Goodbye, Richard and Rose

This month I get to say good-bye to two of the most enduring characters I’ve ever created. They were the subject of the first book I wrote for publication, and they remain two of my favourites. I doubt I’ll ever get to the end of understanding Richard and Rose.

They started as totally different characters. I used to read a lot of classical mystery stories—Lord Peter Wimsey and Harriet Vane, Albert Campion, Hercule Poirot, and I wondered about two of the characters, especially after I saw them brought to life on screen. What would Nick and Nora Charles make of the eighteenth century?

When I started researching, I knew I was on to something. The mid-eighteenth century was a time of change, in legal and social terms. Before then, British society wouldn’t dream of having a nationwide police force. Sounded too much like a military state to the average subject of his majesty. But nationwide crimes like smuggling were devastating the country’s economy and its peace. A force was needed to combat these huge gangs of criminals, so the novelist and magistrate Henry Fielding, and later his brother John, instigated the Bow Street Runners.

The aristocracy kept itself to itself. Many crimes were quietly and efficiently dealt with in kind, ie the perpetrator would be sent away, or kept under close confinement. Not often, but dig and there are a few cases of interest. Occasionally a scandal would open the ways of the aristocracy to the public. The murder of his valet by Lord Ferrars, the scandal of Elizabeth Chudleigh’s alleged bigamy and the occasional “kiss and tell” (modern parlance, but the practice is far older than that) by a spurned lover or servant would expose the doings of the wealthy and powerful to the rest of the public. Greatly increased literacy helped spread the news.

So the setting was right. I created two people. A quiet, unassuming country girl, and a man from the lower aristocracy, a baron, one with just enough credentials to get himself invited to the right parties. Someone of unassuming appearance who could slip in and out of country murder scenes and solve the mystery, like Hercule Poirot, producing the solution like a rabbit out of a hat.

One day I’ll write those books.

What I got was Richard Kerre. Richard is neither lower aristocracy nor unassuming. He arrived, fully formed, in the courtyard at Hareton Abbey, the run-down house that is the setting for “Yorkshire,” the first book in the series. I’d spent a few chapters setting up Rose, and she was going well. She showed more spirit than I’d thought, but she still came from the gentry class, and from a solid, comfortable family background. I felt I knew her. Writing in the first person was a surprise, too. When I tried writing in the third person, it just didn’t work. Once I met Richard, I knew. If you want to know what happened to those first chapters, they’re what I view as “establishing shots,” written more to get a character clear in my mind. They’re probably lurking somewhere on an old floppy disc, but they don’t belong anywhere else.

Richard has to be seen closely, by a natural observer like Rose, because when we first meet him, he is all flash and dash, and pushes people away. Deliberately. He’s rogered his way through female society because of what they did to him, but now he’s ready for change. His roaring twenties done, he’s looking for a more solid connection in life, beginning to regret some of the more vicious acts he committed. Too bad they’re about to come back and bite him.

I was wary of making him and out-and-out dandy, but since my early crush on David Bowie, I’ve had a fascination with androgyny, men and women for that matter not afraid to reach out and touch their feminine side. In the mid eighteenth century, men didn’t hide the flamboyant part of their nature behind dark clothes and restrained behaviour. They cried, they danced, they dressed outrageously, and they fought to the death, wore swords every day and never backed down from a challenge. I love that period, and Richard is a man of that period. So despite my misgivings, Richard became a dandy. He could never be anything else.

I had to stop writing and re-think the beloved series I’d spent so much time preparing to write. Richard would not be ignored, and I couldn’t do it. The instant “coup de foudre” falling in love was his idea, too. I knew what I wanted to achieve in the coach house scene in “Yorkshire,” but at one point Richard makes a declaration I considered foolish. But he insisted. He knew what he wanted. I went back, found many examples of that happening at that stage in history. For instance, the Duke of Devonshire saw his future wife, Mary, across a crowded ballroom and knew she was the only woman for him. He had to wait for her for many years, but eventually he got her.

Richard wanted Rose with the same intensity and certainty.

Just when I thought I was on some kind of track, something else happened to stop me. Gervase. I got to a point I thought was a bit weak, and I’d discovered a plot knot, something I needed to solve before a reader said, “but why didn’t they just…?”

I needed an answer, so I did some “what if…” scenarios. One worked so much better than all the others and at that point, I had to stop and go back and rewrite all over again. At the time, it was daring to bring in a major sympathetic character with this trait. Now, it’s almost compulsory. It explained so much, rippling over the backstory to make more sense. Why would society behave so viciously to Gervase as to cast him out until he was so rich anything he did short of murder didn’t matter? Lots more delicious research, and I was ready to go for it.

It worked. What I didn’t realise was that Gervase would get his own fan club, that people would love him so much they wanted his story.

So, I was ready. I wrote “Yorkshire,” “Devonshire,” and started on “Venice” before the writing frenzy gave me enough time to send the manuscript out to a publisher. I must have been mad.

Publication

Nobody in the UK was interested in a story so different. They want more of the same with a twist, and I wasn’t writing the kind of book they wanted. But I had enough “this is good but we don’t know where to place it” letters to tell me I was on the right track, somehow. Somewhere was the clue. An agent, in a rejection letter, said I had something that might appeal to the American market. We’d just got dial-up at home, and we restricted it rigidly (it was very expensive at first, but my husband needed it for his job). I found a couple of writing groups and a list of publishers. The big New York publishers didn’t want it, same story, too different, first person didn’t sell well, Regency rather than Georgian, so I tried the brand new epublishing market. I found NFI West. I was lucky, because just before I signed the contract, a friend warned me they were about to disintegrate, so I went to NBI instead. Frying pan, meet fire.

My first editor rewrote the book. She didn’t just heavily edit it, she rewrote most of it and suggested I did it in third person. Distressed, wondering if this was what publication was like, I wrote to the senior editor, who agreed with me, sacked the original editor, and did the work herself. Something she said then stayed with me. “We bought your book, not hers.” A lovely reassurance.

Unfortunately, after a few years, NBI died when the owner ran away, never to be found to this day, despite one of the authors, ace PI Linnea Sinclair, bringing her skills to bear on the case. We formally claimed back our rights, and luckily, the senior staff at NBI had the authority to do that, before closing the company. Richard and Rose went on to Mundania, who then had a few setbacks, including the serious illness of one of the partners, which meant the book’s schedule disappeared.

By then I’d sold a book to a new company, Samhain, “Last Chance, My Love.” I hadn’t realised that my editor there was such a Richard and Rose fan, until she asked me how the series was doing. Of course, inter company etiquette meant she couldn’t do anything else, but as it happened, I was in the process of regaining my rights from Mundania, and when I got them back, I offered them to Samhain, where Richard and Rose currently have their home. Angie was my editor until she left the company to helm Carina. She was such a help, and one of the greatest editors a girl could wish for, helping me polish and hone the books until they shone. She never imposed her own views, never told me where she thought the story should go, and let me take my couple where they needed to go. She’s a great factor in the success of the stories. As is Samhain’s support. They’ve put “Yorkshire” up for free a couple of times to interest new readers in the series, and they’ve always believed in what I did, even when I had a near-breakdown last year wrapping up all the remaining loose ends in “Lisbon.”

