Anna Small, Romance Author

Romance on Valentine's Day and Every Day!

2012-02-14T15:46:00.000-08:00

People think it must be easy for a romance author to write about something as obvious as Valentine's Day, but I guess it's as difficult for writers as it is for everyone else. I mean, what can I write about the ultimate holiday that celebrates love in all its wonderful forms? So to celebrate this day of hearts and flowers, I've clipped a love scene from one of my current projects to give you a glimpse of love in Regency England! This is a scene between Mary Bennet (the middle sister from Pride and Prejudice) and her fiance, Frederick, who happens to be drop dead gorgeous and an earl, to boot! They're playing the piano together in the middle of the night. It's a piece she wrote about him.

A log on the hearth collapsed with the muffled sound of rustling autumn leaves. He’d stoked the fire earlier, but it was almost dying. She wondered if she should light a few lamps–perhaps all of them, and some candles, besides, but then decided against it. There was a magical quality in the air, hovering around them. Light would only disturb the moment.

“This part rather hangs in the end,” he said suddenly, his eyes focused on the page while his fingers continued to work through her notes. She blinked.

“Does it?”

He nodded, seemingly unaware of her tumultuous feelings. “Tell me what you saw when you wrote this. In your head, I mean. Is this Everhill?” He played a few chords, and then looked at her expectantly.

She stifled a laugh. “I do not remember what I saw in my mind. I was just thinking of…” Being lost in your arms, of running my fingers through your hair…She gulped. “It was just you.”

“Just me?”

His quiet voice matched the silent darkness all around them. The fire crackled in the hearth, then seemed to go silent, as if the inanimate room waited for her reply.

“Just you.” Her response had been a throaty whisper. She took a deep breath as if she were preparing to swim across a lake. Her left hand slipped off the keyboard and linked with her right, which remained in her lap.

She felt one of them should look away first, and quickly. Something was about to happen, and she didn’t know if she should try to stop it, or even how she could.

His eyes glowed in the dim room, burning flames of their own. He moved closer to her on the bench, taking the last eighth of an inch. Heat emanated from his body until she felt his warmth through her dressing gown and nightgown, and finally, to her bare skin. She hadn’t realized he’d taken her hand until he pressed it to his lips.

The pressure of his mouth against her palm increased to a defined kiss. This was no repeat of mocking Jeremy’s attempt. Her breath seemed trapped in her lungs, and she arched toward him. He curved her fingers around his cheek, the rasp of his whiskers grazing her skin. She longed to touch him of her own accord, to stroke his silky-looking hair and the straight slope of his nose, but her hand was captive.

Unable to bear not being in his arms any longer, she slid her free hand up his arm, feeling the muscles contract until she reached his shoulder. He slipped his injured arm around her back and drew her close, releasing her hand in another instant to tilt her chin as his head dipped down.

She had never anticipated a kiss before, yet instinctively knew what to do. She pressed her hand to his chest, her fingertips inadvertently slipping between his shirt buttons so that she felt his heated bare skin. His breath fanned her cheek with short, quick puffs, and his heartbeat pounded against her palm.

The tips of their noses touched, and then his head turned slightly. The feather touch of his mouth against hers sparked something deep inside her, and she murmured his name. That action parted her lips, and it was all he needed. His lips were gentle but firm, tasting and teasing her until she kissed him back, her head reeling with the rapid onslaught of sensations his kiss aroused.

Hope that puts everyone in the mood for your own personal love story! May it be filled with hugs and kisses, candy hearts and roses! (And someone else doing the dishes for a change.)

Plotting A New Novel, Jane Austen Style!

2012-01-09T19:21:00.000-08:00

Well, I finally finished and submitted a Regency historical romance, book 1 of hopefully 3 in a series, and am now working on book 2! This one stars Georgiana Darcy, the famous Mr. Darcy's younger sister. I love immersing myself in the Regency period and am excited to work on this new book. Usually, when I finish a book, there's a little sense of loss - like the baby bird has flown the nest! But sticking with the same background story (Pride and Prejudice) and familiar characters makes it feel like I'm with an old friend again.

Who is your favorite Jane Austen character? Are you fond of matchmaker Emma? Sensible Eleanor Dashwood? The Bennet sisters? What is it about her books that have inspired readers and authors for nearly 200 years?

Cassie's Christmas Wish - A Mini Christmas Story on Kindle!

2011-12-26T16:32:00.000-08:00

I wrote a Christmas mini story (a chapter that might have been) for Cassie and Jed from TAME THE WILD WIND. We finally get to meet the elusive Uncle Abe and find out what Cassie got for Christmas! If you enjoyed TTWW and can't get enough of the characters, then this mini is for you!

Cassie's Christmas Wish on Amazon.com

I hope everyone got their own Christmas wish answered this year. I'm looking forward to 2012 and all the possibilities and wonders that it holds! Blessings and peace to all.

Merry Christmas and Best Wishes for a Happy New Year!

2011-12-23T17:10:00.000-08:00

I can't believe another year has flown by. It seems that the years pass quicker since I had my kids. Was it only yesterday I was telling stories about the Nativity and Santa Claus? Now, I have one more night to go until I'm putting out cookies and milk and urging my 7 yo son to go to sleep so Santa can come.

My Christmas gift to myself was finishing my latest novel, a Regency historical romance. My New Year's resolution is to find a publishing home for it! I also want to finish the Tame the Wild Wind sequels (I planned 4) and maybe write some shorter stuff. What are your resolutions and plans?

Thanks to all our soldiers who served in the Iraq war and are now coming home. May they all have a safe and happy holiday at home. Peace on earth!

Happy Birthday, Jane Austen! 236 years young!

2011-12-16T14:48:00.000-08:00

I hope my readers and fellow authors adore the incomparable Jane as much as I do. Her novels (along with the Bronte sisters' Wuthering Heights and Jane Eyre) sparked the romance genre that we all know and love today. If you haven't read Emma or Pride and Prejudice yet, do your heart a favor and start reading! The movies of the books are all wonderful, but my favorite is the Keira Knightley version.

My current "work in progress" is a Pride and Prejudice-based novel, and in honor of Miss Austen as well as begging her pardon, I'm giving you a sneak peek at one of the scenes. Hope you enjoy it!

She closed her eyes, exhaling on the window so that her breath bounced back into her mouth, as warm as his had been. Confusion swirled through her, igniting all variety of emotion. She’d sensed a connection between them. Somehow, beyond the difference in their ages and stations, not to mention life experiences, she’d felt a kinship. As if she’d known him all her life.

Nonsensical dreaming was all it was. Girlish fantasy and listening to Lucinda’s romantic nonsense. That was the source behind her confusing thoughts. She suddenly did something she had never done before in her life.

“Frederick,” she whispered. Her lips relished the shape of his name, the way they parted on the consonants, as if preparing for a kiss. Her tongue pressed the back of her teeth on the d. Her breath misted the glass as she spoke his name, and she stared at it until it evaporated.

Though she wasn’t the least bit sleepy, she climbed into bed beside Lucinda, pulling the quilt up to her chin. Colonel Parker had offered her a solitary room at the start of her visit, but she, who had always shared a room with her younger sisters, found the large, drafty house a little frightening at night. She scooted close to Lucinda, taking some comfort in her friend’s sleepy warmth.

Lucinda mumbled in her sleep. The sweet tones of the pianoforte filtered through the closed door and the layers of carpeted floors and walls. It was a variation of his symphony. She wondered if he thought of his former love as he played.

It was too much to think that a man such as he would ever consider playing for a simple country girl like herself.

FREE Cookbook from The Wild Rose Press Authors!

2011-11-26T17:49:00.000-08:00

Yes, I said FREE. Yours truly has a recipe for some tasty lasagna roll ups in there! Just go to the link below to get your own free downloadable copy. You still have to "check out" but it's 100% free. The Wild Rose Press has award-winning, one-of-a-kind romances of all genres, so check out their books while you're there!

FREE Wild Rose Press Authors Cookbook

While we're on the subject of food, I hope everyone had a wonderful Thanksgiving! And to my international readers, Thanksgiving is an American holiday whereby we all eat a lot of turkey, watch football, and take long naps! Seriously, it is a time for reflection on what we are thankful for. Here's my list - that I have a healthy family, a roof over my head, a job I love, friends I adore, and the best readers in the world!

What are you thankful for? I'd love to hear it.

