Bromances…ahhh, bromances.  Butch and Sundance.  Batman and Robin. Holmes and Watson.   The MacKades, the Quinns.  Into threesomes?   How about Kirk, Spock and Bones.   Yep, all bromances.

I love romances (which I suppose is a given, since I’m a romance writer visiting  today on a site filled with awesome romance authors, right).   The give and take, the attraction and emotional growth, and the commitment that goes into seeing a relationship from spark to flame to burning embers – that’s a major part of what makes a romance so incredible to read.

But it’s also what makes a bromance awesome.   Whether it’s a hero’s best friend, a brother, or his comrade-in-arms—that kind of relationship adds so much to the story, to showing the depths of the hero’s character and really giving us a bigger picture of who he is.  I’m just as big a fan of BFF relationships and seeing the heroine through her bestie’s view.  But there’s something extra special about those hero connections.  Maybe because guy’s don’t seem to get quite as close as gals, or because as a rule, men aren’t quite as into the sharing of emotions as women *g * but I think those friendships add so much to a story.

Since it’s something I love reading, it makes it an extra pleasure for me when I find a way to bring that same element into my own books.  The friendship between the heroes in my current books, Blake Landon in A SEAL’s Seduction (2/13) and Cade Sullivan in A SEAL’s Surrender (3/13) was the starting point of these stories.  In part, because I love writing friendships for all the reason’s I already listed *g * But also because the incident that motivates both heroes emotional journeys in their stories is a shared one.  Both Blake and Cade are Navy SEALs (the titles sort of give that away, right) who, along with their best buddy Phil, have all served together since their BUDs training days.    When Phil is killed on a mission, both men face questions about their career, their lives and their commitments.

Want a peek at these guys?  Here’s a little excerpt from the opening scene of A SEAL’s Seduction.

            Cade Sullivan, Blake’s team commander and the third amigo, subtly came to attention.  With a quiet word and a brush of his hand over Mrs. Hawkins’ shoulder, he turned and strode across the lawn. 

            “Sir?”

            “I’m assigning your men leave.”

            Blake and Cade exchanged looks.  All it took was two seconds, a slight furrow of the brow and a shift of their shoulders to know both men were in perfect accord.  They didn’t want to go on leave.

            “Sir?”

            “Two weeks R&R, effective immediately.”

            For the second time since joining the Navy—and both in the space of the last few minutes—Blake wanted to protest an order.  He didn’t want time off.  He needed distraction.  Work.  A mission.  Preferably one that included blowing up large buildings and letting loose vast amounts of ammo. 

            Fury was like a storm, brewing and stewing inside him. 

            It needed an outlet.  The shooting range would work.  Or the base gym.

            As if reading his thoughts, the Admiral inclined his head, offered a stern look and added, “You’ve just finished a tense mission, and lost one of your own.  I hope you have places off-base to stay, as I’ll be leaving word at the gate that you’re on inactive duty until September seventeenth.”

            For a second, Cade’s usual charming façade cracked, the same anger Blake was dealing with showing in the other man’s vivid green eyes.  In an instant, it disappeared and his smile—the one that lulled friend and foe alike into thinking he was a nice guy—flashed.

            “Looks like it’s time for a trip home.  My father will be thrilled.  Thank you, Sir.  I’m sure the team will be excited about the R&R.”

            You had to admire Cade’s talent at lying.  The man had a way with sincerity, that, when added to that smile, was pure gold.  At least, it was if you weren’t the one he was conning.  The truth was, the team was going to be pissed, Cade hated visiting home and his father hated having him there.  Yet the guy still smiled like he’d just been pinned with the Congressional Medal of Honor. 

            That’s why Phil had always called Cade Slick.  Blake was Boy Scout.  By the book, a goody goody, his whole life was focused on being prepared.  On being the best SEAL he could be.  And Phil?  He’d been the Joker.  The last thing he’d said before that bomb had blown him in two?  Knock knock. 

            Knock knock. 

            Jaw clenched, Blake glared at the sleek black lines of the casket. 

Now, it wouldn’t be a love story if they fixed all those problems, just the two of them over a bottle of beer and a pizza.  It takes two very special women to bring them around to not only face their loss, but to figure out where they want to go next.  But that core bromance, that friendship, does help along the way.  And, of course, it gives for some fun scenes and interaction between these two very strong, very sexy and very independent guys.

