And after that…resurrection.

Part One Available Now — absolutely free!

***WARNING: contains adult content

The Resurrected — Part One .epub

The Resurrected — Part One .pdf

The Resurrected — Part One .htm

I will be adding this story, the first in the series, to Amazon, Barnes and Noble and other online digital retailers, and it should be available by the end of the month. But get yours here, now, absolutely free!

Additional serial “chapters” will be released once a month after that.

Years ago, lowly kitchen slag Notsah stole bread–

—and while fleeing the King’s Guard, she burst into the private chambers of the very man she was stealing from. Prince Jarron Bydelay, scarred by a hereditary illness, wasn’t expecting an audience to his pleasure. But when Notsah threw herself at his feet, he surprised himself by showing her mercy and dismissing her pursuer, Erekon, Captain of the King’s Guard. Erekon had his own reasons for wanting Notsah captured, but he dared not disobey a prince…

Ten years later, Notsah has returned to the palace as Sister Redemption, Handmaiden to the new King—Jarron, a man in desperate need of solace. She hasn’t forgotten Jarron’s kindness, but it’s not her place to remind him of the past. Uncomfortable with the attention his position brings, he’d rather spend time with advisors than in the pleasantries of court—and refuses a wife, fearful of passing on his illness to a child. But soon he suspects he has fallen for his beautiful and talented Handmaiden. He might not remember her past—but Erekon does. And as the country moves toward war, he is determined to use her to get what he wants from his new king. Now, if Jarron learns her secret, she’ll lose the only man she’s ever loved—and if she doesn’t tell him, he’ll never truly love her back…

Excerpt!

One did not ignore the summons from the queen, especially if she were your mother and even if she no longer held the title. When the note came, written in her familiar hand and even smelling of her perfume, Jarron had pinched the bridge of his nose to fend off the instant headache such a missive brought on. Demi had brewed him an aromatic tea guaranteed, she said, to soothe it—but it had worked only as long as he stayed with his Handmaiden in his rooms.

The headache was back, along with a disturbing tingling sensation just beneath his skin, all over. Like the touch of ladybeetle wings, fluttering. No sting yet, though long experience had told him it could erupt at any time, along with the first cluster of blisters. He’d bitten the inside of his cheek and worried the spot with his tongue, wondering if the pox would begin there.

His mother didn’t get up to greet him when her maid showed Jarron into her sitting room. Jarron hadn’t expected her to, and when he went to one knee to kiss the hand she offered, he found it no more unpalatable than it had ever been to so greet her—even though now that he was king he was no more required to bend his knee for her than for Sinder himself. He did it because greeting her in that manner meant more to her than his title meant to him, and because though she complained bitterly about everything in her life, she was still his mother.

“Jarron,” she said when he’d settled himself across from her in an uncomfortable, spindly-legged chair. “How generous of you to attend me. I know how . . . burdened . . . you are.”

“You sent for me, Mother.” Jarron kept his tone neutral, face without expression. This was the woman who’d carried him in her womb, expelled him in blood and agony. She hadn’t nursed him, had left him to be raised mostly my nursemaids, but still, he owed her his life.

“Tell you true, I did have to send for you, did I not? Interesting, that unless I write to you, my own son, living within the very same walls I occupy, you treat my quarters as though they were plague-riddled. Aye, I sent for you. I had to, in order to get more than a glimpse of you from across the room.”

“I came at your bidding, Mother. And you know you are always welcome to attend any amusement of the court.”

She grimaced. “And have them all whisper behind their hands at how much I’ve aged since my husband removed me from that which brought me such joy? I think not. And what good would it do me, as it comes to you. You avoid such things entirely.”

“Unlike you, Mother, I find spending my time in such pursuits less than entertaining.”

She glared. “Which is another reason I simply cannot attend! Unescorted? Unaccompanied? Your father, Sinder Bless Him, is abed by the time dusk falls and up with the first light. He told me he’s finished with court, leaving it to you as the new king as he’s left all else. Well, I say, let you take the politics, the deadly dull talk of trade and borders, but for the love of the Land Above, why not avail himself of all the pleasures he worked so hard to put into place for so long? At least while he’s still . . . able . . . to enjoy it.”

