tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12859822112815263042024-02-19T01:58:55.541-09:00M.A. Grant, Romance AuthorMusings on writing and romance.M.A. Granthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09376566536069885120noreply@blogger.comBlogger80125truetag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1285982211281526304.post-35469750202490040442016-12-31T13:30:00.004-09:002016-12-31T16:20:26.799-09:00M.A. Grant's Top Books of 2016<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Despite the struggles of 2016, my "favorites" bookshelf grew a lot heavier. For a number of reasons, this year became a breather for me, a chance to recharge. Most of that came through reading. The books listed below may not have a lot of detail in my reviews/descriptions, but I can assure you that all of these have left a huge impression on me.<br />
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<a href="https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/29875088-the-soldier-s-scoundrel" target="_blank"><i>The Soldier's Scoundrel</i> by Cat Sebastian</a> - The book is addictive and a perfect historical. The audiobook is even better. I've listened to it at least five times and go back to it over and over.<br />
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<a href="https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/9305362-captive-prince" target="_blank">The Captive Prince trilogy by C.S. Pacat</a> - The series (<i>Captive Prince, Prince's Gambit, Kings Rising</i>) engrossed me completely. I couldn't read them fast enough. I couldn't reread them enough. They're going to be classics of the fantasy genre. Full stop.<br />
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<a href="https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/29233804-wolfsong" target="_blank"><i>Wolfsong</i> by TJ Klune</a> - For the record, pretty much every book I've read by TJ Klune is amazeballs. His BOATK series made me cry multiple times, which rarely happens. But <i>Wolfsong</i> is something else. It's one of the best shifter stories I've ever read. And again, the audiobook is damn good too.<br />
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<a href="https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/23734628-carry-on" target="_blank"><i>Carry On</i> by Rainbow Rowell</a> - This book was probably the single most important text I read all year. It prompted me to return to writing with a story that I'd never thought myself brave enough to write; that same story is what landed me an agent, a new group of fans and friends, and reminded me why I started writing in the first place. This is one of the most beautiful fantasy novels ever and its audiobook is magical.<br />
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<a href="https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/25376011-for-real" target="_blank"><i>For Real</i> by Alexis Hall</a> - There's a reason this book won the RITA. Full disclosure, it's erotica, but unlike any erotica book I've ever read before. The whole point is that those heated sexual moments drive the character and plot arcs; this is one of the rawest, most emotional books I read this year and I finally gave in to get the audiobook and have been very impressed with the dueling narration and how <i>right</i> it sounds.<br />
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<a href="https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/238183.Selling_Your_Story_in_60_Seconds" target="_blank"><i>Selling Your Story in 60 Seconds: The Guaranteed Way to Get Your Screenplay or Novel Read</i> by Michael Hauge</a> - Hauge's a legend in his own right and when I was nervous about going to the RWA conference and pitching my story, I decided to throw in and see if his methods could help me. They apparently did since I used his techniques during the Twitter pitch that helped me catch the attention of Deidre Knight, who now represents me. Novelists and screenwriters will likely get different things from this book, but it offers quick, understandable advice about how to make your work shine when pitching.<br />
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Obviously, there were tons of other books I've read that could have easily made this list, but I wanted to keep it short and simple. Since I've kept returning to these, I'll proudly announce them as my top books of 2016. Now to see what 2017 brings!M.A. Granthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09376566536069885120noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1285982211281526304.post-22932231350481713692016-11-11T00:01:00.000-09:002016-11-11T00:01:16.254-09:00Cover Reveal: Wild Card Undercover<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: left;">
<span style="color: #333333;"><span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">It is my great pleasure to be able to share the details of my incredible CP Kari Lemor's first release. I've been fortunate enough to read the drafts of this book and know that it's just the start of an incredible series. If you're a fan of romance with a hint of suspense, be sure to jump in with the series. Pre-orders are available now and the book will be out in March 2017. Congrats Kari!!!</span></span></div>
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<b><span style="color: #333333; font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt;">WILD CARD
UNDERCOVER</span></b></div>
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<span style="color: #333333; font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 10.5pt;">#1 in the Love on the Line series<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: #333333; font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 10.5pt;">By Kari Lemor<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: #333333; font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 10.5pt;">Published by Kensington Lyrical Underground –
March 2017<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<b><i><span style="background: white;"> All that glitters in Miami is not
gold…<o:p></o:p></span></i></b></span></div>
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<span style="background: white; color: #333333; font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 10.5pt;">Lured in by a bad ex-boyfriend and the
moonlight of Miami, Meg O’Hara is trapped in a nightmare situation, waiting
tables for a crime boss and fearing for her life. When undercover FBI agent
Christopher Shaunessy offers her a way out, she seizes it. Getting the goods on
Salazar Moreno might not be easy, but she’ll do anything to be freed from her
servitude and Moreno’s sexual advances, even if it means moving in with the
charismatic agent.</span><span style="color: #333333; font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 10.5pt;"><br />
<span style="background: white;"> </span><br />
<span style="background: white;">Chris Shaunessy pretends to be Meg’s lover in
order to keep her safe, but he steels his heart against further involvement.
Passion has no place in the sordid world of organized crime. And yet, the
closer they get to cracking the case, the stronger his feelings for the
spirited waitress shine. It’s a dangerous game he’s playing, and taking Meg in
his arms for real could prove a fatal misstep . . .<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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Chapter 1<o:p></o:p></div>
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“Does that man never have a day off?” Margaret
Kathleen O’Hara grumbled, grabbing her tote bag and sarong to move
surreptitiously along the chairs by the pool. If the hotel manager saw her here
again she’d be toast. He’d more than toss her out. Threats to call the police
had been thrown at her for months now. Although in her case, that might be a
better deal. <o:p></o:p></div>
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With her eyes trained on his location and the Miami
sun beating down on her exposed skin, Meg backed along the water’s edge
attempting to leave the area before he spotted her. She needed to shower the
chlorine out of her tangled hair and change for work soon. He looked in her
direction and she rushed behind the closest object. It was six-foot-plus of
blond-haired gorgeousness. The man’s eyes were glued to something on the upper
deck. Her boss was sitting there with one of his expensive bimbos. Did Blondie
like that type? Maybe he wouldn’t notice her little game of Hide and Seek. <o:p></o:p></div>
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She leaned around him, ducking back when she saw the
Pool Nazi still present. Getting caught was not an option. She already owed
more than she could ever repay. <o:p></o:p></div>
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“Are you okay?” Forest green eyes stared down at her,
puzzled. Would he buy that she was simply looking for shade? He was big enough
to provide it. <o:p></o:p></div>
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With strong hands, he reached for her shoulders and
Meg reflexively batted them away. She got enough of people groping her at work.
Scorching curses froze before erupting from her mouth as the hotel manager
moved, staring in their direction. Her mind kicked into overdrive, scrambling
for a way to hide in plain sight. <o:p></o:p></div>
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“Sorry,” she squeaked. Grabbing the man’s head, she
planted her mouth solidly on his. Short, thick strands of hair tickled her
fingers. Firm lips yielded no resistance to the increased pressure of her
mouth. Better make this look good. <o:p></o:p></div>
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An electric current skittered over her skin causing
her heart to race. Maybe too good? Slowly he pulled her closer with his
muscular arms. Her eyes flew open and she broke the connection. His
hair-covered chest was too close for comfort. And much too tempting. Distance,
she needed distance. <o:p></o:p></div>
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Her eyes darted around, seeing no signs of the
manager. A sigh escaped. Time to make her exit as well. <o:p></o:p></div>
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“Sorry,” she mumbled again, looking up. Big mistake.
The stranger’s curious eyes captivated her. They were soft and tender and
filled with something she could…trust? If she still had any of that left in
her. His hands were gentle as they held her. A tiny smile played about the full
lips she’d brazenly kissed. She couldn’t believe she’d done it. Her mother
would be appalled. But it had worked. <o:p></o:p></div>
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The chlorine scent from the pool faded into the
background as sweat and suntan lotion wafted off the man’s damp skin. Her
stomach did cartwheels followed by a few back flips. Dangerous. <o:p></o:p></div>
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“Let me go,” she hissed as reality returned. She gave
a swift shove at his well-defined pectorals, rushing to get past, to escape
from this distraction and the possibility of being caught. Her head whipped
around at the sound of a splash and water droplets from behind. Gorgeous was
just breaking the surface of the pool. Had she pushed him that hard? <o:p></o:p></div>
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“Oops.” No time for apologies. He looked like the
forgiving type. She had to blow this joint before the Pool Nazi came back.
Grabbing her fallen sarong, she ran across the deck to hustle inside the luxury
hotel. <o:p></o:p></div>
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“Damn.” <o:p></o:p></div>
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The manager stood sentry near the front door. A crowd
appeared at her back making that way impossible. The stairwell to the left
would have to do. She’d go up a few floors then down to the side entrance. She
wrapped her sarong around her as she carried out her plan to avoid being
seen…and caught. <o:p></o:p></div>
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Meg should stop coming here to use the pool: this
proved it. Sneaking in was adding to her already hellish life but swimming
always helped work out the stress and the pool here was more accessible than
any other on the strip. Pretending she had money to stay in a place like this,
rubbing elbows with all the beautiful people, yeah, that got her through too.
She’d learned the best times to come and not be seen. Well, for the most part.
It was well worth the risk to get away from her dump of a room and its
enchanting neighborhood. She’d leave this all behind her soon. She kept telling
herself that. Had to believe it for her own sanity. <o:p></o:p></div>
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Footsteps behind her pushed those thoughts away. Her
bare feet padded silently along the lushly carpeted hallway. Heart racing, she
ducked into the ice machine alcove, her sigh echoing in the silence. She
glanced down. Her bag? She must have dropped it as she rushed off. How had she
not realized? It couldn’t have been the threat of being arrested. Or the
crooked smile of the handsome stranger she’d kissed. The one with the kind eyes
and gentle hands. No, she couldn’t allow herself to be led astray by a pretty
face. Not again. <o:p></o:p></div>
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She continued down the hall, her trip cut short when
someone grabbed her by the arm and spun her around.<o:p></o:p></div>
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* * * *<o:p></o:p></div>
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Links to all pre-order retailers can be accessed on the Kensington site<o:p></o:p></div>
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<a href="http://www.ekensingtonbooks.com/book.aspx/34406">http://www.ekensingtonbooks.com/book.aspx/34406</a><o:p></o:p></div>
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For more information on Kari Lemor or her Love on the Line series from
Kensington Lyrical Underground, follow her on social media:<o:p></o:p></div>
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<a href="http://www.karilemor.com/">http://www.karilemor.com/</a><o:p></o:p></div>
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<a href="http://www.facebook.com/Karilemorauthor/">http://www.facebook.com/Karilemorauthor/</a><o:p></o:p></div>
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<a href="http://twitter.com/karilemor">http://twitter.com/karilemor</a><o:p></o:p></div>
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<a href="http://www.pinterest.com/karilemor/">http://www.pinterest.com/karilemor/</a><o:p></o:p></div>
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M.A. Granthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09376566536069885120noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1285982211281526304.post-42779518824095824532016-10-16T21:17:00.001-08:002016-10-16T21:17:17.887-08:00Developing characterOne of my favorite jobs as an author is to tease out who my characters are. I mean, they're so busy yammering at me that it makes sense that I should get to know them. Sometimes this process is easy, other times it's like pulling teeth. And sometimes I want to get a different view of the character because I know the truth may not be fully there.<br />
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Sebastian and Sláine from <i>Prince of Earth and Ice</i>, the sequel of <i>Prince of Air and Darkness</i>, are two such characters. Sebastian is a prodigal Seelie prince and Sláine is the Unseelie high prince who defected and became a traitor to his people. Neither of them is good at letting down their guards; if they did, survival would be impossible. Writing their love story is a true challenge and I'm enjoying myself immensely.<br />
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One of my favorite ways to tease out more meaning behind characters is to draw them a quick tarot spread. It's only three cards -- past, present, and future -- and recognizing threads throughout the cards often gives me great ideas of what to enfold later in the manuscript.<br />
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The deck I used for these spreads (and my favorite deck in general) is the Llewellyn deck. The focus on Welsh mythology and the soft and detailed watercolor designs are perfect for a story of warring faerie courts and the political intrigue and romance that come with them.<br />
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<b>SEBASTIAN'S SPREAD</b><br />
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Seb's spread was drawn first.<br />
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<ul>
<li><i>Ace of Wands</i> - A perfect card to suit Seb, the ace of wands is about rising to a challenge, becoming self-reliant, and learning to use reasoning and ideas to their fullest. The ace of any suit indicates the start of a journey; Seb's past, which comes back to haunt him in <i>PEI, </i>followed the call of this card and that adventure made him strong enough to face the events of the story I'm writing for him.</li>
<li><i>Six of Swords</i> - The suit of swords is a natural fit for the present. It's the suit of action, where good and bad can balance on the edge of a blade and a person's actions determine the course of the future. I love the ambiguity of the six of swords. A card indicating movement or a journey, it can also be interpreted as a declaration of love. Knowing where Seb starts and where he ends, I smiled as soon as this one made its appearance. </li>
<li><i>Ten of Cups</i> - As a romance writer, any time the suit of cups appears I know that I need to delve deeper into the emotions of my character. In this case, the ten of cups is one of the sweetest and most rewarding cards to have appear. The symbolism of a full life, of true love, of emotional fulfillment...This card is a happily ever after and knowing that Seb will journey there gives me even greater joy when writing his story.</li>
</ul>
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<b><br /></b>
<b>SLÁINE'S SPREAD</b><br />
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Sláine's spread was drawn second.</div>
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<ul>
<li><i>Four of Wands</i> - To see Sláine's past as this card of peace and balance was painful. He's a wounded man and the reminder of how much he's lost was perfect as I plot out how to show that part of his life. In order for anyone to fall to their lowest point, they must start at great heights and Sláine is no different.</li>
<li><i>Three of Swords </i>- Every time I draw this card I'm instantly on guard. Traditionally, the three of swords is a card associated with loss and sorrow. For Sláine, there are few cards in the deck that could better sum up his life at the present. But this suffering and misery is necessary for him to find his way out of hell. </li>
<li><i>Queen of Pentacles</i> - I didn't expect this card to show up for Sláine, but the longer I thought about it, the more it seemed to fit. His story is about the struggle of being an unwanted prince and his rash actions early on need to mature in order for his story to come to balance. The card was a reminder to me that no matter how far he seems to have fallen, in the end he will emerge calm, steady, and secure.</li>
</ul>
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While the process of drawing a simple spread is fun for me, it also helps me better understand my characters. Bits and pieces of this spread will probably show up in <i>PEI</i>, so now you know what to watch for when it comes out!</div>
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Do you have any other methods you enjoy using for writing out characters. If you enjoy tarot, are there any particular spreads you enjoy using that I should learn more about?</div>
M.A. Granthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09376566536069885120noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1285982211281526304.post-35460381416254920112016-08-03T12:07:00.000-08:002016-08-03T12:11:18.051-08:00The Chin Lift<div class="" data-block="true" data-editor="7ehuh" data-offset-key="5nqp-0-0" style="background-color: white; color: #1d2129; font-family: helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 18px; white-space: pre-wrap;">
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<span data-offset-key="5nqp-0-0">When I was preparing to go to San Diego, I commissioned an art piece for <i>Prince of Air and Darkness</i> from a graphic designer I found through DeviantArt. After giving her a brief description of Finny and Roark, this is what she produced:</span></div>
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<span data-offset-key="5nqp-0-0">Yes, I am in love.</span><br />
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Cut to this month. The fangirl-worthy Kelsey (a.k.a. Hootsweets) has done it again! This time around, I gave her the snippet of <i>Prince of Air and Darkness I've included below and she gave me another lovely commission in exchange.</i><br />
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* * * * *<br />
<span style="text-align: center;">I glance behind me, adjusting my speed so the ball will land just over my shoulder. It hits my hands and I clutch it to my side, spinning around another guy and heading at a diagonal toward the end zone. Gumba thunders toward me, but I may be just able to beat him there—</span><br />
