Excerpt Monday The Wicked on the Run (Ch 1)

Once a month, a bunch of authors get together and post excerpts from published books, contracted work or works in progress, and link to each other. You don’t have to be published to participate–just an writer with an excerpt you’d like to share. For more info on how to participate, head over to the Excerpt Monday site! or click on the banner above.



Here is an early draft from my paranormal work-in-progress, The Wicked on the Run.

“What’s your problem, Keeley?” Honora toyed with her fingernails. She painted them red and then stared at each finger until it turned gold again. She was bored.

Keeley turned to look at Styx. The punk pixie was intently playing a video game. Bodies were flying and buildings blew up as her fingers flew over the controller. Keeley shook her head. At least Styx wasn’t bored. When Styx got bored, real things blew up.

“No problem, Hon.”

Her friend shook her golden curls. “Somethin’s up with you, babe. You’re never this moody. Well, not most of the time. Did somebody young die today?”

Yeah. Of course Honora wouldn’t ask her if somebody died today. It was always who died today.

“Not exactly.”

“So what’s up?” Honora put her hand over Keeley’s. It was a warm, sunlit caress, heating her icy fingers.

“Nothing. I just need a friggin’ vacation.”

Yeah, a vacation from her life. From Death. Dying. Remorse. More death. Why couldn’t she have been a nymph or a brownie or something? This banshee gig bit a like big shark with its teeth in her ass.

“Do banshees get vacations?” Styx asked, barely looking up from the 45 inch flat screen TV.

“I sure as hell have never heard of it.” Keeley’s job was to guard over a particular unit of the O’Neill clan. But, most of the time, guarding consisted of preventing death, warning about death, or helping the dead cross over. Only once in a while did she get to have any fun with it. Like last week, when she snapped a guy’s wrist who had gotten his knife a little too close to Katie Kilpatrick O’Neill’s heart.

Keeley generally didn’t kill, but she could maim. A smile crossed her face. But, even her revenge against stupid, strung-out theives and domestic violence abusers wasn’t fun anymore.

“Talk to Council.” This from Honora, the Golden One.

“No,” Keeley replied.

Unlike her best friend, Keeley didn’t have shimmery skin made of honey dipped in gold, didn’t have matching gold eyes that could turn a serial killer into a cherub, and she couldn’t even enthrall a gnome. Council listened to her about as much as Republicans listened to Democrats. Or, about as much as soldiers listened to ants.

“If you don’t ask, you don’t get, sugar,” Honora said.

She grimaced. “If I ask, I’d get a longer sentence.”

Styx yelled. “Alright! Wicked!!” She jumped up with her arms in the air. Then, as if she’d been talking to them all along, she said, “I thought yours was a life sentence.”

“Yeah, one thousand years and counting…”

She was going insane. Day by day.

“Geez, Keel.” Styx stood over the bed. At five feet and three inches, this was the only possible way she could tower over her. “You need to get laid.”

“What?”

“When was the last time you got a little some some?” Honora looked up from painting her toe nails. She looked closely at Keeley. “Wait. Don’t answer that.”

Styx looked over at Honora. “No.” She looked back at Keeley. “Seriously. You can’t have only been with Aramar.” Before Keeley could even try to lie, Styx continued. “Oh, my god. The last lay you had was Mr. Unseelie-Stick-Up-His-Ass?”

Keeley didn’t reply.

“Cocksucker.”

“Styx, you have the foulest mouth I’ve heard outside of Hades,” Honora reproached. “Can you even try to speak like a lady?”

“Can you like…try like…to not talk like you’re a valley girl?”

Honora threw a pillow at her. It turned gold and heavy in her hand. Styx held up her palm and flames shot from it.

“Stop!” Keeley called out. “Can you two cool it? I’d like to keep my house in one piece. The last time you two got going, I had to spend $5,000 on new furniture!”

“Well, little miss pants on fire has a point.” Honora stood up. “You’ve got to get a little release honey. All that death and disaster has got to take a toll.”

Great. Just great. The last thing she needed was for them to start fishing for blind dates. The last time Styx had tried to fix her up, she’d walked into the bar to find a tatted, snake-haired gorgon. No thanks.

“I just need a little excitement. You know, a challenge. Lately, the most danger my O’Neills get into is drunken bar fights. Other than that one stupid kid with the knife, I haven’t had any action in months.”

Thunder sounded.

They looked around. Lightening flashed in the center of the room. Two missives flew out of the brilliant white light. They were sealed with gold ribbon and red wax.

