There will be a giveaway - oh yes, there will

I've made a decision. There will be a giveaway here to celebrate the release of The Celtic Fan. I'd like to be able to go ahead and post pics, but I've put in a request to the artist to use one of her photos so everyone can see how beautiful it is. Hopefully I'll hear from her by tomorrow. If not, I'll just redirect everyone so they can go to her site and see it there.

It's getting closer!

Meatloaf! Grrrrrrrr!!!!!!

Tonight I made four batches of Nikki's meatloaf. Yeah, it's that good. I'll freeze a bunch of it. Here's what it looked like on my plate - it wasn't there long.

Why does my phone's camera make everything look an unappetizing shade of green? I have no idea. Just trust me, it tasted spectacular. To the right of it is boiled okra (the slimier the better) and at the bottom is roasted root vegetables (rutabagas, turnips, and carrots).

Then I found out that the guys all had custom aprons made for the girls. They're really cute.

For Nikki: "The cook in this apron is mine. Get your own. - Tony Walters"

For Laura: "I'm the only one who gets to see what's under this apron. Fuck off. - Vic Walters"

For Brittany: "Under this apron is the world's greatest mom. And my very own MILF. - Clayton Walters"

And Katie and Annabeth got themselves matching aprons: "We take turns in the kitchen. You're not invited."

Jeez, that Walters bunch. I wish my partner would come up with a cute apron for me. Nah - never gonna happen.

Oh, well, I'm off to scrub some meatloaf pans . . .

Cover Reveal Thirteen Years in the Making

It's finally here. I know some people have been very curious, and rightfully so. The manuscript was lost for thirteen years. The cover was a concept for at least that long. It was work to get the shot just right, but it turned out just as I'd dreamed it would for thirteen years, and I'm happy to finally get to share it with you.

I'd like to say a few thanks. First, to Mark Halliman, one half of a great photography crew. Nice job, very nice. It wasn't easy to get that shot, but you did it, and I'm grateful. And to the other half of that team who's also a pretty good cover artist: Thanks, Mrs. H!

Next, to Carrie Jones, a fabulous artist who drew, by hand, the tattoo art. You may not be able to see it well in this pic, but it's throughout the book. And it may very well be in that exact spot on my arm in a few weeks or months.

And last but not least, the cover model - ME! Yep, that's me on the cover in my corset and skirt. Even though it doesn't look it, the pose was challenging to maintain because of the way I was turned and leaning back. Good thing Mr. Photographer had a quick finger!

The Celtic Fan - available next Friday, Valentine's Day, in any electronic format you could possibly want and in print! Grab it, enjoy it, and tell your friends.

This was so much fun!

This is an interview I've got on The Romance Reviews. It was so much fun to do! I hope you'll take time to go over and read it, then come back here or to my website and tell me what you think.

The Romance Reviews

And remember . . . it's less than a week until the cover reveal for The Celtic Fan, although if you keep your eyes open, you just might see it before then. If you spot it, send me a message and tell me where. It's out there, I promise - you just have to look for it!

Here's hoping that damn rodent doesn't see his shadow tomorrow. And if he does . . . well, let's just say I'm looking for a recipe for groundhog stew!

Did you know I've got a new release?

I do! The newest Harper's Cove novella is out! Donna and Connor at 228 Harper's Cove is live and for sale on all the usual channels. This one is just as much fun as the others have been, and the next one will be lively too. I hope you'll check it out.

As of today, I've received the formatted files on all of the new releases except Adventurous Me, which goes to the formatting company tomorrow. And The Celtic Fan is barely two weeks from release. I'm really excited about it! Maybe I'll give you an excerpt in the next day or so. Keep watching!

Cover reveal!

The new covers for the Love Under Construction series are just days away from being live. Want to see? Here they are!

They were done by Novel Graphic Designs, and I think they're beautiful. The covers for the last two novels are already done, just waiting for them to be written!

And would you like an excerpt? I bet you would! Can I come up with something . . .

This is from The Celtic Fan, due out on Valentine's Day. It's one of my favorite passages. Enjoy!

