Perhaps the best gift of the year

I'm over at Writer's Evolution today discussing blessings in disguise and the best gift I've received in a long time. Please stop by and say hi. :)

Solstice Seduction is out today! (yes, again)

I'm excited! Today, an expanded, re-edited version of Solstice Seduction releases from Total-e-bound! (Blurb to follow)

In other news, I'm about to crowbar my children out of bed so we can go help a friend move. I've kinda been missing the snow this winter since we've had so little, but right now, I'm thrilled. Moving with blue skies and sunshine is way better than moving in the middle of a blizzard, so thanks, weird weather pattern!

Here's the blurb - I hope you're all having a fantastic day!

Book one in the Celtic Fire Series

Is love enough to redeem the fallen?

Banished from Heaven as punishment for his sins, Taliesin has walked among humans for thousands of years. He's damned sick of it. Death would be preferable to the cultural bankruptcy of the twenty-first century, but what's a cursed immortal to do? It's not like he can kill himself.

Dr. Emerson Matthews has no clue what to do with the enigmatic, gorgeous man who has landed in the psych ward at the hospital where she works. Well, she knows what she wants to do, but it's unethical and likely illegal. Especially since he seems to be out of his mind. Why else would he claim to be a fallen angel?

Hell bent on seduction, Taliesin tempts Emerson, luring her tightly guarded passion to the surface and introduces her to sensual delights she's never dreamed of. As she learns more about the mysterious man in her care, she begins to question her own sanity as his claims of Divine origin seem more plausible with each passing moment.

Made that one myself...

So Killian was looking at a Christmas card from one of my brothers and his family.

It was signed Love, The Green's

He looked at me and said, "Love the Green's what? What are we supposed to love? I don't understand! Tellllllllllllllll meeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!"

Yep, that's the one I have. Gotta say, I'm really delighted that he knows the difference between plural and possessive.

I'm hoping that everyone has a wonderful weekend no matter what you celebrate! Wishing you peace, love, laughter and a wonderful time with the people you love!

The Weird and the Awesome

This is sort of a hodgepodge post with random bits mostly because I'm running around like a madwoman trying to get stuff done. There's nothing like trying desperately to finish Christmas gifts that still need to be mailed and write a book with a fast approaching deadline. Guh. But I digress...and whine.

First the weird, I got a package addressed to me the other day from an Irish gift catalog. I thought it was odd since I hadn't ordered anything from them, but I thought...okay, maybe it's a gift from somebody. So, I opened it up and found three linen tea towels. Three identical linen tea towels
with a map of Ireland on them.
















(For those who are wondering about the difference between a tea towel and a dish towel, here's an illustration. Dish towels are small and usually made of terrycloth. Tea towel are about twice the size and made of linen. But they're both handy for drying dishes. Tea towels are much more common in Europe, I think - you don't see a lot of them in the states. But I digress. Again.)

My immediate thought was obviously, Fwuh? Why would anyone send me three of the same thing, so I looked at the invoice for a clue as to who'd sent them. According to that handy piece of paper, I sent them to me. I double checked the address. Yep. That's where I live. I double checked the name. Yep. That was me. So confused.

So I called the company to find out WTF, and they insisted that I'd purchased the towels. I told them I was sure I hadn't. The rep insisted some more. I denied some more. Then I remembered. No, not that I'd bought three identical tea towels. I remembered the other Bronwyn Green. The same one who terrified me when I was pregnant.
.
I went in for one of those non-stress tests when I was nine months pregnant with Corwin. I gave the receptionist my name and date of birth and the following conversation ensued.

Receptionist: Right. You're having twins.

Me: The hell I am!

Receptionist: (squinting at the chart, then looking at my belly) Your due date is St. Patrick's Day, right?

Me: Right.

Receptionist: And your birthday is June 3rd?

Me: Yes.

Receptionist: (far too brightly) You're having twins.

Me: Oh hell no! I'm so not having twins!

Receptionist: (less sure of herself, holds up a chart with an ultrasound picture) See? Twins.

Me: (bursting into horrible, sobbing, pregnant tears in a waiting room full of people) But I don't want twins! I can't handle twins. Don't you understand? I have a two year old and seven daycare children at home. I can't have twins! I will absolutely lose my mind! I don't have that kind of energy. I can't do it! You can't make me!

And that's when the nurse came out and told me it was time for my test.

We finally figured out that there was another Bronwyn Green who lives in my city, was also pregnant (with twins) and who shared my birthday. I'm guessing I got the tea towels meant for her. Better than her twins, though!

On to the awesome. I got a note from an awesome reader, Marianne, a few weeks ago about Maggie's Mates and she mentioned that she hadn't known that Yooper Menage was a subgenre of erotic romance. Needless to say, I cracked up! Then I realized, Marianne may have a point - particularly since Just Right is set in the UP, too. So, go Yooper Menage!

For those who are unfamiliar with the term yooper, it refers to someone who lives in Michigan's Upper Peninsula. You might be wondering what yoopers call those of us in the Lower Peninsula. Well, I tell you. We're called trolls. 'Cause we live "under" the bridge. But I digress. Yet again.

Anyway, I just wanted to say, "YAY, Marianne! Way to coin a new phrase!"

I'm sure there will be more YMs in the future - lol!

I'm all over the freaking place - literally and figuratively!

So, today I'm off to the lovely town of Saugatuck to see a friend I haven't seen in ages. It should be fun - we're sewing new curtains for her new house. Have sewing machine - will travel. That's my motto. So anyone need any mending down while I'm on the lake shore?

I'm also visiting online friends today, too!

Just in time for holiday reading, the fantasticly awesome Chris is giving away a copy of my recently expanded re-release, Solstice Seduction from TEB. Stop by and comment to win a copy! Also, comment on Anna Mayle's contest while you're there to win one of the best damn books I've read all year!

The ever lovely Julia Rachel Barrett is also featuring Solstice Seduction on her blog and I'd love it if you stopped by and said hi!

And last, but definitely not least, fellow Michigan writer and Grand Rapids Region Writer's Group member, WS Gager is blogging about twelve writers who have impacted her writing career and I made her list. She says the sweetest things!

Derp! Wait - there's one more place! I'm over at the Writer's Evolution blog today talking about holiday traditions. Check it out for a cute, easy craft project to do with kids - makes a great grandparent present! :)

Whaaaaaaa...???

A few days ago, I at one of the local Meijer stores with Mia (if you're not familiar, think Target...with groceries) and we spotted a display of Santa Clauses. There were traditional Santas, St. Nicholas type Santas, skiing Santas, woodland Santas, fishing Santas wearing a vest and a floppy fishing hat, hunting Santas wearing camouflage holding a rifle, and then...there was this guy.

Hippie Santa.



Please note the fringed vest, head band, flower, peace symbol necklace and (weirdly patriotic) love beads.

Now, I admit, I have a certain fondness for hippies. It could be because of the guy who used to work at the daycare center I attended as a child and sang us Eagles songs on his acoustic guitar. It could be all the delicious homemade granola my mom made for us when we were little. It could even be tambourine playing-rock band groupie-skirt and scarf wearing (her collection rivaled Stevie Nicks') Aunt Malita.

However, I'm not sure how I feel about this guy. Don't get me wrong, I'm all about peace, love and understanding and also the joy of Christmas...but I think I find hippie Santa both awesome and disconcerting. Or maybe, awesomely disconcerting.

What do you think of him?

With every mistake, we must surely be learning...

EDIT: It was pointed out to me (Thanks, Jen!) that While My Guitar Gently Weeps is a George Harrison song, sooooo Beatles fail for me. But I still love it. And I feel strongly about the sentiment - I sure as hell hope we're learning anyway...

