On the third day of Christmas, your Geevie brings to you...

A favorite holiday song:

Another one from the "Love to Laugh" files, I defy anyone to remain stone-faced to the following tune. It is completely absurd with its juxtaposition of silly delivery of sad lyrics, and the listener in the background just sells it with contagious laughter you can't help but mimic. Plus it's Looney Tunes. What's not to love? (If you heard that in Daffy's voice, you're doubly awesome.)



A favorite holiday movie/show:

John Hughes was/is a personal hero of mine. I loved the way he blended humor and laughter with heart and soul. His movies were the forerunners to shows like "Modern Family" and "The Goldbergs." If comedy didn't intimidate me so much to write, this is the level of perfection I would aspire to as a storyteller. And it fits Christmas like a glove, which you'll find him not once but three times on my list. We'll start with the Griswolds.



A holiday recipe:

More cookies! Bake and share!

SUGAR COOKIES

A Christmas memory:

In 2005, becoming a published writer was still a dream waiting to be realized for me. My favorite elf, my husband Steven (whose birthday is today by the way,) wasn't very covert in his plan to professionally bind one of my manuscripts as a Christmas present. He insisted he needed a first draft to do it, which, as any writer will take you, isn't exactly the draft we want to immortalize. It's ridden with flaws that, when you revisit the material, will make you cringe... especially after years pass and you grow as a writer. But he was insistent and I finally relented. I knew what the heavy present was under the tree, and I hoped that I could muster the enthusiasm he wanted the minute I opened the gift.

What I couldn't have predicted was the powerful impact seeing my name in print for the first time would have on me. I wept shamelessly as I stared down at the book in my lap, physical proof of my lifelong dream. I have often said I wouldn't have have realized this dream without Steven... my Graham, my hero, my partner and my friend. His passion to make me happy is unparallelled, and this gift was proof positive of that. It's fitting that the content inside was imperfect, because that was how he found me. It was good enough, because *I* was good enough. And he made it beautiful in the same way he made me beautiful, warts and all. There could be no better gift than that.

The book of the day:

What else?

EXCERPT FROM MY IMMORTAL

The minute he walked in from the other room, clad in an elegant suit, his hair long and wild about his shoulders, the rest of the world seemed to fade away. What had been and what would be seemed insignificant to what was. All that mattered was they were there in that moment together. Adele had quickly learned from nearly losing Dani that the present was all anyone ever has. He approached, drinking her in his burning gaze. Her breath caught in her throat as he took her hand in his and brought it to his lips. She shivered though his skin was warm. “You look wonderful,” he murmured.

She shook her head. She was wearing jeans and an old ratty sweater. She didn’t even wear a speck of makeup. She was white as a ghost, making the circles under her eyes stand out even more. “You lie so effortlessly, Mr. Sterling,” she kidded.

He held a free hand to his chest. “On my honor. I wouldn’t lie about that.”

Her eyebrow cocked. “And what would you lie about?”

He just laughed. “Always the reporter.” He led her toward a beautifully set table. “Come. Let’s eat.”

He pulled out her chair and let her sit. He reached around her, so close she could feel the heat from his body, and took the silver dome from her plate. “I hope you like quail.”

“I love it,” she answered. “How did you know?”

He shrugged as he sat. “Call it a lucky hunch.” He uncovered his own meal. “I used to do quite a bit of hunting when I was younger.”

The memory seemed to pain him. “For her?” she asked quietly.

His eyes shot to hers. “How did you know?”

She shrugged. “Lucky hunch.” Thaddeus approached with a bottle of champagne. “What’s the occasion?”

Thaddeus popped the cork and filled her glass while consuming her with his eyes. It was almost tiresome how on the spot he made her feel.

Nicholas didn’t bother to answer as Thaddeus filled his glass. Their eyes met – a silent duel as Nicholas sent him from the room with nothing more than a look of disapproval.

Nicholas waited until Thaddeus had gone before holding his glass up to her. “That you finally answered my messages and joined me again.”

She held up her glass, unable to tear her eyes from him as she sipped the champagne. “How could I not reward your tenacity? It’s a quality I can appreciate.”

She proved her point as she relentlessly grilled him on his background over the course of their dinner. He answered every question calmly and directly. Every time he tried to turn the table to have her talk about herself, she would give him a vague answer and then meet it with more questions.

By the end of their meal, she knew when he had started Sterling International, how he’d built it from the ground up, acquiring other companies along the way, turning himself into a self-made millionaire through his world travels.

What she still didn’t know anything about was Nicholas the man.

“What are your parents like?” she asked, swirling the last of the champagne in her glass.

“Dead,” he answered simply. There was no pain, no mourning, just a simple statement of fact. “They died long before I enjoyed true success. A shame, but life is like that, isn’t it?”

He saddened her when he talked like that. This was clearly a man deadened by the weight of his losses. “And what about your love?” she queried softly.

There was a slight pause. “The same,” he finally answered. His eyes misted over as he looked at her. She could feel his sadness sweep across the table. He scooted his chair back and walked toward her, offering her a hand. “How about some fresh air?”

She nodded and allowed him to lead her onto the balcony that overlooked the city. “Have you ever heard of the red string of fate?” he asked as they leaned together along the stone railing. She shook her head. “There is an Eastern legend that says we are tied to significant people in our lives by a red string around our ankles. Destiny links people who are supposed to find each other, help each other, and even love each other, by this unbreakable cord. It knows no distance, no time, no circumstance. No matter what happens, this string will never break.” He glanced toward the sky. “Maybe I believe it because I have to, but I believe that red string will restore what was once stolen.” He glanced down at her upturned face. “Do you believe in destiny, Adele?”