Bromances are like bad boys.  I love reading them, but I don’t have to have them in every book to make it a keeper.  But they are something that always makes me sigh and sink into the book just a little deeper.

How about you?  Are you a fan of bromances?  What are some of your favorites?

Tawny Weber has been writing sassy, sexy romances since her first Harlequin Blaze hit the shelves in 2007.  A fan of Johnny Depp, cupcakes and color coordination, she spends a lot of her time shopping for cute shoes, scrapbooking and hanging out on Facebook. 

Readers can check out Tawny’s books at her website or join her Red Hot Readers Club for goodies like free reads, first chapter excerpts, recipes, insider story info and much more.  And for a limited time, she has a few open spots on her Street Team! 

Adventures in Inspiration

I haven’t written about my Writer’s Inspiration in a long while — that is, inspiration other than my characters tapping me on the shoulders and insisting that I write their books. But that’s really more Mandate than Inspiration. (I will always bow to the will of a pair of ardent lovers. I’m easy that way.)

What I have been doing lately is “pinning” the inspirations from my latest book, How To Be a Proper Lady. Have you discovered Pinterest yet? If yes, isn’t it fun!? If not, BEWARE: THERE BE DRAGONS! Pinterest is enormously addictive and will probably eventually suck everyone on the earth into it, causing world destruction like the Transformers or something, although I didn’t actually see that movie so I don’t know if the Transformers destroyed the world after all or not, so let’s go with the Zombie Apocalypse for a comparative instead. Thus, Pinterest equals the Zombie Apocalypse.

But I digress.

My point is that although I rarely use images to inspire characters before or while I’m writing a book, sometimes after I’ve written the book an image will appear to me as though it had been intended for that book all along. These are the images I’ve been “pinning” for How To Be a Proper Lady, and I should like to share a few of them with you lovely folks today.

All dressed up as a princess, and yet Eliza Doolittle is sober, pensive… sad.

Eliza flitted in and out of my mind while I wrote Miss Viola Carlyle in How To Be a Proper Lady. Kidnapped by her smuggler father when she was a girl, Viola spent her young womanhood as a rough and tumble sailor on the sea, only to be dragged from that life and hurled back into noble society at the age of five-and-twenty. Dressed up like a princess, she is no more settled in her new persona than Eliza at the Prince of Transylvania’s ball. For Viola believes that the man she loves does not love her.

She’s wrong. Thank goodness. I won’t go into detail here; that’s all in the book. Rather, he’s all in the book.

I shall admit that it is possible I may have glanced at this shot of Rodrigo Santoro once or twice or three times perhaps four or maybe fifty after writing Captain Jin Seton, a privateer for the Royal Navy and the man who has made it his mission to bring Viola home. The troubled lines of his brow, the purposeful stride, the ocean behind him and the Exceptionally Nice Chest suited Jin’s not-entirely-English and brutally violent history.

Speaking of not-entirely-English history as an inspiration…

… the breathtakingly beautiful Caribbean islandof Trinidad, an English possession in the year I set How To Be a Proper Lady, one small part of England’s ever-expanding empire.

You see, quite simply, I am in love with the British Empire of the early nineteenth century. From the sparkling chandeliers of Mayfair ballrooms and the storm-tossed cliffs of Scotland to merchant ships laden with eastern teas and tropical verandas shaded by palm trees, the vast, rich expanse of Britain in this era fills me with excitement. Why? Because its story at this time is a story of adventure, of hoards of gold sent across seas, of men and women from near and far crossing paths, forging alliances, building the empire that was destined to be the wealthiest and most influential power the world had seen in a millennium and a half.

It was a dangerous world, a breathtaking world, a world of violence and honor, of death and discovery, of wicked avarice and profound beauty.

It gives me such wonderful chills! And it is where I like best to set my heroes and heroines on their paths toward love. For I adore adventure; I cut my baby teeth on it as I lay in my crib and my eldest sister spun me tales of knights and princesses and epic quests. The dangers, the nobility, the honor, the heartbreak and then the sheer ecstasy of these sorts of love stories never failed to set my young heart to racing. They’re still my favorite kinds of romances, especially when mingled with the rules and niceties (and handsome lords) of Regency high society. I find the contrast positively delicious. And the British Empire had all of it.

Where does that leave my proto Eliza Doolittle, my poor twice-uprooted Viola, forced to train her work callused hands to dainty parasols and delicate teacups?

