Enter to win a copy of the NTL Series ebook Box Set. It contains Books 1-3 in the Never Too Late series. Already have the books? Enter to win a copy for a friend. I'll give to whoever you like :)
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Where I get to talk about romantic comedy, writing, books, and life
Thursday, April 4, 2013
Thursday, March 28, 2013
NEVER TOO LATE Box Set Volume 1 Release
The NEVER TOO LATE Box Set 1 contains Books 1-3 of the Never
Too Late Series under one cover. Now you can find non-stop laughter and smiles without switching files on your ereader. Join Alexa, Regina, and Lauren as they discover that it’s truly never too late for love and romance.
I know most of you have already purchased these books, but this would be a good way to gift the beginning books in the series to friends. I'm in the process of releasing box sets in all the series.
DATING A COUGAR (Book 1)
At 50, Alexa Ranger has no intentions of dating 35 yr Casey Carter and becoming his ‘cougar’. Her life is already talk-show worthy enough. More drama would definitely be a bad idea. But it’s hard to keep saying no when Casey’s kisses remind her that she’s still got a lot of sexual life left to live. Will his persistence wear her down?
DATING DR. NOTORIOUS (Book 2)
At 47, Dr. Regina Logan has no illusions about her love life. She is used to men being intimidated by both her job as a sex therapist and her boldness. Why should 50 yr widower, Ben Kaiser, be any different? Regina doesn’t even blame Ben for regretting their kisses after he learns her identity. Ben is a nice guy—too nice for someone like her. She just wishes Ben’s kisses were more forgettable so she could stop wanting him.
DATING A SAINT (Book 3)
All 42 yr old Lauren McCarthy wants is for 42 yr old Jim Gallagher to tell her the truth about his non-existent wife. Then she can decide if their make-out session in Alexa’s garden is something she should regret—or try to make happen again. Jim is the first man since her divorce that stirs desire in her. Even Regina thinks Jim is a good guy. So why can’t Jim tell her why he keeps saying no to her?
Too Late Series under one cover. Now you can find non-stop laughter and smiles without switching files on your ereader. Join Alexa, Regina, and Lauren as they discover that it’s truly never too late for love and romance.
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DATING A COUGAR (Book 1)
At 50, Alexa Ranger has no intentions of dating 35 yr Casey Carter and becoming his ‘cougar’. Her life is already talk-show worthy enough. More drama would definitely be a bad idea. But it’s hard to keep saying no when Casey’s kisses remind her that she’s still got a lot of sexual life left to live. Will his persistence wear her down?
DATING DR. NOTORIOUS (Book 2)
At 47, Dr. Regina Logan has no illusions about her love life. She is used to men being intimidated by both her job as a sex therapist and her boldness. Why should 50 yr widower, Ben Kaiser, be any different? Regina doesn’t even blame Ben for regretting their kisses after he learns her identity. Ben is a nice guy—too nice for someone like her. She just wishes Ben’s kisses were more forgettable so she could stop wanting him.
DATING A SAINT (Book 3)
All 42 yr old Lauren McCarthy wants is for 42 yr old Jim Gallagher to tell her the truth about his non-existent wife. Then she can decide if their make-out session in Alexa’s garden is something she should regret—or try to make happen again. Jim is the first man since her divorce that stirs desire in her. Even Regina thinks Jim is a good guy. So why can’t Jim tell her why he keeps saying no to her?
Tuesday, March 5, 2013
Read An eBook Week at Smashwords March 3-9
I'm participating in the "Read An Ebook Week" sale at Smashwords from March 3-9. The second book in each series is 50% off. Enter the discount code listed under the price during checkout to get the sale price. I have also made my single title book "The Right Thing" free during this time.
This is a great time to try my work or more of it. Please tell your friends :) Here are the links to the titles at Smashwords.
Second books 50% off
This is a great time to try my work or more of it. Please tell your friends :) Here are the links to the titles at Smashwords.
Second books 50% off
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| Smashwords link |
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| Smashwords link |
FREE this week only and only at Smashwords
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| Smashwords link |
Monday, March 4, 2013
Quickies Volume 1 Giveaway
During the month of March, I am running a giveaway for an ebook copy of Quickies Volume 1. Giveaway will run from March 3-29. Winners will be contacted by email.
NOTE: I have tried to use a FB mobile friendly app, but there is no guarantee that it will work on all mobile phones or tablet devices. You may have to enter from a computer. Sorry for the inconvenience.
a Rafflecopter giveaway
THIS ONE ENDED EARLY AND I COULD NOT RESET. ENTER THE ONE ABOVE.
a Rafflecopter giveaway
NOTE: I have tried to use a FB mobile friendly app, but there is no guarantee that it will work on all mobile phones or tablet devices. You may have to enter from a computer. Sorry for the inconvenience.
a Rafflecopter giveaway
THIS ONE ENDED EARLY AND I COULD NOT RESET. ENTER THE ONE ABOVE.
a Rafflecopter giveaway
Tuesday, February 5, 2013
Excerpt from COVERED IN PAINT
I'm not very far along with the book yet, but I know you're all waiting to see what's going on with Brooke and Drake. They're off to a slow start, but a sexy one. In the opening scene, I wanted to show a little bit of where Brooke and Drake worked. Yes, I know they are being bad on campus. Let's just say it was a nod to those of you with teacher fantasies.
