On Co-Authoring

Co-authoring is something that I’d vaguely thought about, but never really in any great detail. That is, until, towards the back end of 2012, my good friend and fellow writer Lily Harlem suggested co-authoring something together. I explained I had a few projects on, so I couldn’t start right away, but I would definitely be interested. She was busy too, so we said we’d start in the early part of 2013, when all the Christmas and New Year festivities were over and done with, and life was back to normal.

The writing bug bit Lily, however, and in December she sent me a chapter that had just come to her, so she’d written it down. I managed to read it quickly, but knew I still wouldn’t be able to do anything with it until January. I was eager to try out co-authoring, but other commitments had to take priority.

Then 2013 arrived. I’d cleared my commitments and was free to start something new – hurrah! I read the chapter again and then bombarded Lily with a million and one questions about the process of co-authoring, how she thought it would work, our intended publisher, and so on. I was very lucky in that a) Lily had co-authored many times before so knew how it worked b) she was very, very patient with me and answered all my questions c) that our writing styles are quite similar, so that although we wrote from separate character viewpoints, our respective sections would still fit together well and d) we know each other well enough to give constructive and honest feedback that will be truly helpful, rather than trying to sugar coat anything for the sake of being nice.

And so we began. The chapter Lily had written back in December was from the female perspective and I was happy to write from the male perspective. I’ve done it many times before and enjoy it very much. We’d already agreed that if things didn’t work out, we wouldn’t worry too much about it, so I opened the document and began to write without thinking too hard. We had no plan, no idea what on earth the book was going to be about, really, just that it would be an erotic romance. Despite this, the words came. Fast.

After writing a chapter of roughly the same length as Lily’s, I skim read it and sent it back to her. And thus the mad email exchange began. Prior to this project I’d only written one full-length novel by myself and found it a learning curve, albeit it a fun and very satisfying project, but often I had to force myself to carry on and not procrastinate. With this book, however, it was totally different. It was full of surprises – because we hadn’t planned it, the chapters we sent back to one another were a total surprise, and we both had to think on our feet to work out where the plot would go next. We’d agreed not to rush one another for chapters as we both had other things on, too, and although we didn’t pressure one another, we still produced the words at lightning speed (for me, anyway!). I grew eager to read Lily’s next chapter, to see where the characters – which I’d quickly grown very fond of – would go next, what they would do. There was very, very little procrastination! None, really. Just lots of use of Google Street View.

The only thing we’d really planned was that the book would be longer than 50,000 words – to make it novel length. We did discuss how it would end, but never made a set decision, we just decided to keep writing and hope it came to a natural conclusion. We agreed that because Lily had written the first chapter, that I would write the last. That was the only time throughout the project that I felt pressure – and it was from myself, not my co-author. I had to write the last chapter, therefore the ending, therefore it had to be good, and satisfying! I put my fingers to the keys of my laptop and hoped that what came out would be good. When I finished the final chapter I read it again and made tweaks, then decided that no benefit would come of me staring at it – so I sent it to Lily. And waited with bated breath for her reply. Read the rest of this entry »

Friday the 13 – scary or just like any other day?

My pen name was supposed to be blogging today about her erotic paranormal short story collection but I muscled in because it’s Friday the 13th! A day synonymous with horror, especially the series of movies by the same name, and my current release is a horror short story.

I love Friday the 13th. Weird, I know, since most people stay away from anything with 13 in it. But I was born on the 13th. And I do love horror movies. And when the 13th happens on a Friday I want to cozy up on the sofa with my fiancé, with a big bowl of popcorn, the lights turned off so the only light is the flickering of the images on the TV, and watch a few of the Friday the 13th movies. I loved the first one. Really liked the second one too. They were still sort of fresh back then. And slightly (slightly) plausible. The killer in both had a believable motive for killing over-sexed camp counselors. With each sequel they just got ridiculous though. But still, I watched them. Because if there’s something better than a really good horror movie, it’s a really bad horror movie. 

