We’ve been online since the days of Windows3.1 — a long time. I’ve said before, I love information. I’m an information hound. That being the case, the internet was made for me. Just about any thought I have can be tracked down online. What a wonderful resource for a writer. Need a word in another language? –got it. Need names of foreign currency? — yep. Need a term for Victorian imbecile? You bet your oik you’ll find it. You can find bits of just about everything.
Having gone the route of Inter-Library Loan in the years before the wide world web, I’m happy I don’t have to wait to feed my desire to know. My writing doesn’t have to wait either. Don’t get me wrong, there’s nothing like holding a book in your hands. The internet doesn’t rid us of the need for libraries, no, not by any stretch. In my experience as an info hound, librarians are just as important now as ever. Someone has to keep track. Knowledge has expanded exponentially.
But there’s a problem with that, namely, the internet is HUGE. How can you possibly find all the treasures out there waiting to explore? There’s a terrific tool to surf the web with, and it’ll help you dig deeper. I’ll warn you if you have a penchant for surfing now, you’ll need to go into it with your eyes wide open. It’s called StumbleUpon, and it hooked me within three stumbles.
The StumbleUpon tool is a free download easily programmable to your interests. One of my mine is Ancient History. StumbleUpon will scour the internet for sites dealing with that topic. I like crafts, even more craft sites will pop up when I click the stumble button. I’m interested in words, meteorology, science, and religions of the world. I don’t have to wade through a bunch of nothing to find the gems of research. I can like what I like and give the ol’ thumbs down to the pages I don’t. Likes get stored in your account to revisit again and become recommended likes for the StumbleUpon community to share. Unlikes disappear into obscurity and won’t return to your personally programed searches. It’s a very nice tool.StumbleUpon
Hey folks at StumbleUpon, this is a celebrity endorsement. I’m a small fish in a big pond, but hey how about it? lol
So, I’m testing a theory. My blog stats show that since I “liked” my blog on StumbleUpon, I get a lot of people stumbling upon me here. In my ongoing attempt to be that shiny needle at the top of the haystack, I spent a few days making blogs and bloggetts..and Liking them on StumbleUpon. I have this one, my main blog with my domain name. I have another on Blogspot.com that I use just slightly less than this one. The others are static pages for others to stumble upon, and I have nearly a dozen author pages and placeholders around the web. Stop and check them out. Some where tricky, some were simple. I’m giving them a two month test. The following links are just some of the places I haunt — some old and some new. If you know of others, please tell me about them in comments. Thanks!
Thinking about Pinterest today. Spring is knocking on my door, winter is coming to a close, my house is full of visual clues that say stop writing it’s time for spring cleaning!! Friends and family know the Annual Purge is essential to me and they’ll laughingly get out of my way. Even my husband’s colleagues ask if I’m spring cleaning yet. It’s the stuff of legends. For two or three weeks my world stops and every nook and cranny, every drawer, every cabinet, and corner are cleaned. This is my renewal. This is how I find myself each year.
It all started with bad news about twenty-two years ago. I won’t go into that, but it was just plain sad. So sad I wanted to pull a blanket up over my head and sleep, sleep it all away. My soul mate/best friend/husband saw something I hadn’t. I define myself, in part, by my home. My home has always been an eclectic, eccentric canvas and my style, interests, and collections are the blobs of color upon my palette. Up until the sadness hit, we’d only been in this house a few years. We lived with white blah walls waiting on One Of These Days when time and money agreed to change things. He sat beside me, and said, “I want you to redecorate the entire house from top to bottom. I want you to find yourself again.”
There was no grand swapping out of furniture and appliances, no tearing up carpet or laying down new tile. But I painted murals and filled the house with color. I organized and rid myself of the weight of things no longer pertinent to our lives. Then I decorated with all the little things that make a home interesting. And within days, the anchor of sadness pressing me into my mattress had lifted. He was right. I found myself again.
I have been doing this annual event every year since. It’s gone from several truck loads of donations to Goodwill to a few bags in the car and it will last until the holidays come rolling around. Then ever so slowly, one item at a time will creep into my life. I don’t know why I’ll have a dozen wine corks in the requisite junk drawer (every kitchen seems to have such a drawer), but they’ll have to go. Six dead batteries? Yeah they go to. Single socks? You’re outta here. Where did all these paperclips come from? Ratty potholders? Out the door. Cob webs and spiders? You’re out too.
Ok, now what does all that have to do with Pinterest?
Pinterest is a place to organize. I’ve been online for so many years that I’ve naturally collected favorite sites. I’ve come across many interesting places worth visiting again (like this blog). Pinterest is a virtual bulletin board — a pin board if you will. On it I’ve created smaller boards to pin my interests on. Nearly all come with a link that will take me back to those sites I wanted to keep track of. And Pinterest is booming. I’d read recently that Pinterest is the new popular social media and grows more so by the day.
Before I looked at Pinterest as being useful to me, I’d often stumble upon it in random internet searches. It was all about wedding cakes and shoes and stuff I wasn’t remotely interested in. What’s more, it never made sense to me at the time. What was this place with all the mishmash of unrelated items on one page??
