Thursday, February 24, 2011

THANKFUL THURSDAY meme

Over at The Oasis for YA, where I co-blog with some other fabulous writers, we're starting a meme.

Gratitude is one of the major positive forces in the universe and the more you show, the more good you will have in your life to be grateful for. Did you know that? The universal symbol for gratitude is a spiral, and once you realize it, you will see it everywhere... Go HERE to see what I mean.

So, without further preachyness I give you a few of the things I find to be thankful for today:

I'm grateful for the rotten cat who constantly pesters me to hold him, because when I do I'm forced to take a little break.

I'm grateful for no news on the submissions front, because (at least right now) there are no rejections to bring me down.

I'm grateful for the partially empty cupboards and fridge, because even though my day-before-groceries choices are limited, I still have choices.

I'm grateful that even though I still haven't had "the call", I get to do what I love every day and explain it away as my job.

I'm grateful for my friends, far and near, because they bring joy to my life in ways I never expected.

I could do on and on. Can you? Visit the Oasis and see what others are Thankful for.
Jump in the Spiral, and share your path!

Friday, February 18, 2011

PENSIVE

(Picture snitched from icanhascheezurger, of course. ^_^)

Have you ever just been...moody. Maybe pensive is a better word. Like the kitteh up there, I haz a ponder.

Which way to go?

Maybe it's symptomatic of being a WIPaholic. Eventually, there will be a moment where you wonder, "Do I stay with this one? The market is overloaded with this genre now. Do I write this other one that's unique and fun and a challenge? Do I try this other idea?" For me it goes like this: Dystopian? Revamp old paranormal? New guy's POV paranormal? Time travel? Shiny new idea that's not formed yet? Oy! Too many ideas!

I used to worry that I'd run out of story ideas. That's clearly not the case. So, I worry that those ideas are all just in the wrong genre at the wrong time for the market. Which leads to the worry, will I ever be published that way I'd like? It's the worst place to be and makes the liquor cabinet look really pretty.

I'm not sure where it leaves me, really. What I know is I crave to plunge head first and lose myself like I did with RESONANCE, and FORESIGHT before that. Anyone else battle with the ponders? I can't be the only one.

Wednesday, February 16, 2011

A TOUCH MORTAL contest!

No, I'm not having a contest or giving it away because I don't have it yet. (Not sure I'd part with it if I did :oP ) Anyway... Over at the Oasis for YA, I blogged on TBR Tuesday. My suggestion was for everyone to check out A TOUCH MORTAL by Leah Clifford. You can check out the post HERE which I highly recommend. There's pretty, pretty backmatter and publisher blurbs.

AND, Leah is having a contest to win a signed copy!! (squee) There's lots of swag, too but I want THE BOOK! Click HERE to check out her contest--which is what I did, and why I'm about to tell y'all something crazy I did. And if you know me, I am SO not a crazy-stuff-doing person.

Craziest thing:
I'm a born and bred Michigan girl and anything above 80 degrees is pushing evil in my cool lake water opinion. So, what did I do? I spent a summer in my late teens in Little Rock, with my oldest sister.
One sweltering afternoon, I sat wilting in the Arkansas heat alone in my sister's house. She'd gone house hunting out of state with my military brother-in-law and left me at there house with a to-do list a mile long. Painting. Cleaning. More painting. Oh look! More cleaning... Well, I was damn tired of paint brushes and cleaning products, so I decided to head to the craft store a few miles away. Mind you, I am a tad bit directionally challenged, and due to being a big chicken, I also didn't have a driver's license.
Non-wilting craft projects are equal to emergencies, right?
Well, that's what I told myself, since my sister had left the keys to her car "for emergencies."
Craziest thing I've done? Driving a car, without a license, out of state, with no one around to bail my butt out of jail if I got caught and no insurance in case I caused an accient.
Was it worth it? Hell yes. I didn't get caught--though I did fess up when my sister returned. And, I felt liberated! I picked up a craft to keep me busy. (Yes, I'm a nerd :oP) Plus...I felt LIBERATED!!

There. Confession's over. Do you think I'm a heathen now? *snort* Now, go on and enter that contest!!

Friday, February 11, 2011

That's YAmore blogfest


My Oasis for YA sisters and I are throwing a Valentine's weekend swoonfest! So, for your That's YAmore reading pleasure, I give you a bit of a longer first kiss scene, because like my friend Heather says, it's all about the build up...

