Just an observation…

Too tired to rant…this is just an observation about jealousy…I don’t understand it. A colleague of mine recently sent me a coldly polite email congratulating me on something I had done. I say coldly polite because it wasn't congratulatory. It smacked of someone who was pissed off…jealous. While it's nice to have acknowledgement, it's not necessary to me. My world still turns without the need for praise. So I have to wonder why this person felt the need to email me with a tight 'aren’t you lucky' type email. Lucky? Yep – the harder I work the luckier I get. But then, don’t we all?

I don’t understand how you can be jealous of someone you are never going to be - and what I mean by that is my experiences are not going to be yours or anyone else’s. Whatever you or I do will be because we made our own choices to do it or acted in a way for something to happen. The consequences are our own – good, bad or indifferent. Sure what I do may be similar to what another does but there is a bloody good chance neither of us a going to act in the same way or get

the same things as the other. We can wish for stuff to happen but to be jealous or to suggest someone is luckier to me is insane. I always find it odd when someone indicates they should have something they perceive I or another have for themselves.

The only time I sort of understand jealousy is in books and film - when it’s used to give the reader/viewer an insight into the characters emotions - he/she is falling in love but is insecure or scared. Or maybe used to portray the pursuit of power or greed. Passion, anger and possessiveness I understand. Jealousy to me is a dumb arsed bi-product of these and honestly when it all comes down to it you can only be yourself and being jealous of another is counter-productive. There ain’t nothing going on in my world to be jealous of.

See, told you it was not a rant…I just don’t care enough to rant over something so stupid. However, in lieu of that check out the excellent excerpts below that illustrate exactly what I mean when jealousy can be used in a book to portray emotion to a reader. And yes, it’s another click on the cover and buy moment.

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Dragon in the System by Cindy Spencer Pape - Available now at Cerridwen Press
**Amarinda note – I have read this one – it’s an excellent book

"So where does the babe come in?"

Eric flashed him a snotty look. "Her name is Lori and I'm getting to that."
He finished off the dregs of the so-called coffee and tossed his mug back onto its usual corner of his desk. Then he recounted the events of Friday and Saturday nights, leaving out very little except for his constant frustration since that first kiss. That, he assumed, David would be able to infer on his own. "So I called her Sunday and she blew me off. Then yesterday at lunch time, I saw her sitting with this Antonio Banderas look-alike," he finished glumly. "When Celia asked me out, I knew I should go, but somehow, I couldn't. I just don't want to be with Celia. I want to be with Lori."

Garvaglia laughed. "Dude, you have got it bad!"

"Shut up, jackass!"

The insult only made David laugh harder. "Oh, man and I thought this was going to be a boring semester. Boy was I wrong! This is going to be fun to watch."

Eric snorted and threw a wad of paper across the tiny space at his friend's head. "What's there to watch? She blew me off. She had lunch with some cover model. It's over."

"Man, haven't you learned yet that women are never that straightforward?"

****************************************

Babies in the Bargain by Mona Risk – coming soon to The Wild Rose Press

Holly entered the elevator. Marc followed and pushed the button for the first floor. She banged the fourth floor button with her knuckles. “If you have to fight to protect your multitude of female friends, you’ll spend your life doing nothing else.”
In the confined space, Marc’s clean, masculine scent enveloped her like a warm cloak, robbing her mental faculties of their usual alertness. She took a small breath and pressed her back against the wall of the elevator, wishing to disappear through it. Right now, she badly needed the privacy of her own room to sort out her feelings.
“Dios mio, what are you talking about?” His forehead creased, his face a mix of surprise and hurt. “What multitude of female friends?”
Even when the shadows in his eyes reminded her of his grief, the man oozed sex-appeal.
As they stepped out of the elevator, she crossed her arms to prevent him from noticing her shaking fingers. “You don’t owe me any explanations. We’re colleagues. Period.”
“Colleagues, hmm.” Huffing, he flapped his arms in frustration.
Turning her back on him, she strode toward her on-call room.
He accelerated his pace and caught up to her. “Understood. Colleagues. But colleagues can be friends, can be concerned about each other. Right?”
“Forget it.” She glanced at him and shrugged, not ready to get entangled in a definition of specific words. “Earlier today, I tried to soothe your pain. Others are entitled to do the same for you. So don’t feel obligated to reciprocate by trying to protect me.”
“Wait a minute.” Marc paused as they reached her room. “Others? You mean Jenna, right? She tried to force herself through my door. Didn’t you see me preventing her from entering my office?”
Holly bit her lip and nodded. Why was she so upset?
Good grief, she was jealous of Jenna and worried stiff about her own new bout of attraction to Marc.

Have a good, peaceful Tuesday. And Jealousy? Kick it to the curb. Isn't life complicated enough?

www.amarindajones.com
Go ahead: Live with abandon. Be outrageous at any age. What are you saving your best self for?

