Hey the last of my Scottish Love Songs is out.  It's titled THE LAIRD'S DAUGHTER and I think this is one of my favorite books of all time that I've written, certainly the favorite of the three book series.  This book has lots of action and wonderful characters, a brave and handsome hero, a beautiful and courageous heroine, terrific secondary characters and a fierce and vicious villians that get their comeuppance. 

Am I bragging too much?  Well, it's hard not to.  Like a proud mother hen with her amazing little chicks, I want to show them off.  I want people to discover them and be as impressed as I am.  As a writer, we just can't take credit for our H/H because they take over the story and move it where it needs to go.  That's part of the fun of writing.  Getting to know about these interesting, fantastic people who fill up their whole world and for a time, yours as well. 

Let me tell you a little something about them.

Anna is Laird Ewan MacDougall's eight year old daughter when she sees her father murdered and beheaded by Archibald Campbell.  Only the quick action of the priest, Father Cowan saves her life. At first, unable to speak from the shock of all she's seen, Anne is mute.   Eventually, she regains her voice, but continues with the goose girl disguise and becomes the leader of her broken clan, leading them to battles against Baen, Archibald's right hand man, who's harshness toward her clansmen has caused them to hate and rebel against the man.

Rafe Campbell has been called on by his uncle to help put down uprisings by the clansmen he rules.  When he arrives at Dunollie, the castle once held by the MacDougalls, he's appalled at the poor conditions of the villagers and their lack of crops and cattle which is a sure indication of hunger in the winter months.  But Rafe must face other problems, when Baen challenges him and gathers his own army to go against Dunollie.  Rafe finds a surprising friend in Annie the mute and crippled goose girl.  And he finds desire such as he never expected when he comes upon a beautiful woodsprite.

This book has many twists and turns.  It was fun to write and has a wonderful romantic ending.  Now I have to leave these favorite characters behind and get to work on my next project which is a complete change of pace.  Leaving the Historical genre behind, I'm writing a story of Maxie Donovan, a fancy lingerie retailer who's life is in danger because she witnessed a murder.  Only a Gerard Butler look-a-like lawyer can save her, but who's going to save him from Maxie?   .

There she is in all her glory, The Country Wife, a brave wonderful heroine who's not trying to save the world just one tiny baby, the daughter of her brother and her best friend.  Lilli MacGregor, alias Lilli Hardy has a load of trouble.  Not only has she watched her brother hanged, delivered his baby from its dying mother, fled from the leader of one of Scotland's most powerful clans, but now she must rescue a wounded Callum MacAllister, the new Laird of Lister Castle, who has been set upon by his distant cousin, Robert Lister who lays claim to the title and castle.Taking refuge in a lonely, secluded crofter's cottage set high on Tollis Hill, Lilli struggles to deny her growing feelings for the handsome laird.

Wounded, Callum MacAllister must depend upon a beautiful young woman who has too many secrets of her own.  As she nurses him back to health, he tries not to become ensnared by her bravery and beauty, but when she at last confides in him, he can't resist her.  Maddened by her presence, he is finally free to claim her as his own and finds a love such as he never expected.

I wrote THE COUNTRY WIFE some years ago, after my husband and I had been to Scotland.  We visited every castle we could find and I bought so many research books, we had to buy another case in which to bring them home.  My husband, God bless his soul, was so understanding.  All my books were written by Scottish lords and scholars and I thought who better to know?  There was one book in particular that had to do with common folks, their dwellings, plenishings (furniture), clothing, chores, weapons and so on, I was fascinated and wanted to write about this side of life.  I've written about Scottish Castles enough.  So from this came the story of Lilli and Callum.  They made a wonderful couple and I'm so proud of them.  .  . 

More Gorgeous Covers

Didn't I tell you these were gorgeous covers?  I love the colors, love the heroes and heroines and I hope you all love the story.  They were such great fun to write.

THE PIRATE PRINCE is about and Indian Prince, Rajak, whose brother has taken his throne and tried to kill him.  In retaliation Rajack turns pirate and takes back as much of the fabulous wealth of the Peacock Throne as he can.  He also takes his brother's bride to be, Azare.  He hadn't planned to fall in love with her, but the gods had other plans.

Azare must decide where her fate will lie, as second wife to an unscrupulous man or as the wife of Rajak.  Passion-filled, tropical nights on the Indian Ocean and on the island of Madagascar bring her love and desire such as she's never known.  She ties her fate to Rajaks and together they claim their future.

