Guest Blogger Rhonda Carver - Bad-Ass Heroes

First, I’d like to say thank you to the Naughty Nine for allowing me to stop by. The reason why I’m here is because I love to write. Of course, I’m an author, right? However, do you know what I love to write? Nothing makes my heart skip a beat more than bad-ass men that take a little polishing to shine their kindness. In Dreaming Ivy, there’s not just one bad-ass, but there’s double the trouble. Max and Marcus, both need refining. Max is the hero of present. He is a ghost hunter who carries enough emotional baggage that only the “dead” want anything to do with him…until Ivy comes along. Then there’s Marcus. A hero of the past, about one-hundred years to be exact…who also has a soft spot for Ivy, uhh, Elizabeth . Sound confusing? Here’s the quick sum of it. Max is a descendant of Marcus. He is drawn to the Thornton’s Mansion, known for being haunted. Ivy is a feisty journalist who is curious why a well-known ghost hunter like Max is in her small town. Together, they stay in the house. While there, Ivy begins to have dreams of Marcus, a man who lived in the house years before. The dreams begin to transform and Ivy is traveled back to a time when Marcus was falling in love with Elizabeth, or rather Ivy from a past life. Ivy must find her way either in the past or the future. She must choose…and it’s never easy. If you like a book that is a mixture of spook, bad-ass men and naughty sex, Dreaming Ivy is your pick.

Book Blurb:

Can a past love become their future?

The Thorntons' mansion is full of timeless secrets waiting to be unraveled. When small-town journalist Ivy and ghost hunter Max are stuck in the forgotten, dilapidated house, they find more than just a haunting. Ivy finds herself dreaming of the former owners, Marcus Thornton and his lovely wife, Elizabeth. Their profound love was once the talk of the town, and the cause their mysterious, untimely deaths never found. When Ivy's dreams begin to become reality, the mystery starts to unravel and sheds truth on more than just the past.

WARNING: Graphic language, naughty ghosts, a non-committal male, and a love that endures beyond time and death.

Excerpt: 

Ivy stepped into the corridor. She stopped and listened. Out of the corner of her eye she saw a shadow sweep across the wall. She turned as it disappeared. “Hello?” No answer. She stomped down the hall and burst into the room. “Hello--” 

The room was empty.

Ivy swallowed the taste of fright. A shiver raced across her skin. She had seen someone, or had she? She rubbed her eyes. Maybe the shadows were playing tricks on her.

A loud crack in the floor behind her sent Ivy twisting. The sun from the window blinded her. She acted on impulse. She drew her fist back and punched--landing on something solid. The force behind her connection with skin and bone sent her off balance, flailing backward. A hand on her wrist pulled her hard against a steely frame.

She met a dark stare, just as she felt wobbling. The impact of her body had sent him a step back. He lost his balance. Together they fell. The air whooshed from his chest as Ivy landed on top of the stranger.

She closed her eyes and remained still. She wanted nothing more than for the floor to swallow her. Several long seconds floated by. Neither of them said a word. She finally opened her eyes.

Embarrassed and confused, Ivy laid her palms against his shoulders, pushing herself up. She looked directly into his not-so-pleased expression and gulped. Enchanting green eyes, prominent cheekbones, midnight hair...and a pissed-off set to his jaw. She’d made a mistake--a huge one. “Max Shepard.” It wasn’t a question.

He narrowed his eyes. “Ivy Kennedy, journalist and amateur boxer?”

The deep, rich tone of his voice did funny things to the pit of her stomach. His voice wasn’t the only toned part of him. Pressed together gave her an up close and personal testimonial of his physical assets. Broad chest, tight abs to long legs, she could feel tight muscles and a curious bulge. She scooted her hip around the swelling in his jeans. Heat and realization spread through her body.

One corner of his mouth lifted. “It’s my cell.” Could he see straight through her?

“Cell?”

He reached into his pocket and held up his phone. Ivy was certain her skin changed into the perfect color of mortification. She wondered just how bad this could get. Pasting a smile on her face, she said, “Nice to meet you.” The temperature rose between them into the triple digits. Their bodies seemed to melt together. He didn’t look like the pictures she’d seen on the internet. He looked more distinguished in person. “You’re older than I thought,” she blurted.