Searching the horizon for a sailor, of course. And making adventuresome plans of her own to win his heart…

What is your favorite adventure-romance, whether book or film? One randomly chosen commenter today will win a signed copy of my award-winning Captured by a Rogue Lord, during the writing of which, by the way, Jin Seton first told me he wanted his own book. But he didn’t tap me on the shoulder. He just stood there, arms crossed over his Exceptionally Nice Chest, looking very serious and not a little dangerous. Who was I to deny him?

(This giveaway is open internationally through Saturday, July 9.)

For more about How To Be a Proper Lady and Katharine’s other Regency historical romances, please visit her website at http://www.KatharineAshe.com .

Thanks for having me to visit, Higgins!

Today we’re going to talk about hot Englishmen. My June release, About Last Night, is set in London. It pairs Mary Catherine, a bad-girl heroine from Chicago, with an upper-crust English gentleman/banker hero. His name is Nev, but Cath usually calls him “City” because he works in the City of London (London’s financial district). City is, essentially, Prince Charming in a suit.

So why London?

Excellent question. I could pretend that I had lofty reasons having to do with character development and narrative arcs and market research and so forth, but, uh, no. The fact is, I think Englishmen are sexy. I’m a former college English major turned historian of Victorian Britain turned romance novelist. I’ve lived in and around London twice, which is long enough to observe all kinds of interesting differences but not long enough to really go native in any meaningful way. Which means it’s exactly the right amount of time to develop a lifelong crush on the English.

Why did I cast an Englishman as the hero of this book? I simply couldn’t resist. Because when you cast your fantasy Brit as the hero of your novel, you get to write scenes like this…

“I do have a weakness for the bacon-sandwich hangover cure,” she admitted. “But it seems a little lowbrow for you, City. I can’t imagine you drunk, much less hungover.”

He took a few steps closer and studied her, an unabashed appraisal that should have been rude or even scary but instead sent syrupy heat creeping through her abdomen. “Considering you don’t know my name, you seem to have a lot of ideas about me.”

Oh, she had ideas. She had a whole slew of new ideas about him, and she needed to find an exit strategy quick, because none of them was on the list of things she was supposed to be thinking about. Banker, she reminded herself. He’s a banker, a very boring banker. Enough already. Just, whatever you do, don’t flirt with him.

“I don’t need to know your name. I’ve seen you around, and I know your type.”

Aaaand she was flirting with him.

It won her a smirk. “What’s my type, then?”

“For starters, you come from money. You went to expensive boarding schools, graduated from either Oxford or Cambridge, and now you work at a bank in the City—thus the name.”

He frowned and wiped his hand over his mouth. What a mouth.

“Just let me know when I get something wrong,” she offered.

“By all means, carry on. You’re doing a brilliant job so far.”

“Which was it, Oxford or Cambridge?”

“Cambridge. Trinity College.”

She resisted the urge to gloat. Gloating was well outside the range of acceptable responses to City on this particular morning.

So is flirting with him.

Right. But it was so much fun. She hadn’t flirted in ages.

“Let’s see,” she said. “I know you like to jog. Judging by those shoulders and arms, I’d say you also row, yeah?”

“Some. I play rugby, too.” He gave her half a smile, and she made an effort to suppress the image of City in a rugby jersey with pink cheeks and dirty knees, tussling over a ball. A human orgasm.

Her good sense was now officially yelling Mayday!

She was now officially ignoring it.

“What do I do for fun, then?” He stepped even closer. This flirtation had turned into a two-way party. She needed to find a method of steering the conversation back toward bacon sandwiches and, say, the location of her skirt, because it probably wasn’t good that she could smell him now, and on this man linseed oil was an aphrodisiac.

“Well, you go to the symphony, spend weekends in the countryside, and date women who wear twinsets and have names like—”

Without the least bit of warning, he kissed her. Not a preamble sort of kiss, either. No, he really kissed her, one huge hand cupping the back of her neck, and his warm, firm lips knew exactly what they were doing, which was driving every single thought from her head. Only the man remained, the mouth, the sensations coursing through her, heating her up from the inside. Heating her up fast. Could all bankers kiss like this?

Cath rose on her toes, angling her mouth and pressing closer, but he pulled back a few inches. Then a few feet.

She wanted to say something. The only word that came out of her mouth was a shaky “Whoa.”

Fun, huh?