<br />
A familiar form, partially obscured by the sun’s beams, walks by the sideline. I stumble a bit when I recognize the laconic gait.<br />
<br />
That was a bad idea.<br />
<br />
Gumba takes me down on the sideline. Even he’s surprised by how hard the hit was. He pokes my ribs and I make a noise to let him know I’m alive. It’s easiest to hand over the ball so the next play can start. I groan a little when I shift my head, spitting out grass and dirt. Right onto a shining pair of Oxfords mere inches from my face.<br />
<br />
My eyes travel up from the shoes to the straight, pressed lines of the wool slacks. The thin leather belt I could never afford. The buttons of the dress shirt. And there, like a freaking cherry on an evil sundae, the sharp twist of the lips that’s the closest he ever gets to smiling. Apparently, super-powered magickal villains don’t need to smile.<br />
<br />
“Wool in this weather, Roark? Isn’t that a bit douchey, even for you?” I snark.<br />
<br />
He looks like crap. His cheeks are hollowed, the hint of dark circles under his eyes. He’s always been pale, but this time there’s an edge of sickness to it, like he hasn’t seen the sun all summer. Although … Unseelie court. Not sure if they’re allowed aboveground.<br />
<br />
The toe of his Oxford stretches out and presses against the underside of my jaw, tilting my face up just enough for my eyes to meet his.<br />
<br />
Roark’s eyes are the freakiest thing I’ve ever seen. Ice blue, pale as fuck. Thanks to his dark, nearly black hair, they appear even lighter. Worse, he never glamours them. Which pisses me off to no end, since my own eyes are some muddy, unremarkable blue.<br />
<br />
Girls swoon over Roark’s eyes. They don’t swoon over mine.<br />
<br />
Right now, that glacial gaze skims over me, dissecting me with the brisk efficiency wealthy aristocrats seem born to use against their underlings.<br />
<br />
“Farmer’s tan and athletic shorts.” The edges of his mouth tighten. “Some things never change.”<br />
* * * * *<br />
As you can see, she outdid herself again.</div>
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Next month I'll post whatever my next commission from her is. In the meantime though, if you're interested in seeing more of Kelsey's work, you can find her through these sites:</div>
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<span data-offset-key="ffqgh-0-0"><a href="http://hexcomic.com/">http://hexcomic.com/</a> - Her original webcomic</span></div>
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<span data-offset-key="cohal-0-0"><a href="http://www.patreon.com/hootsweets">http://www.patreon.com/hootsweets</a> - Pledge page for updates on in-progress work and commissions</span></div>
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<span data-offset-key="d92hm-0-0"><a href="http://hootsweets.deviantart.com/">http://hootsweets.deviantart.com/</a> - DeviantArt collection</span></div>
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<span data-offset-key="ai3j9-0-0"><a href="http://hootsweets.tumblr.com/">http://hootsweets.tumblr.com/</a> - Tumblr collection</span></div>
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M.A. Granthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09376566536069885120noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1285982211281526304.post-23044294316310493782016-06-30T09:42:00.000-08:002016-06-30T09:42:05.095-08:00CourageF. Scott Fitzgerald once said, "Never confuse a single defeat with a final defeat."<br />
<br />
Sometimes I forget that. It's easy in today's world, with how closely connected we all are and how easy it is for jealousy to take us when we witness others' successes. It takes effort to practice gratitude and it's a battle I've constantly fought since my first book was published.<br />
<br />
There's always another author who's made it big, who's a best-seller now, who got optioned for film, who is smarter and more beautiful and more talented and generally damn better than you. And comparing yourself to others and their success only destroys your own sense of worth.<br />
<br />
So I avoid social media often. I keep a small company of good, devoted, hard working friends who focus on bolstering each other instead of tearing each other down. I work my ass off and pray every night that God will give me a chance to get a little better.<br />
<br />
Because <i>that</i> is my greatest fear. That one day the words will peter out and I'll be left with blank pages, or worse, pages filled with something akin to vomit.<br />
<br />
Don't get me wrong; I still pray for bigger deals, for landing an agent, for my friends to get big deals or important agents, for some actor to read my book and decide it <i>must</i> become a movie (hear that Luke Evans, Benedict Cumberbatch, Tom Hiddleston, Tom Hardy, or anyone else on my Pinterest boards???), and for me to someday be good enough at this writing gig that I can do it full time.<br />
<br />
But most of all, I pray that this strange ability to string words together into a shifting tale doesn't go away. I don't know if I could survive that.<br />
<br />
Sometimes, in the midst of the fear and panic and general anarchy that makes up a writer's life, courage makes an appearance. It's rare and I've found that it often doesn't come in the guise we expect. Courage has never shown up on my doorstep with a battle axe and plate armor, roaring about quests and grabbing the balls of life, while quaffing mead. In my experience, courage is the tiny voice whispering right behind my shoulder when I'm exhausted and sleep-deprived and emotionally drained and ready to call it quits <i>forever </i>because surely, quitting would be easier than experiencing the misery and self-loathing of missing my daily word count or not getting my phrasing correct or putzing 8 of my 12 work hours away on the Internet.<br />
<i><br /></i>
My courage is shy. It's no bigger than a thimble and often gives the same illusion of solidness. My courage only comes out when I forget about it. It's never around when I desperately need it, no matter how hard I look, how loudly I cajole, how furiously I threaten.<br />
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My courage believes in karma and divine justice. It has an unhealthy devotion to the concept that if you are a good person who works hard, you will be rewarded. It's never been wrong about that, so I can't really argue the point, no matter how often I grumble about it.<br />
<br />
It likes to peek its head around corners and inspect the situation before giving in to peer pressure, although it sometimes caves and skips along for a while before figuring out that it's made a horrible, terrible, no good, very bad mistake. It prefers to make choices about which loose leaf tea I'll drink than which direction my life is taking (although I suppose tea choices are important life decisions). It agonizes over whether I want to buy the 12 pack or 24 pack of colored pencils and then parades around with its chest puffed out over that extra $0.70 I spent to get the fancy set. It considers anything but clear nail polish to be a coup; it collapses in exhaustion after I get a pedicure. It sometimes scrapes together $5 so I can buy a bargain bouquet of flowers at the store simply because they'll look pretty on my kitchen table.<br />
<br />
I'm blessed with the Ferdinand of courage.M.A. Granthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09376566536069885120noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1285982211281526304.post-69352937045622191502016-05-23T23:38:00.003-08:002016-05-23T23:38:50.639-08:002016 Prism AwardsThis past Sunday my husband and I were out working in our garden, a common practice since it's summer in Alaska. I'd just finished staining my new raised beds when my phone rang. Normally I never answer if it's a number I don't recognize, but that instinct was dead like the mosquitoes on my arm. I'm so glad I picked up.<br />
<br />
Turns out I was receiving a call to let me know that <i>Honour Bound</i> is a finalist in the <a href="http://www.romance-ffp.com/prism-contest-published/" target="_blank">Fantasy, Futuristic, & Paranormal Romance Writers annual Prism contest</a>. The Prism contest is for published books and if you take a chance to look at the lists of past winners, it's clear that there is serious talent in every year's list of entries. To be have been chosen among this group is an incredible blessing and I am so grateful.<br />
<br />
So, this July when I go to San Diego for the RWA conference, I'll also be attending the FF&P's awards ceremony The Gathering and learning how <i>Honour Bound</i> did in the contest. More importantly, I'll be meeting other authors and readers in the genre and learning from them and their success stories.<br />
<br />
Part of the reason for this post is to squee about the news, but the other reason is that I feel it's important to mention that <i>Honour Bound</i> was a risky book. Kate Cuthbert, my dream of an editor at Escape Publishing, is the one who suggested I expand the universe from <i>Lace & Lead</i>. Neither of us expected the expansion to result in this sprawling story that's turned into a new series.<br />
<br />
I know that at its core <i>Honour Bound</i> is a romance; all my stories are. When I think of conflict, of what people are willing to die or live for, love and hope are often at the top of that list. But <i>Honour Bound</i> also allowed me to explore my love of dystopian societies, history, religious ethics, and a darkness I'm beginning to understand is a strangely inherent shadow side of my normally optimistic self. This is the series I've always been dying to read, so (as per Toni Morrison's excellent advice) it was time to get off my butt and write it.<br />
<br />
Sunday's phone call just confirmed to me that there are others out there who are equally willing to take those risks and are searching for the same story as me. It makes the world a smaller, more beautiful place when that happens. Readers, thank you for your support and love of reading and fearlessness. You made this author's summer.<br />
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M.A. Granthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09376566536069885120noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1285982211281526304.post-86233391090529483122016-01-12T19:58:00.002-09:002016-01-12T19:58:41.950-09:00The Big Three-OhWell, it's official. I'm an adult.<br />
<br />
In age perhaps, but not in frame of mind. See, that's the beautiful thing about writing...It keeps you young.<br />
<br />
On a strange side note, last year I was convinced that I was turning thirty, not twenty-nine. I prepared all year for that moment. And then a few weeks before my birthday, I mentioned to my husband how I couldn't believe I was almost thirty. He kindly corrected me.<br />
<br />
This year I'm <i>actually</i> thirty. And while some small Peter Pan-esque part of me screams in terror at the relentless onslaught of years, most of me is able to sit back on the couch and relax because I've done pretty well so far.<br />
<br />
Loving family and friends. Fantastic marriage to a man I adore. Books published and slews of ideas bouncing around my head and Pinterest boards. A life I love to lead up here in Alaska.<br />
<br />
It's not the New York City loft apartment, single life, and best-seller's list life I'd imagined for myself at the age of 15 (nor is it the life of a single, sheepherder living in a tiny thatched-roof cottage in Ireland), but it's <i>my</i> life and it's damn good.<br />
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Best of all, I feel so grateful for the life God's granted me. That realization of how fortunate I am is the greatest present of all.M.A. Granthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09376566536069885120noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1285982211281526304.post-84679205447935598552015-12-27T23:04:00.001-09:002015-12-27T23:04:18.413-09:00From the ashesIt's been a hard past few months. Burnout on multiple fronts left me reeling and I'm only just starting to pull myself back together. Fortunately, the love and care of many incredible people has helped get me on my feet and put my head back where it needs to be ... my stories.<br />
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Yeah, if you thought I was going to say my other job, you'd be a smidge incorrect. But I'm finally accepting that it's okay to feel that way; it won't make me perform any worse to understand that I'm working toward a bigger goal.<br />
<br />
Speaking of which ... [insert poor segue to shameless self-promo <i>here</i>]<br />
<br />
<i>First </i>is coming out on January 15th!!! [unleash kazoo fanfare here]<br />
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This duology was a bit like Jekyll and Hyde. Dally and Cat's story came together easy-peasy-lemon-squeezy while Jake and Maya's ... did not.<br />
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Regardless, it's out in the world with ARC reviewers and I'm mostly thrilled that this strange little story is meeting with some kind comments and constructive criticism.<br />
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To celebrate my return to the land of the living writers, I've put together some of my favorite moments from the story into these little pics to share with all of you.<br />
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Thank you all for your support, even though I'm horrible at updating this blog, and know that I'm still getting those stories down.M.A. Granthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09376566536069885120noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1285982211281526304.post-76187544643009814902015-01-18T18:37:00.002-09:002015-01-18T18:37:25.854-09:00Welcome to The ClubIf you were to drive just south of Beaumont, Texas, you might be fortunate enough to pass through Karim. This city is in the throes of change. Its new growth radiates from old town Karim, where the legacy of its Italian founder is still alive to this day.<div>
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Hidden just off of Main Street, amidst the fountain of the central plaza and the art gallery which hosts the city's most prestigious events, stands an understated three-story building. At night, as the bars and pubs in the area become host to Karim's active nightlife, the antique gas lamps in front of this building will light, casting its corner of the street in shifting shadows. </div>
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A curious passerby would see nothing but shuttered windows and doors leading out to wrought-iron balconies, with no traces of light or music or sound escaping. The black door that occasionally opens to let in well-dressed guests is the maw separating the real world you and I inhabit from the reverie that lies within.</div>
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<h3 style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: large;">Welcome to The Club.</span></h3>
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-gpfTETi_hB0/VLxwJTZedNI/AAAAAAAAAWo/iicTXzozjvk/s1600/The%2BClub%2BLogo.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-gpfTETi_hB0/VLxwJTZedNI/AAAAAAAAAWo/iicTXzozjvk/s1600/The%2BClub%2BLogo.png" height="200" width="200" /></a></div>
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The indulgent bartenders and world-class musicians and DJs who grace The Club's first level are the envy of every other establishment within a hundred miles. But it's the secret of the other two levels that holds all of Karim rapt.</div>
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Whispers guess at what occurs upstairs in the private rooms of The Clubs elite members. Of the rooms where lurid fantasies play out, of the men and women who seek to find and give pleasure in its basest forms, of the world few are allowed to become a part of.</div>
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On the last Friday of every month, invitations are sent out to a choice few. They alone will step beyond the chain and make their way into the hidden heart of The Club.</div>
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And now their stories are yours to share.</div>
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* * * * * * *</div>
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A multi-author project, <a href="http://www.theclub.website/" target="_blank">The Club series</a> centers around the mysterious building and the men and women who are tied to it. </div>
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Nearly 30 authors, including M.A. Grant, Scarlett Dawn, Lexi Buchanan, Missy Johnson, Nicole Flockton, and S.E. Gilchrist, will be participating. A new Club story will launch each month, drawing you deeper into the world.</div>
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The first book in the series, <i>Just One Sip</i> by Scarlett Dawn, is <a href="http://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B00S101LKO/" target="_blank">now available</a>. </div>
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<blockquote class="tr_bq" style="text-align: center;">
<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-IV69Vnckywo/VLxy3o_YWWI/AAAAAAAAAW0/_HYDsHBRZT0/s1600/Just%2BOne%2BSip.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-IV69Vnckywo/VLxy3o_YWWI/AAAAAAAAAW0/_HYDsHBRZT0/s1600/Just%2BOne%2BSip.jpg" height="320" width="210" /></a><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: x-small;">New York Times and USA Today bestselling author, Scarlett Dawn, turns up the heat with two best friends, who were always meant for each other, in the first novella of The Club series, <i>Just One Sip</i>…</span></blockquote>
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<blockquote class="tr_bq" style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: x-small;">Lucy Plume knows Jet Mak is the man she wants to marry. Her thoughts have never wavered to another. Lucy knows all of Jet’s secrets, his family’s secrets, and doesn’t give a damn. He is her best friend, her lover, her confidant…her all. But can she finally find the courage to say yes?</span></blockquote>
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<blockquote class="tr_bq" style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: x-small;">Jet Mak knows Lucy Plume is the woman he wants to marry. He’s known since they were children. Lucy is the only woman who can make him smile and groan at the same time. She tests his patience beyond what most men would endure, but he doesn’t care. He wants her, and everyone knows it. If only Lucy would say yes…</span></blockquote>
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* * * * * * *</div>
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Come November, my novella <i>In the Shadows</i> will release.</div>
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-FQEFyE81Yss/VLx6wMnzVgI/AAAAAAAAAXE/q88HALJfYgM/s1600/In%2Bthe%2BShadows%2BCover.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-FQEFyE81Yss/VLx6wMnzVgI/AAAAAAAAAXE/q88HALJfYgM/s1600/In%2Bthe%2BShadows%2BCover.jpg" height="400" width="300" /></a></div>
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<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: x-small;">Award-winning author M.A. Grant continues the high-stakes stories of The Club with her novella <i>In the Shadows</i>... </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: x-small;">Former spec-ops member Ezekiel Harding returned home from his time as a POW to find his family destroyed. Adrift and with no real purpose for a man of his skill set, an employment opportunity at The Club, a private and high-end BDSM club in Karim, Texas, gives Zeke the stability he desperately needs.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: x-small;">Vivian Bennett isn't looking for love or lust, not when a cunning stalker puts her in the crosshairs. Even without an anonymous enemy, she's too busy as the owner of Divine Twins Bakery to take a second look at any man. That is, until Zeke walks into her shop. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: x-small;">Sparks fly, a killer draws closer, and Zeke will only have one chance to save the woman who's finally drawing him out of the shadows.</span></div>
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M.A. Granthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09376566536069885120noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1285982211281526304.post-40869748826454079382014-12-22T23:03:00.000-09:002014-12-22T23:03:10.647-09:00A Very Sinclair ChristmasMerry Christmas and happy holidays to you all! It's a busy time of year for everyone and my household is no exception. However, I was able to finish up a short little seasonal story about my Sinclair boys. After all, this is the first real Christmas they've had, so it was worthy of celebration. They (and I, of course) wish you all the best!<br />
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<a name='more'></a><br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<b>A Very Sinclair Christmas</b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“This is insane, brother,” Flynn complained as he squeezed
his way out of Connor’s truck.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The Fred Meyer’s parking lot was almost completely full.