Okay, enough intro. Here's a draft of Chapter 1. Keep in mind it will change some. Do let me know what you think about it. I have no date, but I will post other snippets as I go along.
Happy reading.
“So Dr. Daniels, I have a question. Are all philosophers secretly geeks? Or was Descartes an exception? The whole brain in a vat thing sounds like a bad movie plot. Were there any zombies in his theory? If he were alive today, Descartes could open a restaurant that served brains and make a fortune.”
Brooke crossed her arms, mildly glaring at her most annoying pupil, who also happened to be the most promising one in this particular class. If only he didn’t grandstand so much, but she knew young Mr. Shinkel hadn’t figured out yet that it kept him from being taken seriously.
“Are you worried about a zombie eating your brain, Darren?”
With only two minutes left, Brooke became resigned to the class discussion ending on a joke. The other students laughed at her verbal volley back to him.
“Yes. If Descartes is right, I’d just as soon know about where the vat is and what kind of condition my brain is in currently.” Darren offered a wider grin when everybody else laughed.
“A zombie wouldn’t want your warped brain, Shinkel. Get over yourself.”
Brooke laughed as another student, a friend of Darren’s, took over the harassing, sparing her further rebuttal. Inside she was secretly sighing in relief, but hoped they couldn’t see. Darren had a habit of hanging back after class and it was starting to make her uncomfortable. It happened nearly every session now. She had been plotting about asking Shane to show up in a sleeveless shirt now and again just to create the impression that she was dating someone more intimidating than any of her students.
A far off bell ringing interrupted her. It wasn’t the right timing, but the students broke out the moment it sounded anyway.
“Quiz Thursday on Descartes. Finish the reading.” Brooke laughed as she yelled, hoping to be heard over the mad scramble happening at the back of the room. It was always crazy to watch twenty-two students try to push through the room door to exit at once.
Seconds after her yelled announcement, complete silence fell. All she could hear then was the rustle she was making as she gathered up her things. There was rarely a line wanting to extend class discussion even though college students were often natural philosophers.
Problem was they rarely could hold any one thought long enough to see it through to any logical conclusion. She was going to have to get creative in finding ways to teach them to extend their thinking on a single subject beyond their class time.
“I think I like the idea of being just a brain in a vat. It would be nice to think someone else was pulling the strings on the mess I call a life.”
Drake walked into the room, smiling at Brooke’s soft laugh. She was damn appealing, when she wasn’t furious at him.
“Hi.” Brooke smiled at Drake’s uniform of khakis and a polo. It was his teaching uniform, but his shirts did some pretty amazing things to those shoulders of his. She looked at her own slacks and sweater, shaking her head at the similarities. “Everything turn out alright for Brandon and his car?”
“Mostly. I’m just glad it broke down in Ohio instead of Pennsylvania. I know I could have just called the tow service, but I didn’t want to leave him stranded overnight by himself.”
Drake slipped his hands into his pockets, stunned once more to find them wanting badly to be on the young and beautiful Brooke Daniels instead.
“You are a lousy date Mr. Barrymore, but a good father.”
Brooke grinned nonchalantly at the nervous man while butterflies danced in her own stomach. Hopefully it was just because Drake was so damn good-looking. She’d hate to think it was that one kiss in her mother’s kitchen that had her so intrigued.
Maybe he was just growing on her because she wasn’t looking beyond him any more. Exclusivity had never worked out well for her. But after a couple seriously lousy dates, Drake leaving their dinner to rescue his son was still the best date she’d had in weeks.
“It was Brandon’s first time to the make the trip back from Harvard alone. I think he’s wishing he’d picked a closer college now.”
Brooke laughed. “And that’s why I picked Columbus. That seemed far enough away from mom without being too far to come home when I wanted.”
Drake nodded. “Sounds like a smart strategy for you.”
“It was self-preservation.”
Brooke laughed as she gathered her teaching materials into her arms.
“My mother was my best friend, but I still wanted the longest leash I could manage. I didn’t want to debate every decision of my college life with her. That independent woman thing is an act for the benefit of handsome men. My mother would have made a great prison guard.”
“Like I said—very smart.” Drake snorted and held the door open for Brooke to walk through. “I have to ask though—what could Jessica possibly disapprove of with a daughter more conventional than she is? Your mother walks to the beat of a drum I’m certain no one else ever hears but her. I have great admiration for Will.”