Now, it might be argued that Englishmen are not the darlings of contemporary romance. That there could, in fact, be sales ramifications for setting your book in London and casting a buttoned-up banker named “Neville Chamberlain” in the role of “hero.” And yeah, okay, that’s a valid point. We can’t get enough of those Regency dukes, but somehow the contemporary Englishman has a bad rep. Or at least, he has a rep for being less sexy than the Greek shipping magnates, the Italian sports car drivers, the American cowboys and sports heroes, the brooding Russians, the dirk-wielding Scots… but to that, I say “Nay!”

Nay! Englishmen are hot. It’s a fact. And if you don’t believe me, I know this book that might change your mind…

How about y’all — does an English accent make your knees go wobbly, or do you prefer your heroes homegrown? Comment away, and I’ll pick one random commenter to win a $10 gift card and a copy of the book from Amazon or Barnes and Noble!

Ruthie Knox figured out how to walk and read at the same time in the second grade, and she hasn’t looked up since. She spent her formative years hiding romance novels in her bedroom closet to avoid the merciless teasing of her brothers and imagining scenarios in which someone who looked remarkably like Daniel Day Lewis recognized her well-hidden sex appeal and rescued her from middle-class Midwestern obscurity. After graduating from Grinnell College with an English and history double major, she earned a Ph.D. in modern British history that she’s put to remarkably little use.

These days, she writes contemporary romance in which witty, down-to- earth characters find each other irresistible in their pajamas, though she freely admits this has yet to happen to her. Perhaps she needs more exciting pajamas. Her debut novel, Ride with Me, came out with Loveswept (Random House) in February.

Preorder/order links — only $2.99

Amazon — http://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B006XWY424

Barnes and Noble — http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/about-last-night-ruthie-knox/1108296251?ean=9780345535160

iBooks — http://itunes.apple.com/us/book/about-last-night/id479800484?mt=11

Want to find out more about Ruthie (one of Kristan’s favorite authors?)

Ruthie Knox website — http://www.ruthieknox.com/

Ruthie Knox on Facebook — http://www.facebook.com/ruthieknox

Follow @ruthieknox on Twitter — https://twitter.com/#!/RuthieKnox

The popularity of ABC’s Once Upon A Time and the release of movies based on the classic fairy tales Red Riding Hood, Snow White, Rapunzel and, less recently, Cinderella all speak to timeless nature of these stories from our childhood. The concepts of good defeating evil, of true love finding a way to bring lovers together despite the odds, and of someone from humble beginnings rising to meet challenges and earn a happy ending resonate for all of us. Sprinkle in some magic pixie dust, royal weddings, and a fairy godmother or two, and you’ve got the stuff of romantic daydreams.

I fell in love with fairy tales and romance stories as a little girl watching Walt Disney movies on the big screen. I had imaginary mouse friends I’d modeled after Cinderella’s pals Jacques and Gus, and I created my own stories of handsome princes coming to rescue me and sweep me off to their castles. Is it any wonder I became a romance writer? To this day, I get choked up when the music swells at the end of a Disney movie and the narrator speaks those magic words…”And they lived happily ever after.” Dreamy sigh.

When I sat down to write TRUST IN ME, I didn’t intend to draw parallels to the Cinderella story, but fairy tale references crept in, just the same. Soon I realized what I had, and the story really came to life for me. While not a strict retelling of Cinderella, I call the story my ‘Cinderfella’ book.

Kevin is a small town guy, working a blue collar job and struggling to get by. Claire is the wealthy and sheltered girl, searching for independence and a fresh start. More than once, Kevin rides to Claire’s rescue, much to her dismay, since she wants to learn to handle little crises on her own. Yet through his good deeds, Claire begins to see Kevin as more prince than pauper, more white knight than frog. For example, when Claire’s car won’t start, Kevin takes her home on his trusty steed…er, motorcycle. Here’s an excerpt:

He pulled up next to her and killed the engine. Tugging off the helmet, he extended it toward her. “Here, you wear this. I only have one, and I’d rather you wear it.”

She gaped at him a moment, unmoving, numb with trepidation.

“A m-motorcycle?”

His chestnut eyebrows whipped together. “Is that a problem? I guess I should have explained … I don’t have a car.”

“Is it safe?”

He grinned. “As long as we don’t crash.”

Her pulse jumped, sending adrenaline scampering through her blood. Her face must have reflected her doubts, because Kevin sobered quickly and raised a hand toward her. “Sorry, I guess I shouldn’t joke about it. I’ll drive slow, and you’ll be safe. I promise.”