It was the closest she’d ever come to admitting aloud her husband was becoming every day lost in his mind. Her perfume washed over him, and the headache bit him between the eyes. Jarron leaned back, away from her scent and fierce gaze. “Mayhap he only ever attended the evening activities to please you, Mother.”

“Disgraceful,” she muttered. She flicked the hem of her gown to expose her pointed slippers. She pointed her toes, one after the other, then got to her feet.

Yewdit Bydelay was a tall, broad-shouldered woman with large feet and hands. Even clad in the finest fashion and with the most stylish application of cosmetic, she had a mannish figure and face, made little more feminine by her hairstyle. Dark and thick like Jarron’s, the curls made stiff with some sort of hair dressing piled high on her head. She played at being tender and sweet, easily wounded, her pouting and tears legendary, but the fact was, Jarron’s mother was coarse and brusque.

Still, she’d mastered the art of manipulation. She thought naught of deceit, should it bring her what she wanted, nor had she any hesitation in using her words to wound anyone who stood in her way. Her husband had been long in the habit of placating her, her daughters had taken up her habits as their own, and her son . . . well, her son had done his best to avoid her in his adulthood.

She turned so swiftly to face him her gown swirled around her feet. She meant to weep. He saw the tears glittering, her mouth trembling. Jarron sighed inwardly.

“And you’ve not even told me about . . . her!”

“The Handmaiden,” Jarron said.

“Aye! Her! You told me naught of your intent to send away for one. You asked me no advice, sought no counsel. . . .”

“I’m not obliged to seek your counsel in such matters,” Jarron said. “I spoke to Father on the subject when I’d decided it was the path I wished to pursue. He had no opinion.”

“Well, I do!” she cried.

Jarron got up, too, not wishing to be sitting while she towered over him. “I daresay you’d have the same opinion whether I’d asked you before sending for her as after.”

“You don’t care what I think!”

“Do you protest her presence, Mother, or the fact I secured a helpmate without consulting you? Which is it that so vexes you?”

His mother took a step back, jaw dropping. “How can you speak to me in such a manner? I see how she’s turned you against me already!”

He laughed at that bit of ludicrousness. “Oh, for Sinder’s sake, Mother. She’s done naught of the kind. Demi has no thoughts whatsoever on your existence, much less the intent to somehow wound you.”

His mother gasped. “But you do? My own son?”

He softened, trying. Truly. “Mother, that’s not so. I plead your mercy, I spoke out of turn. But I’m a grown man. And the king, though I know how that, too, vexes you. It’s not my wish that you should be shut up in here with naught to amuse you, but if you don’t wish to attend court, I can’t make you.”

Now she would turn to wheedling, which had ever served her well. “Jarron. My sweet. Aye, in truth I counseled your father against relinquishing his seat, but not because I thought you incapable of succeeding him. I know you’ll be a fine leader in his place. I merely want you to taste all of what your crown offers. That’s all. And, of course, I want to see you well married, with sons of your own to carry on the name. I want what any mother wants for her son, that’s all. Your success.”

The thing of it was, Jarron didn’t believe his mother was lying. At the least, he didn’t believe she thought she was lying. She meant what she said, so long as his success provided hers.

“Think you I’ve failed in some manner?” he asked, reasonably enough, he thought.

Her eyes narrowed. Mouth pursed. If she knew how old she looked when she did that, Jarron thought, he was sure she’d make sure to never crease her face into that expression again.

“You know I’m always here to offer you my counsel, Jarron.”

“I know you are, Mother.”

“I’m better versed in the ways of this court than you. The running of this province, as well, for I was ever your father’s best counsel. Should you need anything, it’s best you come to me. Even in the matter of a wife.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Jarron said to appease her, with no intention of ever relying on her for anything.

“I shall write some letters of introduction and invitation. Today,” she added. “Your father met with their fathers, but I met with their mothers.”

“Whose mothers?”

“Young women of good breeding and noble title, of course. Your future wife, among them. I’ll start today.”