Although I’m against remakes (there are too many brilliant new screenwriters trying to break in to be reusing old material) I did watch the remake of Friday the 13th. And no it wasn’t just because Jared Padalecki was in it. Okay, well maybe it was a little because of that.  😀  But I did want to see how they redid the franchise and if they could breathe some new life into the movies. I was disappointed. Of course if a franchise is working, Hollywood will keep making movies so eventually there will be a Friday the 13th Part 13. Do I think it will be horrible? Yes. Will I watch it anyway? Of course. 🙂

What about you? Do you like horror movies? Will you be watching any of the Friday the 13th movies tonight?

My current release isn’t a Friday the 13th wannabe but it is about a group of friends who end up in the wrong place and end up fighting for their lives.

Stay away from the mirrors

A road trip without a plan sounded like a good idea when Lena and her friends hit the road. A mini vacation and support for Steve, recently dumped, have the friends travelling through small towns and back roads. After hours of driving in the heat in a cramped car they’re all ready for something to eat and a good night’s rest.

Reflections Inn looks perfect for the group of friends. Though a little run down, it hides a supernatural horror.

Don’t read the curse

Everything looks normal when they check in, except an old woman yelling about a curse. Intrigued, some of the friends decide to investigate. Some stay behind and learn about the curse first hand.

Run

A curse that replaces people with their repressed alter egos forces the friends to fight for their lives. And they realize they didn’t know each other as well as they thought.

Buy Link:

Buy on Amazon | Barnes and Noble | Kobo | Amazon Canada

Check out my website: https://www.cindycarroll.com
Follow me on Twitter: https://www.twitter.com/CindyPCarroll
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About Cindy: Cindy Carroll is a member of Sisters in Crime and a graduate of Hal Croasmun’s screenwriting ProSeries. Her interviews with writers of CSI and Flashpoint appeared in The Rewrit, the Scriptscene newsletter, the screenwriting Chapter of RWA. She writes screenplays, thrillers, and paranormals, occasionally exploring an erotic twist. A background in banking and IT doesn’t allow much in the way of excitement so she turns to writing stories that are a little dark and usually have a dead body. She lives in Ontario, Canada with her fiancé and three cats. When she’s not writing you can usually find her painting landscapes in oil or trying space paintings with spray paint.

Inspiration in the Details

Before setting down to get my blog on, I took a quick Q&A on my Facebook page.  Turns out people were curious about two things.  My obvious doggy love and where my inspiration comes from.

Since I aim to please, I thought we’d discuss both topics.  In my debut release, Morning Light, we meet Bo.  A yellow Labrador our heroine Tennyson has rescued.  When I sit down with a character, I like to develop them into someone I’d actually be friends with.  All of my favorite heroes and heroines are people I’d actually like to know, and I use this rule of thumb when writing them as well.  Also, if Jim Butcher is reading this, I’d really like to meet Harry Dresden—just sayin’.

Tenn is a likeable chick; she’s downright awesome, and I certainly didn’t need to work hard to make her more likeable.  She was a fully formed heroine from the moment she popped into my head.  More importantly Tenn has a heart of gold, she’s certainly the type of woman that would feed and rescue an abandoned dog.

When Bo arrived on the page, I knew Tenn would take him in and love and pamper him.  Abandoned and neglected pets are my weak spot.  Ask my husband, he’ll tell you all about how I’m a total sucker for a needy animal.  He likes to grumble, but when it comes down to it he’s the one on the floor wrestling and rough housing with them.  He’s all bluster.  With four dogs ranging in size from one hundred ten pounds all the way down to eleven, he’s quite the expert at my soft spot.

When we bought our home, many moons ago, it was a matter of a few measly days before I came home with my very own yellow Lab mix.  No furniture to speak of, freshly painted walls, and a brand new puppy.  We named him Truman and he’s still kicking, just a bit slower than he used to in those early days.  He’s a rock star.  And I’m totally biased.

But there’ll be a day he’s not with us and I’ll be a heartbroken disaster.  So, when the time came to write a big oaf of a Lab into my very first book, it only made sense that Truman would be my inspiration.  I mean, really, it wasn’t even a conscious decision.  He’s just that awesome.

I loved Bo so much in the first book that he’s making quite the appearance in the second in the series.  I also have it on good authority that he’ll be around in book three.

And you can expect to see appearances from my other three heathens some day too.  With a chocolate Lab mix that looks like she’s part brown bear-beaver, a Husky mix that outweighs every other dog in the house, and a little runt Doxie that’s all big dog attitude, I’ll never run out of inspiration for fun dog characters.

