News for May, 2014

News

Happy May!

Two releases this month, plus RT Booklovers! The releases show why I love writing in different genres, and how it informs what I do.

First I’ll talk about my new release from Samhain, which will be out on May 13^th. This new series had a long and tortuous gestation. I wrote the first version years ago, and it nearly came out with another publisher, but was cancelled at the last minute, so I never signed the contract and it wasn’t released. I liked the idea, but I thought the book hadn’t quite worked, so I shelved it. Then I was looking for a new historical project and I picked it up, dusted it off and started again. This time it flowed and I found an editor who absolutely loved the idea, Amy Sherwood at Samhain, who has considerable classical knowledge herself.

So what if the eighteenth century was a battleground for the ancient gods? What if, as well as the public wars, there was a private one? What if the aristocrats, instead of just behaving like gods, were really gods?

Here’s the back cover copy:

What the heart wants, it finds a way to take. 

Even Gods Fall in Love, Book 1

When Gerard Sterling, Earl of Ellesmere, races to Bethlehem Hospital—also known as Bedlam—to rescue a wrongly committed friend, he’s astonished to hear a voice in his head that doesn’t belong to his sister, with whom he shares a mind link.

Fascinated and enchanted by Lady Faith Bradley, inspired by her dedication saving her brother from the horrors of the Incurables ward, he includes them both in his rescue mission. But woo her he cannot—not with a fatal disease that saps more of his strength every day.

Faith would slay dragons to keep her brother safe from her father’s scheme to set his simpleminded heir aside. But it’s Gerard, who feels the hot breath of death down his neck, who wins her heart. 

Then it is revealed that Gerard is none other than the reincarnation of Zeus, and they face a far more dangerous enemy—Kronos, whose plan to regain power includes Gerard’s death. To foil his plan, Gerard and Faith must hold firm to the power of love…and defy Fate itself.

I’m thrilled to say that book two is in the works even as we speak! It’s quite tricky, combining the worlds, but I do try to make the history as authentic as always, and the details are still there.

If you click on this link, you can get full details and a buy link. The book goes on sale on the 13^th May.

http://store.samhainpublishing.com/lightning-unbound-p-73405.html

and here’s the link to the page on my websiteL:

http://lynneconnolly.com/lightning-unbound/

The second book?

A Nightstar book. How could I resist writing about hot rock stars? So here’s Riku’s story!

Riku is an American-Japanese hunk who gave up a classical career to join Murder City Ravens. He can’t believe that the woman he loved years ago gave up too, but in order to run tourist jewelry shops in New York. Cyn had a fabulous soprano voice, one of the best he’d ever heard, so why didn’t she carry on with her career?

Reconnecting with an old flame has never been such fun!

Since the excerpts could be overwhelming to some inboxes, I’ll do them in separate posts.

Then there’s the RT Booklovers’ Convention.

Where do I start? I’m planning to do some updates from the convention, but I’m starting my adventure with a week in New Orleans with my good friend Cait Miller. We’re going to do all the things tourists should – go on outings, shop, eat at the famous places, try to experience the whole of this wonderful, unique city.

Then it’s the convention itself at the Marriott on Canal Street. I’ll be there from the Sunday before the convention.

I’ll just tell you where I’ll be and what I’m doing, and then you’ll know where to catch me!

I’m starting with the International Reception in the Penthouse between 2 and 4 pm. This is for people coming from overseas to RT. I remember how overwhelming it can be to arrive and plunge into the maelstrom!

I’ve been lucky enough to score an invitation to the Aussie dinner on the Tuesday night.

After that, I’m running the newcomers, aka the virgin’s class first thing on the Wednesday, the first day of the convention proper. That’s at 8.45.

Also that day, I’m on a panel, the popular History Fan Fictionary panel. We give you obscure historical slang words, and you guess what they are! There are prizes!

That evening is the Mardi Gras party. I’m walking down with Renee Rocco, and I’m on a stationary float, the Ellora’s Cave one.