“Older?”

“Older, in a good way.” She licked her bottom lip and nervously pushed her hair behind her ear. “My mother said I have a bad habit of saying the most awkward things and rambling--” She swallowed. “--like I am now.” She moved slightly.

His zipper started to swell again. Was that another cell phone in his pocket, or… Before her mind could complete the thought, he wrapped his large hands around her waist and lifted her off him. He set her on her feet as he came to stand in front of her. “That’s better,” he said as he backed up. “Damn.” He kicked rug that must have been the reason behind their fall.

He stood there, silent. This was a complete disaster. She’d managed to give him a black eye to match the dark scowl on his face. She needed to start searching for a new job. Marshall would have her head for this.

Rhonda Lee Carver is a hopeless romantic. Whether you like sweet romance or erotica, she has written a story for you. Rhonda read her first novel at thirteen and that was the open window into her destiny. She began writing ghost stories as a teen, and as years passed, her stories bloomed into steamy, passionate tales. She likes creating intelligent, saucy heroines who can challenge a bad-ass hero. She believes in love, and everyone has a soulmate.

Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/rhondalee.carver

Facebook Author Page: http://www.facebook.com/pages/Rhonda-Lee-Carver-Author

Website: www.rhondaleecarver.com

Blogger: http://rhondaleecarver-author.blogspot.com

Buy link: http://www.lyricalpress.com/store/index.php?main_page=product_info&cPath=3_31&products_id=521

Five Lessons from #NaNoWriMo

As many of you know, November 1st marked the start of National Novel Writing Month. We're now in the home stretch--four days from the deadline to write 50,000 words. And though I got a late start, I'm now hovering at a comfortable 43,000 in this manuscript.While this is not my first attempt at completing NaNo, this has been the easiest. Here's what I've learned:

1. You have to accept that, for thirty days, you're going to have to let go of some combination of responsibilities: clean house, homemade dinners, sleep, date night, or taking your kids to their after school activities. IT'S OK to start December with a messy house--really. I promise.

2. Drafting out the story helps me write faster: I know this isn't the case for pantsers, but SO many NaNo-ers struggled with where to take their story next, and that costs precious time. I spent a good week in October figuring out what I was going to write, so when November 1st hit, all I had to do was get it on paper.

3. Ignore your mistakes: yWriter is great for this because there's no spelling or grammar check. You're in a very minimalist screen, so it's just you and the words. When I have sections I think I want to delete, I either strike through the font or have a separate section of my manuscript that's just for these reject bits. I usually end up using parts of them, and if you delete, they don't contribute toward your word count.

4. Find writing buddies: Whether online via #1k1hr or #wordwars or #amwriting, or through the NaNo local chapters, commiserating and brainstorming and word-sprinting with other NaNo-ers is mentally invigorating.

5. Set reasonable expectations for yourself: I know that writing 1,667 words on a work night just doesn't happen; I also know that on weekends, I can crank out 5k if I clear my schedule. Instead of forcing out 1,667 words that I'll need to later rewrite, I aim for 1k evenings, let myself get behind during the week, and bust my ass on the weekends to make up lost time. Stressful? Yeah, kind of. But when I finish, I'll definitely have less editing to do. TL;DR: work with your writing quirks.

 

Find me on NaNoWriMo here: http://nanowrimo.org/en/participants/skylar_kade

Foodie Friday: Holiday Treats

From Nine Naughty Novelist Sydney Somers

These yummy squares were an annual favorite growing up. 

PINEAPPLE SQUARES

What you need:

2 1/2 cups graham crumbs 

1/2 cup melted butter

1 box vanilla pudding and pie filling

2 cups milk

1 large can crushed pineapple, drained

2 cups whipping cream

1 tsp vanilla

2 tbsp sugar

What to do:

Mix graham graham crumbs (set aside 1/4 cup for topping) and butter together and press into a 9x13 pan. Bake for 10-12 mins at 350º. Let cool.

