Back in 2006, I was looking for something to read and a bookseller, knowing my love of medievals and Templar Knights, suggested a new author and series to me – Lynn Viehl’s DARKYN series about a race of ‘vampires’ or the Darkyn who began in the Middle Ages. Intrigued, I read the first book in 2 days and went back for numbers 2 and 3 immediately. I’ve now read all of the series AND the spinoff KYNDRED series, too. And some short stories. . . and novellas. Yes, I am truly and well hooked on Lynn’s stories! So, when looking for a guest blogger, I contacted Lynn who is now beginning a new series for NAL – Disenchanted & Co.

Today, Lynn’s going to tell us about how she transitioned from vampires to, um, something else. Welcome, Lynn!

Trading Fangs for Fichus

            After writing about vampires for nine years, and publishing three paranormal romance series involving them, I was ready for a change of pace.  I wasn’t worried about making the leap; I’ve written in many genres, and I’m always ready to try something new.  As a ghostwriter I’d published some critically-acclaimed historical novels, but nothing under my own byline.  I’d also never tackled urban fantasy or mystery fiction.  This melded together with my love of history into an idea for a steampunk urban fantasy series in a historical era (and so it wouldn’t be left out, my SF side contributed a parallel universe.)

The idea seemed great, and I wrote a draft of the first novel during NaNoWriMo 2009.  At that point I discovered many of the differences between writing vampire fiction and non-vampire fiction.  Here’s a list of some important points:

Brotherhoods:  In non-vampire fiction these are typically made up of a less formidable crew who are not so inexplicably bonded, or engage in conflicts that last for centuries, or hang out in bars not getting intoxicated while discussing the many ways in which they despise humankind but still must protect them at all cost.  No, if your characters are in a brotherhood, they generally have the same mom and dad.

Day Job:  Unlike your vampire crew, your characters can seek employment with work hours that begin before sundown; this includes but is not limited to landscaping, lifeguarding or suntan oil testing.

Diet:  Your characters have to eat food.  This would be food that does not walk around on two legs, talk back or fall madly in love with them.

Emotional Relationships:  Your characters are free to form friendships, infatuations and/or fall in love with anyone they want, not just the one surly, resistant, combative individual whom Fate has chosen to be their lifemate.  They can also break up, end liaisons and get divorced without it condemning their former partner to an eternity of solitude.

Immortality:  While we’re on the topic of eternity, in regards to duration of existence, living forever is pretty much off the table completely.  Same goes for non-ageing — your characters will get older, sprout gray hairs, wrinkles, paunches, have midlife crises, go through menopause, etc.

Monologues:  When your characters rant it won’t be about all the millennia they’ve wandered the Earth, how tiresome it’s been to sleep with thousands of clueless humans, or what instantly-regenerative limb they’d sacrifice to be mortal again. Your characters are going to gripe about things like their unpaid bills, their unsympathetic boss, or the dog chewing to pieces their favorite boots.

Morphing Capabilities:  Your characters will no longer be able to flash fangs, make their pupils or irises take on an inhuman glow, or shift into huge, mindless, nightmarish beasts that lay waste to everything in their path.  The closest alternative you have here is like them wearing a really convincing costume at Halloween.

Non-instantaneous Healing:  When wounded, your characters will need a little more time than twelve seconds to recover.  When seriously wounded, your characters will be out of commission for some weeks.  And when fatally wounded, your characters will actually have the bad taste to die on you.

Settings:  The Arctic fortress of solitude, the elaborate underground warren of pre-WWII tunnels filled with priceless antiques, and the remote European castle secretly occupied since the Romans sacked Britannia aren’t really practical places for your characters to inhabit.  Plus they have no access to the unimaginable wealth they haven’t been squirreling away since the Black Death, so they really can’t afford them.

Superhuman powers:  This is also a bit of a problem with the non-vampiric sort.  You may invest your characters with a middling psychic talent or two, but bench pressing a Subaru, or leaping over the Chrysler Building in a single bound?  Not happening.