The series ended where I always planned. Along with that vision of Richard, resplendent and confident in that courtyard in Yorkshire, I saw him in a specific situation, broken and lost, needing one person to help him fight back. Rose, of course. I knew where that situation was. I timed the series so it would end there, and even I didn’t know its ultimate conclusion, if the couple would live or die, if they’d leave problems behind them, if they’d—I had to write it to find out.

There is potential for more stories, and already I have an idea where I’d want them to start. Not all their enemies are dead, not all are revealed. In 1757, the country is on the brink of war, Parliament in turmoil and the old King’s health failing. The heir to the throne is a boy, dominated by a new political faction, led by his mother’s lover, Lord Bute. If Richard comes into his title then, and his mother is still eaten up with the way he’s wrested control from her and given nothing back—she could get vicious.

Or perhaps I should leave them be.

Anyway, please enjoy “Lisbon” with all my best wishes. I’ve put the first chapter below for you.

Next

Who knows? I don’t. At least, I have an idea.

Welcome the Emperors of London, a family whose mothers decided to call them after powerful emperors of the past. Some have won the Emperor lottery, like the subject of the first book, Alex. Some are relatively fine, like Julius, his cousin, but some are saddled with the more outlandish names, like poor Nicephorus.

I’ve written the first book in the story, Alex’s, but I haven't really started to query these, so I have no idea where they’ll end up. Alex’s story started as a character from Richard and Rose. He was originally Freddie, Richard’s closest friend, but it became obvious something else was happening, so I rewrote it as a stand alone. It took interesting turns, starting in a modest country house, transitioning through a London brothel to the highest of society. I wanted to bring all the excitement of the Georgian age to the page, its follies and even its more unbelievable aspects, but everything in the story could have happened. Indeed, it might have happened, since I often take real life incidents and use them as the basis for fiction.

So I need to buckle down to the practicalities of writing. Now finally I have to say goodbye to two of my favourite characters, perhaps it’s time to say hello to a whole new group.

Thank you. Just thanks, for being there, for buying the books, for writing me such lovely letters over the years. I’m not going anywhere.

They can escape winter’s cold, but their nemesis has a long, icy reach.

Richard and Rose, Book 8

On a ship bound for Portugal with her children and the man she loves, Rose should be blissfully happy. Except Richard treats her like she’s made of porcelain. She’s recovered from the childbed fever that nearly killed her, yet he won’t share her bed and it’s driving her mad.

To win him back body and soul, she resolves to use every wicked, seductive trick he’s taught her. Until a possible attempted murder on board puts them both on alert for the trouble that seems to dog their every move.

Richard is almost relieved to have something to investigate. He loves Rose too much to risk losing her—which is exactly what could happen if he gets her pregnant again. When it becomes clear a series of accidents is no such thing, they realize an old enemy has caught up with them.

It’s imperative for Richard and Rose to work together to defeat this foe, but their new distance could prove their undoing. Especially when Mother Nature conspires to make them endure one last, desperate test of their love… 

---

Product Warnings

The earth is moving for Richard and Rose, but this time it’s not entirely their fault. 

Buy Lisbon here.

Win a copy of Rubies of Fire!

Want to win a download of "Rubies of Fire," the latest Department 57 story? Hop on over to Guilty Pleasures blog, where there's a giveaway.

News for April, 2012

I’m sitting in Kathryn Falk’s kitchen writing this, and I go home tomorrow. Kathryn’s been a wonderful hostess, as was Desiree Holt before her, and I don’t want to go home. Except for the tree roaches, that is. They are huge, simply enormous, and I don’t like them. Love the geckos, don’t mind the other bugs, but not tree roaches. I’ve discovered where I draw the line.

The RT Booklovers’ Convention was a complete blast. I loved every minute of it. The staff worked so hard to make it a success, the hotel was perfectly great, and I got some business done as well as having a lot of fun! When I get back to the UK, I’ll try to do a special report, for those of you who couldn’t come. Next year, Kansas City! There are going to be some exciting developments, and I’ve been privy to some of the things happening next year, which sound more than exciting. As soon as the Convention is over, they start working on next year’s. awesome, and I’m glad I don’t have to organize it!

So, a few highlights, a lightning tour of my month in the US:

I arrived with Gail Northman, and we had a great week touring and shopping in Chicago. We stayed at a hotel on the Magnificent Mile, shops as far as the eye could see, and really fun. Very few things beat going to a good place with a girlfriend who shares your tastes and interests. We went to the Art Institute, and did lots of shopping, went to the Navy Pier, and then did some more. All ably helped by lovely Laura, not forgetting her brother Rob, who showed us parts of Chicago people don’t usually get to see. Oh yes, and I got some orbs on the ghost tour!

After that, RT itself. I shared with Desiree Holt, and I arrived early, to do some teaching on the precon. I met my current editors, potential future editors, had a really successful Fan Fictionary panel and a panel on using pseudonyms, partied the night away and signed lots of books, not to mention t-shirts, totes and one stomach. A nice, toned, male stomach.

I travelled to Texas and stayed with Desiree Holt. After a couple of necessary pyjama days, we toured the area, and I got to go to the Alamo! Then I came to Kathryn’s, and I’ve had a wonderful time here, too. I went to the gun range and fired lots of handguns, went shopping and met some truly wonderful people, who I will miss when I go home tomorrow. We also went to concerts, from a local American folk artist, to the Houston Symphony Orchestra.

So on to news. I sold two books this month! What a thrill! One to Ellora’s Cave, “Last Enchantment,” a STORM book about a Sorcerer who has lost everything and a vampire who desperately wants her to learn to live again, and “Stripped Bare,” a contemporary erotic romance about a Texan lady in London, to Loose-Id. Thanks to both publishers for their continued support and help in getting these books together. And I had more cover art for Nightstar. The covers for the new (as yet unreleased) series are blazing hot, and beautifully designed.

And a new release (details below).

For those of you who don’t have a copy of “Yorkshire,” it’s on sale this month for the princely price of – nothing. Get it from your preferred outlet of choice. It’s to prepare for the release of the last (for now) Richard and Rose book, “Lisbon,” which comes out next month.

I’ll end with a small apology. It turns out that I can’t update my website from the US, so I'll do it as soon as I get home. Or as soon as I’ve slept off the jetlag, so I can be sure I’m doing it right! Rendezvous at Midnight and Rubies of Fire will get their rightful places on the front page and their own pages will be updated.

Excerpt:

This month sees the release of “Diamonds of Ice,” the companion piece to “Rubies of Fire,” which was released last month. Both books have been heavily rewritten, to take account of their new position in the Department 57 series, and to add even more hotness for your reading pleasure. They don’t have to be read together, they do read perfectly effectively a standalones, it’s just that the fate of one character from “Rubies” is followed through in “Diamonds.”

I am thrilled to see this book out on the virtual shelves again. It’s one of the hardest ones I ever wrote, because of its theme, but I felt very happy with the result.

Because of his blood phobia, vampire Fabrice is happy to die once he’s avenged two murders. Until he meets Gemma. Gemma wants Fabrice for longer than a night. Forever sounds good, but if he starves to death, forever might end next week.

Diamonds of Ice is out on the 29^th May, 2012

News for March, 2012

If I could do anything else and enjoy it half so much, I would. That is, I’d do that, and then give away the stories I’d inevitably write for free. But I can’t. I shouldn’t be allowed out on my own, to tell you the truth, so it’s safer for me and for everyone else if I stay at home and work that way.