Risk and Peril…

Risk and Peril .......what have I done now? No, it’s not me. It’s all about Mona Risk and her new book, French Peril which is available today at Cerridwen Press – or as, always, click on the cover and you can buy it straight away. France? A Count? Romance and sex? What more could you want from a book? Miss Mona was kind enough to send me some info on it. …read on…

A few years ago, I visited the Loire Valley in France and was impressed by the magnificence of the French Chateaux. I visualized gallant aristocrats entertaining beautiful women in lavishly decorated galleries and plush gardens. Stories played in my mind. I don't write historical romances but kept thinking about the settings.

A year later, while spending Christmas with my sister, my niece enthusiastically related her summer training in a French chateau. As an American student in Architecture from Harvard University, she was offered the unique opportunity to work on the restoration of a chapel in France. When I asked jokingly, "Was the owner a haughty old man?" My niece answered: "He was a young, handsome count and the five girls in my team had a crush on him. He dated my friend."

Oh, oh. Chateau. Handsome count. Training on a historical chapel. Maybe looking for a historical statue. I had an epiphany. Here was my story premise. When I pitched it to an agent at the RWA conference, she suggested I change the plot to make it a romantic suspense. I took her suggestion to heart and upped the stakes with a missing statue and the murder of a professor.

FRENCH PERIL was born. It has been released by Cerridwen Press on June 19, 2008. It can be bought and downloaded from my website www.monarisk.com or my blog www.monarisk.blogspot.com/.

The blurb…

What could be more exciting for a young American architect than to live in a French chateau owned by a young count and to work on the restoration of a chapel in the Loire Valley? But when her professor is poisoned because he knew too much about a missing statue, Cheryl's summer job changes into a dangerous treasure hunt and Count François is faced with a difficult choice:
Are the statue and his chateau worth endangering the life of the impetuous young woman who's turned his life upside down?

French Peril - warning – adult excerpt.

"I like all of you." He cupped her breasts and seemed to weigh them in his hands. She'd never been so conscious about their size D until now. "Beautiful. Perfect." She searched for an answer, but her brain was too fuzzy, her throat too dry. His hands glided down, sculpting her body as he voiced his expert opinion. "Tiny waist, round hips. A stunning figure. And what a pair of legs."
"Oh." Her fingers froze inside his boxers as his hands wrapped around her thighs and crawled toward the apex in between. "No, your boxers first." She slid off his lap and onto the cover, and crossed her legs when his hand cradled her pubic area, forbidding her to move further away. She threw her head back, closed her eyes, and focused on the feel of his hands, the left kneading her breast, and the right one playing a mad dance in her wet folds.
"My boxers? You're right. They have to go. Like you I'm too hot in my clothes." He raised his hips. "Pull them, chérie. My hands are busy." As if she didn't know that. As if she didn't feel those expert hands with every fiber of her body.
With one shove, she pulled his boxers down while he wriggled to help. She threw them on the floor and leaned forward, contemplating his massive, throbbing penis. She curled shaky fingers around it and swallowed. Her gaze flicked to his fingers that delved a little deeper in her folds and she matched his tempo, stroking his erection until his eyes darkened and his groan echoed her moans.
He lifted her hand away from him. "Stop, chérie. Let me take care of you first." He lowered her to the bed, flipped away the bedspread and withdrew a foil packet from under her pillow. Her pillow? "But when did you-"
He clamped his mouth on hers while sheathing his long penis.
Oh well. Who cares? As long as she was in his arms. She laced her fingers around his nape and returned his kiss, wondering how she'd been living without kisses for so long-François's kisses.
But he freed her mouth and trailed his lips down her throat, nipped at the sensitive flesh and then lingered on her breast, twirling his tongue around the hardened nipple and sucking. "The other now," she ordered playfully as she raked her fingertips along his spine and cradled his buttocks, reveling in the feel of him stretched alongside her.
His lips traveled south, licked at her belly and drew a wet line to her pubic hair. His knuckles grazed the soft flesh between her thighs as he raised his head to silently question her. She shivered and her jaw slackened. His smile promised a world of pleasure. She sighed and spread her legs, inviting him. He opened her folds with his fingers and lowered his mouth against her.
She wriggled and moaned and dug her nails in his shoulder. She spread her legs wider and tilted herself up. Wanting more but… "François. Oh François." It was more than she could bear. The wild dance of his tongue inside her. The gliding of his finger in and out. The tip of his tongue pressing against her swollen clit.
"Fran…çois," She whispred, her voice husky. Her pelvic muscles flexed around his fingers. Her thighs tightened. "Please." Please stop. No don't stop. Don't….
He increased the pace of his caresses, his finger and tongue assaulting her pleasure bud. She was close to losing her mind. She was too hot. Too wet. Too…
She screamed and jerked up and shuddered.
He slowly eased away and propped himself up on the bed. He caressed her cheek and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. As she opened her eyes, she saw his smile, a tender smile she'd never seen before. "You are wonderful, ma chérie."
"And you are superb. My turn to give you pleasure."
He chuckled. "Trust me I'm more than ready. If I don't have you now, I'm going to explode."
His body sleek with perspiration, he stretched on top of her and captured her mouth. She tasted her juice and her scent in his mouth.
Oh Francois, I think I have fallen in love with you. What am I going to do now?
He didn't allow her to wallow in thoughts. He slid his penis inside her and moved slowly at first, then faster, pressing inside her burning core. The need and ache within her came back, escalating.
Was she insatiable?

