My Newest Addiction

I have a new addiction. Pinterest. O.M.G. I could–and have–spent hours on that sight.

Never been? Well, let me explain. Pinterest is your own, online, bulletin boards. You can create any sort of board. Options are endless. For instance, I have bulletin boards relating to recipes, quotes, ideas for an upcoming kitchen remodel, bling bling (jewelry I want but probably can’t afford), fun stuff… The list can go on and on.

The idea is if you stumble upon something on the internet that you like, you click the “pin it” link on your favorites bar in your browser. It will pin that page to the bulletin board of your choice.

Now, this is where  it gets interesting. You can “follow” other pinners. So, say you find someone who has the same taste as you, then you follow them and you “repin” things they’ve pinned that interest you. Or you follow other friends. Apparently you can set up your account so other pinners can pin things to your boards that they think you might be interested in. I have yet to figure this part out.

Now do you see why I’m addicted?

Websites are starting to get on the bandwagon too. They are now adding “Pin it” buttons to their pages which makes it even easier to pin something to your boards.

Ay, yi yi.

So, have you discovered Pinterest yet? And if so, what’s the most interesting thing you’ve pinned?



Six Sentence Sunday

Welcome back to Six Sentence Sunday where authors post six sentences of their writing. This is from my romantic suspense, Deception. Enjoy! And don’t forget to visit other authors’ six sentences here.

He sucked in a breath that made his bruised ribs ache. The pain in her voice got to him, stabbed at his guilt. “Everything except what I did for a living was the truth,” he said quietly.

“Our love?”

“God, Kate, I hate that you even have to ask that.”



Buy links:

Nook  Kindle  |  Paperback






Sweet Saturday Samples

Happy Saturday to everyone! Here’s hoping your weekend is off to a great start. Today’s sample is from Her Dark Knight, a paranormal romance. Enjoy!

“You are needed here.” Michael’s expression softened, as if he felt his patient’s pain and longing. “You are charged with protecting the treasure for all
“Nay.” Nay. He did not want this.

“If the treasure is discovered by the wrong people, there will be war as we have never seen, pestilence and death. Everything as you know it will be gone.”

“You are speaking of the Apocalypse?”

Michael did not answer. His silence was answer enough.

He would not accept that he was the only man standing between life and the end of the world. The only man for the rest of eternity? Nay.

“You will encounter those who want to take the treasure from you, who will do anything to have it. You alone know where it is buried, but only the key
can break the seals.”

“What is this key you speak of?”

“You will know when you find it.”

He shook his pounding head. “You speak in riddles again.”

Michael lowered himself to one knee and folded battle-scarred hands over his bent leg. “The key will reveal itself in time. For now you need to protect the treasure. You have been given eternal life to do so. Death cannot claim you.”

He stared at his rescuer turned jailor, anger and desperation and defeat churning inside him. “You lied.”

Michael cocked a brow in question.

“This is hell.”

Nook | Kindle | Carina Press

Cutting Room Floor

Its that time of the week again! Cutting room floor. This is the time I invite authors to post those darlings that didn’t make it into their wips but for whatever reason they’re unable (unwilling?) to delete those words entirely. I have to admit, I have pages and pages of cut scenes and lines that I simply can’t part with (Her Dark Knight has 85 pages alone!)

So here’s mine from The Notorious Lady Jane, my pirate historical (not sold yet):

He turned away from the window and limped toward the library where Isabelle and Morgan had been sequestered all morning since the rain kept everyone from the ships’ repairs.

Her voice drove him forward. The soft murmur that haunted his dreams in the middle of the night propelled him toward her. He couldn’t understand the words but it didn’t matter. Her voice alone was enough.

Pausing at the closed door, he pressed his hand to it. By opening the door and stepping in he would turn his back on everything he knew, everything he was, everything he’d hoped to be. He couldn’t fool himself into believing otherwise. Was it worth it? Could he do it?

He closed his eyes, so tempted to turn around. The lure of walking out of the house and never looking back was potent, but not overwhelming. He was being lured to the dark side and was powerless to stop it.



Ranger or Joe

I’m not gonna lie, I can’t wait for this movie to come out this Friday. I’ve read all of the numbered books and a few of the between-the-numbers books. But it took a lot of convincing to get me to read them. I’m not a fan of first person. I like to read multiple point of views and so I held off on this series until my then critique partner told me I had to read them. Oh. My.

That summer I read all of them. I think at the time there were thirteen or fourteen . Yup–read them all in one summer. As soon as I put one down , I picked the other up .

So, the big question is: Ranger or Joe?



I’m a Ranger fan myself. Oh, I know, Joe is the stable one, the one you bring home to dinner at your parents.

But Ranger…

Oh, my ::fanning face::. Ranger is the bad boy, the exciting one, the dark and mysterious one. Joe is the one you settle down with AFTER playing with Ranger. I mean, come on, who else thinks Ranger’s, “Babe” is sexy as hell?

Janet Evanovich is brilliant. As a romance author I strive to strike a balance with my hero–bad boy with a soft, inner core. A bad boy that a woman can eventually tame and turn into that stable man we all want. Janet threw all that out the window. Instead she created two heroes–the light and the dark, the bad and the good. Its what keeps us reading–who will Stephanie choose?

Who would you choose?

Six Sentence Sunday

Happy Sunday! Welcome to Six Sentence Sunday where a bunch of very talented authors get together and post six sentences from either a current work-in-progress or something already published. My six sentences are from my current wip–a contemporary Knights Templar story.