Impatient shoppers zipped in and out of spaces on the iced pavement. Flynn
tensed, waiting for the crunch of metal against metal, but the only noise his
keen hearing picked up was of cheery conversation and the store’s doors sliding
open and closed.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“It’s two days until Christmas. What did you expect when you
decided to tag along?” Connor shot back, locking his truck and trudging toward
the store.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“She’s only a few months old,” Flynn said. “She won’t
remember any of this.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Connor pulled up short in the middle of the road and glared
at Flynn. “It’s not about whether <i>she</i>
remembers, you idiot. It’s about making sure we have pictures we can show her
when she’d old enough to remember.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
They followed another group of shoppers inside.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“What did Dana say about you doing this?” Flynn asked,
trying not to sneeze from the scented pine cones in the lobby. He grabbed a
cart and followed after Connor.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Connor muttered something that sounded suspiciously like, “What
she doesn’t know won’t hurt her,” and ignored his brother pointedly until they
fought their way through the crowd to the toy and infant sections. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The plastic cart handle cracked as Flynn squeezed down on
it, fighting his panic. He’d thought the parking lot was bad. But this...this
was a war-zone.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Wish me luck,” Connor said. “If I’m not out in five
minutes, make sure you get my body back to Dana.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“I’ll put a bow on it,” Flynn joked, refusing to acknowledge
the sweat on the back of his neck.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Connor flipped him off and charged into the melee. His
height gave him an advantage over the other, shorter people in the aisles, but
soon his form too was swallowed in the last rush of holiday shopping.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Flynn breathed a prayer and began counting.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
* * *
* *<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Christmas morning was cold, with thick, fluffy snowflakes
falling from the sky. Flynn and Evie stepped into Connor’s house to be greeted
by the scent of fresh coffee and warm cinnamon rolls. From her seat on the sofa
in the living room, Dana grinned and waved Grace’s hand.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Hi, Uncle Flynn! Merry Christmas, Aunt Evie!”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Flynn gave Dana a one-armed hug and scooped Grace from her
grip. His niece smiled at him, her hands waving as he nuzzled his face against
hers. Dana and Evie settled on the couch, watching him with amusement.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Where’s Owen?” Connor growled as he entered the room, fresh
mug of coffee in hand.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“No idea. Did you call him?”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Connor gave him a dour look. “What do you think, oh mighty
pack leader?”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
He passed his wife the coffee over the back of the couch.
Dana murmured her thanks and he bent in to kiss her. When the kiss began to
linger, Evie glanced at Flynn, her cheeks reddening.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Instinctively, his wolf began to rumble at the expression on
her face and he wondered if he had enough time to take her home before Owen
showed up—<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The front door opening ended that train of thought.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“I brought presents,” Owen called as he took off his boots
and coat. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Stepping through the archway into the living room, he held
up two large brown bags as proof. His cheeks and nose were flushed from the
cold, but he was moving with an ease Flynn hadn’t seen before. “Where do you
want me to put them?”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Under the tree is fine,” Dana said. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Owen added his packages there and stopped long enough to coo
over Grace before snagging a seat in one of the recliners.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Can I hold her?” he asked Flynn.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Ignoring his wolf’s protective streak, he handed her over.
Owen held her against his chest, tucking her head under his chin. He grinned
happily up at his brother. “She smells good.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“For now,” Connor said. He had two more mugs in hand. One
went to Evie and the other to Flynn.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Hey, you made it right,” Flynn remarked, surprised by his
brother’s attention to detail.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“It’s Christmas. Don’t get used to it,” Connor said before
making one last trip to the kitchen for Owen’s mug.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
They eventually got around to opening their gifts. It was
the first Christmas in Flynn’s memory that featured him and his brothers
sitting together without shedding blood. The first year he’d been able to enjoy
the lights twinkling on a <i>real </i>Christmas
tree. The first year he would be able to share a meal without fighting for the
larger pieces like his father had trained them to...<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Okay,” Evie was saying.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
He forced himself away from the thoughts of his past and
turned his attention back to his wife. God, he loved her. Would be lost without
her. The Magi had their star, but Evie was his.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Dana and I went in on something for all three of you,” Evie
continued. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Dana handed out the wrapped packages, trading Owen his gift
for Grace.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“The only rules are that we’re out of limits.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“And so is Grace,” Dana reminded, holding her daughter
protectively to her chest. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Hurt my kid and I’ll cut off your balls,” Connor said as he
shook his gift.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Owen nodded and eyed his gift with anticipation.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Evie practically sparkled from her excitement. “Ready? Open
them!”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
They ripped into their packages. The gift inside left Flynn sniggering
and tearing apart the cardboard. He loaded his foam dart gun and aimed at
Connor. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Dammit!” Connor swore as the suction cup tip hit him in the
ear.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Owen wasn’t far behind. His dart caught Flynn’s foot as he
scrambled for cover behind a chair. Soon, the sounds of darts shooting and men
laughing like children filled the house. Once the ammo ran out, they called a
truce and sat back down at the tree.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Flynn tossed Connor a package. He held out an arm for Grace.
Dana passed her over with a pout, but accepted the gift.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“What’s this?”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“I got it for Gracie,” Connor said, peppering his daughter’s
face with kisses.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Connor, she’s only a few months old.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Stop complaining and open the damn thing.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Dana sighed, but did as ordered. The wrapping paper fell
away and she glanced over the top of the box at him, a sweet smile curving her
lips. “<i>You </i>picked this out?”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Connor’s shoulders straightened and his chin went up. “Of
course. Can we set it up for her?”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“She may be too little still–”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“I’ll help,” Flynn offered.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Owen set his mug down and rose from his chair. “I can too.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
They set up the play-mat with no real problems. They lay
under the canopy, inspecting their handiwork.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“The owl’s pretty cool,” Owen commented, tapping the plush
figurine so it swung on its string.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“She’ll go for the mirror,” Flynn said. “Babies love
mirrors.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Says the guy who didn’t know how to hold his niece when she
was born,” Connor scoffed, sitting down beside them and looking it over.
Clutched in his arms, Grace appeared more concerned with smiling at her mother,
who was playing peek-a-boo.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“She’ll definitely go for the squeaker mouse. She’s got my
killer instincts,” Connor announced and gently laid his baby girl down under
the canopy.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Grace’s eyes crossed as she attempted to focus and her arms
and legs flailed.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“I knew it,” Flynn said when she glommed onto the mirror.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Freaking alpha,” Connor muttered as he lay down on his side
to watch his daughter playing. “Think you’re so smart.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
They lay there together in silence, watching the newest
Sinclair wriggle. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“You doing okay with all of this?” Owen asked Connor
quietly, tickling the bottom of Grace’s foot with a finger.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Depends on the day,” he said absently. His eyes crinkled
when his daughter grabbed his finger and dragged it toward her mouth. “But I love
her more than anything, so even the bad days are pretty good.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Flynn tousled her downy hair. “You deserve it.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“We all do. Now can we stop all this emotion crap and get
back to the gun fight?”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Outside?” Owen asked, jerking his head toward the backyard.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“No guns needed then,” Flynn replied with a grin. “Unless
you two aren’t up for a bit of wrestling.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The slate eyes that met his may have been the wolf’s, but
the smile was pure Connor. “You’re on, brother.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
He looked back at Evie and Dana, smile sharpening to pure,
lustful hunger. “You girls want a Christmas striptease?”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Nope,” Dana replied sweetly. “But loser is responsible for
doing today’s dishes.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Done,” Flynn agreed. He pressed a gentle kiss to his niece’s
forehead, watched his brothers do the same, and led them to the door. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The crisp air caught in his lungs, but he stretched and
stripped, slipping effortlessly into his wolf’s skin. He trotted toward the
edge of the woods and turned. To his left, a large black wolf with lolling tongue
and sardonic curl to his lips. To his right, a silver, black-tipped beast with
intelligent eyes and precise posture. Behind them on the deck, two beautiful
women, one cradling a happy baby in her arms.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
His pack. His brothers. Their mates and child. All alive and
well and together.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
It was a merry Christmas indeed.<o:p></o:p></div>
M.A. Granthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09376566536069885120noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1285982211281526304.post-49749435576457009892014-11-30T15:10:00.000-09:002014-11-30T16:12:22.068-09:00Doing something stupidEvery now and then, I convince the super realistic, boring, responsible part of me to do something crazy. Now, for some of you who read this, what I'm about to say won't sound insane at all. In fact, it will sound like something millions of people are doing around the world all the time.<br />
<br />
I just self-published my first book.<br />
<br />
Okay, so it's not even really a book. It's a short story. One that I wrote a long time ago in college when I way playing around with retelling some of my favorite tropes. But I love it and always have. Worse, I know there's no way to expand it into a full story without losing that fairy tale-esque feeling.<br />
<br />
Then a friend introduced me to the Kindle Short Reads. Finally, a place where flash fiction and short stories can get published and enjoyed by others.<br />
<br />
Cue the hyperventilation, the craziness of legally agreeing to sell my book on Amazon, and <i>voila</i>! My book is in the review process right now and will soon be available for digital shelves.<br />
<br />
Holy poop, it's a brave new world out there.<br />
<br />
<br />
* * * * *<br />
<br />
And here it is!!!<br />
<br />
<a href="http://smile.amazon.com/The-Three-Sisters-M-A-Grant-ebook/dp/B00QEIVZ24/">http://smile.amazon.com/The-Three-Sisters-M-A-Grant-ebook/dp/B00QEIVZ24/</a><br />
<br />
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-hKss65JyM7A/VHvASoRVupI/AAAAAAAAAWI/-VjSfVLoh3Y/s1600/The%2BThree%2BSisters%2BCover.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-hKss65JyM7A/VHvASoRVupI/AAAAAAAAAWI/-VjSfVLoh3Y/s1600/The%2BThree%2BSisters%2BCover.jpg" height="400" width="247" /></a></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; font-family: verdana, arial, helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small; text-align: start;">Set against the backdrop of an unseen war, this fantastical short story reimagining of "The Three Little Pigs" tells the story of three sisters. When unknown soldiers come to town, led by a wolf of a captain, the youngest sister is forced to decide what she values most: saving her greedy older sisters or bringing peace to a wounded man.</span></div>
<br />M.A. Granthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09376566536069885120noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1285982211281526304.post-80306416814225994032014-09-27T19:38:00.003-08:002014-09-27T19:38:46.814-08:00UpdatesHoly cow, it has been <i>forever</i> since I've been able to get on here! Life has been pretty crazy thanks to my other job (the non-writing one). However, I have some updates!<br />
<br />
<br />
<ul>
<li>I'm hard at work on the Lawmen series. These books take place in The Republic, the same galaxy <i>Lace & Lead</i> is set in. Right now I'm working with a five-book arc and I am so excited to introduce you all to the incredible cast of characters on First Lieutenant Alexander Cade's spec ops team. More importantly, these books have granted me the opportunity to delve into issues that matter deeply to me. The stories may not be light and fluffy, but sometimes the happiest endings occur after dark events. Once I have more news, I'll be able to provide more specific news.</li>
<li>My new adult novella I recently submitted is soon going to be joined with a companion novella. Both will focus on firsts: one heroine is losing her virginity for the first time, and the other is getting into a healthy, committed relationship for the first time. </li>
<li>I'm trying my hand at something new, a short erotic novel. I'm really falling in love with my hero of this one and am looking forward to trying my hand at something I've never delved into before. Those courses from RWA conference are going to pay off now in a big way!</li>
<li>I've also entered an incredible writing contest with a short contemporary new adult story titled <i>Winning</i>. I won't hear back on that one until October and regardless of whether or not I place, I've enjoyed getting the experience.</li>
</ul>
<br />
<br />
My writing life is busy, but life at home has been too. Our handsome little Loki has almost grown into his ears and will be one smart cookie. Fall has hit Alaska; the leaves are golden, the fireweed has gone to seed, and the air has a sharp bite to the cold now. My official guess is that we'll have our first snowfall within the next three weeks. You may hold me to that...<br />
<br />
So, there's the newest update. Once I have more info I can release, I'll be sure to do it here!M.A. Granthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09376566536069885120noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1285982211281526304.post-13288531147608766192014-08-02T11:40:00.000-08:002014-08-02T11:40:00.053-08:00RWA 2014 Debriefing<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-QzQZBnMLoPc/U9vtrooK10I/AAAAAAAAAUs/4Zi4JNAVm7Y/s1600/RWA+2014.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-QzQZBnMLoPc/U9vtrooK10I/AAAAAAAAAUs/4Zi4JNAVm7Y/s1600/RWA+2014.jpg" /></a></div>
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Okay, if you’re looking for a short blog post, skip this
one. I’m still reeling from the RWA Conference, but I promise it’s in the best
way possible. Every second of sensory overload was worth it. I will also warn
that my use of adjectives is—at best—repetitive and—at worse—something worse.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<h3 style="text-align: center;">
<b>Day 1...The Travel</b></h3>
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<br /></div>
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I left for the conference from Sacramento, California. On
the plane I met several people who were also going to the conference, including
Mary Tate Engels, who graciously allowed me to pick her brain about what to do
with a backlist and how to approach the conference. She and I hung out together
as we collected our luggage and were going to take the airport shuttle to the
hotels.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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Another woman was standing near the ticket booth and since
the man running it had stepped out, the three of us got into a conversation.