The Naughtiest Kitties Ever

Willow and Morrighan are thrilled that the holidays are here. This means their favorite jungle gym is back in the living room and available for their climbing pleasure.

Willow gnawing on the branches...nothing says Happy Holidays like a little cat drool.

Willow contemplating the best way to get to the star at the top.

Morrighan joining her sister on the next branch up.

No fragile ornaments on the tree this year...

Willow's all tuckered out from her epic climb. She actually slept in the tree the first night it was up.

Two new books out today by two of my favorite people!

Two of my favorite people Brynn Paulin and Abigail Barnette a.k.a. Jennifer Armintrout both have books out today from Resplendence Publishing!

Brynn's book, Blood of the Wolf, is the third story in her Creuntus Dragons series, and I've gotta say, it's the best one yet!


Abigail's book, Glass Slipper, is the first of her Naughtily Ever After Series and it's a hot retelling of Cinderella. I can't wait for the next one!


Both books are awesome and I highly recommend them both!!! So what are you waiting for? Go get your copies!!!

Oh, the stupid things I do...

So, a few days ago I had to stop at the bank, so I pulled up into a parking spot right in front and went inside. When I got out, I noticed a woman, standing behind my car lighting a cigarette with several shopping bags and her purse sitting on top of my trunk. I have to admit, I thought that was a little ballsy, but I ignored it, walked to the door and pulled it open only to realize...it wasn't my car! In fact, I even exclaimed, "Holy shit! This isn't my car!"

The woman didn't say, "Duh!" But she didn't have to. It was all over her face. I apologized profusely, while quickly walking to my own car which was parked next to it. She muttered. A lot. I'm not exactly sure what she said. I'm not sure I want to know.

In my defense, her car was a gray four-door. However, it wasn't even close to the same shade of gray, nor was it the same make and model. Hell, it wasn't even really the same shape. Oh well, at least I didn't get in it. That counts for something. Right?

Being Thankful

I'll be making my famous (read the only thing my family trusts me to bring) green bean casserole in a few hours and trundling off to my cousins for Thanksgiving. Holidays with my family involve anywhere from 40-70 of us cramming into one of our houses, (darn...ours is too small) eating all our favorite foods, laughing until we cry and loud, lively conversation. I'm looking forward to it. My family can be a little crazy at times, but I wouldn't trade them.

I'm sure my cousin will think it's a great idea to go around the room and talk about what we're thankful for. There are far too many things to list at the supper table, but I'll tackle them here.

Let's see...

My kids - I never knew it was possible to love anyone so much.
My hubby - He makes me laugh, pisses me off and I'm more in love with him than ever.
My family - The epitome of unconditional love - no matter what.
My friends - See above. I truly have the best friends in the world.
My kitties - Comfort, amusement and love - wrapped up in a furry purry package.
My jobs - I'm lucky enough to get to do what I love.

Those are the big ones. Then there are the other random bits I'm thankful for - in no particular order:

Baby belly laughs, dark chocolate, Starbucks, riding in cars with boys, computers, books, e-books, music, Supernatural, (no really) squirrels, Coke, baklava, JoAnn Fabrics, my favorite authors, my favorite bloggers, LOLcats, thunderstorms, my sewing machine, ren faires, wind chimes, hot tea and Welsh cakes, snuggling, sleeping in, daffodils, violets, lilacs, kitty purrs, sinks that drain, all four seasons, the internet, bats, cwtching up under a blanket, pecan pie, pumpkin pie, Squishy, my crockpot, lakes, trees, rocks, peace, acceptance and love.

This is by no means an exhaustive list - just the things that are rattling around in my brain at the moment. I hope you all are able to enjoy all of the things you're thankful for!

Happy Thanksgiving!

Riding in Cars with Boys - Part Eight

Yesterday was crazy weather wise. On my way out to school to pick up the boys, there was sleet, thunder and lightning, sunshine, torrential rain and hail. This was in the course of fifteen minutes. But, I actually managed to get to school early which was good since it was pouring rain by the time I pulled into the parking lot and hailing like mad when the kids came out of the building.

Killian: Oh my god, you're actually here early.

Not Kevin: Good timing since it seems the Apocalypse is upon us.

Me: I think I deserve a reward.

Justin: You'll get a reward when you're consistent.

Sigh. Sadly, I deserved that.

Killian: (in an abrupt change of topic) Hey lady, did you know fuck is the most versatile word ever?

Me: It is useful.

Justin: No really. We figured it out at lunch.

Killian: It can be a noun.

Justin: Or a verb.

Killian: And an adjective, like "you fucking asshat." (Yeah...that apple didn't fall far from the tree...)

Justin: Or an adverb.

Killian: Can it be a modifier?

Me and Justin: And adjective is a modifier.

Justin: Dumbass.

Killian: Derp! I knew that.

Me: It can also be an exclamation...and probably a question too, if you put enough inflection in it.

Justin: I knew your mom would be able to add to our list!

Killian: Dude, my mom's awesome. You know...sometimes.

I'm weirdly delighted that their lunchtime conversation ended up being about grammar. Also, my kid called me awesome. In public.

Weirdass Dream and Interview

Yes...I'm afraid it's that time again. Time for another unfortunate journey into Bron's subconscious.

So I woke up completely pissed off this morning, and here's why.

I dreamt that I was cleaning our ginormous walk-in closet. This thing was as big as a freaking room. I needed to hurry, because I had to be on time for a meeting with the Department of Social Services (DSS). It seems we were without insurance and I had to go down and apply.

I made it there (in time) with my carload of donations for Goodwill (I guess that's why I was cleaning out the closet) and I was told I couldn't meet with the people about getting insurance because one of the children was having a birthday party, but I could go have cake while I waited.

Never being one to turn down cake...even in my dreams...sigh...I followed the party noises into a large room. There were kids on one side of the room, very well dressed jumping on silk upholstered furniture and drinking juice out of wine and martini shaped juice-glasses and opening super expensive (and apparently unneeded - "I already have three x-boxes, mommy!") gifts.

I sat down awkwardly with some of the moms and listened to conversations about holiday vacations while everyone stared at their cake, refusing to eat it because they were too full from their cob salads. Whatevs. I ate the damn cake. While they were all discussing their vacations and the upcoming holidays, there was another group of moms and kids who were all standing outside the building in the snow and sleet watching the kids playing at the birthday party waiting for their turn to come in and apply for assistance. The non-cake eating moms sat and made snide comments while the caseworkers played on Facebook instead of letting them come in from the cold and helping them.

I ended up going home and admiring my lovely, clean, organized walk in closet and then the alarm rang. Sigh. I woke up pissed at the state of healthcare in our nation, pissed at the moms in my dream and pissed because not only do I not have a walk in closet, the one I do have isn't clean or organized. Grrrrrr.

If you've stayed with me this far, you should come and visit my kitties. Jody (aka Typing Slave) and Meankitty interviewed my cats over at their blog. I'd love it if you stopped by and said hi! :)

When the skies of November turn gloomy

In July, when we were on our family vacation in the Upper Peninsula, I drove up to one of my favorite spots on the planet - Whitefish Point. It's breathtakingly beautiful - rolling waves, seemingly endless expanses of sky and water and miles of rock covered sand.

I wandered along the beach for several hours shooting video, taking pictures and of course, picking up rocks and driftwood. As I was lugging my bag of treasures back up the beach, I stumbled across what I thought was a pile of stones and driftwood made by bored kids, but as I looked closer, I realized it was a makeshift memorial by the families of three of the sailors on the Edmund Fitzgerald - Ransom Cundy, Bruce Hudson and Thomas Bentsen.

