Jenyfer Matthews

CANDACE SAMS (also writing as C. S. Chatterly) graduated from Texas A&M University with a BS in agriculture. She worked as a police officer with the State of Texas, the San Diego Police Department, and in a teaching capacity for the San Diego County Sheriff’s Department. Candace is the senior woman on the US Kung Fu Team (three black belts), and has been awarded the Medal of Putien and the Statue of Tao by the Chinese Martial Arts Confederation in Quanzhou, China. She holds international martial arts titles, and is an award-winning fiction author. Contact her through her web site.

Satyr
~ Sixth Book in the Tales of the Order series ~
by Candace Sams

Since his wife died, Soland Leigh’s daughter Autumn has been his whole world. Now, though, the time has come for him to step up and behave like the leader of the Satyrs that he is. The Order (of magical creatures) has acquired additional acreage next to their forest and it’s up to Soland to make the new land habitable.

The only person Kyndall Taylor trusts is Lady Anna, her elderly employer. But lately Anna’s behavior has been strange—she has gifted all her land to a strange woman called Shayla and replaced her staff with a steady stream of odd people from deep in the forest. One such character is Soland. When Kyndall is assigned to care for Autumn while Soland works on the land, the two adults find common ground—and a growing mutual attraction. But Soland is very secretive, too…and the Sorceress seems to have plans of her own

Satyr
Excerpt

As Kyndall kept walking and considering her fate, the sun slipped farther into the horizon. The sound of a car engine halted her progress. Two headlights could be seen coming up the drive. And she knew from past experience exactly to whom the old truck belonged.

“Oh great!” she muttered to herself. “Not them again.” The truck came to a shuttering halt about forty feet in front of her. Two fat, balding men got out of the cab and one who was even larger jumped out of the bed. Since it was far too late to hide in the brush or obscure herself some other way, Kyndall stood her ground. Bullies were no new experience. She’d dealt with them all her life.

“Well, well. Fancy seein’ the lovely Ms. Taylor out for a nice evenin’ walk. Eh, m’ lads?”

Kyndall pasted on her fiercest expression, one she’d been told could melt steel. “What do you want, Ed? The constable has told you to stay off Lady Dunnemore’s land.”

“We ain’t hurtin’ nothin’. Just out for a bit of a drive. Lady Dunnemore wouldn’t begrudge some folks from town a small thing like that, now would she?”

She knew the men were circling her. Ed and his brothers were nothing but cowards. But she also knew she could handle it. She’d dealt with much worse. “Something tells me you aren’t out for just a drive, Ed.”

“Ohhhh, you ‘ear that, m’ lads? Ms. Taylor don’t think we’re out drivin’.” Ed heard his brothers laugh and he continued. “It’s a shame a lovely piece like you ‘as got nothin’ better to do than look after an old woman and walk up and down roads at night. All by ‘erself.” He paused to move closer. “Now if you was to be more friendly like, m’ brothers and me could show you a better time than what you gets ‘ere.”

“Why do I doubt that?” Kyndall snorted and looked the men up and down in the most arrogant fashion she could muster. “You can’t even spell what you want to do.”

“Now don’t be that way, m’ pretty. Once we get better acquainted, you’d like me an’ my brothers right well. In fact, you could call it a bit o’ diplomacy. Brits and Americans. Good old chums, we are.” He moved very close to her, picked up a strand of long red-brown hair and stroked it with his thumb.

Kyndall immediately slapped his hand away with one hand, then backhanded him in the face with the other. “Touch me again, and I’ll break your ignorant neck.”

A sound from the back of the truck caught Kyndall’s attention. Something was thrashing about as though it was unused to being where it was. Before Ed could recover or move to block her way, Kyndall walked past him to the bed of the pickup. She threw a tarp off an old wire cage and looked inside.

“You son of a bitch!” She immediately opened the door to the cage and let the large hare inside jump from its confinement and straight to freedom. It ran into the nearby woods as fast as its paws could move it. Kyndall immediately stalked back to where Ed stood, still rubbing his face. His brothers were laughing uproariously at his expense. “Don’t you ever catch another animal on Dunnemore land again, or I’ll cut your balls off!” She pushed him backward to make her point then walked past him.

Angered by the threat to his masculinity and of being spoken to in such a way by a woman, Ed grabbed her arm as she started to walk away. He opened his mouth to speak, but never saw the very large fist hurtling toward the middle of his face. He landed on his back a good ten feet away, while his brothers backed up and scrambled to help their sibling off the ground.

Soland planted his feet firmly, ready for a counterattack. “You’re on land that doesn’t belong to you. And the woman has already told you once to keep your hands off her.” He ground his teeth, clenched his fists and hoped the idiot would get up and try something. It had been a long time since he’d fought anyone other than for sport. And beating an outsider would please him no end. Especially a poacher. As far as he was concerned, they were among the lowest life forms on Earth. His blood boiled at the thought of innocent animals being frightened and trapped by men who didn’t give a damn about the pain the creature would suffer before death. Poachers often used traps that were as cruel as anything he’d ever seen. But that was the way of outsiders.

Ed backed up, blood spewing from his injured nose. “You’ll ‘ear from us again,” he promised as his brothers hauled him toward the truck. “It ain’t over.”

Kyndall watched as the truck backed up, turned in the narrow road and headed away at a fast clip. She expelled a deep breath and turned to face her unwanted ally. “Thanks for the help, but I can take care of…” she stopped. Whatever she might have said floated off to infinity, never to be uttered. Before her was the largest man she’d ever seen in her life. At least six feet, six inches tall, he had shoulders as wide as the Hoover Dam, a narrow waist and long brown hair that had been tied back and fell over one shoulder to the middle of his chest. Looking him over quickly, she saw hands that could have easily broken Ed’s neck with a simple snap. His blue cambric work shirt, jeans and hiking boots hugged his massive body like sandwich wrap. There wasn’t much of his defined musculature that was left to the imagination. And nothing she could have imagined would have been more ruggedly, ungodly handsome.

Soland arched one brow and looked the tall, slender woman up and down. In the evening sunset, her eyes were an unholy aqua color. They almost glowed in the evening light. Straight auburn hair fell from a side part to just below her shoulders. She had a face very like the models he’d seen in magazine ads. Her high cheekbones, full lips and strikingly fair complexion were all flawless. It was a countenance that could turn a man inside out with desire. And she had guts but absolutely no sense. “You have a nice backhand, woman. But you might want to be careful when you choose to use it.”

Buy this Book!

To the Discerning Reader Who Has Sought Out This Website,

I believe you were expecting to read correspondence from Kate Dolan, who writes Regency romances as well as other books that are not worth mentioning.