“Mother,” Jarron said so stiffly, she paused. “Don’t. I am telling you, don’t.”

She frowned again. “Why not?”

“I don’t need you to do that for me. I’m content for the moment where I am. I have a Handmaiden, bound to bring me absolute solace—should I not achieve that before taking on the responsibility of a wife? Think you any woman would wish to take as husband a man still in need of such?”

“Absolute solace is a crock of stinking dung, and the Order of Solace a set of spinsters bent on washing your mind of anything but their Faith. Your father and I didn’t practice, why should you? A wife will bring you all the solace you could need.”

“Until Demi leaves me, her purpose complete, I’ll not seek a wife,” Jarron said evenly. He made a leg, as courteous as his mother could demand, and straightened. “I’ll bring her to meet you, if you like.”

She didn’t merely frown. This time his mother’s lip curled, the same as a dog baring its teeth. “You’ve never introduced me to any of your other whores, why should I wish to see this one simply because she’s dressed with a prettier title?”

His mother liked argument if only so that she might always be proven right. Jarron had long ago given up fighting against her, which was probably why she felt she had the continued right to afflict her opinions on him unsolicited. This time, as so many others, he said naught.

“Good day, Mother. I must take my leave, now.”

She sniffed, drawing herself up as though he’d mortally wounded her. “To get back to her?”

“Alas, no, for I must confess I’d rather that than meet with Erekon Kosem and his shomerim about increasing security.”

“What? Why would they be increasing security? Why? Is there danger?” She clutched at her throat in a terror Jarron believed might be only partially true.

“None so far, but any time power changes hands there’s the chance of unrest. Dissension.” He eyed her. “My sisters might wish their boys to take the throne in my stead, aye?”

His mother looked stunned at that, but only for a moment. Then she looked assessing for even a shorter breath before her expression turning castigating. “Hush your mouth. Your sisters would never seek to usurp you.”

They might, he thought, if one of their boys was to be given the role of his heir. But Jarron didn’t say so. This was his business, not his mother’s.

“Good day,” he said again and left her behind.

His headache got better the moment he stepped through her doors.

Buy!

Amazon.com Kindle

Amazon.com Paperback

Barnes and Noble



Six months later, however, Luke returns—changed. He’s survived a cave exploration gone horribly wrong…and learned the truth about the creatures hiding in the darkness. Now he hunts the monsters that torment him, finding solace only in Celia’s bed and the explosive passion they still share. But will their love be enough to make Luke stay with Celia, or will his mission draw him away for good?

* * *

Exclusive Excerpt!

Luke ran his hands up her thighs and over her hips. His cock jutted between them, and Celia stroked it slowly, smiling when she felt the lift of his hips under her. When he put his arms up over his head, those big hands gripping the spindles of her headboard, something inside her twisted and tangled. Her throat went just a little dry.

She leaned forward to kiss him, his cock a warm length against her belly. She opened the drawer of her nightstand, pulled out the box of condoms she’d bought on an admittedly spontaneous whim and was as grateful for now as she’d been for the clean sheets. Luke’s gaze went from hers to the small package in her hand, and a small smile tugged the corner of his mouth.

“Now’s the time when we assure each other we don’t do this a lot,” Celia told him as she tore the wrapping.

Luke’s breath hissed between his teeth, and his tongue caught there too. “I don’t do this a lot.”

“Me neither,” Celia breathed as she eased the condom down his length.

She moved to slide him inside her before he spoke again, and after that neither of them seemed quite capable of finding more words. She didn’t always love being on top because the angle could sometimes rub her in the wrong places, but tonight it worked just fine. Just as Luke had found the perfect rhythm for her downstairs, Celia found what worked just right now. They moved together, no fumbling, nothing awkward or out of place. It was one of those truly first-rate, effortless fucks, rare like a blue moon, and Celia savored every second of pleasure Luke’s body gave hers.

And he worked it, those nice white teeth denting his bottom lip as his brow furrowed. He’d let go of the headboard so he could slide a hand between them, his knuckles giving her clit the best and most beautiful pressure every time she slid all the way down his cock. She was going to come again, and it was sweet, it was unexpected and delightful, it was…

“Fucking gorgeous,” Celia gasped as the first wave washed over her.