Last May I came across an article talking about Pinterest as a media marketing tool. I took a serious look at the site after reading that. Authors spend a good deal of time marketing their books and themselves. The publishing world is a giant haystack and authors are small needles that need to be found so anything pushing those sparkly needles into the light is a good thing.
I made an account and filled it with categories, aka boards, and started pinning things of interest. Only then did I get it — pin things of interest — pin + interest = Pinterest! I devoted an entire month, hours of time, to build a pin board that was both interesting and large enough that people would want to follow me. I had things I wanted to share — amazing pictures, history, science, recipes, crafts, and my books. Through Pinterest I have access to well over 100,000 people each day. If 80% are there looking to shop, and a % are book lovers, and another % of them read romance, that means that’s a bunch of people who’ll find me who might not have found me any other way.
I came upon this recently and it’s a part of a much larger infographic that can be seen here. I recommend seeing the whole thing. As I deal with books, my own specifically, I found number 7 very interesting.
http://www.socialized.me/pinterest-marketing/
Today I’ve added a bunch of pins to my Rose Anderson Romance Author board. They’re all the places I’ve been over the last few months – interviews and guest blogs, newspaper articles, youtube videos, assorted links, etc. I invite you to follow me. I have over 20,000 pins. From crafts to social conscience, I’m one interesting cookie if I do say so myself.
The Swept Away Hop is over and over 100 new visitors stopped by my blog. Tomorrow I’ll sort through the comments and pick a winner for my kindle copy of The Witchy Wolf and the Wendigo. You’ll hear from me if you’ve won. Thanks for participating everyone!
Inthis past Hop I touched upon Loving Leonardo winning the 2012 CataRomance Sensual Reads Reviewer’s Choice Award for Historical Romance. I’m thrilled. Hermes Online got the same under the Contemporary category last year. It’s wonderful when your intellectual creation gets such a nod of appreciation.
After writing the first three chapters I realized these characters might go beyond this story and solve crimes a la Dashiell Hammett’s Nick and Nora Charles. On a whim, I chose their names to go with that idea – Nicolas Halstead and Elenora Schwaab.
The main observer in this romantic tale is Nicolas Halstead, a man of means forced by society to wear a disguise. He’s the narrator here and it’s through his perspective that we see and feel his world. An art historian by profession, Nicolas can’t help but compare life to art. Because of this, he leaves many references to artists and artworks scattered throughout the pages.
Why did I create an interactive art history scavenger hunt in an erotic romance? Probably because I grew up in Chicago. The city is famous for its museums and renowned Art Institute. I’ve seen paintings there that so captured my fancy, I was certain I understood the artist’s emotion behind the artwork. I’ve put several art references in this story. If my readers would like to see what Nicolas sees when he mentions artworks, do look them up. This interactive bit of art history isn’t necessary to the story, though to see what he sees will certainly add color to the tale. I chose each carefully to reflect the moment.
Where does Leonardo da Vinci fit into this tale? I’m a huge informational reader and one person I find particularly fascinating is Leonardo Da Vinci. Leonardo was denied traditional education because of his bastardy. The things that man went through to become the genius he was were impressive. Da Vinci immersed himself in the world to learn. What else could my characters do but the same? Da Vinci was an artist. Nicolas is an art historian. Da Vinci was a philosopher. Progressive Ellie was a student of philosophy. Da Vinci was a grand inventor, much of his knowledge based upon processes that came before him. Luca is a historian. Before I knew it, these three were having the most amazing discussions! Certainly love had to follow such compatibility.
But no one likes a novel without a story in it. The Victorian era had a seedy side few people realize. It wasn’t enough just to have three people fall in love in a very unorthodox manner, I added obstacles and roadblocks to make the journey rough. And for balance – I added a conscienceless adversary who’d stop at nothing to get what he wanted.
Loving Leonardo – The Quest comes out very soon. From there, these three might have more stories to tell.
I’m knee-deep in another two novels, and hopefully, I’ll get back to the blog to post something by the weekend. Until then, here are my books, my links, my next Hop, and something to make you smile.
As a bird lover, I think this is adorable.
The sanctuary needs donations. More info about Snowball and who looks after him here:
http://birdloversonly.org/
It’s the last day of the Swept Away Valentine Blog Hop!Follow this link for one more chance to meet over 140 authors and have a chance to win the prizes given away on each of their blogs. As always, be sure to leave your email address when you leave comments.
My prize is anauthorgraphed copy of my most recent release The Witchy Wolf and the Wendigo – a tale about an ancient Native American shaman who finds love in the modern world. Here’s the true root of the story at USA Today — The Witchy Wolf and the Wendigo
About Rose: I love words and choose them as carefully as an artist might choose a color. My active imagination compels me to write everything from children’s stories to historical fiction. As a persnickety leisure reader I especially enjoy novels that feel like they were written just for me. It’s hard to explain, but if you’ve ever read one of those, then you know what I mean. I tend to sneak symbolism and metaphor into my writing and always write in layers. You might say it’s a game I play with myself. It’s really a kick to have readers email to say they’ve found something or to ask if I meant what they think I meant when they read a portion and their brain goes, hey wait a minute… I want people to feel the story was written just for them and these hidden insights are my gift to my readers.