I was a little kid when the ship sank, but I remember going to mass at my grandparents' church with my mom and gram and saying prayers for the sailors. When we moved to a city near Detroit a few years later, the radio stations would broadcast the ringing of the bells at the Mariners' Church (aka the Maritime Sailors' Cathedral) every November 10th. It was such a sad, mournful sound. Somehow, it sounded worse over late 1970s FM radio. When I came upon the memorial I stopped for a minute, the memory of those sad, static-y bells perfectly clear in my head. I added three rocks to the pile.

Even though it's been 35 years, these three men still have families that love and miss them. They don't have a grave to visit, but they have this gorgeous, peaceful spot. I'm guessing they must come to Whitefish Point fairly often since the memorial wasn't there when I was up there two years ago. I think it's a really beautiful testament to love and remembrance.

*facepalm*

So Caitlin, being the best little sister in the world, drove the boys to and from school yesterday so Matt and I could spend the day together. (Yes - he's finally home from Russia!)

The following conversation was had when she brought them home.

Cait: Well, have fun with your delinquent .

Me: Fwuh?

Cait: Corwin, tell your parents what you did at school today.

Me: Oh...god...what?

Corwin: I figured out a good way to make some extra cash.

Matt: Oh...god...how?

Corwin: Well, remember that chocolate muffin the principal gave me last week?

Me: Yeah-huh.

Corwin: And remember how I don't like chocolate Halloween candy?

Killian: Because you're a freak.

Corwin: Well, I sold it at school.

Me: You sold a week old chocolate muffin...and Halloween candy.

Corwin: And I made two dollars and twenty-five cents.

Me: *facepalm*

Killian: HA! I totally called it! I told you she'd facepalm and she just did!

Yep...those are the ones I have...

Teh random. I has it. Again.

Sooooooo, my brain has been whirling in a million different directions lately. There's been upheaval at the day job and hubby's been gone for nearly three freaking weeks! I know plenty of people who have to put up with spouses being away for way longer (I'm looking at two people in particular) but whiners gonna whine, so here I am...whining. But! He's coming home Saturday - I can't wait! :D

In school weirdness, Corwin's been working on Charles Darwin Project of Doom for weeks now. It's been dubbed the CDPoD because it's never freaking ending. He had to come up with 50 note cards all with facts to include in the term paper, and additional 15 note cards with different facts to use for his speech and Power Point presentation...which he needs to give in character and in costume. Frock coat and beard aside, the teacher informed them that she wants the paper to be a college level term paper. FWUH? These kids are in 7th grade! WTF?! Also, this project has been going on for over a month.

However, I did get a little giggle about the fact that he was assigned Charles Darwin as a topic. She confessed that all three seventh grade teachers met to assign the historical figures to the students, and they figured that we were the only family who wouldn't be gravely offended for religious reasons if Corwin got Darwin. I just don't even know what to do with that bit of info... Oh well, at least he got an A on the awful leaf project that gave us asthma attacks and gave me hives.

Trick or Treating was a great time. I continued my habit of giving extra candy to the older kids that are out trick or treating. I just think it's great that they're still out having fun. As it is they grow up way too fast and it always annoys me to hear neighbors tell them they're too old for Halloween. I call bullshit! You're never too old for Halloween. So I always tell them they're getting extra candy and why. The expression on their faces is worth buying an extra bag of candy - particularly when Betty the Biddy has already reamed them out. Screw you, Betty!

The best conversation I had was with a four year old little boy. He was trick or treating with his older sister and I'd complemented her dress. He poked his round little face around the door and the conversation went like this:

Little Boy: What about me? You like me? You like my costume?

Me: I do. It's great! I really like Dracula - he's scary!

Little Boy: Nooooooooooooooooooooooooooo! I not Dracula!

Me: You're not?

Little Boy: No! I Cra-chunkula!

Me: You're who, now?

Little Boy: I said I Cra-chunkula!

Little Boy's Dad: (finally taking pity on me) He's Count Chocula.

Me: Ooooohhhhhh. I love Count Chocula. He's way better than Dracula any day.

Little Boy: Yes I am!

God, I love Halloween! :D

Look What We Did!

Last night Killian, Corwin, Cait and I carved pumpkins and baked pumpkin seeds. Of course, Killian insisted making his seeds with bacon salt. Yeah...ewwww.

But anyway...these are our pumpkins. Corwin's are the cute little demented faces, mine is the raven, Killian's is the pirate and Cait's is Maleficent - her favorite villain. Sadly Matt doesn't have a pumpkin...'cause he's still in Russia. :(

Seussical Nightmare

Someone (I suspect Brynn Paulin) came up with the idea of telling one of our stories Dr. Seuss style over at the Writer's Evolution blog. You can read my attempt, here. It's my take on How the Grinch Stole Christmas and Mystic Circle.

Sorry, Dr. Seuss...blame Brynn.

BTW, if he decides to haunt me, I'll point him in the right direction. ;)

Introducing Anna Mayle!

I'd like to introduce you to a fabulous author - Anna Mayle. She's got her first ever release out today! It's called Bedtime Story for a Stolen Child and it's amazing! I read an advanced copy and just loved it. It creeped me out, made me laugh and made me cry. If you're looking for a new male/male author to try, get this book! Her visual imagery is absolutely stunning and I love her take on the Changling mythos!

Here's the blurb (followed by the an interview with Anna!)

Stolen away from his cradle as a child, Leinad has been a plaything of the Faerie for thirty years. He has been broken and put back together so many times that he cannot even remember what he used to be. He has given up all hope of escape, until a soft breeze through his cell leads him home, only to find out that home has gone on without him. A man with Leinad’s face is there in his place, with his siblings, acting out his life. A changeling. The creature who enabled his imprisonment and torture for all those years.

Daniel Tessel is a thirty year old folklorist. He is meeting his brother and sister at their family cabin, to spend the anniversary of their parent’s deaths together. His biggest worry is the séance his little sister is insisting on, and trying to stave off her inevitable disappointment. That is, until he looks up during the ritual to see his own face watching him from the window. He is pulled into the consequences of a plot he cannot even remember, accused of stealing his own life. Confused, angry, and frightened beyond reason, Daniel tries to escape from Leinad, but there is something pulling them together.

Revenge and passion are two very similar things. Blood sings, lust and tempers rise, and before they know it, neither is quite sure who the real monster is anymore.

Or if it will even matter in the end.

And now the interview

Tell us about a typical day in the life of Anna Mayle.

My bed is the same one a had as a kid, a twin four poster with enough layers of mattresses, toppers, feather comforters, and pillows that is feels like a nest. I wake up sunk down in warmth and surrounded by five cats who all like to sleep with me, listening to my frog chirrup in his tank and watching the sun make rainbows on the walls through the prisms hanging in the window.

After that, any day is anyone's guess. The usual is a brisk jog to work since I usually wait too long to get up, loath to disturb the kitties. I write in snatches and snippets on scrap papers at work and in blurb books which I started to carry with me to avoid talking scenes out to myself aloud (I was getting funny looks in public). I get out of work late, but even in the dark I spend some precious time working in my gardens then either run through shadow fights with my claymore, work on crafts, visit friends and family, or play video games until I've unwound enough to go to bed. Give or take a few weekends of war games and reenactments and the occasional live action role play, I have a fairly simple life. But I try to enjoy every minute of it, even in the smallest of ways.
How did your writing path evolve?

I'm not sure, honestly. It grew up and matured as I did.

What type of research do you do for your books?