Interview at Romancing the West, with Jacquie Rogers

2011-11-14T20:17:00.000-08:00

Here's a link to the fun interview I did with Jacquie Rogers! Make a comment on her blog and mine to be entered to win either a FREE ebook of Tame the Wild Wind or a $10 Amazon gift certificate. Come on - you know you want the book! :) Romancing the West Blog Interview

Another birthday has come and gone - shudder! I immediately bought new anti-wrinkle creams, as if the little buggers would appear on my face overnight. But hubby was sweet - bought me a new laptop, on which I am writing this! My trusty desktop was starting to act like it would rather work for someone else, and I was writing with the constant fear that it would crash at any moment, taking my work in progress with it! The laptop was cheaper than a desktop tower by itself - go figure!

I hope that all of you are enjoying these last few weeks before the big holiday rush is here. Have you finished your shopping yet? Baking any special goodies to share with friends? I love making Christmas cookies, even though the kids don't like homemade unless it's chocolate chip! But I will be making Snickerdoodles and raspberry bird's nests like I always do! What special thing do you like to make for the holiday season?

4 **** Review from Romantic Times Magazine!!!

2011-10-27T09:29:00.000-07:00

Wow! This is so exciting. Taking A Chance on Forever received a 4 star review from RT!!! Here's the review in a nutshell, with the link to their site. Thanks to everyone who believes in me and supports my writing endeavors. Writing is a solitary vocation, but the end result opens the author to the entire world.

Taking A Chance on Forever **** Review

Small’s take on a second chance at love proves that fate has its own agenda. The secondary characters add their own brand of humor, while Kate and Dan ride an emotional roller coaster driven by the whims of others.

Kate Thorne’s daughter is getting married. Imagine her surprise when she discovers the groom’s father is the boyfriend who left her for another woman 20 years earlier. Now he’s a widower engaged to a much younger starlet.
Dan Reynolds never stopped loving Kate and wants to recapture what they once had. He persuades her to escape to a picturesque B&B for the weekend. She’s reluctant until she learns more about his fiancée. But once she’s finally ready to try once again, she sees him in the arms of his intended. (SIREN-BOOKSTRAND, Apr., 210 pp., $13.99)
Reviewed By: Donna M. Brown

Sneak Peek at TAME THE WILD HEART

2011-10-25T18:27:00.000-07:00

This is a follow-up novel I'm writing about one of Jed and Cassie's sons, Dillon Hazard. It should be ready for publication next year, but in the meantime, here's the first chapter! Hope you enjoy it!

Chapter 1-- The New Mexico Territory, 1889

An ivory cotton chemise, while appealing to Dillon Hazard’seye appeared quite out of place, draped over a tumbleweed. He fingered the softmaterial, and cast a glance around. Other than a watchful hawk on a nearby xxxtree, he was quite alone. He tugged his horse’s bridle and pushed aside somelow-hanging branches, grabbing the chemise as he went. He ducked before hishead grazed a tree branch, and was surprised to narrowly miss riding into awoman’s white blouse, which dangled on a branch next to a long brown skirt. Apair of neat kid boots hung from another branch by their laces.

“What the…?” Heturned around in the saddle, eyes and ears straining for any sign of themystery clothes’ owner. He was at the far end of his family’s sprawling ranch,and there were no other neighbors for miles, besides Laughing Crow, his father’sgood friend, and his family. An outbreak of sweat dampened his shirt beneathhis armpits. What were the odds that an unclothed woman just happened to bepassing through the ranch?

A sudden splash in the river beyond the trees startledhim. His horse, a ten-year old stallion and descendant of his father’s horse,Demon, pricked his ears forward.

“Come on, Chester. I want a drink just as badly as youdo.” And with any luck, the owner of the discarded clothing was nearby. Hedismounted to better navigate the rocky slope toward the river. His pulse hadincreased in anticipation of what he would discover. Cutting through somebrush, he emerged, nearly breathless, out of the foliage and in plain view. Healmost groaned in disappointment. No woman, unclothed or otherwise, occupiedthe river. He shook his head and rubbed his horse’s nose. “Must’ve been gonelonger than I thought. Now I’m imagining things.” But the chemise wasn’t fromhis imagination. Someone had been here.

Chester pawed the ground, and Dillon laughed. “Go on,boy.” He released the reins and picked his way over the rocks toward the water.He still carried the chemise in his hand. It would make a decent towel for now,and he could always give it to Ma when he got home. He stooped at the edge ofthe river and slopped the chemise through the water, then swiped it across hishot, sweaty face and gritty hair. Chester stood by the edge, drinking his fill.Dillon’s stomach growled.

“Come on, boy, hurry up,” he scolded the horse. “You knowMa hates to be kept waiting when supper rolls around.” He wrapped the soddenchemise around his neck. It would cool him off on the long ride back to hisparents’ house. He scanned the empty river again. Except for a few ducks, heand Chester were the only living things in sight. Annoyance and disappointmentflooded him. “Let’s get home.” He scuffed his boots on the rocks as he shuffledtoward the trees again.

“Excuse me, but would you mind giving me back my clothes?”A woman’s voice broke the stillness.

Dillon’s neck snapped around. He stared in surprise atthe woman who had just appeared around the bend, treading water in the middleof the river, her long, black hair floating around her like a cape. Her darkbrows knit in anger, and her red lips pursed together, making her look as ifshe’d just sucked a lemon. Dillon fought the urge to laugh, and slowly pulledthe chemise from his neck. He held it out to her.

“Come and get it.”

She stared at him in surprise, and opened her mouth as ifto scold him, but decided against it. She clamped her lips shut, and movedcloser to the riverbank, though still keeping below the water line. Dillonwatched her gaze dart to the shore. White, lace-trimmed drawers and silkstockings lay on a pile of rocks. He grinned.

“You are no gentleman,” she accused.

He swung the wet chemise around in his hand as if he hadall the time in the world. “I may not be a gentleman, but I’m not stupid enoughto swim buck naked in a snake-infested river.”

Her eyes, glittering like smoky topazes, narrowed. “Thesnakes don’t bother me. It’s men like you I try to avoid.” She moved closer,and he sat down on the bank, enjoying the view. He mopped his brow with thechemise again, and she slapped her hands on the water. “Stop that! Give that tome.”

He reached down and gathered the rest of her clothes fromthe rocks. “You want ’em, come and get ’em.”

She sucked in a breath. “If I get out, do I have yourword you’ll give them back?”

He stared at her figure in the water. So far as he couldtell from the long, lithe arms and slim neck, the rest of her was probably justas appealing. “You have my word, though, as a gentleman, that point was debateda moment ago.”

“Fine. Do I have your word as a…a cowboy, then?”

Cowboy. He liked the sound of it. “Rancherand we’ve got a deal.”

“Very well. Rancher.” She was growing impatient,and he was enjoying every minute of it. The past few weeks of riding solo andattending various cattle auctions had bored him to tears with only Chester forcompany. He'd never expected such an attractive diversion on his way home. Goodthing Pa stayed home; else I’d be apologizing and hiding my eyes. Not tomention what Ma would do to me if she caught me looking….

“I promise I’ll give you your clothes, ma’am.” He stoodexpectantly, and watched as she seemed to steel herself for her walk to shore.Her long hair tossed behind her shoulders, she strode through the water, herexpression defiant and proud, like some ancient warrior queen.

Dillon realized he was holding his breath. He could justhear his best friend, John Crow, ribbing him once he found out Dillon Hazardhad stared at a woman like he’d never seen one before. He swallowed down thenervousness, which clung to his throat like a tough piece of week-old bread. Hewas no mama’s boy, still wet behind the ears. He’d even had a drink, once, atthe House of Diamonds, the town’s saloon, when his Uncle Ty was in town. Ofcourse, he’d been too goggle-eyed staring at all the girls to enjoy his firstwhiskey, which he’d promptly thrown up as soon as he was outside, but he likedto think he’d grown up since then.

He dangled the chemise. “Hurry up, now, ’cause my supper’sgetting cold.”

She emerged from the water, a dazzling sight. Her tawnyskin, pale gold like a sunset, glistened as the water ran off her in silveryrivulets. She was perfectly made, like a statue…the Venus de Milo. He thoughtabout one of his pa’s books, filled with drawings of the statues andarchitecture of ancient Rome. This girl was better than a statue. From therounded slopes of her exquisite breasts to the flat stomach, the curvaceouships….He couldn’t breathe, and was unable to tear his gaze from her. He’d haveto copy out a few books of the Bible as penance for acting so shamefully, buthe would face a week of copying out the Book of Romans just to have thismoment.