     After about five or six pages, I noticed she wasn’t making a sound and hadn’t moved in several minutes. I stopped abruptly and turned to look at her. The light from the table lamp threw a golden glow on her skin, and her hair cascaded around her face in tiny wispy strands, casting pale, wavy shadows on her cheeks. Her lips were parted slightly, and her eyes were trained on me, waiting expectantly, begging me to go on. She was hungry for the sound of a human voice, to know she wasn’t alone, to feel connected. I knew that feeling well. It clung to me at times too, gnawing and cold.

     Unplanned, unthinking, I reached toward her and stroked her cheek. She bent her head downward, her eyes gazing up at me from under their lashes. With no hesitation, I leaned forward and kissed her. I expected her to gasp and pull away, or at least react in some fashion, but instead she seemed to have anticipated it. I felt her lean in too and begin to move toward me. She rested her hands on my shoulders, on either side of my neck, and her fingers traveled upward underneath my hair, around to the back of my head, pulling me closer. Any anxiety, any apprehension or uncertainty I felt began to melt away as she moved up against me. She pulled her legs up and across mine, and I wrapped my left arm around her waist, pulling her tighter against me. Her soft, warm lips opened as I pressed mine against them, and I kissed her long and deep, trying to draw her into me, begging her not to turn me loose or turn me away. Running a finger down the left side of my neck, she continued around my collarbone and down the center of my chest, across my ribs, and rested her hand lightly on the top of the waistband of my jeans. I found my hands pulling on the tail of her shirt, pulling it up, wandering underneath it, up her back. Her skin was warm and soft, and she trembled slightly as I stroked her. The sound of my heartbeat pounded in my ears, and I pulled back long enough to look into her eyes. There was no sign of fear in the crystal blue depths, just warmth mixed with a little playfulness. I smiled and, placing a palm on either side of her face, I bent her head down, kissing her on the forehead, and she instinctively rested her cheek on my shoulder. With both arms wrapped tightly around her waist, I held her close, feeling her breathe into my neck. Her left hand lay gently on my chest, and I could feel her heart beating against my ribcage. I knew she was strong, that she could take care of herself, and yet I wanted to protect her, shield her from the rain, from the world, even from me.

Excerpt, anyone?

Would you like one? Here's one from The Celtic Fan.

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     I pulled the top box out and carefully removed the lid. Yellowed tissue paper concealed the contents, and I placed the box on the dining room table, pulling back the paper from each side to examine the treasures.

     It was a tiny outfit, a white dress with the tiniest pink rosebuds, and a narrow pink bow at the neck between the sides of the rounded, lace-trimmed collar. The little ruffled panties underneath it were lined with rubbery plastic and carried the same rosebud design as the dress. With them was a pair of tiny socks, white nylon cuffed socks with pink lace sewn delicately around the edge of the cuff. In the bottom of the box was a tiny gold ring with a long length of the same narrow pink ribbon tied to it, just like the neckline bow. I pulled out another box, and found it held a pair of miniature blue jeans, a little elastic belt, and a tiny crewneck tee-shirt on which was emblazoned “Daddy’s Boy.” Lying flat inside the same box were a pair of size one high-topped tennis shoes, Nikes, their little shoelaces tied neatly, and a pair of baby-sized athletic socks, complete with red stripes around the calves. Her babies’ clothes. There had to be a dozen boxes, but I didn’t pull out another one. I wrapped the little garments as I’d found them and placed them back in the boxes, taking care to make everything look exactly as it was before, with the card on top of the boxes.

     There was a sudden, sharp pain in my gut, the pain of a woman who’d never held two of her children, and had only been able to cuddle and love a third for less than six months. It was a horror I couldn’t even imagine. Guilt swept over me, and my chest ached. I couldn’t snoop anymore. I decided if I needed to know anything else, I’d just ask. Knowing what had happened to her family made the sacredness of her belongings too intense, too personal. I dropped onto the sofa and picked up a couple of the pictorial books, thumbing through and reading the captions. That kept me busy for a while.