“I never did,” she said softly as she lost herself in his eyes. “But life has a way of testing our beliefs, doesn’t it?”

He gave her a slow smile. “Indeed.” He reached out with his hand to brush her hair from her face as the wind danced around them. “Maybe it’s silly to believe in anything more than the here and now. All we really have for sure is this moment,” he added.

There was a question there, but Adele couldn’t even remember why she was supposed to turn away from it. In her heart she agreed, her life had been a series of wasted moments. She knew that the moment she had found Dani dying in the forest. Now that a much nicer moment was before her again, promising more than just the absolute loneliness she’d always known, she wondered if it was a moment worth seizing. This showed in her eyes. Like a current between them, Nicholas pulled her into his strong arms.

No words were needed as her body melted against him. All remaining doubts melted to nothingness as she wound her arms around his neck and met his kiss with equal passion. His mouth was warm as it covered her full, parted lips, capturing her soft sigh. Fire raced through her veins until she went up like a bottle rocket when he took full possession of her mouth. Her fingers clutched handfuls of hair as he lifted her to him, the force between them raw and electrifying. When he pulled away she could barely stand.

“I’ve wanted to do that since I first laid eyes on you,” he muttered into her hair.

Her head tilted back. “So what took you so long?”

He groaned as he bent for another scorching kiss.

You've read the blog, now ENTER THE GIVEAWAY!

a Rafflecopter giveaway

On the second day of Christmas, your Geevie brings to you...

A favorite holiday song:

Little known fact about me: I love 80s music. Well, now, anyway. Back in the 1980s, I preferred 70s "classic" rock to the flashier, many times cheesier 80s alternatives. At least that was what I told myself back then, as I tried to carve out this very elitist music snob identity for myself. Truth was, however, I lived by my radio. Most of my memories I can link back to a song or an artist of the era. This is especially true for Christmas music, and you'll see quite a few 80s holiday tunes over the next week. The 1980s took cheesy holiday music and made it cool, even for a pseudo-snob like me.

Plus my 80s holiday music featured long-haired rocker boys. And you just can't get much better than that.



A favorite holiday movie/show:

If you read yesterday's excerpt from San Francisco Serenade, you probably figured out the movie that I alluded to Vance and Sabrina watching on their first "date." It is a movie that, without question, is one of the best Christmas movies ever made simply by taking a familiar holiday classic and slapping some 1980s irreverence onto it. This is courtesy of Bill Effin Murray's portrayal of Scroogy Frank Cross, a nasty TV executive, the epitome of the Greed is Good era of the 20th century. It is rousing and heartfelt, and gave the 80s "Me" generation something to think about besides themselves for a change.



A holiday recipe:

A familiar sight on my family's holiday table (both Thanksgiving and Christmas,) is a big bowl of pink fluff that lasts about a day. I started making it way back when I took over the holiday dinner, and historically every guy in my family, except for Steven, will inhale this "salad" like it was left by Santa himself. I use the term salad because "technically" it is a dish that combines fruit and nuts, there's just a ton of sugar holding it all together. This recipe is in no way healthy, and it's quite impossible to make it so.

I know. I've tried.

But if you want to splurge a little and appeal to the kid in all of us with a sweet, pink treat, then give this tried and true recipe a go. Just be sure to use finger quotes every time you refer to it as a "salad."

Cherry Delight "Salad"

1 can cherry pie filling
1 can Eagle Brand Milk
1 can pineapple tidbits, drained
1 small package chopped pecans
1 tub whipped topping

Mix together and chill overnight.

Book of the Day:

I love Christmas so much that you'll find it used quite a bit through my work, and never was this truer than with my book, "Picture Postcards." I wrote this story back in 1995, and prior to self-publishing it was the closest I came to making my writing dreams come true. It landed me my first agent and gave me direction how to make my characters more three-dimensional. Once I found my niche writing fiction for plus-sized heroines, I wanted to revisit this story and finally publish it for a wide audience.

There was one teensy, tiny problem. It was horribly outdated.

I crafted the plot for PP in the mid-90s because of a call for submissions by Harlequin or some such imprint, that wanted romances that centered around the written word. I mentally toiled and toiled until I came up with the idea of a hopelessly romantic heroine intercepting some anonymous picture postcards written to someone else entirely. Fast forward to 2011/2012 and I realized that the 17 years that had passed rendered my plot obsolete. We are far too connected for this happy "accident" to have happened.

I was overjoyed when I realized that all I had to do to fix the problem was to fudge the dates a little bit, and relay the story within the story... as a mother telling her child how she had met and had fallen in love with her father... as a Christmas tale of romance dated - wonder of wonders - in the 1990s.

EXCERPT "PICTURE POSTCARDS"

Prologue

Christmas Eve, 2004

With nary a creek, a tiny bundle of boundless energy opened the door that led from her bedroom, a cheerful pink oasis tucked in the large neocolonial style home on a tree lined street in Pasadena, California. She pulled some of the playful tangles of her tousled dark hair from her dancing blue eyes before carefully and soundlessly padding down the carpeted hallway. Her feet followed the sound of carols playing in the warm and cozy living room downstairs to find her mother putting the finishing touches on their cheerfully decorated Christmas tree. She held each trinket like a cherished treasure, turning it over in her hands with a nostalgic smile as she examined each memento. The Eiffel Tower, the old jalopy, even the pink pair of slippers found their place among all the other ornaments that told the story of their family.