She raised one black eyebrow and regarded him withdisdain. Indian princess, he thought. An ancient spirit of some wanderingmaiden, lost in the old Navajo lands. His fingers trembled on the garment hewas suddenly loathe to part with. The moment he relinquished her clothes, she’dtake them and be gone forever. The idea sent him spiraling into despair.

She stood before him, looking up into his face without ashred of embarrassment, as dignified as a queen. Cleopatra. Bathsheba. Nowonder many a king had forfeited a kingdom over luscious red lips and brighteyes. But this was no ancient queen. She was flesh and blood, and she wasquivering with anger.

“My clothes, if you please.” A long, elegant handstretched out before him.

“Wait,” he said, then licked his lips. “How about a…akiss, first?”

He didn’t know where in the name of all things decent, he’dever come up with that one. The back of his neck burned and he knew it wasn’tfrom the sun. John Crow would laugh his fool head off.

Her eyes widened a fraction. “You said I had to come outof the water and get my things. You never mentioned a kiss.”

He swallowed to moisten his dry mouth, which felt coveredwith the same yellow dust on his boots. “I forgot to add that in, I guess.”

She sniffed. “I suggest you give me my clothes and forgetabout anything else, rancher. If you know what’s good for you.”

He would have obeyed, just from the demanding, haughtytone she applied, but then he saw the sparkle in her eyes. His spirits soared,and he casually stuffed her chemise into his shirt, right next to his thuddingheart.

“Just one kiss. You afraid of one, little kiss?”

“A gentleman would at least take off his hat first.”

Hetossed his hat as far from him as possible. He was ready to obey any othercommand. He inhaled the air between them. She smelled of fresh water andflowers and spring….

“You need a bath,” she muttered, her nose crinkled.

“One kiss, and then I’ll throw myself headfirst in thatriver, or wherever else you tell me.” He gazed down at her face in wonder,marveling at the high cheekbones that contrasted with the soft curve of herjaw. Hell with the river. He’d fly to Mount Olympus for a chance to stay nearthis alluring girl. He dared to drop his eyes to the peaks of her breasts, andcaught his breath. “Please, just one kiss.”

“Fine. But your hands stay down.”

He nodded. If fire walking had been part of the bargain,his boots would be halfway to the moon.

She placed her palms on his belly, slid them slowly uphis ribs and across his chest, spanning the breadth of him. His head spundizzily. The blood rushed through his body, ending at a particularly sensitivespot. His jeans were suddenly too tight, and the discomfort spread as her handswidened their search. Her fingers grazed his neck, and he wished he wasn’twearing the grit and dust of the road. He stared into her eyes, which burnedwith liquid fire. She pulled his head down to hers, then rose on tiptoe,leaning slightly into him so that her breasts crushed against his chest. Hishead was swimming. His hands clenched at his sides with the ache of wanting totouch her, but he’d keep his word. No matter how his body rebelled, he’d keepit. Her long, black lashes closed over her marvelous eyes, and her sweet breathwafted up to him as her lips parted, eager for his.

Too late, his instincts warned him. The teasing fingerson his neck were suddenly bands of iron, holding him in place while her bodyshifted. He barely moved in time to avoid the full force of the crushing blowof her knee into his groin, but it wasn’t enough.

Gasping and retching, he fell to his knees, his handscupped over his crotch. She groped in his shirt for her chemise and danced outof his way, snatching the rest of her clothes and boots, and disappeared intothe brush, her laughter ringing sickly in his ears.

I Met My Goal - Now What?!

2011-09-16T16:03:00.000-07:00

I am truly blessed to now be able to work from home. My "paid job" hours are in the evenings and weekends, and I have all day during the week to write. My original plan was to spend all this new time doing the following: exercise after the kids left for school; eat a healthy breakfast and then shower; clean house for an hour; and then head to my office (in the back of the house) and write for about 4 hours. Then, I would start dinner early, get the kids from the bus stop, eat dinner, and head back to the office for my paying job.

The reality? You guessed it! I sleep until an hour after the kids have left, eat stale donuts and sugary tea, don't exercise, shower (but I've since stopped wearing makeup, shaving my legs, and drying my hair), putz around the house for a few hours, do laundry, watch TV, chat with friends, get the kids from the bus, scramble up dinner, and then come outside to start the paying job with nary a written word done for the day.

What's wrong with this picture?! Laziness? Procrastination? Fear of the Unknown?! All of the above? I dreaded writing this blog entry on this subject because it makes me almost embarrassed that I was so gung-ho about getting to work from home so I could write more, and here I am, doing nearly diddly squat. In the three months since I left my 9-5 job, I have written about 40 pages. At the pace I had set for myself, I should have had a complete new book finished.

Okay, honeymoon's over. I will make a dreaded list and start working off that. I did meet with a new critique partner/writing buddy this week and have plans to meet her next week. So that counts as writing. I did work on a submission letter for my nearly-finished historical romance, so that counts. I used the word "pen" in a sentence today. Does that count?

As for the other unwritten pages and wasted hours where my butt was not in the proverbial chair? I can't get those back, but I am going to start NOW. Once a week, I will be sure to post my progress and upload a sentence or paragraph I either just wrote or have revised. Warning: the writing sample will be crazily romantic, at times silly or melodramatic, godawful terrible, or plain genius. I just have no idea how to determine that.

If you'd like, please comment on how you get past procrastination, or what you did when you reached a goal in your life. Celebrated a giant weight loss with an entire box of candy? Saved money and then blew it all on something trendy? Or were you more practical, and took the grateful option? Please let me know!

Taking A Chance featured on Best Romance Novels Today!

2011-09-12T19:26:00.000-07:00

This is exciting news! In order for a book to be featured on this site, it has to have earned 4.5 or 5 stars from a reviewer. Please check out their site! Best Romance Novels Today

My blog has been rehauled!

2011-09-12T19:22:00.000-07:00

My deepest, heartfelt gratitude goes out to Cecile, who gave my blog a much-needed overhaul! Now I will be able to post all kinds of things - excerpts, fun stuff, writing tips and bits, etc. I have moved my regular website over to this blog, so the website will cease to exist - why update 2 things when I can update 1?

I finished writing my latest historical Regency (book set in England in the 1820s) and am working on revisions now. Also have my Scottish, Viking, and other Westerns to write. Busy girl! Writing on a fulltime basis is a challenge - mostly because now I have these long periods of open time to write and I just stare at the computer and my messy desk and wonder what to do! But now I made a chart of the words I need to write to finish each of my works in progress, and it's not too daunting broken down that way.

Thanks for stopping by! Please let me know what you think of my pretty new blog site!

Getting Back Into Writing

2011-07-11T07:22:00.000-07:00

Okay, I've had some time off! I was busy with the conference, promoting, and just plain lazing around with visitors. Our family had a wonderful time in Cozumel on Carnival Cruise line - our first cruise! The kids had fun, and it was amazing to sit on the deck in the early morning with my dh and have breakfast while the sun was coming up. Yes, he's an early riser!

But now, the guests (aunt and uncle) are back home, vacay time is over, and I have a pile of "to write" stuff that I must return to. I have the first book of two different series nearly finished, and am making it my goal to get those done before the month is up. Sound crazy/impossible/wacked? Not really. I'm just focusing and making it my top priority.

So, what do you do when you're mind is still on vacation? I'd love to hear your suggestions!

Coffee Time Romance gave Taking A Chance on Forever - 4 cups!

2011-04-25T10:15:00.000-07:00

Here is the link to the reviewer's site and the complete review by Matilda -

Kate Thorne has been busy with her life raising her daughter and trying to stay afloat in the art world. The last thing she expects is to run into an old college boyfriend; one that left her and married another twenty years ago.

Dan Reynolds is widowed and in a relationship with a woman that he just has no clue why they are together. When he meets his son’s fiancé's mother, he is taken aback by the similarities to a love he once had and never forgot.

Thrown together by their children’s wedding, Kate and Dan find feelings still linger from a shared past and throw caution to the wind for the weekend, vowing to go their separate ways afterward. But the feelings and questions each have may make that harder than they thought. Can a second chance at love ever happen?

What a sweet romance. I loved this story filled with many choices that we make throughout life, never knowing the “what if?” Besides, who would not want a second chance at their first love? Kate and Dan’s story flows as smooth as silk from beginning to end. There is great chemistry between Kate and Dan as well as the other couple Sara and Brent, who deserve their own story as well.

