Sunday, June 25, 2017

WeWriWa: The Love that Launched a Dozen Books - On Sale!


When it's good, it's very, very good. When it's bad, it's heartbreaking. That's when you know you've fallen for a fictional couple. When Max and Cee Cee appeared on my computer page almost ten years ago, I knew I was in for four books to tell their story, starting with MASKED BY MOONLIGHT. Fans were rabid for more but my publisher wanted to branch out with secondary characters from the "By Moonlight" world with the "Shadows" books. It wasn't until I decided to self-publish that I returned to my first fiction love, that between my shapeshifter bad boy and his NOPD detective in REMEMBERED BY MOONLIGHT. But it had been a looong time since they'd shared main pages and new readers didn't know them very well so, in keeping with where the plot had taken them, I brought my fav couple back . . . to fall in love all over again when she rescues him from the hands of their enemies only to find out they'd stolen his memories. Here's a sneak peek . . . (for the rest of the scene, skip over to Paranormal Romantics where I'm also posting today.)


The soft mist upon her face woke Cee Cee from uneasy dreams, dreams of faceless Chosen minions pursuing her through a labyrinth of hospital corridors as she pushed a gurney that held Max Savoie beneath the drape of a sheet. Just as she managed to angle them inside the safety of an elevator and close the doors upon their enemies, she pulled the sheet back to reveal, not her lover, but a mannequin with features molded to look like his.

She sat up with a gasp to glance about, heart still pounding. His scent quieted her fears, that unmistakable fragrance of masculine heat and bonding pheromones, as unique as any fingerprint.

Turning toward the open doors that let in the refreshing weather along with the cool wash of rain, she could just make out the silhouette of a figure at the porch rail. Pulse stumbling then kicking up a notch as she detailed his long lines and lonely pose, Cee Cee slipped out of bed, wearing just an oversized Saints T-shirt, and crossed the moisture-peppered floor to stand in the doorway, letting herself fill up with the sight of him. His white shirt, damp and nearly transparent, molded to the muscles beneath it. Black hair plastered to his head, as sleek as the sheets on their bed. He didn’t move but she knew he was aware of her because he now breathed through parted lips.

Nor did he attempt to evade her when her right hand covered his where it rested on the railing, fingers slowly spreading, inviting hers between them.


Now for the good part! REMEMBERED BY MOONLIGHT is only $1.99 through June 30 as part of my "From Midnight to Moonlight" price slashing tour! What a great way to jump into a great series (or two)! And . . . BONUS . . . I'm giving away a $10 Amazon gift card for some lucky tour goer. Follow this LINK to find out more. 


And if the excerpt wasn't enough to convince you, enjoy this sexy visual of REMEMBERED BY MOONLIGHT.



Happy Beginning of Summer and Happy Reading! Now, to see what my WeWriWa pals have been working on . . .


Weekend Writing Warriors is a weekly hop for everyone who loves to write! Share an 8 to 10 sentence snippet of your writing on Sunday. Visit other participants on the list and read, critique, and comment on their 8sunday posts.


Spread the word, share the love, warriors - Hashtag #8sunday.

Sunday, June 18, 2017

WeWriWa: Sink Your Teeth Into Great Reads and a Gift Card Giveaway!!


  


She walks in beauty . . . That describes the heroines from both books in my “Prices Slashed” book tour. Rae Bordon (MIDNIGHT MASQUERADE, “Touched by Midnight” vampire series- $.99!) and Charlotte Caissie (REMEMBERED BY MOONLIGHT, “By Moonlight” shapeshifter series-$1.99!) are both fiercely dedicated detectives forced to step outside the boundaries of the job to protect those they love in a world beyond anything they ever imagined. Vampires, shapeshifters . . . what’s a girl to do but hang onto her cool and wade right in like a boss.

Meet Rae Bordon in today’s excerpt. She’s undercover at a high-class D.C. nightclub offering ala carte (and other worldly) surprises to their wealthy clientele when in-over-his-head newly hired Louisiana attorney Nick Flynn recognizes her from the tragic scene of last week’s snippet’s shocking events. She’s not what he expected . . .


The surprise stopped him dead in his tracks. 

The woman from the Grovers’s house. How could he mistake those incredible green eyes? 

He hadn’t thought her particularly glamorous that first meeting where she’d looked like a long night on the Red-Eye, but here, under the muted pseudo-candle glow of the Noir, she sparkled, a jewel reflecting flame. 

He hadn’t remembered her as being particularly tall. Perhaps it was the dress, a sheath of liquid bronze cut to the navel and slit up to the hip bone, in combination with stiletto heels. The unashamedly broad shoulders bared and equal to carrying any burden, or the blazing glory of her hair, teased up to the envy of any country singer and highlighted with a dusting of winking glitter. But despite a statuesque build, the eye-popping display of bosom, legs that went on longer than most new television series and the glam clothes, there was a hint of vulnerability in the pale shade she’d chosen to shape the line of her lips, a fragility to the porcelain fairness of her skin even as it soothed over nicely defined muscle. And there was a glint of the dangerous in those constantly moving emerald eyes. 

