TGIF Contest

Okay today is my day to blog. Problem? I've got nothing to write about. I'm drained from revisions and life. So, instead of boring you with my life's trials and tribulations I'm hosting a contest.

I have a new release coming in Sept from Aspen Mountain Press called Heat Waves. Answer two questions correctly and you could win a copy of one of my recent releases. You can check out those at http://amberskyze.blogspot.com/



1. What is the name of the Limo driver?

2. What is Nina afraid will happen to Cindy?



HINT: You can find the answer to both questions below in the excerpt.


Once you've found the answers post them in the comment section. Tomorrow I'll pick a winner.


Hope you enjoy this little contest. :-)

Blurb:

Ever wonder about the face behind the voice of a radio DJ?
Nina Walters has. She can’t get enough of disc jockey Ty’s sexy baritone. He has her masturbating to his voice daily. When he challenges his listeners to a contest Nina wants the upper hand. Luckily for her, her best friend, Cindy, works at the radio station.
Ty is offering a dream date, with him, to one lucky winner. He’s almost positive no one will guess the answer correctly. So, when Nina does he’s floored. Being a man of his word, he goes through with the date.
Sparks fly, but secrets linger. Will their heat for one another be enough to ride the waves of deception?

Excerpt:

Nina struggled to keep up with him. She couldn’t imagine why he was ignoring her. She hung up on Cindy with no explanation. She needed to find out what was wrong with Ty. She watched him climb into the front of the limo. When she reached the door she pulled on the lever.
Locked. She knocked on the black-tinted window.
No response.
She knocked again, this time louder.
Still no response.
“I know you’re in there, Ty. Please come out and tell me what’s wrong,” she pleaded.
Why was he ignoring her? What had she done? Besides waiting for him to come out of the bathroom, she’d thought they were having a good time. What had changed his mind?
Jasper opened his door and stepped out. “Ms. Walters, let me get the door for you.” He opened the back door and waited for her to step in.
“I’m not getting in until Ty explains to me what the hell is going on.” Her voice grew louder as her frustration mounted.
“Ms. Walters, please.”
She knew she was making Jasper uncomfortable, but she didn’t care. She couldn’t understand what was going on.
“I’m not moving, so either you have Ty get his ass out of the car and talk to me, or you can leave me here.”
Jasper closed the door and disappeared into the limo, leaving her standing there.
Just fucking great. Was he going to take her seriously and leave her? He wouldn’t would he? This was ridiculous. Was he some kind of weirdo? Did he do this often? They’d shared an incredible day. What the fuck was going on?
She counted to one hundred. No one exited the limo, but it didn’t drive away either. Maybe that was a good sign. She paced the length of the limo racking her brain. She couldn’t figure it out, unless…
Oh shit!
Had he heard her conversation with Cindy? She hadn’t said enough to have him understand—had she? She’d continually looked over her shoulder to see if he was coming. Had he snuck up on her and listened to her private conversation? That would have been rude. But still, she couldn’t wrap her thoughts around what would make his so mad. She hadn’t said anything incrementing. If she had and he was pissed Cindy could lose her job.
That would be the nightmare of all nightmares.
When she reached two hundred and still no Ty, she went back to his side and knocked on the window.

August Thirteenth

The 13th of every month is my day to blog and I almost always forget my day. Not today. I remembered because today is an anniversary and a bad memory. On this day, oh...I don't know how many years ago...I married my first husband. We eloped and were married before a Justice of the Peace in front of two witnesses.
Why oh why did I do this? Why on earth did I run off and marry someone I barely knew? To this day, I have no idea why I married an utter nightmare of a human being. I suppose I could be New Age about the entire experience and say...well...there are no mistakes. We are destined to do the things we do so we can learn and grow and blah...blah...blah. Maybe there's something to that. I certainly did learn an awful lot. But I was also very young, very troubled, very afraid, and blinded by my screwed up past. I didn't stand before the Justice of the Peace as a hopeful young bride. I stood there, legs shaking, filled with the absolute conviction that I was doing the wrong thing yet I did it anyway. How crazy is that!
Every single August 13th, I remember as if it's happening in the present. The day has left an indelible mark on me - like a tattoo. But by tomorrow, I will have forgotten all over again. Despite the fact that New Year's Day is January 1, my year always begins on August 14th. August 13th is how I've marked my calendar year ever since.
So that's why I remembered it's my day to blog!