What does an immortal Native American shaman do when the grave he’s sworn to watch over for all eternity disappears under urban development? His purpose of guarding his wife’s burial mound is gone, Ashkewheteasu seeks to end his immortal existence. In his despair, Ash assumes the form of a wolf and steps in front of a moving car and into the life of Dr. Olivia “Livie” Rosalini. The veterinarian saves the animal’s life, and in the process saves the man within. Livie has no idea the wolfish dog she’s taken into her home and grows to love is a magical being seeking to win her heart as a man. While Ash is learning a new world filled with new love, friendship, and happiness, an old menace makes plans to steal it all away; just as he had 3000 years before.
Loving Leonardo the new 2012 CataNetwork Sensual Reads Reviewer’s Choice Winner in Historical Romance! An unusual bisexual, polyamorous, Victorian love story with a touch of reader-interactive art history Peek inside Loving Leonardo on Amazon
Bound by limits dictated by society, Art Historian Nicolas Halstead lived a guarded life until a tempest in the form of Elenora Schwaab blew into his world. At first Nicolas can’t decide if the audacious American is simply mad or plotting blackmail for not only does she declare knowledge of his homosexuality, she offers him a marriage proposal.
After Ellie tells him of a previously unknown work of Leonardo da Vinci, a book of erotic love poems and sketches dedicated to the artist’s long-time lover Salai, Nicolas joins her in a race to save the book from destruction. Along the way they encounter Historian Luca Franco and discover a comfortable compatibility that comes to redefine their long-held notions of love. The trio embarks on an adventure of sensual discovery, intrigue, and danger. Little do they know Leonardo da Vinci’s book is far more than meets the eye.
Dreamscape A haunting, a murder, a mystery, a reader’s puzzle, and a love story that transcends time. Peek inside Dreamscape on Amazon Unable to deny his own translucence, Dr. Jason Bowen determines his lack of physical substance could only mean one thing — he’s a ghost. Murdered more than a century before, Jason haunts his house and ponders the treachery that took his life. When Lanie O’Keefe arrives with plans to renovate her newly purchased Victorian mansion, Jason learns, ghost or not, he’s still very much a man. Jason soon discovers he can travel through Lanie’s dreams and finds himself reliving the days before his murder with Lanie by his side. It took one hundred and twenty years for love to find them, but there’s that insurmountable little matter of Jason being dead.
Hermes Online ACataNetwork Sensual Reads Reviewer’s Choice Winner 2011 – Contemporary Romance! A woman finds her lost confidence in a very unlikely place Peek inside Hermes Online on Amazon Imagine if you will a story begun in the halls of Mount Olympus long before this modern tale was conceived. It was a time when the god Hermes flew on his winged sandals and carried messages from the gods to the mortals below. And between that time and this, couriers became postmen and handwritten letters became bytes. It is said the gods still speak to those who listen… Left bruised and brokenhearted after a cruel breakup, Vivienne Bennet finds herself mired in a world of self-doubt. To her surprise, she receives an email that challenges her to rediscover the sensual woman she once was. Together Vivienne and the enigmatic man known only as S embark upon the world of anonymous Internet communication where suggestive emails lead to erotic chat, where cybering leads to Skype, and C2C sends both into the arms of a love they’d believed lost forever.
۞>>>>۞<<<<۞
~ And Coming Soon ~
Loving Leonardo – The Quest
and The Witchy Wolf and the Wendigo Book 2 – Eluwilussit
It’s day three of the Swept Away Valentine Blog Hop!Follow this link to over 140 authors and the prizes given away on each of their blogs. As always, be sure to leave your email address when you leave comments.
My prize is anauthorgraphed copy of my most recent release The Witchy Wolf and the Wendigo – a tale about an ancient Native American shaman who finds love in the modern world.
So what better to sweep you away than love at first sight?
Here’s a bit from Loving Leonardo the new 2012 CataNetwork Sensual Reads Reviewer’s Choice Winner in Historical Romance. It’s an unusual bisexual, polyamorous, Victorian love story with a touch of reader-interactive art history. After hopping with all of us, hop on over to Amazon and take a peek inside: Loving Leonardo
I sat Ellie and pulled a chair for Mrs. Ormont as she waited for her husband. A moment later, Colonel Ormont brought the historian to our table and made introductions. Luca Franco, late of Florence, was a Professor of Antiquities returning from London. I found the Italian quite the attractive fellow, impeccably dressed as he was. When in the presence of true beauty, my mind often imagines the person unclothed as the artists of the ages might have seen him. Sitting at my table was a statue carved in marble by Gian Lorenzo Bernini; an artist known for his remarkable ability to capture the essence of a narrative moment. And I found Luca Franco to be exactly that — a moment indelibly captured in time — a moment of meeting the mind could revisit in its entirety.
