Dangerous Secrets ,or as I think of it Sam’s story, is available here.
While each of the dangerous books can be read in any order–the most satisfying order is as follows:
1) Dangerous Surrender
2) Dangerous Rescue
3) Dangerous Secrets
Sam’s journey is a common denominators linking the books–so you know I like him. ;)
Don’t forget the contest–just for loyal blog readers–I’ll pick a few commenter at random to receive a e-book of Dangerous Rescue. Comments open for eligibility until 8/1/09…
Just for this blog’s readers–I’m celebrating Dangerous Secrets release by giving away a few copies of the prequel, Dangerous Rescue to randomly chosen commenters between now and August 1st, 2009….
Regular blogging resumes on August 2nd, unless I get real ambitious ;)
As usual when I find a new genre that enchants me, I read a whole bunch of titles in the same vein. Lately, that’s been paranormal romance. Vampires, werewolves, and their cousins have been around for a long time. While occasionally sampling an appealing story over the years–I didn’t get hooked until I stumbled across Dark Lover.
Being the fussy, moody little reader that I am there are still only a handful of authors in this burgeoning genre who hit my fan meter.
Recently, I read the first book of series by a new-to-me author that showed a lot of promise. The second title deteriorated rather than deepening the story world. The third shall remain unread.
This sad affair makes me ponder how to balance story development with timely marketing. I’ve got no idea how to manage that–and judging from the offerings for sale–publishers struggle to make the right call on this subject.
As one of my favorites pointed out, some author’s are simply more beloved than others. And some are simply better than others. :)
Every now and then I give myself a little shake. Because, it’s still hard to believe I’m a real writer.
Getting a contract, seeing a new cover, and royalty checks all geek me out completely. And none of these are quite real–hence the need to shake or pinch or just blink when one of them happens. Yep, that’s really my name on another cover….:) Alex DeShanks did the cover–isn’t it lovely?
The other day, I was chatting with another writer. She described her current project enthusiastically. She’s an advocate for human and animal rights.
And aren’t we all?
Naturally, what she writes is serious non-fiction.
As the conversation waned, she asked politely, “What do you do?”
I said, “I write–fiction.”
She smiled widely, asking sweetly, “Have you had anything published?”
“Yes,” I said modestly.
“How nice for you,” she said, and then walked away.
Just as well, I would’ve been too defensive.
My writing is designed to entertain–not nearly so lofty a goal as those of the writers out to change the world. And yet, if my words encourage even one woman to embrace her sexuality then I’ve succeeded.
Sometimes it takes me awhile to sort out what’s really happening from the snippets of conversation between characters and the flashes of action that bombard my mind.
The following mini-scene never happened in the final version of Dangerous Secrets being released this month.
The driver turned off the grin and clicked on the meter. The normally hair-raising ride passed without Karina even lamenting the lack of a passenger’s safety belt. The taxi driver deposited her and her bags at the Central Precinct.
She bounced her luggage up the station’s front steps, and pushed open the glass and metal door. The foyer was dominated by a wooden counter, which separated a small communication center from the civilian population. A uniformed female office stood stoically waiting for her.
“I’m Karina Chadwick, Officer Chambers called me. Is he available?”
“I’ll check for you Miss.” The woman on duty sat to consult a computer screen. “I’m afraid Officer Chambers is not on duty. Can someone else help?”
“Please. I need to know what happened and I want to collect my brother’s things.” She pressed her hand hard against the base of her nose to forestall a fresh flood of tears.
“Have a seat and I’ll see what I can arrange.” The woman’s words were brusque but her manner was kindly.
Karina appreciated both the business-like speech and the sympathetic expression. Any further coddling on the woman’s part would have only guaranteed another crying jag.
Within minutes, the woman returned, followed by a plain-clothes detective. A picture ID dangled from his short-sleeved shirt pocket, a shoulder holster with a dark metal gun rested under his left arm, a gold shield and a small cell phone rode his belt.
“Ms. Chadwick?” The officer held the door open.
Karina stood and followed the officer to a small but neat workstation.
“Have a seat. “ The detective didn’t wait for her to comply with his suggestion. He scanned tiers of shelving holding an array of documents. Selecting a form, he fastened it to a scarred clipboard with a dangling pen.
A lumpy manila envelope lay in the center of his desk. Suddenly, she didn’t want to accept Todd’s effects. She didn’t even want to look at them.
“Have you caught the man who killed my brother?”
The officer seated himself with a discreet hitch of his sharp-creased slacks before communing with his computer. Minutes ticked by as he pecked at the keyboard and checked the screen for results. Finally finding the information he sought, he used the mouse to scroll down the record. He logged out of the program.
“The case is still open. Detective Chambers is the lead detective. I could leave a message for him to call you,” he offered reluctantly
“Yes, please.”
“I’ll need a phone number,” he said more kindly.
Her mind blanked. She rummaged through her tote, locating her cell phone. It needed charging. While she thumbed through her phone book, she tried to remember if she’d packed the charger. At last, she found her cell number and recited it for the officer.
He entered the number into the system, reciting it back to her at the same time, and then stood–the universal signal the meeting was over. She scooted her plastic scoop chair away from the desk, standing unsteadily.
“May I have a copy of the police report from last night?”
He frowned. “I’ll print you a copy of the officers’ statements. The case is still open. If you’re looking for an official cause of death, I’m afraid you will have to wait until the coroner’s office completes its examinations. They will issue a death certificate when they are done.” The detective offered her the computer printout and the envelope of Todd’s things.
She folded the report, stuffed it into her bag, and then accepted the surprisingly heavy package. This time when the officer strolled toward the door, she remained silent, following him back to the building’s entrance.
“Thank you for your help,” she said stiffly.
“Is someone meeting you?”
She shook her head, and then cleared her throat. “I’ll call a cab.”
“I’ll take care of that, you rest here.”
She sank onto the scant comfort of another molded plastic chair, faintly resentful of being treated as if she were a basket case. Then she reflected that she probably looked like a zombie. Her fingers danced nervously over the bumpy paper surface of the envelope. Todd’s bulky key ring was easily recognizable by touch. Suddenly she knew what she needed to do next.
Does it seem odd that a writer is an enthusiastic reader? Not to me. All of the writers I know love to read.
I’ll go further, I would have never become a writer without having been a a reader first. I can’t remember the first romance story that made me think, I want to write these kinds of stories. But, I know that it was within a year of discovering modern romance writing and inhaling hundreds of titles.
Recently, I read a popular women’s fiction author. This isn’t a genre I’m hugely attracted to, but I like to sample widely– that’s how I find new favorites. ;)
And, the author is one who had come up for discussion in the book group I attend. There was nothing wrong with her writing. Yet, I won’t buy any more of her titles. Simply because of her choices. She writes thoughtfully about modern tragedies. The appeal of her subject matter is lost on me. I’m neither entertained or informed by an in depth study of misery.
Do you find a fictional account of emotional disasters stimulating? Thought provoking? I feel I’m missing this author’s point. :(
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![dangeroussecrets[1]](http://evannelorraine.com/wp-content/uploads/2009/07/dangeroussecrets1.jpg "dangeroussecrets[1]")
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 lonely woman finds passion with a dominant much younger lover, when she tries to leave she learns her new master plays for keeps.
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
She finds paradise in the arms of twin brothers, but their law demands she chose one warrior to mate and one to die.
One woman, two men, three wounded hearts--though already mated their love is still forbidden.
