Sunday once more...

Sex…what’s it all about in romance writing? Is it all that central to the plot when it comes to the relationship between the characters? I think we can all agree that the romance between the characters has to be the most important thing. If these are not people that you want to see get together then all the most imaginative, swinging from chandelier sex in the world is not going to make it happen. You have to believe they love each other even through she swears she can’t stand him or they are in peril as they fight the bad guy.

So, how much sex is too much sex? I have no idea. It depends on your own personal moral code. Some people consider any sex in a romance book pornographic while others like to read about the characters falling into bed - or wherever they have sex – together. I personally believe it depends on the style of writing. For example, in Honeysuckle author Anny Cook writes eye-popping sex. To me it’s funny, crazy and hot and it fits totally in with the story. While in Time For Love, author Kelly Kirch allows us a brief

glimpse of what is going to happen before she shuts the door on the characters moment together. That makes me want to read more as I want to know what the characters think the next day. In my own books, I try and write sex that is crazy, off-the wall and real. I personally don’t believe in writing soap opera perfect sex where the hero sweeps the perfectly formed heroine into his arms and over to the bed, where rose petals have been scattered and subtle candlelight highlights her porcelain skin. If you love that, then that’s great and I respect that. I just don’t believe sex is ever that perfect. Things happen that make you laugh.

So, what do you think? How much sex is too much sex? Do you cringe when you read it or do you smile and think I must try that out later tonight? Do you want the full blown fantasy of soap opera style sex or do you want real sex in your books? Feel free to comment.

Changing the subject completely…


I am completely pathetic at checking television guides as I don’t watch much television other then certain set programs. But today was different. Why? Because I knew the new series of Robin Hood was coming back to television. Why Robin Hood? It’s very historical. It marks a time in English history when the people were oppressed by cruel, greedy tyrants. Yes, I am a student of history. Okay and maybe, I really, really like to watch Richard Armitage who plays Sir Guy of Gisborne. Yes, it’s true, Sir Guy and Tim Tams are my weaknesses. I’ll admit I am quite pathetic over that man but I know I am not alone. There is a whole Armitage Army out there. So tonight I answer no phones or doorbells. I will be gazing wistfully at the dark and deadly sexy Sir Guy.

A big hello to fellow Steve Seagal aficionado Jane…the lucky woman got to watch a Steven marathon today. See? He really can save the world. Jane and I know the power of Steven.

I heard on the radio this morning that Aussies are more interested in saving money when they go to do the grocery shopping than worrying about the way something is packaged. Well duh. I totally understand what the environmentalists are saying. I get that they want less waste and therefore less impact on the environment but Mr, Mrs or Ms Citizen also has to think about their budget. It cannot be a shock that people will buy cheaper stuff in order to get by in life as opposed to analysing the packaging and buying more expensive stuff. That’s just the way life is. I also find the debate over plastic bags at supermarkets interesting. Yes, I have cloth bags that I use when I go shopping. I recycle and I compost stuff. What I don’t understand is if we get rid of plastic bags what do we put our rubbish in? One genius suggested
buying plastic bags to use for rubbish. Now, I ask you, doesn’t that defeat the purpose of less plastic bags if we go out and buy more to stop using the ones we shouldn’t be using now? Why manufacture more when they are the problem? I agree we are screwing up the planet but really unless someone can come up with a viable solution and not add to the problem shouldn’t we just continue to try to do our best and be careful?

Just quickly, I read the biggest load of racist crap on another blog today. Why would anyone print such rubbish for all to see? I know it takes all kinds to populate the world but you have to wonder what the grand plan was to have these idiots on the planet.

So, from sex to Robin Hood to saving the environment to idiots…that was my Sunday. Go check out Anny – www.annycook.blogspot.com and Kelly on www.kkirch.blogspot.com to see what they are thinking. I’m sure it will be memorable.

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

Shameless Plug Friday….

Knock Three Times – the cover – isn’t it purty? I love it…ok, yes, I love him. Thanks Ellora’s Cave Cover Gods, I lay Tim Tams at your feet in worship.

The blurb – not official so don’t commit it to memory

In a case of mistaken identity, Montgomery French thinks security expert Ballantyne Teague is the local bad boy. He turns her boring life upside down and she likes it.

Ballantyne has every intention of confessing the truth to Montie when the time is right. He has two objectives. The first is to make Montie fall hopelessly in love with him. The second is to catch the real burglar Montie thinks he is.

But Ballantyne is not the only one caught up in Montie’s life. Her ex-boyfriend has a secret that will shock her and a real bad boy lusts after her for revenge.

So…

What do you reckon makes a good writer? I just finished reading three books – three different authors, genres and styles. All three were excellent but they couldn’t have been more different. So what is it about one writer that makes them stand out from another? Is it their style or their voice? Have the slotted neatly into a niche market? Do you think it’s all to do with heart and passion? Are they a good observer who is able to record the times so people can smile and say ‘yes, that happened to me.’ Is it controversy that makes someone recognized or is it the ability to write thigh sweating sex? I’m not really sure. I read books and I think there is no way I could ever write as good as that - or my god, that was a boring book. What is it that touches one reader deeply but turns another cold?