We might be maxed out on rescues at our house, but that doesn’t mean I don’t love a good pet story.  Leave a comment telling me all about your pet(s) and their personalities and I’ll give away one free ebook of Morning Light to a lucky reader!  Contest will end September 14^th at midnight and the winner will be randomly chosen and announced the next day.

You can find me at: www.coracade.com or join me on Facebook at: www.facebook.com/CoraCade.

*****

His toughest battle is ahead—the battle for one woman’s heart.

A Day of Pleasure, Book 1

During Noah Harper’s ten years as an Army Ranger, Tennyson Sharpe’s letters were his lifeline. With each mail call, the bright and vibrant girl of his youth slowly became the woman of his dreams.

Now he’s home—and he’s in hell. The problem? Tenn is his little brother’s best friend. Claiming her risks all kinds of collateral damage.

Tenn is getting nervous. Since Noah came home, they’ve been circling each other, neither willing to risk the status quo. It’s time to kick things up a notch and make a play for the man she’s loved since she was sixteen—before someone else does.

Dressing to impress works better than she could have dreamed. After a scorching interlude leads to a steamy morning wrapped in each other’s arms, reality comes crashing down. Shining a devastating light on Tenn’s deepest fears…and forcing Noah into scramble mode to convince her forever was always on his mind.

Warning:  This book contains some serious foreplay in the great outdoors; stand-up sex with a hot, stand-up guy; and a wounded Army Ranger who’s determined to leave no heart behind—especially the one belonging to the girl of his dreams.

Hello, and a huge thank you to Delilah for hosting me! I’m KJ Charles, and my paranormal romance The Magpie Lord is just out with Samhain. The book is set in Victorian England and —

Excuse me? Victorian England? I came here for erotic romance!

Are you suggesting the Victorians aren’t sexy?

Bonnets? Top hats? Frilly bloomers on their piano legs? That is not sexy.

Did you know that Victorian women could go to the doctor for an orgasm?

Say what?

True. Women suffering from ‘hysteria’, a catch-all diagnosis for being overwrought, emotionally unstable or (as we’d see it) frustrated, could go to the doctor, who would induce a ‘hysterical paroxysm’ to relieve the symptoms. Guess what a hysterical paroxysm is?

You are having a laugh.

Nope. The electric vibrator was invented because doctors complained of repetitive strain injuries to their hands. (‘How was work, dear?’ ‘Exhausting. I had to induce fourteen clitoral orgasms. My fingers are killing me.’ ‘That’s outrageous! You should complain to your boss!’)

Tell me more.

About the Femme de Voyage blow-up doll, perhaps? Or the Victorian obsession with spanking? Go on, ask your local library for a copy of Victorian bestsellers Lady Bumtickler’s Revels or The Whippingham Papers. Or, if you have your m/m kink on, try Sins of the Cities of the Plain, the earliest English gay porn, which includes your actual fan-fiction of a famous real-life transvestite and his noble husband…

All right, you’ve convinced me. The Victorians were as kinky as the rest of us. Carry on.

Thank you.

The Magpie Lord is an m/m paranormal romance, featuring Lord Crane, a smuggler turned earl, and magician Stephen Day, who has every reason to loathe Crane’s family. Stephen has a moral obligation to save Crane from a curse but he does not want to find himself in the devastatingly attractive nobleman’s bed – and in the excerpt below, he’s even ready to abuse his magical gifts to stop himself from giving in to temptation.

I hope you enjoy it! The Magpie Lord is out now with Samhain, and I’ve a free electronic copy to give away – please just comment, ensuring you leave an email address, for a chance to win. (Drawing closes Thursday!)

The shaman knelt before him in the moonlight, painfully close. At some point, Crane wasn’t sure when, he’d moved so that his arms were now resting on Crane’s thighs, warm and heavy. His hair glimmered dark copper in the cold light, and his caressing thumb was sending spangles of sensation up towards Crane’s elbow now.

Crane looked down at him. As if he’d felt the gaze, Stephen looked up, mouth slightly open, and his wide eyes met Crane’s for a long breathless moment.