Brooke laughed at the dryness of Drake’s tone as well as at the truth of his words.
“Don’t let that cavalier artist persona fool you into thinking she’s not conventional in her habits. My mothers likes her daily rituals. And she requires a lot of quiet alone time to ponder her work. I disturb her space when I’m around, especially since I like to watch TV and listen to music. Mom and Will are quite well matched. I tell myself that all that dating she did finally paid off.”
“Ever found yourself ‘well-matched’ with anyone,” Drake asked, grinning when Brooke slowed her walk to turn an interested gaze to him. He fell into her amused eyes, unable to see anyone else around them. More amazing was that he had no reservations about it whatsoever this time.
Desire for her rolled over and through him. He decided he was really tired of fighting the feelings she stirred up. He just wanted to be with her.
“Me well-matched? Not so far.”
Brook made the remark casually, choosing to momentarily ignore the thorough inspection of Drake’s gaze running over her in a way too possessive manner.
“I think my luck has just gotten worse. The guy I’m currently interested in keeps standing me up. He makes these lame excuses about having to help his child who seems remarkably talented at having crisis after crisis. I’m kicking myself daily because his ‘concerned parent’ routine intrigues me, even when I end up alone at the damn end of the evening.”
“I assure you that all my child crises are solved for the moment. And I swear the man you’re dating is just as tired of waiting as you are.” Drake narrowed his eyes, pleased at Brooke’s flirty laugh. There was a time not so long ago that he thought Brooke would never be that relaxed with him. “Trust me, Ms. Daniels. I’m ready for a real date. One that ends a hell of a lot better than our last.”
Brooke spied an empty classroom near the end of the hallway they walked. She picked up Drake’s hand and dragged him inside the dimly lit room with her. When they were tucked along the side of the wall, she whispered ‘kiss me’, pleased when he did exactly that with no hesitation at all.
His mouth moved on hers with the same level of confidence she always heard in his voice. She put a hand on Drake’s chest to keep a bit of distance between them. Mostly because she didn’t trust herself not to escalate the kiss into a whole lot more.
When Drake finally removed his mouth from hers, they were both breathing hard. Brooke shook her head at the way her heart was trying to beat it’s way out of her chest. Sure Drake kissed well, but how did he reduce to her to a mass of quivering nerves every time? Her inquiring gaze met his focused, determined one, and a shiver honest to God traveled down her spine
“My God, I want to do that with you until I get my fill,” Drake said hoarsely, moving to her side to avoid the bulge of the armload she carried. “Come home with me. Brandon is staying with friends until tomorrow. I promise no crises other than ours this time.”
Brooke sighed at his offer and closed her eyes. If she had found a law student who had talked that way, she’d probably be married by now.
“You are definitely Descartes’ demon where I’m concerned, Dr. Barrymore. But you already know that, don’t you? You mostly irritate me and yet I still want to kiss you every time I see you. What secret power do you have over me?”
“Well. . .I do want to control you, but only your body,” Drake whispered, moving his mouth to her cheek, skimming it with his breath and then his lips. Brooke tasted better than all the fantasies he’d had about her. “How about I promise not to try to put your brain in a vat no matter what happens? And I swear I will step in front of you in case of a zombie attack.”
“Brandon would be so proud of you.” Brooke giggled as she watched Drake’s smiling mouth descending once more to hers.
A throat clearing in the room and a small “excuse me” had them pulling apart.
“Sorry,” Brook said, rising away from the wall. “Oh—hi, Arielle.”
“Hi Dr. Daniels. Class will be starting in here soon. Anyway. . .sorry to interrupt,” Arielle stammered out, her gaze jumping from the uber sexy art teacher everyone talked about to the new philosopher professor who was super nice, but hard. When Dr. Barrymore smiled knowingly at her, she completely understood why all her friends had declared him the sexiest teacher on campus. She’d have risked getting caught with him too.
“I liked your paper on Aristotle. Nice work,” Brooke said, smiling at the girl still staring in awe at Drake. She would have snorted at the girl’s awe of the older man, but given the circumstances, that would just have made her a hypocrite.
“Thank you,” Arielle said, swallowing as she pulled her gaze away from the man slipping a hand in pocket with grin.
“See you in class Thursday.” She and Drake slipped out the door, smiling as Arielle nodded.
Out in the hallway, Drake put a discreet distance between their bodies and sighed heavily. Brooke snickered at the guilty look on his face. “Some bad boy professor you turned out to be. You’re practically blushing.”
“Want me to tell you why I’m feeling guilty? My lustful thoughts about us would even make Jessica Daniels’s daughter blush.”
“Oh, I don’t know. I don’t shock very easily, but you better save the explanation for dinner, just in case. What time should I come over?” Brooke hoisted her load higher as she turned in the direction of the faculty parking lot.