Romance writing is hard. You have to get it right as you can’t just put crap out there as readers deserve better. Love and romance is a fundamental part of who we are as human beings. People want love or to be in love. They know in their mind how love should be or how it should read. Do readers determine who is a good or bad writer then? Maybe but every reader has a different opinion on what’s good or bad so who's right or wrong? Is it editors and publishers that determine quality? To a large degree yes because they know what the market is but then they’re individuals too that have values, likes and dislikes. Think of all the great writers that never get published.

Why am I rabbiting on about this? Because people’s opinions – good, bad or ugly interest me. So, go ahead give an opinion…what makes a good writer? Or are you an expert on what makes a bad writer? You can respond anonymously if you like. There are no rules on this blog.


Shameless plugging…because I can…

Time For Love by Kelly Kirch (Cerridwen Press) – at the end of this book I went ‘awww, that’s so sweet’ – yes completely unlike me but good romance books give me that reaction. Time For Love is true romance with a time travel twist. It’s an excellent story about wanting to be with someone and knowing that maybe it can never be.

Silverhills – by Sandra Cox (Cerridwen Press) – I finished this book and I thought ‘I wish I could write like that.’ This is rollicking adventure with two strong people who need each other but they’re not about to admit that. I flat out loved it – I can see it as a mini series.

Honeysuckle – by Anny Cook (Ellora's Cave) – I was alternatively laughing and gobsmacked throughout this book. The characters are wild, the dialogue is priceless and the sex was eye opening. Yep it’s gobsmackable...my new word.

Click on any of these covers to buy these books. You will not be disappointed.

I will leave you with an excerpt from Anny’s book - guaranteed to give you the thigh sweats but before I do – two bits of general business

1. Tomorrow, Friday, between 7 – 10pm on http://groups.yahoo.com/group/ellorascavechat/ authors from Ellora’s Cave and Cerridwen Press will be talking about their books. Please come and stick your head in and say hello or whatever you like - we’ll talk about anything so don’t be shy to have an opinion.

2. Check out Anny on www.annycook.blogspot.com and Kelly on www.kirch.blogspot.com to be dazzled, amused and shocked...they're never boring

Honeysuckle by Anny Cook – excerpt – warning adult excerpt.