Cook pudding on stove as per package instructions until thick. Spread over crust. Let cool.

Whip cream, adding sugar and vanilla until thick. Fold in drained crushed pineapple. Spread over pudding layer and sprinkle with remaining graham crumbs. Cover and refrigerate for at least two hours. 

Enjoy!

Primal Pleasure

Pendragon Gargoyles, Book 3

He will have his revenge–one wicked seduction at a time.

Emma is used to getting dragged into her twin sister’s magical messes, but this time her predicament is more than a minor annoyance. She’s chained to a cat shifter that her sister encased in a curse of stone. Worse, the unfortunate gargoyle’s waking up. And her sister’s not there to take the heat.

After a century suspended in stone, Cian would do anything to get his hands on the sorceress who put him there. Strangely, his dreams of revenge turn into an animal hunger to put his hands all over her—in every delightfully wicked way imaginable.

Never as talented as her sister, Emma doesn’t trust her own magic. But for now she must let Cian believe she’s the culprit in order to strike a bargain: to permanently lift the curse in exchange for his tracking skills to find her missing sister. The longer she is near him, though, the closer she comes to surrendering much more than her body to the brutal warrior.

As their attraction catches fire, Emma dreads what could happen when he learns the truth. If he will sacrifice her to break the spell…or fight for a love that goes beyond animal instinct.

Read an excerpt

Visit Sydney's Website or friend her on Facebook

From Guest Author Alanna Coca

I like to call this "Fudge So Easy, Even Alanna Can Make It"

Line one 9x13 pan with foil or butter.

In a large pot, stir the following together over medium heat:

1.5 sticks butter (margarine works, but butter is best)

10 oz evaporated milk (I know, it comes in a 12oz can. Sorry)

3 c sugar

Stir consistently to avoid scorching. Allow to boil for five minutes, stirring constantly, then remove from heat.

Fold in the following ingredients:

1 12 oz package milk chocolate chips (you can use semisweet if you prefer)

1 7 oz jar marshmallow creme

1 t vanilla

Pour into pan and refrigerate until firm. Allow pot to cool before licking out remaining fudge. Trust me on this.

Yummy variations:

Top with crushed peppermint candies, walnuts, Andes Mints, or colorful sprinkles as the fudge is cooling

Substitute peanut butter or white chocolate chips.

Substitute almond extract or peppermint for vanilla

Leave part of the marshmallow creme until the very end, swirl it through the fudge as it cools

This turns out 99% of the time, but when it doesn't set, it makes a very good ice cream topping.

About Alanna

Always a voracious reader, Alanna began writing poetry in grade school, and short stories in high school. After her first release, a nineteenth-century western love story, she moved to romantic suspense and contemporary romance, but keeps the cowboys close to her heart. For a spicier selection of romance novels by Alanna, visit her alter ego, Olivia Brynn

Websites http://www.alannacoca.com http://www.oliviabrynn.com

Twitter http://www.twitter.com/alannacoca http://www.twitter.com/oliviabrynn

Facebook http://facebook.com/alannacocaauthor http://facebook.com/oliviabrynnauthor 

Thursday 13: Thanksgiving Dinner

While we desperately wish we could spend Thanksgiving together, so far that hasn't been possible. We're hosting a virtual Thanksgiving potluck here instead! What are you bringing to the party?

DRINKS
Vanilla White Crantini (Kelly)
White Hot Chocolate with White Chocolate Liqueur (Erin)
Pumpkin Martini (PG)

DINNER
Turkey (Kelly)
Paula Deen green bean casserole (Meg)

Yellow Curry Pumpkin Stew (PG)
Kachemak Bay seafood chowder (Juniper)
Dressing (Meg)

Brûléed Mashed Sweet Potatoes (Kate)

Cranberry-Pomegranate-Orange Relish (PG)
Pickled Collard Greens (Juniper)


DESSERT
Chocolate Chunk Pecan Bars (Kate)
Cream Cheese Pumpkin Roll (Erin)

Heartthrobs and Crushes

 My Diva, recently turned 11, is still the fierce tomboy who eschews dresses and make-up and hair brushing and showering. Boys are stupid and Justin Bieber posters are fit only for archery targets.