It’s been brought home to me again, how strange this world is, and how unpredictable. Or maybe I’m just thick. I’m in more demand than ever in some places, and I can’t get my foot in the door in places I used to call home. Ah well, I don’t make the rules, and as far as I’m able, I’ll follow them.

I’ve just sent a post through to The Good, The Bad and The Unread on that topic, and I hope some of you will read it, and more importantly, give your opinion. I don’t know exactly when it will go up, but it usually isn't very long. It’s a big blog with a lot of contributors, and one I’m excited to belong to.

To other matters. I got a release date for “Rendezvous at Midnight” and it’s just before RT! I’ll tell you more about it next month, just before I leave for the States. Chicago, how exciting!

Did I tell you about Nightstar? That’s my new series from Ellora’s Cave. It’s another rock band series, yay! It’s a six book series, one story for each member of the band, and it’s about change. The band, Murder City Ravens, is about to break big. They’ve had two albums out, but a change in personnel has made that invisible something click, and now the band is headed for the big time. It’s not all roses. Some of the members have other interests, and have to choose between that and continuing with the band. Which do they love best? And when they meet their soulmates, do they put that person first? (hint – I write romance!) Do they want to put up with that level of fame?

The band is a kind of infernal cross between Radiohead, Massive Attack, the Chemical Brothers and Oasis – a willingness to experiment, edgy music with a basis in solid rock.

Just to show you what I mean, or to confuse you further!

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qEKlH7Bl47M  - radiohead

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9gqU8blVehc – oasis

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=b64AtjYr6is – massive attack

But of course, the beauty of writing about music is that you can imagine the kind of music you like best! If you want them to play the Rach 2 (one of the characters reveres that concerto) then go ahead, there’s nobody to stop you, least of all me!

The first book is written and sent in, and the second written and awaiting revisions.

And a new release for March! “Rubies of Fire” is a Dept 57 book that was out years ago, and is now reissued. But this is one of the series that I’ve rewritten heavily for its rerelease. It belonged in a specific place in the Dept 57 series, and now, with the reissues, that doesn’t work any more, so I’ve rewritten it to fit better into the new order. It’s sexier, too. I don’t think there’s a sentence that hasn’t been rewritten!

It was a joy and a shock to revisit the book. A shock to realise how much my writing style has changed, for the better, I hope, although it was pretty okay then, and a joy to realise that it still holds up well.

It’s about vampire Andreas Constant, sent by Dept 57 undercover to discover a Department mole in the DIB, the Department of Internal Business, and Roz, a vampire sent by her family to follow clues as to who killed two of her relatives two years before. Although it’s complete in itself, it also provides a lead-in to Sorcerer Fabrice Germain's book in “Diamonds of Ice.”  “Rubies of Fire” is out on March 20^th.

And don’t forget that “Maiden Lane,” the seventh Richard and Rose book, is now out in print!

I’ll be in Chicago and Texas next month, part of it for the RT Booklovers’ Convention. If you’re around, please call!

News February 2012

News

A new year, a new start? Maybe. I don’t know because everything is up in the air right now. There’s not much news I can actually tell you, because it’s all in query or under negotiation, but I should be able to give you some real news soon.

Anyway, I always feel like a bit of a fraud doing these newsletters. What, people want to know about me? What can I say?

2011 wasn’t the best of years for me, but it wasn’t a complete washout. One book took much more time that I’d ever imagined it would, and that was the last Richard and Rose book, Lisbon. But edits are done and it’s almost there. I so miss doing the historicals, and I have written another one, but that is going out on query soon, once I’ve given it just one more polish! Instead of being Freddy’s book, it’s the start of a new series. I can’t really say much, except that characters sprang out at me while I was writing it, and their stories are mulling away, waiting to be told.

That’s why I enjoy writing series. I find a new character, but I need to get to know them. Featuring them in other stories and books means I can explore aspects of their characters, and I do find that giving them space and time means they have time to come out as three dimensional as I can make them.

I hope to have a new release for you soon, a one-off story for Decadent, set in my paranormal world, but with a completely new set of characters and ideas. Department 57 and STORM are left behind for this one, a story about the children of vampires, who aren’t vampires themselves, but can see and communicate with ghosts.

That doesn’t mean that I necessarily believe in ghosts. I’ve seen them, just as I’ve seen a UFO, but in real life I remain open minded. However, the ghosts of my stories are different, and I can do what I like with them! The ghost in this one was based on a program I saw once about ghost hunting in the old Queen Mary liner. While this story takes place on a different liner, it’s based heavily on the Queen Mary, now a floating hotel and reputed to be very haunted. It’s called “Rendezvous at Midnight” and it will be out soon at Decadent Publishing.

I do have release dates for two Department 57 stories. These are reprints, but very heavily rewritten. The plot and the characters remain, so you can reacquaint yourself with Andreas and Fabrice, but Rubies of Fire and Diamonds of Ice are the last two Department 57 reprints, coming out in March and May respectively. After that, it’s all brand new, and I’m already planning the next one!

And I designed a new header. It has my ugly mug on it, but it’s not a bad photo, taken at an RNA chapter meeting. I don’t even remember it being taken, but I do love the result, so thank you, Sheila! Any opinions gratefully received!

I did once have a professional photo session done, but he insisted that I took off my glasses, and I wear them all the time, and they were just so awful I couldn’t bear to use them anywhere. All the photos I use for author pictures are ones taken by friends or family, with me in more relaxed moments, and all but one is in natural light. I’m not very photogenic, so I keep the ones that turn out looking okay.

I’ve finished booking for RT Booklovers’ Convention. It’s in Chicago this year, and although I’ve been to Chicago before, I loved the place and I’m looking forward no end to going back there. I’ve taken a few days beforehand to stay in a hotel in the center of the city to reacquaint myself with it, and this time I won’t be alone. The last time, the volcano held a lot of people up. This time it might be the traditional Easter strikes at the airports, but I’ll just keep everything crossed that I get there okay. And thank goodness for the long battery on the Kindle!

January, 2012

News

First thing’s first.

Happy new year! I hope this year brings everything to you that you want and a few surprises that aren’t unwelcome!

If you want to pick up “Sunfire” for free, you have a few more days before it goes back to its original price. I love offers like this, and usually it’s me doing the picking up, but here are a couple of links so you can download a free copy of the first Pure Wildfire book (it’s a self contained story, no cliffhangers!) then quick sharp, go here:

All Romance Ebooks - http://www.allromanceebooks.com/storeSearch.html

Barnes and Noble – http://is.gd/DKTJKi

I’m not including the Kindle link, because it never seemed to go up on Amazon for free, but if you have a Kindle, you can download the Mobipocket version and it will go on the Kindle fine, if you sideload it or use Calibre, or you can download a different format (try to avoid pdf, because it doesn’t convert well) and use Calibre to convert and upload it.

People usually take stock at this time of year, and while I try to avoid it because after all, it’s just a date, there are a few things I have to do, like keep track of the many and diverse places where I have my books. And I do have two resolutions. To lose a little weight, which is a regular, especially before RT, and something I rarely achieve, and to have another go at the big publishers. I’d love to see my name on a historical from one of the big houses! I know they aren’t the powerhouses they used to be, and in 2011 I became a Harlequin author, through Carina, but I’m starting a new series and I’d love to get a new contract to go with it!