The warmth and concern in his gaze reached deep inside her, calming her nerves more than his words could. Her soul seemed to know instinctively to trust Kevin. She accepted the helmet with a trembling hand and drew a slow breath for courage. Pulling the helmet on, she fastened the chin strap and lifted her gaze to Kevin for assurance she’d put the protective gear on correctly. 

He grinned, then slapped the seat behind him. “Swing a leg over and hold tight to me. On turns, lean with me.”

She nodded and took another deep breath, inhaling the aroma of sweat, leather and soap inside the helmet. The intoxicating blend of scents spun her senses in new directions, all centered around Kevin. She clambered onto the motorcycle, self-conscious over her lack of finesse. If Kevin noticed her fumbling, he had the courtesy not to comment. Thank goodness she’d worn slacks today, a concession to comfort her mother would have never approved of, but which now proved a good choice.

Kevin started the engine, and Claire wrapped her arms around his chest, pressing herself close to his broad back. The rumbling engine echoed the thrum of her pulse, and she squeezed her eyes shut.

As he prepared to drive away, Kevin shifted his weight, and the bike rocked. She gasped and clutched his shirt tighter.

Placing a hand on her leg, he gave her knee a quick squeeze and turned his head toward her. “You can trust me, you know. I’d never let you fall.”

I was tickled to learn that Romantic Times Book Reviews called TRUST IN ME “a thoroughly delightful romance.” I hope you’ll agree! TRUST IN ME is available for download from Amazon here: http://amzn.to/t2XHkr

Now it is your turn. Tell me why you love fairy tales and which fairy tale is your favorite, but hurry, the spell …okay, the comment period …only lasts until midnight ET on May 13. I’ll choose one comment at random on May 14 to win an ebook copy (so international readers can play too!) of either my award winning romantic suspense UNDER FIRE or REYN’S REDEMPTION (winner’s choice). Thanks and happy reading!

Beth Cornelison

Award winning author Beth Cornelison received her bachelor’s degree in Public Relations from the University of Georgia. After working in public relations for about a year, she moved with her husband to Louisiana, where she decided to pursue her love of writing fiction.

Since that time, she has won numerous honors for her work including a final in the Rita contest sponsored by the Romance Writers of America. She made her first sale to Silhouette Intimate Moments in June 2004 and has gone on to sell many more books to Harlequin/ Silhouette. She has also published with Five Star Expressions, Samhain Publishing, and Sourcebooks.

Beth has presented workshops across the country to numerous chapter meetings, conferences, online classes and book clubs. She lives in Louisiana with her husband, one son and a fluctuating number of cats who think they are people.

This blog is about marital disasters, a topic that may seem far from Paris in Love, but it feels terribly close in my current life.  Thankfully, my marriage is healthy and happy, but I’m in one of those periods in which everyone around me seems to be breaking up.  Oh, the stories I’m hearing…

It has made me really think about a question I’m being asked at signing events for Paris in Love.  “Given the title, who exactly is in love?”  The simplest answer is: me.  I fell in love with the city, and so I paid it the same loving attention that we give a new, adored person.  But I also fell in love with my children (again).  Given the time to really listen to them, I discovered that they are growing up into fascinating, complex, and very funny individuals.  I fell in love with my husband (again): we found each other again during the year, in an unexpectedly delightful twist to the year we ran away from home.  And finally, Paris in Love describes a romance we watched throughout the year, which ended with a romantic twist that even I—author of over twenty romances—couldn’t have dreamed up.

But let’s get back to marriages and their possible demise.  Not everybody can sell their house & cars, as we did, and simply fly away to a foreign country.  But almost everybody can arrange, somehow, to spend a day and a night away from home—perhaps by trading babysitting/house duties with friends who have kids.  I think it’s deeply important to run away from home, every once in a while, taking your partner with you.  I’d say that’s the best advice I can draw from Paris in Love.

What’s some advice you’d suggest, for friends who may be heading toward marital disaster?  What’s worked best in your life?

First off, I want to thank Shana and the JQ gang for inviting me to blog. I’m really looking forward to chatting with everyone.

The story idea for A Lady’s Revenge came from a scene that flashed through my mind of a young woman chained to a wooden table in a dungeon. What sparked the image is a mystery, but it intrigued me enough that I wrote it down. Thus, the beginning of my writing career.