Crane reached out with his free hand and brushed his thumb slowly over Stephen’s lips, pushing them gently apart, feeling his mouth move softly, opening, accepting the touch. His breath came fast against Crane’s hand. Crane’s need was suddenly, violently urgent after the night’s terror, and Stephen Day was kneeling before him, lips inviting, pupils dilated, a gift to be unwrapped. He pushed his thumb further into the warm mouth and felt a flicker of tongue against his skin, a tentative taste.

“Stephen,” said Crane softly, trying out the name.

Stephen tilted his head back a little. “I…I don’t…”

“Oh, you do.” Crane stroked his fingers possessively over the small chin. “You really do. Lovely boy.”

“I’m twenty-eight,” Stephen said weakly, and Crane’s lips curved, knowing that was surrender.

His hand closed on Stephen’s jaw, pulling him closer. “Come here. Unless you want to stay on your knees, of course,” he added, with a twitch of a brow, and something in the other man’s eyes went suddenly dark.

“Listen to me,” Stephen said. “I have been clearing the abreaction for the last few minutes. This has been dull and uneventful, and you’re keen to go in and do something more interesting than talk to me. I’m very boring and drab and unattractive, after all, and you’d be much happier talking to Mr. Merrick. You want to forget about me and go in, so you’re quite glad to hear that the abreaction has cleared.”

“Has it?” said Crane. “Oh, good. Can we go in?”

“Of course,” mumbled Stephen. He leaned backwards, shifting his bony elbows off Crane’s legs. The moonlight greyed his rather dull, mud-coloured eyes and nondescript features. He looked drawn and tense, almost distressed. Crane didn’t know why.

Please comment for a chance to win The Magpie Lord (or if you want to chat about Victorian kink!) Click on the cover to learn more about the story!

Hi Everyone! Thank you, Delilah, for having me on your blog today. I really appreciate it.

So, I’m a big city girl… I was born in El Paso, Texas and I now live in Phoenix. I don’t think I’ve ever lived in a small town.

There is a neighborhood I lived in from 1990-1994 that holds some of my favorite memories.  That was one of my favorite places to live, and it was hard moving away from there when we did.  What I remember and love the most about living there was our sense of community. Our next door neighbor became the neighborhood grandmother to everyone. She and my mom were always talking, so one of us was always at her house or she came over to ours. I’m fortunate that to this day I still get to talk to her, and when I go back to El Paso to visit, she’s always on the list. She was one of the first people to read my writing, when in 1993, her granddaughter passed away from spinal meningitis. She was only two and a half, and it hit me hard, so I wrote a poem.

Anyway, on that street we looked out for one another. We were there for tough times in life, and there for fun. There were quite a few neighborhood kids that my sister, brother and I befriended and had plenty of fun and games with.  It’s like we were all a big family, even though we weren’t blood related.

I miss those days.

I don’t know many of my neighbors here. I know the ones beside us on each side, and there’s a lady a couple houses down that apparently likes to stick her nose in everyone else’s business.  I don’t hear kids playing.  I want the kind of community that I grew up in for my son to play in.

I loved that street so much I wrote a memory book about it. It’s in one of those one subject notebooks, all handwritten, tucked away in my memory box. When we go visit El Paso, my husband drives me past all my old houses (Yes, we moved around quite a bit), and it’s just so different from what I remember. I close my eyes and see us having scooter races down the street, or throwing snowballs when it actually snowed, to making a snowman in our neighborhood grandmother’s front yard.

I needed to be able to re create that same sense of community. That’s why I created the fictional town of Harmony’s Echo, Texas in my Love and Music in Texas books. It’s just a small little off the highway town, but it’s a place that feels like home for my characters. And when I’m writing in that world, I feel like I’ve been taken back to memories of my own childhood.

So far a lot of the story is centered around the inn, where Avery Callimer was found as a baby. Her adoptive parents run the inn and there are always new guests coming in. There are a few new strangers in town in the Baby Stetson band, one of them being Lucas Bennett, the man that Avery can’t seem to stop thinking about.  Very quickly Lucas learns the ways of a small town community. He’s moved around so many times and has never really felt at home anywhere, except for Harmony’s Echo.

In Book 2, The Melody In My Head, Melody Roland also learns quickly about this little town. She’s from a small Colorado town herself, but she can’t go back there now. She meets Jameson and Lucas the first night she ends up stranded and while she doesn’t think she’ll ever feel safe, there’s something about quiet little Harmony’s Echo that calls to her…not to mention Jameson, the guitar player who has his own struggles but puts them aside to help her.