A PIRATE'S KISS is probably my favorite.  Faith leaves behind her English family to go in search of her missionary father, but her ship is damaged in a storm, then pirates attack, then she's kidnapped by those very same pirates for the express purpose of servicing each and every one of them until the captain rescues her.  But who's going to rescue her from Hunter Reed?

Knowing that her life as a missionary will hold little in the way of love and sexual discoveries, Faith decides to offer herself to Hunter.  She didn't expect to fall in love with him.  He's a pirate or is he?  As she struggles to save Hunter from a hangman's rope, Faith learns new things about this enigmatic man, about herself and about the ways between a man and a woman.

It's so much fun to write dashing tales of pirates and innocent young heroines who are unafraid to let go of their old life to find fulfillment in the arms of a handsome hero.  Hope you enjoy it.

More Romance on the High Seas

Here is the picture of my fourth Pirate book, part of the Pirate Booty series from Resplendence Publishing..  Isn't it beautiful and I've seen the covers on the other two books and they are gorgeous as well!  I'm so excited about them.  People are going to just be blown away by the vibrant colors and beautiful characters and they'll want to buy my book right away and hopefully they'll love my handsome heroes and beautiful, courageous heroines.

In THE BLACK PIRATE, Mary Cormack is caught in a storm and nearly drowns until rescued by an American Pirate, Captain Caleb Howard, sailing under the auspices of Benjamin Franklin and the new American government trying to free their sailors held in British prisons.  Caught up in the danger and intrigue, Mary can't resist the handsome captain while Caleb falls for the feisty Irish lass.. They throw away all restraints and fight for their passion.

Exciting News

I have so many projects in the fire, that I've neglected many things along the way. Unfortunately, one of them was my blog. I want to tell you all about what I've been doing.

First of all,I sold ten books at one time and have been hard at work on those. I've also had my first pirate trilogy, called PIRATE'S BOOTY come out in print. The book looks fantastic. They used the cover shot from my first book in the series, called THE VIRGIN PIRATE and it's beautiful and sexy Besides THE VIRGIN PIRATE, HER PIRATE LOVER, AND THE PIRATE BRIDE are also in the trilogy. The books are available at ResplendencePublishing.com, ARe publishing and at Amazon.com and best of all, if your budget can't swing the print book, they're still available in e-books. So read your heart out.

Now as for what I've been working on. I'm revisiting the Pirate Booty Series, by adding three more books. The first one is already out, called THE BLACK PIRATE a tale based on some fact. Under Benjamin Franklin's orders, Caleb Howard is in charge of several ships who sail to Ireland to capture as many British ships and prisoners as possible so they can trade for American prisoners, one of them is Caleb's brother. Along the way they rescue a shipwrecked Irish lass and her wild wolf dog, who join the American pirates.

The second book in the series is finished and going through edits. It's called THE PIRATE PRINCE, definitely a departure from my normal pirate stories. This one is set in the Indian Ocean and involves a Mogul Prince from India and a Persian Princess who sails to India as the bride of his brother, who has poisoned their father and stolen the fabulous Peacock Throne. Again, this is loosely based on facts. Lots of intrigue, excitement and sex.

The next book in the series is the one I'm working on now. It's called A PIRATE'S KISS about a buccaneer who has papers from the English government to infiltrate the pirates plaguing England's shipping lanes, especially Captain Kidd. He finds himself with a missionary on his hands, a woman on her way to India to join her father in his mission. She seems to spend every waking hour on her knees. He can think of better things for her to do on her knees than pray, but tries to respect her calling until he realizes how beautiful and desirable she truly is.

After I finish the last pirate story in this series, I'll be working on the third in the Dark Paradise series, a vampire trilogy about vampire hunters who must fight their attractions for vampires. The first two, DARK PARADISE and DARK SECRETS tell of the Stanislaus brothers and their attempt to capture wily vampires, one in Michigan, the other in Ireland and the beautiful women who claim their very souls. This third book, DARK SURRENDER is about their younger sister, MARISKA who is only a 100 year old virgin who's about to learn about wicked, handsome Vampires.

After these books, I'll be doing a trilogy called A SEASON OF WITCHES and another Scottish trilogy called SCOTTISH LOVE SONGS. By the way, my last Scottish trilogy, FROM THE SEA will be out in print soon. So there you are. You know what I'm doing a lot of and loving every minute of it. Happy Reading to you all.