As if this night couldn’t get any friggin’ better. A summons.

Looks like she'd have to confront Council tonight, after all.

“Well, you two kiddies have fun!” Styx turned away. And plopped down on the floor in her little black mini skirt.

Honora smiled. “Well, Keeley. You said you wanted a challenge.”

Links to other Excerpt Monday writers
Note: I have not personally screened these excerpts. Please heed the ratings and be aware that the links may contain material that is not typical of my site.

EM - A Hint of Scandal

It is that time again. Excerpt Monday. This is when a group of authors get together once a month and post something from a work in progress or a soon-to-be released book. You will find all kinds of goodies here. Historical, Paranormal, YA...and a few naughty bits as well. Scroll down to the bottom of the blog on MONDAY and you will see a set of links to other participants.

Here is an excerpt from A Hint of Scandal, a novella I wrote 11 years ago and have considered revising. I made minor edits to the intro a year ago. It's an erotic romance.

“We have got to stop meeting like this,” she said.

“Would you prefer a bed?” he teased. “I think that can certainly be arranged.”

“No.” she told him as she brushed her hands over the front of her dress. “I think we have been severely lucky that no one has ever happened upon us before now. Perhaps, we should reconsider this arrangement.”

“You want to end this?” He tilted his head and stared at her.

What was she doing? She had wanted this. Jeffrey was charming, handsome. Willing.

If only she was willing.

“I feel I must.”

“You all but opened your legs for me, Miranda. Thrice. What makes you so hesitant now? Are you a timid virgin? Afraid to finally couple with a man?”

Yes, that was it. Little did he know he would not have been her first. But, a man’s pride was a tender thing. She wouldn’t reveal it to him.

“Do you have another lover?”

“No.” Her heart skipped a beat.

“Well, I should think not. You could not do any better than me, anyway.” He smiled to himself as he shook out his jacket.

“Do not look so relieved you bastard.”

“My blood line runs cleaner than yours and you know it.”

“You arrogant, pompous rake!”

Shaking his head, he looked down at her. Then he patted her behind. “Run along now, Miss Howard. We would not want Mummy and Daddy finding out what a naughty girl you have been.”

Miranda glared at him and stormed off. What had she been thinking when she let Jeffrey kiss her? The man had the manners of a dog, for all his good breeding.

She was so angry and distracted that she didn’t see where she was walking. She rounded a hedge and ran straight into a solid body.

“Oh,” she exclaimed. “I am dreadfully sorry.” She looked up into the face of Lord Sheffield.
He was taller than Jeffrey and she had to angle her head up to look into his eyes. For a moment, she was tempted to run her fingers through his blond locks.

“Mi-Miss Howard.” He bowed slightly. “It was I who was not paying careful attention as to where I was going. Please forgive me if I have caused you any injury.”

They were still standing close together. If only she dared to reach out and touch him. Had she not been so startled a moment ago, she might have enjoyed bumping into the earl.

Under his gaze, her breast swelled and she could feel her nipples straining against the fabric. Hopefully her gown was still perfectly in place. The bodice was so low that she feared a nipple could poke out above the fabric.

For a moment, neither spoke. What was wrong with her? It was not as if she’d never spoken to Sheffield before. How many times had she teased and berated him as a child? But, things were different now. He was different.

And, lord help her, just being in close proximity to him sent a jolt of lightening through her thighs. This was not the man of her childhood. It was the man of her fantasies.

Ever since Sheffield had returned a month ago, things had not been the same. She could barely breathe when they were talking, which was not often enough as he seemed to find any excuse not to be alone in conversation with her.

“No, my lord. I am well. Forgive me for running into you.”

“There is nothing to forgive.”

His eyes bored into hers. That blue-green color appeared darker under the moonlight. Miranda felt paralyzed to the spot.

“Goodnight, Miss Howard,” he said kissing her hand. It was bare. Shivering, she realized that she must have left her glove in the grass. Damnation. She’d have to go back and retrieve it before her mother saw her without it.

“Goodnight, Lord Sheffield.”

Miranda turned and ran toward toward the spot where she had abandoned Jeffrey.

Unfortunately, she didn’t see the stone near her foot until it was too late. Her foot caught and she fell flat on her face.

To her utter mortification, Lord Sheffield called out to her. Unable to reveal her reddened face, she waited until he caught up with her. With gentle care, he lifted her up and helped her brush off the leaves and dirt that now adorned her dress.

Strong arms. Though Sheffield was somewhat slender, his arms were firm and muscled. If only she could run her hands over them and squeeze. It had been many years since she’d been held by him. And, back then, she was too daft to attach any importance to it.