Then came the hard part—answering the multitude of questions needed to create a story. What was her name? Why was she in a dungeon? Who held her captive? Where were they holding her? When I set out to answer these questions, I had no idea they would lead me to the Nexus, my fictional group of international spies. I thought it would be fun for us to meander through the process I took to create this elite group of spies, which eventually resulted in a three-book deal.

Now about those questions…

My heroine’s location: I couldn’t come up with a good reason for her to be held in an English dungeon, so I turned my eye toward England’s enemy—France. That was one of my easier questions to answer. Next, I had to determine why she was a prisoner in a French dungeon. My story takes place in the year 1804, which turned out to be perfect fodder for an English-French political conflict. This revelation eventually led to the realization that my heroine needed to be a spy. Perfect! Then all I had to do was make the small connection of her getting caught doing spylike things by the villain.

As you can see, each step took me deeper into a world of espionage. A world I knew nothing about. I spent hours researching and collecting a good deal of valuable information about the political unrest of the time, but I eventually plateaued. No matter how hard I looked, I couldn’t find a single reference to a spy network operating in the Regency period. Finally, I broke down and contacted a researcher used by one of my favorite historical authors. Within a few days, she found an article by Elizabeth Sparrow in The Historical Journal titled The Alien Office, 1792–1806. From there, she located Sparrow’s book Secret Service: British Agents in France, 1792–1815.  Ever heard the term “gold mine?”

In these two resources, I found a wealth of research on an administrative office of what would eventually evolve into Britain’s secret service. The Alien Office’s origins were decidedly not glamorous—unless you think post offices are adventurous. The British government—fearful of a civil uprising that would match the revolution in France—established the “foreign letter office” to open mail sent to and from foreign embassies and their governments. The mail was opened, copied, deciphered and then resealed before being forwarded onto its proper destination.

Where did the Nexus come into all this fabulous research? Sparrow’s investigation revealed that the Alien Office had a connection to both the Home and Foreign Offices. This bit of information was music to my ears. It gave my network of spies a home base. So I created the Nexus, a division of the Alien Office, which took its direction from the Foreign Office. Convoluted? I agree. Positioning the Nexus legitimately within the British government took a great deal of time, ingenuity, and a wonderful research assistant.

But I’m really happy with the result and so glad I sought professional help with the research. It was well worth the money.

Has your research led you to a wonderful and unexpected discovery? What was the most interesting thing you’ve ever learned while doing research for your story?

Please leave a comment by 9:00 pm (Central) for a chance to win a print copy of A Lady’s Revenge (U.S. and Canada only, please).

* * *

BRIEF SUMMARY OF A LADY’S REVENGE:

A British agent flees her French captor’s torturous dungeon and falls in love with the decoder responsible for her imprisonment.

British agent Cora deBeau has spent the last three years seducing secrets from the most hardened of French spies while searching for her parents’ killer. When her latest assignment goes awry, she suffers at the hands of her French captor until Guy Trevelyan, the Earl of Helsford and master cryptographer, saves her during a daring rescue. Scarred and wary of men, Cora shies away from the one man who could heal her savaged heart.

After rescuing Cora from a French dungeon, Guy discovers it was one of his deciphered messages that led to her captivity. Guy strives to earn her forgiveness while outwitting their enemy. But will he find the scars on her wounded soul run too deep?

* * *

ABOUT THE AUTHOR:

Tracey Devlyn writes historical romantic thrillers (translation: a slightly more grievous journey toward the heroine’s happy ending). An Illinois native, Tracey spends her evenings harassing her once-in-a-lifetime husband and her weekends torturing her characters. For more information on Tracey, including her Internet haunts, contest updates, and details on her upcoming novels, please visit her website at:

TraceyDevlyn.com  |  Twitter.com/TraceyDevlyn Facebook.com/AuthorTraceyDevlyn

LadyJanesSalonNaperville.com

BUY LINKS

Amazon | Barnes and Noble | The Book Depository

Begin as You Mean to Continue

First of all, thanks to all the Jaunty Quills and especially Margo Maguire, my lovely and talented host, for having me here today. Since I can pick my own topic, I decided to visit with you about the opening few sentences of a novel.

Think about the books you love. Chances are the first sentence is a grabber that sticks with you. The literary pantheon is filled with iconic openers:

1. Call me Ishmael.
2. It was the best of times. It was the worst of times.
3. There was a boy called Eustace Clarence Scrubb, and he almost deserved it.
4. It is a truth universally acknowledged, that a single man in possession of a good fortune, must be in want of a wife.
5. In a hole in the ground there lived a hobbit. Not a nasty, dirty, wet hole, filled with the ends of worms and an oozy smell, nor yet a dry, bare, sandy hole with nothing in it to sit down on or to eat: it was a hobbit-hole, and that means comfort.