THE BROODING HERO

When someone says, brooding hero, I immediately think of Mr. Rochester in Jane Eyre or Heathcliff and I remember the vicarious thrill I got in first meeting such difficult characters and how happy when the heroine is able to tame his savage heart. I've always loved a good brooding hero. That's why in borth of my recent books from Resplendence Publishing, HER PIRATE LOVER and DARK PARADISE, I've used the brooding hero. They just worked perfectly. And in each book I tempered their brooding quality with a touch of humor or with a heroine so sweet and appealing even my brooding hero couldn't resist. I think a brooding hero brings out such a knee jerk reaction on our part (our being every red blooded romantic woman) to change them and bring them to the light. My heroines do just that, but not in a calculating, manipulative way. In HER PIRATE LOVER, Hawke's dark soul is intent on revenge and he means to use the beautiful, virginal Abella as his means, but Abella's purity and her generous open heart capture him and show him what love is all about. Abella changes Hawke so his love for her is stronger than his need for revenge, but will have to give her up, after all? DARK PARADISE's Romanian Vampire Hunter, Matthew Stanislaus is another brooding hero. The very nature of his quest leaves him longing for a simpler more normal life which he believe has slipped beyond his grasp. And the woman who might be able to save him is coping with her own destiny as she slowly turns to one of the undead. I used humor to soften the grim darkness of this story and Had a wonderful time writing it. Matthew and Molly went along with my approach and in the end found solutions for both their problems. I don't think either book would have been as touching if I hadn't used a brooding hero. I wouldn't like ever book I write to have such an intense character, but for these two books, they worked.

October Whee

Hi everyone. Welcome to my blog. I try to get on here once in a while and post my thoughts about this and that. Six years ago I wrote a paranormal, a vampire book. I'd said for years I'd never write one. How could they be romantic and sexy. Every time I thought of a vampire lover, I thought of Gary Oldman, who is a fantastic actor but just not sexy in my book and the thought of his skinny chest was a real turnoff. Even the vampire movie starring not only Tom Cruise, Brad Pitt and Antonio Banderos turned me off on vampire lovers. They ate rats!! Enough said. Well, Antonio didn't and maybe that's why he's held a special place in my fantasies.

Anyway, I got around the problem of a vampire hero by making my heroine the vampire. Women can do anything in my book, so I made this poor innocent, bored thirtyish librarian meet up with Vasilek the evil, get bitten by the aforementioned monster and saved by a sexy as sin Hungarian vampire hunter who makes her mouth water. It was fun to write and now I'm working on a sequel with one of the characters in DARK SHADOWS. Nope, no hero vampires in this one either, just a taciturn, determined vampire hunter who runs into a sexy, playful Cat and learns, all work and no play is not good for the soul or anything else!

Now for some soulful thoughts. I ran into this note I'd written some years ago and decided it's still pertinent today.
Are we as individuals really unique, original or are we copy cats of what's gone before?To be or not to be. Hey, if Shakespere used it, why can't i? It was probably a common saying back then and he just pilfered it!
If a tree falls in a forest and no one hears it, etc. etc. Can we honestly under stand ourselves-better yet- I suggest this gleefully-can we understand who and what we are before we hit our forties? I remember my thirties as a time when I wanted to achieve, wanted to know there was more to me than the sum total of kitchen stove, washing machine and marriage bed, the instruments of my greatest triumphs, thus far. That was back when I fell into bed to tired to think of any fun things to do there. We are born, said I, in full dramatic cry, in the isolation of our suburban ranchers when we let go of those unknowning young women we had been and become someone new-someone who finds the courage to take pen and paper and write down what great things we think we've learned. Our new egos engage and we dare to believe what we think is worthy of other people's notice. Somewhere we stop looking at what other people are doing and thinking because we've become too busy doing and thinking and acting on new goals. Daring kicks in and we go forward unafraid, impatient with ourselves for the time we've wasted in getting here. Yet it was all part of the process. And you know what I'm liking what that whole process kicked out. I'm awesome! I'll bet you are too!

October is a Happy Month

Hi Everyone.
I can hardly believe September is nearly over and October with all its color and excitement is right around the corner. October is doubly exciting for me. I have not one but two books coming out.