Luke groaned, his last couple thrusts ragged, but that only made them better. His cock nudged her at a different angle in the last moment, sending another wave of pleasure through her and just as perfectly as everything else about this night had been, Celia collapsed onto his chest with a happy, sated sigh.

When she woke in the morning, she found he’d left a flower in the dent his head had made on her pillow. She recognized it as one of the daisies from her half-assed garden out back. She found another on the dining room table. A third by the front door, and when, hoping against hope she opened the front door, a final flower rested on her front porch.

But Luke himself was gone.

Buy:

Amazon.com Kindle

Barnes and Noble Nook

 

Search

Start a new search on chapters.indigo.ca

In Books In Music In DVD In Toys

 

eHarlequin.com romance, fantasy and scintillating suspense books at great low prices. Save an extra 10% with code SAVE10EHQN at checkout!

Excerpt:

Kissing.

Tonight was kissing. Melissa had flossed, brushed and rinsed three times already and was considering heading to the restroom to do it a fourth time when the door opened and Matt came in. She finished crunching her mint and swallowed. Smiled.

“Hey,” she said.

Three days into this experiment, and all she could think about was whether or not she was going to go through with it and have sex with him. It had colored every perception about the entire experience. The hand holding, the hugging. She’d written down all her thoughts and emotions, just as she’d been instructed, but that hadn’t helped. If anything, focusing on exactly how her mind leaped from a simple squeeze of fingers to imagining the size of Matt’s penis had only made it all the more impossible to stop thinking about what his erection might be like.

“Hi.” Matt’s smile got wider. “So. You ready for this?”

“I don’t know. I think so.” Melissa patted her belly. “I avoided garlic all day. I hope you did, too!”

“Of course.” Matt leaned in to say confidentially, “brushed my teeth about ten times, too.”

She laughed. It seemed natural by this point to let him take her hand and to follow him to the couch, where they settled into a snuggly position, arms and legs tangled up. The idea was to progress further into intimacy every session, and Melissa was glad Matt was making it so easy. So not-weird. It easily could’ve been, with someone else.

Funny, too, how she’d first thought he wasn’t much to look at. After all this time getting up close and personal, it wasn’t that her idea of what was attractive had changed. It was her opinion of Matt that had. His smile, the way the corners of his eyes crinkled, his laugh – those more than made up for his hazel eyes and sandy hair.

He was smiling now, his fingers linked loosely with hers. “If I tell you something, will you promise not to laugh?”

Melissa laughed, anyway. “Umm…oops.”

Matt shook his head a little. “I haven’t been this nervous about kissing someone since I was in eighth grade playing Seven Minutes in Heaven in the closet.”

Melissa hadn’t played that game. “Spin the bottle, for me.”

He tilted his head, just a little. “You too?”

“I can honestly say I’ve never thought about kissing someone with as much trepidation and anxiety as I’ve been thinking about this all day long,” Melissa admitted.

Matt’s fingers squeezed. “You don’t want to?”

Did she imagine he sounded disappointed? Melissa shook her head. “No. I want to. I mean…do you want to?”

“Yeah. A thousand bucks, right?”

Melissa took a deep breath. “Right. It would be stupid to get all this way and then bail.”

They both nodded.

Neither of them moved.

“Maybe if we both went for it at the same time,” Matt suggested. Then, “God, you must think I’m such a pussy.”

“No!” Melissa laughed at that. “No, Matt. Wow. Not at all. Believe me, I’m nervous, too. This isn’t really the normal way anyone goes about kissing someone for the first time, you know. I’m trying to remember all the details to put in the report, first of all. Usually that first kiss is just…sensation, you know? Not logic. Not analysis.”

“Count to three,” Matt murmured, eyes gleaming. “Then we’ll go for it.”

“Deal.”