At 2.45 on the Thursday, I’m captaining a panel for the Vanilla Erotic romance. Everything that isn’t BDSM but is still hot! Come and see what we’ve come up with. More prizes!

On the Thursday evening, I’m reading tarot cards with Kensington on the pub crawl. First come, first served! I’m not doing complex readings, but I’ll answer specific questions, or rather, give some advice!

And I’m signing at the Big Book Fair on the Saturday.

If you’re there, don’t forget to say hello!

Born To Be Wild

Released today!
For six years Riku has wanted only one woman. Every person he has had on tour with the Murder City Ravens has been unable to compare to the electric lovemaking he had with Cyn. They had everything together, love, passion, fire, sex—until the day she left him and everything between them behind. Riku wants answers as to why she left, but he wants her more.
Cyn abandoned her future as an opera singer—and her relationship with Riku—when she dropped out of the Institute. A day hasn’t gone by that she doesn’t crave Riku’s body against hers. Now he’s back in her life, if only for a few weeks, and she plans to make the most of the time they have. Dressing rooms, the manager’s office, no location is off limits for their whirlwind romance. Cyn knows she can’t keep him, but that doesn’t stop her from falling for him, mind, body and soul, all over again.

Excerpt:
Note: although this book is classed as erotic romance, this is not an erotic excerpt. It's been edited slightly. 

Riku strolled along Forty-Second Street and turned left onto Fifth, trying to get into the vibe. He’d missed New York but now here, he felt strangely flat.

Aimless walking didn’t suit him, was all. He’d get a coffee and do some crowd watching, maybe make notes for a song. Ideas eluded him today and he’d wanted to take something new to the band when they met for a planning meeting after the upcoming gigs. So what if he’d come down here on the off-chance he’d meet an old friend. He’d gone to the address he had and couldn’t find her, then had second thoughts. Maybe the rest of the band pairing up had given him the blues.

Shit, they were so busy making love he didn’t know if they’d have time to write music. He kicked a loose stone across the sidewalk. He didn’t envy them. He wasn’t the type to stick to one woman. Women were light relief, people to talk to, have fun with.

A heavy weight struck his midriff hard. As he lost his breath in an oof of instinctive response, he heard tinkling staccato sounds around him as if glass had shattered.

He shook his head, trying to get some sense back into it and saw the girl. Then he lost what remained of his thought process. There Cyn was. The woman he’d been looking for.

Cyn glared at him without surprise, as if she’d last seen him yesterday. “Don’t stand there like an idiot. Pick them up!”

He glanced down. The shattering noises were polished stones, most of them round. Fuck, rolling all over the fucking place. Obediently he dropped to the ground and winced as a stone hit the tender part of his knee. He yelped.

“Bloody wimp.”

Despite the pain he grinned at the English slang. He’d been touring England with Murder City Ravens recently and he heard accents similar to hers every day, except she’d gained a touch of New York burr in her years here. Nobody sounded like Cyn. Never would.

He shifted and picked up the stone, taking more care where he put his knee this time. She thrust a small wicker basket under his chin and he deposited the smooth object. He found five others, different colors. Keeping the final one, he got to his feet and lifted the round object to examine it against the light. “Nice.” The deep, intense blue appealed to him. “Zazz did his hair that color last year. Maybe I will.”

She snorted. “Good luck with that. The stone’s lapis lazuli. They used it to create the most expensive dye ever made. Painters drooled over it.”

He dropped the gem in with the others. Amethyst, tiger’s-eye, rose quartz, some he couldn’t identify. Beads, holes drilled through. “Sorry I broke your necklace.”

Then he met her eyes. “Sorry.” He wasn’t sure what he was apologizing for anymore. God, he’d missed her. He hadn’t realized how much until he saw her. He grinned. “Hi.”

She glanced up, smiled back. “Uh-oh.”

She was staring at a spot above his eyes. Too late Riku grabbed at his knit cap. It had ridden back and exposed what he wanted to keep hidden. “Damn.” He tugged the hat over his hair, which he’d hastily bundled underneath before he’d left his apartment.

