Happy Almost Spring from North Texas! I’m Liberty Ireland – Book Wrangler, Aspiring Author, and Super Mom and Wife. I’m so grateful Delilah gave me the reins for the day and I’m glad to meet y’all!
I find that whether we are a reader, reviewer or author, one thing binds us all together – our great love of reading books. I can remember my parents reading to me at bedtime, my Mom always taking us to the library for their Summer Reading fun and choosing a family book to read on road trips. As a teen, I’d leave my door open while doing homework so I could hear my Mom read Tales of a Fourth Grade Nothing to my brother. I excelled in English throughout my schooling because of my reading and fell madly in love with Rhett Butler, Shakespeare, Atticus Finch and the like. Right about then I discovered Romances and Fabio but somewhere along the way of becoming an adult, reading became less and less of an escape and priority for me.
Eventually, along came Stephanie Meyer and Edward and Becca Fitzpatrick and Patch to whom I will be forever grateful for reinstilling in me that passion for reading. Now I read almost exclusively Romance with many favorite subgenres ranging from Historical to Western to Romantic Suspense to Dark and Twisty. I have hundreds of favorite authors and have learned that I have several favorite tropes as well. I have even rediscovered my desire to be an author.
What about you, Dear Reader? How did you become a reader and/or what are some of your favorites?
Leave an answer below, and on March 21st I’ll choose a random winner of a $10 Amazon or B&N gift card (US only)
From the unedited Prologue of my WIP:
…Jake took a deep breath and knew he had to follow through on what he’d planned. Coming over here today was for the last time. He knew how hurt she’d be when she discovered his deceit and that he wasn’t coming back but it was for the best. Her heart would heal in time and she would find someone who could give her all the things she deserved – a stable home life, a man that worshipped the ground she walked on and a bunch of kids just as beautiful as her.
She stirred as he leaned over and kissed her. He tenderly watched her as she relaxed again into a deeper slumber then he eased up off the quilt she’d
put down for them. As he put his shirt and boots back on, he knew he was doing the right thing. It just sucked that he had to hurt her in order to do it.
He trudged through the rain to his truck and started it up. He pulled his phone out of his pocket and hit redial.
“Mr. Sanders? Jake Peterson. I wanted to let you know that if your offer is still open, I’d love to join the PBR tour. Yes sir, I can leave right after I grab my trailer and put my horse in it. Yes, I know where that is. Okay, I’ll see you there.”
Jake hung up and put the truck in gear. He looked up to where his Panda was sleeping. “Go on and live your life Sugar, the way it is meant to be lived.”
He kissed his fingers and blew it in her direction then he slowly pulled out.
A. Catherine Noon here, author and textile artist. Thank you so much to Delilah for hosting me today! I’m glad to be back.
I don’t know about you, but the pace of life seems much faster than it ever has before. And I’m definitely struggling with burnout.
This beautiful boy above is a golden eagle, who lives at the Northwest Trek wildlife preserve in Washington State. He’s got a problem with his wings, but he’s fierce and beautiful.
One of the suggestions for recovering from burnout is rest. I’m not sure I have any suggestions for how to rest, but the zoo is one of my experiments. I left my ringer off for the visit, though I did use my camera on the phone for a few shots. For the most part, though, I tried playing with my digital SLR camera, a Nikon CoolPix.
My next experiment is to take a course on Bluprint in Digital Photography, so I can get better at using the camera.
For most of the day yesterday, I didn’t think about anything besides wandering around the wildlife preserve with my husband. I didn’t worry about politics, work, or any of the stressors that plague daily life.
If you are reading this and have suffered any kind of trauma or major stressors, know this: you are not alone. Resting is not a weakness, and getting help is not stupid. Mental health is health, and we need to end the stigma. And writers are as prone as anyone to having challenges with mental health. The frustrating thing for me is that I’m at the point now where my personal issues are not reached by words, by writing. They’re deeper, pre-verbal. Image-based.
And so, I play with my camera and fiddle around with collage. I remember Delilah talking about her doodling, and I’ve watched that avidly. It seems like a fun way to engage some of the same parts of the brain.
What about you, Dear Reader? What are some of your favorite ways to de-stress?
“It takes courage to grow up and become who you really are.”