Although writing my new series has been a challenge in many other ways (no super convenient secret society of vampire haters to wreak havoc on the unsuspecting and blood-dependent), so far it’s been very enjoyable.  I may not have huge hulking immortal warriors to storm into a scene, but my Victorian lady private investigator, her gadget-loving inventor neighbor, the brothel madam BFF and the formidable death mage determined to carry off my lady PI do keep things interesting.   From fangs to fichus, that’s what is most important with whatever you write:  have fun with it.

    Lynn has graciously offered a lovely giveaway for one lucky person who comments today –

Lately, the Norwegian and I have made several day trips out of town to handle family business.  In the past, we’ve used our GPS, which we lovingly call “Emily,” because that’s what the company named the particular voice setting we use. Well, it turns out that Emily is a much better navigator than I am. Never mind it’s her job and she has most routes plotted out and stored in her electronic mind. How in the world could anyone else compete? Usually, I don’t. Because I am a terrible navigator.

However, on this trip we forgot Emily. Yes, went off without her. And we suffered for it because we were left to our own devices.  Actually, the Norwegian wasn’t too concerned because he has a “map ap” on his smart phone.  The words map ap should’ve been my first clue that we were in trouble.

We knew how to get to the outskirts of where we were going; then we decided to use his handy-dandy  map ap to guide us to the specific addresses we needed to find. Sounds simple, right?

The scene went something like this:

Norwegian (driving, hands me his cell phone): Just type in the address and follow the blinking dot. That purple line leads us to the address. Just make sure the blinking dot stays on the purple line.

Me:  Blinking dot? I want a list of streets, not a blinking dot.

Norwegian: No, you want the blinking dot because it will tell you where to turn before we get there.

Mind you, the display area is a 3.5 x 2 inch cell phone screen. I’m blind without my  reading glasses and  get a little woozy if I try to get up and walk around with them on, much less try to read something tiny in a moving car… because, of course, the Norwegian, bless his stubborn heart, would rather get lost than pull over and give me time to familiarize myself with his darned blinking dot map ap.

Still, I tried to be a good copilot and make it work. Despite how the blinking dot, which represented our car, seemed to be moving in a different direction than we were traveling. I turned the phone every which way trying to get the dot to move in the same direction. Soon, I thought I was getting the hang of it.  Until the Norwegian asked me the name of the street BEFORE we were supposed to make our turn. 

Me: I can’t read it. The print is too small.

Norwegian: Just do this (indicating that I should use my fingers to enlarge the screen).

I did this… and the blinking dot went off the screen. Panicking, I jabbed at the page trying to minimize it so the blinking dot would come back into frame, but a different page popped up – some sort of advertisement. Of course. I couldn’t figure out how to make the darn thing go away.

Me: Are you kidding me? Just tell me how to get to the darn page that lists the directions. If I’m going to navigate I have to use a system I can understand – unless you want to pull over and show me how to work this thing.

Norwegian (who kept driving on): How can you be so good at backseat driving, but so bad at navigating?

As I made a conscious decision to bite my tongue, I realized why our daughter says that when the Norwegian and I are in the car she sometimes feels as though she’s stuck in a Seinfeld scene featuring George Costanza’s parents. Poor girl.

How about you? Are you a better pilot or copilot? Do you have any funny road trip stories to share?

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RT Book Club gives CELEBRATION’S BRIDE 4.5 stars! They say, “…Her couples’ imperfections make them realistic and alluring and their love scenes are provocative and passionate.” CELEBRATION’S BRIDE, book four in the Celebrations, Inc. series, will hit the shelves in July.

from Mia Marlowe…

I’m the first to admit it. The porcupine and I have not exactly bonded.

I know, I know. Jaunty is our mascot and he’s been with the JQs much longer than me. I should show some respect.

But from the very beginning, I just wasn’t feeling the love. For one thing, I wasn’t expecting the high-handed (Excuse me, ought I to say “high-pawed?”) interview with the porcupine to which I had to submit when I first joined the group. Also, I’m not used to egotistical rodents who demand offerings of pine nuts. Or whine (Sorry, Jaunty, but you do sometimes get a “tone” going, you know!) that we ought to put him in our stories.