Each one calls you into the special world of the story, sets the tone and gives you a sense of what sort of tale you’re in for. Authors only have a few sentences to grab a reader. That’s why I spend more time on the opening sentences of my books than any other because they’re just so important. And even though I’m intimidated about sharing the beginning of Touch of a Rogue with you after the memorable openers above, here is your introduction to the hero of my upcoming release:

The bed creaked out a merry rhythm of squeaks and scritches, like a chorus of tree frogs. The woman buried deep in the feather mattress moaned and gasped at the man’s exertions over her.

Unfortunately for Jacob Aubrey Preston, he was not the man in the bed. Instead, he was under it, tugging his trousers back up, with nothing to show for his evening except a deeper acquaintance with dust balls.

From that beginning, I hope you get the idea that Touch of a Rogue is going to be a funny, sensual adventure, especially once Jacob meets the widowed Countess of Cambourne. She’s a budding feminist who finds men convenient at times, but is reluctant to surrender the freedom of widowhood to one.

Just for fun, run go get the book you’re currently reading and share the opening line with us. Or you can name the book title and/or author of some of the first lines I shared. When you do, you’ll be entered in my drawing. Two lucky commenters are going to receive an advance reading copy of Touch of a Thief. Good luck!

Mia Marlowe’s Touch of a Thief (Feb. 28, 2012 Kensington) was recently named one of Publishers Weekly’s Top Ten Romances for Spring 2012! Mia loves to hear from readers, so please pop by her cyber-home at MiaMarlowe.com (Be sure to enter her contest while you’re there!) Or find her on Facebook and Twitter!

Comment for a chance to win SAPPHIRE AND DIAMOND EARRINGS

Last June my son, Travis, or Son One as I call him (some of you might remember him as RT’s Mr. Romance runner-up from a few years back–tee hee–you cannot imagine how fun it is to tease him about that) got married to a gorgeous young woman from Cameroon. Gorgeous young woman, as it happens, has an equally gorgeous son, who I will hereby refer to Grandson One or G-1. Anywhoo, a few months ago I pried my wallet open and took G-1 to see Untangled. You know the film-spunky heroine, sexy hero, opinionated horse, lots of hair. It was a fun flick and just about right for a six year old…or a romance writer…since it was basically a love story.

So after the credits were rolling away and the popcorn salt had been licked from every finger I turned to G-1 and asked what his favorite part of the movie was. Now remember…he’s a boy…he’s six…he’s being raised by macho 6’3” Son One. So what do you think his answer was? Anybody? No?

Well I’ll tell you…he didn’t pause, didn’t bat an eyelash, didn’t take time to breathe. He just said, “When they kissed.” Huh? I did a double take, did another take, then stared at him agog, because when he asked what my favorite part was I had to tell him the truth; It was when spunky heroine hit sexy hero with the frying pan…which by the by was quite often. I don’t know if you remember the film, but sexy hero spent about half the movie catatonic and I was more thrilled each time cast iron met skull.

So (note clever segue here) when I began writing Uncorked, my 7th Chrissy McMullen mystery, I wasn’t exactly sure how to begin. I mean, Chrissy is one of my favorite people in the entire solar system and she really deserves to be happy. She really deserves to be happy with the guy who makes her crazy…Lieutenant Jack Rivera. But where’s the fun in that? I mean…you can’t start out all cozy right? Where you gonna go from there?

With that thought in mind, I opened the book with a knock down drag out fight. In fact, in chapter one, Chrissy’s dating another guy. Granted, she can rarely remember Other Guy’s name when Rivera is within shouting distance, but she assures the good lieutenant that‘s she‘s crazy about…about…what’s his face. It made for tons of sexual tension. And if there’s anything I like better than seeing a guy hit in the head with a frying pan, it’s sexual tension.

So what about you? What’s your favorite part of a romance, the fighting or the flirting? Or do you need both to make it work?

To celebrate the online release of Uncorked, my 7th Chrissy McMullen novel, I’m giving away a pair of sapphire and diamond earrings to one much appreciated commenter.

Visit Lois’s website for news and information on her newest release, and a chance to win an Amazon gift card and be sure to check out Uncorked! You can follow Lois on Facebook and keep track of the Chrissy McMullen series here. Follow LoisGreiman on Twitter, too!