When they arrived at last at the Flying Fuck Inn, they were too tired to care about eating the cold skimpy meal, though Florian warned them that the early start the next morning would probably preclude more than a hasty breakfast. Daffodil, still mourning for Raulf and Chrysanthemum, irritated and impatient with her younger sister’s never ending tears tromped up the narrow stairs to the room they shared and crawled into the cold lumpy bed after hasty, sketchy sponge baths.
Honeysuckle chose to sacrifice a little sleep and take a bath. The bathroom was freezing with gray-green mold in the corners but the water was hot and plentiful. She scrubbed out the tub and filled it with steaming water before scanning the skimpy selection of soaps, salts, and oils the inn provided. Finally making her choice she dropped in most of a jar of rose scented bath salts and climbed in. In five ecstatic minutes she was as limp as a noodle and whimpering with relief as her stiff muscles slowly relaxed from riding all day on a jerky vibrating power bike.
Once the girls were settled, Florian stumbled down the steep stairs to the tap room for a comforting flagon or two of ale to bury his growing suspicions that he was in far more trouble that he had anticipated. The girls were not going to fit into his plans as neatly as he hoped. Of course, he hadn’t seen his girls since he had shaken the dust of his crumbling estate from his aching feet and traveled to the capitol at Came-a-lot seeking work. As he sat swigging his ale he realized that the last time he’d seen the girls Daffodil had only been six. And the last memory he had of Honeysuckle was her standing forlornly in the driveway, crying as if her heart was broken while he walked away. Edgily, he pushed that uncomfortable memory away and gulped another healthy swallow.
Preoccupied with dark plans of how best to rid himself of the responsibility of three marriageable daughters, he was so busy drowning his sorrows that he failed to notice the two distinctive men lounging in a dimly lit corner over a desultory game of cards. If he had not been so distracted by his frantic scramble to rescue his ruined plans, things might have turned out differently.
As Florian perched on the high stool at the bar drinking, the young men speculated about the women upstairs who had arrived with him. As members of the royal family, they instantly recognized Florian when he shoved the wide inn door open and entered, trailed by the three weary young women. Most of the royal household was aware of Florian’s intentions to arrange marriages for his daughters as soon as possible so the young men studied the girls with idle interest. They instantly rejected the tall dark haired one who had whipped out her horn-rimmed spectacles to consult the heavy book she carried. Nor did the young blonde with the endless supply of tears attract them. But the goddess with the flaming red-gold hair brought their cocks to immediate rigid attention.
That was rare enough that they took a second—and then a third—look. She was breathtaking. From the time they were old enough to understand the differences between women and men, their futures as husbands of a shared wife was simply something they accepted. Finding her had proved to be an entirely different matter. But finally what their bodies and minds were screaming in unison told them she was the one.
Mine! Mine! Mine!
She was the one they determined to claim for their own. She was the one who would bear their children. Eventually they finished their own drinks and silently stalked up the narrow stairs in search of the curvy little lady who moved like sin and gave them insistent uncomfortable hard-ons that bulged the fronts of their tight dark zipsuits.
On the second floor, they found themselves facing six blank doors with no hint of their goddess’s location. Short of knocking on each door they saw no easy way to find their lady. Then they heard feminine whimpering and groaning behind door number five. With a sharp nod at each other, they softly paced down the hall and tried the door, pleased to discover that she had neglected to lock it in her rush to take her bath.
Dick eased the door open far enough for them to peek inside and to their delight they found their fiery haired nymph moaning and sighing through a bout of bathtub pleasure. It seemed to them that it would be rude to leave her lonely and unfulfilled when they were so ready and available so they quietly went inside to join her, shutting and silently locking the door securely behind them.
With her eyes squeezed shut, Honeysuckle squirmed in frustration in the slippery tub. She didn’t have enough fingers to touch all the places she needed to be touched and her toys were packed away in her bag in the bedroom. She had two fingers stuffed in her slick pussy while her thumb slithered around her clit but try as she might she couldn’t quite reach the sensitive little entrance to her ass. With her other hand she frantically strummed and pinched her tight nipples. As another little moan escaped, a hard warm male body with an exceedingly rigid cock slid into the tub between her legs. She let out a shriek which was cut off abruptly by a firm set of lips covering her mouth and a possessive tongue filling her mouth.
Behind her, another hard body gently shifted her forward and slipped into the tub, dragging his equally stiff cock down her back. Her eyes flew open and she stared into the intent dark glittering eyes of the man exploring her mouth with devastating thoroughness. Whoa, was he a god or what? Sharp high cheekbones and slightly tilted almond shaped eyes gave him a decidedly exotic look. A wealth of silky black hair tumbled down past his wide shoulders and smooth dusky cinnamon skin covered a muscled chest and strong arms.
With a last lingering taste, he sat back on his heels, holding her glance with compelling eyes as his hand slipped down over her mound gently nudging her fingers away from the red-gold curls until he found her swollen pussy. Two thick fingers plunged inside, firm and deep.
Her head fell back on the warm shoulder of the man behind her and she moaned as her pussy clutched those hard fingers steadily moving in and out. The man behind her embraced her, cupping her breasts in his huge hands. He firmly pinched her nipples between his long fingers and tugged rhythmically in time to the fingers working her pussy. With a gasp and a short cry, her climax arrived as a searing sharp wave. Her lovers rode it out with her until at last she relaxed in a slack bundle of satisfied woman.
Her breasts still trembling with her struggle for air she opened her eyes and demanded, “Who are you? And why are you in my bath?”
The man in front of her smiled tenderly as he slid his hand beneath her hips and pulled her forward until his thick cock was seated at the entrance of her still pulsing pussy. “I am Peter,” he replied as he thrust his cock inside her, “and he is my brother, Dick. We are here to claim you as our woman.”
Instinctively, she tried to wriggle away but he held her close in his strong arms, filling her until she didn’t know where he ended and she began as he whispered close to her ear, “You’re exactly the woman we’ve been searching for our entire lives. Don’t worry about a thing. We will spend our lives making you a happy, happy woman.”

Hmm….you can never be too happy….

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

It’s all about string…

Being deeply loved by someone gives you strength, while loving someone deeply gives you courage--Lao Tzu

Life has taught us that love does not consist in gazing at each other but in looking outward in the same direction--Antoine de Saint-Exupery

Love makes your soul crawl out from its hiding place--Zora Neale Hurston

I have learned not to worry about love; but to honor its coming with all my heart--Alice Walker

Or depending on your mood – What’s love got to do with it? –Tina Turner

No, I’m not going to get all sappy over Valentine’s Day. I’m not one for occasions generally. However I have worked in many offices where to receive or not receive flowers on THE day was a huge deal. People would ooh and ahh and think why her and not me? Others would whisper – seriously - “She sent them to herself you know.” Funny, crazy, insane people. So why do people get all nutso over one day of the year when they could be showing THE person how they feel about them at random times? I love flowers but I would not expect them on THE day as a matter of course. I like spontaneity in a man.

Why does love drive people crazy? I think it’s one of those how long is a piece of string questions.
The answer? Who knows? And why do some people love who they love? Back to the string. Why do some people choose the wrong person? String again. Why do other people never take the fall? String. How is it that some people leave relationship after relationship and never find what they want? It’s string once more. In fact I think string should be given as a gift at Valentine’s Day as it sums the whole love thing up – it’s unfathomable, crazy, ties you up in knots and yet people keep doing it. If you love someone, give them string this Valentine’s Day – confuse them some more.

- If you’re in love – I’m happy for you
- If you’re looking for love – take it steady, be yourself, it will happen
- If you’re over love and you think it stinks – invest in Tim Tams and when you’re ready the right person will come along and love you for the extra curves.
- If you like being alone and are in no hurry to do anything but what suits you – I salute you

Time for Love – released today – click on the cover to buy.