Sighing, she looked into his face. The hard planes softened a bit as his eyes roamed over her, making sure she was well.

“Miss Howard. Lord Sheffield.”

She looked up to see Lady Stanley, their hostess. Warmth crept up Miranda’s cheeks. Almost choking on her words, she responded, “Lady Stanley.”

Isabella, Lady Stanley, nodded, though Miranda saw her eyes narrow. “Taking a walk in the gardens?”

Lord Sheffield murmered something and Miranda tried to cover up for them. “I wanted to get some fresh air. ‘Tis so stuffy inside.”

Their hostess nodded, though it was obvious that she didn’t believe a word of it. Miranda looked longingly at the house, praying for the moment when she could get back inside.

“Why, Miss Howard, are we starting a new fashion trend? It is really quite becoming.” Jeffrey. He appeared suddenly, carrying a stained white glove. She was about to grab it from him when she realized another couple was headed toward them.

All eyes were on her. She wondered why until she realized they were all looking at her chest. Miranda lowered her eyes and realized that her gown was not only ruined with grass stains and tiny tears, but two undeniably male hand prints were on the front of her gown. If Miranda had the stomach for it, she would have swooned. As it was, a heat was spreading over her cheeks and she knew that she resembled a tomato.

Everyone’s eyes continued to watch her, but she could not come up with a quick response.

Sheffield came to her rescue, putting his jacket over her shoulders and saying, “Miranda took a fall just now and I found her. Though she seems not to be injured, I am taking her to her father so that she can get home and lie down.”

Miranda was greatful when he put his arm around her and escorted her back into the house.

*****
The next day, Miranda awoke with a headache. She’d had more than one glass of brandy before making it into bed. A pounding throbbed in her hears.

“Miranda! Miranda!”

Oh, could she just lower her voice. Why did she have to yell like a banshee?

“Yes, Mother. What is it?”

“I have been knocking for ten minutes,” her mother said, entering the room. “As I told you last night, we must have a talk.”

She’d been in no mood to talk to her parents last night and she certainly wasn’t in the mood now. God, she needed coffee. Though her mother kept very little in the house, Miranda knew there was a small stash for guests. Maybe she could convince the housekeeper or the butler to let her have it.

“I need to get to the privy.”

“Oh, no you do not. Young lady, you will not avoid me.”

Miranda looked into her mothers eyes. The same shade of green as her own. She sighed.

Taking hold of her arms, Lady Wentworth continued, “Last night, you came in from the garden with stains on your clothes, a dazed expression, and Lord Sheffield’s jacket about your shoulders. Honestly, darling, have you any sense? The whole town is talking and you are in bed sleeping away. Lord Sheffield’s father is due within the hour and your father is raving. Well,” she said, taking a breath, “just what do you have to say for yourself?”

Dumbfounded, Miranda could only stare as her mother went about the room, opening curtains and setting out clothes for her to wear. She selected a coral colored gown and set it on the bed.
No words came out of her mouth. What could she say? Last night had been a disaster.

“You had better get up and wash yourself. Agnes will be in to help you dress. Hurry up, as we will not want to keep the Duke waiting.”

An instant later, Agnes came in. She pulled back the covers and started removing Miranda’s gown. Obediently, Miranda lifted her arms.

Biting her lip, she asked. “How bad is it? Mother looks fit to skin a bear. Is father raving as well?”
Agnes shook her head. “Real quiet like. Dinno if he’s that mad or in shock.”

Great. Miranda counted on her father’s support. Not that she deserved his help after the drama she’d caused last night.

Her voice dropped to a whisper as she took the wet towel that Agnes gave her. Wiping her face and underarms, she continued, “Did they say anything about the Duke and Duchess?”

“Not that I heard, Miss.”

Miranda finished washing up and let Agnes dress her. When Agnes smiled, she looked in the mirror. The coral was the perfect color on her. It matched her deep auburn hair.

“Did they say if Alistair is coming?”

Agnes didn’t respond as she dressed Miranda’s hair.

“Is Sheffield coming?” she repeated.

“I think so.”

Miranda bit her lip as her heart thumped in her chest. He was coming. It had been a while since Sheffield had been in their home. Too long. Why did it always have to been in awful circumstances?

*****

He was angry. She could see it in his eyes. His cheeks were flushed and his eyes bored into hers.
“Well?” he demanded, once she’d been seated.

“Well, what, Father?”