One. Two. Three…

It was spectacularly bad. Teeth mashed against gums in a hard, dry peck that had nothing resembling passion whatsoever. They both pulled away from each other, and Melissa touched her mouth to make sure she wasn’t bleeding. It sure felt like her mouth was at least bruised.

“Wow,” Matt said. “That sucked.”

Yet Melissa laughed again. “It sure did.”

Matt ran his tongue over his bottom lip and eased a tiny bit closer. “Let’s try it again. Slower this time? Maybe…you should go first.”

“Me? Why me?” Melissa heard a squeak in her voice and swallowed hard.

“I just…erm…” Matt looked embarrassed. “I think it would be better that way, that’s all.”

Melissa eyed him. “Why?”

He looked down to where their hands still linked. It had become such second nature she’d barely noticed. “Because you’re the woman, and I want to make sure you…um…you know. Really want to, and all.”

“A thousand bucks, remember?” she teased.

Matt looked at her. “Yeah, well…aside from that. I want to make sure you’re okay with it.”

This touched her, and Melissa nodded, even though the idea of being the one to move in first for the kiss made her stomach clench. “That’s very sweet, Matt.”

“Hey, I’m a sweet guy.”

“And so modest,” she said.

“So? You’ll do it?”

Melissa drew in a deep, long breath. “Sure. Okay. I’ll do it.”

Had she ever been the first to make the move? If she had, Melissa couldn’t remember it. Of all the first kisses she’d ever had with someone, this was certainly shaping up to be the most memorable. That’s when she decided she was going to make it memorable, not just because they were doing an experiment, but, well, just because.

Because she could.

It comes out on June 1, 2011 which I just realized is like, just a few days away. Hooray! Hooray! So, don’t be shy, head on over to Amazon.com and preorder your copy! Or you can buy it directly from eHarlequin.com –
— though why you can’t preorder from there, I just don’t know. Guess you gotta wait until June 1! Or from Barnes and Noble.com!

Four of erotic fiction’s most talented authors carry readers away with all-new tales of ecstasy that prove that the most delectable things in life come in threes…

In Emma Holly’s FLIPPING FOR CHELSEA, Shay and Liam shared an unforgettable night with their lifelong friend, Chelsea, awakening a rush of forbidden feelings—feelings they have to reckon with when the three reunite, and the unrequited lust between them is too much to bear.

Though Ava left her hard-knock Georgia childhood behind, she never forgot Luca and Angelo. Together they were best friends with a bond that could never be broken. But when she returns, the three must decide whether to face the fires that burn between them, or forgo their desires forever in Lauren Dane’s DIRTY/BAD/WRONG.

In Megan Hart’s JUST ONE NIGHT, fun-loving couple Kerry and Jeremy find themselves in a triangle of trouble when Kerry’s old crush, Brian, returns for a school reunion, and Jeremy gives her his enthusiastic approval to seduce him. But while Jeremy has no trouble sharing Kerry, Brian isn’t sure he can handle what’s coming.

Years ago, Walker walked out on Madeline when she needed him most. Now, the ex-Secret Service agent is back—hired to protect Madeline by her billionaire boss, Tony. Madeline is determined to make him pay for denying her desires—and she’s not above bringing Tony in to sweeten the deal in Bethany Kane’s ON THE JOB.

Hooray, hooray, today’s the day!

Excerpt from Just One Night:

“Gorgeous.” Jeremy looked over Kerry’s shoulder at their mutual reflection as his hands came to rest on her hips. The smooth fabric of her dress bunched a little under his fingertips.

At the heat of him against her back she shivered, studying herself with a jaded eye. She turned her face side to side, checking out the dangling bead and chain earrings that brushed her neck, bared by her upswept hair. At her makeup, applied a little more thickly tonight than was her norm. And finally, again at the dress that Jeremy had picked out for her. There was a lot of cleavage. She leaned back against him a little, meeting his gaze in the mirror.

“You think so, huh?”

He kissed the side of her neck. The swift, hot flick of his tongue created an answering pull in her cunt. Jeremy’s fingers slipped higher, over the dress’s sleek material. He cupped her breasts, pushing them together so they almost spilled out altogether. “Definitely. He’ll fucking love it.”