Whoa! Well I want to know where this goes…

Just quickly…my new website – www.amarindajones.com is up and running. What took me so long? It’s a book in itself. Anyway, click on the link and tell me what you think.

www.amarindajones.com
Go ahead: Live with abandon. Be outrageous at any age. What are you saving your best self for?

International Women's Day....

Its International Women’s Day – no, I’m not going to get all rad fem and burn a bra and denounce men. I like men and hydraulic support is a must. International Woman’s Day is about equality. Think back to the Suffragettes who campaigned for the right to vote. Think of all the women you know who have changed the world for the better and not just because they are famous. There are still so many things that need to be changed – the barbarity of female genital mutilation, women in some countries who are punished, not their rapists, for being attacked, women who have no rights and are but chattels to their husbands and women who have no access to education, the law or proper medicine. Want to know more? Check out http://www.internationalwomensday.com/about.asp

Instead of me prattling on as usual, I asked some strong women I know to post some positive excerpts about strong women in control. Read, enjoy and click on the links to buy.

Measure of Healing – Jacqueline Roth

“What?!” Alejandro erupted. “Are you crazy, lady?” His voice roared out of him and echoed through the room, popping hard against her eardrums. The sound brought his Mama to the doorway, eyes filled with anxiety. She’d not heard Alejandro raise his voice in more years than most of the people in this house had been alive.
“Mr. Ramirez,” Brie started to explain.
“Someone he doesn’t know is going to take a traumatized child a thousand miles from home to someplace he doesn’t know?” He shook his head. “No way. Not happening. Just in case you don’t get it, lady, that kid is terrified. He’s half starved and getting weaker every hour.” Alejandro ran his hand through his hair pushing it back. “You need to leave. Just get out, I don’t know what I was thinking. A Wolf and a human. Yeah, that’s gonna be a lot of help.”
“You need to stop talking and listen,” the voice that snarled out of the young woman snapped his head back in surprise. “In case you don’t get it, that boy is getting weaker by the hour under your care. You have no idea how to handle something like this and you can’t bully your way through it.” She drew a deep breath and she stayed seated. She’d learned long ago that if you couldn’t physically intimidate, your best bet was to make the other person’s physical posturing look foolish. Brie calmed herself and continued. “I have no intention of making things worse for the child but one thing is certain, if we don’t do something we end up doing exactly that. If he doesn’t start eating regularly soon, we’ll have to sedate him and feed him intravenously or he will die.”
http://www.cerridwenpress.com/productpage.asp?ISBN=9781419912634

Curses – Cindy Spencer Pape

“I don’t like you, Sean.” Mel kept her voice surprisingly level. She tapped the pipe wrench against the palm of her hand. “And I really don’t like threats. Now whether you like it or not, this is still my property, and it’s going to remain that way. Nobody is putting up a four-story hotel and a golf course on MacRae land.”
He’d backed her into a corner of the kitchen area, but he hesitated when she lifted the wrench.
“Now.” She poked him with the wrench, pushing him backward, toward the door. “Get your fancy butt into your fancy SUV, and get the hell off my land.” She gave him the nastiest grin she could manage. “Then go tell your daddy to back the hell off. Remind him just who he’s been threatening. You really don’t want to piss me off, do you Sean?”
Sudden comprehension dawned on his sculpted features, and he backed up all the way to the door, then took one hasty step out over the threshold, but he kept his sneer in place and managed a rude little snort. “Fairy tales, Melissa. Nobody with half a brain really believes you have any magical powers.”
“But then, nobody ever accused you of having half a brain, did they Sean? Just tell your father that if either of you ever wants to have sex again in this lifetime, you’d better leave me and my property alone.” She walked forward to stand in the doorway, then leaned against the sturdy pine trim for support. She was shaking in her boots, but she couldn’t let him see it. What was the use of being called the town witch if you couldn’t use the occasional threat to defend yourself? “Because if you keep harassing me, there won’t be enough Viagra on the planet to help either of you get it up.”
http://www.thewildrosepress.com/index.php?main_page=product_info&products_id=602&zenid=80060d1da8ddfcbbfca5f4c122de68b1