It depends on the type of book. 'Bedtime Stories for a Stolen Child' required no research, I was obsessed with legends and folk lore as a child and the story of the Changelings was one of my favorites. Then there are other books like 'Such Bitter Heaven' (not a published work) that forced me to dig so deeply into the various mythos of angels that I still find myself asking questions about what I read. In that case I used mostly books and the internet.

The most recent book I've been working on though, a cop story called 'In The Shadow of His Hero', had me begging my friends to physically string me up by the wrists so I could see what it really felt like, where the pain was, and how long I could stay that way. They talked me out of it, but I'm still
curious about that one.

From what or where do you derive the most inspiration for your stories?

Odd places, the way the wind smells or the pattern a leaf makes when it falls . . . roadkill once, but that was a very disturbed short story. My inspiration comes from things I experience, even if what I write is no where near what spawned the words. Does that make any sense?

Tell us about your upcoming releases?

I'm not sure if it will be chosen to be published, but I have that cop story 'In The Shadow of His Hero' that I am hopeful about. Here is the blurb. . .

A cop dies in the city, life goes on. For one little boy though, it changed everything. Haunted by his past, Maxwell Thomas has grown up homeless and friendless. He exists in a tangle of guilt, penance and redemption. Prowling the city, the small man guards the Church District like a vigilante, trying to make up for the past, so he can possibly find some forgiveness. When he rescues the wrong rent boy though, he is pulled back into the madness that destroyed him so completely as a child. And now, there is another cop's life on the line.

Nick Kenna is a simple beat cop with dreams of being a detective. When he stumbles across a murder and the very unusual suspect, he finds himself caught, not only by the mystery of the vagrant he's apprehended, but something deeper that sparks between them.

Will Nick be able to save Maxwell, from his past and himself? Or will love be lost as the broken man fades into the shadow of his hero?

It was fun to write and I am absolutely in love with Maxwell. He's such a tragic anti-hero.

What are you working on at the moment?

I have a nameless short story in progress, but it's being difficult. It's the story of a musician who was injured in a bus accident and lost his confidence along with his ability to play the way he once had. He discovers the journal of a soldier from WWII in a used book shop and is enthralled by the mystery of who the man was, the name is blotted out by blood stains and water damage. As he reads though, a soldier begins visiting his dreams. As he dreams, they get more and more real, at times, he feels like he's dreaming even when he's wide awake. The soldier has found someone he can reach out to, and he doesn't want to let go. Once it's finished, I think it will be dark and delectable. I hope so in any case.

What do you like best about being a writer? What do you like least?

Getting the voices out of my head and onto paper, meeting them face to words as it were. Secondly I enjoy weaving plots around and molding legend, religion and philosophy in a way that all the twisted logic almost makes sense. It's fun. I think my favorite moment though, will be when I eventually (fingers crossed) hold a hard copy book in my hands with my name on it and know that I did well.

What I like least is writer's block. It strikes when you least expect it and shows it's victims no mercy.
What would you do if you weren’t a writer?

Cease to exist?

What do you enjoy doing when you’re not writing?

I love working in my gardens. Also bead, glass and wire working, leather crafts and the like. I sketch and ink when the mood hits, and music is a constant, even if only as a soundtrack to life. I enjoy role playing from Dungeons and Dragons to Vampire the Masquerade, and also contact LARPs (Live action role play) where you dress as your character, use latex or foam weapons and air-soft guns to act out another world or time or both.

Dancing is fun, and swimming. Video games are fun when I'm in the mood for them, same with television. And long walks with my little sister. We've covered eight miles and more in one go. One of these summers we plan to pack a tent and some provisions and just walk from Lansing to
wherever we are when we get bored. I just enjoy life in general, everything else is icing on an already splendid cake.

Of all of the characters you’ve created, who is your favorite and why?

Ooh, tough one. . .

Rikyu, from 'Such Bitter Heaven' he's the incarnate son of the Horseman of the Apocalypse Famine. Rikyu is so afraid of the famine his father stands for that he decides to feel everything he can, to the fullest extent, so he will never feel that emptiness. He feels so strongly that it overwhelms and fractures his mind. He's insane, but still has moments of brilliant clarity and a heart so full of love and good will that he's almost too much to take. At the same time he is a ruthless killer when provoked. The dichotomy of cuddly and deadly was precious in a creepy way.
Do you find it difficult to keep love/sex scenes fresh and interesting?

Aside from during bouts of writers block, not yet. I haven't been writing them long though.

Do you listen to music when you write or do you need quiet? If you listen to music – what kind?

Both. I use music to find the right frame of mind to write from. In 'Bedtime Story' I only used it to drown out the people around me while I was writing.

While working on 'In the Shadow of His Hero' I listened to a lot of the heavier NIN songs to find an angry place. In the soldier's story I'm working on now, I've been listening to a lot of violin music and 'Song from a Secret Garden', it's supposed to be a peaceful and relaxing song, but it always brings to mind war and struggle and bodies for me, don't know why.
What makes a man sexy?

Large hands and a bigger heart?

Do you family and friends know you write erotica – if so, how have they reacted?

Yep. Some of my friends think it's hilarious since I'm pretty much asexual. My friends have a long standing idea that one day I will self replicate to reproduce. One friend got on my website and read an excerpt from 'Betime Story for a Stolen Child'. He texted me at three in the morning to insist that I hadn't written that. He had particular trouble wrapping his mind around the fact that I used the word cock. hahaha. They're all pretty excited about it though.

My mom and grandma have a little trouble with the man on man part of things and it's spark some heated debates, while I think I've gotten mom to a stage of acceptance, I think granny is a lost cause. She likes the rest of the story but has me skip over the 'godless' parts when I read to her.
What’s your favorite food?

Mmm fruit. Watermelon, tomatoes, cactus fruit, pomegranate.

Do you have any bad habits?

I can be very shy and quiet at times. I collect shiny things like a magpie, so while it is clean, my house is also full of random bits of interest. I'm also a bit obsessive about order sometimes. I hate confrontation, so I let people walk all over me until it gets so bad I really can't take it anymore. And even though my little sister is 16 I have the bad habit of treating her like she was still twelve.
I'm sure I have more, but those are the ones I notice.

What do you like about where you live?

The trees.

If you could travel back in time, would you? If so, what time period would you visit and why?

I'd be worried about messing with the time stream, I'm enough of a SciFi fan to know that is a bad thing. If I knew there wouldn't be horrible life altering repercussions though, I'd like to go back and talk to Jesus when he was a young man, before the bible takes up on his story again. From
everything I've read, no matter what a person believes about who he really was, he always sounds like a really interesting person. I would enjoy talking to him.

I hope you enjoy getting to know Anna as much as I have!

What a freaking week...

Well, I got some sad news regarding the day job on Monday, but I'm working on finding the positive.

Also on Monday (and Tuesday) I had two pukey children. And lots of running around to do.

And Matt left at the buttcrack of dawn for Singapore. Poor guy got delayed in Hong Kong for fifteen hours, though. Since he's just coming off a shoulder surgery, this hasn't been the most comfortable trip for him. But I got to talk to him this morning, so that was great! I know it's only been two days, but, I miss the guy.

I was really stressed out yesterday afternoon, but when I got home, I was greeted by the most beautiful sight. My sister, singing along to ABBA, doing my damn dishes. I could have cried with gratitude. She did ALL of my dishes. I'm ashamed to say there were a ton. I did make her and my mom a lovely supper of Meow Loaf, though, and we all sat around and giggled.

Then, as if this wasn't enough awesome wonderfulness, she came over early in the morning picked up the boys, brought them to school, then picked them up from school, brought them all treats and rocked out with them to Bohemian Rhapsody - Wayne's World style.

Best.

Sister (and Aunt).

Ever.