From every angle, he was beautifully made: black-haired, of medium build, and physically fit. He possessed a warm hue to his skin, his lineage no doubt stamped centuries past by the darker Moors or Turks. In startling contrast, and quite handsomely framed by black lashes, he had striking eyes the color one might see in a shadow falling across snow — not quite sky blue nor exactly steel gray, but a blending of the two in gradated rings.
I rose to shake his hand and felt the unmistakable current of compatibility. If this man weren’t forward in his mutual attraction, it was there nonetheless. I watched him bow over the ladies’ hands and found it curious that he lingered over Ellie’s fingers a tad longer. It made me smile. I had the distinct impression I was in the presence of a fellow dual-nature like myself.
It’s day two of the Swept Away Valentine Blog Hop!Follow this link to over 140 authors and the prizes given away on each of their blogs. As always, be sure to leave your email address when you leave comments.
My prize is anauthorgraphed copy of my most recent release The Witchy Wolf and the Wendigo – a tale about an ancient Native American shaman who finds love in the modern world.
So what better to sweep you away than a kiss?
Here’s my favorite PG kiss from my first novel Hermes Online. Vivienne describes a kiss for her penpal. After hopping with all of us, hop on over to Amazon and take a peek inside: Hermes Online
I closed the Word document and absently twirled my hair, lost in thought. There was so much of me in there, even the decorations in the house said much about me. The fact that Lily looks identical to me was rather Freudian too, come to think. I laughed out loud at the thought. It’s funny how our subconscious mind tells us what’s what sometimes. The subconscious mind intuits what the conscious mind misses at first glance. Yes, the story was a whim, and who would have thought six years later, it would help me find my way back to myself? I wished in that moment my pen pal stood right here so I could say thank you. I’d thank him for lighting the match that eventually relit the candle of my self-confidence. I’d kiss him for real.
I pressed my fingers to my lips, imagining this curious and compelling green-eyed, chestnut-haired, large-handed, well-endowed man kissing me. And unbelievably, my panties got soaking wet. I flexed my fingers and crafted a scene from the sizzling phantom fire playing over my lips.
Having experienced amazing kisses in my life added just enough realism to the blend of movie kisses. I told the screen, “So, you want a kiss, eh? Then what will you think of this?”
S,
There is so much more to kissing for the first time than meets the eye. The would-be lovers laugh and smile and delight in each other’s company. They talk, getting to know each other, trying to find the choicest morsels of their life and personality to share. They might hold hands for hours as they wander here and there. And when they sit side by side, perhaps on a bench at a museum, they’ll look in feigned interest at the passersby, glance again and again at the exhibit, but not really seeing it. First, one will turn inward, the movement slight, barely noticeable. And then with no clear knowledge of doing so, the one will magically mirror the other. Their knees may touch, and one set of clasped hands might rest innocently upon a knee. And then a noise, a temporary distraction, might take their attention for a second, and both heads will turn to the sound, inadvertently closer now than before. When one turns back, their faces will be mere inches apart. Their eyes, green and gray, will hold each other’s gazes, darting from one sparkling pupil to the other. They might unfocus to drink in the entire face for a second, perhaps lingering on the person’s smile before meeting the gaze once more, a gaze noticeably warmer than a moment ago.
One face may turn a little, and in mirrored image, the other follows, only slightly tipped in the opposite direction. And the eyes ask the silent question as two thoughts become superimposed — May I kiss you? Will you kiss me? The answer is subtle, missed by nearly everyone passing by, everyone save the smiling elder couple holding gnarled hands and assisted by their canes. Perhaps they, too, once shared a kiss sitting there, or plan to again later. But locked in their own world, they don’t notice the elder pair walk by.
They are aware now only of each other, aware of little things, the flush on her cheeks, the gleam in his eye, the color of her moist lips, the imperceptible flare of his nostrils as he subconsciously reminds his body to breathe. They touch now. The kiss is at first soft, the lips asking permission for the firmness they crave. Another kiss grants this and another and another as faces turn to fit around chins and cheeks and noses. And then loose and pliable, those lips part now to make way for tentative tongues. These too begin their searching, gently at first then becoming bolder as they instinctively react to the warmth of each other’s mouths and thrust as hands cup cheeks and arms wind around shoulders, drawing each other ever inward into the private space that shuts the waking world out and lets the dream begin. V
Little did I realize when I began this kissing scene that I would abandon the amalgamated movie kisses. I stopped and read those words, my words, my kiss. That kiss had been real, as had the love behind it. My eyes filled with tears, but I sent it on. Feeling alone, I rose from my chair and walked away.
Well that’s it on the blog hops for a while. I’ve been tallying the stats to see how blog hopping works for authors and will post that soon.
What a crazy, stress-filled, and oddly long week it’s been! Honestly, I can’t remember such a week that seemingly went on forever. I started out with an erroneously suspended blog and frantic hours trying to figure out why and get things up and running again before my USA Today debut. I had the blog hop coming mid-week too. This Blog Has Been Suspended just looks plain bad!