However, while she was supposed to be preparing this message, she was actually on holiday, traveling to a region of the southern United States known as Louisiana, where she consumed entirely too many intoxicating beverages. This was a family affair from what I understand, though whether it is Kate who is a bad influence on her family or the other way around is not clear. In any event, I believe she is in no condition to be communicating with the public. Therefore, I have decided to step in and take her place.

My name is Helen Wright. I can see you raise an eyebrow, so do not deny it. I fully realize it is improper for a young lady to introduce herself to strangers, but I must admit that I don’t care a whit.

And to be honest, no one else will care, since I am never invited out. I believe most people are afraid of me because I care more for science than appearances. My friend Sophie is concerned that I might set my tucker aflame with one of my combustion experiments. Or so she says. I think she wants me to stop setting fires in my room because of the smell.

Or was it the smell of mold she objected to? I cannot remember. I keep telling her there is much to be learned, but I see from the disapproval in her eyes that she does not believe me.

She is reading this over my shoulder and says she does believe me and that it is the maids, and not her, who keeps throwing out my collection of moldy toast rinds.

I tell her to go back to writing to her sweetheart and she makes a face at me because the letter she writes is not to him but to her aunt. I believe she and her sweetheart are after having a row about something he either did or did not say to her satisfaction. The two of them are forever arguing over something but I suspect they will marry each other anyway, just to spite Sophie’s parents.

Oh, dear. Sophie’s mother has just come to inform us that we must leave off with our correspondence and tell our maids what to pack for a journey to the country.
It seems that Sophie was not quick enough with her letter, and her aunt has already ceased to be among those capable of reading letters.

That is not the reason we travel to the country, of course. But Mrs. Bayles had been waiting on her sister during her illness, and now that the esteemed aunt has finally died, after rehearsing for the occasion so many times, Mrs. Bayles is back home and ready to set out.

I believe we travel to the home of some friends that nobody seems to know very well to meet a suitor whom nobody knows at all. He’s a baronet, so the family wishes to attach one of their daughters to him before he changes his mind. I do not think Sophie will be too amenable…

________________

Helen Wright is the frustrated “bridesmaid” (friend or sister of the heroine and not likely to get her own book) of the Cerridwen Cotillion Regency romances A Certain Want of Reason and The Appearance of Impropriety by Kate Dolan. Although Helen has complained that she never gets to tell a story from her point of view, the author believes that Helen would not actually enjoy being a romance heroine, as it might involve kissing a young man.

The Appearance of Impropriety
by
Kate Dolan

Blurb

When Sophie Bayles inadvertently ruins a young man’s chance for employment, she sets out to find him a new position. Even though he doesn’t want her to.

With the war over, Lieutenant Heyward Elliott needs work. The job hunt is made no easier by the meddling of Sophie, who is all smiles and helpfulness one minute and snobby and argumentative the next. Complicating matters is her constant companion Helen, a strange young lady with a propensity to drop eggs on people in the name of science.

Sophie tries to do the right thing, but gets all the wrong results. Her attempts to find employment for Lieutenant Elliott produce one disaster after another, until he finally orders her never to help him again. But when he is arrested on false charges, she and Helen at last see a way to even the score, by clearing his name and reputation.

Unless they lose their own in the process…

The Appearance of Impropriety

Excerpt:

“Did that make it better or worse?” Helen asked as they settled back against the cold seats of the carriage. The glass in the lantern rattled and the flame of the candle jerked as the coach started forward.

“I’m sorry?” Sophie had no idea what she was talking about. Well, actually, if Helen was thinking about the same thing that she was, then she knew exactly what Helen was talking about. But Helen was never thinking the same thing as anyone else.

She leaned forward, her breath leaving a faint cloud that hung between them. “Your fascination with Lieutenant Elliott. Has it increased now or was the kiss sufficient to satisfy your curiosity?”

“Helen! Y-you said you would not tell anyone.”

“And so I will not. I am merely asking you a question.”

“Yes.”

“That response was not specific enough to sufficiently answer the question.”

“I know.”

Helen sat back in her seat with a sigh of exasperation, her lips drawn together in a thin line. “You must decide, Sophie. Either we help the lieutenant tonight or you put him from your mind and let him get on with his life without you.”

“You make it sound as if I have a negative effect on his life. Well, I suppose I have in the past, but I can improve things for him, I know I can.”

Helen shook her head. “I saw the look on his face when we left. You can make things much worse for him.”

“Oh no, it was nothing. A momentary indiscretion. The heat in the room.”

“It was freezing in there.”

“That’s just it. The lack of heat forced us to do something that we would not have otherwise… It was a momentary lapse of reason.”

“An experiment of sorts?”

“Exactly.”

“The man is not a toast rind, Sophie. Do not repeat that experiment again.”

Sophie squirmed in her seat. Why did Helen suddenly feel the need to defend the lieutenant? After all, it was her modesty that had been compromised.

Or was it? She could not really be certain who had moved first. He was so close and then it just happened, like a storm cloud spilling over with rain. Something that could not be stopped.

Why would it be so terrible to try it again? Helen always repeated her experiments numerous times. And she was fairly certain her own experiment had been much more enjoyable.

Was it indeed just an experiment? Or did she want to kiss the man because she was falling in love with him? And what good would it do to love a man should could never marry?

She started to squirm in her seat again. “Ahem. Helen, why did you say we must help the lieutenant tonight? Surely we will need time to plan what we intend to do.”

“So you’ve decided then?” Helen had a warning look in her eyes. “The lieutenant will not simply be an experiment for you? A charitable project?”

“Y-yes, of course.” The hairs on the back of her neck pricked up. What was Helen suggesting? That in order to help the man she needed to make some sort of commitment to him? Were not finding him employment or clearing his name of false charges admirable enough goals on their own? Any sort of personal commitment—the word “engagement” screamed through her mind—was really out of the question. It was inconceivable. His station was so far below hers that she had not even considered the matter.

Not seriously, anyway.

Buy This Book!

Though author Terry Odell claims to have fallen into writing by accident while writing fan fiction for the Highlander TV series, she’s certainly been taking her work seriously ever since! Terry has numerous romance short stories published by The Wild Rose Press in addition to three romantic suspense novels from Cerridwen Press. Hidden Fire, released May 8th, is a sequel to Finding Sarah.

If writing wasn’t enough, Terry’s also been busy entering contests. Finding Sarah is a second place winner of The Lories, Published Division, Romantic Suspense. What’s in a Name? is a finalist in the prestigious Daphne du Maurier contest, sponsored by the Kiss of Death chapter of RWA. It was also a finalist in the Gayle Wilson Award of Excellence contest.

When Danger Calls, is scheduled for release December 2008 from Five Star Expressions.

Terry makes her home in Orlando, Florida. To find out more about Terry visit her website her blog or her Redroom page.

Hidden Fire
Blurb

Returning from a stint as part of a task force on violent crime, Randy Detweiler is eager to reunite with Sarah Tucker in Pine Hills, but she’s having second thoughts about their relationship. Can she deal with a cop who gets called away at a moment’s notice, especially one who won’t talk about his job?