Her mother looked so happy and peaceful the little girl almost didn’t want to disturb her. But despite her best efforts to stay concealed her mother turned with a barely contained smile. “It’s not morning yet, you know.”

“I know,” the little girl sighed as she plopped onto the sofa. “But I’m too excited to sleep.”

“Santa won’t visit as long as you’re awake.”

That piqued the child’s interest. “Where is he now?”

“Let’s see,” her mother responded as she abandoned the decorating to head toward a computer sitting on a desk in the corner. Within a few clicks she had the information. “Looks like he’s headed to New York. That means he’ll be here in just a few hours.”

The child pouted. “But I can’t sleep. Maybe you should tell me a story.”

Any reprimand died on the woman’s lips as she glanced over at her beloved child. How could she deny her anything, much less a bedtime story? “Okay,” the mother agreed as she came to sit beside the little girl. “Which one?”

The child smiled wide. “You know.”

Her mother giggled as she pulled the cuddly little girl close. “Yes, I suppose I do.” Her eyes fell on the computer sitting across the room from where they huddled on the sofa. “It’s a story that took place only ten years ago, but things were a little different then. Back then we couldn’t get a lot of our information in the blink of an eye like we do today. People still got letters in the mail and sent special cards to let those they loved know they were thinking about them no matter where their travels would take them.”

“Postcards,” the little girl supplied.

“Postcards,” the mother affirmed with a smile. “We still send and receive postcards today, but back then it was different. You could connect people all over the planet with brave little messages even a stranger could intercept. But you know what makes them extra special?”

“It was how you met Daddy,” the little girl whispered, in awe at the power of fate.

“It was how love brought your daddy to me,” the mother said softly. The little girl always thought her mother grew even lovelier when she spoke about the special bond they shared.

So the little girl snuggled in her mother’s arms and waited for the story she had heard many times in the previous seven years, but one that seemed to get better each and every time her mother told it.

“It was 1994,” the woman said, a softness creeping into her voice as she remembered how it all began. “I had just moved to Los Angeles to start my new career. I was pretty excited, and a little scared. And I had no idea that fate was about to change my life in a remarkable way.”

Spread some joy!

One charity near and dear to my heart is St. Jude's Research Hospital. I lost my youngest son Brandon to health complications in 1995, just days after he was born. Of all the things I've been through in my life, the helplessness of not being able to save my son tops the list as the most horrific. St. Jude's has a commitment to help children who need them the most, no family is billed for the life-saving services that they provide. People can partner with St. Jude's for only $19 a month, to provide for care and partner for a cure so that our youngest and most innocent will not fight this battle alone... and hopefully, one day, not fight the battle at all. For every dollar, $0.81 goes towards this research and treatment, which includes care (transportation/meals/housing) for the family.



You've read the blog, now ENTER THE GIVEAWAY!

a Rafflecopter giveaway

On the first day of Christmas, your Geevie brings to you...

A favorite holiday song:

Anyone who knows me knows that I love to laugh, so funny Christmas songs are all over my playlist, case in point "The Twelve Pains of Christmas." Let these folks have the holiday meltdown. You can just smile with sympathy and understanding.



A favorite holiday movie/show:

I grew up in the 1970s/1980s, back when there were only three channels from which to choose for your viewing entertainment. That meant an entire generation had a collective experience when viewing TV, so annual broadcasts (like watching the Wizard of Oz) were more of an event. The same is true for the Christmas Classic, "Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer." It wasn't Christmas until I heard those familiar songs, watched that carefully crafted claymation, or cowered behind the living room coffee table as Bumble terrorized the North Pole. Even now, in the DVD age, there's nothing more special than sitting down to watch the annual broadcast of "Rudolph" when it airs, which I will be doing tonight. Join me, won't you?





A holiday recipe:

Cookies are most fun to make at Christmastime because you get to share your bounty with the ones you love most. Here's a family favorite!

Snickerdoodles

A Christmas memory:

I've mentioned on this blog before how I used my Barbie dolls to create all kinds of stories as a kid. One of the first dolls I remember getting, I got for a Christmas gift.

I ended up naming her "Laura," since I got her right around the time I started watching "General Hospital," and Laura was my favorite character. Over the years, my Laura married (an original sounding character named Ken) and had four kids. She was the rock of my cast, the most stable, the one everyone would go to with their troubles because she was centered and had her stuff together. She taught me a lot about the limitations we put on our characters when we love them too much to hurt them. The stars of the show always, ALWAYS suffer.

The Book of the Day:

I have written a Christmas romance with my novella, "San Francisco Serenade." It is my own personal rock-star romance that used one of my own idols as a prototype for the hero.



I won't say who, that might get embarrassing and weird. Besides, I'm never one to be that obvious.



But suffice it to say, it is a story near and dear to my heart. These characters popped up in a special Easter Egg in "Epic," and I wouldn't be a bit surprised if you see them again and again, cuz that's just how I roll. But until then... enjoy their Christmas romance with this lil' teaser:

I closed the door feeling that familiar melancholy I couldn’t quite explain. It lingered long into the night when, even though I was exhausted, I couldn’t fall asleep.