But the DH and I were in Rouen, France recently and I saw something there that made me think Jaunty just might have reason to have such a high opinion of himself.

Yep, that’s a porcupine with a golden crown on its pointed little head. (Hey! Don’t take offense, Jaunty. A porcupine is arguably covered with nothing but points!) Anyway, the crowned porcupine is the emblem associated with Louis XII of France who ruled from 1498-1515. He reformed the French legal system, lowered taxes and was adept at handling his nobles. Popular with his subjects, Louis was known as “The Father of his People.” He didn’t even run up the deficit, unlike previous and subsequent monarchs.

But lest our Jaunty get too puffed up, King Louis XII’s dealings with the ladies was nothing to write home about. He was forced to marry a distant relative when he was quite young. How young no one could be certain since there were no accurate records of his birth, but he argued that he had been under the age of consent, which was 14 at the time. Once he unexpectedly became king, he had the marriage annulled, but he didn’t claim he and Queen Joan were too closely related or that he’d been too young to have consented to the marriage. Louis testified that his wife was deformed and he couldn’t consummate the marriage because of it.

Needless to say, the lady was horrified and fought the charges with vehemence. However, the Pope had political reasons for supporting Louis, so the annulment was granted. (Joan entered a convent and was later canonized as a saint in 1950. After a husband like Louis, she deserved it!)

He then married Anne of Brittany and sired 4 stillborn sons and two live daughters. Louis was desperate to beget a male heir for France, so when Anne died in 1514, he lost no time in marrying Mary Tudor, sister of England’s Henry VIII. Three months later he died, reputedly from exhaustion from his exertions in the royal bedchamber, still without a male heir.

Who’s deformed now, Louis?

Anyway, I thought Jaunty might enjoy seeing his royal roots and how his illustrious many-times great-grandfather was commemorated in France. Does this make up for the lack of pine nuts?

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Click to order

Mia’s newest release One Night with a Rake is based on the very real historical race for the English crown. When Princess Charlotte died in 1817, the unmarried sons of King George III realized that if they could present their royal father with a legitimate grandchild, that child might one day sit on the throne. But not everyone wants to see the House of Hanover continue, so Lord Nathaniel plans to seduce Lady Georgette out of royal consideration, one delicious sin at a time…

To Purchase One Night with a Rake
Amazon
Barnes and Noble
Books-a-Million
IndieBound
Chapters/Indigo
Discover a New Love
Sourcebooks

Sourcebooks is offering a print copy of Waking Up with a Rake (Book 1 in the Royal Rake series) to one random commenter. US/Canada only. Here’s a question to get the discussion started:

History is often stranger than fiction. Honestly, I could not make some of this stuff up! How much actual history do you like in your historical romance?

Congratulations to Sheryl! Because of her comment on Mia’s One Night with a Rake tour stop here on June 5th, Sheryl was chosen to receive a print copy of Mia’s Waking Up with a Rake. Please email Mia (mia @ miamarlowe.com–remove spaces, of course!) with your mailing info.

If you didn’t win, don’t give up! Mia’s One Night with a Rake tour marches on. Leave a comment at each stop for a chance to win the first book in the Royal Rakes series. And be sure to order your own One Night with a Rake.

Every girl deserves one!

 The recipient of the $20 Lowe’s gift card  (from Terri’s Wednesday -The Nest Is Emptying blog) is. . . . .

Ellie!

   Check your email for info! And thanks to everyone for posting!

Terri B

Today is my first post here at The Jaunty Quills, and I must admit to being pretty excited about that.  Initially, I was in a stew about the post, to the point where I worked myself into a mini-anxiety attack.  So I did what any sane person does in that sort of situation:  I whimpered to one of the other Quills for help.  Fortunately, Shana had a great idea.  She suggested I introduce myself by telling readers a few things they might not know about me.  We all have facts or quirks about ourselves we like to share, right?  Here are five of mine!

– In addition to my Regency-set historical romances, I write contemporary romance and romantic suspense with my husband under the pen name of V. K. Sykes.  People often ask me how we work so closely together without killing each other.  Two words:  alcohol, chocolate.

