Happy New Year, sixers!
Another sampling from Headstrong (aka the New Zealand love-triangle book) which came out this past week from Samhain. The basic deal: Libby has an unrequited crush on Reece; Reece's brother Colin has an unrequited crush on Libby. Libby (who's just slightly crazy and rather persuasive) has fast-talked Reece into acting as her supposedly platonic kissing instructor, as a teenage trauma has left her skittish around men. Reece doesn't know she's actually nuts about him, and that he's the first man she's wanted to be sexual with in over a decade.
She knew this mouth well now—knew it with more fondness and intimacy than any other mouth on the planet, and it was the only one she wanted to know. This kiss was different than the ones they’d been practicing all week. Reece was kissing her with a different motive now, aiming to give her pleasure, not instruction.
Libby hadn’t known a kiss could do this. It made her feel that blush again, between her legs, the way seeing him helplessly turned on a half hour earlier had. She let herself surrender to it, let her mouth do whatever it wanted right back, let her hands roam wherever they wished.
Thanks for swinging by, everyone! Now head here to check out all the other Six Sentence Sunday excerpts this week.
Showing posts with label Samhain. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Samhain. Show all posts
Sunday, January 1, 2012
Tuesday, December 27, 2011
Release Day!
Libby Prentiss is ready to simply be herself. After half a lifetime rebelling against her privileged family’s expectations, she hopes her biological research trip to New Zealand will cut the cord for good.
It doesn’t take long to spot the hopelessly amateurish spy her overprotective father has hired to keep an eye on her. Fortunately, Reece Nolan’s desperation to save his family’s pub makes it all too easy to convince him to turn double-agent. Yet there’s something different about him. His icy reserve sets her on fire…and ignites a secret yearning to let him see the mass of insecurities she hides behind her provocative persona.
Where Reece is a glacier of cool self-control, his brother Colin is a hot-blooded, unpredictable volcano. Libby’s instant friendship with Colin is more satisfying than anything she’s ever known—and traps her in completely foreign territory. She’s caught between one man determined to hold her at arm’s length, and another who offers her the intense connection she’s worked so hard to avoid.
Something’s got to give or the fallout could tear them all apart…and put the Nolan family’s future in serious jeopardy.
If you'd like to read an excerpt, you can find one on the book's Samhain page. Thanks for your attention! We will return to the Kung Fu reviews and creepy man-lusting and recipes shortly.
Sunday, December 18, 2011
Six Sentence Sunday #17
This week I thought I'd pretend I'm remotely good at self-promo, and share six sentences from my December 27 Samhain romance release, Headstrong (aka the New Zealand love-triangle book). The basic deal: Libby Prentiss has an unrequited crush on Reece Nolan; Reece's brother Colin has an unrequited crush on Libby. Colin is bartending at the Nolan family's pub, and Libby is sitting across from him.
From where he leaned against the back counter, Colin flung a coaster at Libby that bounced benignly off her forehead. She raised her chin to fix him with a stare, and her wide lips twisted into a haughty smirk. Colin was willing to bet this was exactly how her face would look as she coaxed the zipper down the front of his jeans.
“Don’t make me hurt you, Nolan.”
He flashed her an unapologetic grin. God, if only.
Thanks for swinging by, everyone! Now head here to check out all the other Six Sentence Sunday excerpts this week.
From where he leaned against the back counter, Colin flung a coaster at Libby that bounced benignly off her forehead. She raised her chin to fix him with a stare, and her wide lips twisted into a haughty smirk. Colin was willing to bet this was exactly how her face would look as she coaxed the zipper down the front of his jeans.
“Don’t make me hurt you, Nolan.”
He flashed her an unapologetic grin. God, if only.
Thanks for swinging by, everyone! Now head here to check out all the other Six Sentence Sunday excerpts this week.
Sunday, October 30, 2011
Six Sentence Sunday #10
Greetings again, my sixy beasties! And happy All Hallows Eve's Eve to you all. We take Halloween wicked serious here in Salem, Massachusetts (aka Spookytown, USA) so I was thinking I ought to source a Halloween-themed six this week. Well, it turns out I've only written a single story thus far that references the holiday (don't give me that look, Ruthie Knox—the weird-ass WIP doesn't count yet), so you're stuck with this little excerpt from my 2010 Golden Heart finalist book (since published by Samhain) The Reluctant Nude:
Sex—sex sex sex.