Their reunion is cut short when a body is discovered and rumors fly that it’s the work of a serial killer. To make matters worse, the Town Council might disband their police department, and Randy’s under added pressure to solve the murder before they take action. Forced to work under the radar, Randy struggles to balance work with a shaky relationship.

Sarah can’t cope with apparently meaning less to Randy than his job. Should she force him to choose between his job and the us she envisions for the two of them? All bets are off when Sarah herself becomes a suspect in Randy’s case. Before long, it’s more than their relationship that’s in danger.

From Romance Reviews Today:
HIDDEN FIRE is a fantastic story full of suspense and the delightful ups and downs of relationship negotiations. Readers will find Terry Odell’s book a wonderful escape from the daily grind of life. I found the characters’ insecurities and strengths to be loveably human. I give this book thumbs up for bathtub or beach reading.

When Randy and Sarah Return

True sequels featuring the same hero and heroine aren’t the norm in romance. I thought I’d better check with Randy and Sarah about appearing together again.

“Come in, Sarah,” I say, covering the mouthpiece of the phone with my hand. I motion her to the chairs opposite my desk. “I’ll be with you in a jiffy.”

She smiles, and I detect a hint of nervousness. She takes a seat in the chair closer to the wall, adjusts the collar of her pale blue blouse, then twists the strap of her shoulder bag.

I cut my call short, hang up and stack the array of papers on my desk into a semblance of order, finding a fresh notepad and pen. “Sorry, Sarah. Can I get you something while we wait for Randy? Coffee? Chamomile tea?”

She shakes her head and does more strap-twisting. “I’m fine. I hope this won’t take too long, though. Jennifer has to leave the shop by four today.” She checks her watch.

“Randy should be here shortly. He’s on duty today, right? I’m sure it’s hard for him to get away sometimes.”

Sarah lowers her gaze. “Yes.” Her voice is barely a whisper, but I hear a touch of resentment. Maybe more than a touch. I jot “Conflict” on my notepad, and underneath I write, “Job issues.”

Moments later, Sarah checks her watch again. She frowns. Before the silence becomes uncomfortable, there’s a knock on the door, which opens immediately. Randy Detweiler ambles in, all six-feet-six of him. Unlike Sarah, there’s nothing hesitant about the way he extends his hand, first to me, then to Sarah. He lowers himself into the empty chair. I take him in, still glad I didn’t go with the stereotype ‘drop dead gorgeous’ hero. Tall, lanky, with his hawk-beak nose and the scar through his eyebrow, he’s comfortable with himself as a man, not as a sex object. All cop, all business.

Sarah’s nervousness hasn’t abated. She’s on the pale side, her freckles standing out across her nose and cheeks. I wonder if it’s too soon after the ordeal I put her through to hit her with my new proposal. Too late for that, and she did agree to the meeting, so there’s still hope. However, she’s leaning back in her chair, away from both me and Randy. This might be a harder sell than I thought.

The initial pleasantries dispensed with, I bend forward, resting my hands on my desk. “No point in beating around the bush,” I say. “How do you two feel about a sequel to Finding Sarah?”

“Sounds good to me,” Randy says. He glances in Sarah’s direction. She avoids his eyes. Then he shoves a lock of hair away from his face. “She won’t be kidnapped in this book, will she? I can understand her reluctance to participate if she’s going to have to go through so much trauma again.”

It’s a book. Only trouble is interesting. I don’t voice my thoughts, however. “Of course not. Besides, readers wouldn’t tolerate using the same device in two books.”

“It’s not that.” Sarah twists her purse strap some more. I wonder if I noticed the habit in her earlier interviews or if it’s something she’s picked up from me. “I mean, the first book was a romance, so we’ve already done the basics. First meet, first kiss, the sex, that awful black moment and then we were together. Then, Starting Over was a spinoff with Colleen McDonald’s story. Isn’t that the way it’s supposed to work in romance novels? Wouldn’t another book featuring me and Randy break the rules?”

I try not to grimace. “First of all, they’re not rules. It’s reader expectation. And I think I’ve figured a way around it. That’s what I wanted to talk to you about.”

“You’re not going to give me amnesia or anything, are you?” Sarah asks. “Too cliché, I think.”

I chuckle. “No, nothing like that. But what do you think about a little separation?”

“How long?” Randy says immediately. His brown eyes with those enticing hazel flecks narrow.

“Not long,” I reply. “Six weeks. I thought you might like some Violent Crimes Task Force training. But it means you’ll have to go to San Francisco.”

Sarah chews her lip and twirls a strand of her hair. She’s let it grow out some. It seems brighter, more chestnut. Business must be picking up for her boutique. After a moment, she says, “That’s a distinct possibility.”

Randy doesn’t look as positive. “Six weeks. All in San Francisco?”

“Afraid so,” I say. “But think of the reunion scene. Could be intense. I thought we’d open the book with it.”

He nods, obviously suppressing a smile. “I could deal with that.” His cell rings, and he gives me an apologetic glance before he checks the display. “Sorry, I’ll have to take this call. It’s my Chief.”

“Not a problem,” I say. “I think we’ve covered the important points. I’ll be in touch when it’s time for our next interview.”

“It’s a plan.” He lifts the phone to his ear. “Detweiler.” He exits, still talking on the phone, every inch the cop.

Sarah’s lips compress to a thin line.

This could be perfect.

Sarah doesn’t get up. “This might be a bad idea,” she says. “Did you see what just happened?”

“What do you mean?”

“He’s in the middle of a meeting. He gets a call and disappears. It’s like I’m not even in the room. Not like we might have dinner plans. Not like I’m taking off from my job, too. And I can guarantee that when we see each other, he’ll say it was nothing.”

“Maybe I can fix that,” I say.

Her eyes light up, glistening their stone-blue color, the color that Randy found so compelling when he met her. “You can?” She sits up straighter, her hands free of the purse strap at last. “But nothing obvious, right? He’d know if he’s being manipulated.”

“Don’t worry about a thing. Of course, because your relationship was established in the previous book, there will be more emphasis on the mystery this time.”

“That would be great. I’ve always thought that I could be helpful, if only Randy would see me as a partner. Not a cop, but an equal. He still has that white knight thing you gave him in Finding Sarah.”

I jot more notes. “Point taken. But you have to agree that your character has to develop slowly. It’s commercial fiction. I’m going to have to throw stuff at the two of you.” Little does she know what.

“Can I take care of myself? Not get stuck somewhere waiting for Randy to come to the rescue?”

“No trouble at all, but I can’t make you a kick-ass heroine right off the bat. Readers won’t buy it.”

“I have no desire to be kick-ass. I’m no wimp, but I’m happy being Sarah, a boutique owner.”