The first is the sexy, beautiful love story, HER PIRATE LOVER, the second in my Pirate Booty series. I love this story, because it has a pirate captain, Black Hawke, who plans to use the innocent, virginal and very beautiful Frenchwoman, Abella Roche as a pawn in his scheme for revenge, but Abella, who is brave enough to throw aside her very life for a few weeks of happiness in the arms of a pirate, teaches him that love is stronger than revenge. Check out the sexy cover for HER PIRATE LOVER.

The second book for October is a funny paranormal about a small town librarian, Molly Prescott, who's bitten by a vampire, and Matthew Stanislaus, a Rumanian Vampire Slayer who tries to save her, but knows in the end he may have to kill her. Together they try to fight off vampires who want to kill Molly and harvest her DNA, and members of a Holy Order sworn to eradicate Vampires from the earth, all this without falling in love, but it's too late. Check out the cover for this one. What run!

If you Dare!

Okay, Everybody, Here's an excerpt from my new book, DIRTY LITTLE SECRETS. Hope you enjoy!
A pounding at the door startled her. Slowly, she rose from her desk chair, flicked off the light and slid out into the hall to peer around a wall of the reception area. Beyond the windows, the streets were dark with an oily sheen cast by streetlights on wet pavement. A light rain had started to fall. A man stood outside on the sidewalk. He looked tough, mean even. Probably a cop.

He saw her and motioned her to open up. She played dumb, shaking her head to indicate she wasn’t open. He persisted. She knew the kind. He’d never go away unless he got what he wanted. But what the hell could he want from her? She bit her lip, hesitating, then decided.

“We’re closed. It's after office hours,” she said, opening the door an inch. Now she could see him better and absently noted a scar that cut across his lower lip and down his chin. Still, he was attractive, tall and dark, his face rugged. The shoulders of his cheap suit were filled nicely and she bet his trousers were filled just as nicely.

He waited silently while she made her perusal.

“See anything you like?” he asked, grinning. He stepped closer, the movement raw and challenging in its power ploy.

“I told you we’re closed.”

“I’m not looking to buy your services, Billie,” he said, but his gaze said otherwise. He was in the market all right for what she wasn’t selling. He stuck the toe of a black loafer in the door. She braced her small frame to keep him from any further intrusion. Her short skirt slid up revealing a good portion of thigh and he leered.

“What do you want?” she demanded, scowling. “And how do you know my name?”

“I do my homework. I just want to talk,” he said, tearing his gaze away from her anatomy. His dark gaze caught hers, bold and challenging and totally unyielding.

“What about?” she asked, trying to sound as tough as he looked.

“Let me in and I’ll explain. Here.” He held up a badge. “I’m a cop.” His expression was implacable.

“Is this the way cops question honest citizens?” she demanded without yielding one inch.

“If we have to. Open up.”

“Not by the hair on my chinny-chin-chin,” she quipped. He shoved, hard and fast, catching her unawares so she flew backward and sprawled on the floor. Her skirt flew up, the hem nesting in her crotch.

“Nice view,” he commented.

“You son of a bitch,” she raged, jumping to her feet and extracting a tiny stiletto she kept hidden in the top of her stockings. She flew at him, the weapon raised, ready to cut out his black heart.

He sidestepped her onrush, took hold of her wrist and twisted so the stiletto fell from her nerveless fingers and she was caught in his iron grip, her back against the solid wall of his chest, her derriere nestled against his crotch. She felt his cock harden and push against her and she struggled, but he held fast.

“If you really are a cop, I’ll call your superior and have you on suspension so fast, you won’t be able to snap your shorts,” she threatened. “What’s your name and badge number?”

“I’m asking the questions here. Tell me your full name.”

“Bastard, if you don’t know who I am, why did you attack me? What do you want with me? Let go.”

“Not until I’m sure you don’t have some other little surprise hidden in your stockings, Billie.” He jerked her around so now she faced him, although she was still pressed as tightly to his hard body as before and this time, she felt his arousal grind against her belly. His hands surged over her body thoroughly and completely, searching for additional weapons. He grinned. He was liking this.

“You want to do a cavity search too?” she snapped.

“I’m willing, if you are.” His dark eyes held humorous lights.

“You bastard cop,” she cried, outraged. “I’ll kill you if you try to touch me again.”

“Like you killed Pepe Cosimero?”

“I don’t know who you’re talking about,” she said, growing still for a moment. She had an inkling. He stepped back from her, pushing his dark hair off his forehead.

“I think you do,” he said quietly. “I need some answers, Billie, and I need them now.”