All I could think about was the lonely man who had shown me a bit of his soul that night. It lingered in my subconscious and even managed to seep into my dreams once the dreams came. I dreamed of meeting his mother over a Christmas dinner surrounded by music and candlelight.

This set me on my mission that following day while I was out in between my interviews and public relations engagements. I told my driver what I was looking to do and much to my delight he drove me right to the kind of boutique that could supply exactly what I was seeking.

I was still smiling to myself as I exited to the hotel late that afternoon, carrying a festive gift bag in my hand. I liked playing elf and I was pretty excited to provide an unexpected gift to my new friend. That surprise was nothing compared to what I found when I opened my suite. The golden splendor was now accented by green garland with cranberries and frosted pine cones around the window facing out over the bay, which now framed a huge and completely decorated Christmas tree. Red candles that sparkled subtly with gold glitter sat atop the coffee table, along with a bowl full of nuts and fruits.

Christmas was still technically three days away, and yet here it was right in my lonely hotel room.

I shrugged out of my coat as I crossed the room toward the tree, placing the gift bag on the coffee table. Dozens of delicate crystal ornaments sparkled where they sat on the tree, in between strands of gold beaded garland. White lights shot brilliant prisms through the different shapes of the crystals, some balls, some bells, some snowflakes, and as I drew closer the tree twinkled at me gleefully.

As I reached out to touch the ornament an unexpected tear fell from my cheek. I hadn’t been looking forward to the holiday, but this was so beautiful I could do nothing but well up with appreciation for the reminder of lovely Christmases past. My cell phone rang almost as if on cue.

I glanced down at the caller ID. It was Vance.

“Merry Christmas,” he said, and from the playful tone of his voice I knew that I had been out-elfed.

“You did this?”

“Did what?” he asked innocently.

I had to laugh. “The tree, you goof.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he said.

“You really do lie beautifully,” I told him with a grin of my own.

“So it’s been said,” he retorted. “But I can’t have my first real human contact in a decade thinking I’m a creep, just because I impulsively violated the sanctity of her hotel suite. Especially to decorate it for a holiday neither one of us were particularly looking forward to.”

I sat on my sofa and glanced over at the gift bag I had brought from downtown. “I dunno,” I offered vaguely. “I think it’s definitely looking up this year.”

“I couldn’t agree more,” he said in a low voice that shot electricity down to my toes. “So what are your plans tonight? Aside from taking over the literary world?”

“Already done,” I answered with a cheeky grin. “So my evening is wide open. Although I feel like I should be making cookies for Santa or something in this winter wonderland I suddenly now occupy.”

He laughed. “Let me take care of that. How about I meet you at your room in about an hour?”

I agreed instantly, never pausing to think that this was virtually a stranger I was inviting to my room. In no way did I feel threatened by him; instead I was excited at the prospect of spending an evening with him where I didn’t have to share his attention with anyone.

I quickly freshened up, getting cozy in my comfy jeans and a soft knit turtleneck sweater. I kicked off my shoes and instead wore some funky socks covered in neon colored peace signs. It wasn’t exactly seasonal, but it wasn’t like I had packed anything Christmasy to begin with.

Maybe I’d have to go out shopping again the next day, this time to elf myself.

Vance arrived promptly at the top of the hour, looking casual yet dapper in his dark sweater and slacks. He wore his hair in a tight, neat ponytail and a playful smirk that gathered tiny lines at the corner of his dark eyes. He held out a small giftwrapped box.

“What’s this for?” I asked, thinking he’d already done so much.

“Nothing sadder than a Christmas tree with no presents he said as he entered the room.

I shut the door behind him. “What makes you think that there are no presents?” I asked.

He cast me a glance before he walked over to the tree, where he saw my gift bag sitting there all by its lonesome under the heavy low branches. “What’d you do?”

“You think you’re the only elf staying in this hotel?” I grinned.

“Well you’re definitely a much cuter elf,” he said as he placed the box under the tree next to the gift bag.

I warmed to his flattery as I walked over to the sofa. “So what are your plans, Mr. Gale

As if answering my question there came a knock at the door. He motioned that I go ahead and sit as he went to answer it. A bellboy rolled in a brass tray laden with Christmas goodies. Vance tipped him and sent him promptly on his way before rolling the tray over to where I sat.

There was egg nog chilling in an ice bucket, a plate full of homemade cookies and fudge, next to a stack of Christmas DVDs and CDs. He also thought ahead for a little protein to counter the carb overload with a cheese and sausage plate and some mulled wine. “This is some spread,” I complimented as I reached over for a wedge of cheese.

“It’s my first Christmas to entertain,” he confessed as poured me a mug of wine. “I figured it better to have lots of options rather than not enough.”

“I like the way you think,” I mumbled between bites, which made him laugh. “Remind me to invite you back for the Fourth of July so that we can have burgers and s’mores.”

“It’s a date,” he agreed as he held up his mug to toast. Our eyes met and held for a tiny moment longer than necessary, which made us both look quickly away. He cleared his throat and reached for a DVD. “What shall we watch first?”

On the top of the stack sat one of my favorite Christmas movies, a comedic re-imagining of Dickens’ classic Scrooge story. “I love to laugh. Let’s start with that one.”

He agreed and he set up the machine on the TV sitting just across from the couch. We settled next to each other under a throw blanket and let he movie begin. Though it was a movie I had seen dozens of times before, it was an entirely different experience sitting cuddled next to Vance. I felt the heat of his body next to mine, and with each shift to get more comfortable we got closer and closer together until we sat flush side by side.