Coffee Time Romance reviewMatilda

Reviewer for Coffee Time Romance & More

PAPERBACK RELEASE!!! Taking A Chance on Forever

2011-04-13T07:20:00.000-07:00

Sorry for the screaming title just now, but I am so excited to announce the paperback release 3 months earlier than expected!

If you'd like a signed copy, please let me know and I will have one sent to you for the cost of the book ($13.99) plus $2 shipping (the media rate).

I will upload the "epilogue" chapter that was not used in the final edition of the book in a few weeks, so keep checking back here or on my webpage.

Thanks again to all my friends, family, and readers who have supported and encouraged me over the years!

Mini read - the "prequel" to Taking A Chance On Forever

2011-03-16T17:52:00.000-07:00

I wrote this novella intending it to be a "free read" on Bookstrand's site, but they don't do them! This is the story of how Sara and Brent meet and fall in love. Incidentally, they are the children of the main characters in Taking A Chance on Forever. Please leave a comment or "follow me" on my blog and I will enter you in a fun contest to win a $10 Amazon.com certificate!

The students were in their seats, and the professor, an old man with a perpetual frown, was already ten minutes into his lecture. Sara Fournier swallowed her nervousness and stepped back into the hall before he could spot her. Late again. She’d been up all night with her friends, watching old reruns of classic TV and had forgotten to set her alarm clock. This was the third time she was late to her Western Civ class. One more time, Professor Weinstein had warned, and he’d drop her.

She clutched her backpack, a breakout of sweat tickling her armpits and under her hair, making her scalp itchy. Maybe she could say her father was in town–that he’d surprised her from his home in Paris and she’d been out all night with him. She almost shook her head at the thought. Unlikely her dad, whom her mom always called The Playboy, would drop in unannounced. His planned visits were rare as it was.

“Are you going in? Or are you holding up the wall?”

Sara jumped at the friendly voice and turned to face the speaker. Brent Reynolds. She’d never met him, but everyone knew who he was. Big Man on Campus, despite his sophomore status. An Honors student with the highest GPA in the world that was San Francisco State University. And owner of the deepest, dreamiest, baby blue eyes she’d ever seen.

She stepped away from the wall, hoping he’d think her face was pink from running to class rather than from his presence. “It’s my third time being late for Weinstein. He said he’ll drop me. I’m just deciding if I’d rather go in and face him or just spare myself the embarrassment and drop it on my own.”

He grinned. “He won’t drop you. I’ll tell him I got lost and you helped me.” He fluttered his class change notification at her.

She quirked an eyebrow. “That won’t work on him. He once lectured a girl who was late because she broke her leg. She came hobbling in with a cast, and he still went off.”

“But her dad probably didn’t just give a grant of two million dollars to the School of Humanities.”

“And your dad…?” She laughed, but quickly sobered. Reynolds….of course! Brent’s dad was that millionaire everyone was always talking about. Invented some kind of software thingie…

The tips of his ears turned pink. “Yeah. My old man keeps Weinstein in cheap cigars and all the research trips to Russia his heart desires. I think you’ll be okay.”

She wanted to feel put off at his casual mentioning of his father’s endowment to the school. She thought about her own childhood, of being raised by a maiden aunt and her single mom, who worked nonstop to keep her in school when the scholarships just didn’t cut it. But Brent looked embarrassed, like he wasn’t bragging about his dad’s success. He stuck out his hand, and she wondered if he did it to break the uncomfortable silence.

“I’m Brent.”

She untangled her right hand from the backpack’s strap. “Sara Fournier.”

His eyes widened. “That’s a mouthful! Forn-yay?”

She felt her blush deepen. “My dad’s French.”

He shrugged. “Cool name.” He peered intently at her, and she wondered if he liked brown-eyed girls. “It suits you. You don’t look like the other girls around here.”

“I can’t afford to bleach my hair all the time.”

“Yeah.” He laughed, and she joined him. “So…” He broke off, hesitant. She wondered why he kept staring at her, and tried to remember if she’d heard he had a girlfriend or not. “Do you want to come inside with me? I’ll make sure Windbag doesn’t bark at you.”

“Okay.” She hoisted her backpack with a grunt. He immediately reached for it. “Hey, thanks.”

“No problem.” When he spoke, a dimple in his cheek flashed. Very cute. He opened the door for her and the students looked up at the same time. The professor frowned when he saw Sara, but brightened at the sight of Brent behind her.

“Sorry I’m late, Professor Weinstein,” Brent said, prodding Sara to a seat close by where an empty one was next to it, “but I had some problems finding your class. Luckily, I met Sara here, and she showed me the way.” They sat down, and Sara heard the girl behind her let out a faint sigh. The professor nodded.

“Glad to have you in my class, Mr. Reynolds. Miss Fournier, it was very good of you to show him in. But next time….”

“There won’t be a next time,” she said quickly. Weinstein continued the lecture, and Sara pretended not to notice when Brent shifted his desk a few inches closer to hers. He loaned her a pen when hers refused to work, and she wrapped her fingers around it, absorbing the warmth from his hand. She glanced sideways at him from under her bangs, and he winked at her. Weinstein rattled on about the rise of the Bolsheviks and the White Army, but all she could think about was what it would be like to have a boyfriend as sweet and handsome like Brent Reynolds.

****

“Are you doing anything tonight?” he asked when class ended an hour later and the students started filing out of the room. She’d lingered over her backpack until Brent seemed ready to go. They were the last ones left, and the professor had already rushed out of there to attend a meeting. She wondered if the rapid thudding of her heart echoed in the empty room.

“Just studying. I have a math test tomorrow.”

His lips pursed. “Math–yuck! Maybe I can help you. I’m pretty good with numbers.”

Don’t act too desperate. She shrugged as casually as possible. “Sure. Where do you want to meet?”

He checked his watch. She caught the first few initials of Rolex, and pretended not to notice. “I have to see my dad for dinner, and then I’m free. About seven? I can pick you up.”

“Or I can just meet you at your dorm.”

Again, the pink-tipped ears. “I don’t live in the dorms. I have a condo.”

“Oh, a condo.” Of course. Every student who wasn’t on financial aid lived in condos and castles and mansions – “Okay–you can pick me up at seven. I finish my job cleaning up the lab by then.”

He smiled, and she nearly curled her toes inside her Skechers at the warmth rising within her every time he smiled. “Great. It was nice meeting you, Sara Fornyer.” His grin told her that he would now officially be screwing up the pronunciation of her last name for the remainder of their acquaintance.

“Same here.”

And then for some strange, unknown reason that would puzzle her the rest of the day, she leaned forward and kissed him on the lips before she could stop herself. She broke away, horrified at her behavior, but he didn’t look shocked or remotely bothered. His gaze held hers for as long as it took her to realize he was going to kiss her back.

He walked her to her next class, holding her hand tightly in his, both of their backpacks slung easily over his broad shoulders. She didn’t feel the ground beneath her or the sharp winter air on her face. They walked in intense silence, their hands linking their hearts and minds so no words were necessary.

****

Brent skipped class the rest of the day so he could wait outside of Sara’s. She only had two more, and at the end of her third class, through which she hadn’t paid the least attention or taken any notes at all, they walked to the student center to grab a bite to eat.

“Do you want to come with me and my dad to dinner tonight?” he asked, depositing their tray of pizza slices and soft drinks, which he had paid for, at a table.

Sara couldn’t think about eating. Her stomach was full of butterflies and other crawling creatures. She sipped her drink. “Will he mind?”

“Nah. He’s cool.” He gulped his soda. “He likes the fancier stuff now and then, so we’re going someplace nice.” He seemed to hesitate, as if he didn’t want to appear to be bragging. “We usually do subs or burgers, but those get boring after a few weeks.”

She mentally scanned her wardrobe for something to wear. Her roommate, Megan, had a new Dolce and Gabbana cocktail dress she might be able to borrow. She’d write Megan’s term paper for English Lit by way of returning the favor.

“Is your mom coming?” Maybe Brent’s parents were divorced, since he hadn’t mentioned his mother once.

“She died.” He took a big bite of his pizza, shrugging at her question. A few moments later, he added, “It was a few years ago. Cancer. It’s been me and Dad for a while now.”

“I’m so sorry.” She bit into her own slice. “My dad lives in Paris, so I don’t see him often.”