– E.E. Cummings
It’s release day!! Yes, my story, Brian released yesterday—but not because I was trying to get out ahead of everybody else. I was simply calendar-challenged when I selected my date. I thought I’d chosen a Tuesday. Which is really kind of stupid, because KDP gives you a little calendar to look at when you choose your date, but I had the 24th in my brain, so the 24th it would be.
Anyways, lots of great books to celebrate today: Mine (ahem, Brian), my sister Elle Jame’s (SEAL’s Vow), and the one I’m featuring here today, written by my friend and fab author, Reina Torres!
From Fab Friend & Author Reina Torres
Part of the challenge of setting a Romance in the early 1970s was giving it a different feel from the modern-day. The book didn’t qualify as a “historical” in the book sense, but since I was setting it back almost fifty years in the past, there were certain things that brought me back into the early 70s: Clothes and Music.
Clothes were fun: terrycloth, corduroy, denims—and all the fun that went along with those fabrics.
Music was a little more of a challenge…
I was born in 1973, and my mother has often told me that I sang before I spoke. I’m guessing she means in complete phrases or sentences, but she just repeats the same stories over and over. My mom and dad both worked for the United States Postal Service, so I think you can safely say that I’m a Postal Child. 🙂
My dad worked the day shift, and my mom worked the graveyard shift. So when my dad headed off in the morning to go to work, he’d put me in the passenger seat (remember, it’s the 70s), laid back and wrapped up in my favorite blanket. He’d put the radio on for the drive into downtown Honolulu, heading straight to the post office where my mother worked. She’d get in the driver’s seat, and my dad would climb in the back, and we’d drop him off at work before my mom turned toward home.
I’d doze the way there and back, singing to the radio the entire time to songs like this one…
When I started writing Jesse, I did a little brainstorming on the earliest songs I could remember, and then came the reality check while going through the songs and checking to see which ones were in the right time period and which came after 1973-1974. With a couple of “oops” choices, I actually managed to put together a list of songs that helped take me back in time.
Much like Richard Collier in the movie Somewhere in Time, surrounding myself with the music of the era helped take me back in time for the book. So, I hope you’ll enjoy a little trip back in time to see how Jesse Sutton and Etta Bradford met and fell in love.
The rest of the series will be the stories of their children as they continue The Suttons – An American Legacy.
The instant he said it, he tensed, expecting to feel her hand across his cheek.
When she didn’t, he gave her a curious look, doubling down on his stupidity, and a moment later he wished that she had cracked him across his jaw. It would have been better than the way her expression crumbled as she took a step back, breaking the hold he had on her hand, and her shoulders sagged.
He was an ass. That was clear.
What he needed to do was apologize.
Quickly.
But all the words he needed to say were stuck somewhere in the back of his mind along with the sense that should have helped him keep his mouth shut in the first place.
“I’ve been kissed before!”
What?
That wasn’t what he asked.
Not by a long shot.
But, then again, her answer was just as telling.
He wasn’t just an ass. He let his mouth get way ahead of his brain. A fucking stampede ahead of the stage.
“I’m not talking about the playground, Etta. I’m talking about a kiss.” His voice had dipped dangerously low, vibrating through him like a tuning fork and making him just as hard.
He took a step closer.
Etta countered by taking a step back. They danced that way across the sidewalk until he knew he had her exactly where he wanted her.
Against the wall.
She knew it too. Her palms flattened against the wall at her sides and her shoulders pushed back. She raised her gaze up to meet his as if she was trying to tell him that she wasn’t nervous, but he saw the way her breathing shallowed, her skin flushed, and her lips parted as he moved even closer.
And he continued until the toes of his boots were almost nudging the tips of her shoes. He raked his gaze up over her feet, the hem of her dress, over the tantalizing rise and fall of her breasts and back up along the flushed skin of her chest, neck, and face.
He lifted a hand and gently touched her cheek. “First,” he smiled at her, “one, or both people, have to move their nose out of the way. So, we’ll go with both here.” He put the tiniest bit of pressure on her cheek and tilted her head a little bit. “Next, we’ll keep teeth out of it, unless you want to bite a lip… that could be fun.”
She swallowed and he swore he could hear the soft sound echoing off the thick concrete walls. “Is that all?”
“All?”