“Go to hell,” she cried and broke away from him, running back toward her office. Darkness had fallen over the city and the lower level of her building lay in shadows. He was right behind her; she could hear the thud of his shoes against the floor. His hand closed over her shoulder in a cruel grip that made her cry out with pain.

He threw her backward. She collided with the wall hard enough to jolt the breath from her body. For a moment she leaned, struggling to draw in air, then he was on her, his hands hard as they gripped her arms and pinned them against the wall above her head. He let the solid weight of his body trap her so she couldn’t struggle against him. She felt the heat and tensile strength of his body. Her breasts flattened against his chest, his pelvis ground against her, his arousal was complete now, hard and turgid against her mound.

She felt a betraying surge of desire and screamed her frustration. She’d never given in willingly to rape and she wouldn’t now. She’d killed the last man who tried. She’d kill this one. She bucked against him, but he rode her back against the wall and in that moment, something changed in the way he held her and the way she responded to him. She sensed it and shook her head wildly against the changing emotions. Though he still held her tightly, his clasp no longer hurt her.

His hands were large so one was all that was needed to hold her wrists above her head. He was leaning into her, breathing hard, his dark gaze studying her face. Their breath intermingled, their gazes caught and held. He moved against her slightly, the motion less punitive, more seductive. His gaze still holding hers, he slowly lowered his free hand and ran it over the curve of her breast.

In their struggle her jacket had come undone and the only thing between his flesh and hers was a thin silk camisole. The full roundness of her breast rested in his palm as if it had come home. She felt her nipple harden, felt the answering tingle between her legs. Her thighs twitched to part. Time stood still, went backward to some more fundamental evolution where all that mattered was a man and a woman wanting each other.

The Inner Pirate!

My new book is out from Resplendence Publishing. It's the first of a three book Pirate's Booty Series. This book is called THE VIRGIN PIRATE and I'm very excited about.

Here's just a tiny excerpt from it. You can go to Resplendence publishing for more information.