“You summoned?” Julian leaned a heavily muscled shoulder against a tree and looked down at the toes of his boots as if the dirt caked there was more important than being called by the two most powerful angels. He lifted his head to pierce Michael with a green-eyed stare of impertinence.

Michael’s glare seemed to amuse the Templar, and the more amused Julian became, the more ferocious Michael’s look.

“We need your help,” Gabriel said, intervening before swords clashed—which they were wont to do on occasion.

Julian’s brow rose but he didn’t take his gaze off Michael.


Don’t forget to visit other authors and their Six Sentence Sunday.

Sweet Saturday Sample

Happy Saturday, everyone!!! Today’s Sweet Saturday Sample is from my historical romance, The Notorious Lady Jane. Lady Jane has a choice to make, one that will change the course of her life and possibly the destiny she’d always thought was for her:

Had she turned so cold and hard she would throw a good man’s life away for her own dreams?

Sweat beaded on her brow, but not Parker’s. He watched her with a calmness she’d never seen in a man so close to death. And she’d seen many men close—men who cried and begged, who cursed and wet themselves.

Her gaze went to the paper. Dark smudges of dirt marred its once pristine surface. Like her. She was once pristine, but now her soul was layered in filth.

Revenge? Or Reed Parker’s life? God help her, she didn’t know.

She craved her revenge. But she didn’t want the guilt of an honorable man’s soul resting on her shoulders. Her lips tingled with their remembered kiss. Her first kiss and likely her only. Not many men wanted to kiss her, afraid of what she would do to them if they attempted.

She could choose the paper and fear the wrath of Kenmar and the others who placed Parker on the Pride. She could choose the paper and continue her mission without delay.

Cutting Room Floor

I’m a writer (well, duh, you say) which means that every single word I put on a page is my baby. Every. Single. I birthed those words and sometimes, a lot of times, it hurt! But not every word makes the final cut. A lot of them–a LOT–have to go. Either because they slowed the pace down, the scene changed or it was out of character. But I can’t simply hit the delete button on those babies. Good or bad, they’re my words. So I keep them, and for every book I write I create a folder called “Cutting Room Floor.Insert name of book”. That folder stays with me because sometimes, not often, but sometimes I’ll use those words again.

They’re good words, sometimes really well written paragraphs that make me want to cry when I can’t use them. So I decided to make a use for them. Each week (I’m thinking of Wednesdays, but we’ll see how it works), I’m going to post something that made it to the cutting room floor. And I’m going to encourage other writers to post their cutting room floor snippets (because most of us simply can’t let loose those babies).

Today’s cutting room floor comes from my newest release, Her Dark Knight (where I have a whopping 85 pages of cut scenes):

“Are you certain of this?”

She hesitated before nodding and he took satisfaction in the small hesitation. It gave him hope. It seemed lately it was the only thing he could keep hold of—his hope.

“You will call if you need me?”

“Your number is programmed into my phone.” Her whiskey-colored eyes were huge and moist with perpetual unshed tears.

“I hate to leave you here alone,” he admitted, but stopped before he begged her to return with him.

“I’ll be fine.” She stood on her tiptoes and kissed his cheek. A sisterly, affectionate kiss that seared his skin where her lips had touched and left him wanting more.

“I’ll be fine.” She stepped back.

His cue to leave. He moved toward the door, hesitated, then walked through, closing it firmly behind him. For long moments he stood in the hall, listening to her move about. He even placed his hand on the door, but felt only cold wood.

We’re very much strangers, she had said and Christien had to fight to keep his breathing even, to keep her from seeing how much her words had hurt. Yes, to her they were strangers.

But to him, she was everything.


Reader Rally! ***CONTEST***


Click on image for a list of participating blogs

Come join us and WIN PRIZES! That’s right, I said WIN PRIZES! Tons of great blogs are giving away awesome prizes and Romance at Random is giving away a grand prize!

I’ll be giving away a download of my newest release, Her Dark Knight, to one lucky person. All you have to do is leave a comment on this post telling me one other blog you visited.

Winner will be drawn at random using and will be announced on February 1, 2012.

Good luck!

Madelaine Alexander is on a mission. When her boss sends her to the hottest nightclub in town to meet with the owner, she won’t be deterred, even if that means standing in line for fifty-eight minutes in torturous heels while she’d rather be home in her pj’s with a bowl of popcorn.

A Knight of the Templar, Christien Chevalier was given immortality along with the responsibility of protecting the treasure of the Templars. He’s been unwavering in his task for centuries until his one true love—who died seven hundred years ago—shows up in his club, demanding his attention.

Christien couldn’t protect Madelaine when they first fell in love. She was married to a lord and he was simply a knight. Now, through some unknown miracle, she stands before him again and they have a second chance. But Christien fears that Madelaine is being used as a pawn in a dangerous game, a game of good versus evil that could affect all of mankind…

Six Sentence Sunday

Its that time again. Six Sentence Sunday! Because its so cold and windy and, well, cold, I wanted something that will warm us up. A sexy female pirate, a hot nobleman and an even hotter tropical island. This is from The Notorious Lady Jane (as yet unpublished):

Reed sighed and turned to her. The heat was stifling, the breeze non-existent. Sweat dampened his shirt, plastering it to his chest, outlining the chiseled muscles beneath. Muscles she’d laid her hand against for the glorious moments she kissed him.

She turned her gaze back to the blasted barnacles, refusing to look or be tempted.


She closed her eyes at her whispered name, willing him away. Maybe she should build a bloody dungeon to put him in.