The newest lady asked if we all wanted to share a taxi to get there (cheaper
and much nicer than taking an hour on a loop of the major hotels). Since we
were about to become taxi buddies, we introduced ourselves. Turned out that
nice woman was Brenda Novak.<o:p></o:p></div>
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Cue fangirl moment #1.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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We all hopped into a taxi and discussed a ton of stuff in
our ten minute taxi ride. Brenda discussed more about the industry (I now will
be looking up ACX) and mentioned that one of her newest book series is set in
Alaska and she might have to pick my brain.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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Cue me handing over my business card with a personalized
note about emailing me for Alaska info while praying that she wouldn’t notice
how rabidly excited I had become to be of use.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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I reached my hotel. I updated my family and husband that I
was indeed alive and in San Antonio and that yes, it was much hotter than I was
prepared for. I got my room. I showered. (You probably didn’t need to know
that, but trust me, after <i>hours </i>on a plane, it was definitely one of those
treats I couldn’t deny myself.) Then I headed across the street to go find two
of my Harlequin forum buddies who were at the first-timers session (I got in too
late to make it).<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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Stepping into the lobby of the Marriot stunned me.
Literally. I stopped in my tracks and I’m sure all of the wonderful people
milling about in the lobby probably thought, “Huh. Why does she look like a
deer in the headlights and stop in the middle of the sliding glass door?
Doesn’t she know it will try to close on her?”<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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Noise. And bodies. And happy squeals of greetings that I
have now come to adore because it is one of the purest, most joyful sounds
here. Oh, and a line for Starbucks that was at least 40 people deep. <o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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I wandered upstairs, managed to check in and get a bag of
loot, and started to get myself to rights. While waiting for the session to get
out I was able to purchase my audio recordings of the full conference sessions
(totally going to be my driving to work audiobook for a while). I stopped at
the goody room and got more loot. Then I stood somewhere that I figured would
be obvious and waited. <o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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The session ended and out comes a flood of people. Again,
overwhelming. Then I hear the squeal and find Carol and Cheryl (a.k.a.
carolopal and CASpeakman from the boards). Cue hugging, gushing, and true
wonder at meeting them in the flesh. I was starving and hadn’t eaten anything
but a Rice Krispie treat lovingly made by my mother since 3:30 a.m., so Cheryl
(who lives in San Antonio) took us to <i>Dough</i>.
The food was incredible and it makes sense why it was featured on Food Network.
She also brought macarons from Bakery Lorraine. We ate and talked and talked
and talked and finally headed back to the hotels. <o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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I unpacked. I ironed my clothes. I scheduled out my days.
And I crashed <i>hard</i>.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
<h3 style="text-align: center;">
<b>Day 2…Let it begin…</b></h3>
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<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Met C & C in the lobby for breakfast at 7:30 a.m. after
getting a tea from the Starbucks. At this time, it was early enough to get in
line and not wait a long time. By the way, the ladies working there are
ah-mazing and fast and polite and should be tipped in gold bouillon. Just
saying.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
First session was “Bang! You’re Dead: Guns for Writers.” I’m
a nerd and take tons of notes at conferences. 9 pages later the session ended.
I thanked the presenter (Antoine de l’Espérance of Captive Unicorn
Publications) and headed to session 2. <o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Conquering High Concept” was equally fabulous. May Chen of
Avon Books and authors Sarah MacLean and Sophie Jordan were leading the
discussion. It was interactive, totally packed until people were spilling out
the doors, and I took 6 pages of notes. There were a lot of gems of wisdom in
this one. Here are my favorites:<o:p></o:p></div>
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</div>
<ul>
<li>“As a writer, you need to find the crazy and go for it.” -
Sophie Jordan (supported enthusiastically by May Chen)</li>
<li>“Never write from a place of fear.” -Sarah MacLean</li>
<li>“You’re always searching for the impossibility…and how can
it work out?” -Sophie Jordan</li>
<li>“Here’s how I describe the plot of a romance novel: shit
happens when two idiots fall in love.” -Sarah MacLean</li>
<li>“As a writer, at three-quarters of the way [in your book]
you should be asking, ‘How will they ever be together?’ and you have to trust
yourself to answer that.” -Sarah MacLean</li>
</ul>
<o:p></o:p><br />
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<o:p></o:p></div>
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<o:p></o:p></div>
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<o:p></o:p></div>
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<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The session was inspiring and energizing. It made me want to
go and write. Later that day I got a chance to thank Sarah for the
presentation. She was so kind and generous and I suffered from major fangirl
moment #2.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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I took a break, sat in the lounge and worked on my pitch a
bit. While there I met Anne Eliot (YA writer) and she worked with me on the
pitch for a while. Again, totally friendly and kind person. And we’d met in the
Starbucks line, so we got to talk for quite a while. <o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Cue lunch. Keynote speaker Sylvia Day. More bags of loot
waiting for me.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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I have to take a second to gush. Sylvia Day’s keynote speech
was one of the most inspiring I’d heard. She covered everything, from industry
to craft to personal joy. But it was the end of her speech that teared me up.
She said something I really needed to hear.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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Let me go off on a side tangent for a second. I’m not a
best-seller. I just want to write good books and have people enjoy them.
Sometimes in this industry, people tell you that that’s not enough. You have to
make it big. You have to have thousands of followers. You have to be a
best-seller. You have to tweet/blog/sell your soul at least twenty times a day to
get more engagement. (I must pause to give a <i>huge</i> shout out of ridiculous
gratitude for Kate Cuthbert at Escape Publishing for taking that risk on
me…I’ve been pimping Escape as much as I can here because I really feel like
I’ve made a dream connection on my first shot in the dark). </div>
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<br /></div>
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Okay, now for the bitter
truth. <o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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Despite realizing my dream of having my books published, I
have felt so inferior so often because I thought it was wrong that I just
wanted to write more good stories while saying, “Screw the rest of it.”<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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Sylvia Day’s keynote was perfect because she said this:<o:p></o:p></div>
<h4 style="text-align: center;">
“The only person who can make you real, make your books
real, is you.”</h4>
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<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-C3Daeo1gDZE/U9vwUUD5SrI/AAAAAAAAAVU/Fno5XnDhOeM/s1600/Slyvia+Day+Retweet.PNG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-C3Daeo1gDZE/U9vwUUD5SrI/AAAAAAAAAVU/Fno5XnDhOeM/s1600/Slyvia+Day+Retweet.PNG" height="320" width="212" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Le tweet</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I tweeted this quote because it so elegantly encapsulated
the issue I’ve been struggling with. And more than that, it validated that it
was okay for me to write just because I love it.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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By the way, this incredible lady actually responded to that
tweet. I favorited it. And I squealed. And I fangirled yet again. Dude, lots of
that going on here. More came when, on Day 3 I discovered she had retweeted my
quote and bunch of other people liked it. Holy cow. <o:p></o:p></div>
<br />
Getting ahead of myself
though…<br />
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<br /></div>
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Another great piece of advice she gave during her speech
was, <b>“You must ask yourself, ‘Am I afraid? Am I making the decision because I’m
scared?’ Then throw the fear away…We are only the best writer we can be at this
time. We can only get better.”</b><o:p></o:p></div>
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I walked out of that lunch feeling lighter and more inspired
than I have since I got my first acceptance letter. <o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
But that’s what this conference does. If you have great CP
partners like I do, it’s like throwing two thousand of them together and
releasing them on the world. (Love you Kari and JM! Someday we will meet and
storm the romance barricade together!) This conference surrounds you with
people who understand what you’re trying to do. They don’t look at you funny
when you talk about your characters as real people, because everyone here feels
the same way. You do not have to hide yourself here. It’s a miracle. It’s
freeing. <o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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I spent more time relaxing in the lounge and working on my
pitch. I talked to more people and had a great conversation about Anne Lamott’s
<i>Bird By Bird</i> with Diane Hester. <o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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I sojourned upstairs for “The Secret to Powerful Writing:
Activate, Activate, Activate,” led by Claire Cavanaugh and Robin Perini. I know
I’m running out of adjectives, so forgive me. It was nitty and gritty and again
left me chomping at the bit to get writing. I wrote out the opening scene of <i>The Wastes #2</i> there. Then Robin was even
nice enough to answer one of my specific questions after the session and helped
me tweak the scene to do what I needed it to. GAH! FANGIRL!!!!<o:p></o:p></div>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-PR-UzGU_qYQ/U9vwRBJVeGI/AAAAAAAAAVE/yKC3pRkzTTs/s1600/Cowboys.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-PR-UzGU_qYQ/U9vwRBJVeGI/AAAAAAAAAVE/yKC3pRkzTTs/s1600/Cowboys.JPG" height="200" width="150" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Carol and me visiting with Travis</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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Off to the “Celebrating Authors” Reception. </div>
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<br /></div>
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Lots of cowboys.
Lots of food and fun and more people to meet. Pictures and interviews that
might go up on Kindle Love Stories. Laughter. Blushing. Super cool.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Quick dinner at Denny’s for me since I seriously needed some
downtime and was hungry again. I get hungry a lot when I travel…Anyway, my
waitresses there were super friendly and very Texan and I adored them,
especially when they confirmed that they did have my favorite soda, Dr. Pepper.
Yeah, good people these Texans.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Back to the hotel for the Harlequin forums PJ party. I met
tons of people who I had only known by their online handle. I met Shirley
Hailstock (fangirling again) and she shared hilarious stories and beautiful
wisdom and made our table snort tea. “Queen Elizabeth was gay.” If you’re
laughing, you understand this inside joke and remember how we snorted our tea all
over our red velvet cupcakes. If you’re not laughing, you had to be there.
Sorry.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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Back to the hotel. Shower. Promise to work on pitch.
Exhaustion. Sleep. <o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
<h3 style="text-align: center;">
<b>Day 3 dawns</b></h3>
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<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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Wake up at 6 a.m. after a series of weird dreams involving
the sensation of losing my grip on a whirling metal object and flying off into
a void…Is there some kind of message there I’m missing? I once again practiced
curling my wild, frizzy, untamable-in-Texas-humidity hair with my flat iron (my
little sister is so proud I’ve finally learned to do this!) and headed across
the street where we had a buffet breakfast and presentation by Cindy Ratzlaff.
I left early to get in line for the Harlequin book signing.</div>
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-f3kCyvp7bt4/U9vwWSQqT7I/AAAAAAAAAVc/D9OAXqKWQws/s1600/RWA+HQN+Signing.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-f3kCyvp7bt4/U9vwWSQqT7I/AAAAAAAAAVc/D9OAXqKWQws/s1600/RWA+HQN+Signing.JPG" height="320" width="240" /></a></div>
<o:p></o:p><br />
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Totally worth it.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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Here’s the thing about the authors here. They’re kind.
They’re personable. They ask you questions and really are genuinely interested
in your response. I collected far too many books to take home because there was
no way I couldn’t stop by to gush over their work or learn about a new book or
series. I’ve given up counting my fangirl moments because there are too many.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Okay, that’s a lie. One more.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I came out of the Harlequin book signing and who is standing
there but Jackie Ashenden. I preorder her books religiously. If I could have a
writer spirit animal, it would be her because her heroes are dark and angsty
and so real it hurts to read their stories. I love them and she’s an
inspiration.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
After some awkward pseudo-stalking (she was so gracious and
didn’t act at all creeped out by my waiting to talk to her), we had a
conversation. And, unbidden, I became so emotional and so embarrassed about
being emotional because I had to thank her for writing those kind of heroes. Her
kindness encouraged me to ask the question I’ve been trying to find an answer
to.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Here’s the deal. I’ve been told by some people (not my
editors, not my trusted CPs, but others who shall remain nameless) that my
heroes are too dark, they’re too broken, and that they can’t work in romance.
People don’t want them. <o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I asked Jackie if that was true.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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She made a face somewhere between amusement and disbelief,
shook her head, and promised me with complete conviction that it’s not true.
That we need to be completely honest to our characters. If they’re dark, let
them run with it because an editor can always tone it down, but we can’t amp
that part of them up. That if we give in to those voices, we aren’t being true
to ourselves as writers and then what’s the point?<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I believe that God doesn’t let anything happen by accident.
The timing of meeting her was too perfect, her advice too poignant, and her
willingness to talk to a crazy fangirl too sweet and genuine for me to ever
believe that coincidence alone led me to be given that advice by one of my
favorite authors. When we doubt, signs are given that we need to trust that
truest spark of ourselves and breathe it back into an inferno.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I apologized for fangirling and headed to the Avon signing
where…MORE BOOKS!!! MORE AUTHORS!!! MORE FANGIRLING!!!<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Are you noticing a pattern yet?<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Had lunch with Carol and Cheryl, discussed our pitches, and
then Cheryl and I headed across the street early for our pitching appointments.
<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
This was my least favorite part of the day. Not because of
my pitch. It was incredible to meet with the agent I had an appointment with;
she was professional, answered my questions fully, and didn’t remind me of how
nervous I was to sit across from her and pitch a story that’s dear to my heart.
No matter how my submission to her goes, I feel honored that I made it that far
and appreciate the time she gave to me.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The volunteers organizing the pitch sessions were amazing.