On that new series – with the Richard and Rose series coming to an end in 2012 (Lisbon has a release date in June), I’m thinking of starting a new series. It’s still set in my favourite historical decade, the 1750’s, but it’s about an entirely new set of people. They will have similarities to Richard and Rose, because people living in a certain era do have that similarity going, but with very different concerns.

And on that note, many, many thanks to the beta readers who I appealed for last month. Your help has been absolutely invaluable.

I do have yet another historical series in mind, one I’ve planned for a very long time and not had the time to write, because Richard and Rose, Secrets and the Triple Countess took up so much time, but I do plan to write it this year. It’s based a decade earlier than most of my books, and has Jacobites in it, but it’s a very different view. Where I live, Lancashire, was historically a Jacobite stronghold, so I’d be able to use some of my local history research in this series.

For other genres – yes, there’s lots going on there, as well. I have an upcoming book with a new to me publisher, Decadent, and the second Trust book is with my editor at Carina, so keep everything crossed! I’ve put a new STORM book through to my editor at Ellora’s Cave, and a new series idea, together with the first novella in a new rock band series, although this time the stories are non-paranormal. I tend to start with the dilemmas I want to tackle, and work out which genre it’s best suited to. So, although romantic suspense was a new genre to me last year, when I wrote Learning to Trust, I tried to enhance the trust issues by putting them in a romantic suspense context. If that makes sense. I also have the last two rewrites in the Department 57 series in preparation for Loose-Id, so after that, it’s all new books! The first book, Rubies of Fire, which is a heavy rewrite, to account for its new position in the series, is out in March.

Last year wasn’t stellar for me in terms of earnings, but if you’re a writer, you learn to ride with that. I’m extremely fortunate that I don’t have to rely on my writing earnings to eat, but I take the view that it’s a branch of the entertainment industry which is volatile at best. I did mean to do a bit more on the self publishing front, but I didn’t find the time.

You might like to read the column I wrote for The Good, The Bad and The Unread about my year of reading dangerously – trying to find a new historical romance author to love.

http://is.gd/5yrWaZ

I found one! But that’s me as a reader, a voracious one, not a writer.

Oh, and I’ve been nominated for four awards! Two CAPAs from The Romance Studio, and two Love Romance awards. Here are the details in case you want to vote for me or any of the other great authors there:

http://theromancestudio.com/capa.php

http://groups.yahoo.com/group/LoveRomancesCafe/message/280796

I don’t often do the “vote for me” thing, because I figure you’ve done your bit by buying the books! But if you find yourself over there, and you’re at a loose end, feel free!

And the Richard and Rose series was named as Series of the Year from MizLoveLovesbooks, too. I’m so happy!

http://www.mizlovelovesbooks.com/2011/12/best-of-2011.html

December Newsletter

News

It’s been a funny old month, what with one thing and another, but on the whole, a good one. After all, my first Carina title has been released, and I’ve been very happy with the way things are working out there. Great, professional staff, fantastic support. It’s my first romantic suspense, although I do hold a romantic suspense award (funny old world, isn’t it?) so it’s been a learning process, but also a very enjoyable one.

Funny old year, too, come to that. Doors closing, doors opening, but at the end of the year I’m in a better place than when it started, and that’s what counts, isn’t it? Two new publishers, the others happily ongoing, one day I’ll have to slow down. One day.

Some drastic changes this year, and not necessarily for me. The publishing world is going through huge changes, and while speculation is interesting, the truth is that nobody knows. Nobody. People are trying to influence the change, and usually the change goes with the money, but sometimes someone or something will come out of left field, leaving the others saying, “Whoa, what just happened there?” It’s like that song out of “West Side Story,” “Something’s Coming.” But nobody is quite sure what it is.

I took part in NaNoWriMo last month, and I won! I wanted to write the next STORM story, and it’s about Oliver, Earl of Cranfield, who first appeared in “Emotion in Motion.” Writing about the modern aristocracy is an interesting change, especially when the aristocrat in question has lived a bit longer than the average lord. A couple of hundred years. He’s a vampire, you see, which complicates matters a bit. Well, the first draft is nearly written.

And after my resolution of last year, I wrote some books that don’t have a home. Yet. I wanted to give the muse a chance this year, and write books that interested me. Not that the books I already write don’t, but I had a few ideas that were driving me crazy, so I had to write them. I’m still pondering what to do with them! They are contemporary, but in different genres. I think that next year they’ll come into their own.

Sales? Loose-Id have offered me a contract on the last two reprints of the Department 57 series, Rubies of Fire and Diamonds of Ice. Not the last in the series, but the last two I wrote for Triskelion before it went into liquidation. I’ve drastically rewritten Rubies of Fire to fit its new position in the series. I can honestly say it’s almost like a new book. And I’m preparing to get to work on Diamonds of Ice. Exciting times, since now I can look forward to the new books in the series, and characters who have been waiting an awful long time for their stories to come out!

And I have my cover for the last Richard and Rose book, “Lisbon.” Pretty? I think so!


Excerpt:

Shall we have a new snippet from “Strangers No More”? Instead of a sexy bit, let’s have the setup, the very first pages. There is some strong language in this excerpt.