Even though the Baby Stetson band has big city dreams of making it in the country music business, they all know their small town roots and love them. Just as I love my version of a small town. That’s what it feels like to me.

Thanks for reading and letting me share my story with you today.

This is Book 2 in the Love and Music in Texas series. Baby Stetson kicks off the series.

Welcome back to Harmony’s Echo, Texas…..

Melody Roland is on the run from the one person she trusted completely. One who hid a dark past she could never have imagined. When a pregnant woman on the bus she’s fleeing on goes into labor, Melody rushes to her aide. Now she finds herself stranded in a tiny remote town just off the highway, with no way to her original destination.

She’s alone, on edge, and unsure who to trust. Her instincts scream to get far away and fast. But how and where?

Jameson Grant struggles through the roughest year of his life. Suffering from the loss of his father, one grief stricken night, he made a mistake. One which cost him the only woman he’s ever loved. Each lonely day he’s faced with the constant reminders of how quick things can change. Throwing himself into the one thing he has left, his music, helps dull the pain he fights to keep hidden. His last salvation begins to crumble as things spiral out of control and he has no choice but to face the ‘music’ of his past.

The last thing he needs or wants in his life is a woman with more trouble on her heels than the best of country music lyrics. But Melody sings a sirens call within him that can’t be ignored.

Jameson and Melody bond in ways stronger than either could have imagined, but one dangerous person from her past may threaten it all…

If she doesn’t flee before he can convince her to stay, and that some love songs last an eternity.

The door shut softly behind them. Jameson grabbed the lantern from the porch and held it out to Melody. “Here. Hold this. We’ll need a little bit of light.” She took it hesitantly from his hand. Jameson turned away and smiled.

Carefully holding the guitar case, Jameson climbed the ladder resting on the ride of the house. He should take it down, but until now, he’d forgotten about it. He set the guitar case at the edge of the roof, then glanced down at Melody. “Okay, hand me the blankets and the light.” He called to her. Stepping down a few rungs, he reached for the requested items.  Once on the roof, he peered back at her again.  “Come on up!”

“Jameson, what are we doing?” But she was laughing. When her head appeared at the top, he held out a hand to her, helping to ease her up onto the roof. He’d already set one blanket down for them to sit on. The other he brought for her in case she got cold.

“Getting a great view of the stars.” Jameson pointed.  One of the things he loved about living in a small town was being able to see the sky at night. One of the best views ever.  Melody settled next to him on the blanket, staring at the same direction.

“It’s beautiful. I can’t remember the last time I just stared at the stars.”

It had been awhile for him, too. But he knew when the last time he’d been up here.

Jameson set the lantern at the edge of the blanket and turned on the light. It was bright enough for them to see, but not too bright to ruin the view of the stars.  “Are you cold? If you are, I have an extra blanket.”  He pointed to it, next to the guitar case.  “The only thing I forgot to grab was something to drink.”

Melody laughed. “I’ll forgive you, you thought of everything else.”

He enjoyed the sound of her laugh.

Jameson shook that thought away and reached for his guitar.

“Do you do this often? Come up on the roof late at night with your guitar?”

“Not in some time.” Jameson held the guitar, pulling a pick out of the case and strummed a few chords. “Sometimes, I need a different environment other than the garage, you know? Nice thing is, there aren’t a lot of neighbors nearby, so I’m not disturbing anyone. “

“It is nice.” Melody mused, lying on her back. She crossed her arms behind her head.

Jameson started to play the chorus to a popular Taylor Swift song. He even sang along, raising his voice a few octaves to mimic the sound. Melody turned her head and laughed.

“I’m not sure that song fits your voice,” she teased. She rested her head on her elbow, now interested in watching him.

Jameson stopped mid-play. “No? Damn. Here I thought I was being all cool.”

That got another giggle out of her. “You are cool! Just…sing a different song.”

“All right, all right. I’ll find another song, since my Taylor impersonation isn’t appreciated.” Jameson pretended to pout, which made Melody laugh again. He was on a roll, and his plan worked. The mood had been lightened.  “Okay, how about this?”  He started to play and sing an older Shania Twain song.

