An Exciting New Release coming May 28th: The Earl’s Enticement

Cover Reveal –The Earl’s Enticement
Coming May 28, 2014 from Soul Mate Publishing
A Regency-Scottish Historical

The Earl’s Enticement Blurb

She won’t be tamed.
A fiery, unconventional Scot, Adaira Ferguson wears breeches, swears, and has no more desire to marry than she does to follow society’s dictates of appropriate behavior. She trusts no man with the secret she desperately protects.

He can’t forget.
Haunted by his past, Roark, The Earl of Clarendon, rigidly adheres to propriety, holding himself and those around him to the highest standards, no matter the cost. Betrayed once, he’s guarded and leery of all women.

Mistaking Roark for a known spy, Adaira imprisons him. Infuriated, he vows vengeance. Realizing her error, she’s appalled and releases him, but he’s not satisfied with his freedom. Roark is determined to transform Adaira from an ill-mannered hoyden to a lady of refinement.
He succeeds only to discover, he preferred the free-spirited Scottish lass who first captured his heart.

A bit about Collette
Award winning, Amazon best-selling, and multi-published historical romance author, Collette Cameron, has a BS in Liberal Studies and a Master’s in Teaching. A Pacific Northwest Native, Collette’s been married for thirty years, has three amazing adult children, and five dachshunds. Collette loves a good joke, inspirational quotes, flowers, the beach, trivia, birds, shabby chic, and Cadbury Chocolate. You’ll always find dogs, birds, quirky—sometimes naughty—humor, and a dash of inspiration in her novels. Her motto for life? You can’t have too much chocolate, too many hugs, or too many flowers. She’s thinking about adding shoes to that list.

Connect with Collette:
Website Blue Rose Romance Blog Twitter Facebook
You can connect with Collette on Goodreads, LinkedIn, and Google+ too. Go to her website for the links, her email address, and mailing address.

 

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Introducing the Book Cover for Dreams of Perfection Coming in May, 2014

Book Blurb

What if perfection isn’t truly perfect?

Best-selling romance writer, Darcy Butler, is holding out for perfection in the form of her own carefully-crafted heroes. Once blissfully engaged to be married, Darcy’s post-traumatic commitment phobia is depriving her of the very thing she wants most: her very own happily-ever-after. Now, here she is just six months shy of her thirtieth birthday, and not a Prince Charming in sight.

Successful lawyer, Josh Ryan, is the boy-next-door with a soft spot for the less fortunate, and Darcy’s best friend without benefits. Darcy often comes to him lamenting her love-life, or the lack thereof, whereupon Josh patiently doles out his sage advice. Problem is Josh is in love with Darcy.

But when Darcy finds herself looking into the handsome face of the man who graces the cover of her soon-to-be-released novel, she’s convinced her dreams of perfection have come true. Or have they?

Bio

Rebecca Heflin is an award-winning author who has dreamed of writing romantic fiction since she was fifteen and her older sister snuck a copy of Kathleen Woodiwiss’ Shanna to her and told her to read it. Rebecca writes women’s fiction and contemporary romance. When not passionately pursuing her dream, Rebecca is busy with her day-job as a practicing attorney.
Rebecca is a member of Romance Writers of America (RWA), Florida Romance Writers, RWA Contemporary Romance, and Florida Writers Association. She and her mountain-climbing husband live at sea level in sunny Florida.