“Are you Riku Shiraishi?” another female voice inquired.

He pasted on a fixed smile and turned, only remembering to grab Cyn’s elbow as he did so. No way was she getting away. “Yes, I am.”

“Wow.” The girl gazed up at him, stars in her eyes. “Will you sign something for me?”

“As long as it’s not your arm.” He’d learned not to do that recently. People had his signature on their flesh tattooed in place. Embroidering it on scarves and T-shirts was bad enough.

She produced a napkin from a burger chain. “This do?”

“Sure.” He grabbed a pen from the inside pocket of his jacket and signed the napkin.

“I love your guitar solo on Taking Black. You should totally do more rock.”

He was used to fans telling him what to do. “Sure. Thanks, I’ll bear it in mind.”

She took her paper and the pen and when he turned, signaling his attention to walk on, she got the message and left.

He’d had to release Cyn while he signed but he heard her voice. “She took your pen.”

“I’m used to it.” He couldn’t suppress his smile when he saw her. There she stood with gorgeous long, blonde hair, sharp blue eyes, a beauty with the curves to prove it. “I don’t carry the jewel-encrusted ones around with me.”

She sniggered. “Come on. I’ll make you coffee.”

He fell into step next to her. She carried the basket as if it was gold dust but she had other strings of marble-sized stones draped over her arm.

She paused before a door and nodded to him. He acceded to her unspoken request and opened it for her. Raising a brow, no doubt at his lack of manners at not doing it before, she walked past him and in. He followed her inside.

Strings of polished semiprecious gems hung from hooks on the walls, and a long table ran down the store in the middle, holding trays of charms. While Cyn walked to the counter at the end, he lingered, drifting his hands over the charms, their cool metallic shapes shadowing his skin. He’d buy some of those, add them to his collection. Maybe his costume designer could use them or he’d tack a few to his street clothes. He tried hard to dress down but his natural instincts invariably broke through and he added something a tiny bit different. Maybe he should give up and go full-on. The disguise didn’t work and in January sunglasses looked stupid and pretentious, unless the sun was actually shining, so he hadn’t bothered.

She nodded to the girl behind the counter, whose eyes widened when she caught sight of him. Even if he wasn’t dressed up and ready to go people sometimes stared at him that way. Apart from being a trifle tall, he had no idea why but he wasn’t shy of taking advantage of it. Not too unusual, except his parents often wondered how they’d managed to produce a changeling like him. Not easy to be the child of a conventional Japanese American family wanting to kick over the traces and do something different.

They walked past into the small office at the back. He closed the door. The sheet of her hair rippled slightly as she registered the gentle click, but she said nothing, only put down her basket of stones, laid the strings on the desk and picked up the pot for the coffee machine sited in the corner. Riku stared around, interested. A large work desk occupied most of the cramped space, with grooves cut in the surface. Boards hung above it, and a chest of many drawers stood to one side. All accoutrements of the jewelry trade, he presumed.

The whole place intrigued him but she intrigued him more. As she turned he waved to indicate the room and the store beyond. “It’d be stupid to ask what you’ve been doing recently.” He smiled, trying for sultry and failing badly. He caught his expression in the small mirror placed opposite the big desk and suppressed a grimace. Creepy was a better description.

He lost the smile, forgot the posing. Too used to it recently. She smiled back anyway. “I should say that to you. You’ve invaded the media now you’re back home. Didn’t you do something on TV this morning?”

“Yeah.” He wasn’t too happy about appearing on the morning show he spent half his childhood watching. “It feels kinda strange.”

“Strange how?”

He’d missed chatting with a friend, no biggie, being honest. These days there weren’t many people he could do that with. “My parents never allowed me to watch it when I was a kid, you know, when it had that other presenter. Trashy, they said. I used to watch it on my phone in my room, or online. The forbidden is always sweeter. Now I wonder if they’ll switch me off.” He smiled and this time he sensed the honesty of the expression. Nothing in his face felt taut or strained. “Probably. The difference is I don’t give a damn anymore.”