Kerry laughed even as her stomach took a slow, rolling tumble. “I hope so.”

“He will.”

“He wasn’t into me so much back then. What’s to say his tastes have changed?”

Jeremy tweaked her nipples, braless, so they stood out against the material. His breath gusted over her neck, and Kerry’s clit pulsed, just once. She shifted, the silk of her panties rubbing her bare pussy. Jeremy had shaved her nearly bare, leaving only a landing strip. She never shaved that close, just trimmed her bikini area and kept her curls close-cropped. This bare flesh against the silk was new. Exciting. Distracting.

“He could be gay,” Kerry added. “That would explain a lot.”

“Baby, a gay man would pop a rod at the sight of you in this dress. Brian Jordan doesn’t have a chance.”

She turned then to face him. Her arms slid up around his neck. In her three-inch heels she could look him in the eye. “Are you sure about this?”

Jeremy’s gaze flickered, but he smiled. He cupped her ass and pulled her close to him. He ground his crotch against her, his cock thick and hard beneath his jeans. “It’s what you want, isn’t it?”

Kerry nodded and kissed him. “Well…sure. But…”

Jeremy had dragged the admission out of her late one night in the summer heat, windows open and even sheets too heavy for sleeping. He’d been kneeling between her legs, lapping slowly at her clit. Teasing her toward orgasm, then pulling back just enough to keep her from surging over. He’d made her tell him secrets. The fact that she’d once dreamed of giving up her virginity to Brian Jordan had only been one of them.

“But nothing. You wanted him back then. You told me you did. And now’s your chance to get him. What’s wrong with that?”

“Nothing’s wrong with it. Just that…are you sure you’re okay with this?” She studied his face, looking for any hint or inkling of a lie.

Jeremy laughed and rubbed her ass in slow circles, then stepped back. “You’re still coming home to me, right?”

“Of course.”

“And you’re going to tell me every dirty, nasty detail. Right?”

Kerry drew in a breath at the thought of it. Not just of doing it – seducing and fucking Brian Jordan. Living out an adolescent dream. But of coming home and telling her boyfriend of eighteen months about it. “Most men wouldn’t be okay with their girlfriends fucking another guy. Much less want to know all about it.”

“What can I say? I’m not most men.”

She knew that already. Eighteen months in this relationship and Jeremy managed to surprise her almost every day. She wondered if she’d ever learn him the way he seemed to know her. “No. You certainly aren’t.”

He spun her around to face the mirror again. One hand anchored her hip. The other inched her skirt up over her thigh. His fingers traced patterns on her skin, then over her panties. Kerry watched, mesmerized, as his forefinger circled the silk over her clit with such a light touch she could barely feel it.

“Relax,” Jeremy said into her ear. “He’s gonna fucking love you. I told you that already.”

“I don’t need him to love me. Just want me.” Kerry shivered again at Jeremy’s brushing touch. She wanted to tip her hips, push her cunt into his hand. Get more. She didn’t. Every muscle in her body felt taut, tense. “Just for one night.”

CONTEST!

I have five copies of Three to Tango to give away. All you have to do is comment here about a crush, the “one that got away” or an old boyfriend/girlfriend you’ve never forgotten and why! If you had the chance for Just One Night…would you take it? (Assuming it wouldn’t ruin your current life, let’s make this a fantasy, okay?)

Comment to THIS post. I’ll choose five winners at random by Friday, May 6 at 5 pm. International’s fine.

M

After Agent Kendall Frasier’s partner is shot in “friendly fire” during a drug bust, she agrees to take a week’s vacation on a tropical island as part of her psychiatric evaluation. Sand, sun, sea—what could be better to help her work through her guilt? Even if the presence of the man responsible for the shooting, Agent Zane Vincent, seems counterproductive to her mental health.

As Kendall gets to know Zane, and realizes he feels worse about what happened than she does, it becomes impossible to hate him. And their mutual attraction becomes impossible to deny.

Kendall and Zane soon agree to put the event that brought them together in the past—and spend the present exploring their most erotic desires. Do they have a future in the real world when their week in paradise is over?