So organized and efficient and funny and making what could have easily been a
dire situation involving palm sweat and nerve-induced vomiting into a peaceful
experience. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Several of the fellow writers I met during this sessions
were a joy to sit beside. They were passionate and dedicated.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
However, as with any meat market situation, there was an
element of cattiness in some of the other women waiting in the room. I realize
that I was in an unusual position. I love Escape and didn’t feel the need to
pitch to another publisher at this point in my career, so I only signed up for
an agent appointment. However, when appointments weren’t filled, the
opportunity would arise for women to jump into that open slot.<o:p></o:p></div>
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This is when I heard whispered conversations about how
unfair it was that some writers jumped over others for this opportunity. The
potential for tearing each other down was too great for some of the people in
the room and they seemed to enjoy complaining about the situation. <o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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Don’t get me wrong, this didn’t ruin the conference or the
pitching event for me. If anything, it reminded me that even in such a tightly
knit, supportive community as romance writers are, there are always people who
will focus on those “what-ifs” instead of the “what-nows.” The desire for
personal success is a risk of any creative art and it happened to show its
stripes at this point.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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Okay, back on target with this post…agent pitch went well
and I was very happy with the result. As was my family, who had been praying
for me all afternoon. <o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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After the pitching experience, I went to the session held by
Maisey Yates and Jackie Ashenden about “Protecting Your Joy.” This was the
ultimate pep talk for a yes-woman like me who often can’t escape that niggling
doubt that my publication is a fluke. And I walked out again feeling empowered
and ready to come back to my laptop and tackle my writing. <o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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I swear, if this conference has taught me anything, it has
taught me that I <i>love</i> writing. I cannot be happy without it in my life,
regardless of fame or publication or review ratings. I bring my own baggage to
the table, but as Maisey Yates said in the session, <b>“If something doesn’t add
to you more than it takes away from you, it’s not worth having it around you.”</b><o:p></o:p></div>
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Spent a little more time with Carol and Cheryl before I
headed off to prepare for the Harlequin authors party. To put it mildly, it was
a blast. I was in awe of all the great authors who were there…I mean, it
couldn’t be real that I was there too. It was my Cinderella moment.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-lrmY3qPmJ1g/U9vwGcNKEXI/AAAAAAAAAU8/2uHuOpaXMqw/s1600/Carina+SFR+Authors.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-lrmY3qPmJ1g/U9vwGcNKEXI/AAAAAAAAAU8/2uHuOpaXMqw/s1600/Carina+SFR+Authors.JPG" height="200" width="185" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Kelly Jensen and Jenn Burke...<br />
wicked awesome ladies!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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My fellow Escape Artist Nicole Flockton introduced me to
Kristina Knight, Jenn Burke, and Kelly Jensen. Jenn, Kelly, and I actually
ended up migrating to one of the outdoor balconies and talking about our SFR
(they just had a 5 book deal picked up by Carina and I cannot wait to read
it!), video games, writing process, asshole heroes, strong heroines, magic,
demons, fantasy worlds, and everything under the sun. I am so grateful I got to
meet them at the party. Talking with them was effortless and I will celebrate every
new book release they have.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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I came back to my hotel to look over my loot and to pack
since I was due to leave the next morning. And, in the spirit of complete
honesty, I broke down.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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I called my husband and we talked for an hour about what my
next steps are as a writer. He let me sob to him about how much this has honed
my vision for my future. It was a painful, cathartic release borne of complete
overload and I needed it desperately.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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After all my experiences in those two days, I learned where
my key values lay as a writer. It’s nothing too fancy. I’m not worried about
fame or money. While validation would be nice at times, I don’t crave positive
reinforcement from others to remind myself that what I’m doing has merit. My
characters remind me of that themselves.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<h3 style="text-align: center;">
<b>Day 4...Bittersweet Symphony</b></h3>
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<br /></div>
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By the time Day 4 dawned (far too late for someone who
hadn’t gotten into bed until 2 a.m.), I felt at peace with where this
conference had led me. C & C met me at Denny’s where I was too tired and
nauseous to eat much, but we enjoyed the quiet and time we had to decompress.
We hit up three last book signings (one was for the Harlequin <i>5<sup>th</sup>
Avenue</i> series and was awesome) and headed to the last two sessions. I went to
“Practical Self-Defense for Writers and Their Characters,” led by K.M. Fawcett,
Cathy Tully, and Rayna Vause. The women running it were not only hilarious,
they ran the session as a completely interactive experience. We gave them
scenarios and they talked us through it, demonstrating the moves as they went.
They even read over one of my paragraphs from <i>The Wastes</i> and were able to give
me feedback on it to ensure it read smoothly and accurately. The session
definitely inspired me to get those scenes right when I’m putting them on the
page, but also to take a self-defense course in my life because of how
unfrightening they made it.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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C & C & I met up for my last session of the day; we
wanted to take one together and were all interested in this one. That’s how we
ended up sitting in “How to Write Hot Sex” with Christine d’Abo, Delphine
Dryden, Kate Douglas, and Shoshanna Evers. Exhaustion was creeping in, but I
took a lot of notes and will be able to listen to the recordings later and take
it in. It was a hilarious, honest panel and gave me some good advice about what
to look for when revising those scenes.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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Sadly, after that session ended, it was time to head to the
airport. I wished Carol goodbye and was heading down to the lobby to meet
Cheryl (who kindly offered to drive me to the airport) when I met Maisey
Yates’s mother in the elevator. It was funny since I didn’t know who she was,
but it was a pleasure to talk with her about the conference and share how much
I enjoyed her daughter’s session. And like that, the conference was over.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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Cheryl and I hugged at the airport and I headed in to begin
my great northward migration. Even now, I’m typing this at my gate while waiting
to head home, although I know I won’t post it until I get some good sleep.<o:p></o:p></div>
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Sooooooo…<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
<h3 style="text-align: center;">
<b>Final Thoughts</b></h3>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Conference = life changing. Both on a personal level and
luggage level (I ended up with over 25 pounds of books to bring home…eek!).</div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Xdtr9HL3ZeI/U9vwSoRCTTI/AAAAAAAAAVM/q9lVzprNUY0/s1600/Loot.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Xdtr9HL3ZeI/U9vwSoRCTTI/AAAAAAAAAVM/q9lVzprNUY0/s1600/Loot.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Le loot</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<o:p></o:p><br />
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The time I’ve spent here is precious. <o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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So, dear readers (and dearest readers, if you’ve stuck
around to the end of this post), here is my solemn promise to you. <o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I will hone my craft to improve with each book. More
importantly, I will not write from a place of fear. I will put myself out there
and give you the most honest book I can produce.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
Thank you for helping me to achieve my dream. I will never
take that for granted. Much love to you all!<o:p></o:p></div>
M.A. Granthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09376566536069885120noreply@blogger.com13tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1285982211281526304.post-81897994315890293862014-07-24T20:06:00.000-08:002014-07-24T20:06:18.867-08:00Guest Author: Stefanie London<br />
<div style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-size: 13px;">
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">I was fortunate to meet Stefanie through the Harlequin forums and was not at all surprised when she landed a contract with the Harlequin KISS line. This lady knows how to <i>write</i>! Her debut novel <i>Only the Brave Try Ballet</i> is fantastic and I'm pleased as punch that she was able to stop by and share a bit about what being a writer means to her.</span></div>
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-QL3_hIyDbzc/U8yaNyk_WoI/AAAAAAAAAUU/8EnFuwnD2Qo/s1600/IMG_0449_2+-+sml.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-QL3_hIyDbzc/U8yaNyk_WoI/AAAAAAAAAUU/8EnFuwnD2Qo/s1600/IMG_0449_2+-+sml.jpg" height="320" width="213" /></a>I've always wanted to be a writer. It sounds so cliche, but it's true! I took as many English subjects in high school as were available, and I crammed a for English Lit subjects into my Bachelor of Business. I claim this was a move to protect my sanity from the accounting and economic subjects that were part of the core curriculum.</div>
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Writing a book is no easy task. It takes hours and hours of work, it eats into your social life and it keeps you awake into the wee hours of the morning. But writers have this drive that surpasses the need to keep a clean house or the need to get adequate sleep. </div>
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Here are five signs that you've got a writer's mind:</div>
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1. You constantly think 'what if'...' and follow the thread of thought until a scenario builds in your mind</div>
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2. You lay awake at night thinking about imaginary things</div>
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3. You listen in to conversations on the train/in the office kitchen/at cafes and make up histories for the people talking</div>
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4. You hear voices (and they don't tell you to kill people...or maybe they do?)</div>
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5. You get invested in characters (whether they're from TV, movies, books etc) and you wonder about them past the conclusion of the series/show/book. </div>
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If you've always wanted to write, if you've wondered why you imagine strange things, if you love telling stories then put pen to paper or fingers to keyboard. You never know where it might take you.</div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-weight: bold;"><span style="font-family: arial, helvetica, sans-serif;">Only The Brave Try Ballet:</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: arial, helvetica, sans-serif;">Step up, Grant Farley…not your typical ballet student!</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: arial, helvetica, sans-serif;">Football pro Grant Farley is nursing an injury and needs to get back into shape—fast. Ballet wouldn’t be his first or even his last choice, but he’s desperate. Enter tantalizingly prim teacher Jasmine Bell—one disapproving arch of her eyebrow and Grant knows he’ll enjoy getting her tutu in a flutter!</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: arial, helvetica, sans-serif;">But it’s not only Grant’s flexibility that Jasmine’s pushing to the limit! He knows she feels the heat between them, so why won’t she give in to it? Time to convince Jasmine that if she’s brave enough to dance en pointe she can certainly handle a fling with him!</span></span></div>
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</div>
<span style="font-family: arial, helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="color: black; font-weight: bold;">Purchase from:</span><span style="color: black;"> Amazon (</span><span style="color: black;"><a href="http://www.amazon.com/Only-Brave-Ballet-Stefanie-London-ebook/dp/B00I66GE0U" style="color: #1155cc;" target="_blank">US</a></span><span style="color: black;"> | </span><span style="color: black;"><a href="http://www.amazon.co.uk/Brave-Ballet-Mills-Modern-Tempted/dp/026391142X" style="color: #1155cc;" target="_blank">UK</a></span><span style="color: black;"> | </span><span style="color: black;"><a href="http://www.amazon.ca/Only-Brave-Ballet-Stefanie-London-ebook/dp/B00I66GE0U" style="color: #1155cc;" target="_blank">CA</a></span><span style="color: black;"> | </span><span style="color: black;"><a href="http://www.amazon.com/Mills-Boon-Only-Brave-Ballet-ebook/dp/B00KQCP1KQ/ref=sr_1_1?s=digital-text&ie=UTF8&qid=1401959071&sr=1-1&keywords=stefanie+london" style="color: #1155cc;" target="_blank">Aus</a></span><span style="color: black;">), Harlequin Mills & Boon (</span><span style="color: black;"><a href="http://www.harlequin.com/storeitem.html?iid=52754" style="color: #1155cc;" target="_blank">US</a></span><span style="color: black;"> | </span><span style="color: black;"><a href="http://www.millsandboon.co.uk/only-the-brave-try-ballet" style="color: #1155cc;" target="_blank">UK</a></span><span style="color: black;"> | </span><span style="color: black;"><a href="http://www.millsandboon.com.au/product/9781488713002" style="color: #1155cc;" target="_blank">Aus</a></span><span style="color: black;">)</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: arial, helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-weight: bold;"><span style="font-family: arial, helvetica, sans-serif;">Excerpt:</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: arial, helvetica, sans-serif;">‘Once more from the top.’</span></span></div>
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-eEdCRWMI1sE/U8yaMOhRSNI/AAAAAAAAAUM/TzUJQDx716k/s1600/ONLY+THE+BRAVE+TRY+BALLET+cover+med.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-eEdCRWMI1sE/U8yaMOhRSNI/AAAAAAAAAUM/TzUJQDx716k/s1600/ONLY+THE+BRAVE+TRY+BALLET+cover+med.jpg" height="320" width="202" /></a><span style="font-family: arial, helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="color: black;">As the music started he followed her lead, bending with his feet in first position. The teacher in her couldn’t ignore the fault of his technique</span><span style="color: black;">, </span><span style="color: black;">as he bent his hips moved out of alignment and his feet rolled inwards. She instinctively reached out to correct the error but retracted her hand when her brain kicked into gear.</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: arial, helvetica, sans-serif;">‘I don’t bite.’</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: arial, helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="color: black;">His wolfish grin seemed at odds with the promise of safety, but Jasmine wasn’t going to let some arrogant joker mess with her head. </span><span style="color: black; font-style: italic;">She</span><span style="color: black;">was the teacher; </span><span style="color: black; font-style: italic;">she</span><span style="color: black;"> was the one in charge here.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: arial, helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="color: black;">‘You need to keep your hips steady.’ She stepped forward and placed a hand on each hip. His muscles were tight and flame-hot beneath her palms. He bent down into </span><span style="color: black; font-style: italic;">plié</span><span style="color: black;"> once more and she guided him, ignoring the frisson of electricity that shot through her</span><span style="color: black;">.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: arial, helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="color: black;">‘</span><span style="color: black;">Make sure your core is pulled in. It will increase balance and stop you rocking forward.’</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: arial, helvetica, sans-serif;">‘Like this?’ He grabbed her hand and placed her palm against his stomach. She could feel the ripple of each muscle through his T-shirt. His sports tights moulded every curve of his muscle, every bulge…</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: arial, helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="color: black;">Jasmine gulped, her blood pounding as though she’d run a marathon. </span><span style="color: black; font-style: italic;">Get it together.</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: arial, helvetica, sans-serif;">‘Yes, like that.’ She withdrew her hand, the heat of him still burning her fingertips.</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: arial, helvetica, sans-serif;">She was going to strangle Elise, her soon to be former best friend, for roping her into this disaster waiting to happen. She was going to—</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: arial, helvetica, sans-serif;">‘Earth to Bun-Head.’ Grant waved a hand in front of her face, chuckling when she returned her focus to him. ‘I don’t see how this is helping my hamstring. Shouldn’t we be stretching or something? We need to speed up this flexibility thing. I’ve got an important game coming up.’</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: arial, helvetica, sans-serif;">He shook his leg and rubbed at the muscle.</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: arial, helvetica, sans-serif;">‘Flexibility is a slow process. You can’t turn up to one ballet lesson and expect to be a contortionist. It takes time.’</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: arial, helvetica, sans-serif;">‘I’d settle for being injury-free,’ he replied. ‘But if you want to show me how you can put your ankles behind your head then be my guest.’</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: arial, helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="color: black;">‘This is </span><span style="color: black; font-style: italic;">not</span><span style="color: black;"> Cirque du Soleil.’ Jasmine bit each word out through gritted teeth.</span></span></div>