“You proved that before. You know my style. Things start out with seemingly solvable situations, but they keep escalating. And since it’s categorized as a romance, you know you’ll both be alive and together at the end.” I wink. “But I have a few surprises for Randy.”

We exchange conspiratorial smiles. Sarah rises. “Thanks, Terry. I’ll look forward to the first draft.”

I don’t tell her it’s already written.

Read Ch.1 here!

Award-winning author Amy Corwin is an insatiable reader and a compulsive writer. She joined the Romance Writers of America at its inception and began writing for publication six years ago. Amy’s books have received numerous writing awards including first place in the 2006 Dixie First Chapter and first place in the 2003 Golden Rose contests. Her first historical novel, SMUGGLED ROSE, was published by Cerridwen Press in 2007 and received excellent reviews, including a 4-star review by “The Romantic Times”. Her second book, a historical romantic mystery, I BID ONE AMERICAN, was published by The Wild Rose Press in May 2008, and has garnered excellent reviews, including a perfect score of 5 books from Long and Short Reviews. She is currently working on her next historical romantic mystery featuring the Regency “detective” agency: Second Sons, Discreet Inquires.

Smuggled Rose

A cynical earl and a rose smuggler are an unlikely pair, particularly when the smuggler is a supposedly fallen woman the earl owes for saving his feckless brother’s life.

Nonetheless, Michael, the earl of Ramsgate, is determined to repay his family’s debt by presenting Margaret at Court — an action calculated to repair even the worst reputation. But Margaret has been burned before and is suspicious that Michael’s intentions aren’t entirely honorable…despite the certainty in her heart that she can trust him.

As the tension between them flares and Michael’s feelings for Margaret strain his self-control, an old enemy bent on revenge returns to challenge Michael’s iron determination…and threatens to take Margaret away from him forever.

* * * * *

Amy’s Tips for Good Characterization

There are hundreds of ways characterization can go wrong. I can’t cover everything, but here are a few tips garnered from editing my own and others’ manuscripts.

Let’s start with some good news. Nothing, and I mean nothing, is terminal. You can fix anything. You would be amazed at what a difference it makes to add a single sentence revealing a character’s motivations. Sometimes, that’s all that is necessary.

Since this is such a huge subject, I’m only going to talk about one major complaint: “I can’t get into or sympathize with your characters”

COMMON MISTAKES
• You didn’t reveal the character’s motivation
• Your first introduction to the character is through the eyes (POV) of another character
• You introduce the character at a bad moment
• Dominance

HOW TO FIX THEM

• You didn’t reveal the character’s motivation

If the reader doesn’t know the character’s goal and motivation, they will not bond with the character. The reader must feel she understands the character so she can be “one with the heroine.” Without that feeling, the reader may drop the book.

Problem: You want to hide motivation to surprise the reader later.

That’s fine, but you must give the heroine a substitute goal and motivation. And don’t assume her goal/motivation should be obvious to the reader by the character’s actions.

If the reader doesn’t understand what is initially driving the character to do what she is doing, then you’ve created the classic “unsympathetic” character that makes the editor complain, “I couldn’t get into your character”.

So how do you reveal goals and yet keep the surprise?

You don’t have to reveal the character’s entire motivation/goals/conflict on page one. You do need to reveal the character’s initial goal, some motivation, and a bit of conflict. Her starter goal isn’t necessarily her main goal.

Let’s say your heroine needs to find her sister’s murder and her motivation is to save her brother, accused of the murder. That’s the major goal/motivation for her. But, what if you don’t want the reader to know that in the beginning?

Reveal a starter goal by defining what she’s after now. This is a technique used a lot in suspense novels where the author wants to keep some mystery around the heroine. The starter goal allows the author to reveal a goal/motivation that is important enough to establish the reader’s bond with the heroine.

Example: In scene one, the heroine is talking to a private investigator. She’s trying to get his help to investigate a theft. Her motivation: she believes she doesn’t know how to investigate on her own, and the theft was a vase that had been in her family for years. So her initial, starter goal is to enlist this man’s assistance to find a thief. That’s the goal and motivation you need to make clear on page one to hook the reader.

Then you can slowly reveal the theft occurred at the time of the murder, and she believes the two are related. And further, if she can find the thief, she can prove her brother is innocent. And she can irritate/conflict with the detective because she did not reveal all of this when she hired him.

One last thing: you should do this for your secondary characters, too, or creating stock or cardboard secondary characters. Every character has to have motivation and goals, even if the goal is only a paycheck. And the more important those motivations/goals are to the character, the more depth your characters will have.

• Your first introduction to the character is through the eyes or POV of another character

This may seem odd or counter-intuitive. For this example, let’s say the book is a romance and your target audience is mostly women. You’ve introduced the hero and you’re in his POV when you introduce him to the heroine. Sometimes this can work, but it almost never works if your heroine is gorgeous, he sees her without any flaws, and he lusts after her immediately.

Here is the problem. Most readers can’t relate to perfection. And if they meet the heroine only from the hero’s perspective of her as the “pink of perfection,” how can the reader relate? The heroine is a beautiful, perfect woman like a plastic Barbie doll with no soul.

That’s why so many romances start in the heroine’s POV, so the reader can understand her fears, anxieties, and flaws. The reader can bond with her before discovering the woman is gorgeous. Or, the author can introduce the hero and heroine separately so the reader bonds with both characters before the two meet.

My preferred method is simpler: don’t make the heroine (or hero) completely perfect. Give your characters flaws, both mental and physical. Flaws make humans more human, real, and therefore more sympathetic.

When the hero first sees the heroine, he should see some flaw in addition to her beauty. And give him a flaw, too. Make her notice a trait she really dislikes in the hero, but even though she sees it, she’s still unable to resist her attraction to him…

Jennifer Crusie uses this method frequently and it works for her, e.g. “Welcome to Temptation”.
If you can’t or won’t add flaws, introduce the characters separately. Show the hero’s starter goals and motivation. Introduce your heroine and do the same. THEN introduce the two of them to each other after the reader already knows them and sympathizes with them.

• You introduce the character at a bad moment

Books always start at crises or changing point. However, avoid portraying your hero or heroine acting out-of-control. Do not make the mistake of thinking that showing your heroine spitting-tacks angry portrays her as a feisty woman who sticks up for herself.

It simply portrays her as an out-of-control bitch. The same is true for the hero.

You want both of them to be the ones in control while those all around are losing their grip. And then, you can gradually make your hero and heroine lose it, too—because by then, your reader will be “one with the heroine.” The reader will feel the agony of the heroine’s slow descent into the maelstrom of your novel.

Think of it this way: what is your reaction when you are in public and stumble upon a scene where a woman is yelling at another person? Do you like the woman or does it make you uncomfortable and wish the woman would get a grip?

Same problem.