– Although my primary residence is in Ottawa, Canada, hubby and I spend the winter in Florida, in a little cottage by a small lake.  As much as I love Canada, I am eternally grateful to have the ability to escape the Great White North for much of the winter.  It’s a recurring nightmare of mine that life circumstances will someday change so that I’m forced to spend the winter in Canada and the summer in Florida.

– The first romance novel I ever tried to write was a historical set in the Wild West.  It was in first person point of view and was truly awful.

– I could read by the time I was four years old.  Sadly, my first grade teacher held that against me, telling me that I was doing it all wrong.  Ditto for the fact that I was already starting to write by that age, too.

–  I have a new historical romance series coming out in December, called The Renegade Royals.  My editor just sent the first cover along this week, and I’d love to share it with you.

Okay, that last fact was a bit of blatant self-promotion, but you have to admit it’s a beautiful cover!  I’ve been spending way too much time this week staring at it when I should be writing.

So, what about you?  Do you have any secrets or quirks you’d like to share, or a little known fact about yourself?  Comment to win one of two copies of my latest V. K. Sykes sports romance, Curveball.

You know how sometimes things just work out the way they’re supposed to? Luck, fate, destiny, vibrational energies aligning … whatever you call the moment, it’s when, however briefly, the pieces of your life fall into place just the way they’re meant to.

I had one of those moments not that long ago. Having convinced my husband, Arizona, that we needed a second cat (I love our Lucy dearly, but she’s the Anticuddler), I headed to the shelter two towns over. As I drove, I worried over how to choose. How was I supposed to pick just one of the homeless kitties, and how could I guess which one would fit best into our little family?

Thinking hard, I zoomed along the highway, hitting my blinker to get over a lane as I headed over the bridge leading to my exit. Then, all of a sudden, the cars in front of me started doing the swerve-swerve-swerve thing that telegraphs “Eek! Something’s in the road!”

And a little black ball of fur went tumbling across two lanes.

My first thought was, “There’s my kitten!” My second was, “Oh, @$##, it’s going to die!”

Yep. Some cretin had thrown a kitten out the window on I-95, probably trying to get it over the bridge railing and into the water. It had landed on the road, but I’m not sure I’d call that a lucky break, as there was wall-to-wall traffic going sixty and changing lanes like crazy, with everyone honking like that was going to help.

I hit my hazards, pulled over and got out … but there was no way I could get to the poor little kitten, who was splayed flat, trying to hang onto the road as the cars whipped by, blowing it around. So I crouched down and called, “Here, kitty-kitty!” while inwardly thinking, Yeah, like that’s going to work.

But darned if that tiny black kitten didn’t turn its head, lock eyes with me, and come racing over, dodging a whole lot of cars like a game of Frogger, until it finally reached the breakdown lane and dove under my Subaru.

Figuring I was about to get thoroughly clawed, I reached down, grabbed the kitten out from behind my back tire, and held her to my chest … and little Pixel stuck her head under my chin and purred so loud she drowned out the traffic noise. Even a little banged up and a whole lot scared, she knew she had found her way home.

I felt the same way when I wrote Summer at Mustang Ridge, like I was in the right place at the right time. After a decade of penning romantic suspenses and dark paranormals as Jessica Andersen, newly married and ridiculously happy, I wanted to write lighter, funnier contemporary romances that go back to my roots as an animal lover, farm owner, and cowboy worshipper. So I was overjoyed when my editor loved the idea of a new series set at a family-run dude ranch, with all the romance of the Wyoming hills and all the comedy that comes from dropping a bunch of city slickers into the Wild West.

The first book, Summer at Mustang Ridge, is available now, and I hope you’ll check it out. In the meantime, I’d love to hear about your “right place at the right time” moment! All commenters will be entered to win a box of Wyoming-made cowboy chocolates and a tin of Buffalo Smooch lip balm!