Putting the Muse on hold.

I'm jumping in for a quick blog although my days are actually August 15 and 30. I have sold my home and am moving into a beautiful retirement apartment building. Not a care facility! My new suite overlooks the sea - a million dollar view.

My muse is on hold until I am settled in my new home. However, I am going on a short cruise from Vancouver to Skagway, and one of my writer friends is joining me. We are plotting a series - very different story lines from what we usually write. That should be fun.

My historical romance, A Very Difficult Man, is now available in trade paperback as well in the e-pub edition, both from Cerridwen Press. The cover is beautiful. There's a gypsy fortune teller in my story, that's her crystal ball on the cover.

I hope to have time to blog on August 15th. Depends if my brain can cope with planning to move - packing, sorting, throwing stuff away - what to keep, what not to keep.

Anita
www.anitabirt.com

The Importance of Passion

I just read Bleak House by Charles Dickens -- and watched the BBC movie so I could figure out what was going on -- and read Spark notes to make sure what I thought was going on really did.

One of the themes is the importance of passion. It’s like fire, dangerous but necessary. The word makes us think of heavy breathing, gasps, and sighs, but it’s also a main component of motivation. Lack of passion and interest is essentially death. Ever done a job you weren’t passionate about? Didn’t the time go very slowly? Passion gives you that can’t wait to get out of bed feeling in the morning (not just the can’t wait to get into it at night).

It’s what makes us good writers. So what happens when we sit at the keyboard and feel no passion? As the pilot of Apollo 13 said, “Houston, we have a problem.” Passion is the lifeblood of fiction. The reader wants to feel what the characters feel. I recommend reading Christopher Vogler’s “The Writer’s Journey.” In it, he says good writing makes our juices flow. Sounds gross but it’s true. We’ve got to feel that stuff percolating while we type so the reader feels it when she reads it. Amazing how passion stays locked up in those little words, isn’t it? Just sitting there, waiting to be read, or re-read if it’s a keeper.

So have you lost your passion? Never fear. There is help.

-Drink some java or take a jog to get the heart pumping.
-Take a break. Fatigue and burn-out kill passion. Recharge. Better yet, take a little trip for a change of scene.
-Watch an emotional movie. Get out the tissues and have a good wail.
-Watch a soap opera and watch the facial expressions, body language, and tone of voice -- and how they all converge to convey emotion.
-Face your fears. Have an issue you’re burying so it can’t hurt you? Dig it up and feel it so you can feel and write again. Writing is cathartic.

May passion be with you!

Afton Locke
www.aftonlocke.com

Interview with Hero Sloane Hoffman from "Sexy Games"

New release, "Sexy Games" by April Ash, is an erotic romance book with Sloane Hoffman and Stacy Newman testing new games for the Naughty Games Company...a company that specializes in adult games. They're required to don costumes and role-play different scenarios. And, sex is involved.

Q: Sloane, why did you decide to test games?
A: Two reasons. I wanted to satisfy my father's request, and once I saw Stacy again and knew she'd be my testing partner, I couldn't say no.

Q: I, heard a rumor that Stacy wasn't very anxious to have you as her partner. Am I wrong?
A: (Sloane squirms in his chair) Stacy was mad at me, and rightfully so. We'd spent an incredible night together and I kinda left her in a hurry. Without a word. Sorta fled in panic. But, she warmed up to the idea pretty quickly and we both were happy about that.

Q: What kind of woman do you like to date?
A: Up until Stacy, I'd say one that I know deep down inside I won't have trouble walking away from. My bachelor radar was always on, always alert so I wouldn't get too close to anyone.

Q: What about Stacy?
A: Is it getting hot in here? (Sloane runs his finger around the inside of his collar) Stacy's, well, different. I wanted her and didn't want anyone else to have her. She was always stuck in the back of my mind and drove me crazy.

Q: Tell me about the first game you played, "Hot Sands".
A: I got to be a sheik and wear a costume consisting of a turban, vest and pantaloons that the game testing people developed. A little scratchy at first, but I didn't wear them long. Anyway, Stacy and her costume distracted me from any discomfort.

Q: Game number two? "Teach Me"?
A: (Big grin appears on Sloane's face) I had to play a nerdy professor, naive about the world of strippers and lap-dancing. Stacy had this really suggestive costume, and... (Sloane's eyes glaze over) Oh. Yeah. I wore this dumb bowtie and suit. She had these pasties with tassels, and plastic fish swimming around in her very high clear heels, and, well, we didn't keep the costumes on too long.