“In a quarter of an hour, His Grace will be here to discuss the incident between you and his son. I think, perhaps, that it would be better if I heard all of the details first hand instead of through town gossip!”

“There is nothing to be said.” She tried to keep her voice level.

“Do not play the ninny with me, young lady, though now I doubt whether to address you as such.”

She turned away from him as she spoke. “I went into the garden. When I came back, I tripped and fell. Lord Sheffield aided me, then Lady Stanley arrived. That is all I have to tell.”

“And your dress?” He poured a glass of liquor. She was in real trouble.

“As I said, I tripped and fell. Then, Lord Sheffield helped me up.”

“Then, it was he who left the marks on your dress?”

Miranda had hoped that he didn’t know about that. “An accident.”

“An accident. Do you believe me foolish enough to accept that answer?”

“You will have to, Father, for it is the only one I have to give.”

*******************************

The Full List of Excerpt Monday Participants:

(Links will be active on Monday. The list is organized by rating, so the saucy stuff is at the bottom, and the family friendly excerpts are at the top.)

Bria Quinlan, Rom Com (PG)

Kinsey W. Holley, Paranormal (PG)
Caitlynn Lowe, Epic Fantasy (PG)
Dara Soren, Paranormal (PG)
Mel Berthier, Urban Fantasy (PG 13)

Babette James, Fantasy Romance (PG13)
Christina DeLorenzo, YA (PG 13)
Nika Dixon, Romantic Suspense (PG 13)
Bryn Donovan, Paranormal Romance (PG13)
Kaige, Historic Romance (PG-13)
Julia Knight, Fantasy Romance (PG 13)
Adelle Laudan, Contemporary Romance (PG 13)
Jeannie Lin, Historical Romance (PG13)
RF Long, Paranormal (PG13)
Rebecca Savage, romantic suspense (PG 13)
Crista McHugh, Paranormal Romance (PG 13)
Leigh Royals, Historical Romance (PG 13)

Jax Cassidy, Contemporary Romance (R)
Maya Doyle, Paranormal Romance (R)
Cate Hart, Paranormal (R)
Ali Katz, Historical Erotic Romance (R)
Inez Kelley, Romantic Comedy (R)
Aislinn Kerry, Paranormal Romance (R)
Elise Logan, Fantasy Romance (R)
Cherrie Lynn, Paranormal Romance (R)
Alina Morgan, Urban Fantasy (R)
Vivienne Westlake, Erotic Historical (R)

Stephanie Adkins, Erotic Romance (NC 17)
Evie Byrne, Medieval Paranormal Romance (NC 17)
Kim Knox, Erotic SF Romance (NC17)
Lauren Murphy, Erotic Romance (NC 17)
Kirsten Saell, Erotic Romance (NC 17)

Excerpt Monday - Secrets Uncovered

It's Excerpt Monday again! My friends and I are posting excerpts from our books. (At the bottom of the post, you will find links to some great free reads).

Today, we're going to go back in time. To a time of corsets, proper lords and ladies, subtle innuendos, manor homes, and a good Queen to rule them all. My novella, Secrets Uncovered, which may be turned into a novel, is set in the late Victorian period. Circa 1890.

To sum it up: American widow, Elena Montgomery, has discovered that her mother lied to her about her parentage. She accompanies her friend to England to search for a man who might be her biological father. But, along the way, she gets entangled with a gorgeous earl who has a very dirty reputation. Jamie Davenport, Earl of St. James, has every intention of making her his mistress, no matter what the cost. But, will he still be willing to pay the price once he discovers the secrets she's hiding?

The scene below is part of the first chapter. Elena and her friend have arrived at the country estate of Sir Charleston, the man she thinks may be her father, for a two-week party. While Elena and Melissa plot to find out Charleston's connection with her mother, Jamie corners Elena...

“You summoned me, Mrs. Montgomery?” St. James’s voice was thick and low, yet smooth. Certainly not the kind of voice that a man used in a crowded ballroom. It was the voice a man used from within the covers of a canopied bed.

He took her gloved hand and kissed it. Once those brilliant sapphire eyes looked into hers, she lost every ounce of her will. And this wasn’t the first time.

“No.” Breathe, Elena. Breathe. He cannot see you nervous.

That lazy smile was the downfall of so many women. Apparently, Elena was the next one on St. James’ list.

“Your eyes bid me to come.”

“They did no such thing.”

“Then why were you staring?” he challenged.

“As if you are not always staring,” she muttered. She couldn’t remember a time since they’d been introduced when St. James wasn’t attempting to seduce her with those eyes.