You can, however, get away with it if you are Jennifer Crusie and are showing the heroine has a fabulous reason for being angry, and she’s got a sense of humor and is funny. But I have never read a Crusie where the heroine is angry from sentence one. The heroine tries to control it—her action sucks the reader in—and then the heroine loses it in an amusing way. And the humor offsets the anger.

If it is not funny, you are much better off showing some other character haranguing the hero or heroine. That character will be hated by the reader while your heroine is loved for showing self-control. This is good.

• Dominance

This can be less important for heroine, but really, you have to consider it for both hero and heroine. You don’t want either character to appear to be spineless.

Fathers are bad for heroes. If your hero has problems with his father (or worse, his mother), do not place the hero in an initial scene where the parent has the upper hand. Your hero will be perceived as weak and undeserving of hero status.

And avoid downtrodden heroines, unless she is deciding to revolt in chapter one. Now, that doesn’t mean you can’t show someone being mean to her, and her taking it. However, in the heroine’s head, she must recognize what is going on and plot to put an end to it. She must make a decision to show some spine.

That decision is her saving grace and will hook the reader’s sympathy.

Conclusion: There is obviously much more to this, but what I tried to cover are some of the techniques you can use to create characters the reader cannot ignore.
Good luck!

* * * * *

Blurb from I Bid One American

An American heiress nobody wants; a duke every woman desires; and a murder no one expects.

When Nathaniel, Duke of Peckham, meets Charlotte, he’s suspicious of her indifference. Too many women have sought—and failed—to catch him. Happily, Charlotte is more interested in dead pharaohs than English dukes and laughs at both him and his suspicions.

Her resolve crumbles, however, when a debutante seeking to entrap Nathaniel gets murdered. All too soon, his reputation as a misogynist makes him a suspect, and Charlotte impulsively comes to his aide.

Unfortunately, both are unaware that a highwayman interested in rich heiresses is following Charlotte. And that another debutante lies dead in Nathaniel’s carriage.

Some nights just don’t go as planned.

Please welcome Jean Hart Stewart!

Even though a freak accident killed my father when I was six (hit by a golf ball, of all crazy things), I’ve always regarded myself as a very lucky person. My wonderful mother went back to work as a school teacher. Since her hours were longer than mine, after school I was confined to the house until she returned home. As a result, I began to read early and steadily. She saw to it I had plenty of books from the library, and I read through everything she brought home. I knew by the age of ten I wanted to be a writer, preferably exactly like Jane Austen who I discovered early and read over and over. At twelve I wrote my first romance. It was doubtless dreadful and is fortunately lost! Still, my early isolation turned out to bless the rest of my life.

I found a group of other semi-nerds in high school, and always loved school. Ohio State University School of Journalism was a natural, and when I dated the editor of the student magazine he featured me as Campus Queen of the Month. Goes to prove who you know definitely does count! I didn’t even recognize the picture the professional photographer took of me.

The only importance of this long forgotten fact is my future husband’s brother knew me from a class we took together, saw the picture and asked his older brother Hugh to come along to meet me and put in a good word for him. Hugh (the handsome brother) was then a graduate assistant in physics. Not interested in anybody’s brother, (not very bright of me!) I sloughed off the request for several weeks, until one night when we arranged to meet at the library. When I saw Hugh and his brother walking down the long stone steps to me I knew in my heart I’d found, the real thing, love at first sight. I told the girl with me that same night I’d met the man I was going to marry. Two years later the brother was best man at our wedding!

Don’t let anybody tell you instant love doesn’t exist. We’ve had two children, two grandchildren, and a wonderful life together as Hugh’s job sent him to Europe a lot and often I went along. After that came my 20 year career as a real estate broker, lots of fun but I wouldn’t want to be in that field today. Too many sharks circling the waters.

(I can tell some good stories, though, like the client who didn’t keep his appointment because his jealous brother murdered him that morning!)

Then I started writing, and here I am six years later, a senior citizen with seven books accepted by Cerridwen Press in my Garland of Druid series, and an eighth on the way. I LOVE my Druids, each and everyone. Druid Triumphant, book six came out in June, with Druid Disdained is to be released in Sept. For more information about me or my books, visit my website.

Druid Triumphant
by
Jean Hart Stewart

Blurb

Adam is the last bachelor of the handsome Dellafield brothers. He’s had no trouble attracting women until the beautiful ballerina, Slaide Rivendell, insults him and then walks away. Furious, he determines to make her pay, but when he pursues her, he finds she has secrets that are destroying her and threatening her small niece. And keeping her from him. Yet Becca and Slaide need him, even if Slaide refuses to accept his help.

The villain menaces Slaide and Becca, capturing them both in spite of Adam’s protective measures. Now Adam must call on all his own and his Druid power to try to save them. Will he be in time, and will his powers be enough? And will Slaide reveal her secrets so he can fulfill their dream of love?

Excerpt

In the proper evening attire, with his thick crop of hair slicked down and shining, Adam paid his respects to his host and hostess, effortlessly charming them both. Then he propped himself against a wall until enough time had elapsed so he could leave. Still, guests at such a stuffy affair were always amusing, and he liked to people-watch.

His eyes roamed around the room, noting the buzz of conversations going on, the obvious flirtations and the usual meaningless exchanges he disliked.

Then he spotted her.

A shiver went down his spine, and he straightened his stance a little. Something about this girl, the aura shimmering around her head, a distinct blue haze enveloping her like a cloud, called to him to come to her side. The aura wasn’t quite as clear as he’d like it to be, but it radiated a beautiful color. He’d like to know what caused the haziness in her aura, though.

The willowy girl, tall and slender, stood talking to a young man leaning close to her and whispering in her ear. He looked pleading, she appeared stiffly uninterested. She moved away from him, looking back over her shoulder with a slight smile. A polished dismissal, but as definite a dismissal as Adam could imagine.

Before he had time to ponder her identity his hostess appeared. Adam was always slightly amused at how any member of his family seemed to be viewed as a trophy when one of them appeared at social functions. Adam turned to her with a smile, wondering how soon he’d have been there long enough for his departure to be unremarkable.

“I saw you eyeing our beautiful ballerina, Adam,” she gushed, tapping him on the shoulder. “Would you like to meet her?”

Quite suddenly Adam thought he would. Better than leaning against the wall all night. Something about the blonde’s air of absolute disdain intrigued him.

“So she’s a ballerina, my lady. That explains the unusual poise. Yes, introducing us would be most kind of you, ma’am.”

Lady Erickson, wife of the Swedish ambassador, smiled with just a touch of malice. “The beauty has spurned conversation with almost every other man in the room. Let’s see if she can resist the last of the elusive and handsome Dellafield bachelors.”