Melody sat up, covering her mouth with her hand. He could see her body shaking as she tried to hold in her laughter. “You know, Jameson, that don’t impress me much, either.”

Pretending to be hurt, he put the guitar down. “What am I doing wrong?  Is my singing that bad? That’s a first. Usually, I win them all with these songs.”

“Oh Jameson. You’re so funny.”

“Okay, one last time, and hopefully third time will be the charm. Are you ready?”  Reaching for his guitar again, Jameson watched her as he started a new tune. This time, he played the tune to the song he’d been working on with her.   Even in the dim light, he noticed her face light up as he sang the first few lines from her song.

“You win, the third time is the charm. Now that fits your voice. Brava!” She clapped her hands.

“How about you sing it with me?”

“Oh, no. I don’t think so.”

“Oh come on. Let’s serenade the stars. Maybe we’ll catch one falling.” He pleaded. “It’s your lyrics. I’d love to hear from coming from your lips.”  As he started over on the guitar, he shot her what he hoped was his best pout.

“You’re relentless!” Melody exclaimed, raising her hands in defeat. She still smiled, though.

When Jameson got to the chorus, Melody chimed in. He had to force himself to keep going as he listened to her voice. She was pretty good! She had this soft, gentle ease about her voice. It didn’t ring out with a lot of power backing her up, but she had a sweet sound that radiated into his mind. He lowered his voice a little bit to let her shine. He couldn’t keep his eyes off her as he watched her lips move, and heard the words.

When they stopped, it was his turn to applaud. “You have a great voice. You sounded really good, Melody.”

He wasn’t sure, but he thought she was blushing. Melody turned away from him for a second.

“Thank you, Jameson. I’m not one for the spot light, but that was really neat to sing my own lyrics.”

“You know, we’re still looking for a song or two to add to our demo. I like this one a lot.  What would you think about  putting the finishing touches on it and playing it for the band?” As shy as she was about these things, would she even go for that? The words really were great, and he liked the melody he’d put to her words.

“I- are you serious?” She sounded caught off guard.

Jameson nodded, setting his guitar down once again. “I am. I like the way it’s progressing.  And when you sang with me just now, I liked the idea of having a back up on it. It would be a great addition.”

Buy Links:
Amazon Link | Barnes & Noble | Kobo

*****

Nikki Lynn Barrett lives in Arizona with her husband and son. She’s an avid reader, a dreamer, and loves everything about books. She runs a book blog, an online used bookstore, and writes various genres of romance. Nikki can also be found outside with her camera when a storm is near, snapping photo after photo. Her dreams of becoming a writer started when she was young, when she started writing books in one subject notebooks by the fifth grade. The Secret Santa Wishing Well is her debut book. You can visit Nikki’s site at: www.nikkilynnbarrett.blogspot.com for more information. She is working on her next book. Nikki would love to hear from readers. Email her at nikkilynnbarrett@yahoo.com.

I’m thrilled to be on talented author Delilah Devlin’s blog.

Real life affects my writing so today I’m going to talk about cheating. Infidelity is a big subject to tackle in a romance. When this happened in real life  to someone close to me, she described it as a piece of her heart had died. Not only was she in pain but so were her family and friends who grieved with her. What I didn’t expect was for my real life friend to get back together with her husband. Could she ever really forgive her cheating husband? I spent so much time trying to help my friend pick up the pieces I ended up writing a fictional novel about it.

In novels, we authors get to make things right again, but it wasn’t easy for me as a writer to find a way for my character to forgive her cheating husband. I had to find a real reason as to why my character cheated on his wife. I also wanted to explore the idea of the wife living out her fantasy of an erotic affair with a younger man, once she had decided her marriage was over, so I had a lot of fun with this sexy fantasy. I hope you’ll enjoy it too.

Best,
Cathleen Ross
www.cathleenross.com

Family, friends, culture, and expectation clash in this heart-wrenching story of a broken marriage — and the battle to repair it.

Gabriella Vitadini thought she had the perfect marriage until her husband Tony stopped wanting her, and started wanting other women instead. Throwing him out of the house was the only thing she could do — how does she throw him out of her heart?