“Is seven okay?” Drake put both hands in his pockets to keep from touching her one last time.
“Seven works for me,” Brooke said, winking at him before she strode off.
At her car, she set everything on the trunk to dig her keys out of her book bag. When she felt eyes boring into her, she looked back to see Drake offer a wave before sauntering off. It gave her an odd feeling to realize the man had been looking out for her as she went to her car. She couldn’t recall ever having a man be openly solicitous of her safety.
In fact, Drake Barrymore was turning out to be a first for her in many ways, starting with his ability to turn her to giggling mush with his poetic words. Her lust was running so high at the moment, she couldn’t recall why she had practically hated him when they first met.
A sigh of longing escaped, defying even her well-developed sense of self-preservation. What she was feeling for Drake wasn’t logical. What could she possibly want with a older man who was still hung up on his dead wife? Obviously, the sooner she slept with Drake, the sooner she would get over this silly infatuation she had developed for him.
It was the way he kissed. And the way he’d flirted with her at the gallery opening. She couldn’t stop thinking about him—or wanting to kiss him again.
Her logical mind informed her daily that a forty-two year man was more suitable for a woman her mother’s age, than for her. Unfortunately, the rest of her body was refusing to listen to any solution that didn’t end with her getting naked with Drake.
She chalked up her obsession to her own raging hormones, since in her thirties she was allegedly hitting her peak—whatever that meant. As far as she could tell, her mother hadn’t peaked yet. Maybe her female gene pool was extraordinary.
“It’s okay Brooke,” she said to herself as she tossed her belongings in the backset. “No matter how old or young, men are all pretty much the same when the lights are out. Drake Barrymore is not ‘the one’. He’s just the one for now. A couple of weeks and you two will be nothing more than just good friends who slept together once.”
But the excited, hopeful gaze in the rear view mirror belonged to a smiling, illogical woman she didn't recognize.
Okay, enough intro. Here's a draft of Chapter 1. Keep in mind it will change some. Do let me know what you think about it. I have no date, but I will post other snippets as I go along.
Happy reading.
**********************************************************************
Brooke crossed her arms, mildly glaring at her most annoying pupil, who also happened to be the most promising one in this particular class. If only he didn’t grandstand so much, but she knew young Mr. Shinkel hadn’t figured out yet that it kept him from being taken seriously.
“Are you worried about a zombie eating your brain, Darren?”
With only two minutes left, Brooke became resigned to the class discussion ending on a joke. The other students laughed at her verbal volley back to him.
“Yes. If Descartes is right, I’d just as soon know about where the vat is and what kind of condition my brain is in currently.” Darren offered a wider grin when everybody else laughed.
“A zombie wouldn’t want your warped brain, Shinkel. Get over yourself.”
Brooke laughed as another student, a friend of Darren’s, took over the harassing, sparing her further rebuttal. Inside she was secretly sighing in relief, but hoped they couldn’t see. Darren had a habit of hanging back after class and it was starting to make her uncomfortable. It happened nearly every session now. She had been plotting about asking Shane to show up in a sleeveless shirt now and again just to create the impression that she was dating someone more intimidating than any of her students.
A far off bell ringing interrupted her. It wasn’t the right timing, but the students broke out the moment it sounded anyway.
“Quiz Thursday on Descartes. Finish the reading.” Brooke laughed as she yelled, hoping to be heard over the mad scramble happening at the back of the room. It was always crazy to watch twenty-two students try to push through the room door to exit at once.
Seconds after her yelled announcement, complete silence fell. All she could hear then was the rustle she was making as she gathered up her things. There was rarely a line wanting to extend class discussion even though college students were often natural philosophers.
Problem was they rarely could hold any one thought long enough to see it through to any logical conclusion. She was going to have to get creative in finding ways to teach them to extend their thinking on a single subject beyond their class time.
“I think I like the idea of being just a brain in a vat. It would be nice to think someone else was pulling the strings on the mess I call a life.”
Drake walked into the room, smiling at Brooke’s soft laugh. She was damn appealing, when she wasn’t furious at him.
“Hi.” Brooke smiled at Drake’s uniform of khakis and a polo. It was his teaching uniform, but his shirts did some pretty amazing things to those shoulders of his. She looked at her own slacks and sweater, shaking her head at the similarities. “Everything turn out alright for Brandon and his car?”
“Mostly. I’m just glad it broke down in Ohio instead of Pennsylvania. I know I could have just called the tow service, but I didn’t want to leave him stranded overnight by himself.”
Drake slipped his hands into his pockets, stunned once more to find them wanting badly to be on the young and beautiful Brooke Daniels instead.
“You are a lousy date Mr. Barrymore, but a good father.”
Brooke grinned nonchalantly at the nervous man while butterflies danced in her own stomach. Hopefully it was just because Drake was so damn good-looking. She’d hate to think it was that one kiss in her mother’s kitchen that had her so intrigued.