For more info on Jesse, who’s just joined the Jaunty Quills as a regular blogger, visit www.JesseHayworth.com

Blog: http://jessehayworthbooks.blogspot.com

Newsletter: http://eepurl.com/y20U1

Facebook: authorjessehayworth

Twitter: @JesseHayworth

Amazon: http://www.amazon.com/Summer-at-Mustang-Ridge-ebook/dp/B009KUX83M/ref=tmm_kin_title_0

Other buy links: http://www.jessehayworth.com/SAMR.html

Excerpt: http://www.jessehayworth.com/SAMR-excerpt.html

“All who joy would win must share it.

 Happiness was born a Twin.” –Lord Byron.

My father loved poetry.  I adored my father; therefore I love poetry, too.  I’m sure there’s a name for this reasoning in the math or logic world, but I don’t know what it is. (Fallacy? )

Anyhow, as a result, I frequently interpret my life in famous quotes, which makes me very annoying to a lot of people.  This is not a deduction on my part.  They actually tell me so.

But I can’t help it.  Poetry isn’t just pretty.  Sometimes, it is capital-T Truth. Like this past Sunday night.  One of my books won a contest, and I didn’t have anyone to tell.

Well, I told the cat, who roused momentarily, in case “Holt Medallion” meant “tuna fish,” but then went back to sleep.

I was happy, of course.  I was.  Ecstatic.  Really.

But His Highness was out doing errands.  My son and daughter were busy being young and cool.  My special writer buddies were living their own lives.  It was Sunday night.  NBA finals night.  The Tonys night.  Let’s use that pizza coupon night.  Discover you’ve nothing to wear to work tomorrow and do emergency laundry night.

I couldn’t just start texting, busting into their family fun as if my news trumped all that. So I sent a few emails and waited.  And waited.  I felt like water trying to boil on a cold burner.

Finally, my husband came home, and all my considerate “remember you’re not the center of the universe” restraint evaporated.  I bounded out to him, ignoring his struggle to lug in heavy boxes, and shouted, “Hey!  Guess what about ME?”

He’s not the type to squee, but he is not a fool.  Despite having no idea what the Holt Medallion is, he grinned, made a big fuss, hugged me, and the pot finally began to boil.  Once all next-of-kin had been notified, I posted on Facebook.  The famous “like this” friendliness began to flood in, and suddenly I was bubbling over with joy like a crazy woman.

So, for me at least, Byron got it right.  Happiness really was born a twin.

(Hey…just occurred to me that my dad might have loved this quote because he, himself, was a twin!)

What about you?  Does an unshared joy feel a little flat?  Who is your go-to person–the one you can’t wait to tell?

Since this is my first post with the wonderful Jaunty Quills, and I’m so excited about having new friends to share the writing world with, I’m giving away books to three of the people who comment here.  If you win, you can choose either WILD FOR THE SHERIFF, the book that leads into my upcoming July release, or THE VINEYARD OF HOPES AND DREAMS, the book that just won the tuna fish…I mean Holt Medallion.

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I hope you’ll check out BETTING ON THE COWBOY, which will be available July 1. It’s the second in my Sisters of Bell River Ranch series from Harlequin Superromance.

Hubby and I are at that stage when the nest is emptying . . and not just for those temporary things like sleepovers or college. I never thought I would have a problem with it — I thought I had lots of things to do and would never really go through the heartache and angst that I always heard about. Now, of course, it realize it’s much more poignant than that – it’s really been happening all along the way as the kids grow up and take step after step away from us. It’s only when their room is empty that it all hits!

So, last year as two of three were officially out (even though one came back in for a while before he left again!), I began to plan my re-claiming of my house!

C’mon – you parents know!You put off buying the things you need because you want to buy what the kids need. One thing we put off (clearly for too long!) was a new mattress.  Two weeks ago, we bought a new one – and wow, what a difference! We got one of those ‘memory foam’ types and some of my back pain is easing!

And, of course, little by little, child by child, their stuff took over the house and mine got pushed and shoved into smaller and smaller places. My first computer was in the corner and the kitchen. Then it was in the corner of the storage room. Gradually I claimed the whole storage room – but it’s a really small room. As I wrote more and collected research books and storage files and supplies (and BOOKS), my space began to inch its way into other places — the living room bookshelves, the family room corner, the closet in the smaller bedroom.