To Love a Hero - Mona Risk

It's all settled, General." She placed her hand on his arm in a soothing gesture. "I know it's difficult for the Major General of Belarus to ask for help from a woman." With male chauvinism ingrained in his culture, Sergei had probably never worked with a woman as an equal. Cecile hitched her chin to hide her disappointment.
"Oh Cecile, you are not any woman. You are the Program Manager who brought hope back to two million Belarussians." A devastating smile replaced his bitter expression and banished the business conversation. He stepped closer and added, "A generous and beautiful woman."
His deep blue eyes glittered with unbearable intensity. She breathed in the scent of his aftershave and felt almost dizzy with need. A deep quiver slithered to her stomach. Her skin heated. His voice, his touch, his smell created a sensual ambiance that sent her world into a tailspin.Outside the window, snowflakes twirled in a happy dance. Cecile wished she could walk out and cool off in the snow before she totally combusted. For the life of her, she couldn't move away.
"Once the project starts, it will last for a few months," Sergei reminded her.
She nodded blankly. "Yes, I know."
"Will anyone miss you there, in Boston?" He stilled, fixing her with a strange look.
"Maybe the chemists, if they have problems."
"No, I mean…" He rubbed a finger over her hand. "You are not wearing a ring. You are not married?"
"I broke my engagement three months ago."
"You gave him back his ring?"She glanced at her bare hand and tried not to think of the horrible day Rob had stolen her promotion."Not exactly. I dropped it in the flask of nitric acid sitting on the laboratory bench."
Sergei burst out laughing. "In the acid? Hmm…excuse me. It is inappropriate on my part." He cleared his throat and stared at her with obvious interest.
http://www.cerridwenpress.com/productpage.asp?ISBN=9781419913686

Traveller's Refuge – Anny Cook

Llyon sent Hawke to find Wrenna. She came running, clay splattered all over the smock covering her meerlim. Llyon peeled her out of the smock and hoisted her onto the swinging bed with Trav and Dance. As soon as she was close enough, she wrapped her arms around Trav and Dance let go and slid off the bed.
She rocked with him while she shifted around until she was in his lap. Then wrapping her legs around him, she held him and kissed him until he quit shaking. "Shh. Its okay, Trav." While they sat rocking on the bed, Dance directed the sorting of the stuff.
"I'm crazy!" Traveller declared angrily. "I can't bond with you, Wrenna! Who knows what crazy thing I might do to you or our children?"
She hugged him harder and shook her head. "You're not getting away from me that easily, Trav. You're my man. The father of my children. My mate. I won't let you go."
"Don't you understand? I don't even remember packing this stuff!" He shook her gently. "What else have I done?"
"Whatever else you've done doesn't matter, Trav. It's finished. Our lives start from now on."
http://www.ellorascave.com/productpage.asp?ISBN=9781419910593


Thief of Mine - by the Jones girl

“Why am I sick?” Stella answered back into the phone. Honest to God her manager was anal. It was seven twenty in the morning. The fact that she was doing the right thing calling in, allowing plenty of time for her manager to run around like a wet hen looking for a replacement for her, should be enough. Why did he have to demand an explanation? Sick was sick, it needed no further discussion. How hard could it be for someone else to do her job? It was not like you had to be a genius to file, photocopy and maintain spreadsheets all day. “I prefer not to discuss it over the phone.” Wanker. As he continued dribbling on with the whiny questions, Stella decided she had listened to him long enough. “Fine. I had wild passionate sex with a thief and it was so damn good that I can barely walk. Is that a good enough reason? If I’m not having earth shattering sex with the thief again tomorrow then I’ll be in.” She hung the phone up. Stella looked up to see Kit’s amused gaze her. “I hate that frigging job and now I have a reason to leave.”
“Before you get fired.” Kit had never heard any one use sex as an excuse. It was certainly different. But then, so was Stella Rowallan.
“Something like that.” Stella knew there was every likelihood that she was going get the sack but she would cross that bridge and blow it up behind her if and when that happened.
http://www.ellorascave.com/productpage.asp?ISBN=9781419911064

See? There are plenty of good books out there to buy.

Remember to take a squiz at www.annycook.blogspot.com and www.kkirch.blogspot.com to see what mischief Anny and Kelly are up to. I'll be back tomorrow with the usual amazingness of nothing to share with you

www.freewebs.com/amarindajones/
Go ahead: Live with abandon. Be outrageous at any age. What are you saving your best self for?

Pain in the bum….

Are you aware that writers live life constantly on the edge? They are under great threat of debilitating medical conditions....

Numb bum syndrome – this happens when you have spent extended hours sitting in the one place pounding out a story on the keyboard. You feel nothing in your rear end.

Danger – Fat settles in one place and instead of having a rounded backside, you have a flat backside.

Cure – Chocolate and or alcohol to rearrange the fat globules – though if drinking a dry wine then may I suggest switch to chips.

Bum = fleshy bit you sit on

Dead foot Syndrome – you feel a tingling in your foot that becomes a numbness. What does that mean? No, you are not going to win the lotto or it’s going to snow. It means you have been stationary for too bloody long and you have to stand up and do the Mexican hat dance to get your foot working again.

Danger – stand up too quickly and you fall down

Cure – don’t stand up too quickly and you won’t fall down. Medicinal chocolate can be applied as there is calcium in it and it helps your bones and dancing burns up calories.

Limp wrist syndrome – this occurs due to incessant pounding away at the keyboard trying to finish writing that last 1000 words, of your best story ever, before you go to bed.

Danger – People may think your wrist hanging limply by your side means you are weak and they may pick a fight with you.