Maybe he was just growing on her because she wasn’t looking beyond him any more. Exclusivity had never worked out well for her. But after a couple seriously lousy dates, Drake leaving their dinner to rescue his son was still the best date she’d had in weeks.
“It was Brandon’s first time to the make the trip back from Harvard alone. I think he’s wishing he’d picked a closer college now.”
Brooke laughed. “And that’s why I picked Columbus. That seemed far enough away from mom without being too far to come home when I wanted.”
Drake nodded. “Sounds like a smart strategy for you.”
“It was self-preservation.”
Brooke laughed as she gathered her teaching materials into her arms.
“My mother was my best friend, but I still wanted the longest leash I could manage. I didn’t want to debate every decision of my college life with her. That independent woman thing is an act for the benefit of handsome men. My mother would have made a great prison guard.”
“Like I said—very smart.” Drake snorted and held the door open for Brooke to walk through. “I have to ask though—what could Jessica possibly disapprove of with a daughter more conventional than she is? Your mother walks to the beat of a drum I’m certain no one else ever hears but her. I have great admiration for Will.”
Brooke laughed at the dryness of Drake’s tone as well as at the truth of his words.
“Don’t let that cavalier artist persona fool you into thinking she’s not conventional in her habits. My mothers likes her daily rituals. And she requires a lot of quiet alone time to ponder her work. I disturb her space when I’m around, especially since I like to watch TV and listen to music. Mom and Will are quite well matched. I tell myself that all that dating she did finally paid off.”
“Ever found yourself ‘well-matched’ with anyone,” Drake asked, grinning when Brooke slowed her walk to turn an interested gaze to him. He fell into her amused eyes, unable to see anyone else around them. More amazing was that he had no reservations about it whatsoever this time.
Desire for her rolled over and through him. He decided he was really tired of fighting the feelings she stirred up. He just wanted to be with her.
“Me well-matched? Not so far.”
Brook made the remark casually, choosing to momentarily ignore the thorough inspection of Drake’s gaze running over her in a way too possessive manner.
“I think my luck has just gotten worse. The guy I’m currently interested in keeps standing me up. He makes these lame excuses about having to help his child who seems remarkably talented at having crisis after crisis. I’m kicking myself daily because his ‘concerned parent’ routine intrigues me, even when I end up alone at the damn end of the evening.”
“I assure you that all my child crises are solved for the moment. And I swear the man you’re dating is just as tired of waiting as you are.” Drake narrowed his eyes, pleased at Brooke’s flirty laugh. There was a time not so long ago that he thought Brooke would never be that relaxed with him. “Trust me, Ms. Daniels. I’m ready for a real date. One that ends a hell of a lot better than our last.”
Brooke spied an empty classroom near the end of the hallway they walked. She picked up Drake’s hand and dragged him inside the dimly lit room with her. When they were tucked along the side of the wall, she whispered ‘kiss me’, pleased when he did exactly that with no hesitation at all.
His mouth moved on hers with the same level of confidence she always heard in his voice. She put a hand on Drake’s chest to keep a bit of distance between them. Mostly because she didn’t trust herself not to escalate the kiss into a whole lot more.
When Drake finally removed his mouth from hers, they were both breathing hard. Brooke shook her head at the way her heart was trying to beat it’s way out of her chest. Sure Drake kissed well, but how did he reduce to her to a mass of quivering nerves every time? Her inquiring gaze met his focused, determined one, and a shiver honest to God traveled down her spine
“My God, I want to do that with you until I get my fill,” Drake said hoarsely, moving to her side to avoid the bulge of the armload she carried. “Come home with me. Brandon is staying with friends until tomorrow. I promise no crises other than ours this time.”
Brooke sighed at his offer and closed her eyes. If she had found a law student who had talked that way, she’d probably be married by now.
“You are definitely Descartes’ demon where I’m concerned, Dr. Barrymore. But you already know that, don’t you? You mostly irritate me and yet I still want to kiss you every time I see you. What secret power do you have over me?”
“Well. . .I do want to control you, but only your body,” Drake whispered, moving his mouth to her cheek, skimming it with his breath and then his lips. Brooke tasted better than all the fantasies he’d had about her. “How about I promise not to try to put your brain in a vat no matter what happens? And I swear I will step in front of you in case of a zombie attack.”
“Brandon would be so proud of you.” Brooke giggled as she watched Drake’s smiling mouth descending once more to hers.
A throat clearing in the room and a small “excuse me” had them pulling apart.
“Sorry,” Brook said, rising away from the wall. “Oh—hi, Arielle.”
“Hi Dr. Daniels. Class will be starting in here soon. Anyway. . .sorry to interrupt,” Arielle stammered out, her gaze jumping from the uber sexy art teacher everyone talked about to the new philosopher professor who was super nice, but hard. When Dr. Barrymore smiled knowingly at her, she completely understood why all her friends had declared him the sexiest teacher on campus. She’d have risked getting caught with him too.