Excerpt:She stared at him, trying to understand the meaning of his words, then blushed as she thought of how she must seem to him. Carefully, she laid the stripped bone back on her plate and wiped her hands on her bodice. He winced.
“What?” she asked.
“Madam, you’ve just soiled a beautiful ball gown of some considerable value. I doubt that grease can ever be removed by even the most diligent laundress.”
“Are you questioning my manners?” she demanded. “I assure you I’ve been taught by a gentleman how to behave at table.” Which was true. Cedric Bickford had complimented her on her deportment and offered his knowledge on how a lady should conduct herself. Still, she felt the heat of shame mount her cheeks. Obviously, she’d done something wrong in this man’s estimation. She grabbed her tankard and drank deeply of the rich red wine and felt only a little better. This wasn’t going as she’d planned. She’d thought to spend time with an English gentleman and learn more about the world beyond this ship. But she knew she’d wanted more than that. She’d wanted to dazzle this English nobleman with her beauty and intelligence. She wanted… She couldn’t put words to it.
Ever since she’d seen him standing on the deck of his burning ship, she’d felt a stirring such as she’d never known before, and she wanted to explore those feeling. She wanted to be kissed by a man and to feel the passion between man and woman, not the animal rutting she’d seen her men engage in, but the soft, sensuous mating between two people. Bickford had offered her that, in fact, at every opportunity, he’d tried to seduce her into bed, but she’d felt nothing for him. She couldn’t say that about the tall nobleman who sat across from her, his eyes condemning her every move.
Humiliation stung her, and she covered it with anger. “I can always call Skelly to take you back to the brig,” she snapped, slamming her tankard against the table.
“Aye, you could, Madam, if that is your wish.” He regarded her coolly with eyes gone all dark and unreadable.
“Nay,” she said belatedly, “’tis not what I had in mind. As for my gown, it doesn’t matter if I’ve soiled it. I have many more.”
“No doubt acquired in the same manner as this one?”
“What do you know of a lady’s wardrobe?” she inquired sharply.
“I know about that gown. I purchased it, for a dear price I might add, for my fiancée.”
She was left speechless while her thoughts flashed to the dainty creature for whom he’d intended the gown. He could imagine some other woman floating down a grand staircase trailing the lovely silk peacock skirt behind her.
“You may have it back,” she said huffily. “I don’t care much for its color.”
“That’s too bad. The color seems created especially for you. However, I would be remiss not to inform you that you are sadly overdressed.”
“What do you mean?” she asked, looking down at the lovely gown with the greasy smears across the bodice.
“That garment is meant to be worn for an evening gala, not as an afternoon dress.”
She opened her mouth in consternation, but no words of rebuttal came.
“Ah, but no matter,” he said. “A lady may wear what she wishes, when she wishes. Now, tell me, Madam. What have you in mind for me besides ransoming at the end of this voyage?” His voice was deceptively soft. It hummed along her nerve endings and made her long for more, for a touch that would be as soft.
“I…” She raised her head but couldn’t meet his gaze. “Well, you’re a ship’s captain and a…a lord and my prisoner and—”
His gaze was too knowing, too sure. Hell be damned, he was on to her. She pushed her plate aside and walked around the table, coming to a stop very close to him, so he could smell the costly scent she’d poured over herself.
“You are my prisoner,” she said firmly, “and I can do with you. Whatever I wish. And I’ve decided to take you to my bed.”
“Ah, I’m to follow in Bickford’s…er…footsteps.”
“He was never in my bed.” She glared at him.
“’Tis not the tale he gives in London,” he said.
“Then he lies. He wanted to bed me, but I refused. I only wanted him to tell me about life in London society and…how to be a lady.”
“Nevertheless, that is his claim.” His expression showed very clearly which of them he believed.
With a sharp rustle of her skirts, she turned and paced the cabin. “The blackguard,” she muttered.
“Aye, he is that, and if you’ve relied upon him for advice on, what was the word you used? Deportment? I’m afraid he’s failed you there as well.” He watched her pace. “As for you taking me to your bed, madam. You need a willing partner, and I am not he. You might better have taken Bickford while you had the chance. I do not want you.” His tone was mocking, disbelieving of her denials.
Her cheeks grew hot and a red haze blinded her so she could barely see him, barely breathe for the insult he’d paid her yet again. She’d been too considerate, she saw now. She would take what she wanted as her men did. It was her right as captain of this ship, as the victor.
“It doesn’t matter if you want me,” she said and threw herself into his lap. She felt the long, hard length of him against her buttocks and suppressed a shiver. Startled, he made no move, so she ground her lips against his while her hands roved to the front of his breeches and gripped his cock, which had hardened since her assault. Her hand dove beneath the soft cloth of his breeches and gripped his hot flesh. She squeezed and began to pump her hand up and down. She wasn’t sure this was what he liked, but she’d seen a sailor relieve himself in this manner once and he’d seemed to like it just fine.
But Lord Trey Carlyle seemed destined to confound her in every way. His strong hand gripped hers, stilling her frantic pumping action. He pulled her hand over her head and rose so she would have been dumped on the floor if not for his hold on her. As it was, she stumbled a bit before she regained her footing and looked into his eyes. There was the blazing anger she’d seen before, the denial and rejection.
She slashed out with her other hand, striking him hard across his face. A red welt rose on one lean cheek, but he made no acknowledgment of her blow.
“Madam,” he said from between clenched teeth. “Calm yourself.” He released her hand, flinging it from him.
“I am calm,” she said. “You forget, sir, you are my prisoner and you do not give commands.”
She threw herself against him, knocking him backwards and onto her cot. In a tangle of petticoats, she fell on him and, once again, reached for his cock. It was rock hard now. Wasn’t that proof enough that he wanted her. She pressed herself to him, taking a deep breath and one of her breasts popped out of its tight confines. The nipple bobbled near his mouth, and she longed for him to take it into his mouth and suckle her. She pressed forward so, indeed, her soft pink flesh was pressed against his face. He had but to turn his head.
Instead, he took hold of her waist and pushed her to one side so she fell over the edge of the bed and landed on the floor, the skirts and myriad petticoats riding high above her thighs, her legs bare below her lacy breeches.
He swung to his feet and towered over her. She glared up at him.

Happy News

I just got the cover for the first book in my Pirate's Booty series, called THE VIRGIN PIRATE. The cover is gorgeous but I can't show it to you yet because it's just a draft. I can describe it. It has a gorgeous man with taut buttocks, muscular thighs and long streaming hair and oh yeah, there's a woman on there too. They're standing on the beach, embracing and in the background is a beautiful sailing ship and a long graceful palm tree frames the whole scene. My name, Temple Hogan is in big letters and THE VIRGIN PIRATE in bigger letters and the series name at the bottom. The artist is a genius!

I'm a happy duck today.