Cyn knew his parents’ close-mindedness, even though she’d only met his mother once and his father not at all. He didn’t have to hide anything from her and he felt that as a relief. “I bet they watched. What parent wouldn’t?” She leaned against the counter, studying him. “Purple hair? Really?”

“Don’t you like the gold?” After removing his hat he turned his head for her to admire. “If my cap hadn’t slipped nobody would’ve recognized me.”

She took her time examining him and he relaxed, knowing she wasn’t sizing him up like a piece of meat but reacquainting herself with his presence. “Nearly. But you can’t resist an extra bit of pizazz.” She nodded at his zebra-stripe T-shirt. “Grungy you ain’t.” The machine behind her hissed and bubbled, sounding like mechanical giggles.

He released a bark of laughter as she turned away to pour the coffee. “Yeah, you know me.”

“Do I?” she reached for the minifridge and found some milk. She waggled the carton.

“Yes, please. Black makes me antsy.”

“It always did. Nice to know you’ve noticed at last.” She poured a dollop into each mug and put the container back before she turned around, mugs in hand. Were her hands trembling? He hoped not. All he felt was delight that he’d run into her again. Not entirely by accident, he had to admit. “You decided not to go home when you left the institute.”

She didn’t look at him when she passed him the coffee. Not until she’d retreated to her side of the room. “This is home now. Got my green card and everything.”

“You’re taking citizenship?”

A smile flickered over her lips, a nervous tic more than anything else. “I like it here. My parents don’t mind, as long as I go back for an annual visit.”

“You slay me with your enthusiasm.”

That won a smile. Then a laugh. “Yeah, sorry. I just felt bad when someone collided with me and ruined my beads. I’ll get over it.” She buried her face in her mug, took a sip and then held it so the steam obscured her features.

“You’re pleased I’m here?”

“Yes.” She sounded flat but he understood her better because he was feeling it too. Delight at her presence but wariness because of the way they’d split.

“I’m pleased to see you.”

“I’m glad to see you too.” She paused, tilted her head to one side and studied his appearance. “How do you get that pattern on your hair that, well, gold?”

He laughed. “With gold. We’re wrapping up the tour, so I decided to do something special. My hairdresser suggested gold dust. Purple hair with a golden bald eagle has a certain something.”

She raised a brow. “Can’t argue with that. Will it wash out?”

“Yes. Can’t wash it until after the last performance or I’ll have to have it reapplied. The purple’s okay though.” Not to mention the expense. His extravagant clothes and personal style came from a need deep inside him that he didn’t understand himself, born of a childhood where conforming was approved of to the point of cruelty. But he was no shrink, he only knew it made him happy.

“Oh goodie.” She studied him, her face serious. “Did you come here to find me?”

Imprint: Romantica®
Line: Twilight
Series: Nightstar
Series Number: 6
You can buy the book here and it will be up at Amazon, ibooks, Barnes and Noble, and other good outlets very soon.

October Newsletter

Last month was really busy, what with the release of Fascinating Rhythm, and then, at the end of the month, In The Mood going free! It actually grazed the overall top 100 list, so I’m delighted with the results of that. It did hit the top 100 in its categories! It’s still on offer, so if you want it, head on to your local Amazon, or All Romance Ebooks, or Nook, or the Ellora’s Cave website. It should be free at your favourite outlet.

Here's the Amazon one:

 http://www.amazon.com/Mood-Nightstar-Book-One-ebook/dp/B008NMGT2A

I am so happy with the offer because I love to share what I do with as many people as I can. That’s one of the main reasons I write.

We’re definitely into autumn now. Lovely. I don’t really like it when it’s too hot, so it’s a bit strange that I choose to spend time in Texas in late spring every year, but I have this love for Texas, engendered by the people I know who live there and the beauty of the place. Not the heat or the flying cockroaches, though. Not too happy about those.