Cure – Carry a notebook so you can immediately write down all the action of the fight to use in another book.

Cheese lipstick syndrome – this is an eating disorder when you have trouble finding your mouth when eating things like Cheetos because you are concentrating on the keyboard and screen and not on making sure said Cheeto goes straight into your mouth without hitting your lips or chin first.

Danger – going out into public in search of more Cheetos or Twisties (Aussie) and people making fun of your orange lips. Please note especially bad, it you are still wearing your pj’s.

Cure – switch to chips or popcorn as they leave no visible trace of snack food debauchery. I would not recommend chocolate in this instance as it has the potential to smear and no milk drinking unless you want a moustache.


Zombie eyes syndrome – is the glazed look writers get when they have spent hours in front to the computer. It is a frightening and vacant stare that can make grown men shiver.

Danger – people may try to pour salt in your mouth and sew up your lips to rid themselves of a zombie

Cure – wear sunglasses around normal people. You are only safe amongst other writers.


Greta Garbo syndrome – wanting to be alone to write and ignoring the phone, the doorbell, your friends, your family, whatever it was you were cooking the stove and is now on fire all because of too much writing.

Danger – becoming an anti-social git or enjoying the tag ‘shut-in’ so much you have t-shirts made advertising the fact so you don’t have to explain yourself.

Cure – try and pretend you care as much as you care about getting X together with Y without A trying to kill them from your book. If that fails, learn to nod and smile vaguely saying ‘a-ha' a lot while you type while.

Anny and Kelly – what are they up to you ask? My understanding is that Anny planned to climb on her apartment roof and howl at the moon while Kelly was thinking of climbing on her roof and mooning the Howells next door. I could be wrong of course but check out www.annycook.blogspot.com and www.kkirch.blogspot.com.

May I suggest you go to http://sandracox.blogspot.com/ to see what your choice of dessert says about you? Then to http://www.mjdaniels.blogspot.com/ as it’s the last days of Molly’s contest as well as Anny’s on www.annycook.com – and Ms Rebel has a contest as well on http://vampsmut.blogspot.com/ - how can you lose? And just when you think the excitement ends there go and check out the blog rookie Mona on http://monarisk.blogspot.com/ - seek, read, win and buy. It’s all out there you just have to look.

www.freewebs.com/amarindajones/
Go ahead: Live with abandon. Be outrageous at any age. What are you saving your best self for?

Risky business but what the hell...

Farewell job 27...

Okay, I had job 27 and after a day and a half I knew that it sucked. How? It just did. It felt wrong, wrong and wrong. I’ll write about it in the next book after the one I am finishing. Anyway, I scarpered out of that one Wednesday and manipulated a few things and after some frigging, tense moments I shot straight into 28 today. I start tomorrow. I believe this is one I will stick at for a while. How longs a while in Amarinda job speak? About a year. Ethel, best friend, is pissed off as I have officially had more jobs than her now. Ha! Eat my dust Ethel. Am I a pain in the bum when it comes to jobs? Oh hell yeah but someone has to be. It’s all about taking risks and wanting more. The bonuses in this job – amongst the usual stuff – I get to renew my First Aid certificate at their expense and – wait for it – I can if I want get a forklift license. Why do I want that? You never know when it will come in handy.

Walker etiquette

Those of you who drag your arse out early in the morning to walk will know that there is a certain strange etiquette when it comes to morning walks. Or haven’t you noticed? I have.

Walkers – are unfashionable, They are usually wearing the first thing they saw when they woke up. Walkers pass each other and say “Good morning” because it’s frigging early and it’s quiet and it’s basically rude, to my mind, not to acknowledge another human being. I find that people in my own age group and upwards will speak to you. The older blokes, out with their wives are usually wags, and always try to be witty while their wives just rolls their eyes. All harmless fun.

Ipoders – the Paris Hiltons of neighbourhood exercise – trendy exercise clothes and immaculate hair. Ipoders make no acknowledgement of any greeting at all. Why? Because they have an Ipod intravenously connected to them and it’s sucking all the life out of their bodies as music blasts their brains. I suspect they can’t think and do at the same time. I don’t understand the concept of walking or going on public transport with an Ipod or similar. How can you possibly be aware of anything around you? And why the hell do you have to have it on so loud that everyone can hear what crap music you are playing? Can’t you just see 30-40 years from now all these deaf once ‘cool’ people with hearing aids?

The joggers – no crap sneakers for this sweaty, muscular individual. They never say hello back to a walker. Why? I think it’s because they have the power to ‘run like the wind’ and they are above the lowly schlep walker who is generally out trying to burn off evil calories so they can intake more. Joggers, I’d imagine, take exercise seriously and treat their bodies like temples. Me too. Mine’s just had the ceiling fall in, the stonework has taken a kicking and the statues are on a lean but structurally I’m still standing.

Dog walkers – always friendly and they always instantly drag their dogs off the path. Very courteous. I believe it’s so their dog is not tempted to take a bite of you - and oh yeah, it happens. I carry a big stick to ward off various attacks – canine and human. I haven’t had to use it yet. There has been a molester over my side of town. If he tries it on me I swear it will not go well for him. Touch me without permission? I think not.