Visit Rebecca at:

Website| Facebook | Twitter | Pinterest

A sneak preview of this great read:

Excerpt:

Darcy Butler sat across the table from her blind date in a trendy new SoHo restaurant contemplating the fact that he was no Blake Garrett. Blake was . . . perfect. But why wouldn’t he be? After all, she’d created him.
Listening with half an ear, she nodded at something he said. Her date was handsome, polite, successful, charming even. He had good taste in food, wine, and from the looks of his expensive suit, clothes as well. But the comparisons continued, and she found him lacking at every turn. Robert, or Russell, or something that started with an ‘R’ asked her a question.
She could hear her mother’s well-deserved admonishment. He’s buying you dinner. The least you can do is remember his name.
Focus, Darcy.
“What do you like to do with your free time?” He gazed into her eyes, clearly trying to make a connection.
“I love going to Yankees’ games,” she said, excited that the season started that week.
“Baseball? Really?”
“Yeah, do you like baseball?” Her excitement rose at the prospect of finding a fellow baseball lover. Provided, of course, his loyalties didn’t run in the wrong direction.
“No. I find baseball boring. Too much standing around. I prefer boxing or hockey, something with a little action.”
Okay—first—baseball boring? Her excitement fell in proportion to the rise in her blood pressure. Second, boxing? Hockey? Where guys beat the crap out of each other? Did she want to date a man with a proclivity for violence?
All right, all right. Down, girl. Maybe she could educate him on the subtleties of baseball, the beauty of a breaking ball, the rarity of a no-hitter, the excitement of a bottom-of-the-ninth-down-by-three-full-count-with-two-outs-and-bases-loaded game. Help him see the light.
“Do you like boxing or hockey?” he continued.
“No. Sorry. I don’t.”
The clatter of silverware against china, the clink of glasses, and the low hum of conversation from other diners did nothing to diminish the uncomfortable silence that descended. “So”—he cleared his throat—“Laura tells me you’re a writer. What do you write, fiction, non-fiction? Murder mysteries? I love a good murder mystery.”
He signaled to the waiter for another gin and tonic. His third so far, but who’s counting.
“No, I write romance.” Was that an eye roll?
“Seriously?” he asked, his highball glass poised halfway to his mouth.
That was definitely an eyebrow lift, and not the wow-that-intrigues-me sort of lift, but the you-can’t-be-serious sort of lift. “Yes, really. I’m a New York Times and USA Today best-selling romance author,” she said, with no small amount of pride in her voice. “In fact, my latest book, The Doctor’s Dilemma, will be out in a few months.”
“That’s, um, great.”
“You seem surprised, and not pleasantly.” She tilted her head.
“Well, I mean,” he stammered, “Laura said you had a B.A. in Creative Writing from Columbia, and, well, using it to write books about half-naked men and heaving bosoms seems . . . a waste.” He made no further attempt to hide the disdain in his voice.
Her blood pressure soared, not to mention her temper. She set down her glass of Chardonnay so she could make her point without the risk of throwing the wine in his face, and propping her elbows on the table, leaned forward.
“Romance is serious business. Did you know that romantic fiction has the largest share of the U.S. consumer market? That romantic fiction generated over one billion, that’s billion with a ‘b,’ dollars in sales last year? That almost seventy-five million people read at least one romantic novel a year? And that includes men.”
He held up his hands in surrender. “Okay, okay. I get it. It’s a money thing.”
“No, it’s not a money thing,” she replied with a dash of snark. “I happen to love what I do. And so do my fans. All three hundred thousand of them.” Wow, I really need to get a grip. She’d caught the unwelcome attention of neighboring diners.
Mr. R.—and ‘R’ didn’t stand for ‘Right’—glanced around as if seeking the closest exit. His phone rang—one of those sultry sax tones—and from the look on his face, he welcomed the interruption. Excusing himself from the table, he stepped outside to take the call.
Darcy snatched up her phone and texted Laura, the instigator of this blind-date-gone-wrong.
He hates baseball. How could u?
Momentarily her phone buzzed.
How am I supposed to know he hates baseball? And who cares? He’s cute! And rich.
Darcy dropped her phone into her purse as Mr. R. approached the table.
“I’m sorry, I’ve got to go. My sister’s in labor. Twins.” He gave Darcy a lame smile.
She couldn’t tell if he was lying or not, but if he was, he got an ‘A’ for creativity. Either way, she didn’t care. The evening couldn’t end soon enough as far as she was concerned. “Well, congratulations.”
Darcy stood as he tossed a hundred dollar bill down on the table. “This should take care of it. I’m really sorry. Good luck with your new book.” And with that, he left.
Well, another one bites the dust. She sat back down with a sigh, before signaling the waiter. “I’ll have a Grey Goose Cosmo, and the Ahi tuna salad, with the dressing on the side. Oh, and the melting chocolate cake for dessert.” Since Mr. R. was buying, she might as well eat.