That was all Fallon could focus on or remember in the following two weeks. Somewhere in her periphery a statue was taking shape, meals were being cooked and eaten, a yellow and black scarf was growing longer and longer between her fingers. Sun was shining or wind was howling or the moon was rising or falling. Beach grass and birch trees were changing color, she suspected, but the only thing she was aware of was Max: sitting beside her, standing across the studio from her, lying beneath her back in a bathtub by the fire, buried deep inside her body in his bed once the sun went down.
Addict, she thought to herself accusingly, watching him from across a display of pumpkins in the co-op market one afternoon, three days before Halloween…
Thanks for swinging by, ghouls and boys! Now head here to check out all the other Six Sentence Sunday excerpts this week. Happy Halloween!
—Meg
 |
Oh hai, Romain Duris! That's a very convincing glare, but you're still in a tight race with Max when the book is inevitably [cough cough, delusional] made into a motion picture. |
That was all Fallon could focus on or remember in the following two weeks. Somewhere in her periphery a statue was taking shape, meals were being cooked and eaten, a yellow and black scarf was growing longer and longer between her fingers. Sun was shining or wind was howling or the moon was rising or falling. Beach grass and birch trees were changing color, she suspected, but the only thing she was aware of was Max: sitting beside her, standing across the studio from her, lying beneath her back in a bathtub by the fire, buried deep inside her body in his bed once the sun went down.
Addict, she thought to herself accusingly, watching him from across a display of pumpkins in the co-op market one afternoon, three days before Halloween…
Thanks for swinging by, ghouls and boys! Now head here to check out all the other Six Sentence Sunday excerpts this week. Happy Halloween!
—Meg
Tuesday, July 26, 2011
Mah latest book, you can has!
It's called Trespass, and it's about a woman on the run from the law after a crime of self-defense. She takes shelter in the home of a stranger, deep in the heart of Montana's ranch country, and much lust and betrayal ensues. It's been getting shelved under such awesome Goodreads categories as "hot-cowboy-lovin" and "cowboy-stud-fever", but I feel obligated to point out to any true cowboy fetishists, Russ is technically a large animal vet. Though he does own horses and the requisite hat. Here's the official blurb:
He opened his home. She stole his heart…and his money.
Many would envy veterinarian Russ Gray’s life in rural Montana’s wide-open spaces. Russ calls it lonely. In a country with more cattle than eligible females, he doesn’t envision his seven years as a widower ending anytime soon. Until a mysterious woman lands at his door in the dead of night, riddled with buckshot.
Sarah Novak hates lying to such a kind, handsome man, but if an upstanding citizen like Russ finds out why she’s been three weeks on the run, he’d surely turn her in. Yet she can’t refuse his offer to let her stay until she heals, no questions asked.
From the start they fall into an easy companionship, then teasing flirtation flares into an unexpected intimate connection. But no matter how right it feels in his arms, guilt tugs at Sarah’s heart. Russ doesn’t deserve what she must do next.
When Russ wakes up with an empty bed—and an empty wallet—his first instinct isn’t to call the cops…it’s to catch her and find out why his urge to protect her overshadows all reason. Because he’s had a taste of real passion, and he’s not letting it slip away without a fight.
If you want more details or an excerpt, check out Samhain's Trespass page, where you can order and save 30%. It's also available through the Nook and Kindle. You can read an early review here.
Wednesday, May 18, 2011
New Sale!
I woke to the news that Samhain has made an offer on my very favorite manuscript, Coast! My faithful beta reader, Amy, knows it as Between Brothers (it's a love triangle) but after a year-plus of dabbling in m/m erotica, I can no longer look at that title and not skeeve myself out. Amy's also the only person, aside from my husband and my Samhain editor, Anne Scott, who understands why there's a picture of red Chucks up there. I owe her really big thanks for how this book turned out. She rooted for it and made it way better, and it's essentially her fault there's a laser tag scene in it.