The newspaper thrower – okay – not a walker but he always beeps his horn and smiles when he sees me trudging up a hill as he effortlessly drives by in his car. Smart arse. I think it’s quite an art to throw a newspaper from a car as you drive one handed. Only once have I ever had to shinny up in a tree to get it.

The startled neighbour – you know, the one that wanders outside in their underwear because it’s early and who would be up to see them? A walker see everything. Beware the walker.

It’s G’day USA in the US at the moment. All the best from Oz to you. See? We brought you Hugh Jackman. Aren't you glad we did? 'Ever seen him in the movie Paperback Hero? Excellent romance about a man that writes romance novels. Anyway check out http://www.australia-week.com/.

Released today at Cerridwen Press....

- To Love A Hero – Mona Risk (scroll to yesterday’s blog for details) or go to http://www.cerridwenpress.com/index.asp

And.....Measure of Healing - Jacquéline Roth

The blurb

Alejandro Ramirez’s Were-Cougar mother drove him out after his first transformation at the age of fifteen leaving him to seek out his human father and find the family his human side craved but that his animal side can never embrace. Now a man, he finds himself responsible for a traumatized Were-Cougar child. When he turns to the Weres for help, they send him to a human. Dr. Gabriela St. Jerome knows of the Cougars and hates them with every fiber of her being. But now she must swallow that hatred to work with Alejandro to help a Were child who has been thrown into transformation far too early by the horrific death of his mother. As they are forced together in the remote woods of the North Georgia Mountains, both find their mutual attraction overwhelming. But if Brie gives into this man and her own passions, it will cost her dearly. It will cost her her life.

The excerpt

Working together they carried the crate into the small bedroom in the back of the house. Alejandro noticed the Spartan décor. The bed was stripped to the mattress and a couple of blankets were stacked on it. The room had a bedside table and rather than a dresser, a shelving unit. All of it bare. There was one picture, its plastic frame affixed to the wall by screws at all four corners. A small clearing in the Everglades met his eye. Brie opened the door to the crate.
“I cleared everything out of here when I came to get the 4Runner,” she responded to the question he didn’t ask.
“Will it take long to clear out the closet?” Alejandro leaned against the wall of the room. Brie watched him shift slightly against the wall as if he were stiff and was stretching. If he was doing what she thought he was doing she’d slap him.
“I’m not clearing the closet,” she walked over and pulled on the door. The latch was tight.
Alejandro frowned. “You’re not going to give him a place to hide are you?”
“No,” she turned to face him. “We’ll leave the crate with the blanket for a day or two then I’m taking it out as well.”
He opened his mouth to protest but stopped when she glared pointedly at him. “You said you wouldn’t interfere in this.”
“You’re sure about this? That this is the right thing?” He couldn’t help it. His mind kept telling him how stupid it was to trust a human to know what was right.
It was on the tip of her tongue to tell him if he didn’t trust her, she could have him and the boy back on the plane in a matter of hours or just open the back door and toss them both out. Instead she forced herself to see past his skepticism and his suspicion. She counted to ten, twice. She told herself he was worried about Tomás and that that was to his credit.
“I’m sure,” she said through tight lips. “He’ll be better if he wakes up alone,” she motioned to the door.
Alejandro frowned at her again. “Alone in a strange place?”
“Not entirely strange. The scents will not be threatening. He will stay in the crate most of tonight and tomorrow, unless I miss my guess.” She looked pointedly at the man, “And I never miss my guess.
“Then he’ll start exploring the room. Something he’ll feel freer to do if there is no one around.” She walked out of the room and he followed, closing the door behind him.
“What if he hurts himself? You’re just going to leave him in there for the next few hours unsupervised, unmonitored?” This was not right. He was a child, cat form or no. You didn’t leave a child unattended for that long. Especially one you had drugged.
“No, I’m not. That’s where you come in.” She’d been thinking about this on the drive in. If she was stuck with him, he might as well be useful.
Alejandro relaxed. Was she being deliberately obtuse? “You want me to stay with him.” He stated, finally understanding. The woman should have just said so.
“No.” She met his eye unflinchingly. “You are not to step foot in that room until I say you can. Those are the terms, Cougar. Take them or go.”
When he didn’t answer but stared at her, eyes blazing, she snorted angrily, “Look, do we really have to do this crap or is there enough human in you to realize that we’re talking about a living child and not a deer carcass that you’re protecting? Because, Cougar, you are either going to help or stay out of my way.”
She didn’t even blink when the low growl came from his throat. “No one who didn’t birth me or raise me ever talks to me like that, lady. And even they don’t talk to me like that any more.”
“Oooh,” she rolled her eyes. “Big scary Cougar-man is angry.” She stood tall and actually stepped closer to him. “See me tremble.”
She was either the bravest human he’d ever known or the most foolish. His brothers and sisters backed off before they pushed him too far. Even his father seemed to know how far to press him.
“Don’t push me, lady.” He stepped up to her and glared down into her face. Even as he did it, he knew she wouldn’t be intimidated.
“Why? What are you going to do about it?” she smirked at him. A little more, she thought, just a little more and we’ll know.
“Are you stupid?” he moved closer, forcing her to back into the hall wall to avoid making contact with him. He braced his hands on the surface to either side of her head. “Little doctor I could rip your throat out before you could even scream.”
“I’d like to see you try it.” She sneered. Alejandro narrowed his gaze and watched her. She was amazing. She wasn’t afraid of his threats. His proximity bothered her. Hell, it bothered him. But he smelled no fear, no hesitation in her. If he wasn’t so angry he’d damn well be impressed.
“As tempted as I am,” he stepped back and turned away from her. “I won’t.”
There it was. What she wanted to know. “Why? How do I know you won’t get pissed off later and kill me in my sleep?”
“Because I said I wouldn’t,” the words came out loud but he stopped them from becoming a full yell. “On the plane I told you I wouldn’t hurt you.”
“And because you never have,” she said softly.
The change in her tone turned him around. Her face was calm and emotionless but her eyes held a shrewd look. Her voice, when she spoke was almost gentle and it ran down his spine as if it physically stroked him. “You’ve never attacked anyone, have you?”
“I’ve had my share of fights and I’ve got the scars to prove it.” He watched the startling blue eyes watch him.
“But you’ve never attacked. You’ve defended yourself but you’ve never attacked.” She said the words as if she knew them to be absolutely true. With humans that was to be expected. But she could feel it in him. He’d never even attacked another Cougar, never challenged another male.
“What does that matter?”
“It matters a great deal,” Brie smiled inwardly. She didn’t trust him. Trusting a Cougar got you dead, or worse. But she didn’t have to sleep with a gun under her pillow. When the time came that he hurt her it would be because he had no choice or didn’t understand the consequences of his actions. He might be the cause of her death but she now believed he wouldn’t be the instrument of it. Then again maybe that’s why he’s here, she thought. It wasn’t the first time this had occurred to her. Maybe he’s a part of it or maybe he’s just an innocent pawn. She was wondering more and more if the whole thing weren’t a set up. Wondering if the Cougars hadn’t gotten tired of waiting. His presence here would give them all the impetus they needed to finish what they started all those years ago.