Sarah Hanson opens her eyes to a darkly sexy man leaning over her and the strains of a waltz playing in the background. Further, she is no longer dozing in the taxi that escorts her from the job where she was just fired but inhaling the strong scent of beeswax and dressed in Regency era clothing.

Drake, Lord Hayworth, rake extraordinaire, is unable to reconcile his sudden attraction to the shelved miss who is meant to chaperone the daughter of a dear friend. Different from every other female he has known, he is keenly aware of the differences between her and his new fiancé--the young woman Sarah escorts.

As Sarah develops lasting relationships, she discovers the unconditional love of family and a passion for a man she is not meant to have, in a time she may not be able to keep. And for Drake, finding a pliable bride to marry so he can claim the last of his inheritance has become decidedly more difficult now that Sarah has turned his ordered life on its head.

Okay – we are very, very lucky to get an excerpt no one else has seen – please enjoy…

Later, in the park with Mary trailing behind, she and Milstoke laughed about it.
“The look on her face was priceless, Nigel, I wish I could have taken a picture, uh I mean, painted her portrait.”
He stopped. Milstoke turned to her.
“What?” she asked.
“You just called me by my given name. You have never done so before.”
She laughed nervously. It had taken some coaxing to have Mary discover it for her. Once she’d learned his name, she hadn’t considered it might be unusual to call him by it. “Haven’t I? Hmm. Go figure.” She began walking again.
Milstoke caught up to her. “No, you haven’t done.” He shook his head thoughtfully. “A lot about you has changed. Your speech is most singular. You are more forthright and use unusual dialogue.”
Sarah made a mental note to be more careful about her word choices. They walked in companionable silence. Sarah twirled her lace parasol round and round. She watched Milstoke from the corner of her eye. He remained silent but he was an avid people watcher.
“So, Nigel, when did you realize you were gay?”

“Pardon?” Again he stopped. Sarah was forced to stop too and she cocked her head to the side waiting for him to start up again.
Crap. Hadn’t she just decided to be more careful? Well, it was out there now. She might as well work with it. “Gay. You know, alternate lifestyle, interested in male companionship, light in the loafers…gay.”
Milstoke’s face turned an interesting shade of red. He darted a look around them. Mary, several paces behind, stared at the grass though the rapid blinking told Sarah she’d heard everything.
Sarah clapped a hand over her mouth. “Oh, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to out you. Nobody knows yet, huh?”
“How… What makes you think I am… Why would you say that I… We have been courting for a month. Really, Sarah, this is not appropriate discussion.”
Maybe. But then she’d just arrived two days ago taking the other Sarah’s place. Could she say soul swapping? Well not really that, rather like an historical twin with whom she switched places. Either way, she’d stepped into someone else’s shoes in the past and she didn’t want to wreck it should she switch back. Sarah rested a hand on his arm. “Relax. It’s okay. I won’t tell anyone.” Courting for a month, eh?
“But…”
Sarah smiled and jerked her head toward the walking path. He started walking again. She shrugged. “It’s no big deal. At home there is a big community of gays and lesbians. Besides, I have never seen a straight man so interested in another man’s backside before. This whole time we’ve been walking, you have passed many beautiful women but your eyes are riveted to the men they are with.” She nearly laughed at his surprise.
Despite his shock, curiosity shone in his eyes. “I didn’t realize I was…”
“So obvious? Mmm. I suppose to most people you aren’t but when you live in a town where alternative lifestyles are open and allowable, it’s just easy to detect. I mean, it’s not like you’re flaming, you just have a noticeable appreciation. My gay-dar went off.”
“I…” Milstoke looked flustered, unsure of her meaning but seeming to know she attempted to console him. “Suppose.” They walked on in silence. Suddenly, he stopped and turned to her. “I didn’t realize there was a ‘community’ of like-minded individuals anywhere in England. There are many?”
“Yeah, a few.” Sarah thought again of not ruining things for the other Sarah should she suddenly come back and have to explain all of this to Milstoke. “So why are we courting if you don’t really want a wife?”
“For now, no more discussion of it. It is disconcerting to discuss such things.”
“Okay.”
The introspective silence resumed. Milstoke looked at her occasionally, confusion written on his face and a question in his eyes.
Sarah stopped walking. “What is it now?”
Milstoke ran a hand over his face. “Talking to you is different.”
“So you’ve said.”
“You seem like a completely new person. You look the same. You have the same clothing. But you are different. You speak differently.”
“Is that all right?”
He considered her for a full minute. His eyes scanned her face for a discernable difference. Not finding one, he smiled acceptance.
“Yes. Yes it is. I don’t know what has happened that you speak as you do with such frankness but I believe I like it much better than the former proper air you carried.”
“Great.” Sarah’s shoulders relaxed. She hadn’t realized she’d been uptight about his answer. The fact of the matter was she genuinely liked Milstoke. She had popped into this time in the middle of a relationship doomed to fail and had come out with a friend, she hoped.
Milstoke’s eyes sparkled with mischief. He looped their arms together and continued walking, a new spring in his step. They looked at one another and laughed.
A lightness of spirit swelled in her breast. Never had she had a relationship like this. Maybe because she wasn’t truly committed to this time period she gave herself permission to act more confidently and heedless of the results. Whatever the cause, Sarah’s usual twenty-first century self-effacement was not present here.
She glanced at a passing curricle. Beth? The woman and her escort came nearer. It wasn’t Beth. She felt her heart lurch. What was Beth doing right now? Was she worried? Worrying wouldn’t be good for the baby. They could never be accused of being close but they were the only family each other had. As the older sister, Sarah felt responsible for Beth. She couldn’t watch out for her from another century.
She worried her bottom lip.
“Are you ready to turn back?” Milstoke asked.
“Huh? Oh. Yeah. I have a lot on my mind.”
“That is most apparent.”
She saw the question in his eyes. “No. I’m not ready to share but thank you.”
He nodded and guided her in silence down the street to the front steps of the Grantham townhouse. Before handing her in, he pulled her gently aside. “Lady Sarah, I feel…” he searched the air for words, “like our association has altered. I am pleased with the results.”
“Me too.” Spontaneously, Sarah rose up on her toes and kissed his cheek. She closed the door on his gasp of protest. Maybe it wasn’t okay to kiss a guy in public here, but she’d gone with the feeling of the moment. She stifled her giggle. His look had been priceless. Sarah handed her parasol to the butler and twirled her reticule as she climbed the stairs.