Wow. That cover makes me sad that when I look out my window, all I see is bare trees and gray skies. On the other hand, hello ABS! *preetttttyyy*

If you’d like to read more, including an excerpt (and buy links, pretty pretty buy links!) click on the picture, and off you go!

I wrote this story quite some time ago, so I can’t recall the playlist I listened to while writing it. Heck, I might’ve written it before I even HAD AN iPOD! (Don’t hold me to that, I’m not sure it’s true. It feels true.) At any rate, I know for sure I wrote it while in the throes of love for Vin Diesel, and there’s not a darn thing wrong with THAT, let me tell you. If you find you must be in the throes of something, Vin Diesel’s probably a pretty good thing to be in the throes of. This story has been polished up and buffed (just like Mr. Diesel himself) for its new home with Carina Press, so I hope if you like contemporary erotic romance novellas, you’ll give it a try. And if you don’t like contemporary erotic romance novellas, well…I hope you read something else!

The first day of spring is gray and rainy here…what’s the weather like in your part of the world today?

M

This is why — because by the time a book comes out, I’ve already lived with it for so long (in this case, literally years and years and years) that sometimes it’s hard for me to remember that really, it’s BRAND SPANKING NEW! (I just wanted to say spanking today.)

But Precious and Fragile Things is now officially out, it’s on the shelves and available all over the place. Look for it in the fiction or fiction/literature or mainstream sections in your local bookstores — but if it’s not there, you might take a peek in the romance section. It’s been showing up there too, though of course if you’ve followed along with this blog at all, you know that it’s NOT A ROMANCE. (And though it does have the word fuck liberally peppered throughout it, it’s not erotic, either.)

It’s even in Wegman’s! I mean, just look at that. Right there in the middle of the grocery store! Above Snooki, so I hear tell. Very exciting.

In case you missed it, here’s a nifty book trailer video for it:

Wow! I wrote the book, and I still kind of got chills when I saw that trailer.

I mean, I’m not gonna lie, the fact this book has hit the shelves is sort of making me do this:

You can find out more about the book here: Including trivia, an excerpt or two, buy links. All the good stuff.

So what can I say about the book that you won’t learn from that page (or haven’t heard already?)

Well, the fact is that this book was a long, long time in the making. I wrote it originally when my children were five and two…they’re quite a bit older than that now. I called it Three Months, which is how I still usually think of it. I wrote it before I even owned an iPod (they didn’t exist) or a cellphone (they existed, I just didn’t have one.)

When I pitched this book, one agent looked at me with horror. You’ve heard the term “lip curled?” Her lip curled. She was a appalled. She said, “no mother would want to ever run away from her children.”

I’m pretty sure she didn’t have any kids.

All I can say is, there have been many, many times I wanted to run away from my children and my spouse and all the responsibilities of parenthood and marriage and housecleaning. Mostly when the kids were small and constantly messy and clinging and all I had was crushed Cheerios in my carpet and twenty extra pounds on my gut from “baby weight” and didn’t get enough sleep.

Precious and Fragile Things is about a woman who loves her family, but they’re driving her crazy.

So…maybe she was predisposed a little bit to being crazy herself, don’t we all have that in us? That ability to make bad choices, make mistakes, give in to the impulses that are bad for us?

I don’t write characters who always make the right choices. Chances are if you’re reading one of my books, someone along the way is going to screw up, maybe so much if they were a real person you’d have to slap them and say “WTF ARE YOU DOING!” (But remember, lads and lasses, they’re not real!)

Gilly Soloman makes some very bad choices, and she pays the price.

Todd Blauch, the man who gives her just what she thinks she wants — to be taken away — has made some bad choices along the way too. Taking Gilly is just the last in a long string of choices that have gone wrong for him. And sadly, Todd also has to pay the price for a lot of things that he did wrong…and a lot of things that weren’t his fault at all.

Todd and Gilly don’t exist in a vacuum. They have pasts that haunt them, people in their lives who made bad decisions too, which have directly led to both of them being where they are now. Because life is The Song That Does Not End, a song with many verses (some of them repeating over and over again until you can’t stand it any longer!). It’s also a puzzle with a lot of pieces and no box lid to help you put them all in place.

