmed. “The guy following made me nervous so I detoured through the gardens coming back–easier to lose somebody. I probably overreacted I never saw him after I left the beach. Probably just another early morning jogger.”
Sam met her gaze. “I’m an idiot–I chased off half-cocked down to the beach and back up the same direct path to our suite. If I’d talked to you first, I could’ve caught him. ”
“And done what exactly?” she asked sharply.
“Killed him. It’s the only way any of us will ever be safe.”
She folded her arms in front of her chest. “That’s not what I want.” She leaned forward and pitched her voice only for Sam’s ears. “Then what–you’re on trial for murder? Or you’re looking over your shoulder for the rest of your life? Is that what you really want?”
“No, but there are things you don’t understand–.” He stopped talking as the waitress approached with their breakfast order.
“Soft boiled egg with whole wheat?” she asked pleasantly.
“That’s me,” Karina said.
The woman’s smile widened noticeably as she set a platter of eggs, bacon, pan-fried potatoes, fruit, and English muffin in front of Sam. “Is there anything else I can get for you?”
Like a side of sex? Karina thought cynically, wondering if she was going to get her heart broken again–real soon.
Falling for a man like Sam just wasn’t smart. He was used to women throwing themselves into his arms. It would be a big mistake for her to think there was going to be anything more between the two of them than a brief affair.
Casual sex had no part in her life. She knew that made her a laughable anachronism, which was why she wasn’t going to discuss her no-sex policy with Sam. Besides, the whole sordid story of her non-existent love life wasn’t something she wanted to share with hunk-of-year Samson.
Granted, she needed his help tracking down Todd’s killer but if she didn’t guard her heart then she’d wind up a pathetic basket case victim of unrequited love. Or worse. An image of her mother flashed, increasing her determination. A shiver of fear trickled down her spine, confirming the decision to keep her distance from Sam.
“No thanks,” Sam said dimpling disgustingly at the pretty waitress. “Looks like we’ve got everything we need right here.”
She resisted a rude impulse to make gagging noises, pretending a great interest in her coffee before taking a tentative sip. Still really hot, but no longer scalding. She took a second larger drink before setting it down, and then turned her attention to her egg.
“Since you know this O’Brien couldn’t you describe him to the police?” They have resources we don’t for tracking him down.”
Sam continued to consume his breakfast platter at an efficient pace.
She added incentive to her suggestion. “Plus, they would be able to stop him from leaving the island.”
Sam looked up from his meal, meeting her gaze with ice. “He won’t leave Jamaica until everyone I care about is dead.”
That would make us even. She modified her bitter thought before speaking. “Todd pretty much was my whole family.”
Sam’s eyes dropped to his plate. “I’m sorrier than I can tell you that he died. But keeping you and my mom alive comes first.”
“Don’t you think the police can help with that?”
“No.”
“Why not?” she asked reasonably.
Sam’s gaze shifted to what was left of her egg and toast. “Are you through with that?”
She sat down the corner of crust she’d been crumbling. “Sure.”
He pushed his plate toward to center and the waitress appeared almost immediately.
“Can I get you anything else?” She asked anxious to please.
She snagged the bill. “No thanks.”
“I’ll get that,” he held out a hand for the bill.
He’d made it perfectly clear that bringing Todd’s killer to justice was secondary to protecting his family.
She understood his feelings. But, that didn’t change hers. She didn’t want his mother, or anyone else for that matter, to get hurt. Nevertheless, she had to do everything in her power to find justice for her brother. Working with the authorities was the right thing to do.
Obviously, Sam had another agenda. One he didn’t choose to share with her.
“Thanks, but I like to pay my own way,” she said calmly.
Sam reached for his wallet. “Don’t be silly.”
“Taking care of myself is not silly,” she said quietly as she stood.
He watched her march over to the cashier. Seeing nothing but a spine rigid with the rejection of his offer. He dug out five dollars for a tip, trying to figure out how he’d offended her. He’d made it plain that she was in jeopardy. But, Jesus H. Christ, Karina, more than anyone else, should understand the seriousness of the threat.
O’Brien had tried to blow them up last night. And now, she was acting like he was the enemy. Let the stubborn woman pay for her own breakfast. He didn’t have anything to prove. And yet, it bothered him. Even more so when he found out she’d paid for his food too.