She grabbed his hand and escorted him across the room. She cut ahead to cross in the path of the blonde girl. Adam caught his breath. Her pale golden hair shone in the lights from the chandelier. Her cobalt eyes were fringed with extraordinary thick lashes. Those arresting eyes stared at him from regular features which were without a flaw. She held her head proudly on her slender neck, her gorgeous hair, pulled back almost too tightly from her beautiful face formed a coil at the nape of her tilted head. Much more suitable to her than the current piling of hair in a bunch on top. The size of the confined mass begged a man to rip it loose and admire the flow of gold as her hair tumbled. She was perfection. An icy perfection, with no hint of warmth in the depths of those stunning eyes.

Adam took a step toward her, once again admiring the lovely blue of the aura floating round her head. To his surprise, it glowed in a shade similar to his mother’s. Morgan’s never showed this frosty edging but the colors of their hovering auras were much alike.

At this short range his interest flared anew. Her skin looked absurdly soft. What would she taste like if an amorous man kissed his way down every inch of that exquisite flesh?

Lady Erickson came to a halt, looking triumphant although Adam didn’t want to think why.
“Slaide, this is Adam Dellafield, probably the most eligible bachelor in London and doubtless the most handsome. Adam, Slaide Rivendell, the newest star of the Royal Ballet. I’ll leave you two to get acquainted.”

She hurried off, quite obviously satisfied with herself. Adam winced. Just the kind of introduction he didn’t want.

Before Adam could speak Slaide Rivendell did. She looked at him for one second, her eyes the most brilliant blue he’d ever seen. A much deeper blue than her aura. After glancing at him, she half-turned as if to leave. She spoke almost mechanically, her voice devoid of any feeling but annoyance.
“You’re indeed handsome, but you doubtless know it, Mr. Dellafield. You don’t require my adulation.”

She turned to walk away, but Adam caught her arm and held her back.

“Have I met you before and offended you, Miss Rivendell? If so I apologize. Otherwise I find it hard to understand your rather offensive attitude. And I seriously doubt I’d forget meeting you.”

He allowed his voice to be edged with his resentment. This girl was lovely, but no amount of beauty could excuse such blatant rudeness.

An inner elegance seemed to take over as she flushed with embarrassment.

“I was perhaps too curt. But I’m so very tired of being presented to so-called eligible men like some box of chewable candy. You caught me just as I started to leave. My apologies, Mr. Dellafield. Good evening.”

Her voice showed not a trace of regret, nor did her apology sound deep-felt. As she turned to leave, she looked down at his hand still on her arm. She frowned just a little, brushed off his fingers with light grace, and glided away.

Buy This Book!

Please welcome author Marianne Stephens!

Born in Brooklyn, NY, I’ve lived in 6 different states, sometimes more than once. Married, I have 4 children and 4 grandsons. I taught school for a number of years (grades K-3, remedial reading and math for grades 1-6, and computers to preschoolers) but now write full-time.

As contemporary/paranormal romance author Marianne Stephens, I have 3 ebooks and one paperback available now. I run two monthly contests, one through my newsletter and one through The Romance Club. Check my website for details. I use another pen name, April Ash, for my upcoming erotic romance, Strip Poker For Two. Visit www.aprilash.net for details.

Gone to the Dogs
Blurb

KATIE O’HARA is a real-life version of Dorothy from the Wizard of Oz. As a suddenly jobless and newly jilted fiancée, she moves from New York City to Kansas. Her new job is to help the financially struggling Yipsey Dipsey Company market their new drink, Whoopsie, or the company will go bankrupt. However, others would rather see the company sold immediately.

Handsome fireman MIKE MARINO is out to win her heart. She wants no ties to Kansas as she isn’t planning to stay there. But, Katie finds it impossible to escape the lust-filled mutual attraction pulling them together for passionate kisses and frenzied lovemaking trysts while the situation at Yipsey Dipsey becomes increasingly complicated.

Throw in some “witches” and “flying monkeys” and that makes Katie determined to solve the mystery of who’s trying to keep her from doing her job. “Mishaps” begin to happen to her…some are minor but some escalate to deadly as she realizes someone’s out to kill her. Can she forget trying to prove she can do everything on her own and find happiness with Mike, someone willing to help?

Gone to the Dogs
by
Marianne Stephens

Excerpt

“Besides me, how many other people have you pissed off here already?” Mike asked his obnoxious question after speaking to the tow guy.

“Excuse me? What are you talking about?” I answered in an irritated tone. After waiting for an hour as they went over my tire and tried to find a problem with it my patience had worn thin.

“Well Miss Pleasing Personality, your tire was deliberately cut. I’d say someone is madder than hell at you.”

I opened my mouth but no words materialized. Gears churned in my head and I could only come to one conclusion. That realization made me shiver.

Mike took off his jacket and threw it around my shoulders. “You’re wet and freezing. Why the hell did you stand out in the rain? Do you wanna get sick?”

A flush rampaged up my cheeks and I hoped it wasn’t the beginning of a fever thanks to my stupidity and pride-induced rain dance. Stubborn I was. Cold and wet too.

“No, I…” How could I explain myself out of this? “Look. You’re right. I was wrong. Can we talk about something more important? Why do you think someone’s out to get me?”

Mike ran a hand through his hair then grabbed my elbow and walked me back to the chairs in the towing company’s office. “Sit. You look wobbly. Are you cold or did you nip one too many at that party?”

His attempt at offering caring concern flew out the window as soon as he threw in that suspicion about me drinking. What? Did he think I watched TV soaps and ate bonbons all day except when boozing the hours away?

I gritted my teeth. It would have had more impact if I weren’t chattering from the cold. “I’m gonna forget that last comment only because you’ve been so nice to Aunt Phoebe. No, Mr. Inquisition. I didn’t have anything to drink but punch.”

Mike moved his face within inches of mine. “Was it spiked?”

I breathed out a huff of air into his face. “Does it seem like I’ve been drinking anything but fruit punch?” My voice escalated the more he annoyed me.

“I guess not. Aunt Phoebe wouldn’t have let you drive if she thought you’d been drinking.”
“Humph. Thanks for the vote of confidence.”

He took the seat next to me. “Look. Someone cut that tire on purpose. I’m guessing right before you left. The air escaped pretty quickly from the hole.”

“Why should I believe you? I just got those tires and maybe there was a defect in that one.”
Mike sighed. “You don’t have to believe me. Just ask Tom,” he nodded to tow guy, “and he’ll explain why it has to be a deliberate act.”

I already suspected Lanny, Danny Sr. or Manny. How could I tell Mike? I didn’t want to involve him in my work. I vowed to handle this myself. Uneasiness shoved the cold and shaking from my body. Trickles of fear took their places.

“Thanks for your opinion. If Tom would just put another tire on for me and throw that one in the trunk of my car I’ll pay him and be on my way.” I got to my feet as a show of confidence. My jellied knees threatened to wobble but a major dose of resolve kept me standing straight and tall.