Thankfully the Happiness people (yes that is their title) at WordPress fixed their error and the blog got back up. Then blog hop fell into place. (Authors, I can’t say enough about doing all your blog posts at once as drafts and just posting as you go). The USA Today article was very well received. My fingers are crossed that this builds momentum. The nice thing is, it’s there forever. It’s even in the new Library at Alexandria! How cool is that?
I got my flu shot and felt like hell for two days, then my arthritis went nuts in my left hand and right ankle Thursday. (It’s an RA thing) Predictably, the household stuff I see to every day followed suit. Stress does that sometimes. *sigh* But today is a new day and the start of a new week. I beat the 1000+ email monster living in my email’s inbox back to a reasonable proportions this past weekend, so for the time being I have some semblance of control there. I’m glad I did! I found two guest appearances I’m scheduled for in the next few days. About that business of keeping track of things like guest posts and interviews. I found a terrific tool. It’s an organizer that you can load with your dates online, then send yourself an email copy or print it out to have on hand. So much more useful than the sticky notes I had plastered all over my desktop! It’s free but has upgrade options you pay for. For now the free version works fine for me.
After an icky few days, I’m feeling pretty good this morning so I expect a productive week. *knock on wood* My Witchy Wolf and the Wendigo comes out in paperback today. I think I’ll clean house to celebrate. lol Maybe I’ll dance while I work…no one’s here to see.
Speaking of…
Cute huh? I guarantee I’m not that flexible. You might have to watch this directly on youtube because of the song it’s playing. Still, the short jaunt is worth the smile.
Coming soon — some nice reviews and where I’ve been around town. If you’d like to learn more about my books, thoughts, future projects, and things I’ve found to navigate the author’s world, pour yourself a spot of tea and dig into my blog. You’re sure to find something useful or entertaining things.
Today’s the last day of the Something New, Something Naughty Blog Hop. There’s still time for one lucky winner to win the grand prize of a $60 gift certificate to EdenFantasys (adult store) and for two winners to win $25 gift certificates to their choice of the following book sites:Amazon, All Romance eBooks, Barnes & Noble, or Total-E-Bound
My post can still be found in the Life section of the USA Today in the Happy Ever After Blog. There I explain how I came to write The Witchy Wolf and the Wendigo — a story inspired by the urban legend of the Wisconsin wolf man. Here’s the link for a quick peek:
The theme for this Hop is naughty and/or new. With naughty in mind, I consulted Dictionary.com and Thesaurus.com to gain some insight on the word. In case you hadn’t heard this before, the thesaurus declares naughty a pretty impressive word. So am offering peeks into my stories through the naughty lens. Yesterday wasevil naughty (yes, the thesaurus says evil is a synonym of naughty), the day before unorthodox naughty, the we started with playful naughty. Today is errantnaughty. Errant, as in straying from proper standards.
Today I’d like to introduce an errant naughty snippet from Hermes Online - the CataRomance Sensual Reads Reviewer’s Choice Award Winner of 2011. Hermes Online was deliberately crafted to capture a publisher’s attention, and it did. This is the novel that opened the door to my becoming a multi-published author. Overcome by a broken heart and a confidence-shattering breakup, Vivienne tells the story in her perspective. But first, here’s the book trailer to explain the details –
S and Vivienne are enjoying their daily email exchanges. She’s lived the last several months in a drab haze of self-doubt, but S sets in motion an inner healing when he asks her to describe her self in full-colored, richly-worded, detail. At this point, the tenor of their conversation is beginning to change. There’s some wooing going on! In this scene, a good bit of conversation you’re not seeing here has taken place in S’s email.
…..And now I suspect there is far more to you than you realize, dearest V. Your sensual nature filled in where your paints left off, but is there more color to be had, I wonder?
Let’s take this further, shall we?For tomorrow… I enjoy kissing. Wield your pen. Describe a kiss from your luscious pink lips, and I shall do the same. Tell me, how do you sleep? Do your linens caress your bare skin? If not, allow yourself this treat tonight. For now, sweet dreams, lovely one.
S
I turned off the computer feeling that nature-driven lassitude that makes a woman drowsy after her climax. Smiling inside, I headed to bed. While I stood in my bathroom brushing my teeth, I eyed the hook that held my nightgown. I thought about his words. Never in my life did I recall deliberately sleeping nude. Yes, at various times after intimate exchanges in my past relationships, I fell asleep as naked as the body next to mine, but never did I set out to sleep without pajamas or nightgown at the end of the day. For some reason, the simple thought felt rather heady.
Being one of those people who actually takes the two minutes each morning to make my bed, for no other reason than not wanting to sleep in a jumble of sheets and blankets at the end of the day, I left the nightgown on the hook and turned down the sheets. My skin felt very hyper-aware as I stripped from the robe and snuggled in. The fabric softener scent lingered on my cotton sheets still, and the smooth flat surface of the fitted sheet felt cool against the remnant of my earlier sexual fever. I rolled over on my belly, one leg bent, one arm hugging the spare pillow that gave the illusion I didn’t sleep alone. I laid there assessing. My whole being felt lighter. For the first time in a year, I didn’t give Dan power over my dreams.