I wanted to blame the rush of warmth through my body on the wine, but every little part of me that touched him became acutely aware that I was sitting beside Vance Gale – a man I had dreamed about as recently as the night before. That was his throaty laugh that sent tiny chills over my heightened senses, that was his cologne I could smell coming from a body he still kept healthy and fit even into his 40s.

Never in my wildest, adolescent dreams would I have ever thought I’d be there, like that, with him. This was a man who had always been behind a velvet rope, and now I sat practically in his lap while we watched movies in the low light of a private hotel suite.

It was the stuff of fantasies for any girl who had ever lusted after a rock star. Somewhere in me was that same awkward 15-year-old who blushed when our eyes met with shared laughter over the movie. Those eyes weren’t looking into a camera anymore. They were looking right into mine.

And, being slightly older than 15, I already knew that the interest I saw there was real. Maybe it was because we were lonely and fending off the holidays with a convenient friendship. Or maybe it was simply a matter of two people who shared a mutual attraction.

Whenever he looked at me, however, it really didn’t seem to matter. Suddenly I couldn’t imagine being anywhere else. I wanted to be there in that moment with him. And we were both single adults… so why not enjoy it?

But as God as my witness, when his arm slid across the back of the couch I didn’t know quite what to do. I stared at the screen although I had ceased to care what was going on there. I felt my blood thunder in my ears as electricity singed each and every nerve ending. I felt his hand on my shoulder and whether he pulled me into the crook of his arm or I just found my way there on my own was unclear. Yet in a second I found myself comfortably situated right in his embrace as we cuddled together under the blanket for the climax of the movie.

It ended with a rousing and uplifting song, which made me glance up at him to see if he’d actually find his voice to sing it. Instead there were tears glistening in the corner of his eyes. My soul ached for the pain he still harbored losing his beloved mother. Without any conscious thought on the matter my hand reached up to caress his cheek. It inadvertently captured one of his tears.

“Are you okay?” I whispered.

He gave me a brave smile as he pulled me into the circle of his arms. He held me close and whispered in my hair, “I am now.”

Spread some joy:

A lot of folks bitch and moan about the "true" meaning of Christmas being lost. Some blame political correctness, some blame commercialism, but the truth of the matter is Christmas is alive and well wherever there is one person who seeks to bring "peace on earth and goodwill toward man." In honor of that, I will feature charities over the course of the next 12 days which all do their part to make a difference in our world.

RED CROSS

You've read the blog, now ENTER THE GIVEAWAY!

a Rafflecopter giveaway

12 Days of Christmas Giveaway!

Have I mentioned that I absolutely love Christmas? It's my favorite holiday of the year and I love almost everything about it. I will OD on Christmas tunes from Thanksgiving to Christmas Day, and leave my tree up all the way to January 1st. (OK... 2nd.) I love the lights and the sparkle, the dazzle and the surprises. So I figured what better way to celebrate this year than to include all of you?

I am so grateful for every single person who bought and/or reviewed a book, wrote a blog, retweeted/followed/fanned me on social media and helped promote me in ways large and small. Not only have you given me the career of my dreams, you've all been so kind and generous when you meet or interact with me. Truly it is one of the best gifts ever.

Since I had so much fun with the birthday scavenger hunt, I decided to come back to the blog and host a Christmas event. What better way than with the 12 days of Christmas?? Twelve whole days, tons of gifts? Sign me up!

So every day from December 14 all the way to December 25, I will post a blog to talk about my favorite Christmas memories, traditions, movies, etc. And every day you can follow along, comment, share your favorite parts of the holiday, for the chance to win one of 12 prizes.

Yep, that's right... 12 winners... 12 prizes, and with gifts a little more practical than turtle doves or a partridge in a pear tree. (Or, in the immortal words of Beaker, mememememe.)



Ten third place winners will get the e-book "Enticed: Book 1 of the Fullerton Family Saga" prior to its January release, with their own digital Advanced Review Copy. A second place winner will win a signed paperback copy of "Enticed," and the grand prize winner will win a $25 gift certificate to either Amazon or Barnes and Noble.

a Rafflecopter giveaway

It all starts this Saturday, so save the date! Let's have some fun this holiday season, cuz that's what it's there for!

The Art of the Tease

If you've read my books, you're well aware that I like to take my time getting to the "money shot." This is because I love, more than anything, the art of the tease. I love the chase, the pursuit, and that will-they-won't-they tension that keeps you turning the page. Maybe it's part of being a Scorpio, maybe being a redhead, maybe because I came of age nearly 30 years ago, but sex is all about the power of seduction to me. If I want wham-bam-thank-you-ma'am, I'll watch a porno to scratch the itch. But if I am going to fall in love with a couple (or a man) you gotta make me ache for it, or else I grow bored like a cat who killed a mouse with the first swat.

I learned to savor the chase a long time ago, when I first started watching soap operas. These storytellers, especially in the 1970s when I started watching, knew a thing or two about making their audience turn in day after day. You couldn't miss one episode because that day might be the one where the couple you rooted for finally consummated their attraction. Each near-miss was a delicious frustration that left me wanting more.