Look! It's a baby douchebag! What would you do to your daughter if she ever dated a guy wearing these pants?

I noted on Facebook the other day that as we were walking into Target, Diva noted she was wearing the same clothes she'd had on the day before. She'd spent the night on the couch (it was a weekend) surrounded by dogs, and her hair "couldn't [have been] more uncombed if I'd tried!" She was really proud of her unwashed, unbrushed, puppy-sleeping status.

When I recounted all this on Facebook, one of my friends commented with a single word: "Scout." And I was like - oh, yeah. I love Scout (aka Miss Jean Louise Finch, of To Kill a Mockingbird). But Scout, in the book and in the movie, is 6 years old. Diva just turned 11.

And since about 1962 - when both To Kill a Mockingbird  and Love Me Do were released -- eleven is the age about which a girl becomes susceptible to Heart Throb Syndrome.

(Ok - honestly? There's no reason to drag Scout Finch into this. But we watched the movie tonight, and Diva's reading it right now, and there is much in Scout's character that I see in Diva's as well.)


So on Facebook a few weeks ago, one of my friends--whose daughter is in Diva's class at school--mentioned that her girl was wanting to take tea at 3:00 pm every day because that's what the English do, and One Direction are English.

OMG! OMG OMG OMG!!!

Yes, Diva's schoolmate's mom is getting tired of One Direction. And I don't blame her. I was SO glad Diva wasn 't into a particular band.

Until one day her armoire sprouted a poster of the kid from Austin and Alley. (I swear Disney is getting these teenagers from some Syd and Marty Kroft warehouse - they're all as pale and skinny as the corporately manufactured heart throbs I loved in the 70s.)

Oh - wait. Did someone mention heart throbs of the 70s?

Okay. My first real record - meaning a record only I would like, meant only for ME to play, was Donny Osmond Superstar.

I never joined the Mormon church. But I still like purple.

 It was given to me by an uncle when I was quite young (about Diva's age). I knew right away that I was Donny's Destiny. I insisted on buying only purple socks, and I told my mother I would be joining the Mormon church as soon as I was old enough.






Then, for about five minutes, I fell in love with Tony DeFranco.

 After that it was The Bay City Rollers.

Yes, people in the 70s were skinny and yes, it was because of drugs.

And then Shaun Cassidy. 

 
Also, at some point, Leif Garret.

He doesn't look like this anymore. Like, not at all.

[Note: I also remember David Soul and Bobby Sherman from Here Come the Brides, but I was really young when that was on TV and I'm not sure I can classify it as a heart throb.]

Of all the guys mentioned so far, only Shaun Cassidy still has a real career going.

He writes and produces. THAT'S where the lasting careers are made.

The Austin poster has come down, replaced by something animal-oriented.

It's going to happen again, though, and it's going to be worse next time.

Guest Blogger Robyn Bachar - Self-Rescuing Princess

Thanks for having me today! Hi, I’m Robyn, and I’ve been addicted to video games since the moment I first picked up a Nintendo controller, ran into a mushroom and died. I vividly remember the frustration of finishing each level only to be told that the princess was in another castle. Over and over. There’s only so much a person can take before saying forget the princess, she’s on her own.

Thankfully video games have come a long way since then, and now not only do you get to be the princess now, you get to slay dragons too. I love it. So when the “Self-Rescuing Princess” T-shirt at Think Geek popped up while shopping one day, I had a moment. First, because I want it (pay attention, BFF Diana, clearly I need this for Chrismukkah), and second, because that’s so Patience. I’m pretty sure she’s wearing that shirt beneath her jacket on the cover for Fire in the Blood.

I love writing heroines who kick butt as much as I love playing them in video games. In my new novella Fire in the Blood, Patience Roberts is a woman who can defeat any enemy. Room full of demons? Not a problem. Magician hunters? Don’t make her laugh. Vampire assassins? Piece of cake. Lovesick faerie?

Okay, that one isn’t so simple. Cue the blurb!