Wander on over to www.annycook.blogspot.com and check out what the ever zenful Anny has to say. Kelly – aka Grasshopper – has her take on the blog serial on www.kkirch.blogspot.com.

www.freewebs.com/amarindajones/

Go ahead: Live with abandon. Be outrageous at any age. What are you saving your best self for?

The Wednesday Interview

Tomorrow January 17 To Love A Hero by Mona Risk is released at Cerridwen Press. I have been lucky enough to have had a sneak peak of this book and I can tell you it is excellent. You will want to snap it up. Mona was gracious enough to stop by and answer some deep, meaningful questions…

The Interview

What star sign are you? Name one fabulous characteristic of this sign.

I am a Capricorn. Capricornians are hardworking, responsible, persevering, and cautious to the extreme. They are capable of persisting for as long as is necessary to accomplish a goal they have set for themselves. Absolutely true for me. For four years, I edited and revised my first book To Love A Hero. I would have continued if Cerridwen Press hasn’t offered a contract. Capricornians are also confident, strong willed and calm. Huh? I wish…I wish…

2. On your wedding day the man you have secretly lusted after turns up as one of the guests and declares he loves you. What do you do?

I did invite my first boyfriend to my wedding. A guardian angel made sure I had the wrong address on the envelope and I never noticed he didn’t show up. Seriously. I lusted after my fiancé for two years before he proposed (at the foot of the Great Pyramid of Cairo) and I didn’t want anything disturbing my happiness. Now you are giving me a good plot for my next story: The ex-boyfriend showing at the heroine’s wedding and she eloping with him. Hmm, I like it. For my heroine, of course.

3 You get the call – “We want to make your book into a film. We’ll give you $10,000 for the rights." Are they kidding? Just how much is your writing worth and do you settle for less?

Oh my God. Yes, yes. Make my book into a movie. I’ll pay you to do that, especially if you choose George Clooney to play my General Sergei and Kate Hudson to play Dr. Cecil Lornier, the pretty chemist. Of my God, my book, TO LOVE A HERO, has been playing in my head like a movie for so long. Now $10,000? Once the contract is decided, maybe we can negotiate again.

4. The UN needs your help to make peace a reality. What is the first thing you would do?

Make a list of the things I have to do and the people I have to contact. And then close my eyes and say a prayer to succeed.

5. Do you think the heroine in your book is like you and if so why?

Physically, no. I used a very pretty colleague for model. But I gave her my education, tastes, opinions and drive, and through her I again lived my fantastic trips to Belarus. We were both career oriented women sent on assignment to a country we didn’t know anything about. We met handsome officers, struggled with male chauvinistic environment and successfully accomplished our missions. I even threw my heroine in some of the situations I faced. BUT when Cecile literally fell in the arms of General Sergei, every moment turned into a passionate adventure, and her whole business trip culminated into a sizzling romance.