Last Day to win big!!!

What could you spend an eternity doing? What is your passion? Your hunger? Your deepest desire? Each day beginning February 5 and running through February 14 one of the ten authors will complete the line, "My darling I could spend eternity…" on either their blog or website. Collect all ten answers and e-mail them to anny@annycook.com with Eternally Yours in the subject line to win some hot, romantic books. There will be three lucky Valentine winners.

The prizes –

1st prize--5 books

2nd prize--3 books

3rd prize--2 books

The books

Sandra Cox Silverhills
Mona Risk To Love a Hero
Brynn Paulin Tribute For the Goddess
Bronwyn Green Mystic Circle
Cindy Spencer Pape Stone and Earth
N.J. Walters Seduction of Shamus O’Rourke
Elyssa Edwards Mating Stone
Amarinda Jones Shades of Gray
Kelly Kirch Time for Love
Anny Cook Honeysuckle

Entries must be in by February 16 at midnight EST. All books and prize winners will be drawn randomly.

Psst…wanna win some more stuff? Check out www.annycook.blogspot.com to read all about Anny’s great contest then jump over to www.kkirch.blogspot.com for your last chance to win a beautiful necklace.

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

Mad About Mirabelle – released today through Ellora's Cave! Let the pigeons loose!

Holy crap! Mirabelle Turner's new next door neighbor is the last man she expected to ever see again. It was one thing to have knee wobbling sex with this dark sexy stranger in the back of a limo but quite another to find him staying next door with his Aunt Lila. Can she resist the temptations of the boy next door?

Flynn Curtis is more then happy to tempt the delectable Mirabelle. He is mad about her. When his Aunt Lila's house mysteriously burns down he gladly accepts the reluctant Mirabelle's offer for he and his Aunt to move in with her. It is the start of all sorts of moves Flynn intends to make on his new neighbor.

Mirabelle is trapped by courtesy, lust and sudden realization that she is falling in love with Flynn. But does the person who burnt down Lila’s house have other plans for Mirabelle? And is Aunt Lila really the sweet old lady she seems? Can Flynn save the woman he is mad about?

The Wednesday Interview…

The last brilliant author of the year is the dazzling and talented Kelly Kirch – she made me say that. Her book Time For Love is released through Cerridwen Press on Feb 14, 2008. I know? How can we wait that long? So to check all Kelly Kirch sightings and machinations go to www.kkirch.blogspot.com

Time for Love – the Blurb…

Sarah Hanson opens her eyes to a darkly sexy man leaning over her and the strains of a waltz playing in the background. Further, she is no longer dozing in the taxi that escorts her from the job where she was just fired but inhaling the strong scent of beeswax and dressed in Regency era clothing.

Drake, Lord Hayworth, rake extraordinaire, is unable to reconcile his sudden attraction to the shelved miss who is meant to chaperone the daughter of a dear friend. Different from every other female he has known, he is keenly aware of the differences between her and his new fiancé--the young woman Sarah escorts.

As Sarah develops lasting relationships, she discovers the unconditional love of family and a passion for a man she is not meant to have, in a time she may not be able to keep. And for Drake, finding a pliable bride to marry so he can claim the last of his inheritance has become decidedly more difficult now that Sarah has turned his ordered life on its head.

The interview…

1. You have some sizzling sex scenes in your book. How hard is it to write sex and make it convincing? Yes, I do. It is completely difficult to write sex but to make it convincing? No, not really. If your plot calls for it, it’s because you’ve worked up to the stage where it flows naturally for the characters. If it’s forced, I’d say you have a chemistry problem with your hero and heroine or you are forcing the timing.

2. Romance and the condom. How hard do you find to slip it in or on when the action is hot between characters? A minor inconvenience but one that the edits will require. So I weigh the options. Do I want to fight the inevitable or slip on a slicker? It’s the post coital clean up I find icky.