Patience Roberts is the last summoner standing between magiciankind and certain demon invasion. After banishing two or three demons a day for too long, gods know she’d like nothing better than a little down time with her number one distraction—Faust.

But with vampires, hunters and assassins lined up to take her out, who has the time? Still, she has to admit her resistance to the amorous faerie is wearing thin. Not that she’ll ever let on—after all, faeries are notorious for their short romantic attention spans.

Faust, a Shadowspawn faerie, watched as his outcast clan dwindled to nothing. Determined to hold on to the woman he loves, he’ll do whatever it takes to protect Patience. And one day build a life with her.

When an old demon enemy punches through the barrier between the worlds, Patience must draw on every ounce of her reputation as a cast-iron bitch to temporarily banish him. To get rid of him for good, she’ll have to sacrifice one too many pieces of her soul to leave room for love…

Warning: Contains a hero and heroine so hot they’re literally on fire, naughty faerie sex, post-coital cuteness, angsty magician drama, and yet more gratuitous violence against vampires, demons, and innocent furniture.

Fire in the Blood is out today! Instead of obsessively staring at my Amazon ranking, I will be celebrating by playing Dragon Age 2 and flirting with Fenris. For my fellow gamers out there, what is your favorite game? And for those of you who haven’t experienced the joy of throwing a video game controller across the room, who is your favorite kick-butt heroine?



Robyn Bachar was born and raised in Berwyn, Illinois, and loves all things related to Chicago, from the Cubs to the pizza. It seemed only natural to combine it with her love of fantasy, and tell stories of witches and vampires in the Chicagoland area. As a gamer, Robyn has spent many hours rolling dice, playing rock-paper-scissors and slaying creatures in MMPORGs. You can learn more about her at www.robynbachar.com. Robyn can also be found on Twitter at www.twitter.com/RobynBachar.

End Of the Season

As I’ve mentioned at least a few times before, I used to live in South Texas. In fact, I lived there for over twenty years. One of the particular things I don’t miss about South Texas is the lack of any real seasons. We used to say that we had Slightly Hot, Slightly More Hot, and OMG Turn Up the Air Conditioning.

Now I live in Colorado where, needless to say, we have four very rigidly defined seasons. Gardening is bracketed by the last frost in April or May and the first frost in September or October. This means farmers markets are also pretty rigidly seasonal. You get greens and peas early on, tomatoes and sweet corn in July, and root veggies from September until the end.

The Boulder Farmers Market is one of the biggest in the state and even has a national rep. I love it, although I always end up buying stuff that I then have to figure out how to use, like lion’s head mushrooms (good luck with that). Unlike some of the smaller farmers markets, Boulder runs until the middle of November, which means the farmers have to deal with frost and early snows—one year we had our first blizzard before Halloween, which meant the market featured a whole lot of bargain basement produce the following Saturday. The hubs and I went to one of the final Saturdays a couple of weeks ago and a good thing we did—last Saturday featured a full day of sleet.

The hubs had a new camera, and he spent much of his time photographing veggies. This may seem like an odd thing to do, but veggies can be beautiful, particularly at the end of the season when the multicolor root veggies are prevalent. Moreover, the folks at the farmers market know to pile their produce in wonderful profusion, so that you can hardly resist taking a few carrots home with you. Anyway, here are some shots from the veggie cam.

Frankly, I hate beets. But at the same time I freely admit that they look great, particularly the multicolor minis like these.

I kinda think this is radiccio but I'm not entirely sure. It just looked very pretty sitting there in its basket.

It's late in the year for peppers, but the farmers still have quite a few. One of the stands had them tumbled out on a table, cornucopia style.

Ah, carrots. I actually bought some of these, although I have yet to do anything with them.

Pie pumpkins, but they also work for decoration. And very handsome specimens they are, too.

The farmers markets are done now until next April, and I'm very sad about it. This means I'll be stuck with Krogers and Safeway and Whole Foods with their imported produce and high prices. But once April rolls around we'll be back. With camera, I'm guessing.

Happy Thanksgiving, y'all!