Monday, August 8, 2011
All About Me Monday
What I’m reading…
The downside of being a writer is you have so little time to do your other favorite thing: Read!
After sending in my revisions (and a bunch of title suggestions) for Book 6 in my BY MOONLIGHT series, I gave careful thought to the huge box of books I had shipped back from the 2011 RWA conference in NYC, and at my recent Kindle downloads on my IPad. What should I pick? What was I in the mood for? Paranormal? Suspense? Urban Fantasy? The Steam Punk I promised I’d check into? Maybe something I hadn’t visited for a while…some old love I’d neglected for far too long…
Ahha! There is was! The book one of my NYC roomies autographed for me.
Eileen Dreyer is a fabulous storyteller. Just get her into an Irish pub with a gin, three ice cubes and a dill pickle spear and she’ll have you enthralled for hours.
Or, if you’re really lucky, share a room with her, whether it be at a Marriott or a grimy dormitory at a writers’ retreat just for the joy of listening to her varied discourses on politics, her favorite drinking songs, her time as a trauma nurse, or ghost stories. And don’t forget the duck! My Mid-Michigan RWA chapter is fortunate enough to have her as our 2012 speaker in April and I know whatever she chooses to talk about will garner a rapt audience.
Hopefully she’s forgiven me for trying to steal one of her RITA pins off her name badge (heck, even one of her finalist pins would have been fine!). She had so many, you’d think she wouldn’t miss one. But after her careful research stints for her suspense novels, she probably had them booby trapped with pressure sensitive exploding dye packs. I was just trying to save your back and shoulders from succumbing to the stress of bearing all that weight, Eileen! To further placate her, I’m going to gush about her latest book, not a suspense, which I also adore, but a historical Regency, my first love!
Never a Gentleman is one of those rare books the time-impaired reader delights in. It grabs you from the first sentence: The room stank of whiskey, sweat, and despair. All right! I am so down with this book already! I fell in love with the hero, the elegant, supposed wastrel Diccan Hilliard in that initial scene. But wait…it gets better. Then I met the heroine. Miss Grace Fairchild isn’t your typical delicate Regency flower of femininity. She isn’t your typical anything. She’s unique: a campaigning soldier’s daughter, tall, plain, and outspoken, who instead of falling into vapors when accosted by highwaymen, calmly puts a bullet between one of the villain’s eyes. I confess, I’m only halfway through the book, but I’m totally caught up in the marriage of convenience between these two honorable and awkwardly in love and lust characters. Then, throw in the intrigues of the time and two wonderfully drawn sets of relatives…and I can’t wait to get back between the covers again.
No one tells a story like Eileen Dreyer. And after finishing this one, I’m going to find Barely a Lady and let her tell me another one.