3. Do you think romance just happens or do you make your characters work for it? I think chemistry just happens but romance, as a relationship takes work. If it didn’t there wouldn’t be a romantic plot.

4. What is it about your hero that makes him irresistible to women? He’s eye candy without recognizing it. He doesn’t know how devastating he is and he thinks the heroine is drop dead gorgeous no matter what she looks like or what she’s wearing. He goes weak-kneed for her, makes himself a fool for her, does ridiculous stunts to get her attention. It’s the kind of thing every regular woman wants to experience from a man who is beyond sexy.

5. Do you think readers want to escape or do they want to identify with a character? Oh I hope they want escape. I want escape and that’s what sparks the story. However, if they don’t identify with the character then the reader won’t stick around for the end to happen and the escape to be realized.

6. What do you think is the most important thing to remember when writing romance? The Happily Ever After. Don’t give me a story without the HEA, the joining of kindred souls through difficulty and humor. I won’t read it and I wouldn’t expect that from my audience either.

7. What are you working on now? I’m writing a Cerridwen book about an author who gets sucked into her own book as her characters are murdered one by one. She writes by the seat of her pants and never plots, like me. So she doesn’t know who the killer is, who is next, if she’ll return to reality and if she gets to keep the hero she falls in love with. Its working title is More Than Words. I’m having a lot of fun making fun of myself in this one.

The excerpt…

Sarah’s ears rang.
“Lady Billington?”
They had to be ringing. The stains of a waltz bloomed in her head. The last time she had heard something like that was when little Timmy Gustaffson had chased her in the playground and she’d run into an arching wooden swing.
Being fired felt kind of like that. The sick crack to the head of disbelief, the stomach-plummeting nausea…an arching wooden swing to her psyche.
“Lady Billington?”
Rich chocolate tones called her name. She peeked and quickly sealed that one eye back up.
Whoa! He’s hot! Maybe I should get fired more often. Love the hallucination.
“Sarah. Open your eyes.”
She did. He was lovely. “Yummy.” Oh crud! Did I just say that out loud?
Crystalline green eyes looked back at her curiously.
The angel of sex appeal bent deliciously near her. As sensation seeped back into her numb body, she also realized he held her slumped body against him. A steely arm wrapped supportively around her upper back and pressed her against the lapels of his coat. She decided his shoulder made a wonderful, albeit firm, pillow.
He smelled like heaven too. Male. Musky. And sandlewoody. She could sink into flavors like that.
“Oh, Sarah, you dropped your rose! Lord Hayworth, maybe you should take her onto the veranda while I pick this up. I should have waited until tomorrow after the festivities before I presented it to you, dear girl.”
She’d brought a woman into this fantasy? Sarah reopened her right eye. Reluctantly, she looked beyond the ebony haired vision. She had brought several other people apparently. She opened her other eye to take in the full scope. A dark-haired woman bent to collect the shards of a crystal rose and emerald stem that lay at Sarah’s feet.
Another woman, blonde and wearing a petulant frown tapped a cornflower-blue slipper. Two woolen clad male backs screened Sarah from the dancers on the floor. The crystal strains of an orchestra seeped past their guard and filled her head.
The sound system in this room is amazing. Sounds like they’re right here with me.
Sarah stood upright with Gorgeous Guy’s support.
“What is the matter with you? People are beginning to notice. Mother, make her collect herself. What if someone sees? I could be ruined.”
Fully supporting her own weight, Sarah faced the owner of the whinypitched complaint—the one with the petulant frown. The girl had to be upper-teens. She had platinum blonde hair and wide azure eyes. She was petite. Of course. She was Martha Mullen-esque, standing maybe five-two and all of a hundred pounds.
“Alexandra. Hush,” the brown-haired woman admonished. “Lord Hayworth, please.”
The beautiful man clasped Sarah’s hand to his arm. Another man followed behind, whisking her toward double French doors. She stared across the room. There was a live orchestra here? Where the heck am I?
Lord Hayworth tugged her back into motion and they gained the dark, cool safety of the veranda. Not nearly as crowded as the ballroom, Sarah was grateful for the claustrophobic relief. “You stay with her. I will be back with some lemonade.”
The other man smiled pleasantly at her before nodding to the cluster of women near the doors taking in the fresh air.
“Hi,” she said.
Confusion settled on his forehead. “Perhaps you should come to the bench and rest.” He led her to the bench, patting it. The solid thump of his hand on the stone slab seat reassured her of its reliability. She leaned back on the cool stone trying to still the cacophony of confusion swirling in her head.
Music floated out to them. A breeze ruffled the hairs on the nape of her neck. Candles burned brightly from every sconce in the room beyond. A couple waltzed past the open veranda doors. She wore an elaborate silver ball gown. He was dressed in peacock colors and a tall, stiff collar.
“Where am I?”
“At Grantham house attending their introduction ball for Miss Alexandra. You have been planning this with Lady Grantham for weeks. Don’t you remember?” The blond gentleman leaned toward her, concern written on every feature. His blue eyes shone with friendship and mild alarm.
Was she dreaming? Every sense tingled with accuracy. The cool gritty stone under her hands caught roughly at her gloves. The orchestra played sweet notes which floated on the same breeze that ruffled her skirts. Jasmine and candle wax warred for recognition. Never had a dream been more real.
Great! Getting fired has made me loopy.
She looked down at herself. She too was dressed in a ball gown. Navy colored slippers peeked from the hem of her navy satin dress. Sarah raised her hand touching the heavy pendant at her throat and higher to her elaborately piled hair. “Where am I?” Panic welled up inside her and settled about her breast bone.
“Is she all right?”
Sarah turned to the sound of Hayworth’s velvety voice.
“She seems to have forgotten she’s at the ball,” the fair-haired man said.
She didn’t know what was happening but she wasn’t about to show her hand either. “I’m fine. I just need to rest a minute. I must have hit my head harder than I thought. You know, temporary amnesia.”
“You hit your head?” Lord Hayworth asked.
“When I fainted?” she offered.
“Was there some other time I should have caught you?”
“Uh. No. Just this last time.” How come I sound English?
Lord Hayworth shook his head. “I think you’re right Lord Milstoke. She’s not well.”
She sipped the lemonade Hayworth handed her. Her eyes darted, trying to settle on something that made sense. None of it did. Her head throbbed. Lord Milstoke, the fair and Lord Hayworth, the sexy, were looking at her with marked concern.
“Perhaps you should go to your quarters,” Lord Hayworth suggested.
“And where would they be?” she asked.
Lord Hayworth and Lord Milstoke exchanged looks.
“I’ll have Elizabeth take you. I may be a common sight in the Grantham house but my escorting you to your rooms would cause raised eyebrows for which even my title won’t compensate.”
“Of course you have a reputation. How cliché.”
“Pardon?”
“Nothing. Don’t mind me. I’m just hallucinating. I got fired today.”
“You’ve been burned?” Milstoke asked in alarm.
“No. I was let go.”
“That’s impossible. I caught you myself. You never touched the ground.” Hayworth looked offended.
Sarah grinned. “Never mind. Take me to your leader. I need a nap.”
Lord Hayworth tucked her hand into the crook of his elbow. She turned back to Milstoke before entering the ballroom again. “Hey, if you see my cab driver, don’t tip him. I don’t appreciate the joke. It’s been a hard enough day as it is.”