I'm very excited about this series. I love pirate stories and to be able to do three of them in a row is so much fun. My heroines are sassy, my heroes, strong and masculine and there's lots of dialogue between the two as they struggle to come together emotionally, since they're already together physically. And there's lots of adventure. I love fast paced stories and all three of these book are that with a HEA, Happily Every After, ending.
The first book will be out in a couple of weeks so I hope you enjoy it. Hey, I'll have to have a contest for my readers! Stay posted.

Lazy Summer Sunday Afternoon

Went to church, had lunch with friends, my weekly trek to the paint store for supplies, so I can use their coupon. I'm all about saving, but I'm a terrible spend thrift. Back home at the lake now with the sun shining and the mahogany leaves of our Red Maple moving slightly in the gentle breeze. I feel like I'm in a tower, my very own tower where I can do whatever I wish for as long as I wish. What a delicious feeling.

I've just finished the second pirate story in my Pirate trilogy and have the third one outlined and ready to start writing. The characters are fun and a little crazy. Charlie's all about survival and Jackson is just plain pissed off because the woman he'd been screwing and planning to marry has decided to marry someone else. It's not love at first sight when Jackson and Charlie meet, but it is first lust. Whoo, hope I can get them to behave - or not, which would be more fun.

So my lovely week is planned out ahead for me. I'll go to the gym in the morning for water aerobics and go to my paint class in the afternoon, make a salad for my husband and me and write my little head off. Lovely week ahead. My little companion Tsih Tzu will most likely be at the foot of the twin bed looking out the window guarding his domain. He thinks this feels like being in a tower too.

Life and Death

Nothing makes us cling so intensely to life than facing death, a near death experience of our own or the lose of a loved one. Such has been the case for me recently when I lost a good friend whom I had known for forty years. She was a young woman, active in her church as well as her sorority and other organizations. Gracious and graceful in her handling of many events, she was the president of our sisterhood. I never heard her say an unkind word to anyone or about anyone. She was brave through a battle over several years against cancer, never seeking or wanting pity. To think she's no longer here is too difficult to contemplate.

So I find myself saying prayers of thanksgiving to God that I'm still here, that my family members whom I love so much are alive and well. Then you feel selfish for having such thoughts, then you tell yourself, not to rejoice would be selfish. God has given us life and even in death, we must celebrate life.

Finally, that takes me to my writing. There I am god. I consider whether my characters live or die and I've done so callously in the past, but in the future I will think twice about the importance of life and even in the importance of death and how it will affect the characters in my books. For when a reader picks up your book, she's looking for more than a few hours of entertainment, she's expecting to find honesty in your words, in the emotions you evoke on behalf of your characters. We live through our characters, writer and reader alike, so there can be no sham, just as there should never be in life and never is in death. Those are moments of such complete honesty, when we must face our mortality and look to God for our salvation, when we must face the lose of that loved one and let them go.

Never give up is a term we hear often. It's said with such fierceness. Never give up! But inevitably and finally, we must give up, give up our loved ones and in doing so, learn to give up our own life in the end and face the unknown of the grave, trusting that God is truly there for us. Never give up until you have to, then we must take a page from those who go before us. We must learn from their gracefulness and bravery. We must learn to give up.

Hounds of Summer

Or is that Dog Days of Summer? Either way it's blazingly hot. We're tucked into our cottage on the lake, with the air conditioners blaring. Who cares if the flowers are blooming, the warm lake breezes blowing, the water's warming and the boats are ready to go. Give me cool, cool, cool, dammit.

It's been a crazy spring, my grandson came and stayed with us a few days before going into Basic training for the Navy. My 7 year old grandson is visiting and he's become a computer nerd, until we mention boat ride and then he comes out of his funk. My 18 mo. grand daughter is visiting and loves the lake, the boats and being outdoors. We all have to run and watch her so she doesn't go near the water.

In between all the visiting and my outside activities (I do a lot of paint classes.) I've been busy with edits on my Ellora Cave book, DIRTY LITTLE SECRETS. Haven't been given a pub date on it yet, but the edits are finished so it can't be long now.

