5 days from now When Tempting a Rogue hits the shelves. I’m always excited for release day, but this is the first time that I’ve been sad about it as well. When Tempting a Rogue is my last book as Kathryn Smith. For now, anyway.

While I’m really excited about the new things coming my way and the new books I’m writing under new names (Kady Cross, Kate Cross, Kate Locke), I’ve been Kathryn Smith my entire life. I’ve written as Kathryn Smith since I sold to Avon in 1999.

What it comes down to is that I feel like I’m giving up a bit of myself. I suppose it’s normal, and change always brings anxiety with it — even if it’s really good change. I have that incredible hopeful feeling about each of these new ventures and there’s endless possibilities ahead.

Yup, it’s terrifying.

So, I want to hear about big changes you’ve made. Big decisions that have led to wonderful — or maybe not so wonderful things. More importantly, I want to know if the risk was worth it. Oh, and don’t forget to pick up When Tempting a Rogue on your next trip to the bookstore. It might be a collector’s item one day.

When I began writing, I never thought about my author brand. I’m not a jar of peanut butter. I’m a person, right? Well, it turns out your author brand is kind of important because it’s reflected in your titles and covers and, obviously, your stories. My stories are different from everyone else’s stories, and I don’t mean that I write historicals and Kristan and Cindy write contemporaries. I mean, my historicals are different from Margo’s and Robyn’s too.

So what is my brand? What makes my stories unique?

I write books set around the Regency period of England. It’s referred to as the Regency because the Prince was declared regent and took control of his father’s powers when George III went quite mad. Actually, the Regency didn’t officially begin until 1810, and my stories are usually set in the early 1800s, but they’re still considered more Regency (lighter and faster) in tone than Georgian (a bit darker, heavier).

I write books that have a lot of adventure. My heroes and heroines are often threatened, shot at, forced to abscond through windows, and quick to jump on a schooner for Calais. They sneak into prisons, break into buildings, steal carriages, and all around get into quite a lot of trouble. My stories are fast-paced and exciting.

My heroes and heroines fall in love. First and foremost, I write romances. I write about a man and a woman who meet (or meet again) and fall madly in love. The road to true love is never easy, but they manage to find their way—while dodging a few bullets or cannonballs, as the case may be.

And this is why I’m so excited that I’m being re-branded. The cover for my next release, Lord and Lady Spy, reflects this re-branding. I’m going to have bolder titles and covers that really illustrate the kinds of stories I write.

The downside is that those of you looking for The Making of a Rogue are going to have to wait a little longer. It’s getting a whole new look (though the story will not change). It will be released February 2012, and the title may change. Click here to read early praise for the book.

In the meantime, I hope you’re excited that Lord and Lady Spy is now a September release! Here’s a little sneak-peek.

Meet Lord and Lady Smythe, England’s preeminent spies. Their identities are guarded even from each other. After years of secrets and lies, their marriage is little more than a crumbling façade. But even love isn’t as important as The Mission—to defeat Napoleon Bonaparte.

All’s fair in love and war.

Okay Treasure Me has been out for about a month now and the reader feedback has been great. But if you haven’t picked up your copy, here’s a little inside peek to whet your whistle, so to speak. Enjoy.