I’ve just booked my flight for next year’s RT Convention. Before the convention, I’m going to spend a week enjoying the delights of New Orleans with a friend, Cait Miller. We are going to paint the town red, white and blue! But if you have any handy hints as to what to do there, let us know! After the convention, I’m spending a week with gorgeous Desiree Holt and a week with the equally gorgeous Kathryn Falk. Because I can and because they’re two of the most amazing women I have ever met. I’m very lucky to know them both.

Writing – well, I spent most of the month finishing off and tidying up the unexpected end to the Nightstar series. With the fourth book out, I’m delighted by the response, and the people who have written to me asking me about Chick, the band’s manager. I introduced him as a secondary character, had no intention of writing his story, but here he is, bold as brass, demanding that I learn more about him. Chick has no fashion sense in that he dresses in chain store shirts, and orders them by the dozen, has two suits to his name, one of them a tux, and lets his beard and hair grow until they irritate him and then he visits the nearest barber. Until he appears on TV and reads the responses. I used to be a watcher of “The X Factor,” but it’s grown too game-show for me, and the latest twist in the UK is too cruel to watch, but I got a lot of material from the show, and some of it comes out in this book. Similarly shows like “The Voice” and “American Idol.” There’s a lot of drama in those shows, some manufactured, some wrung out of the poor victims/contestants, so I used that in Chick’s story. However the heroine isn’t a contestant – she’s a fellow judge. The story only starts there, so don’t worry, it’s not a story about talent shows, it’s firmly about Chick and Murder City Ravens play a part in his story. It does give me a chance to revisit some of my favourite characters, but they’re there for a reason, they’re not there as extras.

So last night I got an idea. I have only a vague notion where it’s going to take me, but now that Chick’s story (he has another name, Mark, which he uses in private!) is done for now, I want to follow it for a few days and see if it has legs. It’s a contemporary, with compelling characters, and I know what their problems are and where they need to go. Now I need to follow them there!

I’ve bitten the bullet and transferred my website to a new server. You shouldn’t see any difference, except that now it reads http://lynneconnolly.com in the address bar, instead of the Virgin address, but it seems to load faster for me. If any of you have any problems, please let me know.

In a week or two, Liquid Crystal, part of the Department 57 series is coming out at a cheaper price with a new cover. It’s the first of the Crystal miniseries, and the others are still available at Loose-Id. I want to write more stories about the agents at the Department, and I have some ideas, but I need to work on them first. Meantime, if you want to know how merpeople make love, now's your chance!

So I’ll leave you a look at the new cover. Au revoir, mes amis!

"In The Mood" is free for two weeks!

 In The Mood is free for two weeks starting 23rd September! Get your copy here! or use the Amazon link at the bottom of the page!

When I started to write In The Mood I had no idea it would turn into a series. I just wanted to write a book about people who interested me in a city I love - Chicago.
The characters had been bothering me for some time. A burned-out ex-lead singer for a rock band, now reinventing his life after rehab, and a saxophone player with stage fright.
When you walk past blues clubs in Chicago the most wonderful music drifts out to meet you and this is what happens at the start of the story. Matt is walking past a blues club and he hears a saxophone playing "Summertime." He goes inside and he's confronted by the woman of his dreams.
The way the story unfolded shocked me, because it led to more characters I felt I just had to write about. Murder City Ravens is a rock band on a fast trajectory to the top, but that sudden success brings problems with it. I had to write about the different band members and the way that fame impacts on each one, but V is the start, and she will always have a special place in my heart. Each book can be read as a standalone title.
"Fascinating Rhythm," the fourth book in the series, came out earlier this month. That has the Swedish drummer for the band and his deaf girlfriend.
Here's the book description and a brief excerpt. And don't forget, it's free for two weeks!