My pulse quickens when she steps from the bathroom. The light halos her curves as she stands barefoot in this grungy motel room looking like a goddess in nothing but scrapes, bruises and my spare T-shirt. Suddenly, I want to crush her to me and cover her up. She’s too damn pretty to be in this place, with a guy as tainted as me.

“Come here, Zain.” She curls a finger and I stand, kind of numb, wanting to follow her and thinking I don’t deserve it. With a sigh, Zoe steps to my side and takes my hand. “You’re bleeding again. Let me clean you up.”

“Don’t worry about it.” I shift a glance from my shoulder gash to her temple. “You are too.”

“No big deal. It’s just a scrape—” She shoves me onto the bathroom counter and stands between my knees. “Your cut’s worse, and I don’t want you bleeding on my only shirt when you kiss me.”

Your only shirt?” I can’t stop myself from tugging on the hemline and brushing her skin. I pull her closer, just a few inches of air between us. My heart rate ratchets up a notch. Kiss her? That’s the stuff of dreams, not dirty no-tell motels. Still, the temptation…her curves, her lips… “Who says I’m going to kiss you?”

“Me.”

Smiling and peeking at me through her eyelashes, Zoe crouches to fish through the cabinet beneath my butt for the first aid kit. Tingles follow her fingers over my knee when she puts the case on the counter. Her hip, and the cotton of my shirt, brush the inside of my thigh when she turns back to me. God, sitting here and not pulling her to me is going to stop my heart—again.

“This is going to sting,” she says, and pats an alcohol soaked pad over the cut on my shoulder. I suck in a sharp breath, but that’s all.

“So…” I look into her eyes and fight the magnetic pull between us. “You wouldn’t feed me in the hospital when I was broken and bandaged, but you’ll play in my blood?”

“Zain?” Her eyelids dip, giving her a dreamy expression, but her voice is alive with fire.

“Yeah?”

She presses the gauze pad to my cut, and I can’t help but wince.

“Shut up.”

I snap my lips closed. We’re inches apart and I want her too bad to touch her. Zoe’s free hand rides up my thigh to the hem of my boxers, then skims the fabric and slides up my stomach and chest to my cheek. She’s so close all I see are her eyes, and her breath warms on my lips. The distance, this closeness, is too much and not enough. I lift one hand from its tight grip on the countertop, and rest it on the curve of her waist, pulling gently with my last two fingers touching her bare skin.

Her eyelids close in a slow fall. The tension in her hand increases as she pulls my face to her.

The first gentle brush of her lips is a feather-light electric shock. The T-shirt rides up her back when I cinch her to me and deepen the kiss. She inhales through her nose and abandons my cheek to bury her fingers in my hair. Sliding my hand up her back, and my butt off the counter, I stand and we’re a tangle of arms, legs and hands that don’t know where to rest in a dingy bathroom. The moment couldn’t be more glorious. I’m kissing Zoe Morgan!

The gauze falls to the floor when Zoe throws her other arm around me. The soft press of her chest against mine is enough to make me want to hold my breath, and Zoe to me forever.

Then, all too soon it’s over. We break apart at the same moment, both of us breathing hard. I twist a finger in the hem of my T-shirt where it brushes her hips, and she licks her bottom lip, red and little puffy from kissing me.

And here's links to my CP's That's YAmore posts:

Heather Howland
Jus Accardo
Katy Upperman

Or, you can click HERE to take you to the home post and the big link link.




Wednesday, February 09, 2011

WHEW

Wow! What a week. It's only Wednesday and my mind is feeling squishy.

Most everyone here knows I'm writing YA romance and that my agent has submissions out. What y'all might not know is I also occasionally write erotica under a pseudonym for Samhain Publishing. Well, that penname has a release this May, a dark, gritty urban fantasy, and I just finished the first round of edits for the novel. Three character POVs, all werecreatures and all in past tense, very adult language.

VERY different from the YA I've been working on.

And today I wrote a scene out of sequence for The Oasis for YA's That's YAmore! blogfest starting this Friday. This scene was a major departure from adult romance, and the regular YA...this was a kissing scene from a teen guy's POV! Teen guy, check. Kissing, check. Present tense, checkity check check.

From a murderous werewolf, an uncertain werecat, a kickass hybrid in past tense to a romantic teen guy in present tense. All in one day! Drop brain in blender and hit frappe. >_<

Looks like a movie night. My mind needs to unwind and reboot to single teen POV.