When a much younger man reminds her that she is still a desirable woman, Gabriella reminds herself that turnabout is fair play. But even a naughty fling can’t eject Tony from her thoughts. What happened to their happy marriage? Why did Tony turn away from her? And is there any hope that they can find true love again?

As Dave walked beside me, his hand kept brushing mine. I could feel the little hairs on his hands touching mine. Already a shiver passed up my arm. I was supposed to be selling him an apartment, but I couldn’t stop thinking about sex.

When we arrived at the Temple, we took the elevator up to the apartment. “It’s good this time of morning. You’ll get to see the apartment in daylight.”

Dave stood close beside me, so that his leather jacket brushed my arm. I could smell his cologne, a mixture of spice and wood scent. The elevator door opened and we stepped out into the foyer and walked into the spacious living area.

“I already know I want it, Gabrrrriella. It is bellissima.”

“You do?”

“Si. I’ve looked already at many new apartments. This one is the best, no?”

I couldn’t believe it. There was a sale in front of me. A sale!

But Dave wasn’t looking around him at the view of the Harbour. Instead, he stood kissing distance away, looking straight into my eyes. “I want you in it. Last night I couldn’t sleep.”

My throat went dry. Dave bent and kissed me.

And what did I do?

I wrapped my arms around him like a woman starved of affection. Could I eradicate Tony from my life by being with Dave? I didn’t know, but I wanted to try. I should have been thinking about my sale, but Dave’s body was hard and lean and I so desperately wanted him inside of me. What woman wouldn’t want a man like Dave devoted to her?

*****

Where can you find the book?
https://www.amazon.com/Love-Lust-And-Lies-ebook/dp/B00EAEDY3W
https://www.escapepublishing.com.au/product/9780857990785

For the Love of the Game

When I fell in love with the romance genre I was a runty, asthmatic, bookish pre-teen who was so good at finding excuses to skip gym that at one point my attendance was so infrequent I got an ‘incomplete’ for the semester. I hated the competition, I hated the spherical objects flying at my head, and if you’d told me I would one day write a romance novel focused on sports, I would’ve laughed you out of the room.

Fast-forward a couple of decades, and guess what? On Monday, I celebrated the release of my debut, The Striker’s Chance – a contemporary sports romance.

It took me a decade and a half, but eventually I learned that romance and sports are a lot closer than they seem. I’d always had a passing interest in soccer, but when I moved to London in 2007 I saw the game like I never had before – through the eyes of hardcore British fans, including my soon-to-be husband. Have you ever watched a grown man go from excited chanting to furious swearing to joyful tears in the space of ninety minutes? At first I couldn’t understand why someone would enjoy what seemed like such a stressful experience – but then it occurred to me that it was not so different from investing hours into the fraught, burgeoning relationship between two fictional characters. I know the hero and heroine will get together, just like the sports fan knows that eventually the clock will count down to victory for someone – but it’s the journey that keeps us interested.

Now I understand how romance and sports go hand-in-hand. Whether it’s on the pitch or on the page, both are riddled with emotional highs and lows, both pivot on high-octane drama, and both are fuelled by a single, underpinning emotion: passion.

Are you a sports fan as well as a romance reader? Which sports are your favorites – and which do you avoid at all costs?

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In The Striker’s Chance romance and sports collide with scintillating results when Holly Taylor lands the PR contract for North Carolina’s new soccer team, an assignment with the potential to take her career to the next level. Her task? Make Kepler “Killer” de Klerk, an athlete with a party-hard reputation, a star. But revamping the sexy footballer’s image while battling her unwanted attraction to him is easier said than done. She finds herself falling for the real man behind the tabloid persona, but when she’s offered her dream job for a price, she’s torn between the career she’s spent years building and the man she doesn’t want to give up.

Rebecca Crowley inherited her love of romance from her mom, who taught her to at least partially judge a book by the steaminess of its cover. She writes contemporary romance and romantic suspense with smart heroines and swoon-worthy heroes, and never tires of the happily ever-after. Having pulled up her Kansas roots to live in New York City and London, Rebecca recently relocated to Johannesburg, South Africa.

Her debut contemporary sports romance, The Striker’s Chance, is available now from Carina Press.

Buy links:
Carina Press | Amazon | Amazon UK | ARe | Barnes & Noble | Audible