Loch Ness, Scotland 1888

Vanessa made her way quickly through the noisy pub and took a seat at an empty table. Heavy wood paneling covered nearly every surface in the room. The floor currently acted as a small pool for spilled ale. But she needed to eat.
Gingerly she opened Jeremy’s notes and smoothed her hand across them. This was precisely the sort of place that Jeremy would balk at entering. He would despair at even laying his precious notes on the sticky surface. So she did it regardless, knowing that he wouldn’t be needing them anymore. Furthermore, he shouldn’t have left them lying around while he was off dallying with Violet.
All around her, large and hairy Scottish men sat at the tables slamming their mugs together, cursing and picking fights with one another. Were it not for her considerable practice at ignoring noise to focus on work, she might have been more distracted.
So Vanessa was quite used to pretending that nothing around her was meant for her attention. A skill that had come in handy on more than one occasion when she’d been stuck beside a bore at a dinner party. Or been persuaded to dance with an arrogant, yet ignorant, oaf at a soiree. She’d learned such a skill at home with her family where her mother and sisters spoke of nothing more than the next social engagement and which fabrics best complimented their coloring. Of course, they tried to include her, but Vanessa found none of that the least bit interesting. Instead she wanted to read or study, or more precisely, she wanted to dig. But until this very trip, she hadn’t yet gotten the opportunity.
Now Vanessa was finally here. Here in Scotland where the history was mixed heavily with myth, and the soil was rich with undiscovered fossils, all waiting for her to unearth and categorize them. First thing tomorrow morning, she would hike over to those castle ruins and find her way into the caverns beneath. Jeremy was wrong about Mr. McElroy’s discovery, and if the poor Scotsman were still alive, she’d find him to tell him so. It had been a point of contention between her and her would-be-husband, but he’d taken the time to listen to her argument. She’d thought he’d been weighing her hypothesis. Now though, she believed that he’d merely been humoring her. Well, she would prove him wrong—him and the rest of the scientific community who believed her to be utterly unqualified.
She had tried to argue Mr. McElroy’s point by sending in several letters supporting his theory that the bone belonged to what the Scots called the water kelpie. But not one of them had been printed in any of the scientific journals. No, Vanessa didn’t believe a mystical creature still lived in those peat-stained waters. But something had lived there many years ago, and the evidence was just waiting for her discovery.
She put the tip of her pencil between her teeth as she collected her thoughts, then she jotted down a note.
“What’s a purty lass like you doin’ all alone?” A large necked man plopped into the empty chair adjacent to hers. His thick brogue, laced with inebriation, took some concentration to understand. As he looked over her notebook, his nose wrinkled. “What are you doing there in that book?”
She closed the pages over her hand to mark her spot and glanced at him above her spectacles. “I am working, sir, and you are disturbing me.” Perhaps she should have stayed in her room. But she’d been hungry, and the barmaid had said this was the only place she could eat. So she’d sat to wait for her lamb stew.
He laughed, a gritty, dark sound. “Disturbing you, am I? Well, we’ll see about that.” He reached over, and with one swift pull, he’d yanked her onto his lap, knocking the notebook to the floor in the process. She struggled against him, kicking at his legs and trying to pound on his chest, but he clasped both her wrists in his vice-like grip.
“Unhand me, sir!” she said loudly, continuing to fight. She eyed Jeremy’s notebook lying facedown on the filthy floor. As gratifying as it might be to destroy something of his, she needed that research. “I must collect my notes!”
“I don’t think so. You’re a nice little morsel, aren’t you?” He buried his face in her hair. “And you smell real nice. Like flowers and honey.”
Vanessa’s heart thundered in her chest, the sound reverberating to pound in her ears. She had not carefully weighed the situation before she’d acted. She’d been so focused on her research, so intent on her own purpose, that she hadn’t bothered to think about this new environment. This was not the sort of place that a well-bred lady would travel alone. Yet here she was. Not very smart of her, she now acknowledged. This was precisely the impetuous behavior that her mother found so taxing.
But there was no need to panic; that’s the reaction her sisters would have. Vanessa, though, was level-headed and generally good at sizing up challenging situations. This one would be no different. She merely needed to stay calm, keep her wits about her, and figure out a way to escape. Perhaps she should simply jerk herself away and run up to her room. But with the current hold the man had on her, freeing herself was impossible. She could call for help. Perhaps people simply didn’t realize that she wasn’t interested in being handled by this man. Certainly a crowd this size would not allow this man to truly harm her.
But as three other large Scots stood and moved to her table, each of their expressions more lascivious than the next, she began to doubt her convictions. These men would not protect her. They would assist her assailant. She saw the great error in her logic. She had grossly underestimated her situation, and now she was in serious trouble. She doubled her efforts. Her legs kicked out, trying in vain to wiggle free from the man’s hold.