Etta nodded, but he didn’t see the motion, he could only feel it against his fingertips. “The rules?”
The corner of his mouth lifted and he leaned in closer, bracing his free hand on the wall just above her shoulder. “Those aren’t rules, Etta. Just a few things to make it easier.”
“Easier?” She echoed the word with a tight, breathy voice. “I don’t know.”
“You don’t,” he sighed and trailed the hand against her cheek into her hair, enjoying the feeling of it against his skin, “but I’m going to show you.”
She blinked up at him. “Okay.”
If she didn’t stop looking at him like a sacrificial lamb, he was going to lose his mind.
“There’s a time and place for hard kisses, sweetheart.”
Etta nodded as if she was making a note in her head. So beautiful and if he was any judge, innocent in so many ways.
“But tonight,” he moved closer until his lips were close enough to hers to feel the heat of her skin, “we’re going to start with gentle.”
“Gentle…” her lips were so damn close and he could hear the curious plea in her tone, “okay.”
He couldn’t wait another moment. He touched his lips to hers and felt her tense. He waited until her body eased into the sensation before he moved away.
Her eyes fluttered open. And she looked into his eyes as her brow pinched ever so slightly.
He smiled at the curious question he saw in her eyes. “What is it, Etta?”
She swayed closer. “Was that… all?”
“You want more?”
She opened her lips to answer and he swept in to kiss her again. Press in closer until he could feel the way her lips pressed back against his. Plump. Plush. Made for this. Made for him.
Contest
Pick your favorite song from my list above, and I’ll select a random person to win a download of Jesse!
I love Richard Rogers and Oscar Hammerstein II musicals. I grew up watching them as movies on television. While not all their storylines have held up over time, I’m still moved by songs like “Something Wonderful”, “You’ll Never Walk Alone” and “You’ve Got To Be Carefully Taught”. I am grateful to this prolific team for their heartfelt lyrics and beautiful music, but my deepest thanks goes to R&H for introducing me to Juanita Hall.
Growing up in the sixties, I hungered for images of Black women on the silver screen whom I could name and admire. R&H let me see a Black actress strut her stuff in some of the earliest examples of casting without regard to race.
Hall had been performing on Broadway since 1930. She even took a turn at directing in 1936. By the time R&H cast her in 1949’s South Pacific, she’d performed in no less than eight Broadway plays including Green Pastures and St. Louis Woman. R&H decided they needed someone with the voice and acting chops to bring the character of the Pacific Islander Bloody Mary to life. Juanita Hall filled the bill. She reprised the role in the 1958 film, although I have to listen to the original Broadway cast album to hear her sing “Bali H’ai”. In 1958, R&H used her in a second instance of casting despite race. She created the role of Madame Liang in Flower Drum Song. Hall recreated her role for the movie in 1961.
For a Black kid growing up in the East New York section of Brooklyn, knowing this Black woman wouldn’t be pigeonholed because of her race was inspirational. I like to think there’s a bit of Hall in One Breath Away‘s Mary Hamilton, a woman hemmed in by society’s expectations, but with the potential to break through them if given the chance. Besides her stage and film career, Hall cut albums, performed in nightclubs and directed choruses and choirs. You can learn more about her here: https://www.blackpast.org/african-american-history/hall-juanita-1901-1968/.
Nowadays those movies are critiqued for not hiring someone of Pacific Islander or Chinese background to play these roles, and rightly so. It hurts to see someone not of your race or ethnicity representing you. Boys and girls of all races need role models in whom they can see themselves and be proud of the way I was able to see myself in and be proud of Juanita Hall. I can’t ignore or minimize the wounding caused by casting a Black woman to portray someone of another race. The pros and cons of this “colorblind” approach are passionately debated. What I can do is celebrate that in 1949, by casting Hall in a musical whose plot revolves around race prejudice, R&H helped make Black History. Juanita Hall not only won the 1950 Tony for her role but, by doing so, became the first African American ever to win a Tony award.
One Breath Away
Sentenced to hang for a crime she didn’t commit, former slave Mary Hamilton was exonerated at literally the last gasp. She returns to Safe Haven, broken and resigned to live alone. She’s never been courted, cuddled or spooned, and now no man could want her, not when sexual satisfaction comes only with the thought of asphyxiation. But then the handsome stranger who saved her shows up, stealing her breath from across the room and promising so much more.