I'd hoped this might be the manuscript that I used to snag an agent…I felt it was the best thing I'd written, or at least the thing I felt most proud of. It's very me. But though I received nice comments on the writing, I heard again and again from agents that it's a tricky story to find a home for. It's not high concept, it's not trendy, it's not especially commercial. It's set in my favorite city, Wellington, New Zealand, which for reasons beyond my comprehension is not known world-wide as a hotbed of romance (someday, Welly, someday). It hasn't got any supernatural beings or high-stakes suspense or time-travel. It's just a story about a tangled-up romance involving three [relatively] normalish people, flitting between a second-rate pub, a house boat, a dojang, a bike courier dispatch, and a karaoke bar. My thanks to those kind agents who told me they wished they could say 'yes'. I wished you could, too! But ultimately my yearning simply to get it into readers' hands trumped my yearning to score representation with it. They'll be time enough for that, yet.
Anyhow, no clue when it'll be out, but I look forward to wooting about that when I hear. Oh and it's got a really great soundtrack, incidentally. Thanks for reading! And extra big thanks again, Amy!
Tuesday, April 12, 2011
Intuition and Commercial Fiction
No clue where this post is going, so don't expect any profound hypotheses.
After wrapping some major edits and other responsibilities, it's time to tackle the task of revising my latest Blaze proposal. I've had a couple of weeks to ruminate on it since talking to my editor, which is good. Those weeks dampened the blow of hearing the submission wasn't quite hitting the mark as is, so that fact is no longer stinging, disappointing news, but merely a large item on my to-do list. What I really took away from both this proposal and the previous one (which was simply rejected) is that I'm trying a bit too hard.
Conversely, another supposed Blaze I wrote before I'd sold Caught on Camera didn't feel that way at all. I wrote it quite quickly and pleasurably, thinking it was a Blaze, and really loving it. Then I was told it's not a Blaze and the multiple reasons why were spelled out, making that fact rather obvious in hindsight (mainly, it was too dark). But happily I did sell it to Samhain (it's called Trespass, out in late July), and thank goodness, as I really like that book, even though it's not a Blaze as I'd intended. Bonus, I got to add in all the swear words I'd softened per category romance etiquette.
So I can try too hard and miss the mark, and end up with a proposal that feels so forced and not-me-ish that I don't even care to finish it in the hopes another publisher will want it. Or I can write intuitively (as with Trespass) with not enough objective thought given to the tone and conventions of my targeted line, and end up with a book I love but that doesn't wind up where I'd initially intended. I need to find some middle ground.
Caught on Camera may have been that middle ground. I was pretty naive about everything when I wrote it, plus when the opportunity presented itself I wrote so fast I didn't give myself much time to overthink anything. I flung myself at the dart board and managed to hit close enough to the bulls eye to get invited to revise. With these other proposals I'm way over-aiming, psyching myself out, body clenched tight from the pressure, breath held, and my darts are hitting the wall and floor as a result.
But it's hard to will one's self to be calm when approaching a book. I want to write intuitively, but my 100% natural writing style is not very marketable. But when I work very hard to make a book commercially viable, I don't sound like myself quite as much. I'm determined to be a professional writer, though, so I need to figure out a way to make my own voice soar within the conventions and constraints of an established line. I need to accept that I simply don't enjoy or excel at writing plot-driven books, but also stop assuming that precludes me from being marketable. Character-driven stories can be as dynamic as plot-driven ones, right? I just need enough external plot to hold the story together while my characters live out the drama I much prefer to explore—the intimate human-to-human kind. I need to quit trying to cram my characters into what I think the "right" sort of plot should be.
For example, I do not enjoy writing stories with villains, and avoid it whenever possible. I like the animosity to come from the protagonists, especially since I enjoy writing lead characters who are themselves a bit despicable, if only in the odd moment or situation. I mean, we're all a bit despicable now and then. And that's so much more interesting to me than an external bad guy getting in the way. In fact I rather like it when the two leads view one another as the villain, at least to start.
Well, I have to go do some actual plotting now instead of just yammering about it, so I better leave this here. If I stumble upon any insights into the trying-really-hard versus flying-by-the-seat-of-my-intuitive-pants balance I'll be sure to share them.
After wrapping some major edits and other responsibilities, it's time to tackle the task of revising my latest Blaze proposal. I've had a couple of weeks to ruminate on it since talking to my editor, which is good. Those weeks dampened the blow of hearing the submission wasn't quite hitting the mark as is, so that fact is no longer stinging, disappointing news, but merely a large item on my to-do list. What I really took away from both this proposal and the previous one (which was simply rejected) is that I'm trying a bit too hard.