“That sucks.” He touched her arm, and a flush of red stained his neck and cheeks. She smiled encouragingly, though her chest was about to explode with nervous joy. He slid his hand down her arm until their hands brushed. She held his hand before he could move away. He grinned, and she was struck by how – well, how darned cute he was. “Paris is great,” he said. Have you ever been?”

“I was born there. My mom and I left when I was four.”

“You should go back and see it again. It’s a beautiful city. I went with my parents when I was ten or something.”

“Maybe.” Mom would be thrilled if I mention going to visit mon pere, the deadbeat. She changed the subject. “Have you traveled a lot?”

Again, the casual shrug, like he didn’t want to show off. “Here and there. My dad travels for business sometimes and I go with him when I can.”

“You’re so lucky,” she said, then gulped a huge sip of soda so as not to sound like a jealous little kid.

“You’re lucky to have your mom. I miss mine a lot.”

“I would miss mine, too.”

His fingers clasped hers tighter. She forgot her pizza. Who could think about food when Brent Reynolds was holding your hand? He leaned forward, as close as he could with the table between them. The table was small enough and Brent long-legged enough that their knees bumped.

“Sara, I feel like I’ve known you my whole life. Do you think that’s crazy?”

“No. It’s not crazy. I think the same thing.”

A slow grin spread across his face. “About that kiss….”

“Argh!” She laughed, hiding her eyes with her free hand. “I don’t know why I did that! I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be.” His laughter joined hers. “I’m glad you did it. Broke the ice for when I kiss you later.”

The laughter died in her throat. Rapid heat coursed through her body, waving over each limb until she quivered. “You are?”

“Yes. But why wait?” He pushed back from the table and knelt beside her chair before she realized what he was doing. He was so tall that, kneeling, his head was on the same level as hers. He cupped her face in his hands, drawing her close while the other students in the room cheered and whistled. His lips were warm, and his mouth tasted like pizza. She’d only kissed a few guys in high school and in the first months of her freshman year at State, but this was different. Somehow, Brent was not just a cute guy she could date and hang out with. There was something more happening. Something permanent with the stamp of a future on it.

Her cell phone buzzed in her jeans pocket. They broke off the kiss. He touched his forehead to hers, inhaling her breath.

“It’s my mom,” she whispered, her hands trembling around his neck. “She usually calls me around this time.”

His own phone beeped. “That’s my old man. Good timing, folks.” He kissed the tip of her nose, then stood, extending his hand and helping her from the chair in a gallant, old-fashioned way

“I’m not hungry,” she said, regarding their uneaten food.

“Me neither.”

“This sounds crazy….”

“I know….”

“…but I think I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

They stared at each other for a breathless moment, then erupted in laughter while a girl at a nearby table shot her an envious look.

“Let’s get out of here,” Brent muttered, draping his arm over her shoulder as they headed out of the building and into the winter sunshine.

TAKING A CHANCE ON FOREVER - New release on March 15!

2011-03-07T18:22:00.000-08:00

I'm so excited to announce the upcoming release of my sole contemporary romance, Taking A Chance on Forever. Bookstrand publishing is doing the honors. Here is the beautiful cover -

There's an excerpt on Bookstrand's site, and after the release, I will be posting an EXCLUSIVE mini-novella featuring the main characters' children, who are the main reason Kate and Dan get together in the first place! There are 2 love stories in this book, and I hope everyone enjoys it as much as I did writing it.

bookstrand/taking-a-chance-on-forever

Wishing a Christmas Filled with Love and Romance

2010-12-24T07:13:00.000-08:00

Merry Christmas to all readers, authors, editors, and agents! As we take time out of our hectic lives to enjoy the holidays, I hope we all look forward to next year, and new possibilities and adventures. There's a lot coming up for me - TARA chapter starting up again in January, numerous workshops and meetings for writing, Dad's 70th birthday, new release of TAKING A CHANCE ON FOREVER in March, and the RWA National Conference in New York I am hoping to attend. Also add a cruise to Mexico with the folks and family, and other small joys that make me look forward to next year.

I hope that all of you have a safe and peaceful holiday.

TAKING A CHANCE ON FOREVER has found a home!

2010-10-27T10:04:00.000-07:00

I'm so excited to announce that TACOF, my only contemporary, has found a publishing home. Once I sign the contract I'll announce the particulars, but the release date looks like March 2011! Wow, only 5 months to go!
Authors are often asked where they get their inspiration for a particular story, so here goes with this one. A college friend, Keith Dixon, wrote to me on FB and we exchanged photos and info about our families, etc. He mentioned that his 13 yr old son, Cooper, was thinking about attending our Alma Mater, Monmouth University, and I said my daughter, Megan, had also said that. His response was, "Hey! Wouldn't that be cool if they met in college and got married?" And so the germ of an idea implanted itself into my little brain. I started plotting a story of former lovers whose children meet in college (yikes! note to Keith's wife - we were only friends!!) and then the story became more about the former lovers. That's where the real story lay. In three months, I had the first draft completed. I only shopped it around to publishers for about 2 months before getting a positive response. This is the fastest I've been able to work in a long time.

Blurbs and excerpts will follow soon, on my website - http://www.annasmallbooks.com/.

That's all, folks!

Upcoming Book Signing at the Civil War!

2010-09-21T06:46:00.000-07:00

Well, a reenactment of it, anyway! My dear friend, Rob Baker, of the 8th Florida Regiment, Hardy's Brigade, has connected me with the Florida Reenactors for their annual Brooksville Raid, taking place the 3rd weekend in January, 2011! How exciting! I will be in period costume (have to bring my smelling salts and fan for all the bloodshed and cannon noise) and the kids and Mom are coming in costume, too! I'm friends with the Rebels, in this case, even though poor Jed was a Yankee officer! If you've never been to a reenactment, check your local historical society or just google. The guys I know go all over the place - even as far north as Andersonville, GA, site of the notorious prisoner of war camp.

History is everywhere! Immerse yourself!

I Visited Hawaii! (Through my book, anyway!)

2010-09-02T12:10:00.000-07:00

My friend at work, Angela, was gracious enough to send me this picture of herself deeply immersed in TAME THE WILD WIND, on beautiful Bellows Beach on Oahu! Thanks a lot, Angela!

What I'm Currently Working On (when the kids leave me alone!)

2010-09-01T10:48:00.000-07:00

I've got 3 or 4 books in my head and on the page at the moment: an attempt at "romantica" (don't laugh, please) which involves a 3,000 year old phantom haunting an intrepid ghost-chaser/archeologist, a werewolf-bounty hunter story set in the old American West (attempting dark and twisty, according to what the editors at this year's RWA want to see), and my only contemporary (and will probably remain so!), TAKING A CHANCE ON FOREVER, which I'm struggling with.

A lot of writers prefer to finish one book before moving on to the next, but I hate being stuck in one "world" when there are others clamoring to be written! Of course, this gives me plenty of WIPs instead of finished novels, but, hey - I've completed 8 books thus far.

I'll post an excerpt of HUNTED (the werewolf bounty hunter story) soon - the hero is a tasty bounty hunter chasing a gang of shapeshifting stagecoach robbers! Lots of secrets and darkness in this one.

Hope you like the new layout! Let me know what you think.

My book cover is an Affaire du Coeur HOT GUYZ semifinalist!

2010-08-23T12:55:00.000-07:00

What a happy surprise to see Jed listed beside 7 other fabulous books! Of course, I'm partial to my cowboy, but he's got some tough competition. I mean, who can resist a Highlander, for land's sake?!
Here's the URL to see the rest of the competition. If we win, I'll let everyone know!

http://www.affairedecoeur.com/hot_guyz_entries.php

How did Jed and Cassie get their names? Find out...

2010-08-02T08:51:00.000-07:00

I'm being interviewed today over at Cafe Pearl, a blog by my very talented friend, Julianne Draper! Please stop by and leave a comment. One lucky winner will receive a $10 certificate to Digibooks for an e-book of their choice.

I also share where I got Cassie's last name and Jed's first name!

Thanks for stopping by.

Here's the link: http://julismapsroom.blogspot.com/2010/08/guest-post-with-anna-small.html#comment-form

A 5-Star Review for Tame the Wild Wind

2010-07-02T08:10:00.001-07:00

Boy, I love getting these things! The book was reviewed by Julianne Draper for The Examiner. The link is below, but I've also included an excerpt! Here you go...