“What do we have here, Angus?” one man asked as he straddled a chair next to them. He ran a rough hand down Vanessa’s cheek.
She frowned at him and tried to pull away from his offensive touch. Had her hands been free, she would have walloped him good. Boxed his ears, or poked him in the eyes.
“A fine piece of muslin,” another man said. He moved his eyebrows up and down in a move that Vanessa could only assume meant he found her attractive. The irony of the situation was not lost on her. Finally she had a man sexually interested in her, something her mother had spent hours fretting about. But eligible, appropriate men, they were not.
The man who’d imprisoned her on his lap—Angus, the other man had called him–was trying to run his hand up her leg, but she managed to deflect his efforts with an elbow to his abdomen. The man next to him yanked on her hair, pulling her head back so she could see his grimy face above hers. His yellowed teeth smelled foul, a mixture of ale and rot. Her eyes watered.
“Oh there you are, love,” another voice said from behind her. “I’d ask you kindly to remove your hands from my intended.”
She could not see the owner of the voice, but this man sounded different from the others. While his voice still had the lilt of a Scottish brogue, his tone was more refined, cleaner around the edges. Though his words were polite, his tone was edged with a threat.
“Your intended?” Angus asked.
“Aye. I said let her go.”
“As you wish,” the man said, then he dumped Vanessa onto the hard wood-planked floor.
Vanessa landed with a thud, her wool dress splayed around her, revealing both ankles. A hand reached out to pull her to her feet. She snatched her notebook on the way up.
She looked up and found herself staring into the most alarmingly handsome face she’d ever seen. His long brown hair hung to his shoulders in a wild and unkempt way, but she could tell he’d washed it recently, not at all like the greasy, matted manes of the other men. A day’s worth of beard covered his cheeks and chin, but did nothing to hide his sensual mouth, which quirked in a subtle grin. But it was his crystal clear green eyes that seemed to void her vocabulary. She nodded like a simpleton.
He held her close to his side. So far, no one had resorted to fisticuffs, but two of the Scots still held a stance that suggested they might swing a punch at any moment. Vanessa found herself holding her breath, so she exhaled slowly.
“So, English,” Angus said, sizing up her rescuer. “You’ve come back to the wilds of the hills, have you?”
“Fits you’d find yourself a pretty Lady to wed,” another said. “What’s the matter, the local skirts aren’t good enough for the likes of you?” Guffaws of laughter surrounded them.
This close to her rescuer, she could smell him. A delicious combination of soap and leather and the pure smell of the clean Highland air filled her nose. She caught herself before she closed her eyes to inhale.
“Did you bring her home to wed her properly?” Angus asked with a wide grin that highlighted his foul teeth.
“None of your damned business,” her savior said. But she noted a slight tick in his jaw line.
“A true Scot would wed her here and now,” Angus taunted with narrowed eyes.
“Wed her, then bed her,” the other agreed with a grin.
“What’s the matter, English?” another asked.
Vanessa noticed how the man at her side clinched his fist that rested at her waist. Her savior never once met her gaze as he looked at the other men in the tavern. They were all slightly smaller than he, but two of them were as broad. Still he was only one man.
“English won’t do it,” Angus said.
“He ain’t a real Scot,” the other said. “Too much blue blood.”
The taunting reminded Vanessa of her young cousins who teased and quipped back and forth, goading each other into doing something unpleasant. Children’s folly, nothing more. But suddenly she realized how quiet the room had fallen. It had been so loud, full of boisterous voices and music coming from an old harpsichord in the corner of the room. Everyone waited, listening for what would happen between her defender and the wretched men who’d attacked her.
“Mavis,” Angus yelled. Then he held up his hand. A moment later, a rope soared across the pub, and he caught it in his fist. He took a step toward them. “Well, are you a real Scot or no’?”
“Nah, he’s an English,” the other man said.
At long last, the man protecting her, glanced down and met her gaze. His pure green eyes met hers, and her mouth went completely dry. She’d never been one to become lathered by the appearance of men. Her sisters had certainly fallen into fits of hysteria when handsome men had expressed interest in them, but Vanessa had never looked up much to take notice. But with this man, his rugged handsomeness was hard to ignore. She pushed her spectacles back up the bridge of her nose.
“We’ll do the ceremony,” he said in his low baritone voice. “I’ll marry her right now.”
Before Vanessa could ask any questions, she found herself facing the large stranger and both their right hands were tied together with the rope. The man before her repeated vows, and then nodded to her when it was her turn.
Vanessa tugged on her hand and realized it was indeed tied quite firmly to the man with the beautiful green eyes. The stench of the other men around her assaulted her senses. “Marry this man?” she asked softly, more to herself than anyone in particular.
Loud cheers surged around her, and if she wasn’t mistaken, she’d just accidentally married a Scotsman.