An Open Letter to Microsoft

Dear Microsoft,

In addition to being a writer, I'm also an editor. It's a side job that I dearly love and keeps me incredibly busy. As a result, I use your products all the time. I recently got a lovely new laptop. it came with Word 2010.

I'll admit, I was a little apprehensive. I don't really like change, and I'm particularly uncomfortable with technological change, but I have a massive amount of work to do, so I dove right in.

The first issue I had (besides not being able to find a damn thing and having simple functions turned into multi-step processes of doom) was suddenly being unable to highlight text with my track pad and right click button. I had to do it old school with the shift and arrow keys. It was time consuming and annoying, but I managed.

However, this morning's "glitch" pushed me over the edge. Yep. Microsoft, you made me cry. I woke up to work on the manuscript I'd spent 16 hours on yesterday, only to discover that 75 comments were missing. The line edits are still in there, but comments are gone, baby gone.

My husband has already spent several hours searching online and within the program trying to restore them, but no luck. This means I get to re-edit it. Again. I'd already lost stuff when I switched from 2007 to 2010. I'm enraged. I don't have time for this shit. I'm switching back to 2007 as soon as humanly possible. Oh yeah, 2010's Help Menu blows.

So, thanks Microsoft for making my job infinitely more complicated than necessary. Perhaps next time you release a product, you may want to consider testing it a might more thoroughly.

~BG

Can I Have a Do-Over, Please?

Yesterday, I remembered that the boys needed haircuts before Corwin's school picture today. So, I took them up to the shop, got them lovely haircuts and stopped by the store to pick up a few groceries and a new shirt for Corwin to wear.

I'll be honest, the laundry is piled up as high as my elbow and I haven't had time for more than a load of here or there. Considering that in an average week, I do at least seven loads, this a horrible backlog. So the new shirt was, while not a necessity, going to help me out quite a bit.

This morning, I woke up to discover that the one load of laundry I managed to do yesterday and the new shirt had fallen on the floor...probably helped along by a kitten or two. Trying to be as quiet as possible, because I have a house guest sleeping on my couch, I picked up the laundry, only to discover that one of the damn cats had peed on it. I suspect Merlin or Herne.

Stifling my rage as best I could, I told the kids to finish (quietly) getting ready for school, while I threw it down the laundry chute raced up to Meijer. Thankfully, they're open twenty-four hours a day. I dashed into the store, found a new shirt, tried to check out, got charged twice the price marked, had to get someone to help me with a price adjustment, had to beg the guy to actually punch in his badge number to do the price adjustment after scanning his bade for the eighth time didn't work, raced home, had Corwin put on the new shirt and still managed to pick up Justin and get to both schools on time. Corwin's school picture had better turn out damn cute.

I need a nap. But instead, I'll be doing laundry. Lots and lots of laundry.

Catching up...or at least, trying to.

The last couple weeks have kicked my ass, and the end doesn't seem to be anywhere in sight.

Between epic school projects of doom, hubby's shoulder surgery and too many other things to name, I feel like I can't get anything done. Like I'm just wandering blindly from one project to the next but never accomplishing enough to call myself finished. In short, I've become my mother - who I love and admire, but yeah...these aren't necessarily the traits I'd like to emulate - lol.

But I do have some writing type news.

Maggie's Mates is currently number three overall at ARe!!!!

I got a lovely review and a reviewers top pick for Moonlit Menage from Night Owl - the first review for that book, so I was especially thrilled that the reviewer enjoyed it so much. Waiting for that first review is always nerve wracking. But it's here, if you'd like to read it.

And my last bit of news is that an expanded version of Solstice Seduction will be re-released in December, and it has a freaking gorgeous new cover! Aaaand all three Celtic Fire books will be released as a print antho (with this cover!!!) early next year!!!!

I'm super excited. Not that it wasn't painfully apparent by my overabundant abuse of punctuation. ;)

The annoying and the cool

Corwin, my youngest, has been assigned the leaf project of doom. Apparently, there are thirty-three trees that are indigenous to Michigan, and he has to find leaves from twenty-two of them. He and I spent last Sunday wandering around a local college campus, and we found most of them. We still have at least three leaves to track down, though.

This is the tree he insisted was watching me...


Last night, we sat at the kitchen table for hours, me helping him identify and him mounting the leaves and doing the write up on each one. Unfortunately, as a result of our leaf togetherness time, we both ended up with runny eyes and noses, sneezing and asthma attacks. After the doses of benedryl, singular and nebulizer treatments for both of us and hydrocortizone for my stupid hives, we've got fourteen leaves done and eight to go.

Nothing says togetherness like group allergy attacks. But we had fun. Particularly when the kittens tried to help... I'm not gonna lie. I'll be glad when it's done. The Charles Darwin project seems much less allergy inducing.

Today, my cousin and I were going through the drive-through at Starbucks, because I needed caffeine to face my day. It's a quad shot kinda day. Anyway, we reached the window, and I tried to hand the cashier my card and she told me it was already paid for. I was slow on the uptake, so she had to explain it again. Apparently, the lady in front of me decided she was going to perform a random act of kindness and paid for our order!

I've heard of people doing things like that, but I've never had it happen. It was freaking cool! So thank you random lady in the big, black SUV. My coffee was super awesome, and next time, I'll be buying coffee for the person behind me!

What a nice start to the day!

Riding in Cars with Boys - Part Seven

Well, the school year has begun, and I'm slowly adjusting to dragging my poor body out of bed at the asscrack of dawn.

I had horrible news on the first day of school - Mitchell would no longer be riding home with us - except on half days. We were all completely bummed out. Riding without Mitchell? Who would ask the obvious questions? Who would touch Justin inappropriately to get his way? Who would try to lasso mailboxes as we drove by?

Killian, Justin and Not-Kevin were as bummed out as I was. Not-Kevin missed Mitchell so much, he named his backpack Mitchell and occasionally sticks his hand inside it and makes it speak - puppet-style. Interestingly enough, the faux Mitchell actually says very Mitchell-like things.

Though it's been an adjustment not to have Mitchell with us every day, the after school rides are still entertaining beyond belief. This was the conversation that took place Friday as soon as Killian, Justin and Not-Kevin piled into the car.

Justin: Mrs. Killian's Mommy, we need a Horn o' Gondor.

Me: I hate to break it to you, but the ring has been destroyed, there's no need to call together the Fellowship.

Not-Kevin: And that's why you're the cool mom. You know of nerd-like things. But we still need the horn.

Me: So why do you need the Horn of Gondor?

Justin: Not the Horn of Gondor - the Horn 'o Gondor. There's a difference and we totally need to call together the Fellowship.

Killian: There's a quest!

Not-Kevin: We need a boat!

Me: Does this have something to do with Girl Island?

Justin: How did you know? See, Johnny-boy-D is having some trouble with the ladies.

Me: The boat was a dead giveaway. What kind of trouble?

Justin: The kind where the girl he likes is love with this dude who doesn't know she's alive and she cries on Johnny-boy-D's shoulder all the time, and meanwhile, he's going "I'm here! Pick me! I know you're alive!" but...

Me: But...he's firmly in the Friend Zone?

Justin: Exactly! And even though there are epic tales of guys who have escaped the Friend Zone, we all secretly know it's impossible. They're just myths passed down to give nerds hope. So we need the Horn o' Gondor to call together the Fellowship and venture forth to seek Girl Island, the land of hot girls who love nerds.

Me: I thought we'd established that Girl Island was college.

Not-Kevin: Dude, you can't expect us to wait that long! Besides, the island is out there. It has to be.

Me: I think we've exceeded the maximum level of melodrama this car can contain.