“Is it not natural to let your gaze linger on something exquisite?”

Despite herself, Elena felt heat creep up her cheeks. They must be red as beets.

She gave him a suspicious glance. “Am I the first one to hear that phrase or did you practice it on a few other widows before me?”

He smiled. “I reserve my best compliments for women who rise above the crowd.”

That devil. He felt he could charm any woman out of her pantaloons. He was mistaken.

“Such as those young ladies who are longing to drag you back into conversation?” Elena nodded in the direction of the three women he had just abandoned.

“They are merely to pass the time.”

“And me?”

He leaned in closer. “You are one to savor.” He spoke the word slowly as if he tasted on his tongue.

They could have been alone for all the intensity with which he gazed upon her. An intensity which made her stomach flutter. The air between them crackled with heat. She fell for his charm. Again.

Why couldn’t they have met under different circumstances? Though truth be told, she wasn’t sure if an affair with Lord St. James would be good under any circumstances.

“He has a reply to everything,” Elena said, addressing Melissa.

The girl smiled. “That he does.”

“Would you rather I stuttered and stammered in the face of your delectable beauty?”

She could feel the hammering of her heart beneath the corset. The temptation to lean in toward him burned within her.

Yet she could not give in so easily. “Perhaps I would rather you said something sincere.”

“Ah.” He paused for a moment. Thinking up a good line, no doubt. “Would it please you if I were to tell you that I have thought of little but you since I heard you had accepted the invitation to my aunt’s party?”

“Perhaps.”

He smiled. “That is all I have to offer in the way of sincerity.”

Elena shook her head and laughed. “You will have to practice, my lord. That was hardly a confession of undying devotion.”

A dark look passed over his face. “I do not make those, madam.”

He was serious. The man never confessed love. She should know better. For all intents and purposes, Jamie Davenport bedded one woman after another. If gossip could be believed, he amused himself with a woman for three to six months and then moved on. No declarations. No marriage proposals. Just heated nights under the bedcovers.

“Just as well, my lord. I would never expect such from you.”

She turned from him to look at Melissa. “I think you have an admirer of your own.”

Across the room, St. James’ cousin, Lord Langdon Sterling, had his eyes on Melissa. Elena looked at him and wondered again how he and the rake could be so different. They were first cousins, but other than their curly hair, tall, lean physiques, and superb tailoring, they were totally unalike.

St. James exuded mystery and midnight seductions with his intoxicating stares, sultry voice, and dark looks. Langdon, however, was all charm and affability. His blond curls, wide, sincere smile, and impeccable manners made a woman think of an angel.

What did it say of her that the angel did not tempt her in the slightest? It was the devil she craved. It was the Sin-James who made her awaken breathless and heated in the dead of the night.

**************

To view more awesome excerpts, go to:

http://excerptmonday.wordpress.com

Melissa Aires, Paranormal Erotic Romance (PG)

Gina Ardito, Historical Paranormal (PG)

Jax Cassidy, Erotic Contemporary (R)

Ella Drake, Erotic Paranormal Romance (NC-17)

Kaige, Historical Romance (PG-13)

Jeannie Lin, Historical (PG)

Crista McHugh, Historical Paranormal Romance (PG-13)

Kirsten Saell, Erotic Romance/Fantasy (NC-17)

Kate Willoughby, Fantasy/Parnormal Erotic Romance (NC-17)

To Be Read Pile

Okay, so I went on an romance ebook buying spree a couple of weeks ago. Mainly after the excerpt Monday earlier this month. So, I ordered several Diva ebooks from Samhain.

The Scroll Thief from R.F. Long
Total Eclipse of the Heart by Crystal Jordan
Called by Blood and Dante's Inferno by Evie Byrne and Behind the Mask and Prince of Fire by Tawny Taylor

Thanks to my recent flu, I was able to read The Scroll Thief and half of Called by Blood. I already finished Total Eclipse of the Heart. But, I also have a few other print books in my To Be Read (TBR) pile:

A 21st Century Courtesan by Eden Bradley
O'Brien's Desk by Ona Russell, which I picked up at my LARA chapter meeting
The Reward by Beth Williamson (I'm very excited because I have a few of her books in ebook format, but I just ordered the first three books in print).
*While we're on the subject of Beth Williamson, if you enjoy westerns, pick up The Bounty. My favorite western romance right now, though I'll always love Only His by Elizabeth Lowell (the first romance novel I ever read).*

Did I also mention the HUGE pile of romance books that Eden Bradley gave me a few months ago just for fun. How am I going to get through all of these? There must be a good 15 books in the bag.