I started watching General Hospital in 1978, where I promptly fell in love with troubled teenager Laura Webber. I was invested in her journey to find happiness and love almost from the get-go. When she met Scotty Baldwin, I wanted her to get her happy ending because that was what she wanted. That is... until Luke Spencer rolled into town and turned us all on our ears. Luke was a bad boy, and even at the age of eight I found this titillating. (Still do.)



Scotty quickly bored me in comparison as I switched allegiance to #teamluke. The chase was on.

Thanks to 21st century technology, you are able to fall right into a L&L hole on YouTube, starting with that clip above. I caught up with them back in 2010, and I watched - obsessively - for a week or two straight, which was torture enough. In real time, however, each day was agonizing. And I loved every freaking minute of it. I couldn't get enough. I quickly forgot about the afternoon cartoons that followed GH every weekday. I lived for 2:00pm, Monday through Friday, so I could get one more hit.



The longer they made me wait, the more I wanted... needed... for these two star-crossed lovers to get together. And precious little stood in between me and my favorite show. By no coincidence, 1979 was the year I learned how to play hooky. Nothing was more annoying than wasting a "sick day" on a day that didn't feature my favorite couple at all. That following summer, when L&L went "on the run," it was absolutely Must-See TV. Every time they got closer and closer to consummating their love affair, my heart swelled with pre-pre-teen squealiness as I realized the romance was in the waiting. I felt every touch, tasted every kiss. I was enchanted.



From the time I started watching the show until they finally did the deed (the disco scene notwithstanding,) lasted from 1978 all the way to 1980. If you follow the playlists on YouTube, you have to get to part #292 in order to reach "the moment." This was agony at the time, but the payoff was ah-may-zah-zing. Short lived... but amazing. The writers at GH gave us our moment, but they quickly tore our young lovers apart for yet ANOTHER year and ANOTHER adventure. There was always something, somewhere, postponing their Happily Ever After. Somehow it made their love affair even more exquisite.



Stolen kisses were enough to keep us all on the line all the way up to their wedding in November of 1981, which - btw - drew in 30 MILLION viewers. Even all these years later, it remained the most-watched hour in soap history.

Not bad for a show that as on the verge of cancellation just four years before. From 1978 to 1981, Luke and Laura drew us in and saved General Hospital. I credit this all to the art of the tease. They gave us just enough crumbs to keep us coming back for more, day after day, week after week, year after year.

I, myself, stayed on that line until Genie Francis (aka Laura,) left the show, but I came right back in 1983 when she returned for a guest appearance. Even the reunion dragged out, but the payoff was worth all those years that Luke thought his beloved angel was dead and lost to him forever. (Long story.)



They rode off into the sunset together and I could finally put their love story to bed, figuratively speaking.

Fast forward to 1985 and I found yet another frustrating couple to champion... namely David Addison and Maddie Hayes.



You wanna talk about a lesson in waiting. Moonlighting kept us on the hook for three seasons before they put us out of our misery. Maddie and David were so completely mismatched yet their chemistry was off-the-charts hot. For more than two years we watched the "will-they-or-won't-they" until they finally DID... then after that no one cared anymore and the show tanked.

Guess I'm not the only one who likes the chase.

Needless to say, I learned these lessons well. When I was a pre-teen and working out my own salacious storytelling with the help of my cast of Barbie and Ken dolls, I took my time telling these stories that kept me so invested I didn't stop playing with my fictional people until I was 17 years old. I wanted to put my characters through the wringer because I suffered every agonizing moment along with them.

And I loved it.

When one of my Barbies got pregnant, I would - no lie - tape tissue to their bellies in increasing increments so they could experience pregnancy in real time. When my obsessed photographer, Kevin, kidnapped my married actress, Jenny, she stayed on that island her entire pregnancy. She returned home to her husband (Bobby,) who believed her dead, with their baby (Mindy) in her arms.

It was a beautiful reunion.

What I'm saying... I love the agony because it makes the payoff a bazillion times better. And I write like this to this day. Though many contemporary romances get to the boot-knockin', baby-makin', wall-bangin' scenes early and fast, I'm known to make you wade through half of a book full of near-misses until I let my folks do the deed. One of the better compliments I've received from a reader is that my books stand out because of this, and she loves the build-up in contrast to the flash and burn.

Mission accomplished.

The reason I'm telling you all this? Well... next year you're going to be introduced to a new series that celebrates this art of the tease like nothing I've written in the past. This series, like my Groupie series, will have several disclaimers... the biggest of which is that it is not a book about sexual conquest. You want that kind of book, read Raven Walks. That horny vampire hooks up often and well, with just about every human who strikes his fancy. But my Fullerton Family Saga, which begins in January with Enticed, will test us all how long we can tolerate the buildup. And I put a triangle in there, too... just to further complicate things. I'm going to draw it out as long as it makes sense to do so, and I've given myself three books to get it right.

If that isn't your thing, save your money for other books who give it to you hard and fast. Me? I like it slow. I want to tease and be teased until we're about to explode with anticipation. We're going to take our time this next time out and revel in the chase, in the angst, in the agony.

Join me... if you dare. ;)



EXCERPT FROM "ENTICED: BOOK 1 OF THE FULLERTON FAMILY SAGA"

We didn’t have much time before he would return, so Drew didn’t mince words. “I think you misunderstood exactly what kind of tutor I was seeking for my son. He is going to be a titan in business, following four generations of Fullertons before him. He needs to be prepared. You’ll forgive me if I don’t think measuring ingredients and shopping at the market qualify as the higher education for which I’m paying very good money.”