Q: Last game..."The Lady and Her Butler".
A: Interesting one. I got to be the experienced butler guiding a novice and pure "lady" through the pleasures of lovemaking. (Sloane laughs) Stacy's character sure caught on fast. We got to do this tub scene...well, I've always loved water sports.

Q: So, what happens at the end?
A: (Sloane shakes a finger at me) Now that's something you'll have to find out by reading the book. Obstacles always creep into romance, and ours is no different.

Q: Anything else we should know about you or "Sexy Games"?
A: Hmm. (Sloane leans in near me and whispers) Well, there are other creative ways we satisfy our passion, but...read the book! I don't "kiss and tell" everything!

"Sexy Games", by April Ash, is now available from Ellora's Cave:

http://www.ellorascave.com/productpage.asp?ISBN=9781419922978

A blurb and excerpts are at:
www.aprilash.net 

A sagging middle

No, not mine. If it is I'd never admit it....I really mean the dreaded middle of the book when you need a dramatic episode or two to make the transition between the first scene and the last. Those two I generally have firmly in mind and can set on paper almost as soon I decide on a new book. It's the middle, the damned middle, that gives me fits every time.

Sometimes an idea comes to me in the middle of the night, and I lie there repeating it in my head so I'll remember it in the morning. Often I do, and with a germ of an idea can go ahead. Sometimes I forget by morning, and then I'm in trouble. Can't make notes at night since the light would wake my husband. As a lot of you know, he's not been well. Anyway I wish I could think better in the day time. Seems I need to be half asleep to get the old subconscious to take over.

Do you all do this, or something like it? My subconcious definitely works better at night, especially if I repeat the problem to myself several times before falling asleep. Last night I wrestled with how to make the hero look good even while the villain breaks through the protection he's put around her and injures her. Blast if I don't at least give myself interesting problems.

This new book is Twin Quest Two, hopefully to be no. five in the Songs of the Mages series. Jono is the playboy twin who's abjured his mages powers, and is now wanting to reform so he can claim and also help the heroine. It's going to take a lot of convincing, because he's been a very bad boy. Needless to say it's a book I'm enjoying writing. Always love to really delve into a character, and who doesn't like bad boys trying to reform?. Doesn't hurt a bit if he happens to be handsome and a real charmer...Its proof of the old saying twisted around, it's not love of a good woman a man needs, but love FOR her.

BABIES IN THE BARGAIN

Babies in the Bargain
Author: Mona Risk
Publisher: Wild Rose Press

Release Date: July 3, 2009
Blue Ribbon Rating: 5
Format: EBOOK/PRINT

BABIES IN THE BARGAIN is one novel that pulls you into the story and holds you captive to the last page. My heart broke for Marc and the touching way little Paulito comes into his life. At the same time, the baby forces Holly to acknowledge her feelings for Marc – feelings she’s been trying hard to ignore. Mona Risk delves into the intense life and death situation babies in the NICU face and tempers that overwhelming emotion with a high intensity romance in a storyline that will truly touch the reader’s heart.

BABIES IN THE BARGAIN, sweet and spicy, in the genre of ER and Gray's Anatomy: New release at The Wild Rose Press.

Buy link: at TWRP
http://www.thewildrosepress.com/babies-in-the-bargain-p-1298.html

At Amazon.com
http://www.amazon.com/Babies-Bargain-Mona-Risk/dp/1601545142/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&s=books&qid=1246659781&sr=1-1

At Barnes and Noble:http://search.barnesandnoble.com/Babies-In-The-Bargain/Mona-Risk/e/9781601545145/?itm=1

Short Synopsis:
With only one year left to complete her medical training in Neonatology, Dr. Holly Collier vows not to let anyone mess up her sacrosanct schedule. Especially not the drop-dead gorgeous Dr. Marc Suarez who broke her heart seven years ago.

When a tragic accident transforms the carefree playboy into a dedicated but novice father to his nephew, Holly gives in to her maternal instincts and turns her structured life upside down for the orphaned preemie. But can she learn to trust Marc again and believe in true love?

Excerpt:

He sucked in a deep breath. Had he been so insensitive? Judging by the shadow of sadness in her eyes, he’d made a real mess back then. Damn it. “I’m sorry if I hurt you. That was never my intention.”