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<br />
<span style="color: #741b47; font-family: georgia, serif;"><b><i>Stefanie London</i></b></span><br />
<div>
<span style="font-family: georgia, serif;">Sparkling, contemporary romances with a pinch of spice</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: georgia, serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: georgia, serif;"><a href="https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/21898343-only-the-brave-try-ballet" style="color: #1155cc;" target="_blank">ONLY THE BRAVE TRY BALLET (Harlequin KISS) - now available</a></span></div>
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M.A. Granthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09376566536069885120noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1285982211281526304.post-89847048886249517852014-07-07T00:02:00.000-08:002014-07-07T00:02:00.024-08:00Guest Author: JM Bray<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">I am a lucky gal. <i>Why?</i> you ask. Well, despite his crazy busy schedule celebrating the release of Mending the Shroud (the second in the Shroud trilogy), author JM Bray dropped in with me to chat about his books, his writing process, and the 1980s. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">Let the interview begin!</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /><br /><b>You've mentioned in the past that your inspiration sometimes comes from dreams. How often does this happen?</b><br /><br />Great question. Not as often as I’d like, and usually a ton come at the wrong time. Most often the dream ideas come when I’ve let a story idea stew for a while, and the pressure of it wanting out builds. Unfortunately, that usually happens while I’m working on another piece. I’ve finished the first draft of Shrouded (book three) and am editing a first pass so I can send it to critique partners. To stay focused, I don’t let myself write another story. Of course that’s exactly when the new novel starts waking me up with ideas via dreams. I’ll have about 4-5 day where it happens repeatedly, then nothing for a couple of weeks. It’s sort of an all or nothing kind of thing<br /><br /><br /><b>Speaking of all or nothing, you've been working on the novels from the Shroud trilogy with great diligence. Since it's set in a different time period and features fantastical elements, did you have to do any research? </b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">Gobs! </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><b>What kind? </b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">Whew...that could go a lot of ways. Here’s a few examples:</span><br />
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<li>Astronomical: I needed to know how often Jupiter aligned with the Pleiades constellation and was visible on moonless nights. That’s 11.8 years by the way.</li>
<li>Location: If someone were going to commit suicide from the Coronado Bridge in San Diego, what would they see? </li>
<li>Spiritual/Personal: How does someone in a same sex relationship, who also is a Christian, align their beliefs with the God of the Bible? I took a swing at a possibility, then interviewed a gay friend and let him read it. He loved the scene.</li>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /><br /><b>[<i>Interviewer's Random Note:</i> If you ever need to gather information about South California, you now know the expert. Seriously, this man knows a ton and has connections...]</b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><b>Okay, so you've earned your research badge...But you're not off the hook yet! In your books you're having to balance a number of characters, from strong heroes to kick-ass heroines. Since you've had to work with both, do you find the male or female perspective easier to write?</b> </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">Male.<br /><br /><br /><b>Why's that? </b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">As a guy, it fits the ‘write what you know” mantra. But I’ve run into interesting situations with this, because I write what I and other male friends would actually say or how we might react. However, readers are used to reading male perspectives written by females and what they believe men are thinking...the two are not necessarily the same. At times I’ve had to adjust the “actual” male perspective to meet the readers “expected” male perspective.<br /><br />I’d give examples, but the idea is to attract readers, not piss them off. Right?<br /><br /><br /><b>Right. And, those of you reading this, please note his willingness to compromise, a most valuable trait. </b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><b>Okay, JM, it's time for the hard questions now! If you could steal one author superpower from a famous writer, who would you steal from and what power would it be?</b><br /><br />The ability to pound out large amounts of quality words each day. My very best day writing, I hit 4k words, but usually it’s around 1K. To have the kinetic power of Steven King and write a seven hundred page manuscript in six months...Oh yeah.<br /><br /><br /><b>Favorite 80s movie quote...go!</b> <br /><br />Only one? There are so many good ones. Since I’m limited we have to go with the classic: “Hello! My name is Inigo Montoya! You killed my father! Prepare to die!”<br /><br /><br /><b>If you had an archnemesis, what would he or she be like? </b><br /><br />I’d love to say the Kurgan, from the movie the Highlander. Best villain ever! How can you not love a guy who rattles off lines like he does? Notice how self-controlled I am, not listing them. But actually, since I try to get along with everyone, my archenemies would probably be more like Sean Connery’s character, Juan Sánchez Villa-Lobos Ramírez, a friend who I knew I’d eventually have to defeat. <br /><br /><br /><b>Ouch! And while facing that enemy, what kind of battles would you two have? </b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">Sword fights that lasted for half an hour, so we’d have to take a break, have a drink and a laugh or two, then go back at it.<br /><br /><br /><b>Of course, you would win said battle. Excellent job answering in that speed round!</b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><b>Before we finish up here, let me pick your brain one last time. With book 2 of 3 complete and that final third story going through revisions and edits, have you thought about the projects that are sitting in your To Be Written pile?</b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><br />Two are currently waking me up. One is a time travel story, that involves the post office Dead Letter Department, a woman motorcycle racer in 1930, the election of FDR, Randolf Hearst plus a lot more. <br /><br />The second is about a guy who’s been alive for the past two thousand years, but isn’t a vampire. It starts in the first century near Jerusalem and includes chases on camel-back, sea battles, shipwrecks and sibyls.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><b>Thanks for taking time out of your busy schedule to stop by and chat, JM!</b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">If you have any other questions for JM Bray, feel free to ask here, or stop by his Twitter (<a href="https://twitter.com/JMBraybooks">@jmbraybooks</a>) or Facebook</span> (<a href="https://www.facebook.com/JMBray.books">https://www.facebook.com/JMBray.books</a>) account.</div>
M.A. Granthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09376566536069885120noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1285982211281526304.post-40349988077003417372014-07-05T05:00:00.000-08:002014-07-05T05:00:01.788-08:00Moon DanceEvery author I know has scenes that they eventually cut from the story for one reason or another. When I finished <i>Red Moon</i> and began work on <i>Blood Moon</i>, one of the scenes I left behind also happened to be one of my favorites: Flynn and Evie's wedding.<br />
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Fortunately, <i>Blood Moon</i>'s release and Escape Publishing's incredible support has granted me an opportunity for this short to see the light of day. If you pre-order <i>Blood Moon</i> during the month of July, I will be sending you an exclusive PDF copy of the short story <i>Moon Dance (The Sinclair Pack #1.5)</i>. Just direct message me through my <a href="https://www.facebook.com/MarionAudreyGrant">Facebook </a>page or my <a href="http://www.marionaudreygrant.com/#!contact/c1kcz">website</a>, including your order confirmation number and the email you'd like the story mailed to, and I will add you to the list. PDFs will be sent out July 25th; if you pre-order after that date, I will send you the PDF when I receive your information.<br />
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I can't wait to share this story with you and have you experience that special moment in Flynn and Evie's lives.<br />
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<i>Blood Moon</i> can be preordered at the following sites:<br />
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<a dataquery="#b82" href="https://itunes.apple.com/au/book/blood-moon/id895325968" style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: 0px 0px; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; border: 0px; cursor: pointer; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;" target="_blank"><span class="color_29" style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: 0px 0px; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; border: 0px; color: #a04a00; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: 0px 0px; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; border: 0px; font-weight: bold; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">iTunes</span></span></a></div>
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<a dataquery="#82z" href="http://www.amazon.com/Blood-Moon-Sinclair-Pack-Book-ebook/dp/B00LGDXI6S" style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: 0px 0px; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; border: 0px; cursor: pointer; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;" target="_blank"><span class="color_29" style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: 0px 0px; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; border: 0px; color: #a04a00; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: 0px 0px; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; border: 0px; font-weight: bold; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: 0px 0px; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; border: 0px; font-family: basic, sans-serif; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: 0px 0px; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; border: 0px; font-size: 14px; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">Amazon (Kindle)</span></span></span></span></a></h6>
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<a dataquery="#ygt" href="http://www.amazon.co.uk/Blood-Moon-Sinclair-Pack-Book-ebook/dp/B00LGDXI6S" style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: 0px 0px; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; border: 0px; cursor: pointer; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;" target="_blank"><span class="color_29" style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: 0px 0px; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; border: 0px; color: #a04a00; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: 0px 0px; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; border: 0px; font-weight: bold; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">Amazon.co.uk (Kindle)</span></span></a></div>
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<a dataquery="#1agf" href="http://www.amazon.com.au/Blood-Moon-Sinclair-Pack-Book-ebook/dp/B00LGDXI6S" style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: 0px 0px; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; border: 0px; cursor: pointer; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;" target="_blank"><span class="color_29" style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: 0px 0px; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; border: 0px; color: #a04a00; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: 0px 0px; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; border: 0px; font-weight: bold; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">Amazon.com.au (Kindle)</span></span></a></div>
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<span class="color_29" style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: 0px 0px; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; border: 0px; color: #a04a00; cursor: pointer; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: 0px 0px; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; border: 0px; font-weight: bold; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"><a dataquery="#kfy" href="http://store.kobobooks.com/en-US/ebook/blood-moon-48" style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: 0px 0px; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; border: 0px; cursor: pointer; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;" target="_blank">Kobo (read on Desktop, eReaders, Tablets, Kobo, Android and iPhone)</a></span></span></div>
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M.A. Granthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09376566536069885120noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1285982211281526304.post-5644865964589744572014-07-01T00:01:00.000-08:002014-07-01T00:01:00.537-08:00Release Day Celebration: Mending the Shroud<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhf362qFf05NiGhyphenhyphenXvZoCt6khGoLvrWtIgre5crF_KabtTW2TbSgzc0cqUiccZbxBXewvEGDtEByh0LOzmc_dkb2fZusZwSf5EPcwEC2KhEbL56P-9Cnrbmc-pN46KchJI-WuH9u-KMNVo/s1600/Trilogy+Logo+sm.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhf362qFf05NiGhyphenhyphenXvZoCt6khGoLvrWtIgre5crF_KabtTW2TbSgzc0cqUiccZbxBXewvEGDtEByh0LOzmc_dkb2fZusZwSf5EPcwEC2KhEbL56P-9Cnrbmc-pN46KchJI-WuH9u-KMNVo/s1600/Trilogy+Logo+sm.jpg" height="108" width="320" /></a><b><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The second in the fresh, exciting romantic fantasy Shroud trilogy takes up where </span><a href="http://www.escapepublishing.com.au/product/9780857990976" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Tearing the Shroud</a><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> leaves off – with the lives, the loves, and the mythical world beyond our own. </span></b><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">After accepting bodily possession and saving the world, Vincent thought his life would get easier. He thought wrong.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The Shroud may not have torn wide open, but it did tear a little, and the retribution for the failure is coming hard, fast, and directly at Vincent and the people he loves.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">His only hope is to once again accept possession from Coleman and do battle with the deformed, terrifying Kafla. But this time, he's not alone. Jule, the woman he loves and hopes to marry, is possessed as well, and together the four of them become a formidable team.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Together they hope to stave off the invasion and take the fight to the Realm, but only a supreme sacrifice can mend the Shroud and save both their lives and their worlds.</span><br />
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<a href="http://www.goodreads.com/book/show/22180310-mending-the-shroud" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Goodreads</a><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> - </span><a href="http://www.amazon.com/Mending-Shroud-Trilogy-JM-Bray-ebook/dp/B00KQ64YIW/ref=sr_1_1?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1402326666&sr=1-1&keywords=9780857991652" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Amazon</a><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> - </span><a href="http://www.amazon.com.au/Mending-Shroud-Trilogy-JM-Bray-ebook/dp/B00KQ64YIW/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1402326757&sr=8-1&keywords=9780857991652" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">AmazonAU</a><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> - </span><a href="https://itunes.apple.com/us/book/mending-the-shroud/id885272552?mt=11" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">iBooks</a><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> - B&N (coming soon!)</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8s6LHR0jjbYXxm9Ha2aIehM9dMvY36qqJuGaBA5Pu1zjIafoEEvXErKxrC_qyS6MTByp1BqzeSKoWsBkCtKP48H5634Ix6Iwj66k1g5ZwdvxGUbnFbWTZtUC2wGfTzxwSjY04MQR-tbk/s1600/IMG_6052+%2528E1%2529+copy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8s6LHR0jjbYXxm9Ha2aIehM9dMvY36qqJuGaBA5Pu1zjIafoEEvXErKxrC_qyS6MTByp1BqzeSKoWsBkCtKP48H5634Ix6Iwj66k1g5ZwdvxGUbnFbWTZtUC2wGfTzxwSjY04MQR-tbk/s1600/IMG_6052+%2528E1%2529+copy.jpg" height="200" width="187" /></a><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">J.M. Bray lives in Southern California with his college sweetheart and their two dogs. After a lifetime together, they are happier than the moment they met. When not writing or working his "day job", he loves to cook, play the guitar, and travel with his wife. Every chance he gets, he races an old Porsche named "Tuffy" at tracks in the southwest.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /><br /><span style="font-size: large;">Connect with JM</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Twitter: <a href="https://twitter.com/JMBraybooks">@jmbraybooks</a> <br />Email: <a href="mailto:jmbray@jmbray.com">jmbray@jmbray.com</a> <br />Website: <a href="http://www.jmbray.com/">www.jmbray.com</a> <br />Blog: <a href="http://blog.jmbray.com/">http://blog.jmbray.com</a> <br />Facebook Author Page: <a href="https://www.facebook.com/JMBray.books">https://www.facebook.com/JMBray.books</a> <br />Pinterest: <a href="http://www.pinterest.com/jmbraybooks/">http://www.pinterest.com/jmbraybooks/</a></span><br />
<br />M.A. Granthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09376566536069885120noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1285982211281526304.post-89713049178647150892014-06-13T08:00:00.000-08:002014-06-13T08:00:05.215-08:00Cover Reveal: Blood MoonIt's finally here. Final edits and proofreadings are done, the blurb is official, and the cover of <i>Blood Moon</i> made me cry when I got it.<br />
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This story was one of the hardest I've ever written. Several times I nearly gave up (props to my husband for telling me to sit my butt in the chair and finish it). But seeing the cover made all that pain worth it.<br />