www.kellykirch.com and www.kkirch.blogspot.com

The competition…

Okay, you’ve been waiting patiently for the last true love clue…here it is -

On the twelfth day of romance my true love gave to me…Twelve Tantalizing Tim Tams….what a man

So, you know your next step. Email all 12 answers to anny@annycook.com with 12 days of Romance in the subject line to win some great books. The competition closes midnight on 21st December. Good luck.

As always check out what Kelly is doing on www.kkirch/blogspot.com and Anny has the blog serial on www.annycook.blogspot.com

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

Hallelujah and pass the gin it's Friday...

Okay so yesterday I reported how un-Christmas-like I am. I have managed to get the bloody Christmas song out of my head now so that’s good. Play a Pink CD and that guarantees no more carols. You end up singing “I’m not here for your entertainment…you don’t really want to mess with me tonight.” That’s much more an Amarinda song. Anyway back to Christmas. I do write messy handwritten cards with obscure things only the person getting them would ever understand. If someone opened them by mistake that would think "what is this woman rabbiting on about?” I plan on writing some tomorrow. I don’t do the whole present thing as I think Christmas is way too commercial and being an atheist it seems a little hypocritical to be running around celebrating something you don’t believe in. Please - no conversions. And then there’s the fact that I suck at wrapping presents. I have no patience. I usually give people things in the bag I bought it in. It’s become a tradition people expect from me. “Ooh look, a Target bag!” So there it is…I am a Christmas free zone. I like it only because it means time off work and you have to like that.

Speaking of all things crap filled – work – as you may know I quit my job. I feel great about it. Yeah, I am odd leaving one job without another in waiting but just knowing I do not have to turn up at the hall of wankerdom every day is excellent. Did I get a going away gift? Well, gee, no…funny about that. Did anyone give a rat’s arse? Only the clients I deal with cared. They were upset. That was nice…not that they were upset but that they generally liked me personally and professionally. I did have a knock-down-drag-em-out fight over my pay being totally frigging wrong and "bloody fix this now!" They had another two attempts at fixing it before they got in right. Absolute wankers. What did I say as I walked out? I looked the men up and down, shook my head and say - "It's been a truly lousy experience - bye" and left. Ethel (best friend) and I have a list we call the “fuck em’ list.” It’s a pretty full list of people who have pissed us off. I have added the hall of wankerdom to it. She agreed we definitely had to make space for them. So I am free.

On www.kkirch.blogspot.com Kelly left us with…

The were bunny pointed like an Irish Setter. In disbelief, Emmeline watched as a giant kangaroo sprang toward her. It approached, reached in its pouch and pulled out the Jeweled Electro-peeler two thousand 8.93. She was saved!

Until the Roo leveled the device on her and cackled maniacally. "I've waited a long time for this, wench!"