The JQs are thrilled to have Eloisa James guest blogging with us today, discussing her newest book, The Duke Is Mine, and one of its more, ah, colorful characters…

Sir Justin Fiebvre

My daughter has a terrible case of Bieber Fever. Just in case the details of this notable illness have passed you by, here are the symptoms:

1)    Her room is painted in three shades of purple, since that is Justin Bieber’s favorite color.

2)    There are three bulletin boards over her sofa, all covered with pictures of Justin torn out of Tiger Beat, occasionally with his beloved, Selena Gomez, and in one notable example, bare-chested (my husband disapproves of this one).

3)    To the right of the bulletin boards is a full-length concert poster of the Bieb.

4)    To the left of the bulletin boards is a black-and-white canvas close-up of…yes! Justin’s face.

5)    Over her desk?  A quote in vinyl lettering from one of his songs (it took her father and me a full hour to figure out how to transfer the letters to the wall).

Have I forgotten anything?

Well, there is the Justin nail polish (not that she uses it), and the Justin toothbrush, and the Justin singing doll…

Now you know why Sir Justin Fiebvre appears in The Duke is Mine:  because if your beloved daughter spends approximately 20 out of 24 hours of the day talking about Justin, at some point a writer has no recourse but to stick the fellow in a book.  He wears purple velvet, in case you’re wondering… and all the girls scream when he sings.  I think he’s going to be a literary hit;  Julia Quinn wrote me and said that he was her favorite character in the book (Sorry, Olivia and Quin!).

So if you could take any star from pop culture and shape him into a character in a romance, who would it be? Eloisa will be giving away a signed copy of When Beauty Tamed the Beast to two lucky commenters.

New York Times bestselling author Eloisa James writes historical romances for HarperCollins Publishers. Her novels have been published to great acclaim. A reviewer from USA Today wrote of Eloisa’s very first book that she “found herself devouring the book like a dieter with a Hershey bar”; later People Magazine raved that “romance writing does not get much better than this.” Her novels have repeatedly received starred reviews from Publishers’ Weekly and Library Journal and regularly appear on the best-seller lists.

Thanks to Kristan for inviting me to the Sisterhood today. It’s great to be here.

December is a big month for me.  After writing 30 books for Harlequin, my first mainstream novel BUSTED IN BOLLYWOOD is releasing into the big, wide world.

I love the colour, the vibrancy, the magic of Bollywood so what better way to indulge my interest than write a contemporary romance/romantic comedy/chicklit/women’s fiction novel.  With Bollywood as the star!

However, there’s another character in the book to rival Bollywood for billing…and that’s the food.

Indian food is sublime and I’ve layered as much spicy richness into the story as possible.

I’d like to share a little bit of that with you. Here’s my BOLLY-BITE for today:

LASSI

(a refreshing yoghurt drink, perfect for cooling down your mouth after a chilli-hot curry.)

INGREDIENTS:

500g yoghurt

1 cup water

2 tablespoons sugar

Few drops rosewater

Few ice cubes

METHOD:

Combine all the ingredients in a blender, and blend until smooth.

Pour in tall glasses and serve.

HINTS:

You can increase or decrease the water according to the desired thickness. In summer, I like this as a cooling drink but if you prefer it thicker, decrease the water.

Rosewater is a strong taste so experiment to your liking.

Mango lassi is delicious: fresh is best but mango puree or mango in tins can add a lush sweetness to this drink.

(If you’re interested in more Indian recipes, I’ll be posting dishes taken from the book over the next few weeks on my blog tour. I’d love to have everyone cook up a storm alongside me!)

If you could master one exotic dish to wow your friends at a dinner party, what would that dish be?

Leave a comment to be in the running to win an E-book of BUSTED IN BOLLYWOOD.

USA TODAY bestseller Nicola Marsh has written 30 books for Harlequin Romance & Presents series, and BUSTED IN BOLLYWOOD is her first mainstream contemporary romance. Think ‘Sex and the City’ meets ‘Eat, Pray, Love’.

Her other current release is INTERVIEW WITH THE DAREDEVIL (Harlequin Riva).

She loves chatting with readers and can be found on her website http://www.nicolamarsh.com blog http://nicolamarsh.blogspot.com Facebook http://facebook.com/NicolaMarshAuthor Twitter http://twitter.com/NicolaMarsh