The sound of a saxophone drifting out of a Chicago blues club sends Matt inside, hoping to sign the player for his recording studio. Instead he finds V. Passion drives them from that moment on, and Matt can’t get enough of her sweet body and generous spirit. But as a former drug addict who spectacularly crashed out of the rock band Murder City Ravens, he has a lot to prove.
 V thinks she’s happy with her lot until she receives an offer to join one of the most innovative and exciting bands in the world. Joining Murder City Ravens could sever her from Matt forever. How can she join the band when she’s spending her nights with the man who nearly destroyed everything they had?
 Matt and V have decisions to make that might give them their life’s dream, but could split them apart. Which is more important, personal fulfillment or love? Is it possible to have both?

Excerpt:

She stared at the tabletop and traced a ring with the tip of her finger. “Why is it so hot tonight?” she wondered before she looked up and saw why.

Most of the heat was generated by his avid gaze. She’d glanced up too fast for him to look away, or maybe he never meant to.

His gaze met hers and they burned together. She’d never felt closer to anyone in her life before, never felt anyone’s soul pass into her and through her, taking her on a wild journey to a new country.

She blinked, deliberately breaking the connection, and forced a laugh. “You’re good. Is that what you did to your fans?” She didn’t have to ask. She’d seen him once, when the band had come to Chicago on its one and only world tour when he’d sung lead.

Now she knew charisma wasn’t intangible. It existed. It sat at this table with her, watching her, daring her to do—what?

“What did I do to my fans? You saw me?”

“I-I— Yes, I saw you.” She decided to come clean. Surely she could talk about that without the situation getting worse? “You came to Chicago on your world tour. I saw what you could do then. You grabbed the audience by the balls and didn’t let go. You held them in the palm of your hand.”

He grinned and leaned back, the flimsy bentwood chair creaking under him. “It’s okay, I know what you mean. I used to watch myself and wonder what was happening. I knew I could sing, but other people sang better, did more. I had something else. I can’t define it, but you have it too.

“I couldn’t walk by the club tonight. I was getting some air and wondering how to perk up this song I’m producing. It’s a great song, and it’s definitely standout, but if I could add something else it would get to the top. Rock bands say they despise the pop single, but give them a number one, and suddenly it’s the greatest art form known to man.”

She laughed, feeling the tension splinter around them like shattering ice. “All because of you, huh?”

He shrugged. “Sometimes. They write a kickass song and then forget the arrangement. I show them how they can turn something good into great, or add a few tweaks that make a track commercial.”

She knew that was far too modest. A good arranger and a good producer could make a good recording amazing. “Is that what you’re doing? Making the Murder City Ravens track commercial?”

He lost the smile and shook his head. “No. It’s very, very good. It’ll sell because it can’t help itself.” He paused and bit his lower lip, his teeth gleaming in the low light. “But when we listened to it today I felt it could do with something more. That’s you.” His smile warmed her, and she couldn’t help but smile back.

“When did you come in tonight?”

“I heard Summertime from outside the club.” He paused. “I’d have come in anyway, just to listen. You’re very talented.”

She glanced down, taking in her sexy though not overly revealing gold dress. “Yeah, right.”

He laughed. “Believe me, you’re the model of Victorian modesty compared to some of the outfits I’ve seen in my time. Shared a stage with on occasion.” He leaned forward slightly, not enough to intimidate, enough to set up an air of increased intimacy. “But you are ten times sexier.”

Waves of heat washed over her, making her feel helpless under his gaze. She felt sexy, wanted, and although she’d felt that way before, it hadn’t happened for a long time.

The lights went out over the stage area and she looked around, startled. “Sorry. They’re getting ready to close.”

He got to his feet. “You have a coat?”

“In this weather? You bet.” She grabbed her coat from the stand by the door, then went to the bar, where the barman had her bag ready. She carried only a small purse, but since it held her credit card and keys, they always locked it away for her when she performed. Ernie winked as he handed it over and murmured, in a voice so low she wasn’t entirely sure she’d heard him right, “You go, girl. But take care, you hear?”

She rolled her eyes. “It’s like I never left home.”