“I liked your paper on Aristotle. Nice work,” Brooke said, smiling at the girl still staring in awe at Drake. She would have snorted at the girl’s awe of the older man, but given the circumstances, that would just have made her a hypocrite.
“Thank you,” Arielle said, swallowing as she pulled her gaze away from the man slipping a hand in pocket with grin.
“See you in class Thursday.” She and Drake slipped out the door, smiling as Arielle nodded.
Out in the hallway, Drake put a discreet distance between their bodies and sighed heavily. Brooke snickered at the guilty look on his face. “Some bad boy professor you turned out to be. You’re practically blushing.”
“Want me to tell you why I’m feeling guilty? My lustful thoughts about us would even make Jessica Daniels’s daughter blush.”
“Oh, I don’t know. I don’t shock very easily, but you better save the explanation for dinner, just in case. What time should I come over?” Brooke hoisted her load higher as she turned in the direction of the faculty parking lot.
“Is seven okay?” Drake put both hands in his pockets to keep from touching her one last time.
“Seven works for me,” Brooke said, winking at him before she strode off.
At her car, she set everything on the trunk to dig her keys out of her book bag. When she felt eyes boring into her, she looked back to see Drake offer a wave before sauntering off. It gave her an odd feeling to realize the man had been looking out for her as she went to her car. She couldn’t recall ever having a man be openly solicitous of her safety.
In fact, Drake Barrymore was turning out to be a first for her in many ways, starting with his ability to turn her to giggling mush with his poetic words. Her lust was running so high at the moment, she couldn’t recall why she had practically hated him when they first met.
A sigh of longing escaped, defying even her well-developed sense of self-preservation. What she was feeling for Drake wasn’t logical. What could she possibly want with a older man who was still hung up on his dead wife? Obviously, the sooner she slept with Drake, the sooner she would get over this silly infatuation she had developed for him.
It was the way he kissed. And the way he’d flirted with her at the gallery opening. She couldn’t stop thinking about him—or wanting to kiss him again.
Her logical mind informed her daily that a forty-two year man was more suitable for a woman her mother’s age, than for her. Unfortunately, the rest of her body was refusing to listen to any solution that didn’t end with her getting naked with Drake.
She chalked up her obsession to her own raging hormones, since in her thirties she was allegedly hitting her peak—whatever that meant. As far as she could tell, her mother hadn’t peaked yet. Maybe her female gene pool was extraordinary.
“It’s okay Brooke,” she said to herself as she tossed her belongings in the backset. “No matter how old or young, men are all pretty much the same when the lights are out. Drake Barrymore is not ‘the one’. He’s just the one for now. A couple of weeks and you two will be nothing more than just good friends who slept together once.”
But the excited, hopeful gaze in the rear view mirror belonged to a smiling, illogical woman she didn't recognize.
Thursday, January 17, 2013
Robyn Peterman wonders HOW HARD CAN IT BE?
From time to to time, I feature the books of author friends on my blog. I especially enjoy this when they are releasing their first ever books. Today it's my pleasure to feature Robyn Peterman, author of HOW HARD CAN IT BE?
I was lucky enough to beta read an early version of this title, but I've also pre-ordered my finished copy. The book is hilarious, and maybe a little too realistic for me because it's about a woman who decides to write a romance.
Another blogger commented that the hot cop in the book makes you want to get arrested. I'll second that sentiment for sure. I especially liked the initial kissing scene between Rena and Jack. . . anyway--where was I? Oh yeah. . .
Let's just say I'm never revealing which one of Robyn's romance writer characters I most relate to or fear being, but since you all know my work best, you're free to comment if you want.
WARNING: future romance authors beware. There are OMG moments galore in this book and multiple bathroom trips in your future from laughing so hard while reading it.
Look at you, Robyn. You're a published author now! I'm so proud of you!
What reviewers are saying
"How Hard Can it Be? is outrageous, profane, hilarious, sexy, and all kinds of wacky. For a good time, read Robyn Peterman!" ~ MICHELLE ROWEN, national bestselling author
"A zany over-the-top rompfest." ~ LEXI GEORGE, author of Demon Hunting in a Dive Bar
Book description
What happens when an accountant decides to grab life by the horns and try something new? Apparently a pirate named Dave, a lot of pastel fleece, and blackmail—just to start with... Visualize and succeed, Oprah said. I was sure as hell trying, even if my campaign to score a job as the local weather girl had ended in a restraining order. Okay, TV was not my strength. But a lack of talent has never stopped me before. Which is why I’ve embarked on a writing career. I mean, how hard can it be to come up with a sexy romance?