Justin: I bet you know where the Horn o' Gondor is and just won't tell us.

Killian: It's probably in her purse.

After convincing them that the Horn o' Gondor wasn't in my purse, I suggested that they find a hot girl who loves nerds and just ask her the way to Girl Island. I suggested Justin's older brother's girlfriend.

Justin: No can do, Mrs. Killian's Mommy. It's like once they get here, they have no memory of Girl Island.

Killian: It's a brainwashing technique to keep Girl Island from being overrun by desperate nerds in need of love.

Me: So hot girls are sent forth from Girl Island with nothing more than a vague desire to meet nerdy boys who play W.o.W. and Starcraft?

Not-Kevin: And Halo!!!

Justin: Well, when you say it like that...

Me: Okay, no more disparaging of your mythos. Who's all in the Fellowship?

Justin: Well, me, obviously, Johnny-boy-D, Other John,

Not-Kevin: Me! Me! But not your kid.

Me: Killian can't be part of the Fellowship?

Justin: A.) He already has a girlfriend who's been brainwashed and can't tell us the way back to Girl Island and B.) I think said girlfriend would be very upset if Killian joined the Fellowship.

Killian: Uh...yeah. That would so not be cool.

Not-Kevin: Plus, that would just be greedy. Are you sure the Horn o' Gondor isn't in your purse?

I'm seriously tempted to make them a horn and bring it to school one of these days.

Post Conference Sum-up

I can't believe I've been home from the Authors After Dark conference for a week and this is the first time I've been able to blog. The day job sort of exploded upon my return, so now I'm trying to get time sensitive projects put to bed so I can get back to writing.

But, I'll do a brief recap. As always, the best part of conference is spending time with my awesometastic friends. Brynn Paulin and I flew out on the 15th, met up with Mia Watts and Carol Lynne at the airport. We made our way back to the hotel, got our stuff dragged up to the rooms and then waited for Kris Norris. And waited. Hit the bar. And waited. Sent Mia's terribad drink back. And waited. Our favorite Canadian girl had some transportation issues.

But she finally arrived and I was soooooooooooooooooo happy. I've been waiting to meet her in person for well over a year which is a long freaking time in internet time. If you're talking online to someone almost every day and on phone a lot, a year is a longass time to wait to meet. You know how sometimes you meet people in person that you've only corresponded with and it's weird and awkward? Meeting Kris in person was the polar opposite of that. We all loved her - how can you not? And it was like she'd been in our circle of friends forever. It was the same way when I met Mia and Carol. Instant awesomeness.

But I digress, after Kris got there, we all went out for supper and then collapsed in our hotel room because the next day was our awesome trip to New York. Brynn, her husband and I went a few years ago and had an amazing time, so I was thrilled to go back. We hit the usual spots, Times Square, Battery Park, Central Park, the Staten Island Ferry to see the Statue of Liberty, accidentally rode the subway to the Bronx - which ended up being perfect timing because a huge thunderstorm blew in, but we were able to wait it out on the train. There was lots of people watching to be had - the bitch who felt it was her public duty to publicly mock overweight people, the adorable nerdy guy running his lines for a show (I hope you got the part, dude!) and the homeless man hiding under a hoodie who broke our hearts. Mia, very sweetly, left her granola bars with him.

I think my favorite parts of the day were the carriage ride around Central Park and the ferry ride back to New York where we met a sweet and very funny guy named Jose - nickname, Joey - pronounced Hoe-y. Joey was hilarious and we had a fantastic time laughing our asses off all the way back to the dock.

It was after ten by the time we finally got back to New Jersey. We went out to supper and apparently, I fell asleep at the table. I don't remember this, but Brynn insists that I did, and I believe her. I was soooooooo tired - we all were. Mia, Kris and I went back up to our room to find Jennifer Armintrout collapsed on of the beds and delirious with exhaustion. Poor baby had her plane diverted to Allentown, PA where she sat on the runway for three hours.

Friday was the official beginning of the conference. I only went to a couple panels - mostly because I was too busy talking to people. But I met some fantastic writers and readers. At the supper where Mia had her close encounter with the sex therapist, we briefly met Soyna Bateman. We got to know her better the next day and discovered that she's amazing. She's smart, funny and just an all around great person. She writes urban fantasy and mm. My husband keeps threatening to take the UF book away from me. I keep telling him that I get to read it first, so hands off. However, if I continue to be swamped, I might have to give in.

The book signing on Saturday was great. Got to sit between Brynn and Jen and Sonya was kitty corner to us, so lots of fun was had. After the book signing, Brynn, Kris, Mia and I had our suite party. We gave away a sony e-reader, 20 ebooks, 10 signed print books and plenty of swag. All things considered, I think it went quite well. A lovely couple from Canada won the grand prize and everyone else went home with a print book.

With a few exceptions, it was a fantastic conference. I can't wait to go next year!

These are just a few of my favorite pictures from the trip. This is a gorgeous mosaic in one of the subways.

This is the John Lennon memorial in Central Park.

I don't know what this building is, but it overlooks Ground Zero. I got chills when I noticed what was in the windows. Using religious symbols, it says: Coexist. (C
lick on the photo to embiggen.)
A view of the city from the Staten Island Ferry.

The adorable Stella Price all dressed up for the 'come as your favorite literary character' party.
The lovely Jennifer Armintrout dressed as the Scarlet Pimpernel's wife...whose name escapes me.
The fantastic Leanna Renee Hieber dressed as her character, Percy Parker. This costume was amazing!
Our contest winners, Dave and Peggy celebrating at the party.

Things That Shaped This Warped Little Mind

Over at Writer's Evolution, we've been talking about teachers to whom we'd like to say HA! Or, in my case, Bite me!

Come on over and find out how I became the Bride of Satan.

Holy Crap - Only 24 Hours Left!

Soooooo, it's getting down to the wire and I haven't packed a damn thing for the Authors After Dark Conference in New Jersey.

Most of it will be no big deal in terms of throwing stuff together. Some of it will require an archeological dig in my office. Yeah, never did get around to cleaning it this summer. Today, I'll pay for that transgression. Sigh...

I'm looking so forward to hanging with Brynn, Mia, Carol, Jen and finally meeting and hanging with Kris, too! It's gonna be AWESOME. I promise, there will be pictures and likely embarrassing stories upon my return. If I get a few minutes and the internet doesn't cost a small fortune, I'll try to pop on during the conference.

In the meanwhile, the fanfreakingtastic Chaos Chris is kindly running a contest for a copy of my latest release, Maggie's Mates. If you'd like a chance to win a copy, please stop by her blog, Stumbling Over Chaos, and enter!

Also, there are cute kitteh pictures there. You should go see. :)

Teh random. I has it.

I've discovered something important yesterday afternoon.

Dark Warm Blonde hair color is definitely not the same as Medium Warm Blonde hair color.

I thought I'd freshen up my hair before the AAD conference next week, and quick dyed it before I picked up the kids from school. I thought it looked a little dark, but I was in a hurry, so I left with wet hair. It dried on the way to school, but I still didn't really notice how dark it was until Killian, Not-Kevin and Justin got in the car.

Justin: (in a faux whisper) Hey, Killian. I think Mrs. Killian's Mommy did something to her air.

Not-Kevin: Mrs. Killian's Mommy, did you do something to your hair? We're boys and we don't typically notice stuff like this, but it seems like chemicals were involved.

Killian: You have dye on your face. Way to fail.

Normally, I go with the medium warm blonde which turns out to be a light reddish brown. I now have dark auburn hair. I'm getting used to it, and kinda liking it.

I'm also getting used to doing dishes in two plastic basins on my kitchen table. I'm not liking this at all. Not even a little.