“There’s a reason for that.” Ernie picked up a rag and wiped the bar, dropping her a wink. Ernie, her uncle’s best friend. He lived over the bar, so usually closed the place up. Only one other member of the bar staff remained, so pretty soon they’d have dropped the lock on the front door. Those routines came as second nature to V.

She lifted her coat only to find it taken out of her hands and held so she could put it on. She wasn’t used to that kind of treatment, except from her older relatives and she found it kind of sweet that he had such old-fashioned courtesy. Even Ernie’s deadpan expression, honed from years as a barkeep, softened a little.

She picked up her purse. “Shall we leave Ernie in peace?”

Ernie followed them to the door and, as they stepped out into the chill evening, the lock snicked behind them, followed by the sound of bolts being thrown. Now Ernie would set the alarms, clear the empty glasses and make his way to his apartment upstairs.

A few people still wandered about outside. This area didn’t sleep, and some of the clubs stayed open until much later. This wasn’t one of their late nights. But she felt as if she were in a bubble with him.

She glanced around but decided to walk to the busier street five minutes away. “Do you have far to go?” he asked.

She shrugged. “Not far. I have a place in River North.”

He raised a brow. “Coincidence, because my place is there too.”

She gave him a sly smile. “Bet you have one of those swanky loft apartments.”

He laughed. “Don’t you?”

“Not exactly. Do you mind walking, or do you want to get a cab?”

For answer, he raised his arm and like magic, a taxi drew up at the curb. She climbed in and gave him her address. “I’ll get out with you,” he said. “I don’t live far away. There are some advantages to having a well-known face,” he said, and grimaced.

“What are you talking about?”

“Would you have climbed into a cab with me if you’d just met me tonight?”

Now she understood. “Nope.” She spared him a glance. The lights of the city flickering past gave him a changeable expression, lighting up those remarkable eyes and then casting them into shadow. He sat so still, she suspected that was part of his appeal, that tranquility he projected seemingly without effort.

He was right. If she hadn’t known him for sure, she’d never have left the bar with him, much less gotten into a taxi. “Must be useful sometimes.”

He grunted an assent. “Sometimes. Sometimes it can be a pain in the ass.”

“Fans?”

“Nope. Whatever people say, fans are good. Most of them are respectful of your space, and in any case, it’s easy to put them off if you want to. But there are other people, less straightforward.”

Should she go there? Damn right she should. “Drug dealers.”

“For sure. And other people too. People who want something. To meet the lead guitarist. To sleep with you. To hang around backstage.” He shrugged. “I don’t miss those.”

“I see.” While she could understand it intellectually, she couldn’t take the last step that took her to his exact position, but she could imagine how terrible she’d find being the center of attention all the time.

The cab drew up and they got out. He touched her waist, steadying her. The contact shimmered right through her. How could she resist this urge, stronger than anything else she could ever remember feeling before? Apart from showing a general attraction and calling her sexy, he didn’t seem affected the same way. Not so all-consuming, with that ache of sheer hunger inside, longing to be—completed.

When she encountered unexpected or strong emotions, she tried to put them aside, so she could draw on them another time, when she played her sax. Every unusual feeling made her playing stronger. Not this time. She didn’t care if it helped her artistry.

They stood on the sidewalk outside the café. “I know what you’re thinking,” he said, his voice rumbling in the quiet. This place was quieter, but lights glimmered behind some windows.

“What?” she challenged him, lifting her chin.

He caught his breath and in the next moment, he was looming over her, smiling. “Musician, remember?” He tilted up her chin and stared at her. This close he overwhelmed her, his warmth surrounded her. “Try putting this into music,” he challenged before he bent his head and kissed her.

Want more? Well for two weeks you can get more for free! Here's the Amazon link.

The Hybrid Writer

Sounds like a rose, doesn't it? I love roses, always have, but it wasn't the name that drew me to the publishing model. It's that constant urge to do better, try harder.
So I became a hybrid writer recently, by getting my rights back on a few books and publishing them myself. I never thought I'd do it, but these days, saying "never" is a big mistake. The world of publishing is changing, and fast.
Writing is what I do, it's the core of everything. I love it, and it's what I do best. Marketing, blogging, and now cover design and editing have to come second, so it suits me to continue to publish through other arenas, notably the big digital first publishers.