Leave it to me to wind up in a group of porno writing grannies who discuss sex toys and apple cobbler in the same breath. Also leave it to me to leak an outlandish plot idea to a bestselling author with the morals of a rabid squirrel. And only I could get arrested for a jewelry heist I didn’t commit—by a hunky cop whose handcuffs just might tempt me to sign up for a life of crime. Maybe I’ve found my calling after all...
Mini-interview with the author
(I asked Robyn to answer just a couple of questions for me)
Donna: So Robyn, how hard was it writing a romance? Come on, tell us the truth.
Robyn: Actually, since romance novels are what I’m obsessed with, it wasn’t all that hard. . .it was kind of soft. Kidding. I adore happily ever afters, a hot hero, a strong heroine, a viciously evil bad guy and a gaggle of porno writing grannies. Soooo, in my warped mind it made sense for me to spew out a romance. You’ll probably have to read the book to figure out what in the hell I’m talking about!!
Donna: What's next for you creatively? Got another book coming out?
Robyn: God, I hope so! Actually, I have a sexy, funny paranormal coming out in April called FASHIONABLY DEAD and the sequel to HOW HARD CAN IT BE? tentatively called SHE LIKES THEM BIG AND HAIRY! comes out in June.
Excerpt from HOW HARD CAN IT BE?
“If you handcuff a woman to a headboard, you need to use fur-covered cuffs. Otherwise you’ll rub all the skin off of her wrists during rough sex, and she’ll bleed like a motherf---er. Blood is just not sexy unless you’re writing paranormal.” The gal with the lesbian haircut delivered that little nugget with gusto.
What in the hell am I doing here? I’m going to kill Oprah. Does anybody actually listen to her ‘if you can visualize it you can do it’ crap other than me? Becoming a famous romance novel writer had sounded like such a good idea the other day. The simple fact that I couldn’t really write had seemed beside the point...
My best friend and roommate, Kristy, accused me of pulling a Sunshine Weather Girl again, referring to my embarrassing and very recent attempt to become a meteorologist. Kristy’s reminder was a low blow. I didn’t like to think about that. Clearly showing up at the news station for a month straight wasn’t the way to become the new weather girl. It had resulted in a restraining order, six hours in the pokey, and a feature story on the six o’clock news. My mother told all her friends I was adopted...I wasn’t.
So here I stood, in the poorly lit back meeting room of the downtown public library, with ten or so women who looked like seventy-year-old church ladies. Why do women in the Midwest think that really short hair shaved up at the back of the neck is a good look? I found out the bondage gal’s name was Sue, but she went by Shoshanna LeHump. Quite the little fireball, she was dressed entirely in lavender fleece. She explained her husband had threatened to divorce her if she continued to write that garbage under her real name. Her words, not mine. I didn’t know if I was more shocked by her pen name or the fact that she was married.
I glanced around the room hoping to spot Evangeline O’Hara, the famous New York Times best-selling author. She wrote a mean bodice ripper and was the main reason I’d joined this group. I hoped she’d like my ideas and mentor me to stardom. Of course, ideas were a slight problem at this point, but I would continue visualizing like hell.
I was looking forward to discussing Evangeline’s books with her, until Kristy, not unkindly, had reminded me I hadn’t read any of them.
“Turkey Noodle Dooda Surprise served with Tater Tot Casserole can really get your amorous juices flowing,” the one who called herself Nancy gushed. Her floral caftan reminded me of Hawaii. The quintessential grandma had no last name. Apparently she had legally changed her name to Nancy...you know, like Cher or Beyoncé or Gaga.
“I’m sorry,” I interrupted. “I thought this was a romance writers meeting.” My insides clenched. This couldn’t be right. I must be in the wrong room, or hopefully the wrong building.
“It is,” Shoshanna LeHump said. “Nancy writes romantic cookbooks!”
“Oh, aren’t you a lovely thing.” Nancy smiled and squeezed my hands. “Are you a cover model?”
“Um, no. I’m actually a, um...writer,” I white lied. I do write things. I’m a CPA, for God’s sake. I just happen to write numbers instead of words.
“Shoshanna,” Nancy called out to the handcuff-loving porno granny, “we have a new writer!”
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| Robyn's website |
Another blogger commented that the hot cop in the book makes you want to get arrested. I'll second that sentiment for sure. I especially liked the initial kissing scene between Rena and Jack. . . anyway--where was I? Oh yeah. . .
Let's just say I'm never revealing which one of Robyn's romance writer characters I most relate to or fear being, but since you all know my work best, you're free to comment if you want.
WARNING: future romance authors beware. There are OMG moments galore in this book and multiple bathroom trips in your future from laughing so hard while reading it.
Look at you, Robyn. You're a published author now! I'm so proud of you!