My freaking kitchen sink has been backed up for almost a week with several inches of standing water. Nothing's worked - snaking, drain cleaner, plunging. Matt hasn't had time to take apart the pipes, and I'm not about to because I have a very bad habit of making things worse.

It's a gift.

So...hopefully this weekend he can fix it, because the plastic basin thing? Not cutting it.

Cait saw the backed up sink the other day and said, "Oh...creating your own West Nile Virus water feature?"

Bitch.

Sigh...Sixteen *sob*

It's Killian's birthday, today. He's 16.

I was foolishly looking through baby pictures - foolish, because now I'm feeling like a bit of a sad panda that my boy has gotten so old so quickly. I blinked and he went from wearing his Harry Potter robes everyday and flying around on his broomstick to texting his girlfriend (!) constantly.

I'm acutely aware of the fact that there are plenty of parents who would give anything to see their children turn 16 and never will, so I refuse to be depressed about it. I'm lucky to have this great kid. He very rarely gives me grief about anything, he's pretty helpful, he's kind and funny and sarcastic. He's pretty much the perfect kid for me. Note: I didn't say perfect - just perfect for our family. I feel incredibly lucky to have gotten this one.

This is Killian at about 18 months (and my mama). Whenever my mom comes over, the first thing she does is put the kettle on the stove for tea. Doesn't matter if it's winter or summer - there must be tea. When Killian was little, she'd always share her tea with him. In fact, as soon as she'd walk in, his little face would light up and he'd run to the kitchen gate babbling, "Grammywansometea." Which translates to "Grammy want some tea?" We still joke that Grammywansometea is her Native American name.

Damn...I still need to make cake!

Maggie's Mates is out today!!!

I've had a lot of people ask me if Lucas and Quinn, two secondary characters, from Just Right, would ever get a story of their own. The answer to that has been, "Yes, as soon as I can get around to it."

Well, I got around to it, and their story releases today! Maggie's Mates is available now at Resplendence Publishing! I'm so excited! (as evidenced by the abuse of exclamation marks!)

Here's the blurb:

Having recently ended a bad relationship, Maggie Ryan returns to her hometown in Michigan’s Upper Peninsula to discover things aren’t quite the way she remembers. Her childhood friends, Quinn and Lucas Makwa, are all grown up and keeping secrets. The shape-shifters want Maggie for their mate, but she’s not sure she wants to trust another man—let alone two that can shift into black bears at will.

And an excerpt:

Trapped in Quinn’s heated gaze, Maggie couldn’t look away. Hell, she could barely remember to breathe.

“I don’t think that scene at the diner was an act for Jason’s benefit,” Lucas commented, trailing a path down her forearm with his fingertip. “Maybe it was when you started it,” he amended. “But I think you forgot about him pretty quick.”

Maggie’s stomach dropped to her feet as she teetered atop the highest hill she’d ever climbed. But she couldn’t bring herself to push them away or to move. She couldn’t deny it. Her panties were still damp from the experience.

“I’m guessing,” Quinn began, his voice like dark velvet, “that now you can’t help but wonder what it would be like.” His lips quirked. “You always were a curious one.” He toyed with the seam of her jeans, tracing the fraying line of fabric near her knee and sending tendrils of need coursing through her.

Lucas’ lips brushed the outer shell of her ear. “Are you curious now, Maggie?”

Her lips parted. She wanted to speak, but no sound came out. Somehow, she found the strength to nod her head.

Quinn’s lips curved in a near-feral grin that sent nervous energy coiling through her middle. “Me, too.”

She couldn’t have looked away if she’d wanted to.

“So am I,” Lucas murmured as he pressed a kiss to the sensitive skin behind her ear.

Her breath caught in her chest as the arousal she’d pushed aside earlier came rushing back. Her nipples beaded, and her breasts ached to be touched. Her folds dampened as she remembered the sensations of their erections pushing against her. She wanted their hands on her. She wanted their mouths on her. She wanted to know what it felt like to take both men at the same time. At least once in her life, she wanted to know what it was like to be truly desired.

But was that a mistake? Reality and guilt niggled their way into her thoughts.
“I-I don’t know if this is such a great idea. I don’t want to ruin our friendship, and you need to know, I’m not looking for anything permanent. Not after Jason.”

“Jason’s an asshole,” Lucas bit out. “Forget about him.”

Quinn shot his brother a look. “Let us help you forget him.”

That's Right...Vampire-Pirates, Baby!

I'd like to introduce you all to my dear friend, Jen/Abigail. No, she doesn't have MPD...although, sometimes I wonder. She's got a brand new writing persona for her fanfreakingtastic erotic romances.

To celebrate the release of her first ever erotic romance, I've interviewed Jen/Abigail AND she's giving away a .PDF of her new Vampire-Pirate romance, Ravenous, available here from Samhain Publishing. Just leave a comment here and feel free to ask questions. (Leave a comment by 9/9/10 at 8pm)

Bio: The alter-ego of USA Today Bestselling Author Jennifer Armintrout, Abigail Barnette was born during a conversation with author Bronwyn Green, who encouraged Jennifer to develop an elaborate fantasy persona-- complete with nom de plume-- under which to pen erotic romance. Abigail enjoys long naps in fairy-filled glades, running through corridors in tragically romantic haunted castles, and drinking goblet after goblet of spiced wine.

What to know more about the wonder that is Jen/Abigail? Read on, dear readers!

Tell us about a typical day in the life of Jennifer Armintrout/Abgail Barnette.

Jennifer wakes up in the morning feeling like P. Diddy, but that feeling immediately fades when she remembers she has two kids to run around after and a stack of dishes to clean. Luckily, the children are trained to worship the television so she can get some writing done. And by writing, I mean trolling internet forums. Abigail's day is much different. She wakes up in the morning feeling like P. Diddy, and the feeling lasts all day.
What type of research do you do for your books?

Very little. I generally will get an idea in my mind for a setting or a time period, then flip through a few websites to get a general feel, and then if a specific question comes up, I try to find the answer. The best thing about the "historical" stuff I'm writing as Abigail is that it's very, very velour. I don't have to know how to bake bread in a stone hutch or something.
From what or where do you derive the most inspiration for your stories?

Abigail's stories come from a very naughty place in my brain that will look at a historical gown and think, "I bet it would be hot to get f***ed wearing that.

Tell us about your upcoming releases.

September 7th I have Abigail's first book, Ravenous, coming out from Samhain, and that's a story about hot vampire on human romancing on a pirate ship. Pirate vampires. Then in November, I think, I have Glass Slipper coming out from Resplendence. That one is just what it sounds like, a retelling of Cinderella in which a beautiful, but impoverished, maiden is trained by her weathly, handsome godfather to be a perfect seductress in the hopes that she'll snag the prince by the... nose.
What are you working on at the moment?

Right now I'm working on the first in a planned trilogy of steampunk erotica set in a kinky Victorian sex club. What do you like best about being a writer? What do you like least?

The thing I like best is being able to work from home. I can wear my pajamas, I can have a beer at ten in the morning and I don't have to hide it in a thermos. It's pretty much the most awesome job I can think of. But the downside is the crippling doubt. You're trying to entertain your reader, and it's a very strange feeling, kind of like being a stand-up comic or something, worrying about whether or not people will boo you.
What would you do if you weren’t a writer?

Yikes, I don't even want to think of such a possibility. I'd have to go to college.

What do you enjoy doing when you’re not writing?

Sleeping. It's not a sexy answer, but there, I said it. I love naps.
Of all of the characters you’ve created, who is your favorite and why?