6. What do your friends think of your writing?

My critique partners like my voice, the fast pace of the story and the emotional conflict. Those who read my manuscript, TO LOVE A HERO, whether to judge it in contests, critique or mentor it, loved the Russian setting, the clash of two very different cultures, the alpha character of Sergei, the strong career-oriented Cecile who hid her inner vulnerability and found herself trapped between the rational dictates of her mind and the passionate impulses of her heart and body. TO LOVE A HERO won first place in the FTHRW Wallflower First Kiss contest.

7. How do people find out more about Mona Risk?

Please, visit my website http://www.monarisk.com/;
drop by my shared blog, http://pinkfuzzyslipperwriters.blogspot.com/
and on January 17, 2008 stop by http://www.cerridwenpress.com/ and order my new book TO LOVE A HERO.

To Love A Hero - the blurb -

An American chemist, on an official mission to Belarus, finds more chemistry than she bargains for, and the Major General now has more on his mind than nuclear pollution. Our heroine must choose, whether to betray the general’s trust, or abandon him to the evil plot of a rival determined to destroy his career.

The excerpt -

"Welcome to Minsk International Airport," the loud speaker announced as the aircraft bounced on the runway before coming to a halt.

Cecile Lornier rubbed her ringless finger, her spirit buoyant with triumph. "Belarus, here I come. Finally," she whispered, her nose pressed against the plane window for a first look at the remote little country, located south of Russia. Not much to see. But the gloomy sight of gray sky, barren trees and drizzling rain couldn't dim the joy that exploded in her heart. After a twelve-hour flight, she'd made it to Minsk. In spite of her ex-fiancé's dirty dealing. For the millionth time, she cursed Rob Spenser, the worthless creep who'd snatched her promotion and almost foiled her first international assignment.

With a sigh of relief, she hung her purse on her arm and collected her hand luggage to exit the plane. Dragging her carry-on suitcases, she proceeded up the bumpy ramp of the jetway boarding bridge.

A group of people clustered in front of a sign affixed on the sidewall. Russian or Belarussian? Might as well be Chinese as far as I'm concerned. Unable to decipher the foreign script, Cecile shrugged and followed the line of passengers through the arrival gate, toward an escalator.As if this rickety machine could be called a mechanical escalator.

The uneven steps jolted with a grinding noise, bouncing and shuddering downward. Cecile scanned the area for an elevator or stairway. There were none in sight. Was she expected to negotiate this crooked roller coaster with her luggage in hand? Apparently, yes. The passengers were carefully holding the railing, men helping their female companions and children as they went down. She eyed the rattletrap contraption. Her first taste of Belarussian obsolete technology. This was exactly why her company had been chosen to help modernize the local environmental laboratory.

A military officer dressed in khaki passed her. Cecile's gaze fixed on his large back and decorated epaulets. He was tall, solid. A brick wall of a man. The wobbly escalator didn't seem to bother him but then he didn't have two suitcases hindering his movements.

Cecile bit her lip, imagining the sneer on Rob's face if he could see her now, hesitating so long in front of the first step of her mission. Literally the very first step. She shifted her two carry-ons to her left hand and followed the officer onto the jerking stairway, hoping for the best. Wishful thinking. Her short heel caught between the steps of the damned escalator. Gripping the railing for dear life, she let her luggage slip out of her hand as she pitched forward.

"Welcome to Minsk…" the airport speaker roared in broken English.

A sturdy back blocked her fall. The officer turned and circled her waist with brawny arms, welding her to his rock-hard frame. She stopped moving, stopped thinking, stopped breathing, until the officer lowered her to stable ground as they reached the end of the escalator.

Her head still pillowed against the muscular chest, she took a breath, inhaling the scent of soap and spicy cologne. She was alive all right and oddly secure in this stranger's arms.

He said something in his native language. She tilted her head back. Her gaze collided with deep -blue eyes shadowed by long, black lashes. Still floating in a peculiar haze, Cecile squirmed to free herself. She gasped for air to clear her head and squeaked, "I'm sorry."

He stared at her, a glint of interest under the scowling eyebrows. "Americanka?" His baritone voice echoed against the metallic escalator's crunch. "Here, let me help you."

**Now, I would normally say 'Click on the cover to buy the book'. You can still click and go to Mona's website and take a squiz. Or better still, go to your diary, calendar or pop up email reminder and mark down "Buy To Love A Hero tomorrow."

5 Reasons to buy –

- Everyone loves a hero
- The book is set in an exotic location
- The author writes from experience and you can't beat that
- The romance is hot and sweet and it will make you feel good
- Because you deserve a great book to relax with. Go on, treat yourself.

Remember to wander over to www.annycook.blogspot for Anny's take on the blog serial and then to www.kkirch.blogspot.com to see what Kelly is spruiking on today.

www.freewebs.com/amarindajones/

Go ahead: Live with abandon. Be outrageous at any age. What are you saving your best self for?