Sheer madness of course…I’m going with the more sedate…

Emmeline held her hands up in surrender. So this was the end. Well, so be it. She had a good…er, odd life. It seemed strangely fitting to die at the hands of a kangaroo with a peeler in its paw. “Get it over and done with.” Emmeline gritted her teeth and faced her demise.

“Aren’t you at least going to plead for your life?”

“Would it do any good?”

“Maybe.” He shrugged as he twirled the peeler casually.

“Do I know you?” There was something strangely familiar about his voice – nasal and annoying.

“We were a high school together,” he said eagerly as if pleased she recognized him.

“I went to high school with a kangaroo?” Well sure, why not, she married a man that turned in a donkey. “I know I was taking a lot of sinus tablets at one stage as a teenager but…” She watched as the kangaroo placed the peeler on the ground and unzipped the roo suit. It was Wendell. W. Wagstaff, the school dweeb.

“I just wanted to freak you out, Em.”

Emmeline looked at the pirate outfit under his suit. She charged towards him and slapped him on the chest. “What the hell is this about?”

“I’ve been monitoring your activities.”

Great, another weirdo in her life. “Why?”

“There is a great Armada amassing in Belching Beelzebub’s Bay. We need your help with the Captain.”

Emmeline narrowed her eyes. She knew only one Captain and she would rather eat dirt than get involved with Jack again. “Nuh uh…”

What will Anny do tomorrow on www.annycook.blogspot.com? Your guess is as good as mine


Five Fast ones with author Kelly Kirch…

Where is the fantastic new cover for Kelly Kirch’s long awaited book? Well, like all fantastic things suspense makes them all the more fantastic-er…fantastic-ful…oh, you know what I mean. It will be real purty when it arrives. In the interim – here is a picture of Captain Jack Sparrow. He looks a lot like Kelly. Okay he doesn’t, I am just following the Captain Jack theme.

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

Aries. The head butting thing because people who piss you off do not actually expect you to ram them. Their expressions are priceless.

2.Aliens surround your house during your favourite TV show. You are in grave danger. Do you turn up the sound? Grab your laptop and start taking notes for your next book? Or do you turn off the lights and pretend you’re not at home? Or none of the above?

I DVR-pause the show long enough to send them a withering glare, send them off to clean their rooms and tell them this is my time, piss off until the credits roll.

3. My favourite food is….because….

Never the same week to week because I latch on to a new favorite and do it to death until the next one hits. Last week it was tuna, week before sushi, this week brown bread. Don’t judge.

4. If I was in charge of the world I would….

Mandate the purchase of my books for leisure reading then hand the keys to someone more politically minded.

5. Name your special talent.

Faking it. Not just one particular type of “it” but all “it”s out there that I’d otherwise rather not be doing. At a party having fun? I could be faking it, you’d never know. Playing dumb with wide Bambi eyes? Faking it. It’s a gift.

Time For Love – released February 14th, the perfect Valentine's gift, but in the meanwhile check out www.kellykirch.com and leave obscure messages on www.kkirch.blogspot.com.

The Blurb

Sarah Hanson opens her eyes to a sexy man leaning over her and the strains of a waltz playing in the background. Further, she is no longer dozing in the taxi that escorts her from the job where she was just fired but inhaling the strong scent of beeswax and dressed in Regency era clothing.

Lord Drake Hayworth, rake extraordinaire, is unable to reconcile his sudden attraction to the shelved miss who is meant to chaperone the daughter of a dear friend. Different from every other female he has known, he is keenly aware of the differences between her and his new fiancé--the young woman Sarah escorts.

As Sarah develops lasting relationships, she discovers the unconditional love of family and a passion for a man she is not meant to have, in a time she may not be able to keep. And for Drake, finding a pliable bride to marry so he can claim the last of his inheritance has become decidedly more difficult now that Sarah has turned his ordered life on its head.

12 Days of Romance

Do you want to win some fantastic holiday reading? Of course you do. If so come celebrate the Twelve days of Romance with 12 authors from Ellora's Cave, Wild Rose Press, Total-E-Bound and Cerridwen Press. Each day beginning December 8th and running through December 19th one of the twelve authors will tell what their "True love gave to them" on either their blog or website.

Collect all twelve answers and e-mail them to anny@annycook.com with 12 days of Romance in the subject line to win some great books. There will be three lucky winners. The prizes –1st prize--6 books2nd prize--4 books3rd prize--2 booksAll books and prize winners will be drawn randomly

Anny Cook Winter Hearts
Sandra Cox Boji Stones
Bronwyn Green Ronan's Grail
Heather Hiestand Cards Never Lie
Barbara Huffert Deal of a Lifetime
Amarinda Jones Mad About Mirabelle
Kelly Kirch Time for Love
Cindy Spencer Pape Cowboy's Christmas Bride
Brynn Paulin Fallen
Jacquéline Roth Access Denied
KZ Snow Mrs. Claws
Lacey Thorn Earth Moves

All answers must be received no later than the stroke of midnight 21st December (Northern hemisphere time) or worlds collide and you don’t want to be responsible for that now do you?

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