I was one of the people first in the digital publishing arena, with Richard and Rose, one of my best selling series. First it was NBI, which vanished in a puff of smoke, the owner never to emerge again, then it was Mundania, who sat on the books for a couple of years, but only ever brought one out, and then Samhain, who helped me nurture the series into a best selling, award winning success. With Samhain I get print, digital, and a good cut of the profits. If I was writing purely for love, then I'd give all my books away. And I think Samhain offer the titles at a fair price.
I've recently sold Samhain the first book in a new series. It's an idea I've been fiddling with for some time. I solidified the original idea and kept tweaking it. Recently I showed it to my editor at Samhain, who loved it and offered me a contract. That book will become a series, one way or another, although I only have the one contract from Samhain so far. Would I self-publish? Maybe, but I'm delighted to have the opportunity to continue the writing, and not worry about editing and cover art, and I'm thrilled to have the backing of Samhain's marketing department.
But the backlist and the one new title I've self published are doing really well, too. So I get the best of both worlds.
What about New York, I hear you murmur? One of the Big Five, or even Harlequin? I do have a Harlequin book with Carina Press, but they didn't like the second book in the series (or rather, they did, but the reader panel didn't) so I'm thinking of getting that book edited and publishing it as an original title, the start of a new series. It's a new genre for me, and one that needs a fair bit of research, romantic suspense. I've already done some research into firing a gun (what fun that was!), taking lessons from an accredited instructor in Texas (thanks, Gary!) but it needs a lot more research to take the series forward. Plus, it's blood-soaked and depressing, going as it does into the world of drugs and international smuggling.
So, New York. Yes, I still submit work, but only when I think it's what the publisher wants, and only with selected books. The big five's royalty rates are horrendously bad, but they do offer advances (much reduced of late) and the opportunity to reach new arenas. So why not? The difference is that these days I'd never consider entrusting my whole output to one publisher.

Ellora's Cave is catching fire with my rock star (Pure Wildfire and Nightstar) series, and the STORM paranormal series, but would I send them a mainstream historical? Probably not. It would dilute what I do there, and in any case, EC excels at selling the erotic romance genre. 
I'll choose my publisher or prospective publisher based on what that house already does successfully. What it has a proven track record selling. And more often than not, I'll approach them directly. I can do this with my personal track record, so I know I have an advantage over a newbie, on the other hand, an agent recently told me that she's only interested in debut authors.

Now that's something to think about, isn't it? I wonder why the big publishers and agents are so interested in debuts?

New Release! Nice 'n' Easy

Today sees the release of the third Nightstar book, Nice 'n' Easy! Donovan Harvey, the bassist for Murder City Ravens has a secret life.

Book Three in the Nightstar series.Heart-stoppingly sexy Donovan Harvey, bassist for Murder City Ravens, is also a writer. At his first fantasy convention, he wants to launch his new book, not find the love of his life. He gets both.

Allie, unabashed fan and book editor, can’t believe she’s locking lips with the bassist for the hottest band, but sometime during their first searingly hot encounter she discovers Donovan the man, not the rock musician, and she’s even more smitten.

They can’t get enough of each other. In the shower, against the wall, even in bed, Donovan talks during sex, leading Allie through fantasies she’d never imagined before, presenting her with scenarios she can’t resist, setting her alight with steamy stories he’ll never share with anyone else. She inspires him. He gives her ideas.

But Murder City Ravens is on a world tour, and Allie needs to stay in New York if she’s to make a success of her career. When her company asks her to poach Donovan from his current publisher, Allie hesitates, but her boss makes it impossible for her to refuse without losing her job.

A Romantica® contemporary erotic romance from Ellora’s Cave

 Get it here - coming to Amazon soon!

and there's an excerpt here!