I love reading, don't get me wrong. But, I now see what editors and agents must feel when they open their mail and see 20 books to be read only to read 5 of these and then see 30 more books to be read.

How long is your TBR pile?

Excerpt for Monday-- A Halloween Novella

Well, since tomorrow is Excerpt Monday and many of the Divas will be posting and exchanging links for story excerpts, here is mine. (For links to other participating Divas, scroll to the bottom of this page). I decided not to post any of my current WIPs, but to go back to an older urban fantasy novella...

This is one version of an opening to a Halloween story I started a couple of years ago. I couldn't decide exactly what I wanted to do with it so I never wrote the whole story, but I do like the heroine, Lisa. She's a bit of a clothes snob, but very funny.

****Excerpt****

This was getting ridiculous. It was past the point of fun ages ago. Whoever thought battling demons and vampires was cool ought to have their head shrunk.

Being covered in slimy, green goo that once was the blood of a Dendra demon was the last straw. Four hundred nineteen kills. That was how many demons Lisa had slain or banished since discovering her special calling as a White Witch of Gendron.

Lisa could care less about adding any more to her list of banished and decimated creatures. She wanted out. Or at least a long vacation. Starting tonight.

She walked away from the bloody body with the silver knife hanging from it’s chest. Lisa didn’t even pause to pick up the weapon. Why bother? This was it. The last time.

Halloween was only tomorrow night. Lisa thought it was appropriate to get away and start fresh at the Celtic New Year.

She’d devoted three years to this and it was time to do something else. Bethany and Max could have it: the long nights patrolling, the bruises and scratches, the heavy bag full of stakes and potions and silver daggers. Lisa had other things to do. Like homework.

After taking up demon hunting as a career, her grades sunk. While she’d managed to get into the MFA Creative Writing program at the university, she was behind in three classes.

What had happened to her life? At one time, she was a good writer with a witty sense of humor. She’d won awards in undergrad and had her pick of schools after college. It seemed like ages since she’d gotten an “A” on one of her stories.

Since Gram died, Bethany and Max expected Lisa to continue in Gram’s work. No one expected prim and proper Beth, Lisa’s sister, to carry daggers and mirrors out in the middle of the night looking for monsters with fangs. But crazy Lisa was perfect for it.

No one cared that Lisa had once had a life. Whatever she’d been up to was simply inconsequential compared to the work of the Gendron witches. Lisa wished she could slap the ancestor who decided to take up demon thrashing and pass the calling to her future relatives.

Lisa frowned as she made it to her doorstep. She closed the door without even turning the lights on. In the dark, she sprinted across the living room to the stairs. All she could think about was getting into the shower. Tomorrow, she’d burn the clothes or take them out to a dumpster far, far away.

As Lisa stepped out of the shower, wrapping a towel around her body and one around her wet, blond hair. She noticed the bags underneath her blue eyes as she spread on the moisturizer. Maybe now she could finally make it to bed before three a.m.

She was distracted by the sound at the door. Knock. Knock. Knock.

“I’m in the shower,” Lisa called.

Her sister’s voice carried through the door. “No, you’re not. There’s no water running.”

Lisa turned the faucet on and turned back toward the mirror. She didn’t care if there was a dire emergency and the whole of Los Angeles was burning down. Lisa was off duty.

“Leese,” Bethany called through the door.

Frowning, Lisa yanked open the door.

Her sister was wearing one of her icky navy polyester suits that screamed cheap department store. And, those shoes, those “I’ll-never-meet-a-man-as-long-as-I-live” navy old lady pumps which should have been burned in 1989. Bethany lived in those clothes. Her closet was full of black, brown, and navy suits and matching shoes.

“We are being called to the witches’ council tomorrow. There will be a swearing in of the new head of the High Council.”

“Well, you can RSVP without me. I’m not going.” Lisa brusquely dried her hair with the towel.

“What do you mean you are not going? Are you patrolling?”

“No.”

“Then what else could be so important?”

“My life.” Lisa gently pushed her sister out of the bathroom and took hold of the door. “I am not patrolling or going to the witches council ceremony. I am taking a vacation.” She closed the door. “An extended vacation, with any luck.”

****End of Excerpt****

Just for fun, here's the very first draft opening paragraph. Similar to the above, but it amuses me. I love the way Lisa sizes everyone up by their clothes or lack thereof:

“Oh, Pu-leeze,” Lisa groaned. “Beth, you’re not serious. Can’t this wait until tom—um, until next year?”

