Sunday, March 18, 2018

WeWriWa: Return of the Traveler . . .


Absence provides a step back, bringing the calm assessment one can't always achieve when in the thick of things. Having just returned from seven days in Arizona, a mini-retreat of mind and body from daily toil and frantic busyness, I can appreciate that zen of hindsight just as my hero, Connor Amberson does in this excerpt from my new re-release, SWEET TEMPEST.

None of this was as he'd planned. His stay in London was torture, so sure he'd been that she'd relent and beg him to come home to her. But as weeks went by and no word came, he grew more and more agitated, beginning to fear he'd made a terrible error. And when the missive came, its contents were not what he'd wished for, but was the excuse he needed for his pride to bend.

He'd prepared for two kinds of welcome: The fierce anger of a wronged wife, which he planned to quell after an exciting match of wills or, one of passionate apology, which he'd have accepted without reserve, but she'd outflanked him with this cool, indifferent demeanor, holding him at bay without giving him reason to protest. And then there was the matter of the closed door between their rooms. He rolled onto his stomach, eyeing that offensive portal with a jaundiced eye. He could demand she move into his room, he had the right, but his pride rebelled against resorting to force, and more truthfully, he had no wish to push her into something she found disagreeable.

If one good thing had come from his hermitage in London, it was the realization that Tempest Swift Amberson was permanent, the only woman he would want or need for the rest of his life, sharing his home, bringing his children into the world, growing old beside him. 

He knew how to seduce a mistress, but how did one woo his own wife?



Has he truly learned his lesson, discovering the jewel within his grasp instead of being blinded by the dazzle of greed and jealousy? We shall see.

As for me, my trip was part awe-inspiring research in Sedona. . .


. . . hurried hand-selling at the Tucson Festival of Books . . .


. . . and finally Vitamin D R&R poolside. I didn't get all the writing done that I wanted to but I found that clarity of vision I'd been searching for to pull my book together and re-establish my long-game writing plan. Worth the delays in Chicago O'Hare (both going and coming home!) and cursing daylight savings time. Now, to get back into the rhythm of my working and writing and resting life. And back into my shunning cats' good graces (Ed's Efffing cat would be proud of their snubbery!).

How's spring treating you, fellow Warriors?


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, March 4, 2018

WeWriWa: New (Re)Release! Regency-Set SWEET TEMPEST!

  

30 (!) years ago, I celebrated the release of my very first book, SWEET TEMPEST, a historical romance set in the Regency era, written under the pen name Lauren Giddings. There were balloons and chocolates at signings at Barnes & Noble and B.Dalton (RIP!) with my Mom and family (the youngest of my two sons I delivered on the same day I got to see my cover flats for the first time in the hospital!) and a reporter from the local paper. It was a BIG deal. After 72 more releases . . . it still doesn't get old!!

SWEET TEMPEST is Baaaack! With a fresh edit, a gorgeous cover and a new publisher, Tell-Tale Publishing, and I couldn't be more excited by the chance to re-visit and (re)introduce the characters.



I'm sharing an excerpt that lays out the hero and heroine's relationship through her younger brother's disapproving eyes. Not much slips by that boy . . .


Eddie remained, silent and disapproving at her side, feigning resistance when she put an arm about his shoulders.

"I don't like this, Este," he said in a rush, "and I don’t trust him to keep his word.” 


"Eddie, I've nothing to fear from Mr. Amberson." 

"He ain't no gentleman!" 

"I didn't say he was, but I do trust him and know he'd do me no harm, so please don't worry so," she pleaded, holding tightly to him. "If he can keep us from having to steal to stay alive, then you should thank him, not curse him." 

"I don't like how he looks at you," he grumbled, "all hungry-like, the way the coves ogle the fancy women . . . I don't think he's . . . safe." 

She laughed to ease his fears, though she knew he had cause. "Little brother, you don't like any man to look at me, but I can't hide in britches all my life." 

"Well, you don't have to look back," he muttered, "'cause he ain't the only one who looks hungry."




Nothing like a fresh coat of paint to make something old new again and bring it back to life!



Happy Writing fellow Warriors! I'm off for the Tucson Festival of Books and some vacay (with my WIP, of course!)


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.