Neville’s decision didn’t surprise Whitney one bit. She kept her expression bland, but inside she decided to tough this one out, to take a stand. To make him say it.
“Why not?”
Neville blinked, surprise showing for a bare instant in his heavenly blue eyes, eyes that had fooled many an interviewee into thinking he was a pushover. “What do you mean, why not?”
Whitney sighed and shook back the curtain of dark hair framing her face. She’d have to go at this the hard way and tell him straight out. He wanted to humiliate her, make her admit it. Open questions were Neville’s stock in trade on his top-rated interview show, but she knew him better. She’d force him into saying something. Then she’d sue his ass. “Why won’t you give me the job? I’m qualified for it, much more than some of the bimbos I’ve seen coming in for interviews over the last few days. I’ve worked at NewsInc for five years now, so I know my way around and what the company expects. I can do it.”
He sighed and glanced away. “Some of those bimbos are highly qualified,” he said. “Beauty and brains in one package is hard to resist.”
At least he admitted it. He wanted a beauty to cover the foreign correspondent’s job, or someone did. Neville helmed and edited the wildly successful show that had attracted the sharks to NewsInc. A mixture of current affairs and chitchat, it was unlike anything else on TV, as it combined real news reporting with lighter fare. Whitney wanted the heavier job, the news side.
She held her ground. She was probably being unfair to some of the women she’d seen trooping into Neville’s office over the last week, but she’d take the chance. Neville was being unfair to her. “Not as well qualified as I am. Would they stand in the center of a battle zone with a mic and camera propped up against a stone, shouting to be heard above the barrage? Not if it spoiled their perfect hairstyles, they wouldn’t.” She’d done the job for the smaller company she’d worked for before NewsInc, but now Nev and the new owners wanted to expand the show and they needed new personnel. She could do it and she was tired of working in the back office, doing radio and research.
He clamped his mouth shut and she suddenly had a vision of editors in years gone by, clenching their lantern jaws on their cigars while the presses rolled. What made Neville different from other talk-show hosts was that he remained a newsman, never let the glamour take over. And the new situation had chafed him more than somewhat, she knew because she’d spotted the occasional twitch or frown. She was a journalist, after all, expected to notice these small signals.
Because of their respect for his abilities and the way he’d flashed through the broadcasting universe like a shooting star, everyone who worked here had let him get away with too much. Not this time. “You said you wanted more than a pretty face, someone with experience and nerve, someone who’d go out in the field and send reports back from the front line.”
These days the news got out almost as fast as it hit Twitter. And it needed professional journalists like her to deliver it. “It’s no good sending someone into the field who doesn’t know both the company and the background to the news. You know that, Nev.” None better. Nev had earned his battle scars, though none of them were visible on his smooth, handsome outer shell. He’d been in the Near and Far East, Iraq, Afghanistan and other trouble spots, he’d been there and ducked the bombs. He didn’t look quite so smooth and glossy out there either. She preferred the journalist Nev to the anchor Neville. Today he wore an Italian tailored suit and a button-down white dress shirt—the open neck the only sign of casualness about him. His dark-blond hair was smoothed back, maybe even gelled, and his face closely shaved. She’d rather see the grubby journalist in the crumpled jeans and T-shirts. But that was just her.
“These girls have some impressive credentials.”
Girls? Shit, she had no chance here, not if her boss thought of the applicants as “girls”. Not that it would stop her trying. She owed it to herself, to the rest of the women fighting to make a serious name in modern journalism. No, fuck that. She wanted this job, period. She wasn’t doing it for anyone else, she was doing it for her. “So there’s no problem, right? I have the experience and the knowledge. I even have the qualifications.” What more does he want?
Neville shifted in his chair, the worn leather not giving out even a squeak, he’d done it so often. He’d brought the chair from home, something that had some kind of relevance to him but she had no idea what. He glanced away, down to her application, which currently lay on his cluttered desk. “It’s more than that.”
And then she knew. He wasn’t telling her the entire truth. It wasn’t Nev, it was Mattson—the big guy, the disgustingly wealthy man who’d just added NewsInc to his portfolio of media interests. He was notorious for effecting change, putting in his own people when a natural vacancy occurred. Or he’d just order those below him to do it. Old Man Mattson had told Neville to employ the pretty ones.
Nev sighed and rubbed his jaw, his discomfort palpable. “I’d hire you if I could. You’re good at what you do. But I want someone who’s comfortable in China.”
Fuck, oh fuck. She didn’t have much experience in that part of the world. If he lucked on a bimbo who’d visited China, who knew it better than she did, she wouldn’t stand a chance.
“Do you speak any Chinese languages?”
“Some.” Not well enough. “But I can get up to speed fast.” Even if it killed her. But she didn’t know her way around China, had few contacts there.
“I interviewed a few interesting candidates today.” He was looking more comfortable now, an easy smile slowly spreading over his face. “One of them is fluent in Mandarin and she lived in China for a couple of years.”
She’d lost.

http://www.jasminejade.com/p-9658-strangers-no-more.aspx 

November Newsletter

November News

Some months are quiet, but not, as it turned out, October!

At the start of the month, the latest Dept 57 book, Bloody Crystal was released. I adored writing this one, as it was set partly in a place that my husband and I love, Llandudno in Wales. But I told you all about that last time!

Then I got word that Strangers No More was being moved up to fill a vacant release spot, so that came out at the end of October. The story of a woman who needs plastic surgery to further her career as a journalist and news reporter. It was fun writing it, and showing the other side of cosmetic procedures, where it benefits someone. Her lover already wanted her, but he was worried, too. Would the new nose change her, would she let him make love to her in the light?

And then I had to prepare for a big release for me, in November. It’s big, because it’s my first mainstream romantic suspense, and my first release with Carina. As yet, I haven’t heard officially about the second book in what I want to be a trilogy, but I’m keeping everything crossed! Learning To Trust will be out towards the end of November. If any of you here are reviewers, there’s a copy on netgalley that you can pick up.

So all go here in the Connolly household!

The Festival of Romance was great fun, and I met some lovely people, and renewed my friendship with others. Jean Fullerton was there, doing one of her wonderful talks – if you ever get the chance to see Jean, I can highly recommend it. I took part in Charlie Cochrane’s first 150 word workshop, and I read the first 150 words of “Shifting Heat.” I was on the paranormal panel, and that was interesting, as paranormal is a fairly new romance genre for the UK market. I have no idea why the greats haven’t caught on yet, but they probably will in time, as how do you ignore someone as good as Nalini Singh?

And for November – I’ve signed on to NaNoWriMo! I must be mad, but I needed to get a book done, and that boot up the backside can really help. So far I’m only 6,000 words in, but I do want to get on and get it written, at least the first draft.

Finally – yesterday, so hot off the press, so to speak, I got an offer of a contract from Decadent Press. I’m so please. It’s a story about a haunted ocean liner, but it’s paranormal, not realistic, as I’ve given the characters and the ghosts attributes they don’t usually get! I’m so glad this story is getting an airing.

I write several stories that I have no home for, just because I need to write them. Recently, I realised that although I write in several genres, that’s because it’s the best way to explore an issue that interests me. So the venture into romantic suspense is because I want to explore trust in extreme circumstances – who do you trust, when you’re not sure about anything anymore? And where do you find the courage to do it? So I’m planning to change my tagline to reflect it. I’ve had several thoughts, but I haven’t discovered the final one, yet. I like “All roads lead to romance,” but it’s too clichéd, so I’m still working on that theme. Rebranding, in a way, but I don’t like to think of myself as a brand. More a force of nature! If you can think of a good tagline, there’ll be a little thank you gift on its way to you!

And I’ve been working towards Romantic Times next April. I’m on at least one panel, and I’ll be around all week, so I’d absolutely love to see you there, if you can make it. In these troubled times, we all need a little romance to warm us at night.

Excerpt

Strangers No More – a new story from Ellora’s Cave

Over 18’s only, please.

Whitney slid her keycard into the slot of a hotel room door in downtown L.A., the kind of hotel that hosted conventions and business meetings. Anonymous and huge. The green light flashed and she pushed the door open.

Someone dragged her into the room and slammed her against a wall. The door clicked shut, blocking out the only light available. The room was in pitch darkness, the windows covered, the lights out. She hit the wall with a soft thud, her face against the paper.

Her attacker grabbed her around the waist, his free hand dragging her head back by her hair, and then his mouth crashed down on hers, taking her with a hot desperation that flung her into the whirlwind. Now she couldn’t think. Now she could only feel. His hips pressed against hers at an awkward angle but he twisted them against her and she felt the insistent bulge of his erection.

The moment his lips came into contact with hers, she knew him. Knew that pressure, the way his mouth felt against hers, the way he flicked her lips with his tongue in an unspoken request—demand—that she open for him.

When she didn’t obey immediately, he nipped her bottom lip and when she opened her mouth to protest, he surged in, soothing the bite with his tongue in a gentle caress before resuming his fierce attack on her. She tasted him, peppermint and a touch of something else, something fruity. He’d had a glass of wine recently. He never met her drunk, but he sometimes tasted of wine and sometimes brandy. She loved it. It added a tinge of danger, the threat that he might get carried away and ignore her needs. But he never did.

“Never” being three times. They said that three times and one was hooked. Three cigarettes, three shots of heroin, three “Stranger Danger” encounters. The man with no name gave her what she needed, what she craved. He fed her addiction and she fed his.

He took her mouth with an intensity she could respond to only with the kind of helpless acceptance she never demonstrated in her real life. The life outside this door. Whimpering, she followed him when he withdrew, begging for more. With a grunt, he turned her around so her back pressed against the hotel wallpaper. Her backbone rolled against the hard surface but she welcomed the discomfort. He wasn’t going to stop. He seemed as desperate as she was. That had connected them from the first time, and he was no less desperate now. He wanted her.