Falling Out of Love With My Manuscript

Yikes! I pushed the send button. What was I thinking? It’s not ready. If I read it one more time, I know I can improve it.

Do all authors think these thoughts when they submit a manuscript? I do and more. Some I can’t share on a public blog site.

I’m what they call an early sender. I have to be. If I read my manuscript one more time, I’m going to send it to the trash bin. I’m sick of the characters, sick of the plot. What I knew was good after the third read, is now a boring mish-mash of uninteresting characters whom I hate. I really don’t care anymore if Ian and Gwyn get back together or if Bronwyn ever falls in love. Let them figure out their own problems.

It was suggested that I do a sequel. I laughed hysterically. “That means I have to read the bloody book again. I don’t remember the details.” I quipped to the person who knows me and my fickle nature.

I did end up writing a sequel. I loved the book for as long as it took me to write it. But like all the others, I fell out of love.

I’m very unfaithful. I’ve written nine books in two years. Thank goodness my personal life isn’t as chaotic. I assure you, I’m happily married and have been for thirty plus years. My infidelities only happen on paper.

I envy the writer who remains faithful to their novels. The author who remembers every detail, every kiss, every word spoken between the heroine and the hero. My CP can recite passages from her works. She remembers in detail what they wore, how they looked, how they felt.

If I’m asked about my books, I have to struggle to remember the names of the main characters. I often get my characters mixed up. Sarah is the horse trainer, not the Behavioral Psychologist for the Chicago Police Department. Her name is Kate or is it Angharad. No, Angharad is the witch.

Maybe, I should write sequels, the names would be easier to remember. Alas, that isn’t true either. I wrote the sequel using the wrong name for the antagonist and had to do a search to change the name when I discovered my error on the third read through. I wrote the wrong name fifty-one times. By then, I was clenching my teeth and rooting for her.

Today, I sent it off. Ready or not. It was either send or trash, and I chose send. The thought of Ian in the trash still hurt a bit.

I hope I’m not alone. I never hear anyone talk about their books in anything but the most loving terms. Don’t get me wrong, months later, I can remember them with fond, if not vague, memories.

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Books:
Released 2014
Stolen Hearts:
To find Stolen Hearts on Amazon: http://www.amazon.com/Stolen-Hearts-ebook/dp/BooE3LMF71
Coming in 2014 by SoulMate Publishing:
The Call April, 2014
Love on the Double T May, 2014
Moody Gallery Summer, 2014
The Exchange September, 2014
Jana Morgan, P.I., The Case of the Mississippi River Murders

Truth or Consequences

My CP’s new book. I can tell you that it’s great.

Author April A. Luna

I’m excited to reveal the cover for Truth or Consequences, a romantic thriller. Soul Mate Publishing has slated a tentative release in May.

Final Truth or Consequences (small) copy

Danielle Herring is happy with her life in Texas just the way it is – easy, relaxed, and simplistic; however, conflicting worlds collide and heinous transgressions are committed when she’s whisked to New Mexico and into a world she doesn’t understand. If she had realized the impact of her beloved Grandma Mae’s last words, her life may have been easier. Danielle may have been prepared to face the daunting skeletons. The ones locked deep in the recesses of a dark and looming closet where treachery lurks in the shadows of her family tree.

While searching for answers to the secrets of her past, unknowingly, she makes the skeletons dance and is thrust into the arms of two men she knows little about. Drake Del Bosque and…

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The ‘Write-aholic’ Intervention (1st Publication by: http://smpauthors.wordpress.com)

My family says I’ve changed since I’ve become an author. Not in the sense of becoming overly confident or proud. They say I no longer clean my house.