When he left the café, she was already out of sight. Once again, his lack of patience had put her in danger. Hell, he put her in danger no matter what he did.
If anything happened to her….
He set a new land speed record getting to the suite, using his key to enter quietly. She was moving her clothes from the dresser to her suitcase.
“Hang on a minute,” he called out as he reached the top of the stairs.
She whirled both hands bracing an evil looking Glock.
Déjà vu, all over again. He strode straight for her.
Slowly, she lowered the weapon. “I didn’t hear you come in.”
“Don’t run off like that again.”
For a few second he thought she was going to argue. But then, her expression softened.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to worry you.”
Sam let out the breath he’d been holding. “You did. I know Todd was you brother, but he was my best friend. What’s more I promised him I’d look after you if anything ever happened to him.”
The softness in her blue eyes changed to back to pure frost. “It’s not like I’m twelve. I can look after myself just fine.”
He scowled. “Yes well, a promise is a promise.”
“Fine, then promise to help me bring his killer to justice.”
“You don’t need to ask,” he said icily.
She offered her hand. “Great, partners then?” When Sam made no effort to shake on her offer she added, “Just until O’Brien is behind bars.”
He should simply shake her hand. But he just couldn’t do it.
“I promised.” He met her eyes, willing her to understand.
She dropped her arm and continued her packing. “Fine do what you have to do, but count me out of the vigilante act.”
“Fine we’ll try talking to the police. It’s a waste of time. But I’ll do it because it’s important to you.”
“Thank you.” she squeezed his arm.
He felt ridiculously thrilled. Knowing when to back off was part of the art of war. And he certainly couldn’t keep an eye on her if she went running off on her own. Once she contacted the police and realized how little interested they were in finding her brother’s killer then she’d be more willing to listen to reason. Having satisfied himself the time spent was worthwhile, he began thinking of other things he needed to take care of in Kingston.
“Let me know when you’re ready.”
“Give me another five minutes.”
He settled down and flipped through his phone messages. To his surprise, she bumped her suitcase down the stairs with a full minute to spare.
Her phone rang while they were checking out and Sam missed the conversation. When he rejoined her, commandeering her luggage he noticed new worry lines between her eyebrows. “Everything okay?”
“I’m not sure,” she answered.
Posted by Evanne @ 6:00 am |
On the outskirts of a small town, there was a big, old pecan tree just inside the cemetery fence. One day, two young boys filled up a bucketful of nuts. Sitting down by the tree, out of sight of anyone passing by, they began dividing the nuts.
”One for you, one for me. One for you, one for me,” said the first boy.
As he counted, several pecans dropped and rolled down toward the fence.
Another boy came along the road on his bicycle. When he passed the under the limbs of old tree, he thought he heard voices from inside the cemetery. He slowed down to investigate. Sure enough, he heard, “One for you, one for me. One for you, one for me.”
He just knew what it was about. He jumped back on his bike and rode off. Around the bend, he met an old man with a cane, hobbling along.
“Come quick,” said the boy. “You won’t believe what I heard! Satan and the Lord are down at the cemetery dividing up the souls.”
The man said, “Beat it kid, can’t you see it’s hard for me to walk?”
When the boy insisted, the man hobbled slowly to the cemetery.
Standing by the fence they both heard, “One for you, one for me. One for you, one for me.”
The old man whispered, “Boy, you’ve been tellin’ me the truth. Let’s see if we can see the Lord.”
Shaking with fear, they peered through the fence, yet were still unable to see anything. The old man and the boy gripped the wrought iron bars of the fence tighter and tighter as they strained for a glimpse of the Lord.
At last they heard, “One for you, one for me. That’s all of them. Now, let’s go get those nuts by the fence and we’ll be done.”
They say that the old man made it back to town a full five minutes ahead of the kid on the bike.
Posted by Evanne @ 6:00 am |
More random writerly type musings, feel free to skip reading this blog.
The trade paperback release of Dangerous Surrender is available on Amazon both as new and used. It was originally released in December of 2007 went to print in 2008, seems weird that my baby is being sold in the gray market of used books already. On the other hand, most books have a limited shelf life. Previously read copies are frequently the only way to find an author’s backlist.