“It’s all in the past,” she said in the soothing voice she probably used with the parents of her little patients. She didn’t even seem to resent him. But he knew better. She had avoided him as if he could transmit germs on sight.

Her head tilted to the side, she stared at him like a porcelain statue, beautiful but cold. His fingers clenched on his fork to refrain from caressing her hair. She hadn’t asked for explanations, but as a doctor, he felt the need to disinfect old wounds.

“Let me explain the scene you’d witnessed. Several girls came to say goodbye. Some of these women were quite aggressive. But none was special to me. They hugged and kissed and wished me the best. That was it. I couldn’t throw them out when they were just being nice. Beside I was going away the next day.” He covered her fisted hand. It slowly relaxed. “You were the only one I wrote to.”

“A few lines to tell me you were extremely busy.” She pushed the croutons of her salad to the side of her plate with nervous little taps.

“I was. Honestly. My father’s health was failing. And then both my sister and Carlos had some, hmm, problems. But I wrote again as soon as I could.”

“Three letters in a year. Not that I’m blaming you. I didn’t have a free minute myself.”
He didn’t like her bitter smile. He tried to capture her gaze, but she kept looking at the damn croutons as if she were studying a medical sample.

“But that doesn’t mean I wasn’t thinking about you. In fact there wasn’t a day that I didn’t think about you.”

“Come on.” She raised her eyebrows in disbelief.

“Oh, yes. At least for the first two years,” he specified, a thorny regret twisting his insides.

“When you never answered my last letter, I gave up and started flirting right and left to forget you.”

“That I can well imagine.” A sarcastic smile played on her lips.

She certainly didn’t harbor a good opinion about his character. He wasn’t at liberty to divulge the series of scandals his family had faced and the shame that muddied the Suarez name until he had repaired the damage. But he could at least explain his compulsive search for fun. An effective antidote to the troubles that had poisoned his life.

“Holly, you know firsthand that medicine is a tough field. The long hours, the stress. I was working like a madman. I saw death on a regular basis.” And an alcoholic father in a wheelchair, pathetic and loud. “I never thought twice about taking a bit of pleasure wherever I could find it. It was all part of the hectic life, part of growing up.”

Her lips puckered in a grimace. “No shit. I’m used to medical stress, Marc. I’m still in deep water now.”

“Yes, I know.” He raked his fingers through his hair. “But I’ve changed now. Trudging the poor areas of San Juan forced me to see life differently. And the old problems were settled.”

“You don’t have to.” She arched a skeptical eyebrow.

Words—even words from the heart—were not enough to convince her. He’d have to prove himself.

She flipped her hand in the air, in an I’ve-heard-it-all-before gesture. “I can deal with charming playboys. My father belonged to that club.”

“Your father? Is he...deceased?”

“To me. I haven’t seen him in twenty years. He left when I was ten and never asked for visitation rights.”

The bitterness of her words twisted at his guts. It was even worse than he thought. Holly was convinced he was nothing but a lecher, a younger version of her father.

“I’m sorry about your father. But for us, it was seven years ago. We’ve both changed. Matured.”
He knew he had. He didn’t need to flirt to forget the pain of losing his only brother. Having Holly with him was the only soothing his wounded soul hungered for. He smiled at her and squeezed her hand.

Holly’s heart somersaulted. Heat spread from her fingers, ran through her arm. His devastating smile was back in place, but without the hint of arrogance that used to put her on edge. A glint of affection reflected in his chocolate eyes.

Could it be possible?

“Yes, we have.” Under the table, she scraped her heels back and forth against the tiles. “Yes, of course. We’ve matured. You are the eminent anesthesiologist WCH hired, and I’m no longer a student.”

What was he getting at with these explanations and veiled apologies?

Would he ask her out again?

Good God, but this new Marc was more dangerous to her inner peace than the playboy of the past.

By the same author: To Love A Hero: At Jasmine Jade

http://www.jasminejade.com/p-6651-to-love-a-hero.aspx?skinid=13

At Amazon.com:
http://www.amazon.com/Love-Hero-Mona-Risk/dp/1419958100/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&s=books&qid=1246660182&sr=1-1

FRENCH PERIL: At Jasmine Jade
http://www.jasminejade.com/pc-7354-35-french-peril.aspx

At Amazon.com: http://www.amazon.com/s/ref=nb_ss_b?url=search-alias%3Dstripbooks&field-keywords=French+Peril+by+mona+risk&x=16&y=20