Ashley, my youngest, said to me over the Christmas Holidays. “Mom, Jennifer is very worried about you. There’s dust on the cabinet in the upstairs hallway. And cobwebs!”

Me:  “There’s cobwebs upstairs? I hadn’t noticed.”

Ashley: “That’s the point. You’ve never had cobwebs. You’ve never had dust. Maybe you should get a cleaning lady to clean your house.”

I look around at my home. It’s not that bad. Maybe a bit of dust here and there, but it’s presentable. Isn’t it? I’m retired. How do I justify a cleaning lady? When I worked as a Controller for a corporation in St Louis, I didn’t have a cleaning lady. My husband would think I’d lost it if I suggested I needed help to clean my house now that I’m home every day.

Me: “I don’t think that’s necessary. I’ll assign a day to cleaning.” That should take care of it.

Ashley: “You need to cook dinners for Dad once in a while.” She couched her words carefully. Maybe my husband was wondering if I was ever going to leave the computer.

My face fell. My husband comes home from work every evening and cooks dinner. I always offer to help just as soon as I finish the scene I’m writing. By the time I type the last word, dinner is on the table.

Me: “You’re absolutely right. I’ll cook every Thursday. It’s your dad’s late night.” I beam at her as if the one night solves the issue.

Ashley sighed and went on. “Maybe you can help him with the laundry.” My poor daughter was obviously uncomfortable, but had taken on the job of opening my eyes to my overzealous dedication to my new career.

Me: “Your dad likes to do the laundry. He’s always done the laundry.” By now, shame is written on my face. I hate to do laundry. Maybe there’s another trade-off. “I’ll do the grocery shopping.” I’m satisfied; it’s a good compromise.

Ashley: “Dad likes to do the shopping. He likes to buy things for the kids on his Sunday morning adventure to Wally-World.”

Me: I sigh. “He does, but he also likes to do the laundry.”

Ashley: “Maybe you can mow the lawn once in a while.”

Me: “I can’t use the zero-turn. I’ll mow down his trees.”

Ashley: “Mom, he bought you a riding lawnmower. It’s sitting in the barn.”

I have no answer for this. There is a miniature riding lawnmower sitting in the barn. The grandkids drive it around when they visit.

Ashley:  Adding a positive note to my write-aholic intervention. “Well, he is happier now that he doesn’t have to take care of the horses every day. At least you did that for him.”

Me: “Yes, he is. I’m glad I gave in and sold them and sent Juno to the trainer.”

Ashley finally stops talking. I know she’s beside herself having to be the one to give me the talk, but who else will do it. She’s the closest. She doesn’t intentionally want to make me feel like a horrible person, but I am a horrible person. At least when it comes to neglecting my family and squirreling myself away to write. And I’m married to a Saint. For years,   I thought I was the Saint, but who was I fooling. No one, but myself.

I promise to do better. That evening, my husband comes home, and I tell him I’m going to be a better person. I’ll cook and clean and mow the lawn.

Husband: “When are you going to write?”

Me: “I’ll fit it in.”

Husband: “Don’t be silly. You love to write.”

Without my husband, I wouldn’t be able to write as I do. I’m able to spend hours at the computer typing away, spinning dreams, creating heroes, but the biggest hero in my life walks through the door every evening and cooks me dinner.

To find Stolen Hearts on Amazon: http://www.amazon.com/Stolen-Hearts-ebook/dp/BooE3LMF71

http://www.facebook.com/AuthorPHudson

http://www.twitter.com/AuthorPHudson

www.wordpress.com/patriciahudson

http://smpauthors.wordpress.com/meet-patricia-hudson/

Books:

Released 2014

Stolen Hearts

Coming in 2014 by SoulMate Publishing:

The Call    April, 2014

Love on the Double T   May, 2014

Moody Gallery   Summer, 2014

The Exchange   September, 2014