"Anna Small has created a bittersweet, and sexy, tale of reluctant trust, hope, and love that may (or, may I be evil and say, may not!) conquer all, that left me biting my nails for Jed and Cassie, and peopled it with a cast of colorful cast of characters that I’m sure any fan of Western romances, such as this one, will adore."

http://www.examiner.com/examiner/x-6332-Tampa-Books-Examiner~y2010m7d2-Anna-Small-debuts-with-an-intriguing-historical-romance

Guest blogging at the Prairie Chicks!

2010-04-15T17:26:00.000-07:00

I'm thrilled to be an honorary Prairie Chick on their blog, www.prairiechickswriteromance.blogspot.com. Yes, it's a mouthful, but very aptly named. I'll be giving away one paperback and one pdf to celebrate the release of TAME THE WILD WIND.

And, just to see who's reading this blog, if you write a comment, I'll send you a pdf download of the book! (the first three commenters get one!)

I'm officially an author!

2010-04-02T07:33:00.000-07:00

Today is the release date of my first published book. It's been almost 26 years since I first thought I would write a book. I didn't give much thought to research, plotting, character development, goals, conflicts, etc...all I knew was an English privateer was in love with a French governess on the eve of the French Revolution! So Captain Renne and Juliane were born. This book will probably never see the light of publication, and I read it now and then for a good laugh, but I'm also filled with amazement that I wrote a full length historical novel when I was only 16 years old. I had no deadlines, no outlines, no nothin'. I had a mother who read every page I wrote the day I wrote it, who typed it for me to submit to my first ever publisher (who promptly rejected me), and several friends in high school who took it in stride that their nerdy friend was writing exciting, romantic books they all enjoyed.

Here is the first official review of TAME THE WILD WIND. It says exactly what I wish I could say to potential readers. Thank you to all of those in my past, present, and future who have supported me, endured longwinded plot descriptions, indulged my quest for the largest costume book collection, and otherwise held my hand.

This review is from http://goteroticromance.blogspot.com/2010/04/tame-wild-wind-by-anna-small.html. Even though the blog title is about erotic romance, TTWW is not!

Tame the Wild Wind is a fresh take on a classic Western romance, complete with a Madam with a heart of gold, soiled doves, a marriage of convenience, and a rugged hero hiding from his past. The main characters are appealing, and the town of Silver Spring is populated by a cast of lively and engaging secondary characters. The reader can’t help rooting for Cassie and Jed to overcome the obstacles in their path to find the true love they both desire.
Posted by GOT EROTIC ROMANCE? at 7:32 AM

Thank you for reading!

Handsome hunks of the Old West

2009-09-05T16:14:00.000-07:00

Blogging on my publisher's site - cactus rose authors blog - about hero characterizations.

How to Write Your Synopsis Without Losing Your Mind

2009-08-26T08:40:00.001-07:00

I'm proud to say the following was printed as an article in the Tampa Area Romance Author's newsletter, The Scarlett Letter, as well as reprinted by various other RWA chapter newsletters! Hope it helps - enjoy!

I used to leave writing the synopsis until the end—makes sense, right? I soon figured out this meant wasted hours reading the darn book AGAIN to figure out what is actually happening when. There had to be a better way.
And there is! When I’m writing my WIP, I keep another document open that is simply numbered 1-20, or however many chapters I expect to write (you can always add or delete! Brilliant!). As I finish a chapter, I toggle to my other document and write a quick sketch of what just happened. When I’m finished with the rough draft, or at any time in between, I can read through this simple document and see the flow of the story. It’s a lot easier to get an overall picture of your GMC, character development, story arc, etc., than relying on notes, post-its, or memory. If I change, add, or delete a chapter, I adjust it on the synopsis worksheet, always trying to keep the worksheet as true to what’s actually in the chapter as possible. Before adapting this technique, I used to find that the synopsis described things that didn’t actually happen in the book!

Since the key to a good synopsis is focusing on WHAT HAPPENS, the battle is almost won. Now, you can polish it up. I also save it in different forms – a 1-2 page, a 3-5 page, and then a fully detailed synopsis. By cutting and pasting from the master document, I will then have whatever size synopsis the editor wants to see.

(Now, if I can only figure out a way for an editor to request it!)

Music for Inspiration

2009-08-23T07:04:00.000-07:00

Calling all romance authors - now the question is, what music do you often listen to while writing?
Depending on the historical era, I throw in a soundtrack - Pride & Prejudice (Kiera K version), Emma, etc...and for the rest, my old standby is Somewhere in Time, though the cd I have is very old - probably the oldest cd I own! I can't think of how many pages of Tame the Wild Wind were written to SIT on "continuous play" mode. Soft Mozart tunes and opera melodies are another favorite. I generally avoid music with words so it doesn't throw off concentration.
Other favorites are the soundtracks to Far and Away and The Last of the Mohicans, which is so beautiful. I find that the music alone is itself inspiration - since most writers "see" their stories as they write (I do), the background music is like my very own soundtrack to that movie in my head. Now, if only Amazon could enhance the Kindle to have various selections played while the reader is engrossed in a story. Hmmm - maybe I'll patent that idea!

Favorite Romantic Books (not necessarily romance novels)

2009-08-22T13:19:00.000-07:00

Ethan Frome - though forced to read this in high school, I later learned to appreciate it. I like the juxtaposition of the frozen winter and his frozen heart, and how Mattie later turns his life around. Sad ending, of course.

Jane Eyre - all time fave of a nanny turned bride. In the real world, many rich men didn't marry their kids' governesses and nannies back then, but Jane changes Mr. Rochester's life around. Always wanted to read Far Sargosa Sea, about his first wife (the loony locked in the tower) but never got it. One day.

Pride & Prejudice - the classic. Skip the P&P and Zombies version, though! I'll take Mr. Darcy without the kickass zombie moves, thank you. Lizzy is the perfect heroine - realistic, practical, and a romantic at heart.

Emma - favorite story of growing up with your future husband. Mr. Knightley is my fave Austen hero - he's forgiving, loyal, and devastatingly adorable (at least in the movie version!).

Wuthering Heights - is there any better love story than Heathcliff's and Cathy's? Even though she tortures him and makes his life a living hell by marrying the rich boy down the road, their love survives the grave. The Yorkshire moors are made only more intriguing when one ponders their ghosts, forever united, running around the heather.

All timer - Gone With the Wind! Scarlett is the quintessential heroine, though she is really not likable if one really studies the book. But Melanie is the other extreme, so we all like Scarlett. She's brave and daring, and loves with her whole heart.

Sense and Sensibility - Austen's other lovely story of sisters is a classic women's read. Marianne is embarrassingly like how I used to be as a lovestruck teen, but Elinor gives us hope that we may all blossom into refined women, though with a touch of romance in our lives.

What are your favorite love stories? Please share!

An Imaginary Interview with a Romance Author

2009-08-21T06:17:00.000-07:00

Q: Where do you get your ideas and inspiration?

A: This is the most common, but easiest question to answer. Sometimes a scene in a movie, or something I hear or read about, sparks something. For Tame the Wild Wind (comes out next May!), I had heard the term "claim jumper" and thought about what would happen if two people claimed the same piece of land. Take away their money and means to fight in court, and add a steamy southwestern backdrop - and you have a story! Sometimes a costume book will suggest a character.

Q: How do you choose characters' names?

A: I try not to pick ones based on people I know - and there will never be a character named Anna or any form of that for modesty reasons! But variations on the A names I do like - several of my novels have a heroine with an "A" name - The Emerald Hawk's Arianne, The Outlaw's Bride's Abigail, The Boundless Sea's Arabella, and The Captain's Lady's Amanda. I guess I choose "A names more often than not because, like most authors, as I'm writing, I see part of myself as the main character. It's easier to get into someone's head and write from their POV if I associate with them. But strangely, once the book is finished and I read it back, I am no longer that character but an innocent bystander! Incidentally, I would never name a heroine my daughter's name, even though she was named for Meggie in The Thorn Birds, one of my favorite novels. I also have a character naming book and try to pick names that fit the characters, often changing them early on until the fit is right. The Boundless Sea's Philip may change, but Arabella won't.

Q: Tell me about Miss Bennett in Love.

A: This is the first Regency novel I've written and I'm very excited and pleased with it. I still have final editing to do and some filler scenes, but it's pretty much done. Miss Bennett is Mary Bennett, the middle sister from Pride & Prejudice. It is not written in the vein of Jane Austen at all, but it is an accurately drawn historical novel. I always liked Mary's character and thought that, beneath her prim and austere exterior, lurked the heart of a true romantic. She meets a dashing colonel who is heir to an earldom. So our little Mary becomes a countess. I will be searching for an agent for this novel soon and hope it will be the "breakout" novel I've been waiting for! This is the first in a trilogy I plan to write about the younger sisters of P&P - so next will be Miss Darcy in Love, and Miss Lucas in Love.