My first Pirate book, VIRGIN PIRATE will be out July 9 and the second one which I just finished writing HER PIRATE LOVER will be out in mid October. As I said I just finished writing HER PIRATE LOVER and fell in love with the characters myself. Each time I write a book, I grow to love my characters but Hawke is a sexy, sexy man, but then so is Trey Carlylse from VIRGIN PIRATE and the women in both books, Nellie and Abella, know just how to handle men. Wish I knew as much as they do. Now I'm ready to start the third book in the PIRATE BOOTY series. I'm already starting to love the characters in this book, which will be American pirates. I think I'll call it, THE PIRATE BRIDE. Charlie is another female pirate who's met her match in Buccaneer Jackson Payne. Jackson spends most of his time trying to save Charlie from herself and the American government who's determined to rid the waters of the infamous Pirate, Red Charlie. When Jackson discovers she's a woman and what a woman, he looks at things a lot differently. I think I'll have fun with this story.

In the meantime rewriting another book, Dark Paradise about a girl named Molly who got bit!!

So that's how I'm spending my hot summer days. How are yours going?

Tootling Along

Some days are just plain ordinary days that don't bring any special discoveries and no surprises, yet those days are just as precious in our lives and one with all sorts of rewards. Today is such a day, but as I look back over the past few days I think of all the things I've learned.

For instance, we had a wonderful speaker at our monthly writer's meeting who showed us how using astrology and sun signs can help us understand our characters better. I've never been one for following sun signs or horoscopes, but our speaker had us do some workshops using horoscopes and lo and behold I found myself delving deeper into my charater. This is definitely a source I will use again to better understand where my charters are coming from and where they're going.

Then I learned that I must tighten up on some of my writing. I got a wonderful rejection letter that spelled out what my weaknesses and strengths are. Point of view is something I've been rather sloppy about, changing from the hero's pov to the heroine's pov. It's fun to make that transition quickly from one paragraph to the next. You can fully exploit what the characters are feeling especially in a love scene, but though I may enjoy it, a reader might become confused by the changing povs. My new goal is to really pay attention to that. I think my writing might be stronger as a result of it. It's easy to get sloppy, but if you want your writing to become stronger, you have to always be mindful of what you're doing.

So that's my learnin's for now. I expect every day I'll go forward, learning and doing better. After all I've only been writing for 30 years and you can't learn everything in that amount of time.

Zowie, Saturday

The second Saturday of the month is always one I look forward to. We have our regional writer's meeting, we being known as the Grand Rapids Regional Writer's Group. We eat, even desserts or maybe especially desserts, have our meeting and a program or workshop. Today was on p.o.v. in forming characterizations given by one of our published writers. Really well done. We had some hands-on exercises which were a lot of fun. We do a lot of laughing in our meetings. Writing is such a solitary job that when a bunch of writers get together, we go a little over the top.

We're going to a Writer's Retreat in Fremont next week-end, nearly all of our chapter will be there. We'll order in food, drink margaritas and too much wine, eat too much, write a lot, laugh and tell dirty jokes and be really loud and say outrageous things, and get very little sleep. We do this twice a year and it's a nice break away from our normal routines. Some of our members work so hard, turning out several manuscripts a year as well as editing. They are really devoted, dare I say, even driven. They deserve every ounce of success they have.

So this week, I will follow their good example, and work very hard on finishing this third book, maybe even starting another, and plan my week to get my house and yard work done so I can go off with a clear conscience. And Next Saturday? I'll be laughing and writing and sipping and nibbling and talking and laughing and ---having a really good time. Being a full time writer is not bad, not bad at all.

Zowie, Saturday

How to get yourself in a lot of trouble!

Wow, what a lot of fun I've been having. Sold three books, working to get the third one completed. In the meantime, having to do edits on a computer system that's new to me. Learning a lot about using the computer, but still way behind on what I need to know.

Today I have to put away my computer and do some normal stuff, like clean out my refrigerator (a must) something died in there and when I open the fridge door I have to open windows. It shouldn't be too hard to find the culprit because the fridge is nearly empty. Another chore. Go shopping. Then I'm not even going to talk about the floors that need vacuuming, the tv that needs dusting and a bunch of other stuff. At least I've kept up with the dishes and the laundry. I hate having dirty dishes around because I know who has to clean them and I do like clean underwear so that's a priority for mine.

So today I'm off to the stores to spend money I don't really have and then it's a day of clean, clean, clean. Tomorrow I'll reward myself by going to critique where I'll hear what other writers are working on and get their opinion on my own work. We'll exchange ideas and share information about the writing world and all the while we eat and drink and are otherwise merry. We go to a wonderful Italian place that has great food and lets us sit in a corner for hours with only occasional refills. I guess putting away my computer for a day is not so bad after all.