Mike leaned back in his seat apparently speechless for the first time since I’d met him. Amazing. All I had to do was stop arguing with him while giving him ammunition to fight with me and he shut up. Full of assurance and buoyed by my getting the upper hand I rewarded myself with a mental slap on the back. I’d won this round.

“How come you didn’t call that boyfriend of yours? What’s his name? Lawrence?”

I aimed a deadly stare at Mike. “Lanny. And he’s not my boyfriend.”

Mike smirked. “Oh. Sorry. How come you called me instead of him? Wasn’t he at the party?”

“What are we doing? Playing twenty questions?”

“And here I thought I’d help you figure out who’s out to get you by sorting through all the suspects.”

I flung myself back into the chair with the grace and sophistication of a squatting rhino. “So far Marino you’re the only one who fights with me all the time. Maybe you followed me to the party and cut the tire figuring I’d have to call you and you’d become Mr. Rescue Guy again. You know. Get on my good side because I’d be undyingly grateful for your help.” This little speech started out as a lecture and gained momentum the angrier I got and higher pitched my voice sounded.

In a low seductive tone he whispered, “There’s that one time we didn’t fight. Or have you forgotten already? I haven’t.”

My cheeks flamed. No, I hadn’t forgotten our major smooch and it kept parading through my head anytime I thought about him. It popped up in my brain constantly.

“Oh.” I turned on the charm and sugar-coated my speech. “You mean when I barfed on you. You’re right. We didn’t fight then.”

He started laughing and that minimized the dig I was trying to jab him with. Men were definitely from Mars.

“You know that’s not what I meant. I mean when you grabbed and kissed me. Surprised the hell out of me but I’m not complaining.” He wiggled his eyebrows and gave me a charming smile.

“Marino let’s get one thing straight. I did not kiss you. You grabbed me and kissed me. Why would I want to kiss you? I don’t even like you.”

I just have the hots for you. I hoped he noticed my glare and wished my pulse would stop racing. Where was that damned off button to switch my body from “horny” mode?

“Oh yeah? Tell me you didn’t enjoy this before.”

I had no time to react. Mike swooped me into his arms and gave me one of the most passionate kisses I’ve ever experienced. My eyes closed instinctively and my body molded itself to his. I not only kissed back but I let my tongue do a little dancing inside his mouth.

No control. All systems go. I was ready and more than willing to launch.

Buy This Book!

Please welcome author Sandra Cox!

A vegetarian and animal lover, Sandra lives with her husband, their dog and six cats in sunny North Carolina. Sandra is a member of Romance Writers of America and From the Heart Romance Writers. From The Heart Romance Writers has been the source of many treasured friendships.

Besides paranormal romance, Sandra also writes western romance, time-travel romance, young adult fantasy and non-fiction. When she’s not writing, you can probably find her out shopping!

Amulets – Boji Stones
By Sandra Cox

Maureen Sinclair, an independent kick ass woman, has a secret that could rock the modern world. More than just a charming antique set with unusual stones, the copper band she wears on her forearm is an ancient amulet forged by the gods with healing powers.

Her world is turned upside down by danger and betrayal when two men discover her secret, one a scholar, one a madman.

Now Maureen must fight for her very life and that of the man she loves while protecting the secret of the BOJI STONES.

Amulets – Rose Quartz
By Sandra Cox
The sequel to Boji Stones but may be read as a standalone story.

Isabella Tremaine’s credo is always look your best even when you’re running from the bad guys. Bella is the possessor of a primeval amulet empowered by the gods with creativity and beauty. And the spunky blonde has an abundance of both. Unfortunately a madman has discovered Bella’s secret and is determined to gain possession of the amulet, even if he must kill her to do so. It will take every wile in Bella’s formidable arsenal of tricks to outwit the megalomaniac who is after her.

At the same time as the madman is trying to steal her amulet, a ranch hand is trying to steal her heart. Bella is determined not only to stay alive but to keep her size-five stilettos footloose and fancy-free. Who will prove the great danger, the madman who wants her amulet or the ranch hand who wants her heart?

Amulets – Black Opal
By Sandra Cox
Book Three in the Amulets series but may be read as a standalone story.

Sabina Comte has two passions — singing and Adam Morelly. One has brought her fame and fortune. The other just might get her killed. Sabina possesses a power amulet given to her by the gods. Megalomaniac Victoria Price not only wants the amulet, she wants Adam as well. Killing Sabina would give her both.

If dealing with Victoria isn’t enough, Sabina discovers Adam’s uncle belongs to the mafia. She becomes increasingly suspicious of Adam when he keeps showing up right after someone’s tried to kill her. Sabina begins to wonder if Adam and his uncle know about her amulet and are after it too. But even doubt and suspicion cannot alter the growing attraction she has for Adam. When he is badly injured, Sabina puts her heart on the line and races to his side, determined to save him. She is about to find out if love will send her careening toward the celestial heavens or plant her six feet under.

Black Opal, the third in the Amulets series, was released May 22 by Cerridwen Press.
Here’s an excerpt.

Prologue

She stared intently at the computer screen. She’d broken the code and figured out her father’s password. It’d been easy. The warden said her father had written her name and the word amulets in his own blood before he died.

Scanning the screen, she read:

’Legend has it that out of all the mortals on earth five women found favor with the gods:
Sophia whose face was pitted and ravaged by pox,
Pelagia who had the body of a woman and the mind of a child,
Olympia a poor widow with children to feed,
Helen, who lost four of her children to the plague and begged the gods to spare her remaining child, and
Zoe, a young queen whose village was razed and plundered and, she herself taken as a slave.
Moved, the gods created five special amulets in the form of armbands for the women to wear on their forearms.
For Sophia an amulet forged with beauty and creativity.
For Pelagia an amulet forged with knowledge.
For Olympia an amulet forged with wealth.
For Helen an amulet forged with healing and
For Zoe a golden amulet, with a black opal at its center, forged with power.’

The air conditioning in the room was cold enough to leave goose bumps but Victoria Price didn’t notice. The black leather chair creaked in protest as she leaned back, her breath leaving her lungs in a hiss.

The pain in her hands made her glance down. They were fisted so tight the moon-shaped crescents in her palms, where her nails dug in, were filling with warm red blood.

Buy this Book!

moar funny pictures

My children’s school is having International Day next week. Do other schools do this? Basically it is a day where the children can go in dressed in their national dress and the mothers are strong armed into cooking lunch for all the children at school. I will be working the American stall handing out hot dogs and chocolate chip cookies among other things next Thursday. My contribution (other than my presence) will be Rice Krispie Treats.

But it is the national dress thing that has got my daughter in a tizzy. What to wear, what to wear?! There is no true national dress of America unless you count blue jeans and a t-shirt. I suggested her baseball jersey, jeans and baseball hat – which is pretty much her off-duty uniform anyway. That wasn’t good enough though because it wasn’t her idea.