Wealthy, freeborn-Black, Eban Thurman followed Mary to Safe Haven, believing the mysteriously exotic woman was foretold by the stars. He must marry her to reclaim his family farm. But first he must help her heal, and to do that means revealing his own predilection for edgier sex.
“Because someone like you only looks at someone like me out of pity.”
Of course. His aunt put him up to this. Anger warmed Mary’s ears.
“Let me go.” She made to pull away. “I want to sit.”
“Please. Not before the music stops.” He timed his plea to the rhythm of the waltz. “I’ve waited all week for this moment.”
Mary gritted her teeth. Heart hurt joined her injured pride. She needed no one’s charity.
“That was cruel of you, sir. No one counts the days until they can ask me for a dance.” Tears pooled behind her closed eyelids. “Anyone in town could tell you that.”
The grip on her hand tightened, forcing her eyes open. The light in his gaze darkened. “Anyone who’d lie to me like that would be taking their life in their hands.” He leaned in so his mouth nuzzled her ear again. “And if you use that I’m-not-worthy tone of voice again, I’ll be forced to prove you wrong with a kiss.”
Alarm shuddered up Mary’s back. “Is—is that a threat?”
“A certainty.”
A chilly thrill replaced the alarm. She blew out a breath to steady herself. Threat or certainty, both treated her to a delicious revelation—she wanted that kiss. She eyed his lips, imagined their soft yet demanding press against hers. Once more the voice of caution repeated its warning.
Resist the devil, and he will flee from you.
Oh, to be forced to flee from such a devil as he. She sighed. What a wonderful problem to have.
Hello all and many thanks for Delilah for having me on her blog.
February is the month of love…and Valentine’s Day, and chocolate!
Did you know there’s a stimulant in chocolate called Theobromine (spell and/or say that twice) a bitter alkaloid found in cocoa and chocolate that affects the central nervous system to release endorphins for pleasure? Incidentally, it’s also the ‘cousin’ to my other favorite stimulant: caffeine. A match made in stimulant heaven.
Sign me up!
In the quaint town of Havenport Rhode Island, the fictional backdrop of my stories, there’s a shop and bakery called Led Zeppoli. In almost all of my stories, I mention the bakery’s famous chocolate croissants and exotic blends of coffee. Caffeine fuels my creative genius…well maybe not genius, but it certainly helps me come up with ideas and stay awake.
Led Zeppoli is a play on words between a certain famous four-member English rock group from the sixties and another decadent treat: the Italian zeppole. Ah yes, the zeppole, a fried dough cookie covered in massive amounts of powdered sugar.
Have you ever tried one? No? Well then get to getting because they are heaven in a greasy bag.
Where I grew up in Staten Island, NY was a popular pizza place called Pizza Town, which was located in walking distance from my high school. Besides the best pizza on the planet, Pizza Town sold zeppole and man, oh, man were they delicious. When you opened the white paper bag the powdered sugar puffed a white cloud of sweet goodness into your face.
Many days after school, I would “hang out” with friends at Pizza Town. It’s where I groused about homework and boys, prom dates, and how much Aquanet we put in our hair. Yes, it was the eighties after all. And it’s where I had many conversations with my high school crush who was tragically unaware of my deep-rooted feelings for him. Incidentally, we are still friends but sadly, the old building that was Pizza Town was torn down years ago.
Good memories, indeed.
What makes you get up and go? Coffee? Tea? Soda? All three have caffeine and I find the older I get the more I need something to help me start my day.
One lucky commenter will be chosen at random
and win a $10 Dunkin gift card.
Rescuing the Ranger
Now onto my latest release: The hero and heroine in my latest story, Rescuing the Ranger are Gabe Preston and Francesca Montefiore. Francesca grew up in Little Italy, NYC and now lives in Havenport and owns the florist shop. She loves the small town, which reminds her of the old neighborhood she left behind. When she volunteers her time to help write letters to the troops, she finds an unexpected connection to Havenport and one sexy, former Army Ranger, Gabe who’s in for a visit. And, when her past comes back to haunt her, Gabe comes to the rescue.