* * * *
I woke the following morning realizing I didn’t wake in the middle of the night as was my habit. In fact, I slept like the proverbial rock. It had been months since I slept through the three o’clock grief hour, that subconscious middle of the night wake-up call experienced by the grieving. As I took a languid stretch, I briefly contemplated revisiting last night’s date with the electric company. The corners of my mouth turned into a smile at the thought. Not now, I said to myself, tucking the option away and thinking I just might bring myself off later. The anticipation of another sensually charged email grabbed me. I found I relished the idea of writing…and reading…a kiss.
Later in the day I received a call from the county board president. It seemed my thoughts on creative reuse of the old Hornsby mansion had stirred more than one imagination on the board. In fact, so intrigued were they by my proposal that the house coming down was on hold for the time being. He wanted to let me know that my idea had become an agenda item on the special meeting he called this coming Thursday. Then to my ultimate surprise he paid me a compliment. “Honestly, Vivienne, I just have to tell you, I haven’t seen an idea come out of Planning and Development with this much potential in years. Your idea was inspired.”
I couldn’t believe my ears. For one, they’d suspended the tear-down, two, they’d called a special meeting, three, the board members I’d met with the other day had spoken favorably to their contemporaries, and four, I’d just gotten an extremely rare compliment from a guy who probably never even said “good boy” to the family dog. My idea was inspired!
Filled with possibility as I was, the ride home from work had my lips tingling as scenes from the world’s best movie kisses played over my head. To me the best were desperate I’ll-die-if-I-don’t-kiss-you kisses. My mind played with the concept for a mile or so.
Once in my life, and granted it had been nearly a half dozen years ago, I had been kissed just like that. The kind of kiss that throws your back to the wall and sends buttons flying from clothing in a fevered race to shed them just so your skin could make contact with his, to send that kiss to every nerve in your body.
Yes, I’d felt that once. My chest constricted with the memory of the architectural study tour one magical autumn in Greece and the amazing man assigned to my class. Wincing, I remembered the circumstance that ended the budding transcontinental relationship begun with such wonderful potential. My sensually handsome teacher had proposed to a woman he had been in a long relationship with just prior to leaving for Greece.
Neither of us planned to fall in love. It just happened when we found ourselves separated from the rest of the tour on the island of Delos. Waiting for the next ferry, we discovered a connection, one the entire pantheon of gods must have had a hand in, for it was incredibly beyond our control. But as blissful as that week had been, I knew from the onset there was no hope for anything else between us. His prior commitment was on the table. As surely as the seasons turn, my month-long class was over and with it came a return to cold reality. I felt his loss even now. As brief as our intense liaison had been, I had loved that man and he loved me and it was the kind of love you only got once in a lifetime. Broken-hearted, I left Greece without looking back and I didn’t leave my contact information for future study tours just in case I’d meet him again as a married man.
My tenuous emotional state couldn’t bear lingering here. In self-defense, I shook the bittersweet thought away and flipped on a talk radio station with its topic on how to get raccoons out from under your porch. Ignoring the rush hour traffic under my forced emotional silence, I got off at my exit and let my mind open to the conversation the experts were sharing with listeners. Twenty minutes went by as I learned about the nocturnal habits of raccoons. Who knew? The uninvited raccoons were exactly the distraction I hoped for as my sad thoughts of lost love sunk back into the dusty scrapbook of my memory. Three miles later, raccoons and opening deer season cleared my mind enough to think about the present. I turned the radio off and got to work crafting my perfect kiss, attempting to borrow from Hollywood rather than personal experience.
I settled on the fiddle-tempo kiss from Last of the Mohicans and combined it with the wave-crashing beach kiss between Burt Lancaster and Deborah Kerr in From Here to Eternity. That was nice, intensely hot. I then superimposed the kiss in the rain from The Notebook, and a bit of the library-shelf-climbing kiss from Atonement. “Wow,” I said, feeling electrified from the image I had woven.
Taking only enough time to do all the odds and ends one must do, such as making dinner, changing into more comfortable clothing, seeing to a load of hand-wash-only laundry and other less pressing bits on my weekly to-do list, I kept my computer at arm’s length until I had enough of a kiss in mind to write about. Two hours later, my computer fired up and so did my mind. I had mail.
۞>>>>۞<<<<۞
Fun Fact: When I came up with the title for this novel, the only thought I had in mind was the Greek myth of Hermes delivering messages from the gods. Flash forward to today and emails magically appear in our inbox. Add to that the fact my character Vivienne went to Greece as a student and I was quite pleased with my unusual title. Notice I said was. The title has been a source of a few chuckles along the way. First off, just about everywhere I’d posted a guest blog post about this book in 2011, the host tells me they’ve had a tremendous amount of hits on their blog for that day. That was nice to learn.
I’m also signed up for Google Alerts which tells me when my title is mentioned on the internet. In theory that should work, right? To date I’ve never received notice of this book being anywhere, but I do get a DAILY notice of who’s selling Hermes handbags, purses, and clutches online! lol I suspect the uncharacteristically high volume of hits on all those blogs might have been from people hunting down handbags. Every once in a while someone will ask where the Greek gods are in the story. FYI: The gods are there, but it’s not their tale.