Mommy’s (and Daddy’s) word wasn’t enough. She actually wanted to research America so she could get ideas (a ploy to get on the computer!)

As an alternative, I suggested she could dress in red, white and blue. She then went with jeans, a white Gap t-shirt and a red baseball hat – a decision which lasted a nanosecond I think. Then she announced she wanted to be a Canadian hunter, an outfit which consists of a Canada t-shirt printed with black bears and green and navy plaid flannel pants. Not sure how wearing her pajamas to school qualifies as a national dress, but whatever.

I am going away for a the weekend to visit some friends so I’ll have a break from listening to her obsess over it. I can’t wait! Every mommy needs a little downtime sometimes. There is only one month left of school and then they’ll be my shadows until the end of August. Gotta have some me-time while I can!

And as if the International day angst wasn’t enough, her grade is having a Greek day shortly as well. I have to construct her a Greek tunic and send in a bowl of olives. She’s not happy about the tunic as it is too close to a dress for her taste, nor am I since outside of Halloween I don’t relish costume design. And she did requested an olive wreath crown as well! I’m sure the teachers are getting a big laugh out of all this.

Don’t forget to stop by over the weekend. Author Sandra Cox will be here to give a taste of the books in her Amulet series.

Barbara Millerteaches in the Writing Popular Fiction graduate program at Seton Hill University and is Reference Librarian at Mount Pleasant, PA. Public Library. She has published historical romances (one of which was nominated for a RITA), mysteries, and young adult books and is now writing Regencies for Cerridwen Press.
She lives in a creepy old farmhouse with her husband, a pack of unruly dogs and cats, and guppies too numerous to count. You may email Barb at scribe@zoominternet.net.

Regency Writer Masters Deep POV But Can’t Give up Her Historical Fix

After writing seven Regency-set historicals for Harlequin as Laurel Ames and four for Pocket Books as Barbara Miler, I was in despair at the shrinking Regency market — especially since I wanted to try my hand at traditional Regencies.

Was it me who had caused Regency sales to drop off? I went back and reread all my historicals, looking for reassurance that my career was not a fluke and that I am leading students in the right direction.

It was a relief to discover that I still love my characters and frequently I surprised myself with dialogue or a plot twist I’d forgotten. You really start to wonder about your memory when you are twenty pages from the end of one of your own published books and wondering how you are going to wrap everything up.

The only unpleasant surprise was that I had not mastered point of view until I had been writing for seven years. Since I started back through the books in reverse order the change was reassuring. The early books are still good stories, but I used to change POV too frequently, give POVs to not just secondary characters but minor characters as well, including a couple or horses. I had even slipped into the dreaded omniscient POV.

Noting when I did these things leads me to some conclusions. Mastering deep POV is linked to mastering showing rather than telling and avoiding back story. Any time I summarized past history I was tempted to tell it and get it out of the way, floating from one POV to another as needed. Now I treat back story like old wine. I don’t get it out often and serve it in small doses only to readers who have gotten to know the characters already. This has the added advantage of making each book a mystery. The reader has to wonder about the character’s internal conflict and try to guess until I show them what makes the character tick.

Although it’s sometimes necessary to present an opening in omniscient POV and zoom down to the characters, this camera-like opening is easy to avoid if you have mastered deep POV. It’s best to start the book deep in the POV of one of the main characters and with a line of dialogue even if they are talking to themselves. This is natural if you know the characters really well before you start writing the opening.

I take my heroines on walks with me and work out their personalities and quirks as the dogs and I explore the farm. The heroes I take to bed with me, usually after they have fallen off a horse or been shot. That’s when they introspect on their past the best. A good dose of regret can hint at a inner conflict and make the man more mysterious than labeling him.

By the time I start the book I know both characters and can write a scene with valid emotion to it. It may not reveal the deepest problem the character has but a longstanding one is good. I also give my characters enough family to be provoking. If a character is a orphan they still need secondary characters to aggravate them.

And finally I have figured out how to eliminate the minor POVs by having the POV character guess the thoughts or emotions of the minor characters for the reader. Of course the POV character can also read in the other main characters’ faces and actions any nuance not delivered by dialogue.

Mastering deep POV means knowing when to go shallow as well. During action scenes or when the character is hiding something, you stay in shallow POV. It provides a contrast to those plunges into deep POV when the reader can really empathize with your character. Cerridwen came to my rescue by publishing Music Master last October and now Two Hearts in April. Of course I publish in other genres, including a series of cozy mysteries, a middle grade series and a paranormal that still freaks me out. (Cerridwen will also publish Eye Walker, the paranormal detective series no one wanted to look at. But the Regency is my home. I don’t know if it’s the language, the clothes or the horses. I just feel like I fit in there.

E publishers both keep alive small niche markets and are willing to take chances on the bizarre or innovative. Most of the recent trends have come out of the e-publishing marketplace. The large publishing conglomerates are too ponderous to switch gears that fast.

Grace Montrose is a passionate auburn-haired beauty so in love with the theater that she does set design and costuming secretly at the Pantheon. Brandon White, Earl of Morewood, a bored aristocrat, writes plays he pays to produce at the Pantheon under the pen name William Marlowe. He is trying to create the perfect woman with words since he has never met her until he encounters Grace. Brand and Grace are both looking for friendship and intellectual stimulation but find far more in each other. Yet Brand is afraid to even mention marriage since Grace has been hurt in the past by managing men and unwanted offers. His heart has been bruised by fortune hunters as well. A murder at the Parthenon and a disaster backstage prompts them to sacrifice their reputations to save the play and bind their two broken hearts together forever.

Buy This Book!

I went swimming yesterday and on my way out of the door I grabbed a notebook and a pen. My mind will often start to compose paragraphs while I’m walking but by the time I get home again they have either vanished into the ether or I’ve lost my mood.

I arrived at the pool a few minutes early so I got out my notebook and started to jot down the first part of the synopsis for my current WIP. And once I started, I kept going. I wrote about half of it, went for my swim, then came out and wrote the rest. It’s rough, but I’m thrilled. I typed it up when I got home and it’s nearly three pages single spaced. With some polishing I think it might just work.

I’m in the process of planning my summer vacation. Only my vacation isn’t really an escape into a world of relaxation and pleasure. There is a lot of planning and aggravation that comes before I get to the good part – seeing family and friends. I’ve got my ticket purchased and now I have to book a couple of nights in a hotel near JFK on either end of my stay.

It’s not going well.

I don’t need anything fancy. Just a safe, clean place to take the children for a night, preferably some place with a restaurant on site or next door. Every time I think I’ve found something I see some review horror story. Does anyone have any recommendations for me? I’m all ears!

Don’t forget to drop by over the weekend. Historical romance author and writing instructor Barbara Miller is going to be here talking about the art of mastering POV (point of view).