Well, I finally made my stand just as number two son moved out — I was taking the larger of the two, now-empty bedrooms as my new office! Yay! I spent time browsing furniture websites like IKEA to find the perfect (and perfect amount) shelves to house and hold all those books that needed to be collected into one place. I bought a new desk but chose a color with the NEW OFFICE in mind.  The first big step is next — we’re getting some new carpet!

So, how about you? Do you spruce things up as you go or do you wait for things like ‘empty nest’ to make bigs changes? Have you gone through the ‘empty nest’ experience? Is there something in your house you’d change or will change? I just found a $20 Lowe’s gift card that might help a bit for one commenter who has something to do in their house!

   Terri is working on the next MacLerie Clan story and looking forward to new projects and characters! Stop by her website for more info about events, books, and news! 

In my new book, CELEBRATION’S BRIDE, which will be available June 18, the heroine, Sydney, has a history of being somewhat of a vagabond, moving every few years. Because of her tendency for itchy feet, she usually doesn’t accumulate many personal possessions so she can travel light.

Lately, the Norwegian has been contemplating retirement and we’ve been talking about downsizing and traveling. Naturally, that means I’ll have to pare down. I’m making peace with buying books for my Kindle. That way I’ll be able to take my library with me wherever we go because I couldn’t live without my books. There are several other special things I won’t be able to part with either.  Here are just a few of them: 

My animals (Marie is the cat; Samantha is the corgi). Of course, it’s a given that the animals will come with us.  Or if we travel abroad, the Crown Princess will care for them. Still, it will be difficult to leave them even temporarily.

My office is my sanctuary. I love going to work every day, and it’s a pleasure spending a lot of time in here. I have a huge glass-top desk. It’s not only great for working, but it also cleans up easily when I art journal on it. I have it sitting a third of the way out into the room, so that I face the door and my back is to the wall (my art table is in front of the desk along the left wall). I’ll probably have to downsize the desk when we move. But for now, here’s a picture of the left side and some of my favorite things I will definitely be able to take with me. That’s an inkwell with a feather pen that the Norwegian gave me for Christmas a few years ago; the “N” is a paperweight the Crown Princess gave me for Christmas; next to that is a “magic wand” Kathy Garbera gave me (and yes, it really works   );  behind that are two tea cups my good friend Mimi gave me; that’s a picture of the Norwegian and me in Paris; the smaller photo is me with the Crown Princess many moons ago, back in my auburn-hair days); that’s my prized Eiffel tower lamp and on it is a magnet of Berthe Morisot that Kathy G. sent me from London and a small beaded change purse that I found in an antique shop and couldn’t live without.

I have an art table in a corner of my office. The picture shows just the tip of the art supply iceberg. I have so much paint, paper and ephemera and stuff that might come in handy for a future art journal project. I don’t know how I will part with it. However, since the definition of  ephemera is transitory written or printed matter not meant to be retained or preserved, maybe that’s all the more reason I need to let it go…in due time. I mean, not tomorrow… or even next year… But I do need to think of what items I should put in a portable art journal kit.

Here are a few more of my favorite things that I will take with me:

Crown Princess made this for me for Mother’s Day. I wouldn’t part with it for anything.

This is a little tray of candles shaped like sweets. They are so pretty and absolutely calorie free.  

I love the double heart ornament that hangs from the ceiling fan in my office.

The Norwegian gave me these whimsical pens years ago. I’m not even sure they write anymore. Still, I keep them on a shelf in my office.

Stepping outside my office, into our backyard, we’ve planted a fabulous little herb garden. I’m so spoiled by the fresh herbs; I’ll have to buy potted ones since I won’t be able to take the garden with me when we go.

Finally, there’s my Don Juan rose bush. The Norwegian gave it to me for Mother’s Day several years ago. It’s in a large planter. So, we were actually able to bring it with us when we moved into this house five years ago. We’ll take it with us when we move again.

What do you have that would be difficult to give up?

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Be sure to check out CELEBRATION’S BRIDE, which will be available June 18. It’s book four of my Celebrations, Inc. series from Harlequin Special Edition.