I’ll contact the winner of The Witchy Wolf and the Wendigo sometime this week. Thank you for joining me in the Something New, Something Naughty Blog Hop. Follow The blog hop link above to see who’s won the prizes.
Subscribe to my blog for updates, author and publishing insights, reviews, laurels and skinned knees, and just about anything that captures my fancy. And more Hops! I’m participating in two Valentines Day hops. I should have two new releases out by then too!
It’s the second week of a new year and I’m still hopping! Thanks for stopping by my blog for day 1 of the Something New, Something Naughty Blog Hop. Authors Jennifer Wright and Lizabet Sarai have put this together and opened it to a handful of authors. Including me! Thanks Jen and Lizabet. One lucky winner will receive the grand prize of a $60 gift certificate to EdenFantasys (adult store) and two other winners will receive a $25 gift certificates to their choice of the following book sites:Amazon, All Romance eBooks, Barnes & Noble, or Total-E-Bound
>>>o<<<
To participate in this themed hop, I’m supposed to talk about new (as in new year) or naughty. Or even a combination of the two! New is self explanatory, but what is naughty exactly? Dictionary.com says several things about the word, everything from not eating your vegetables naughty, to mischief naughty, to vulgar naughty. The sister site Thesaurus.com offers a lot more from A to Z – well almost to Z. I found Aberrant to Wicked and a crazy amount of nuanced meanings in between. There are shades of naughty!
So, armed with a load of naughty variants, I’ve decided to offer several shades of naughty in my writings. I’m also offering insights into new things I’m up to in 2013.
As far as new goes, today I have a post in the Life section of the USA Today in the Happy Ever After Blog. There I explain how I came to write The Witchy Wolf and the Wendigo — a story inspired by the urban legend of the Wisconsin wolf man. Here’s the link for a quick peek:
And…
Here’s a “playful” naughty snippet from book 1 of The Witchy Wolf and the Wendigo. I won’t go into what happened prior to this scene, but Olivia still doesn’t know the wolfish dog she’s petting on her bed is a 3000 year old immortal native American shaman. She thinks he’s simply the dog she hit with her car — a dog whose severe injuries miraculously healed in a matter of days…
…they found her brother Jack already there with her car. To Olivia’s surprise her brother was trying to get the wolf-cross to chase a stick. The dog wasn’t having any of it.
“Hey look at you! Nice lump you’ve got there, Sis.” Jack smiled and hugged her.
Olivia gave the dog a cursory once-over. He looked fit as a fiddle. Turning to her brother she said, “Yeah, I do. Though it’s better than yesterday. Thanks for bringing my car home. Where’d you find my dog?”
“Your dog?”
“Mine, temporarily. We haven’t found his owner yet.”
“He was waiting at the door. Does he have a name?”
“I’m sure he does, but I don’t know it.”
Jack petted the wolf-cross’s big head. “I’ll take him, if no one comes for him. He’s a good dog. Aren’t you, big fella?”
Ash’s eyes never left Livie. She looked well, beautiful in fact, despite the bandage she wore. He wagged his tail and lolled his long pink tongue. He’d lived the equivalent of sixty lives of men and not once in all that time did he think of anyone but his wife. In the past few days he’d been thinking of this woman almost to the exclusion of all else. He found it curious.
She looked at him, not knowing what to think. The fact of the matter was he’d been seriously injured just four days before. The compound fracture alone should have taken weeks to heal, yet here he was with no sign whatsoever that the jagged leg bone had pushed through the skin and necessitated surgery. Somehow he managed to chew off his bandages and run away the first chance he got. Just thinking about it made her head throb. That’s all she remembered. The dog ran off and she drove after him. She must have driven off the road and hit her head. Maybe a deer ran in front of the car.
Her family saw Olivia fed, settled in bed, and set up with a stack of garden magazines.
Her father asked. “What else can I get for you, Pumpkin?”
She smiled at him. “Would you mind opening the window a crack? After that stuffy hospital room, I need some air.”
“Sure.” Appraising the old ill-fitting panes, he added, “I’ll come by next week and we’ll see about putting up some insulation. This old house is too drafty and winter is coming.” When her mother came in with a large glass of water and a new bottle of Extra Strength Tylenol, Olivia knew they must have sent Jack to the store. It was confirmed when her mother said, “Take these if your head starts hurting. Be sure you drink enough. Your brother picked up juice and popsicles, too.”
Jack said from the doorway, “Yeah, prune juice, and all green ones.”
Olivia laughed, then winced. When they were kids, the green popsicles were everybody’s least favorite choice. Needless to say, that was often all that was left.
Her brother patted the furry animal beside the bed. “Your dog never leaves your side, does he? I bought him a can of dog food but he wasn’t hungry. He wouldn’t even eat a piece of cheese.”
Olivia looked at the wolf-cross sitting there, watching like he fully understood their conversation. “He’s kind of picky. After I nap, I’ll make something for both of us.”