Here, in the dark. No excuses, no explanations needed here.

He connected with her again, tilting his head to bring his mouth down on hers in a deeper, harder fusion. He swept his tongue around her mouth in total mastery. She opened for him and lifted her chin to meet his demands. He was much taller than she but then most people were. He must be over six feet, with the kind of abs a girl could get lost exploring. What a way to lose direction.

She grasped his shoulders, felt the rough edge of a T-shirt under her palms and groaned into his mouth. She loved the mounds and dips of his body. Fuck, this guy was ripped. Whoever he was.

He pressed against her, his pecs to her shoulders, and bent to kiss her. Sliding his hands around her waist, he lifted her with a convulsive motion, making her gasp for breath. The thick cotton of his pants rasped against her jeans, the only sound in this hushed room. Lifting his head, he spoke in Greek. He had a deep, gravelly voice and he rarely spoke much. Just to give her instructions. Her Greek was better than her Mandarin, but hardly fluent. In this situation, it didn’t have to be. “Skirt,” he said now. “Not trousers.”

It took her a minute to process the words, and she had to concentrate. Maybe it was time to buy that teach-yourself-Greek DVD. By the time she’d taken a step, he was on her, dragging down her zipper before he shoved her jeans down her legs. He thrust his hand between her thighs but the pants weren’t far enough down her legs for her to open them properly. Bending, he dragged off her sneakers and tossed them aside. They landed in dull thumps. Then he was back, tugging at her jeans again. He got one leg completely off but the other leg tangled around her ankles. She kicked, but it didn’t help.

With a rough word of frustration, a word she guessed must be a Greek curse, he stood once more, lifting her and setting her on a nearby table, dumping her as if she were a doll on the polished surface. She could only hope it would hold her weight because he didn’t give her a chance to protest. She gripped his shoulders as he pressed his nose against her crotch through her panties and inhaled noisily. His soft groan told her he liked it, that he wanted her.

He stood and her hands dropped to his chest, slid down the thin fabric over his lean but powerful muscles. Not bulky with gym-pressed goodness but strong as if he used them for his work. Maybe he was a builder or a construction worker, or maybe he worked at sea. Maybe a soldier.

She wanted him hot, exploring her near-naked body, taking her, forcing her to do what she wanted. Because he knew she wanted it too. He must know, from her response and the perfect way he took her.

He pushed his hand between her legs, forcing them open, and slid a finger under the elastic of her panties. She’d worn red silk for him. Stupid, unless she told him the color, but the texture was great and she knew she was wearing red. She needed that jolt of courage before she came here, or wherever he told her to be. Always a hotel, a good hotel. She found the keycard waiting for her at the desk when she asked for Nikos Sandaloros. Not his name, she was sure. She’d Googled it and found nothing relevant. She never called him Nikos. Only “Stranger”.

Strangers in the dark, meeting for anonymous, hot and dirty sex. That was the way it was meant to be. But Whitney is increasingly drawn to her Stranger, more than she should be. Even if once he sees her face, he’ll run screaming. Then Whitney receives an offer from the Durban Trust for cosmetic surgery. Although she knows looks don’t matter, they’ve cost her too many promotions. She has to change her face to change her life.

Her colleague Jay—reporter and thriller writer—has a secret to match Whitney’s. He’s her Stranger. He doesn’t give a damn about her face, but how does he tell her? Now Jay has two secrets. He put her forward for the surgery. Once he tells her, she’ll kick him out of her life, but he has to take that chance. He only wants her to get the job. Because she already has him. Hook, line and sinker.

News

“Tempting Spy” was released this month, and it’s had a great reception. This was the book I wrote after the sturm und drang of “Lisbon,” about which more later. A froth of a book, set in modern day London, this got me out of the writing slump I managed to get into. Sometimes when you try hardest, you end up with that kind of exhaustion.

And another new release this month! It’s “Bloody Crystal,” a brand new Department 57 book, and the last of the “Crystal” miniseries. Finally, the villain gets his comeuppance, though not in a way anyone expects. It starts in Llandudno, Wales, a charming little seaside down, of the gentrified Victorian variety, and ends in Chicago, via New York, all places I know and enjoy very much. It was a treat to be able to link some of my favourite places this way! The hero is Rhodri, a Welsh vampire. It would have been too easy in a way to make him a Welsh dragon! He meets Cerys, a young, inexperienced, but not innocent, vampire, and together they get far closer to their adversary than they would have done apart. When the Department gets involved, Cerys meets gorgeous merman Kai, the hero of “Crystal Tides” and a chilling Sorcerer, who help her and Rhodri in their time of peril.

This month I’m attending the Festival of Romance in King’s Langley, near Watford. It’s the UK’s first attempt at the kind of reader/writer convention that the US holds, and I’m very excited about it. Of course it’s a lot smaller than something like Romantic Times, but I think it will be choice. I’m on a panel about paranormal romance, and I’m introducing Gillian Greene, who is debuting Random House’s new Rouge imprint. If you want to know more, go here:

http://festivalofromance.co.uk/

It’s not too late to book! We are assured – there will be chocolate!

Considering that in June I had no scheduled releases for 2011, I’ve done a lot better than I thought, and written some stories I’ve absolutely adored writing. Earlier in the year I thought I’d drop the writing for a while, utterly exhausted by the work on Richard and Rose. I thought the mojo had well and truly gone. But I got back from Romantic Times and found a seam of creativity. Not historical, although that is beginning to come again, and I did write one more historical this year, but the other side, the danger and excitement side.

Someone told me that Mercury was in retrograde for much of the time, and that affects creative people. While I don’t really get on with astrology, sometimes you just have to accept that something is wrong, and maybe that’s it. I don’t know, but I do know a lot of people who’ve had problems this year.

Or maybe it’s the new market conditions. It’s changing so rapidly that people are being left behind, and other people are embracing it fully. The whole publishing world is on the move, and we won’t know what it looks like for a few years yet, I’m thinking. So I decided to watch it all and carry on writing. After all, that’s what I do!

Excerpt:

Of course, it’s “Bloody Crystal.” I love the cover. The artist, the excellent April Martinez, didn’t fall for the vampire-blood-red cliché, but gave me a cover that depicts the characters just as I saw them in my head, and a gorgeous green background. Anyway, I’d love you to buy it, as always, but if you don’t, I’ll love you anyway!

http://www.loose-id.com/Dept-57-Bloody-Crystal.aspx

There’s another excerpt on my website:

http://homepage.ntlworld.com/lynneconnolly/BloodyCrystal.html

Cerys is happy working in the bar in her home time of Llandudno, Wales. Nobody knows her secret until she meets dark, brooding Rhodri Tryfanwy. He knows her at once, because he’s like her. Vampire.

Rhodri sees the ethereal Cerys as everything he’s ever wanted. Light to his darkness, he takes her and she responds. Long nights of passion give him the hope he’d almost given up on finding. But events move too fast and Rhodri has to return to the dangerous, violent world of Department 57. His old adversary, Geoffrey Wilkinson, gives him no choice.

Thrown into a new world, Cerys is forced to leave everything she knows behind to search for him. She is Rhodri’s only chance. Without her help, he’ll be taken apart, piece by piece, and sold to people who will exploit what he is to make money and take power they’re not entitled to.