Here was a woman he wanted to know. 

Not only in over his head, but soon to be sucked into (snort!) things way above his pay grade, things like blackmail and betrayal on a seductively dangerous preternatural level that he’s bound to in blood.

Follow along with the Tour, take advantage of the fiendishly low-priced introductions to two dark, deadly and addictive series, and enter for a chance to win a $10 Amazon Gift Card! I’ll see my WeWriWa pals next week with an intro to CeeCee from the “By Moonlight” series.



Weekend Writing Warriors is a weekly hop for everyone who loves to write! Share an 8 to 10 sentence snippet of your writing on Sunday. Visit other participants on the list and read, critique, and comment on their 8sunday posts.


Spread the word, share the love, warriors - Hashtag #8sunday.

Sunday, June 11, 2017

WeWriWa: Crisis of Conscience

I'm taking a break from PRINCE OF FOOLS excerpts as I enter my last 100 pages of the first draft, so I'm turning to a different kind of break - a break at the checkout. BelleBooks has listed a price break to $0.99 on my vampire romance MIDNIGHT MASQUERADE so I decided to double the discount with a price slash to $1.99 on REMEMBERED BY MOONLIGHT, the book that brings the Terriot clan down off their mountain to tangle in New Orleans, leading into my current "House of Terriot" series. The price drop runs from June 16-30, so I'll be using the rest of June's weekends to bring back fond memories of those two titles. Here are the deets:


There are still openings in the tour!


MIDNIGHT MASQUERADE comes toward the end of my "Touched by Midnight" series but it's a particular favorite because its hero, Nick Flynn is an attorney (as these folks still pay my weekly salary, yeah for attorneys!!) Only as Nick is invited to join a new exclusive D.C. firm, he starts having doubts about their integrity in this revealing snippet:

“Just a moment,” Grover interrupted, his voice filled with a renewed tensile strength, “I need my glasses.” He reached into his desk drawer, but instead of a 20/40 prescription, came up with a snub-nosed .38. 

Nick froze while beside him, Kaz looked momentarily startled from his smugness . . . just before Grover pulled the trigger. 

“No!” Nick cried, surging up from his chair, lunging across the desk to halt the concluding action, the report of the pistol echoed through his head even as he reared back from the dampness splattering his face. 

“Sonofabitch,” Zanlos growled, jerking the papers away before they could be contaminated by Grover’s defiant response. 

Nick collapsed into his seat, staring at the ruin of the man before him, and as he sat, dazed and disbelieving, he watched Kaz stuff a pen into the limp fingers to scrawl out an obviously practiced signature on the final page before he returned the contract to Nick’s briefcase and looked to him impatiently. 

“Let’s go. We got what we came for.” 

Nick had gotten much more than he’d bargained for. 

What kind of firm was he working for?

Okaaaay, I'm sure I wouldn't want to be notarizing that contract! Poor Nick! His heart's desire and now he's got a crisis of conscience - and he didn't even know he had one! Just wait until my heroine starts twisting those troubles tighter. Here's a look at MIDNIGHT MASQUERADE.


This time, he could lose his soul . . .

An invitation to join an exclusive D.C. law firm seems like a chance for Nick Flynn to leave his mistakes behind. But it's his shadowy past and unrealized inheritance that attracted his mysterious employers. Once embroiled in their dark schemes, his struggle for success becomes a battle for his immortal soul.

And she could lose her life . . .

Loner detective Rae Borden goes undercover as a call girl to discover the truth about her best friend's death. Her carefully laid plan of revenge and personal redemption becomes a crusade against an unbelievable evil . . . with Nick Flynn in the middle.

"Nancy Gideon is one of the best supernatural writers on the market today!"— Midwest Book Review/BookWire

Hope you all are busy writing. I know it's nose to the grindstone for me. Last 100, here I come!


Weekend Writing Warriors is a weekly hop for everyone who loves to write! Share an 8 to 10 sentence snippet of your writing on Sunday. Visit other participants on the list and read, critique, and comment on their 8sunday posts.


Spread the word, share the love, warriors - Hashtag #8sunday.

Wednesday, June 7, 2017

IWSG: There's No Quitting in Writing!


The Insecure Writers' Support Group question for the month of June is: Did you ever say "I quit?" If so, what happened to make you come back to writing?

My nearly 70-book career started back in the '80s, so I've been through just about every up and down in the Romance genre from the first bodice being torn to fifty shades of awful writing. You'd think my skin would be thick enough to upholster a city bus seat after all this time, but time and numbers isn't always a magic bullet to ward off discouragement.