I placed the fork on the plate, my appetite totally obliterated. “You wanted me to teach your son, and I have done that. More importantly, I’ve reached him. He knows he can trust me, especially after I shielded him from that family debacle yesterday. This morning I gave Jonathan three different tests. In math, he was tested on fractions and word problems. The skills he learned with a simple cooking lesson or quick trip to the store helped him score in the 99th percentile. Likewise on the history essay, where he researched and wrote a thousand-word document on the Greystone Mansion and Park where we walked and explored, which – if I’m not mistaken – qualifies under your physical fitness requirement. I also tested him on the book he’s been reading for pleasure, with a questionnaire that helped him think critically about the material he was reading simply for the joy of it. It is a book that has been in my own curriculum for years, and I’m confident at least one student who has read it will go on and get an Ivy League education.”

His jaw clenched as he realized what I had done. I had taken Jonathan from a stale, unchallenging classroom environment with endless tests and bookwork, which had been crippling his curious and playful nature. By putting him in an entirely foreign setting, he learned how to do the things Drew wanted him to do, right down to the budgeting skills at the market, but in a new setting that would naturally keep him more engaged than the boring ol’ status quo. And he never even realized what I had done until I had quizzed him on it.

My green eyes glittered just as hard as his icy blue ones. “You may question my methods, Mr. Fullerton, but my results are indisputable. Considering I did all this in two days, even playing go-between between you and your ex-wife and your pain-in-the-ass brother, I’d say I’ve done a hell of a lot more than the previous tutors you have hired to do this job, with exceptional results.”

Normally I wouldn’t have cursed at an employer. But his elitist attitude really pissed me off. Did he really believe his son was too good to wash a dish or cook a meal, as if these mundane tasks held no value for such powerful, wealthy people? And if that was true, how did he regard anyone who had the misfortune of being born average? Did he think we were all beneath him, simply because we had no one to treat us like gods? The Texan was coming out, and he was either going to prove he could deal with that or he was going to send me home anyway. I had nothing to lose. In fact, the only one who had anything at all at stake was Jonathan.

“Now, if you don’t approve of my more unconventional methods, then you can gas up the jet and send me home tonight. But I’m willing to bet that you won’t find anyone else who can reach Jonathan the way that I have done. I have a connection with him. That was what you wanted. That is what you got.” I grabbed a glass of ice water and gulped it down. “Do with that what you will.” Before he could reply, Jonathan raced back into the room, wearing a new jade green kimono, and holding the entire box set of his favorite Anime program. “Thanks, Dad!” he said as he rushed to hug his father. “Let’s watch it together,” he pleaded hopefully. I used that opportunity to slide my chair back and rise from the table. “I think I’ll retire for the evening. Let you two catch up.”

Jonathan was crestfallen. “No, Rachel,” he said with a plaintive whine in his voice. “Please don’t go. You haven’t even had any pudding.”

“Pudding?” Drew echoed.

Jonathan nodded. “She made homemade Southern banana pudding.”

I shook my head. “You enjoy it. I’m stuffed,” I lied easily. “The dinner was excellent, Jonathan. You did a great job.” I turned to Drew. “It was very nice meeting you, Mr. Fullerton. I trust you’ll think about what I said and let me know if there has been any change in plans.”

Jonathan was panicked as he looked between his father and me. “Change of plans? You’re not leaving, are you, Rachel?”

“No decisions have been made,” Drew filled in before I could speak. “Why don’t you go get us some pudding, Jonathan? That sounds delicious.”

Jonathan nodded and disappeared into the kitchen. Drew rose to his feet and walked around the table to face me. “Obviously I’m not used to being spoken to in such a way in my own home,” he said, his voice hard but quiet. “But obviously I offended you. I apologize.” He offered his hand.

It was a gesture of civility, but his eyes were still lethal as they stared down at me. My hand shook as I placed it in his. His fingers closed around mine powerfully as he pulled me closer. I gasped as I stopped short mere inches from that massive chest. I hadn’t been this close to a man in many years, much less a man as intimidating. I was certain that he could feel the tremble in my grasp when my eyes shot to his and his face broke apart in a victorious smile. “Start over?” he asked softly. “Rachel?”

I gulped hard. I should have told him to gas up the jet anyway and just leave Beverly Hills in my daydreams where it belonged. Had Jonathan not been a factor, I probably would have done just that. But he was very much a factor, so I owed it to him to make it work with Drew, who now had five days to prove to me that I could work for him. He had to trust me and my methods, and respect the job that I was hired to do. So I tipped my chin again and said in as steady a voice as I could muster, “You’re the boss,” I said, adding, “Mr. Fullerton,” defiantly.

I pulled my hand from his and carried myself on unsteady legs all the way to the guest room.

The Grinch that Pirated Christmas

One of the more aggravating parts of my job includes tracking down pirated copies of my book listed on the Internet without my consent. These books are not authorized by me and I receive no compensation whatsoever whenever they are downloaded or read. Often I have no clue that they are posted and available until I take valuable time out of my schedule (that I could spend writing new books) to track them down. Once I am made aware, I will send these file hosts a cease and desist notice so that my work will be removed from their site, a process that varies from site to site and is a ginormous pain in my ass. They're the ones stealing my work, but yet I have to go through their hoops to have it removed. Welcome to the 21st Century.