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<b><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">The sequel to the critically acclaimed <i>Red Moon</i>, about a playboy werewolf, his shy roommate, the ties that bind, and a battle for true love.</span></b></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Dana Patterson never regretted the simplicity of her life in Alaska until she moved in with playboy Connor Sinclair. On the surface, Connor is the darkly seductive owner of Vegas’s hottest new casino. But in private, she gets to see a vulnerable side that no one else knows about—and the combination makes him a temptation she isn’t willing to resist any longer.<br /><br />After Connor openly sides with his brother Flynn in the battle against their unstable lycanthrope father, protecting family and friends becomes a necessity. Having Dana move in with him was the chivalrous decision; sharing his bed with her was not. Dana may think Connor’s everything she’s ever wanted, but his scars run deep, and he can’t bear the thought of hurting her.<br /><br />But war changes everything – and exposes dark secrets. As Rupert’s true plans come to light, Connor must decide whether he is truly the monster his father created, or the man Dana knows is hidden within the beast. </span></div>
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<b><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Available August 1st from Escape Publishing</span></b></div>
M.A. Granthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09376566536069885120noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1285982211281526304.post-63000994893448557792014-06-09T21:08:00.003-08:002014-06-09T21:08:44.125-08:00The Power of TouchI just wrote a scene in <i>The Wastes</i> where the hero and heroine have to make a difficult good-bye. My inner debate began when I had to decide how they'd each say goodbye to her as she left on a mission she may not come back from. And that led me to thinking about just how important those non-sexual touches can be, especially in a romance.<br />
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The value of contact can't be ignored, especially in tense emotional scenes. As Mad Dog, Jenks, Tane, and James make their goodbyes to Talia, each uses a different form of physical contact to get their point across. Cade, on the other hand, avoids that contact.<br />
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It's not just an arbitrary choice for me. I realize that some writers may choose to have this be the big moment when he makes a passionate overture or does something that will leave her memory lingering on his touch as she disappears into the night. But I believe that sometimes there is more power in restraint.<br />
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One of my all time favorite films is M. Night Shyamalan's <i>The Village</i>. One of the most beautiful and heartbreaking parts of the film is the attention drawn to touch, even the most platonic kind. Both Edward Walker and Lucius Hunt channel immense restraint to not touch those they love.<br />
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In Edward's case, it's an admirable decision since he is happily married and unwilling to risk the temptation which could be caused by touching another woman he cares for deeply.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEii9c15yl5XIfQoH1ObJXBIe3kuaMJFKBCz0EkG5wBq205xHsjFgZFwothSd2cf16XYBce1jfp9dCD-0lnXIHAwqATnQu4GNPfp5D_O7KkNs8jcKKkpBe4-bQMH5SxIodV5dePYIRcHFD8P/s1600/villagePDVD_014.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEii9c15yl5XIfQoH1ObJXBIe3kuaMJFKBCz0EkG5wBq205xHsjFgZFwothSd2cf16XYBce1jfp9dCD-0lnXIHAwqATnQu4GNPfp5D_O7KkNs8jcKKkpBe4-bQMH5SxIodV5dePYIRcHFD8P/s1600/villagePDVD_014.jpg" height="180" width="320" /></a></div>
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Lucius fights his feelings for Ivy for the first half of the film. The moment when their hands meet is one of the most emotional scenes from the entire film and I get goosebumps every time I watch it.<br />
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If you want to see a lovely, gentle romance play out on screen, watch this movie. Forget the suspense, forget the plot twists, watch it for the romance alone.<br />
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I hope that I can do Cade's emotions justice through use of this kind of restraint. I have to try.M.A. Granthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09376566536069885120noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1285982211281526304.post-40252881751551089962014-05-27T11:55:00.000-08:002014-05-27T11:55:07.136-08:00VloggingI can't lie, I prefer to be an introverted tech dinosaur. But I love books and talking about them, so the concept of a vlog is kind of appealing in that sense. As a result, here's my first attempt. Feel free to ask questions, make suggestions for books to mention in the next one, etc.<br />
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<iframe width="420" height="315" src="//www.youtube.com/embed/4zt4dcPqQAQ" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen></iframe>M.A. Granthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09376566536069885120noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1285982211281526304.post-75584075617675029172014-05-01T20:54:00.001-08:002014-05-25T11:32:56.101-08:00The Wastes teasersI have been hard at work on <i>The Wastes</i>, the prequel/companion novel to Nov. 2013 <i>Lace & Lead</i>, and I have to say, I am <u>in love</u> with this story. It's taken me completely by surprise (again).<br />
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I'm at 44K words and climbing, with no real end in sight. And I've been so happy with this that I'm gushing about it.<br />
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Hence my pretty pictures below...I figured it's time to share!<br />
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-qUNDAAyhpiU/U2MkyGVaDDI/AAAAAAAAAPs/CxnYSA_cLsc/s1600/Cade+and+Talia+Fate.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-qUNDAAyhpiU/U2MkyGVaDDI/AAAAAAAAAPs/CxnYSA_cLsc/s1600/Cade+and+Talia+Fate.jpg" height="398" width="400" /></a></div>
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-ClPBPw7TB1Y/U2Mk0UqPmqI/AAAAAAAAAP0/mTjg5AT2VtI/s1600/Copiataes+Rite+Teaser.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-ClPBPw7TB1Y/U2Mk0UqPmqI/AAAAAAAAAP0/mTjg5AT2VtI/s1600/Copiataes+Rite+Teaser.jpg" height="283" width="400" /></a></div>
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ncEEjrvbehQ/U2Mk0VcySMI/AAAAAAAAAP4/uOVwvZyJyj0/s1600/Lt.+Alexander+Cade+Snippet.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ncEEjrvbehQ/U2Mk0VcySMI/AAAAAAAAAP4/uOVwvZyJyj0/s1600/Lt.+Alexander+Cade+Snippet.jpg" height="400" width="328" /></a></div>
<br />M.A. Granthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09376566536069885120noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1285982211281526304.post-26876102324506058452014-04-07T00:01:00.000-08:002014-04-07T00:01:00.164-08:00Mending the Shroud Cover Reveal!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGe0gZgCdtWZiElNw5YM1nva97hhhxnzRU7xFWSQlvXY6KXate0SfVCQIj2tej2OhovOf4ZG63vCGxFztTa1t1xJ-gi5tY_KoTzUqYT0T7q4EVClh92YYUZG9QFD9fCBtECS8dM5w7M_0/s1600/MendingTheShroud_Final.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGe0gZgCdtWZiElNw5YM1nva97hhhxnzRU7xFWSQlvXY6KXate0SfVCQIj2tej2OhovOf4ZG63vCGxFztTa1t1xJ-gi5tY_KoTzUqYT0T7q4EVClh92YYUZG9QFD9fCBtECS8dM5w7M_0/s1600/MendingTheShroud_Final.jpg" height="640" width="418" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: x-large;">The</span><span style="font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: large;"> </span><span style="font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px;">exciting sequel to <a href="http://www.amazon.com/Tearing-The-Shroud-JM-Bray-ebook/dp/B00FB3MWYS/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1394487606&sr=8-1&keywords=tearing+the+shroud">Tearing the Shroud</a> is coming July 1, 2014 and here's the cover! Once again Escape Publishing did an amazing job on the artwork and tying the two books together visually. JM is hard at work on the third book, so keep a lookout for it.</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiaXRE4iGLDG9_f6LLKjLqWpnurJzzdaxjwhyphenhyphen0YWMh6aNBBGNrbtyR3XEie7kcfq3CAORmYf2mBty5FZ6sItvJyJfMYwdN-EOCWLTrl_VaoAh7OOExnyTECEwxte7WZpsof9l6eAJ5DbCU/s1600/Trilogy+Logo+2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiaXRE4iGLDG9_f6LLKjLqWpnurJzzdaxjwhyphenhyphen0YWMh6aNBBGNrbtyR3XEie7kcfq3CAORmYf2mBty5FZ6sItvJyJfMYwdN-EOCWLTrl_VaoAh7OOExnyTECEwxte7WZpsof9l6eAJ5DbCU/s1600/Trilogy+Logo+2.jpg" height="153" style="cursor: move;" width="320" /></a><span style="font-family: arial, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">When</span><span style="font-size: medium;"> you’ve learned to take possession in stride, love should be easy. Right? It might be if your life and the lives of people you loved weren’t threatened by an invasion of monsters.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: arial, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">Vincent</span><span style="font-size: medium;"> thought saving the world once was a challenge, he didn’t figure on retribution putting a price on his head. It means college takes a back seat again as he’s possessed by Coleman to fight a new battle with the Kafla. But this time he’s not alone, Jule, the woman he loves is also is possessed.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-size: x-large;">Together</span><span style="font-size: medium;"> they hope to stave off the invasion and take the fight to the Realm,</span></span><span style="font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px;"> where only a supreme sacrifice can Mend the Shroud and save their worlds.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-large;"><span style="font-family: arial, sans-serif;">About the </span><span style="font-family: arial, sans-serif;">Author</span></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6ZXwDX9VQLPDcpCRvNEFb7QJkf6Q3hlfG-jjTYCuFKgUXZEm7HJE3mkN8t3AgudHtIhGzTpstGL_gDkWXatbCtTj5N_t9FbaRInfEImpxA0Yrr1tFwWHcYabHF8QOTMBaQMtA29I7Rtk/s1600/IMG_6052+(E1).jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6ZXwDX9VQLPDcpCRvNEFb7QJkf6Q3hlfG-jjTYCuFKgUXZEm7HJE3mkN8t3AgudHtIhGzTpstGL_gDkWXatbCtTj5N_t9FbaRInfEImpxA0Yrr1tFwWHcYabHF8QOTMBaQMtA29I7Rtk/s1600/IMG_6052+(E1).jpg" height="200" width="187" /></a><span style="font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: medium;">J.M. Bray lives in Southern California with his college sweetheart and their two dogs. After a lifetime together, they are happier than the moment they met. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: medium;">When not writing or working his "day job", he loves to cook, play the guitar, and travel with his wife. Every chance he gets, he races an old Porsche named "Tuffy" at tracks in the southwest.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: medium;"><i style="font-family: 'Shadows Into Light Two', cursive; font-size: 18px; line-height: 1.6; text-align: right;"><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms, sans-serif; font-size: medium;"> </span></i><i style="font-family: 'times new roman', serif; font-size: xx-large; line-height: 1.6; text-align: right;"><a href="http://www.amazon.com/Tearing-The-Shroud-ebook/dp/B00FB3MWYS" target="_blank">Buy book one, Tearing the Shroud </a></i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: medium;"><span style="line-height: 22px;">Twitter: @jmbraybooks</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: medium; line-height: 22px;">Email:</span><span style="font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: medium; line-height: 22px;"> </span><a href="mailto:jmbray@jmbray.com" style="font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: large; line-height: 22px;">jmbray@jmbray.com</a></div>
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<span style="font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: medium; line-height: 22px;">Website:</span><span style="font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: medium; line-height: 22px;"> </span><a href="http://www.jmbray.com/" style="font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: large; line-height: 22px;">www.jmbray.com</a></div>
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<span style="font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: medium; line-height: 22px;">Blog: </span><a href="http://blog.jmbray.com/" style="font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: large;">http://blog.jmbray.com</a></div>
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<span style="font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: medium;">Facebook Author Page: </span><a href="https://www.facebook.com/JMBray.books" style="font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: large;">https://www.facebook.com/JMBray.books</a></div>
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<span style="font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: medium;">Pinterest: </span><a href="http://www.pinterest.com/jmbraybooks/" style="font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: large;">http://www.pinterest.com/jmbraybooks/</a></div>
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<br />M.A. Granthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09376566536069885120noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1285982211281526304.post-2271924966128554372014-03-29T16:25:00.005-08:002014-03-29T16:31:31.787-08:00Excerpt from "The Wastes"One of my current WIPs is the prequel/companion novel to <i>Lace & Lead</i>, the SFR novella that was released last November. For now, the working title of this full length novel is <i>The Wastes</i>, and it's a blast to write.<br />
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The story centers around Alexander Cade, a lieutenant with the Lawmen, and his small team of elite soldiers. When he was training to be an officer, Cade had freed a Northern Wastes labor camp from the rebel army; one of the prisoners was Natalia Volkova, Talia for short. Years later when Cade returns to the Wastes (the most dangerous and uncivilized part of the Republic) with his team, she's working as a Lawmen scout and the fascination between them grows into something much stronger.</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Inspiration for Cade</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Inspiration for Talia</td></tr>
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Yesterday on my Facebook page, I asked whether it was better to continue to write the story in order, a new method I've been trying to see if it increases my writing quality and quantity, or whether I should go ahead and write a fun scene that was out of order.</div>
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Comments instantly reminded me that life is too short to not get to the good stuff, which is why <i>this</i> snippet exists. Here's my out-of-order scene from <i>The Wastes</i> for your reading pleasure...</div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"> “She thinks I’m handsome–?” <br /><br /> Talia laughed. “No. She’s saying...she means...your strength...your–” She placed a hand on his chest. “Your soul...comes through your eyes.” She looked up, swallowed. “You have nice eyes.” She stepped back. “That’s what she means.” <br /><br /> “That’s what <i>she</i> means?” Cade asked, his lilt teasing out the emphasis. <br /><br /> “Of course.” <br /><br /> He took a step closer to her, eyes focused on her lips. “And what about you?” <br /><br /> “What about me, Lieutenant Cade?” <br /><br /> His eyes flicked up to hers. “Alex,” he ordered. <br /><br /> His command danced over her skin, sending out goosebumps that had nothing to do with the cool night breeze. Something shifted between them, and the teasing was gone now, leaving a crackling awareness in its wake. <br /><br /> “What did you say when you were answering her? I saw how you looked at me, Talia. I’m willing to feign indifference to a point, but not with that look–” <br /><br /> She didn't realize he’d been forcing her backward until her back hit the cold stone of the abandoned building. “What look?” she asked, confused. <br /><br /> “The one that says you think I could be a hero.” One hand went up against the wall near her face. He leaned into her, his face lowering so they were cheek to cheek. She closed her eyes and bit her lip, refusing to moan from the scent of sweat and sulfur and dirt that clung to him. <br /><br /> “I’m not a hero,” he whispered. “And I don’t want to be.” <br /><br /> “What do you want, Alex?” <br /><br /> “You.” <br /><br /> She tilted her head to see him better. She could see the lust warring with confusion in his eyes, knew that he was just as torn over this...<i>thing </i>that existed between them. “You said you can’t have me.” <br /><br /> “I can’t.” <br /><br /> “The boys–” <br /><br /> “I won’t put your safety over theirs.” <br /><br /> “I wouldn't ask you to.” <br /><br /> “Then tell me what you said to her.” <br /><br /> “It was private.” <br /><br /> “Not anymore.” <br /><br /> “She asked if you were passionate,” Talia said, wishing her cheeks weren't burning. <br /><br /> “Passionate?” <br /><br /> “When we’re...<i>together</i>...” <br /><br /> A lazy smile was spreading. “You’re telling me the tribal elder, who is well over eighty years old, asked you about your sex life?” <br /><br /> “She can still appreciate a handsome man. And women here aren't as prudish as your blue-bloods.” <br /><br /> “Agreed,” he murmured, his other hand playing with the slit of her skirt. “So what did you tell her?” <br /><br /> Talia shifted against the wall and she saw Cade’s jaw tighten as her hip accidentally brushed against his. <i>When had the night become so warm?</i> And why didn't she have more than a thin layer of fabric between her and his touch? <br /><br /> “I told her I didn't know yet.” <br /><br /> A dark, primal hunger sharpened his face and she could hear as his fingers curled and dug harder against the building stone. “<i>Yet</i>.” <br /><br /> “Yet,” she whispered, unable to look away from his mouth. <br /><br /> “But you told her we were together. Is that why no other women gave me a second glance tonight?” <br /><br /> She kept her chin up, refusing to feel embarrassed over the claim she’d put on him. “Perhaps.” <br /><br /> He chuckled at her answer. <br /><br /> “Are you angry that you weren't fawned over like Jenks or Tane?” <br /><br /> “Not at all. Just amused at how alike we are.” <br /><br /> “Oh, are we?” <br /><br /> “I wanted to kill that man who danced with you.” His tone was light, but she heard the steel beneath his words. “And if you’d left the celebration with him, I would have.” <br /><br /> “I wouldn't have left with him.” <br /><br /> “But you left with me.” <br /><br /> “Yes.” <br /><br /> “A poor decision, really.”</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">“Only if you keep talking.” <br /><br /> His expression became serious. “They can’t know.” <br /><br /> She knew who he meant. “They won’t.” <br /><br /> “If I have to choose, I’ll choose them.” <br /><br /> “Every time.” <br /><br /> They stared at each other for a moment and she murmured, “You can still walk away, Lieutenant.” <br /><br /> “Like hell,” he growled. And he was kissing her.</span></div>
M.A. Granthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09376566536069885120noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1285982211281526304.post-17355309050754048762014-03-08T19:12:00.001-09:002014-03-08T19:12:58.746-09:00Fear<i>This post isn't really for you. It's here to keep me honest when I look back in five years. But if you can help keep me honest, I welcome your reading it.</i><br />