Q: What is your inspiration for The Boundless Sea?

A: I have always loved Juliet's soliloquoy about "My love is as boundless as the boundless sea" and wanted to use it in a novel but never knew how. I love the ocean and everything to do with it, and wanted to center a novel around the sea. My hero, a former pirate hunter, Captain Philip Rathbone (surname will be changed, just don't know what at this point - but Rathbone is always my choice for a work in progress) has been summoned by, he believes, a love from his past. In truth, it is the daughter he's never heard of who's urged him to come to her mother's rescue. Set in the Spanish court and sweeping into the Caribbean, it's filled with dark priests, ruthless pirates, sea battles, and of course, true love and a treasure chest or two. The images I have of these characters are a Russell Crowe type and a Salma Hayek type. Wow - what a combo.

Kindertransport - by Jennifer Childers (WRP)

2009-08-21T06:12:00.001-07:00

Jen is a talented writer and sensitive soul. Kindertransport is her first published novel by my publisher, The Wild Rose Press. It's set in the turbulent times of Nazi Germany. The heroine, Erika, is a nurse in charge of physically challenged children, who, of course, were targeted by Hitler's regime for extermination. When Erika has to trust an SS officer to save the children, the story unfolds from there, in a mixture of intrigue, suspense, and romance, of course!

Check out the other Wild Rose Press authors and books at www.thewildrosepress.com. They have something for everyone - historical, inspirational, contemporary, and cowboys. Lots of cowboys! Whether you like your romance spicy or sweet, WRP is for you.

excerpt from The Boundless Sea - work in progress

2009-08-20T19:39:00.001-07:00

Scene of Philip and Arabella when they first meet…..

“Who goes there?” Philip strained his eyes in the darkness. A shadowy figure lurked behind the corner of the dank hold. He could hear the creature’s rapid breathing. A strong stench of fetid animal dung filled what little air there was. The ship rocked sideways, stirring up the smell. He clutched his handkerchief to his nose. The figure, whether man or beast, he could not tell, stepped into the feeble light. A broken bottle was wielded in its fist.
And then the creature spoke. The voice, though he had not heard it in seventeen years, was all too familiar.
“If you touch me, I will kill you.”
A thousand emotions, all of them disturbing, flowed through him. He blinked hard, adjusting his eyes to the dimness.
“Arabella?”
The bottle wavered. “Who are you? Did xxxxx send you down here to murder me?” She bit off a sharp laugh. “He need not have bothered, since the stench is enough to fell a bear.” Philip stepped forward, and Arabella faltered back with a gasp. “Stay where you are, sir!”
“Arabella, it’s me – it’s Philip.” And then, as if she wouldn’t have known him otherwise, he added, “Philip Rathbone.”
“I know who you are,” she breathed. The bottle fell to the floor. “What are you doing here?”
Her voice was even, measured, but he heard the falter. His heart leapt a little in his chest.
“Why, you sent for me. I came as quickly as I could, only I met with….” He took a few steps toward her and she stood her ground. In the faint light seeping through the cracks in the deck overhead, he could make out her features. Her brown eyes were dark orbs set against her pale complexion. Her full red lips, one of her most attractive features, looked tight and drawn. She put out her hand to touch him, eyes wide. He remained in place, watching her, fighing back the urge to take her in his arms….
Her fingers brushed his coat and she jumped. “My God, you are real,” she stammered. Her arm dropped to her side. Her eyes narrowed. “What do you mean, I sent for you? I have nothing to say to you, Philip Rathbone. Nothing whatsoever.” She whirled away from him, and he caught the faint whisper of a scent of roses clinging to her tangled dark hair as she walked.
He followed her. He always had. He pulled the torn and crumpled broadsheet from inside his coat, where he’d kept it close to his heart. He shook it in front of her.
“Is not this your writing, Arabella? I beg your pardon, I mean, Countess of Aragon?” The words were bitter in his mouth. How long had she waited to marry his rival, the one man he would sooner spit on than share a casual greeting? The betrayal still cut, even after so many years. But still, she had sent for him, and he’d come running, like a dog, his tail between his legs. Hoping for understanding…an explanation…anything.
She snatched the paper from him and stood under a brighter beam of light. She crushed it in her hand.
“Marguerite,” she said. She stared at him for a moment, her gaze lingering on his mouth. “My daughter,” she added.
He tried to hide his disgust and sorrow and rage. She’d bedded the Count as soon as he, Philip, had turned his back.
“Belated congratulations on the birth of your child,” he said, surprised his voice was so calm. “My regards to the proud father. How is the Count these days?”
Arabella chewed her lip until she tasted blood. How dare he? How could he speak to her after all he’d done to her? She longed to tell him the truth; how she’d been sick with grief, desolate, even, when he’d left her to pursue other adventures. Left her pregnant and alone, and at the mercy of a man such as Cesar, the Count of Aragon, who’d pretended to be her friend.
But years of court life had taught her many things. One was to never show her true feelings, but to wear a mask of indifference. She squared her shoulders and held her head high, as if she were in the Seville court rather than in the rolling bowels of a pirate ship.
“He is superb. I will give him your regards, if we can ever leave this wretched place.” Her cold gaze glanced up at his shoulders and across his chest. “You’re not as thin as you once were. Perhaps you will be useful to me.” She turned on her heel and he snatched her elbow before she could react. His left hand caught her right as she raised it to strike him a blow that would fell any other man. Any other man not severely and utterly in love with her.
She stared into his eyes, her own wide and bright with unshed tears. Philip felt the surging passion rise in him once more, but fought it down as he glanced at her throat, as pale and soft as an apricot’s blush. How many kisses had he placed there? How many nights had he caressed her, enjoying her maidenly blushes and sighs, until she’d given herself, freely and totally, to him?
“How could you do it?” he asked. He dropped her elbow, but his hand still clutched her wrist. It felt fragile and delicate in his hand. His grip eased. “How could you marry that….that….”
“Because I knew it would kill you,” she spat. A single tear slipped down her cheek, like dew on a roseleaf. “After what you did to me, I only wanted vengeance.” A sob tore from her, and she pulled at her arm. “Let go of me.”
He shook his head slowly. “You cannot know what your act of vengeance did to me.”
She gulped and shrugged. “Your cold heart will mend, I’m sure.”
He sneered at her. “And yours can never break, since it’s made of hard iron.” Rage and grief tore through her like a runaway stag. “You know nothing of my torment, of my pain! How quickly did you bed the fair lady xxxx? Was it the week you left me, or did you wait all of a month?”
“I have no children, no reminders of my broken vows, madam.” He finally released her hand. “Does she look like him? Double chin and warts on her ears?” He took a lock of her hair in his hand, meaning to tug on it, but at the familiar softness, he could only run his fingers through it. She stepped away from him and he dropped his arm.
“She is beautiful,” she whispered. Her gaze was on his mouth again. “She looks like your mother. She has her green eyes.” The hardened look around her lips faded, and he thought he was seeing her as he had years before, the night she’d snuck away from her father’s castle to the woodsman’s lodge where he’d waited for her….
“My…mother? How could she look like….”
Had it not been for her hands suddenly gripping his, he would have sunk to the filthy floor. And then she was in his arms, gasping his name and sobbing, her mouth heated softness against his. He tried to kiss her back, but was paralyzed with the stunning realization of her words, of the truth. He had a child…a daughter! Arabella had carried his child….
His hands floated over her middle, the ruined silk gown she wore a hindrance. He tried to imagine her belly large with his daughter, and cursed aloud his youthful xxxx that caused him to miss it. To betray her.
“Tell me,” he breathed, tasting her lips, sweet like honey from the hive. “Tell me about her.”
They were on the floor, and he’d pulled her onto his lap, his arms settling around her tight. He would never release her again.
She choked on a laugh, and pressed her warm cheek to his. “She is the most intelligent girl I have ever seen. She reminds me of your father. You will think so, too. She often baffled all of her tutors, and of course, Ces…” she bit off his name. “He was very indulgent. He treated her well, though he suspected she was not his.”
Philip closed his eyes and inhaled the scent clinging to her hair, her throat….She sucked in a calming breath, and her bosom rose and fell. As if watching in a dream, his hand slid up her waist to cup her breast. His fingers skimmed the rounded fullness peeking through her bodice. She shivered, and he drew her closer. Her gown must have been loose, because his hand could just slip beneath the fabric. The feel of her bare flesh against his palm was more than he could take.