Now it’s time for me to get to work on my current book, and it’s also about people who make bad choices, and some good ones, and about how everything in their lives leads them to one place that isn’t maybe the best place for them but it’s where they are, and so they  have to deal with it.

Have a great weekend, everyone, and if you pick up a copy of Precious and Fragile Things, I thank you!

M

So, yesterday I wrote 5,000 words, which was my goal. It was pretty painless. Scrivener has a nifty tracker that can be used to track progress. I liked that a lot. I haven’t figured out all the bells and whistles yet, I need to read the manual. But I don’t know if I’ll be using them all. Then again, maybe I’ll LOVE THEM!

The downside is that I still need to use Word to submit and edit manuscripts to and from my publishers. So…having Scrivener isn’t really…necessary? I guess. But so far writing on it seems interesting and has some cool features. Not sure I love it. Wish I did. Hope I do.

In other news, I have another goal of 5K words today and it doesn’t look good. I had a delivery of my new sexy fridge and also a plumber here to fix some leaky faucets (not such a sexy thing, those leaky faucets) — so I’ve had to deal with all the hullabaloo. I still have to put everything back inside my fridge and clean the whole kitchen. I really should clean behind the washer/dryer too while they’re pulled out from the wall. Oh, and there’s the laundry.

See what a glamorous life I lead?

But I digress. The new book is due in March and the first 5,222 words came pretty easily. I hope I can find that sweet spot, keep up the pace, today and for the rest of the month. It makes my life so much easier when I like what I’m writing!

There’s a certain freedom in writing something different — I don’t feel so tied down to chapter lengths or POV switches or tense choices. I sort of just go with whatever happens. Also, writing a book that’s not a romance means there’s a whole different shift in the focus. A book that’s not erotic, same thing. Sometimes I think, where will I find the words? Where do they come from?

But usually, there they are.

It’s important to remember that you can always edit bad words; you can’t fix no words.

So today I’m writing words. (Sing that to the tune of my new favorite song by my new boyfriend, Enrique.)

SO TODAY I’M WRITING WORDS!

SO TODAY I’M WRITING WORDS!

Oh, oh, you know!

So, yesterday I wrote 5,000 words, which was my goal. It was pretty painless. Scrivener has a nifty tracker that can be used to track progress. I liked that a lot. I haven’t figured out all the bells and whistles yet, I need to read the manual. But I don’t know if I’ll be using them all. Then again, maybe I’ll LOVE THEM!

The downside is that I still need to use Word to submit and edit manuscripts to and from my publishers. So…having Scrivener isn’t really…necessary? I guess. But so far writing on it seems interesting and has some cool features. Not sure I love it. Wish I did. Hope I do.

In other news, I have another goal of 5K words today and it doesn’t look good. I had a delivery of my new sexy fridge and also a plumber here to fix some leaky faucets (not such a sexy thing, those leaky faucets) — so I’ve had to deal with all the hullabaloo. I still have to put everything back inside my fridge and clean the whole kitchen. I really should clean behind the washer/dryer too while they’re pulled out from the wall. Oh, and there’s the laundry.

See what a glamorous life I lead?

But I digress. The new book is due in March and the first 5,222 words came pretty easily. I hope I can find that sweet spot, keep up the pace, today and for the rest of the month. It makes my life so much easier when I like what I’m writing!

There’s a certain freedom in writing something different — I don’t feel so tied down to chapter lengths or POV switches or tense choices. I sort of just go with whatever happens. Also, writing a book that’s not a romance means there’s a whole different shift in the focus. A book that’s not erotic, same thing. Sometimes I think, where will I find the words? Where do they come from?

But usually, there they are.

It’s important to remember that you can always edit bad words; you can’t fix no words.

So today I’m writing words. (Sing that to the tune of my new favorite song by my new boyfriend, Enrique.)

SO TODAY I’M WRITING WORDS!

SO TODAY I’M WRITING WORDS!

Oh, oh, you know!