For my first ten years, I'd written 33 novels without a break in multi-book contracts from three major New York publishers. Then, at the end of the '90s, publishing was hit with a decimating midlist crisis. Only seasoned bestsellers and newcomers who'd work for next to nothing could get a contract as lines folded and wholesalers disappeared. And long-producing authors like myself got the "CALL" . . . not the good kind. My agent delivered the news that my publisher wasn't offering a new contract, and, along with THAT news, she suggested we part company and wished me luck. For months, I didn't tell anyone, not even my super supportive critique group, too embarrassed, too stunned, too ashamed that I'd failed as a writer. Better to just slink away. A non-earner for the first time since my children were born, I applied for a 9-to-5 and was hired the next day. I went out to buy proper work clothes, figuring that was that. I'd given my dream a shot, had a good trajectory, but ultimately, missed the mark.

Those who know me, can probably hear me saying, "Waah, waah, waah! Get over it and get on with it!" which is exactly what my critique group said. Not that I wanted to hear it, but they finally got me to listen to my own advice. I started back with cautious baby steps with a small paranormal press and was soon selling again to one of my old New York houses. Then contracting again with a former editor's assistant who'd landed a new job with another publisher.

When self-publishing cut the legs out from under New York, and midlist took another tumble, it was hard, frustrating, and yes, tear-inducing to move forward, but my friends and readers helped my creative ego rally. I mean I was already working full-time so, why not? Why not take a chance on those dreams that continue to define me, even though no longer financially support me? What else could coax me to get up at 4:30 every morning? Only something I love.

So, on a parting note (snort!), here's my take on disappointment, if I could disco-skate . . .



Happy writing. Reach for those dreams. And while you're at it, visit my fellow IWSG pals listed below to see how they bounced back from writing a final The End.

And as a parting gift on the Wild Side, I'll be posting Thursday, June 8th as part of a week-long Facebook Event, as one of the Romance Writers Gone Wild for fun, books galore and some awesome giveaways!



Purpose: To share and encourage. Writers can express doubts and concerns without fear of appearing foolish or weak. Those who have been through the fire can offer assistance and guidance. It’s a safe haven for insecure writers of all kinds!

Posting: The first Wednesday of every month is officially Insecure Writer’s Support Group day. Post your thoughts on your own blog. Talk about your doubts and the fears you have conquered. Discuss your struggles and triumphs. Offer a word of encouragement for others who are struggling. Visit others in the group and connect with your fellow writer - aim for a dozen new people each time.


The awesome co-hosts for the June 7th posting of the IWSG will be JH Moncrieff, Madeline Mora-Summonte, Jen Chandler, Megan Morgan, and Heather Gardner!
Let’s rock the neurotic writing world!

Twitter hashtag is #IWSG

Sunday, June 4, 2017

WeWriWa: Nothing But a Gold Digger


Nothing like meeting his family and knowing you fall far, far short of their expectations. He’s a prince of a guy from a distant clan of obnoxious wealth that pridefully excludes outsiders. She has nothing to offer except a mysterious past and another man’s child. Just another of the many obstacles to a happily-ever-after our heroine in PRINCE OF FOOLS reflects upon in today's 8-10 line excerpt:


The startled look in Cale's eyes when he considered the two of them together taunted her. What made her so different than his brother's usual choice of female, the fact that she worked for a living, that she wasn't of their clan, their status, their circle? That she wore bargain clothes and colored her own hair, couldn't afford a car or a dishwasher, that she had a child and secret she wouldn't share? Or that she wasn't in any way, shape or form worthy of him?

The Terriot king was wondering if she was a gold digger out for his family's money, and she couldn't blame him. Terriot money wasn't the attraction. It was the sultry smile she received when they got to the bike and Rico fit his helmet on her head, and the way he pulled her arms tightly about his body before they left the lot. No amount of prestige or cash could compare to what she held onto.

Her every fantasy in the flesh.

Tonight, he was hers, trapped between the squeeze of her thighs as the bike's vibration buzzed through her system to jump start what was waiting . . . just the two of them, finally alone. 

Doesn't sound like they're going to let the opinion of others get in their way . . . at least, not yet.

The second the term gold digger surfaced in my text, I couldn't keep this song from playing in my head. I'm no Kanye fan but Jamie Foxx wails one heck of catchy refrain. May it get your head nodding this Sunday morning.


Having passed the 300 page mark, I'll be enjoying my Chapter 20, right after I visit your snippets.

Happy Writing and Happy Sneaking into Summer!


Weekend Writing Warriors is a weekly hop for everyone who loves to write! Share an 8 to 10 sentence snippet of your writing on Sunday. Visit other participants on the list and read, critique, and comment on their 8sunday posts.


Spread the word, share the love, warriors - Hashtag #8sunday.