Chasing the enemy of the Department across the world, Cerys has to adapt fast to find the man whose only desire was to protect her. Without her love, he is dead. Without his love, she will want to die. Together, they can face anything.

In this excerpt, Cerys has fed on a drunk the night before, and Rhodri has taken her home and put her to bed.

Cerys rolled over and hit something solid. Something solid and warm. She came instantly awake, then wished she hadn’t. Her groan woke him up.

Slowly the memories of last night returned as he blinked and smiled at her, one hand under his cheek. He leaned up on one elbow, looking far too sexy for his own good. Or for her good, come to that. His short haircut meant he looked pretty much immaculate, even first thing in the morning. “You slept with me?”

He grinned unrepentantly. “There weren’t many other places.” He lost the grin. “Besides, I wanted to keep a close eye on you. The blood shouldn’t have affected you that much.”

“Why not?” She’d woken up with somebody else’s hangover before. It would clear soon. Already she could feel the headache lifting. A phantom hangover never lasted as long as the real thing, she assured herself, although when she moved, her stomach roiled alarmingly.

“It’ll pass soon.” That dark, soothing voice could guide her through dreams. “Close your eyes. I’ll make coffee and toast. If you have any.”

Nothing loath, she did as he commanded, for command it was, but his suggestion sounded good to her. Except for one thing. “Can you make it tea, please?”

“I can probably manage that.”

The old bedsprings sagged as he sat and got out of bed. She ventured a look. He was dragging a pair of jeans over a pair of white boxers, standing with his back to her. Probably just as well. But he had a beautiful arse, his buns tight and grabbable.

How could she be feeling like that when her stomach still rolled with the hangover? Although the headache was fading nicely.

By the time he returned with the promised tea and toast, she was feeling a whole lot better. He found a couple of cushions from the couch to prop behind her back and bolster the pillows, making her feel looked after. She hadn’t felt that way for so long. Not cosseted like this. Dave looked after her at work, running shotgun for her when customers got too rowdy. Nothing like this. He handed her the plate of toast, and their hands brushed.

Tingles sparked between them, shivering up her arm to her shoulder. She ignored them, but she didn’t ignore the attraction she felt for him. As yet she had no idea if he felt anything for her that was more than camaraderie and concern. And she wouldn’t let him see until she knew. She wasn’t that desperate.

He sat on the hard chair she usually kept flat against the wall, the twin to the one she used as a bedside table. She glanced at her watch. “I have to get to work by noon. I’m on the early shift today.”

“Does that place open all day?”

She bit into her toast and cleared her mouth before she answered him. “We open at noon and usually close at one or two a.m. Dave lets us go home early if the place clears. Saturdays we’re open later. That’s the worst night. But I can handle the rowdies.” She took another bite. “Too well, really. I have to pretend sometimes, let them think they’ve hurt me. But I’ve never had any real problems.”

“Until last night.”

“Yes. Until last night.” She chewed in silence and then reached for her tea, letting out a moan of contentment when the hot liquid hit her tonsils. She drained the mug, then stared at the bottom with disappointment. “Did you make a pot?”

“Yes.” He grinned and held out his hand for her empty mug.

This was too easy. She felt too comfortable with him. That ended when he leaned over her to put her tea on the impromptu bedside table. She smelled hot male and couldn’t remember the last time she’d been this close to one. She couldn’t help it. She had to touch.

She flattened her hand against his chest, rubbing to enjoy the feel of the hair sprinkling the tanned skin. He stilled, and his throat moved in a convulsive swallow. Then he looked at her.

Heat poured through her. Steaming, burning heat. He touched her mind with it, let her see it. “You should know if I start, I won’t stop. Don’t make me fuck a woman with a hangover.”

She wet her lips and watched his gaze follow the motion. “What hangover?” The tea and toast had taken care of most of it. Right now she wouldn’t have admitted to it, anyway. This man was the epitome of hot. Beautifully delineated features, sharp cheekbones, mobile lips, dark eyes lit with an inner flame. And the body was simply ripped. She’d been enjoying the sight of his powerful chest, framed with the broad shoulders just made for a woman to cling to.

And the casual use of the word “fuck.” She used it herself, but the way he used it made it sound like a caress, something she wanted above anything else.

“I want to hear the word,” he said.

“Yes,” she said. “I want it. I want you.”

Whatever she planned to say next, he cut off with his mouth, bending to take her in a kiss, their first. He claimed her with that kiss, touched her lips with his tongue. His arms bracketed her, and the mattress dipped as he knelt on it.

And still he kissed her. She opened for him and let all that tea-flavored magnificence in. He was so big, although he hadn’t seemed that way against the giant Dave. But he was. He climbed over her and surrounded her with his heat, his cock a hard ridge through their clothes, pushing at her, making demands she was only too ready to fulfill.

September Newsletter

News

It’s been a quiet month, considering I had my first release since March! “Shifting Heat” has gone out into the atmosphere and I’m keeping my fingers crossed for it. I really love the hero, Andros, because he was dying, and had reconciled himself to it, but then got a second lease of life when he was converted into a shape-shifting dragon. All his troubles were over, right? Oh no, because inside, he still felt like the physically weak man he was for most of his life. He can’t take that final leap. Until he meets a woman who accepts him for who he is now, not who he was then. Anyway, love to hear your take on it!

And I have another release in September! How’s that for cool? This one is from Total E-Bound, and it’s a novella, called “Temporary Spy,” part of their “Tempting Temps” collection. Hopefully, it will come out in paperback, collected with a couple of others from the series, and it’s coming out in audiobook, too.

It was a treat to write. I wrote it straight after I’d finished and polished and rewritten “Lisbon,” the last Richard and Rose book, and that was so hard to write, with all the research, and keeping the timeline straight, and the writer’s block I was in denial about at the time, that it was lovely to turn to a one-off story set in a place I know well (London) about people with different problems. It was the fizz, the dessert, that I needed to get me out of the deep funk I was in. I find that helpful when I’m faced with a block – write something else! I think it’s partly fatigue, but also other things that are going on bleeding into the writing day. And I don’t talk about it, because, like depression, it’s something that has to be endured and got through.

So Tempting Spy is my fizz book, and there’s an excerpt below for you. I’ve put the first chapter. And it’s out from Total E-Bound on the 25^th September.

Other things? I’m currently writing the second “Trust” book, which I’ll send to my editor at Carina. I loved writing the first one, and it introduced a character I really wanted to know more about, so this is his story. How could I ignore the world of the Naples gangster, once I’d uncovered it? And while writing this book, I discovered a new to me setup, which will lead me into writing another one. It seems inevitable.

Some great news from Ellora’s Cave, which was leaked last week – prices to third party sellers like Amazon are going down! Unlike other epubs, Amazon did a test study, taking a few authors and experimenting with price points (all with the cooperation of the authors). It turned out to be a great success, and so the prices after October will be comparable to the prices you’ve always been able to get on EC’s website. Although I’ve never had any trouble, I know some people have difficulties with the site, so this is great news. Lower prices might mean a drop in royalties, or it might not – we’ll have to wait and see. But I honestly think that EC still has some of the best authors out there, and they deserve to be wider read. It’s still the market leader for erotic romance, and I can’t see that changing.