Conversely, another supposed Blaze I wrote before I'd sold Caught on Camera didn't feel that way at all. I wrote it quite quickly and pleasurably, thinking it was a Blaze, and really loving it. Then I was told it's not a Blaze and the multiple reasons why were spelled out, making that fact rather obvious in hindsight (mainly, it was too dark). But happily I did sell it to Samhain (it's called Trespass, out in late July), and thank goodness, as I really like that book, even though it's not a Blaze as I'd intended. Bonus, I got to add in all the swear words I'd softened per category romance etiquette.
So I can try too hard and miss the mark, and end up with a proposal that feels so forced and not-me-ish that I don't even care to finish it in the hopes another publisher will want it. Or I can write intuitively (as with Trespass) with not enough objective thought given to the tone and conventions of my targeted line, and end up with a book I love but that doesn't wind up where I'd initially intended. I need to find some middle ground.
Caught on Camera may have been that middle ground. I was pretty naive about everything when I wrote it, plus when the opportunity presented itself I wrote so fast I didn't give myself much time to overthink anything. I flung myself at the dart board and managed to hit close enough to the bulls eye to get invited to revise. With these other proposals I'm way over-aiming, psyching myself out, body clenched tight from the pressure, breath held, and my darts are hitting the wall and floor as a result.
But it's hard to will one's self to be calm when approaching a book. I want to write intuitively, but my 100% natural writing style is not very marketable. But when I work very hard to make a book commercially viable, I don't sound like myself quite as much. I'm determined to be a professional writer, though, so I need to figure out a way to make my own voice soar within the conventions and constraints of an established line. I need to accept that I simply don't enjoy or excel at writing plot-driven books, but also stop assuming that precludes me from being marketable. Character-driven stories can be as dynamic as plot-driven ones, right? I just need enough external plot to hold the story together while my characters live out the drama I much prefer to explore—the intimate human-to-human kind. I need to quit trying to cram my characters into what I think the "right" sort of plot should be.
For example, I do not enjoy writing stories with villains, and avoid it whenever possible. I like the animosity to come from the protagonists, especially since I enjoy writing lead characters who are themselves a bit despicable, if only in the odd moment or situation. I mean, we're all a bit despicable now and then. And that's so much more interesting to me than an external bad guy getting in the way. In fact I rather like it when the two leads view one another as the villain, at least to start.
Well, I have to go do some actual plotting now instead of just yammering about it, so I better leave this here. If I stumble upon any insights into the trying-really-hard versus flying-by-the-seat-of-my-intuitive-pants balance I'll be sure to share them.
Tuesday, April 5, 2011
Release day, wooo!
So The Reluctant Nude is out today from Samhain! It's a contemporary romance about an unorthodox affair between a no-nonsense ecologist and a hot-blooded French sculptor, sequestered together one autumn in the artist's studio on Cape Breton, Nova Scotia. I'm very proud of this story. It's very me, as an author…quiet and intimate and a bit wonky. Fallon, the heroine, is waaay out of her element, and as a result she's wary and irritable and defensive. The hero, Max, is somewhat eccentric and occasionally galling, as provocative as Fallon is guarded. A match made in my own twisted idea of heaven.
I was going to make a big to-do, maybe post a recipe from Nova Scotia or Britanny, France, as there is a lot of food and wine consumption in the book…maybe talk about my Cape Breton honeymoon in 2009 which completely inspired the story…well, the setting, not the plot… But on second thought, I'm exhausted from the week already, so I've decided to keep the pimping minimal.
 |
| Ah, Cape Breton in autumn! Photo ©Dave MacDonald |
But I must spew forth my thanks! Thanks to you future readers, and thanks to the book's very first readers, MB, Amy and Liz. Thanks to the judges who deemed it worthy to final in the 2010 Golden Heart, gigantic thanks to my editor Anne Scott for choosing it and making it stronger, to Kanaxa, who designed the beautiful cover, and to the kind reviewers who've weighed in on it so far.