Oh, that's very difficult, because they're all likable to me, in some way. I think my favorite character I've written as Abigail is Julien Auvrey, from the upcoming Glass Slipper, because he's just a bit past his prime and trying to deal with the fact that people don't see him as the dashing young rake anymore.
Do you find it difficult to keep love/sex scenes fresh and interesting?

As a good Catholic girl, I should say yes, but that would be a lie. I'm consistently shocking myself with what I come up with!
What genre of books least appeals to you and why?

True crime. I just can't deal with that kind of grimness. I read for escape.

Do you listen to music when you write or do you need quiet?

If you listen to music – what kind? It depends on the project I'm working on. Right now, writing in a steampunk setting, I'm listening to a lot of industrial music and gothic type bands, like Rasputina. Over the summer I was writing American Vampire for Mira, and that involved listening to so much Bruce Springsteen that I actually have dreams that we're besties. What makes a man sexy?

Besides a huge cock? I would say his voice. I'm attracted to a person's voice before I'm attracted to anything else about them.

Do you family and friends know you write erotic romance – if so, how have they reacted?

I come from a very strict Roman Catholic upbringing, so when I announced that I was writing erotica, I might as well have sat them all down and forced them to watch a homemade porno I'd done, or something. Now, though, they're getting quite interested, waiting to see how much money is involved and how many books I'll actually write for this market.
If you were stranded on a desert isle, what five things would you want to have with you?

As it just so happens, this is a recurring fantasy of mine. I would like to have my laptop, wifi access, my books, a vibrator, and a teleporter so I can leave when I want.

If you could travel back in time, would you? If so, what time period would you visit and why?

Does it have to be actual history, or can it be romance novel history? Because I would love to snag a sexy knight in the middle ages, but not the real middle ages, with lice and disease.

On to Ravenous.

Blurb: One man claims her by day, another by night. Together they lay claim to her heart.

Annabelle Whittington sails toward Jamaica, and marriage to a wealthy plantation owner, on winds of hope. Hope that she hasn’t saved her virginity only to be doomed to proper English wifehood, never to fully satisfy her sexual curiosity. Then the sails of the pirate ship Howling Hades appear on the horizon.

Captain Galerius’s demands are simple: in exchange for her blood to slake his eternal thirst, and her body to quell his voracious lust, he will guarantee safe passage. Except his motives are less than pure. In his hold is another prisoner, Ian Drummond, who must soon be replaced…with Annabelle.

But Ian has plans of his own, and they don’t include giving up his lover so easily. And, once he gets a taste of Annabelle’s sweet blend of innocence and boldness, he can’t imagine living without either one of them.

Annabelle, sensing the tortured soul beneath the monster, refuses to let Galerius intimidate her—and finds an unexpected ally in the infuriating, maddening Ian. As danger threatens the Hades, she is faced with a choice. Return to her life of duty, or embrace her spirit of adventure…and sail the high seas with the men who have captured her heart.

Want a steamy hot excerpt? Who am I kidding, of course, you do!

(although this does require a bit of set-up. Drummond and Annabelle are prisoners of the vampire pirate captain Galerius, who has put a spell upon them so that their presence will not be noticed by the crew):


Annabelle looked around them. The crew swarmed everywhere. As one sailor hurried past her with a bucket of hot tar, she had to sidestep him. “Right here?”

“Why not?” Drummond began unfastening the cuffs of his shirtsleeves, the presumptuous... Annabelle struggled to think of the worst word she could imagine. The presumptuous ass!

“They can’t see us,” he continued, pulling the loose ties at his collar free. “They can’t hear us. And you have to admit, the thought of it arouses you. Your breath has quickened, your throat is flushed. Those beautiful gray eyes are practically glazed over in anticipation.”

He mistook her flush for desire, when it was one of anger. “You think an awful lot of yourself. Why would I lie with you? Simply because you’re the only man available?”

He smirked. “Not because I’m the only man available. You’ll lie with me because you want me.”

“Your opinion of yourself is rather high.” Though her fingers trembled, they strayed to the ties at her sleeves. She loosened one, then the other, then reached for the ribbons that crisscrossed at her bosom. She pulled one tail of the bow at the top, slowly, enjoying the way Drummond’s hungry gaze followed her every movement

“If you won’t lie with me,” he asked, pulling his shirt over his head, “then who?”

She pulled her arms free of the bodice of her gown and let it slip to the deck at her feet. Exposed to the chill air, her nipples puckered and her skin turned to gooseflesh. Well, it was partly from the chill air. A rush of heat flooded her core, and her knees went weak at the thrill of being so exposed, before so many people. Even if only Drummond could see her, the effect was heady. She slid one hand over the tops of her breasts, then down the valley between them, over the soft plane of her stomach. Every inch her hand covered, Drummond covered with his gaze, and she teased him, running her fingers across the top of the tightly curled hair on her mound.

Drummond grinned. “Lovely. Come here.”

She shook her head and backed away slowly. From the corner of her eye, she glimpsed the men working at patching the canvas. The sail was stretched out on the deck, the sailors kneeling around it. The most encouraging, wicked thrill shot through her.

“What are you doing?” Drummond asked, following as she approached the edge of the sail.
She dropped to her knees and timidly placed one hand on the material. None of them seemed to notice, and she gave it a little tug, just to make certain they would not. She climbed onto it, holding her breath, certain something would happen to force them to see her. But the men did not. They kept working.

Drummond gave a laugh. “You’re right, you are rather adventurous, aren’t you?”

She turned on her back, propped on her elbows, but she said nothing. When Drummond fell to his knees and crawled forward, she stopped him with a foot against his chest. “I told you, I won’t lie with you.”

His face fell, and Annabelle almost laughed at his crestfallen expression, as though he were a little boy who’d been denied a puppy. Then that expression changed to another insufferable smirk. “You’re teasing me.”

“You’ve only just caught on?” She scooted back and laid flat, her heart pounding wildly in her chest. On either side of her, the sailors worked at their task, their hands moving just inches from her naked body. They could not see her, could not hear her, but if they touched her...

The fear of discovery only heightened her arousal, and her body ached as she smoothed her hands across her breasts, her belly, her thighs, but she did not touch where she so very much wanted to. If she had learned anything from Drummond, it was that delaying pleasure brought greater gratification.

She closed her eyes and imagined the men’s hands on her, faceless, nameless bodies brushing against her. She let her knees fall open, and Drummond made a strangled noise.
She paid him no mind, but slid her palm over the gentle rise of her stomach, inching lower to cup her mound. Her folds were already slick. She dipped her fingers into the wetness and brought them to her mouth, opening her eyes to watch Drummond as she tasted herself on her fingers.

“I take it back,” he said, wetting his lips. “You have plenty of imagination.”

She laughed and let her eyes fall closed again as she touched herself in earnest, pulling more slick heat from her core. Lost to the heady thrill, she bucked her hips against her hand and rolled her sensitive nub between two fingers. With a groan, Drummond tried again to move closer, and she stilled her hand.

“Will you show me?” she asked, panting, as he crawled over her.

“Show you what?” He gripped the base of his cock, hard and eager for her, and braced himself over her, the tip of him just brushing her mound.

“What it’s like to lie with two men.” It took all of her self-control not to reach for him, to slide him home.

His face was unreadable. A muscle twitched in his clenched jaw. Finally, he nodded.
When he did, Annabelle squirmed from beneath him and climbed to her feet.

Drummond stared up at her, still holding his cock, confusion creasing his brow. “What are you...wait...”

“Tonight,” she promised, and strode away, scooping up the discarded gown. Her body still burned for release, and she planned to have it, locked safely in the cabin where Drummond could not follow.

Want more? Of course you do! Go pick up your copy here!