Dangerous Surrender is also available in the Sony store. This seems definitely cool. Not having a Sony book reader, I haven’t shopped there. But, availability is a good thing. Except for book pirate sites. Unauthorized downloads of e-books are like walking into a brick and mortar bookstore and stealing dozens of copies. I’m sure the Sony people are legit.
In November, the Paperback Swap site Dangerous Surrender was offered for free with each order. I’m not sure how I feel about that. Someone must have bought a lot of copies, which should be a good thing. But, giving them away for free? It just seems wrong….
Heck, I’ve never offered a free copy myself. Yes, lots of authors do. Contests with a free download of e-books are frequent in release announcements. But, I do excerpts so we’re talking degrees here…
Perusing the paranormal releases, it strikes me that demons are the new vampires, and gargoyles the new werewolves. Now, I will admit I was a total skeptic about vampires as the heroes of romance stories. And I’ve eaten every word after getting thoroughly hooked on J.R. Ward’s Black Dagger Brotherhood series. Despite, having been proven wrong in past, gargoyles? They just don’t sound sexy. Now, demons are another matter. Emma Holly has already made me a believer.
My favorite books and authors are generally not the big mainstream successes. I’ve pondered this for years, wondering if I’m missing the appeal that is so clear to others or if book buyers favor consistency over excellence. I’ve accepted that there are no definitive answers to the whys of public opinion. But, I’m not alone in my preferences. Most writers are enamored of lesser known authors. So, I’ve found another writer’s reading recommendations a much better bet than any other source of reviews.
Feel free to add your own random notes…
Posted by Evanne @ 6:00 am |
As far as I’m concerned books are like music, the genre matters way less to me than the appeal of a particular number.
Lately, I’ve had a hard time finding contemporary romances to enjoy, romantic comedy offers even slimmer pickings. Maybe it’s me, after a few thousand stories I’ve simply become jaded.
For a change of pace, I thumbed through a few thrillers before settling down to David Baldacci’s Camel Club, which is book one of the Camel Club series. The story moves along at fast pace, peopled with vivid characters and three quarters of the way through I’m still riveted.
Recently, I read a Peter Abrahams story, (A Perfect Crime) that was quite good, except for the coincidence in the center of this otherwise well-crafted thriller. Perhaps, I was the only one who found it less than credible.
Writers are picky readers.
Posted by Evanne @ 6:00 am |
In the midst of December’s snow storm, I wandered out to survey the frozen garden and miraculously remembered the camera. White Himalayan Birch (Betula jacquemontii) looked quite majestic despite being stripped of foilige.
Posted by Evanne @ 6:00 am |
When both Hunter and Tru bond with Amber their mating triangle threatens everything they hold dear.
Determined to help rescue the princess, Cassandra agrees to act as the dragons’ sex slave, but can she guard her heart from the dominant males?
Camille, a plump, sweet-natured breeder, is caught in New Eden’s endless war with Baldor. Her mates, Jaxon and Aegis, need cunning and courage to rescue her. They need a miracle to capture her heart.
Werewolf-whisper Daniel is the only one who can heal Scarlet’s broken werewolf connection. If he succeeds then the pack’s needs will eclipse his claim on her heart. But if he fails, they'll both die.
A Scarlet Past, the story of Scarlet's parents is available on Amazon or Barnes and Noble for just 99 cents!
A lonely woman finds passion with a dominant much younger lover, when she tries to leave she learns her new master plays for keeps.
The Enyo Chronicles includes both Dalia's Choice and Joon's Tempation.
Three different stories, three dangerous men, and three women who deserve them.
One dangerous warrior woman plus two rogue demon males equals a love to threaten an empire.
Getting paid to watch Eduardo is Desiree’s dream assignment, but when he reaches out to her, crossing the line, everything changes.
Deep in her secret heart, she lusts for a sexy pirate who’d be her master and commander in the bedroom. But, this man may be too dangerous
One woman, two men, three wounded hearts--though already mated their love is still forbidden.
A reluctant reporter and a lone wolf undercover cop work to catch an extortionist, finding love requires the most dangerous risk of all.
Street-smart cop plays princess to catch deadly terrorists. Now,the only man she trusts is the one she can't resist.
What Sam doesn’t know may kill him--the love of his life is his worst nightmare--his enemy’s daughter.r.