Actually, I will dwell on the reviews. I've taken to forcing my forthcoming romances on my RWA chaptermate Penny Watson, and so far she's enjoyed them both, despite her repeated claims that she doesn't like contemporaries. She promised if she hated the book she'd diplomatically keep those feelings to herself and not review it on her blog, but as it turns out, she loved it! You can read her review here.
And this morning I woke up to an equally kind and thoughtful review from Smexy Books. Apparently I made both reviewers cry, which is pretty delightful since so often it goes the other way 'round for us authors.
Anyhow, for more information (blurb, excerpt) or to buy direct and save 30%, you can check it out in the Samhain online store. It's also available for Kindle and Nook, and come February of next year it will be available as a paperback.
That's enough for now. Thanks for swinging by on this exciting day!
Thursday, January 6, 2011
Baby's First Romance Cover
Finally! I can share the cover for The Reluctant Nude, my first romance title with Samhain, due out this April. I've been getting taunting e-mails from my editor for the past few weeks, asking for my authorly input on various versions, and left to salivate while I wait for the green light to share. Now the wait's over! Behold!
Huge thanks to the artist, Kanaxa. It's my aim to keep this blog as light on the book promo as possible, but if you want more details about the story, you can head to the books page of my website.
Oh and since this post is borderline self-pimpy already, I may as well mention that I also just found out my debut April Blaze, Caught on Camera, is available for preorder on Amazon. Surreal.
Huge thanks to the artist, Kanaxa. It's my aim to keep this blog as light on the book promo as possible, but if you want more details about the story, you can head to the books page of my website.
Oh and since this post is borderline self-pimpy already, I may as well mention that I also just found out my debut April Blaze, Caught on Camera, is available for preorder on Amazon. Surreal.
Saturday, January 1, 2011
1-1-11
Happy New Year!
I came home from a family New Year's party around two a.m. to some unexpected but very welcome news in my inbox. My Samhain editor had written to offer me a contract for another romance, called Trespass—my eleventh sale right on the cusp of 2011. She'd sent the e-mail on December 31, but I received it on January 1, so it was either a happy cap on the end of 2010 or a fortuitous start to the new year. I'll go with both. I think I better wait to celebrate though, as I can still feel last night's champagne pumping where my blood ought to be.
I also gained about four pounds in pure cheese at that party, so good thing it's Gymuary, day one! Let Discipline Year begin! The only catch is that I don't actually know if my gym is open today, which would be a bit of a false start to my plan to go every single day this month… But still, I got up and put on a jog bra, and later I will walk to my gym to literally fulfill my plan to "go to the gym", even if it's locked when I arrive.
Addendum!
The gym was open, and it was hoppin'! I guess people are eager to make good on those fitness resolutions, as every single elliptical machine was being used, which is very abnormal. I'd hoped to snag one to ease my hungover self gently into Gymuary, but alas. I ran for a half hour on a treadmill instead and sweated mightily, and wine-pickled or not I did not fall off or pass out. Actually I think it squeezed all the party toxins from my system, as I feel much better now.
So Gymuary Day One—check.
I came home from a family New Year's party around two a.m. to some unexpected but very welcome news in my inbox. My Samhain editor had written to offer me a contract for another romance, called Trespass—my eleventh sale right on the cusp of 2011. She'd sent the e-mail on December 31, but I received it on January 1, so it was either a happy cap on the end of 2010 or a fortuitous start to the new year. I'll go with both. I think I better wait to celebrate though, as I can still feel last night's champagne pumping where my blood ought to be.
I also gained about four pounds in pure cheese at that party, so good thing it's Gymuary, day one! Let Discipline Year begin! The only catch is that I don't actually know if my gym is open today, which would be a bit of a false start to my plan to go every single day this month… But still, I got up and put on a jog bra, and later I will walk to my gym to literally fulfill my plan to "go to the gym", even if it's locked when I arrive.
Addendum!
The gym was open, and it was hoppin'! I guess people are eager to make good on those fitness resolutions, as every single elliptical machine was being used, which is very abnormal. I'd hoped to snag one to ease my hungover self gently into Gymuary, but alas. I ran for a half hour on a treadmill instead and sweated mightily, and wine-pickled or not I did not fall off or pass out. Actually I think it squeezed all the party toxins from my system, as I feel much better now.
So Gymuary Day One—check.
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