Here’s an excerpt to whet your appetite…
God, she hated making him feel any kind of stress. As much as this connection of theirs felt like a million bucks from the first correspondence, in her heart she knew it would cost him. Getting close to anyone again was dangerous. For him and for her.
How Pete had found her was anyone’s guess.
“Look, Gabe. You said it yourself, you’re decompressing after those tours of duty and I…” She stopped, shaking her head, wanting to warn him away. “I’ll destroy you.”
Her voice broke from exhaustion and worry and…damn it, caring and concern for him stuck in her throat. “My past will eventually annihilate this friendship we’ve built with our letters. It’s best if you don’t get mixed up in it, believe me. That’s one of the reasons I never sent you the email. You don’t deserve it.”
She felt compelled to warn him. Hell, he’d survived war as a Ranger, and she wasn’t about to be the person to bring him harm, not when Adele needed him.
His eyes widened before he let out a cynical laugh.
“You? Destroy me?” He crowded her, pushing her back and against the bedpost. His hands wound around her waist, but she couldn’t look up at him, so she fixated on the perfect vee between his pecks. “That’s not possible. My bike helmet weighs more than you.”
“Not physically,” she whispered. “Here, and here.” Frankie finally glanced up and traced his creased temple with her index finger before flattening her palm on his shirt above his heart. God, he was so solid. It would be easy to lean in and borrow his strength. “I know you went through something traumatic back in Afghanistan. I can tell. Those puckers on your hands feel like burns.” At her words, his face paled. “And, you don’t need more strife.”
He closed his eyes for a second and his jaw locked. “You’re so fucking sweet-natured.” He caressed the side of her cheek. She wanted to melt into his touch.
“Don’t you worry about me, and this isn’t just a friendship. You feel it. Don’t deny it. We’re good together, baby. And believe me, you can’t destroy me. Truth is—you kinda saved me.”
Get your copy of Rescuing the Ranger on Amazon. Available in Kindle Unlimited, too: https://amzn.to/2RstmrF
Have a fantastic February filled with love and lots of chocolate and coffee!
I’m not a big fan of winter. Never have been, which is odd considering I live in a place that gets more than its fair share of cold and snow. Winter starts early and stays late. The first snowfall was in November, and the past few weeks we’ve been buried in snow. Fans of outdoor winter sports are thrilled. Me, not so much.
So how does a glamorous writer stay warm while working? Layers, lots and lots of layers. I wear leggings (sometimes two pairs) and a long-sleeved shirt. (I favor turtlenecks.) Over that, I’ll put on a man’s oversized flannel shirt that falls past my thighs. Next comes the blanket, which I wrap around my waist like a sarong when I’m sitting in my chair writing but just throw over my legs when I’m on the couch reading. And let’s not forget the fingerless gloves. An absolute must this time of year. I cut quite a sexy figure.
But there are good things about being snowbound. It’s a great opportunity to watch movies or stream a new series on Netflix—Witcher was amazing! And, of course, it’s the perfect time to pour up a hot tea or hot chocolate (I’m not a coffee drinker, but to each their own) and pull out a good book.
It’s also a great time to launch a new series. And I have a paranormal one coming in March—Forgotten Brotherhood. Fury Unleashed is book one. This is one group of badass, paranormal assassins.
Fury Unleashed
Forgotten Brotherhood, Book One
Maccus Fury, a fallen angel, is trying hard to keep his sanity. Seems being an assassin might be catching up with him. Now, Heaven, or Hell, has sent a beautiful assassin to kill him. Lovely. She’s pretending to seduce him, and he’s okay with that. She’s smart and snarky—but she has no idea what she’s walked into. And he’s more than peeved that they only sent one person. They’re going to need an army if they want him dead.
Morrigan Quill is one of Hell’s bounty hunters. She sold her soul to keep her sister safe, and now she’s working off her contract by catching bad guys and dragging them back to hell. When Lucifer makes her a new offer—that’s definitely too good to be true—she can’t say no. All she has to do is kill a powerful and crazy-hot fallen angel, who will totally kick her ass in battle.
N.J. Walters is a New York Times and USA Today bestselling author who has always been a voracious reader, and now she spends her days writing novels of her own. Vampires, werewolves, dragons, time-travelers, seductive handymen, and next-door neighbors with smoldering good looks—all vie for her attention. It’s a tough life, but someone’s got to live it.