This is especially upsetting considering I deliberately price my content so that it fits almost any budget, and I give away quite a bit of my work for free. I even allow lending on all my books, which you can locate courtesy of book-lending websites. In other words, there is no need for pirating any one of my books, or listing any of my books on these pirating websites for others to read "for free." Doing so takes away *my* option for distribution, and as the one who created this content, this is a direct violation of my rights. I am the sole owner of the copyright on each and every book, and as such I should be compensated whenever a site makes my book available for a reader. Given that some of these piracy sites are classified as "sponsored" and likely have ad revenue going directly to those who run the sites, that means someone is getting paid for this service and it isn't the creators responsible for the content driving visitors to their site in the first place. Our sales undeniably take a hit when the content is available for free elsewhere, even resulting in returns of legitimately purchased material. This drives up the price for all the people who actually value the written word enough to pay those who worked so hard to create it.

In short, piracy is no bueno for anyone but the thieves.

To say it's a sore spot is an understatement. I put all the work into my book and as such deserve the compensation it garners. Anyone who thinks writing a book isn't a "real job" clearly has never put the time in to actually write a book start to finish, much less do the work to perfect it for a sale. I'm not a typist, I'm a writer. It takes time and effort to take a blank page and create a whole new world. No third party deserves to get paid for a book's unauthorized availability, because no one else put in the months of hard work (unpaid) to create/edit/format/market the material in hopes that it will eventually recoup the cost. Which, btw, it takes thousands of copies sold to recoup months of work just at a minimum wage level. Only four of my 15 published books are currently "in the black," earning profit... mostly because I low-ball my own prices just to reach a wider audience.

Which brings me to a very upsetting recent discovery: people are now selling pirated copies of my book through illegitimate sites created to undercut authorized dealers.

It came to our indie community's collective notice that these new websites were selling our content without our consent, which was upsetting to say the least. Our content was virtually stolen so that others could pocket the profit rightfully owed to us. An argument could be made that a person who pirates a "free" book wouldn't pay for the book anyway, as they see no value in the finished product enough to pay the creator for their hard work. These new websites, however, are targeting honest buyers who still want to buy the books, but want to get it at the best possible price they can. Some authors have noticed that their return rate at authorized distributors like Amazon have gone up curiously after these new counterfeit sites started popping up. Some of us have seen our sales plummet despite the busy holiday shopping season as well, which isn't making for a very merry Christmas.

Many of these sites are taken down immediately after they are created because our indie author community is on top of it just as much as any attorney hired to protect traditional publishers... and both types of authors are being targeted. Unfortunately they pop back up under a new heading the very next day, which means you could stumble across a site that hasn't yet been flagged. Should you run across one of these sites, here are a few pointers that you are not dealing with an authorized dealer:

1.) The books offered are priced very different from more recognized dealers. Unlike sales your authors and their publishers are likely to alert you to, the sale prices on these new websites will often significantly undercut the published price at Amazon and Barnes and Noble, the two major ebook dealers most of us opt to sell our books through because they reach the widest readership. It is important to note that Amazon price-matches other authorized dealers even if the author sets different prices through different storefronts. If you find a brand new website that offers books at prices that don't match the two major ebook titans, buyer beware.

2.) Contact information is often not provided through these new websites. The contact form simply does not work, or has a generic "free" email from sites like gmail. These dump-and-go email addresses allude to "fly-by-night" business practices. A site big enough to offer thousands and thousands of books from authors big and small should have enough capital to invest in a legitimate website with its own email server, because it should be building a business for the long term and credibility is key.

3.) It is a "new" e-bookstore that you've never heard of before, but it has all the books available that a big dealer would. Some will even try to make their website *look* like the legitimate sellers, which is another major giveaway of dirty dealing.

4.) They will often charge a set rate for all books regardless of author or book, another big tell. I don't have to include big publishers/agents/publicists/attorneys in my purchase price like Stephen King would, so his cost is generally going to be higher. If his book, listed on Amazon for $9.99 for a Kindle copy, is $1.90 (same as mine) on a no-name site, you can safely assume those copies have been pirated and the people who should be getting paid to cover the purchase price are getting screwed. Also, while I can sell a single book for $0.99, bundled books do and should cost more. If you find book bundles of mine for considerably less than the already discounted price on Amazon or B&N, it is being sold without my consent and I am not getting paid... i.e., it's stolen.

For the record, here are the authorized dealers for my e-books:

Amazon

Barnes and Noble

Apple/iTunes

Kobo

Sony

Diesel eBooks

Smashwords

All Romance eBooks

When you buy from these authorized dealers, you pay the price that I have set and I get properly compensated as the sole copyright owner of the content. Any other price set by a no-name dealer means they have obtained a copy of my books and are offering it for sale without my knowledge. This is theft, plain and simple. Please don't support it by giving them your hard-earned money, especially since many of my prices are nearly half of what they are charging for stand-alone books anyway.

If you happen to see my content on an ebook website not listed above (aside from Google/Goodreads,) please let me know.

Holiday Savings

Starting on Black Friday and lasting through Small Business Saturday, Cyber Monday and beyond:

$0.99 e-books



$1.99 e-book bundles



Holiday Exclusives!!

Eight books have been bundled together to include the books that connect the GROUPIE universe. Whether you gift it to someone else or to yourself, buy fast! It will be discontinued by January 2014!



Deals apply for your Kindle, Nook or iPad!!

Happy Holidays!

*If you cannot see thee links above, check out my blog here.