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I will readily admit that the majority of the time, Twitter is a time suck. I've only recently discovered it and the flood of information that comes through it is both disconcerting and lovely due to its sheer volume. I mostly follow writerly friends (authors, readers, publishers, and others of our ilk), but have given in to get the occasional celebrity update as well. I guess I like realizing that they're normal people too.<br />
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Now, you may be wondering how this little fact relates in any way to the title of this blog post. Well, here's why:<br />
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As hard as it is, I'd like you to ignore the beautiful man (thank you, <a class="g-profile" href="https://plus.google.com/116226195118116469763" target="_blank">+Ian Somerhalder</a>) holding the sign and instead focus on what that second sign says.<br />
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<span style="color: #134f5c; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">What would you do if you weren't afraid?</span></h4>
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Most of us can instantly think of something flippant and funny and intelligent...you know, something that would catch another person's attention, lead him to see our rapier wit while still showing our slightly vulnerable side, and let us move on with our lives.<br />
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That didn't happen to me.<br />
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Maybe it's just the right question at the right time, but seeing that second sign left me with a strange tight feeling in my chest because I <i>knew</i> beyond a shadow of a doubt what I would do if I weren't so afraid.<br />
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My life is full of uncertainty right now.<br />
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My job - the one that doesn't involve my writing - is becoming increasingly difficult to navigate due to massive changes beyond my control. I cannot stress enough that I adore my career, but every day I see the profession being forced further and further away from its true goal.<br />
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I sent in a partial manuscript to an incredible editor that I never dreamed I'd ever be able to possibly write for.<br />
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I'm working on several stories at once, which I haven't done before, and I need them all to be good.<br />
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I am willing to admit that I'm a chronic worrier and someone who is always so surprised by success that I don't ever seem to believe it's truly repeatable, but when I saw that question on Ian Somerhalder's picture, something inside just seemed to click into place. Then I started reading the Twitter comments (again, something I never, ever do on celebrity messages) and was struck by the fact that no one really answered the question.<br />
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So I did.<br />
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It was stupid. No one will ever read my message, no one will care, but that damn question was its own challenge to me.<br />
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Worse, I answered honestly. I answered on a gut reaction, one of those horrendously primal urges that makes you type something and hit enter before you can take it back. (And, for the record, <i>yes</i>, I wish I could take it back.)<br />
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And the second I saw my comment posted, all I could think was, "Finally, a little bit of honesty with yourself."<br />
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The truth is that at this moment of my life, I'm terrified. It's not paralyzing, it's not crippling. It's a slow-spreading poison that eats out your heart and soul and I'm beginning to wonder if maybe I can stop its destruction by talking honestly about my fears for the first time in far too long.<br />
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So here we go...<br />
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<span style="color: #134f5c; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">My Top 3 Fears</span></div>
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<span style="color: #134f5c; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><b>Fear #1 - My writing successes are flukes.</b></span></blockquote>
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I have been beyond fortunate in terms of my writing. I am blessed to have been published and every day I remember that.<br />
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I still have nightmares that it's not real.<br />
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Actual nightmares. The kind where I wake up my husband and he mumbles something kind and curls back up around me to try to put me back to sleep.<br />
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Part of it is the competitive side of writing. Every time I hear about someone who's signed with an agent, sold another book, inked an audiobook deal, or gained another five hundred fans on Facebook, I worry that those things haven't happened to me because A) I haven't tried hard enough (my default answer to everything), or B) my writing sucks.<br />
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The other part of it is that I don't think I've figured out what I consider "success" is in terms of writing. It's something I need to work on and I need to do that without giving in to the pressure placed on me by outside sources. (I'm talking to you Twitter and Facebook ads declaring that in six weeks I can become the next Stephanie Meyer or EL James!)<br />
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<span style="color: #134f5c; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><b>Fear #2 - I will never learn to love that nerdy, slightly abrupt, learning-to-be-confident girl I was in high school.</b></span></blockquote>
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My mother is the perfect example of a woman who is outrageously talented, but never recognizes it in herself. My father and sisters are the same way, my grandmothers, aunts, uncles, cousins, and pretty much everyone I've ever been around my entire life.<br />
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They are talented, humble, and incredible.<br />
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In high school I was the abrasive girl who never dumbed herself down and had a small corps of friends who could stand me. In college I was dubbed "The Ice Queen" by others in my dorm because I stayed in my room to study and wasn't interested in anything but getting in, out, and on with my life.<br />
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Yeah, I'm <i>that</i> girl.<br />
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I've never been comfortable when complimented (a trait that my husband claims made my wooing much harder than it should have been). I turn funny colors and get tongue-tied.<br />
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I get so afraid of what people will say when they learn that I'm a total nerd that I try to avoid social situations. Now that I'm a writer (which is something I've dreamed of being my entire life...just ask my family and they'll confirm that statement) and am finally getting brave enough to mention that to others, that anxiety is even worse.<br />
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I know a lot of people think I'm rude because I don't open up immediately.<br />
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I don't mutually follow everyone on Twitter. I don't share all the Facebook promo posts that I probably should. I don't do everything those articles about how to become a popular writer tell you to do. I don't tell everyone how much I love them or beg for confirmations of my greatness. I don't gush.<br />
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Basically, I'm still that same uncomfortable, socially awkward girl I was in high school. I'm just older now.<br />
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I should love that girl because if I hadn't been her, I'd never be here. I'd never have developed the drive I have now, I'd never have decided that failure simply wasn't an option, and I'd never have found a way to respect myself, even if I do have moments when I pray I'll become someone - <i>anyone</i> - else.<br />
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Someday that girl deserves to know that I'm grateful to her for all she helped me become.<br />
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<span style="color: #134f5c; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><b>Fear #3 - I will let my husband down.</b></span></blockquote>
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My husband and I will have been together for 10 years this July (married for 6 of those years). He's my rock. For every moment of my flailing, he remains the steady hand that keeps me on track. He reads all my stories before I send them to anyone else. He reminds me to trust myself.<br />
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He imagines me in the best light possible and reminds me of that every day, even when I don't deserve it.<br />
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I'm terrified that I won't be able to provide him that same support. I don't want to become so focused on myself and what I want to try to accomplish that I overlook his dreams.<br />
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Don't get me wrong, I seriously doubt this will happen. We are on the same page about so much and we talk - genuinely talk - to each other every day. We're like 3D glasses...together we blend into something magical.<br />
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That was beyond cheesy, but it's true.<br />
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Even though I know I will never let myself let him down, I still fear that someday I will. It keeps me motivated to not take him for granted.<br />
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So...if you've survived this massive post, there you have it. My three greatest fears. These are the fears that I find so debilitating.<br />
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And, to answer Mr. Somerhalder's question, here are...<br />
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<span style="color: #134f5c; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><b>Things I Would Do If I Weren't So Afraid</b></span></div>
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1. <span style="color: #134f5c; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Pull out the screenplay I wrote in college and rework it.</span><br />
This is the story that made me want to become a writer for reals. I love it. It's dark and twisted and about love and demons and faith. Actual demons, not metaphorical. I've only shown it in its entirety to two people (my husband and my screenwriting professor). I think it could be something great, but it would hurt so badly to find out that it's useless.<br />
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2. <span style="color: #134f5c; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Query agents.</span><br />
Once again, I've only started trying to take myself seriously as a writer. The concept of asking an agent to judge me and determine if I'm a sound investment is one of the most frightening things I can imagine.<br />
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3. <span style="color: #134f5c; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Be comfortable singing in public.</span><br />
I sing. I like it. It makes me happy. I've sung on stage before, but I always shake and forget to lose myself in the music. I want to be able to lose myself in the music.<br />
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<br />M.A. Granthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09376566536069885120noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1285982211281526304.post-2605966646310622402014-02-24T00:01:00.000-09:002014-03-02T21:54:43.944-09:00My Writing Process blog hop<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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One of the most incredible things that comes from being an author is the opportunity to meet other artists who have just as much passion for the craft as you. I've been particularly blessed in getting to know both Escape Artists and writers through the Harlequin forums; we often talk about our writing process, so when the opportunity was presented for me to participate in an international blog hop discussing that topic, I jumped at the chance.<br />
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My fellow Escape Artist <a href="http://www.rosbaxterink.com/musings.php" target="_blank">Ros Baxter</a> (who writes incredibly funny and sexy stories) is the one who got me involved, so stop by and say hi to her if you get a chance.<br />
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Now, on to the questions!<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-VpoddPY1G6o/Uv_TwAPKFvI/AAAAAAAAAOY/F4PjqUW6bpQ/s1600/Lace+&+Lead+small+cover.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-VpoddPY1G6o/Uv_TwAPKFvI/AAAAAAAAAOY/F4PjqUW6bpQ/s1600/Lace+&+Lead+small+cover.jpg" height="200" width="130" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.escapepublishing.com.au/product/9780857990945">Now available from Escape Publishing</a></td></tr>
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<b>What am I working on?</b></h4>
I've definitely got my thumb in a lot of pies right now. I'm currently going through edits on my paranormal romance <i>Blood Moon</i> (releasing this summer with Escape Publishing), the sequel to <i><a href="http://www.escapepublishing.com.au/product/9780857990655" target="_blank">Red Moon</a></i>. I'm prepping another story tentatively titled <i>Melting the Ice Queen</i> for submission to Mills & Boon's Modern Tempted line after winning 2nd place in their #TemptedToWrite competition. My untitled SFR prequel to <i><a href="http://www.escapepublishing.com.au/product/9780857990945" target="_blank">Lace & Lead </a></i> is waist-deep in the drafting stage and I'm polishing an older manuscript called <i>A Muse of Fire</i> in preparation for the RWA conference in San Antonio this July. So...busy, busy, busy.<br />
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<b>How does my work differ from others of its genre?</b></h4>
I wish I had some intelligent, artsy answer to this one, but all I can honestly say is this: I <i>love</i> to torture my characters. I'm not positive if I should be proud of that and this little quirk drives my husband nuts; he's been begging me to write one, <i>just one </i>story where my characters are happy and have nice lives. But I'm a character-driven writer and I always come back to motivations. If a character is some super-alpha male, there must be some bad ass reason for that. It's all about balance, and the steeper the character arc, the more I demand that my characters have gone through hell to make it out the other side.<br />
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<b>Why do I write what I do?</b></h4>
I write because I can't <i>not</i> write. Growing up, I was the kid who had imaginary friends until I was 13. Then I only had imaginary friends in private because it was too embarrassing otherwise. I know a lot of other writers say it, but I actually hear voices in my head...not beautiful prose, but loud, jarring dialogue. It's like having a TV implanted in your brain and you're constantly scanning the channels so you only pick up on little snippets here and there. Sometimes those snippets catch your attention and <i>boom!</i> you have a story.<br />
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That's why I really don't have one genre I stick to. According to all sorts of articles, this is the cardinal sin of an author, but I don't really care. Again, I write for the characters and if they're werewolves, gamer nerds, or Regency-era dukes, so be it.<br />
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<b>How does your writing process work?</b></h4>
Kind of like vomiting. Gross image, yes, but accurate. Sometimes it's slow and I know its coming. Other times it's spontaneous and I'm left scrambling to contain it before I lose it completely. Regardless, it leaves me with random notes stuck all over everything, a cork board full of pictures of beautiful men (go Luke Evans and Collin Farrell!), and a Pinterest board that has the same pull seen exhibited by black holes. I wouldn't trade it for anything.<br />
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So there you go...now you know some of my deep, dark secrets. And even better, next week you can learn about the writing processes of three of my friends: Jan Meredith, Sarah Belle, and Sarah Daltry.<br />
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<u style="font-weight: bold;">Next Week:</u></h3>
<a href="http://janmeredith-rn.blogspot.com/">Jan Meredith</a> - Jan Meredith is a wife, mother, nurse, and published author with Entangled Publishing's Flaunt line. Her first novella <i>Playing Doctor</i> was released in November.<br />
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<a href="http://sarahbell4.wordpress.com/2014/03/10/my-writing-process-the-blog-tour/">Sarah Belle</a> - Sarah Belle writes 'Romagic Comedy' - romantic comedy with a dash of magic- think<i> Suddenly 30 </i>and<i> Drop Dead Diva</i>. Sarah's debut novel, <i>Hindsight</i> was released via Escape Publishing in 2013 and her second, <i>Deja Vu Lou</i> will be released later this year. She's also the mum of four young boys - hence the need for a magical escape at times!<br />
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<a href="http://sarahdaltry.com/2014/03/03/my-writing-process-blog-hop/" target="_blank">Sarah Daltry</a> - <span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; line-height: 18.200000762939453px;"><span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">Sarah Daltry writes about the regular people who populate our lives; the principle behind all her stories is that human beings are most interesting in the ways they interact with others. </span></span><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; line-height: 18.200000762939453px;">Sarah has spent most of her life in school, from her BA and MA in English and writing to teaching both at the high school and college level. She also loves studying art history and really anything because learning is fun. </span><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; line-height: 18.200000762939453px;">When Sarah isn't writing (see her website for a full list of titles), she tends to waste a lot of time checking Facebook for pictures of cats, shooting virtual zombies, and simply staring out the window.</span>M.A. Granthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09376566536069885120noreply@blogger.com2