What reviewers are saying
"How Hard Can it Be? is outrageous, profane, hilarious, sexy, and all kinds of wacky. For a good time, read Robyn Peterman!" ~ MICHELLE ROWEN, national bestselling author
"A zany over-the-top rompfest." ~ LEXI GEORGE, author of Demon Hunting in a Dive Bar
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| Buy it at Amazon! |
What happens when an accountant decides to grab life by the horns and try something new? Apparently a pirate named Dave, a lot of pastel fleece, and blackmail—just to start with... Visualize and succeed, Oprah said. I was sure as hell trying, even if my campaign to score a job as the local weather girl had ended in a restraining order. Okay, TV was not my strength. But a lack of talent has never stopped me before. Which is why I’ve embarked on a writing career. I mean, how hard can it be to come up with a sexy romance?
Leave it to me to wind up in a group of porno writing grannies who discuss sex toys and apple cobbler in the same breath. Also leave it to me to leak an outlandish plot idea to a bestselling author with the morals of a rabid squirrel. And only I could get arrested for a jewelry heist I didn’t commit—by a hunky cop whose handcuffs just might tempt me to sign up for a life of crime. Maybe I’ve found my calling after all...
Mini-interview with the author
(I asked Robyn to answer just a couple of questions for me)
Donna: So Robyn, how hard was it writing a romance? Come on, tell us the truth.
Robyn: Actually, since romance novels are what I’m obsessed with, it wasn’t all that hard. . .it was kind of soft. Kidding. I adore happily ever afters, a hot hero, a strong heroine, a viciously evil bad guy and a gaggle of porno writing grannies. Soooo, in my warped mind it made sense for me to spew out a romance. You’ll probably have to read the book to figure out what in the hell I’m talking about!!
Donna: What's next for you creatively? Got another book coming out?
Robyn: God, I hope so! Actually, I have a sexy, funny paranormal coming out in April called FASHIONABLY DEAD and the sequel to HOW HARD CAN IT BE? tentatively called SHE LIKES THEM BIG AND HAIRY! comes out in June.
Excerpt from HOW HARD CAN IT BE?
“If you handcuff a woman to a headboard, you need to use fur-covered cuffs. Otherwise you’ll rub all the skin off of her wrists during rough sex, and she’ll bleed like a motherf---er. Blood is just not sexy unless you’re writing paranormal.” The gal with the lesbian haircut delivered that little nugget with gusto.
What in the hell am I doing here? I’m going to kill Oprah. Does anybody actually listen to her ‘if you can visualize it you can do it’ crap other than me? Becoming a famous romance novel writer had sounded like such a good idea the other day. The simple fact that I couldn’t really write had seemed beside the point...
My best friend and roommate, Kristy, accused me of pulling a Sunshine Weather Girl again, referring to my embarrassing and very recent attempt to become a meteorologist. Kristy’s reminder was a low blow. I didn’t like to think about that. Clearly showing up at the news station for a month straight wasn’t the way to become the new weather girl. It had resulted in a restraining order, six hours in the pokey, and a feature story on the six o’clock news. My mother told all her friends I was adopted...I wasn’t.
 |
| Follow Shoshanna LeHump on Twitter |
I glanced around the room hoping to spot Evangeline O’Hara, the famous New York Times best-selling author. She wrote a mean bodice ripper and was the main reason I’d joined this group. I hoped she’d like my ideas and mentor me to stardom. Of course, ideas were a slight problem at this point, but I would continue visualizing like hell.
I was looking forward to discussing Evangeline’s books with her, until Kristy, not unkindly, had reminded me I hadn’t read any of them.
“Turkey Noodle Dooda Surprise served with Tater Tot Casserole can really get your amorous juices flowing,” the one who called herself Nancy gushed. Her floral caftan reminded me of Hawaii. The quintessential grandma had no last name. Apparently she had legally changed her name to Nancy...you know, like Cher or Beyoncé or Gaga.
 |
| Follow Rena Gunderschlict on Twitter |
“It is,” Shoshanna LeHump said. “Nancy writes romantic cookbooks!”
“Oh, aren’t you a lovely thing.” Nancy smiled and squeezed my hands. “Are you a cover model?”
“Um, no. I’m actually a, um...writer,” I white lied. I do write things. I’m a CPA, for God’s sake. I just happen to write numbers instead of words.
“Shoshanna,” Nancy called out to the handcuff-loving porno granny, “we have a new writer!”
Tuesday, January 1, 2013
Printed NTL Series Giveaway
Happy 2013! I thought I would start the year with a giveaway. This month, I will be giving away a printed set of Books 1-5 of the Never Too Late Series.
To enter, just tell me which character was your favorite in the series. Every other question or task of the giveaway will increase your chances. Contest ends on January 31. The winner will be selected Feb 1.
Good luck everyone!
a Rafflecopter giveaway
To enter, just tell me which character was your favorite in the series. Every other question or task of the giveaway will increase your chances. Contest ends on January 31. The winner will be selected Feb 1.
Good luck everyone!
a Rafflecopter giveaway
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