Love Changes Everything

2009-08-20T18:36:00.000-07:00

Love, love changes everything
hands and faces, earth and sky
Love, love changes everything,
How you live and how you die
Love, can make the summer fly,
Or a night seem like a lifetime
Yes love, love changes everything,
Now I tremble at your name
Nothing in the world will ever be the same
Love, love changes everything,
Days are longer, words mean more
Love, love changes everything,
Pain is deeper, than before
Love, will turn your world around,
And that world will last forever
Yes, love, love changes everything,
Brings you glory, brings you shame
Nothing in the world will ever be the same
Off into the world we go,
Planning futures, shaping years
Love bursts in and suddenly,
All our wisdom disappears
Love, makes fools of everyone,
All the rules we make are broken
Yes, love, love changes everyone,
live or perish, in its flame
Love will never, never let you be the same
Love will never, never let you be the same

An old poem written years ago....

2009-08-20T07:07:00.000-07:00

On darkened nights I love to stare
and watch the moon dance in your hair,
or see the shadows as they creep
along your nose and curving cheek,
then change,and fade, and disappear
just when the twilight time is near.
You wonder why I do not sleep
and these long hours that I keep;
but why should I close my eyes
when all my dreams lay by my side?

April 14, 1988

Favorite poems and lines...

2009-08-18T20:43:00.000-07:00

How do I love thee? Let me count the ways....

I dream of a girl I used to know...I closed my eyes and she slipped away....

My love is as boundless as the boundless sea.

The search is over - love was with me all the while....

It was that long ago but it's all coming back to me now

In my heart there'll always be a place for you for all my life

There's a place for us. Somewhere, a place for us...peace and quiet and open air wait for us somewhere....

And so I come to you with open arms, nothing to hide

I don't want to close my eyes, don't want to fall asleep 'cause I'd miss you babe, and I don't want to miss a thing....

After all of the fire, after all the rain, I will be the flame....

And if you want it, you got it forever...I could just lay here beside you

Love, love changes everything. Days are longer, words mean more.....yes love, love changes everything....how i tremble at your name....nothing in the world will ever be the same....

say you'll share with me one love, one lifetime....say the word and I will follow you. Share each day with me, each night, each morning....anywhere you go let me go, too. Love me - that's all I ask of you....

Tonight, tonight - it all began tonight. I saw you and the world went away....for here you are, and what was just a world is a star....tonight

I don't care how you get here..get here if you can.....

Let me call you Sweetheart, I'm in love with you....

My love, there's only you in my life...the only thing that's right. My first love....you're every breath that I take, you're every step I make. And I...I want to share all my love with you. No one else will do....

"Well, you know what they say - it's better to have loved and lost, than to never have loved at all." "Oh yeah? Try it some time."

Your eyes are the eyes of a woman in love - and oh, how they give you away....your eyes are the eyes of a woman in love and may they gaze evermore into mine....

your heart understood mine. In the depths of the fragrant night, I listened with ravished soul to your beloved voice.

You have bewitched me, body and soul.

You'll stay forever this way. You are here in my heart and my heart will go on and on....

excerpt from my work in progress, The Boundless Sea

2009-08-17T18:29:00.000-07:00

She had never stopped loving him. A love like theirs had no end. From the first moment she'd seen him, so many years ago, her heart belonged to him. But even now, he could still doubt her.

"All those years ago," Arabella began, nestled in his arms as they lay in the private sanctuary of their large, four-poster bed, "did you ever feel...even once...that I'd stopped loving you?"

Philip stroked the tousled black curls from her shoulders, exposing her neck . Tiny goosebumps rose in reaction to his caress. "No," he admitted, curving his fingertip around her earlobe. He flicked at the pearl and pink crystal earring dangling from her ear. The earrings were the first gift he'd ever bestowed upon her, and she'd kept hem safe, all these years. "I never felt that. Did you? That I'd stopped loving you?"

She ran her hand up his ribs and curved her palm over his shoulder. Though the years had taken their toll on him, he was still as virile and strong as ever. She closed her eyes against the painful memories that lingered. But a few more weeks - a few more days - was all she needed to banish the pain for good and open her heart for a new life with him.

"I used to think it, when you went away...."

His arms tightened around her. She pressed her mouth to his chest, just over his heart. "And now?" he whispered.

Arabella sat up, straddling him, the thin silk sheet the only barrier between them. He sighed deeply and settled her onto him in a more satisfactory manner. She wriggled until he groaned, then leaned forward for a kiss.

"Hmm." She regarded him with a thoughtful look. He tugged at the thin ribbons tying her gauzy chemise around her shoulders. It slipped down to her waist, exposing the most exquisite pair of breasts he'd ever seen. He arched an eyebrow, waiting for her response.

"I would just like to say, Captain Rathbone, that you had better not stop loving me."

His arms stole around her waist, drawing her closer. His body reacted the only way it could, and he yanked the sheet away and rucked up her chemise.

"And if I do? What will my punishment be?"

She rose off his lap and slid down him, as if it were the most natural thing in the world, which it was. It had always been thus between them. Her inner muscles clenched him tightly, and her thighs gripped his sides. He longed to close his eyes, but the enraptured expression on her lovely face had captured his gaze. He held her as she rocked slowly on him, bringing them both to the brink.

"A millenia of being my slave," she said, her voice a husky whisper. "I shall never...never let you go." She shuddered in his arms, then cried out in joyful abandon.

His heart was full of love for her. Throughout the long, lonely years, she'd never given up hope. Had always known he would come for her.

"Then I shall never stop," he replied, and didn't.

Love...A Song that Never Ends?

2009-08-13T09:17:00.000-07:00

I was speaking with another writer recently about love - specifically, the long-lasting variety. We debated whether love fades with the passage of time and distance; if the powerful, all-encompassing strength of first love survives, or does it vanish, as light and frail as cherry blossoms on the wind?

So many books and movies would not exist without this question. Scarlett O'Hara clings to her love of Ashley throughout the war...throughout 1000 pages, for that matter! In The Count of Monte Cristo, the love between Edmond and Mercedes survives 16 years, to be reborn as deeply passionate as it was before.

The first romance novel I ever read was Twice Loved, by Lavyrle Spencer. The hero returns after being missing and pronounced dead for several years. Inthe book's opening, he walks into his wife's house, expecting to find everything the way he left it. To his great surprise, she has married his best friend. The rest of the book was a whirlwind ride, to say the least. And, yes, she goes back to her first husband, the hero who has clung to their love while trying to find her again.

So, what about love? Does it transcend time and space? Does it vanish, only to reappear at the glance upon an old photo, or the whiff of a beloved's perfume? Does it hover in the background of every day life, only to pop its head back into reality, urging, intent and feverish, remember me...I am still here... ?

In the movie, Dan in Real Life, Dan informs his teenage daughter, besotted with passionate love for the first time, "you cannot love someone after only knowing them for 3 days." At the end of the movie, he confesses his love for Marie, whom he has just met - "I love her, I love her, I love her, I love her...." Each phrase, each firmly stated belief, stresses how life-changing his love for her has become. Though it's only been a few days, his love is as deep and true as what his daughter feels. He learns, as we do, that love is an elusive gift. We have to choose how to give it, because once we do, we cannot take it back.

But how is it possible to love as strongly and deeply as in the beginning? How does love retain the initial spark of a first kiss? The first...everything? Does romance fade? Is romance - love?

Were it not for these questions, Shakespeare, Browning, Byron, and millions of others would have no subject matter. We can take it apart, analyze it forever...and still never come up with the right answer. Love does not respond to logic or physics. Like the universe, it is infinite. Juliet tells Romeo her love is as boundless as the sea. How many times have we seen greeting cards that tell the recipient to count all the grains of sand, or stars in the sky, to show how much we love? We tell our beloved, I love you - and it always implies - before, since, during, and after. I love you with all that I am, and all that I can ever hope to be. Love never dies. It has no end.

Why I write

2009-01-13T12:51:00.000-08:00

I write because I can't hold a movie of my story in my hands and show it to people. I write because I have to get all those characters and their problems out of my head. I write because I love to research and travel and explore...everything. I write because life is too short not to.