Bethany crossed her arms as Lisa rolled her eyes. Her sister, Bethany, had screwed her bulb on too tightly. Again. And, she seriously needed highlights and a good romp in the hay. Bethany’s light brown hair was mousy rather than sandy and she insisted on wearing those ugly I’ll-never-meet-a-man-so-long-as-I-live navy old lady shoes. When was the last time she went on a date? 1995? Just because Beth was a work-a-holic spinster did not mean that Lisa had to be the same.

***********

A few of my friends also have excerpts up on their sites starting tomorrow, Monday, April 13, so check these out for some free reads. Many of these are erotic romance, so be advised before clicking!:

http://edenbradley.blogspot.com/ (My good friend Eden Bradley has a new book out. Read the excerpt for A 21st Century Courtesan. Hot stuff!)

http://clwhite.wordpress.com/2009/04/13/excerpt-monday/

http://maureenmccarrie.blogspot.com

http://jeannielin.com/blog/2009/04/13/exce...ay-his-or-hers/ (My friend Jeannie is a Golden Heart finalist this year! Yay!!!)

Kinsey W. Holley Excerpt Monday

Becca Sheridan-Furrow

Kirsten Saell, The Chancellor's Bride

http://melsmag.wordpress.com/

Scenting Cinnamon by Ella Drake

Evie Byrne: Bound by Blood, Book 2 of the Faustin Bros. Trilogy

Emily Ryan-Davis: Changing Thumbelina, the Erotická Revue excerpt

http://kate-willoughby.blogspot.com/2009/04/kiss-guy.html

http://ginaardito.blogspot.com/2009/04/its...rpt-monday.html

http://www.rflong.com/?p=354

http://briaspage.wordpress.com/2009/04/13/em-2/

http://stephanieadkins.wordpress.com/blog/

Inheritance

http://roselondon.wordpress.com/

http://writingspectacle.blogspot.com/2009/...rpt-monday.html

here is the excerpt for Babette James

A Night of Debauchery (A Diva Get Together)

So, Thursday night, Eden Bradley's best friend, Lilli Fiesty, came to town for a visit. A few of us met at a restaurant in Sherman Oaks. Now, keep in mind that you have 6 erotica authors all together at once and at least two of them are crazy and up for anything. The rest of us will go along with just about anything.

I wish I could thoroughly explain the hilarity of the evening. Here are the highlights: wine and Indian food; a camera who had a little too much vodka; ice in the restaurant toilet; ruined underwear--going commando; toying with a player via text message; the robot stripper dance; two lap dances (one professional, one courtesy of Ms. Fiesty); a strip club with nude dancers; a bar with 4 fascinated table neighbors (three men and one woman) who were enamored with Eden Bradley and the fact that there are six erotica writers at the table next to them; a man under the delusion that Eden was his wife and they've got two kids at home; Fiesty and Lisa reenacting the lipstick scene from Breakfast Club, and plans for a trip to Vegas where I'll get my first lap dance at a male revue... Actually, that would be my first lap dance ever. Sadly, I was not the recipient of Fiesty's lap dance (though she did bury her head in my boob for a picture).

LOL!

I didn't have a camera, so I can only rely on the pics that KB sent me. There are more pics, but I have not received them yet. Unfortunately, the funny picture we took with our table neighbors came out really blurry or I would post it here.

Here's a teaser...






This is what happens when a group of Romance Divas get together!

Reading Frenzy

Lately, I've been on a book-buying binge. Not sure if it's stress or just exciting gems every time I pass by the bookstore or the online bookstore...

Recently, I'd become obsessed with the Kresley Cole Immortals After Dark Series. I love those books! I got one for free or maybe it was 50 cents at my local RWA chapter. We have book exchanges and raffles. One day, I got some books both in the book exchange and I won a goodie bag in a raffle. At first, I was dismayed by the quirky title: Dark Needs at Night's Edge. Who thinks up these things?

But, then I got to reading. And, I got to liking. And, I realized there was a whole series...So, from that point on, I was a goner. I read them all except for book #5--which I am postponing because I don't want to wait a long time for book #6 to come out.

A week ago, I got an email from Amazon saying that there was a 4 for the price of 3 romance novel sale. Temptation got the best of me. I saw a Christine Warren book in the promotion and I'd already read She's No Faerie Princess, so I was excited. I thought, why not just buy the rest of the series since I'm brainstorming a paranormal right now. So, I bought 5 books!