Not the sort to take “no” for an answer, all three tried valiantly once more to convince her she’d be better off at home. They even offered to take the dog, too. She thanked them, kissed them goodbye, and sent them on their way by assuring them all she was going to do was sleep. Alone now, Olivia patted the bed beside her. “Come up here, big guy.”
Ash leapt onto the bed and lay beside her. He stared at her expectantly.
The small movement bringing that painful ache to life in her temple, she pressed a knuckle into her throbbing eye socket. “God, my head. Listen, I have no idea how I got this lump on my head, but no more running away. Understand me?” His tail thumped the bed.
Olivia rubbed his ears and patted him and smiled when he rolled over on his back. Her fingers gently combed through the thick fur to the pink skin underneath. No sign of his recent stitches. She felt his foreleg from shoulder to toes. No swelling. She moved it carefully with one hand while pressing her palm flat where the bone had been broken. No grinding bone on bone. For all intents and purposes, this dog had never been in an accident nor had surgery. It defied logic. She absently rubbed his belly, her mind on every implausible detail since she’d run him over.
Ash closed his eyes to Livie’s caress. Her hand swept up and down from his neck to just below his navel and he found his soul awakening to it. His body stirred too.
This was a very happy male dog. It was impossible not to notice, with the telltale evidence making an appearance. Olivia leveled a look at him. “You will not lick yourself on my bed, buster.”
Ash rolled side to side, his tail wagging and teeth bared. Livie laughed, and it made him pause. He’d heard her laugh when she talked with Jenni, but he hadn’t heard her laugh like this, and never for him alone. The sound was merry and genuine and it made him happy. To his surprise, he wanted more. He craved her touch. He craved her. He nuzzled his nose under her hand. Touch me Livie.
“How did you heal so quickly? This just doesn’t make sense.”
Ash knew she spoke more to herself than to him but listening to her eased him. Heal? Yes, that’s what’s was happening. He felt the flutter in his chest and knew it for what it was. His heart was healing. He’d loved his wife with his heart’s every beat. He’d loved their precious child with his every breath. He always would. But because of this gentle, caring woman, he felt his shriveled heart expand for the first time since that monster stole his family from him.
After a while her hand stopped its gentle caress and Ash knew she had fallen asleep. Listening to Livie’s regular breathing, he crawled up beside her and laid his heavy head across her chest. He closed his eyes and let her heartbeat lull him.
Was it so? Did he have room to love another? He needed to seek the Manitou. He must know if this were meant to be. But more than that, he needed to visit Aiyanna in his dreams again. A short time later he dreamed his life, dreamed of falling in love, dreamed of every memory of his wife he owned. Then of his own doing, he took his dreams to the very last day they shared…
fun huh?
Tomorrow I’ll share a different shade of naughty from another book.
I harbor a lifelong love of learning, but I didn’t enjoy school. In fact, I could count on three fingers those times I was actually inspired by a teacher. I say that because I can only remember three.
The twinkle of a notion that I could write stories appeared long ago, and it all started in school with a J.R.R. Tolkien book in my high school English class. We were to read The Hobbit and then write a short story in Tolkien’s style. It was the very first time a class assignment was more than a regurgitation of rote facts and dates. It was also the first time I put imagination to pen. I wrote about an emerald-scaled dragon waiting for her egg to hatch. I’d been inspired so I really got into it. It’s amazing what a little inspiration can do for creativity.
The next day, the teacher held me back after class to praise my story one on one. She asked if she could keep it or have a copy. Of course I said yes to her keeping it. In the days before Xerox, I wasn’t about to write it all out again! She left me with this thought. “You’re good enough to be published one day.” I shelved that idea for fourteen years before I took her compliment to heart. And with disappointment, I tabled it again as an impossible undertaking when manuscripts sent didn’t get a nibble. That was nineteen years ago. All told this trip has taken 38 years. I’m glad I tried again and was successful, but wish I’d started sooner. It’s not for the reason you might think.
I’ve long determined there aren’t enough hours in the day to accomplish the often overwhelming pile of things authors have to do to establish a solid footing in the publishing world. Years ago, the only thing an author needed to do was write a book and send the manuscript to a publisher. If they accepted it, the publisher did all the work and that included promoting.
It’s not enough now to simply write the book. You have to put on hats! Of course you must wear the writer’s hat, but there’s also the publicist’s trunk full of hats to wear — the blogger hat, social media hat, and the webmaster hat. Then we have the personal assistant’s hat and all the smaller hats that go with it. If you self-publish, there’s far more than one publisher’s hat to wear! There are days when i feel buried under hats. lol
The publishing world is the vertical slope. To make a success in his business is metaphorically like climbing K2. It’s not impossible, but boy it’s not easy with that column of hats balanced on your head!
But there’s a problem with that, namely, the internet is HUGE. How can you possibly find all the treasures out there waiting to explore? There’s a terrific tool to surf the web with, and it’ll help you dig deeper. I’ll warn you if you have a penchant for surfing now, you’ll need to go into it with your eyes wide open. It’s called StumbleUpon, and it hooked me within three stumbles. 