I LOVE fated to mate/instalove/love at first sight stories. They are the only romances I tend to write.
Why?
Because that is the only type of romantic love I’ve ever known. I fell in love with the Dear Wonderful Hubby at first sight and over twenty-five years later, we’re still very much in love.
I knew the moment I saw him that he was the man for me and that conviction only strengthened when I learned more about him. He felt the same way about me.
Reading about couples (or more) experiencing that knowing, making that soul-deep connection with an otherwise perfect stranger thrills me. What will they have in common? How will they overcome their differences? How long will they last before they act on their physical attraction?
That is all very exciting and I tend to turn the pages quickly to find out the answers.
I also love reunion romances. The couple (or more) connects and then, for some usually heartbreaking reason, they part. Years later, they reunite and fall in love all over again. They’re older, wiser, more appreciative of what they have and they don’t make the same mistakes this time. They make different ones. (grins)
The Dear Wonderful Hubby and I have never had to part for a long time, thankfully, but merely the prospect of that happening to us makes me emotional. I feel for the heroines and heroes in that type of situation.
In Warlord Reunited, the story I’ve released today, I’ve combined both of these tropes. Berke and Ellie, my barbarian alien hero and human bounty-hunting heroine, fell in love, at first sight, solar cycles ago. They had a passionate, life-changing yet much-too-brief affair. Berke then left Ellie on a distant planet and returned to his war-torn home.
Now, Ellie has returned to Berke’s home, determined to end her suffering (literally) and kill the only male she has ever loved. Their reunion is passionate and violent and full of conflict…because they ARE fated to mate and the time apart hasn’t changed that.
Which do you prefer to read—fated to mater/instalove/love at first sight stories OR reunion romances? What are some romances that combine these two tropes?
Warlord Reunited
This barbarian warrior’s cold demeanor hides the warmest of hearts…
Solar cycles ago, Berke, a savage Chamele Warlord, found his gerel, the one being he is destined to be with for all time…except he couldn’t embrace that fate. He was fighting a series of brutal wars.
To protect his little human female, he conveyed her far from the Chamele sector. He then returned to the endless battles, concealing his pain, his anguish, his need, under a thick layer of ice.
His gerel was safe. That was all that mattered to him.
When Elle was a young bounty hunter, she bonded with an arrogant warrior on a distant planet. She was deliriously happy…for a while. Then he dumped her in a strange settlement far from his home and left, never to return.
Their parting caused her excruciating pain—both physical and emotional. She endured it, earned the esteemed role of head bounty hunter of an academy, salvaged a bit of a life from the disaster her primitive warrior had made of it.
Now, two of her bounty hunters have made the same terrible mistake. Elle is determined to rescue her friends and break their connections with their Chamele Warlords.
While she is in the sector, she plans to kill the warrior she’d once considered hers. Elle is ending her relationship with Berke…permanently.
* * * Warlord Reunited is based on a much shorter story sharing the same title. It is a STANDALONE Alien Barbarian SciFi Romance, featuring a warrior hero and a take-charge heroine set in a dark, gritty, sometimes-violent universe.
USA Today bestselling author Cynthia Sax writes contemporary, SciFi and paranormal erotic romances. Her stories have been featured in Star Magazine, Real Time With Bill Maher, and numerous best of erotic romance top ten lists.
Hall had been performing on Broadway since 1930. She even took a turn at directing in 1936. By the time R&H cast her in 1949’s South Pacific, she’d performed in no less than eight Broadway plays including Green Pastures and St. Louis Woman. R&H decided they needed someone with the voice and acting chops to bring the character of the Pacific Islander Bloody Mary to life. Juanita Hall filled the bill. She reprised the role in the 1958 film, although I have to listen to the original Broadway cast album to hear her sing “Bali H’ai”. In 1958, R&H used her in a second instance of casting despite race. She created the role of Madame Liang in Flower Drum Song. Hall recreated her role for the movie in 1961.
February is the month of love…and Valentine’s Day, and chocolate!
I’m not a big fan of winter. Never have been, which is odd considering I live in a place that gets more than its fair share of cold and snow. Winter starts early and stays late. The first snowfall was in November, and the past few weeks we’ve been buried in snow. Fans of outdoor winter sports are thrilled. Me, not so much.