And, my friend Eden Bradley's book Forbidden Fruit came out and I was at the bookstore last weekend and had to buy it. A few weeks ago, my RWA chapter had a fundraiser at Barnes & Noble and I just had to buy something in support.

Is it time to check me into book-rehab? Or some kind of obssessive compulsive support group? Book Buyer's Anonymous?

Do Your Heroines Resemble You or Anyone You Know?

When I first started writing romance in the eighth grade or so, I generally chose dark-haired heroines. I had a thing about making a blond heroine the star of the books. I also tended to write about tall heroines (I'm a 5'8" brunette). Today, I write heroines of differing hair colors and heights, but I wonder if there is a natural tendency to write heroines that look like us or maybe even a sister or close friend.

While I do sometimes pick actresses or models who resemble my character, I haven't yet made a character look like a friend. However, there is one particular story that I plan to write eventually in which I will base the look off of a girl I've seen who works at a local bookstore. I just noticed one day that she had beautiful features and looked like what I want my heroine to look like. Interestingly, a friend of my mom's looks a lot like this character and like an older version of the girl in the bookstore. But, these things kind of came to me after I already had the character in mind.

So, do your characters look like you? Or, someone you know?

What's in a name?

Thursday, I will be blogging at Deadly Vixens. The topic will be ex-boyfriends and how and where they can show up in your writing.

Today, I'm going to talk about a problem that often comes up for me...making sure I don't keep repeating the same names or the same first letter of character names. This one is tough for me. A couple of years ago, I wrote a few chapters of a medieval romance with paranormal elements. My heroine's name was Astrith. Her father's name was Alden. Her brother, who died several years before the story begins, is named Alaric. And each one is important to the story to some degree. But, talk about problematic for a reader. I contemplated changing Alaric to Eric, but I still couldn't figure out what to do with Astrith and Alden.

My novella, Secrets Uncovered, is an altered version of a story I wrote in high school. The theme is the same in the two stories, but the plot is different and Secrets Uncovered is three times longer. But, my subconscious mind had a definite idea of who the characters would be in these stories. In my high school story, the heroine's name was Elizabeth and nicknamed Eliza. The hero's name was Jared. The best friend's name was Margaret. In my current novella, the heroine's name is Elena (short for Eleanor) and the hero is Jamie and the best friend is named Melissa. Even the annoying secondary character has a similar name. I had a character named Constance in the first story and in Secrets, the other woman is named Cherise.

And, recently, I had an idea for a fantasy romance series set in a medieval world. The heroine's name is Eleyne/Eleyn. I wanted something like Helene, but I may use that name for an older story idea I had, so I looked up Medieval names and came up with Eleyne. But, doesn't that look and sound a lot similar to Elena?

I have this odd connection to heroines whose names start with an E or an A. I just can't seem to help myself. But, in order for my stories to be effective, I have to help the reader. Which means I can't keep overusing the same names!

Do you find you have favorite names or name sounds that pop up over and over? Did you ever read a book that you could have really enjoyed if it weren't for the fact that too many characters had similar names?

What do you love about your hero?

My first polished historical romance novella, Secrets Uncovered, is a Victorian piece about an American widow who journeys to England with her best friend in search of a man she thinks is her father. Along the way, she meets a sexy earl--Jamie Davenport, Earl of St. James--who cannot seem to take no for an answer. He teases and provokes her at every opportunity and catches her doing things that a proper lady would not do.

In the past, I've written stories and lost my momentum somewhere in the middle. No matter how much I wanted to write a long, intricate piece, it just wouldn't happen. And, I could not get myself to edit and revise.

Something happened with this book. Namely Jamie Davenport. When I did not know what to write, when I was frustrated, when I was unsure or when I was bored, Jamie was there, convincing me to keep writing. To keep putting his words on the page.

There's that old cliche that romance authors fall in love with their heroes. I suppose it is true. I have heroes of mine that I've liked before, but I will admit that I love Jamie. He's quite demanding. In a good way.

What do I love about Jamie?

Besides those incredible dark blue eyes (I liken them to sapphires and the sea at dusk), I love the way that Jamie is completely sure of himself. He never doubts his abilities. There is an innate confidence and assertiveness that just emanate from him. It's a quality I've always wanted, but apparently, it seems to manifest itself most often in my books rather than my life. Jamie can be very patient, but he is always persistent. After three months of being somewhat ignored by the heroine, he is still as determined as ever to win her over. He doesn't have a concept that life won't bring him what he wants. He assumes that all it takes is a new tactic or more patience.

So, what do you love about your hero? Or, if you are not a romance writer, what do you love about your favorite film or literary hero?