Not as good news on the Samhain front, for me at least. Still no word from my editor on the Richard and Rose and Freddy front, I’m afraid. I was asked to rewrite “Lisbon” twice, and she takes 12 weeks to read each rewrite. Since the books are still uncontracted, it looks like I won’t have a new Samhain book out in 2012, as they are now scheduling for 2013. However, “Maiden Lane” is coming out in print in February, yay! While I’m Samhain’s bestseller in historical romance, that doesn’t mean my sales compare to the erotics that constantly make the Samhain top ten these days. They are a great publisher, though, and I’ve loved my time there. Still will, if I can. I’ve decided to write a standalone historical, one from a potential series I’ve been thinking about for some time, and see how it does. I also have a historical paranormal out on query, so you never know…

From time to time madness takes me and I try to write a Harlequin Presents. These books are in every bookstore, all over the world, and while the money’s not great, the promotion and publicity is invaluable. My latest effort returned to me after a read and a discussion, so I intend to rewrite it a bit, deepen it and see where I can send it. I loved writing it. It’s about a girl who loves vintage and second hand clothes.

If any of you are reviewers, drop me a line. I’d love some reviews for the new releases! There are some on the way, but I’m greedy! They are – Shifting Heat, with Temporary Spy, Bloody Crystal (a new Dept 57 book) and Learning to Trust (romantic suspense) coming up soon.

And I think that’s about it for now. If you want to know anything, if I’ve missed anything out, shout out. And as always, thanks for being here. You make what I do real. Not to mention giving me the greatest reason for sitting at my computer for 12 hours a day, making stuff up!

Excerpt:

Finlay Scott knows someone is stealing his architectural designs, so he employs an agency that specialises in weeding out industrial spies. But he doesn't know they will send Beth, a woman he had a torrid affair with years before, and has been unable to forget.

Beth sees this job as paying off an old debt, but matters get much further, much faster, and they're soon seeing how many office surfaces can take both their bodies.

Excerpt (over 18’s only, please):

Beth stretched, raising hands to the sky. “What time is it?”

Joy favoured her with a glance. “A quarter to five. The boss wants to see you at five. Chances are he’ll send you back to the agency.”

“What makes you say that?” She got it, she really did. Joy wanted Finlay. Well, as far as she was concerned, Joy was welcome to him. She was here to pay back a debt, that was all. And to see justice done in the best traditions of a superhero. Pity she wasn’t one, but she did her best to behave like a reasonable human being, unlike some people not too far away from here.

She grimaced. She had rather overdone it, screwing up the filing. Maybe if she made up for it in the next hour it would give Finlay a chance to rehire her. Not that he knew she was here. After all, she’d only started two days ago when he’d been in Rome and she was only here until she’d accomplished her task.

She stared at her computer screen. Joy had given her some standard letters to type, print and send. Her typing wasn’t perfect, but she could manage the computer formatting. She had the same program at home. So she set to it and, by five, she had half a dozen letters typed and printed out, ready for his signature. Glancing up from her screen, she gave Joy a tentative smile. “I’m sorry about the filing. I guess I was nervous.”

Joy sniffed and leaned against the copier, folding her arms across her chest. “I daresay. But you’ll have to put in some fancy talking if you want to stay here.”

“I do. Is fancy talking all that’s required?” She gave a winsome smile, and rested her arms on the sides of her chair.

Joy glared at her. “He doesn’t mix business and pleasure. Ever.”

Beth made sure Joy saw the up and down she gave her, paying special attention to that tight red skirt. “You could have fooled me.”

“It’s actually very comfortable. I wear it a lot.” I bet you do. But Beth didn’t say it aloud. The skirt showed the cleft between her buttocks. Puppies in a sack, she’d thought as she’d watched Joy sashay into Finlay’s office earlier.

Beth had actually suffered a pang of jealousy—her first for, well, two years. Nearly three. She’d worked so hard in the intervening years, she’d hardly noticed the time going by. Until, that was, she lay in her bed at night. Alone.

Joy gave her a warmer smile. “This is his favourite skirt. He never says, but I can tell. He was disappointed when I couldn’t go to Rome with him last week, but it couldn’t be helped. I think one of those letters you’re typing was thanks to the hotel? He likes to do that.” She sighed. “He wants to be sure of the room next time.”

She had noticed that. Joy had booked a one-bedroom suite. “He takes you every time?”

“Always,” Joy purred. “He wouldn’t go without me.”

Her inference was clear. Keep off! In a perverse way, Beth felt glad that Joy would even see her as a rival.

Beth gathered the papers together and tidied the edges, doing her best to ignore her trembling hands. She had to face him sooner or later. “Should I go in now, or wait until he calls for me?”

Joy grinned at her. “Go in, just knock and enter. He likes punctuality and he doesn’t like formality.”

Why did she suspect that friendly smile? Probably for good reason. But she did as Joy told her, knocked and went straight in.

Finn’s head jerked up. “Didn’t Joy tell you not to come in until…” His voice tailed off. “Fuck, oh fuck.” He sounded entirely different now, unsure and astonished.

“Where have you been? Where did you come from?”

Too late to retreat. He knew her, and nothing had changed from the last time they’d seen each other. Except that the desire between them seemed to have increased, if anything. She hadn’t thought that possible, had hoped it had died. Some hope.

Beth closed the door hastily as he got to his feet and rounded the desk, heading for her with a determination she couldn’t avoid. She took a step back, but there was nowhere to go. Her back hit the door as he reached her, and she got barely a glimpse of his eyes, hot with passion, before his mouth descended on hers.

All her good intentions melted when his arms enclosed her, all thoughts of keeping her distance disappeared. Hunger replaced reason.

With his mouth locked to hers, she knew they wouldn’t stop there, wanted more of him. His mouth worked hers, persuaded her to open to him and he took possession, eating at her as if he’d starved for a year or more. She knew because she’d felt the same way. She gripped his forearms, felt handfuls of crisp shirt fabric, and held on. Her head went back under the pressure of his, hitting the door with another thud.

He dragged his mouth away from hers, but only to stare at her, as if he couldn’t believe it. “Oh my God, you’re here, it’s really you!” With a groan, he settled his mouth on hers again. And this time he put his hands to work, gripping her waist then sliding up, bringing her top with them. He kissed down her neck to the place where her throat met her shoulders and she was toast. Lost. She breathed deep, inhaling the scent of shampoo and Boss and him. It felt like coming home.

But a home filled with turbulence. Shock reverberated through her system, but he was already replacing it with desire and swiftly escalating it to desperate need. He touched her bare skin and she shuddered, then he undid the buttons of her top and she helped him, let him draw it off her and toss it aside. His gaze stroked her with an intensity that made her shudder. As he watched, she lifted away from the door, took her hands off him and reached behind to unhook her bra.

When her breasts tumbled free, his hands were waiting to capture them. He gasped when he touched them, but she nearly drowned the sound he made with her soft moan. “I didn’t come for this.”

“But this is what you’re going to get.” His low, trembling voice increased the intimacy between them, his hot breath gusting against her skin, raising goosebumps where it touched her. He caressed her breasts, cupped the soft weights with his hands, the calluses rasping deliciously against her. She shuddered and pushed herself into him, urging him to do more.

“Come here.” In a sudden movement, he released her, grabbed her waist and pulled her even closer. His starched shirt hit her bare skin, the warmth of his body underneath tantalising her with its propinquity. She ripped at the fabric between them until it separated at the front. Then, with a sigh of relief, she touched him, slid her hands over the hard curves of his heated flesh and the tiny points of his nipples, as hard as hers were.

“Finn, oh, Finn.”