So as far as excerpts go, what are your favorite kinds? Do you like the first meet scene? Or a steamy scene? What kind of scene really makes you head to the store to pick up the book? I have a copy of Treasure Me and a copy of Emily McKay’s Seduced: The Unexpected Virgin ready to mail out to one lucky reader. Just comment to win.

Well, it’s been in stores for a couple of weeks and hopefully those of you who’ve been looking for it have been able to get your hands on Treasure Me. So far it’s reviewed very well, which is always nice, and the blog tour went great, perhaps some of you followed and have had a chance to win some books. But as I always do here on the Jaunty Quills, I like to give our loyal readers the first behind the scenes look at my new release.

Treasure Me is the third and final installment of my Legend Hunters trilogy and I must admit leaving these men behind makes me a little sad. I’ve had such great fun weaving these stories, coming up with the danger and adventure and spinning my own version of myths we all love. In Treasure Me we head to Loch Ness in search of a few treasures, one of which hidden in the caves beneath Urquhart Castle and the other the famed biblical relic, the Stone of Destiny (which coincidentally can be seen in The King’s Speech). It pairs up Graeme whom readers met in Seduce Me, he’s the scottie-hottie and Vanessa, a scholar in her own right, she’s an amateur paleontologist. Oh and there’s another familiar face from Seduce Me, The Raven returns which I think readers will like, I certainly heard from plenty of you that you loved his nastiness.

So here are my inspirations for my characters. And some of the reviews that have come in…“4 ½ star TOP PICK! The Legend Hunters, those seekers of treasures and myths, return for their last enthralling adventure/romance … fast-paced, thrilling, roller-coaster tale … Not only does DeHart satisfy readers craving adventure, she adds three-dimensional characters and a passionate love story that will delight.” RT BookReviews

“We have a winner! A perfect 10. [DeHart] weaves a story like a fine tapestry – rich, colorful and compelling but so tightly bound there are never any holes… hooked me from page one and left me ravenous for more at the end.” The Season

“… a fabulous tale that grips the audience from start to finish as if Indiana Jones was working Victorian Scotland.” Harriet Klausner

“Robyn DeHart has become one of my favorite authors…where she shines is in creating character…continued her series with a book chock full of fun and adventure, not neglecting steamy, tender (and sometimes hilarious) love scenes. DeHart’s romances are tender and adventurous, and funny enough you may laugh your nethers off.” FreshFiction

“I was hooked on the first page and could not put this book down, I fell asleep with it in my hand lol. I rated this book a HIGH 5 out of 5. Fantastic read.” NightOwlReviews

“DeHart delivers plenty of adventure and suspense along with the romance: secret passages, ancient encoded texts, and a double helping of theft, blackmail, kidnapping, and murder.” Publishers Weekly

Okay so you can thank me now for the lovely picture of Gerard Butler cause yummy! Yes, I got to look at that while I was writing this book. How awesome is my job?! The best part is casting my hero because I have to look at tons of pictures of hot men, it’s all purely research, I just want to make you readers happy. But I digress, so back to Treasure Me. It’s in stores, it’s great and you can look at that picture of Gerard while you read it, you have my permission, tell your husbands, it’s part of your job as a reader to get the appropriate image in your mind of my character. Now go forth and buy.

And tell me what’s in your to-be-read pile right now?

Jaunty P. Quills: Hello! It’s me, Jaunty P. Quills, Porcupine Extraordinaire. Did you miss me? Never mind. Of course, you did! I missed you too. In fact, I cut my vacation short when I heard Robyn DeHart has a new book out and (pine cone roll, please)…it’s about me! Finally, my favorite Quill, Robyn (hear that, Kristan Not-My-Favorite Higgins?), has seen fit to immortalize me. I must say, this is long overdue.

Robyn: Jaunty, I hate to disappoint you, but you aren’t featured in my book.

Jaunty P. Quills: I don’t understand! I read on your website the book features an exciting adventure whereby two legend hunters search for a legendary beast. Darling, look no further. I am that legendary beast (wink, wink).

Robyn: Oh, I see what you’re thinking. But no, you’re not that legendary beast.

Jaunty P. Quills: If the book isn’t about moi, which I find very hard to believe—it’s okay to flatter me, Robyn—what is it about?

Robyn: I’m so glad you asked since that is why we’re doing this interview, to talk about my book. *clears throat* So Treasure Me is set in the Highlands of Scotland along the shores of Loch Ness and is the third in my Legend Hunters series. It’s about Graeme Langford, an English duke who feels more connected to his Scottish roots. He’s on a quest to find the legendary Stone of Destiny. Vanessa Pembrooke is a runaway bride fleeing England from her cheating fiancé and runs to Scotland to finally conduct some hands-on research as a paleontologist. When their paths cross we get lots of chemistry, a few actual explosions and a potentially deadly search for a lost treasure.

Jaunty P. Quills: So let me get this straight. The book isn’t about me?

Robyn: Jaunty! Have you even been to Scotland?

Jaunty P. Quills: I’m actually a little afraid of the Loch Ness monster. Once my Uncle Jolly visited the area near Loch Ness and was never seen again. I don’t mean to brag, but porcupines are rather tasty.

Robyn: I’m not exactly sure how to respond to that, Jaunty. If it makes you feel any better I’ve never had any porcupine, alligator, yes, but never once porcupine.

Jaunty P. Quills: Obviously this interview isn’t going as planned. And we all know who’s responsible for that…someone—ahem, Robyn Not-My-Favorite DeHart—didn’t send me an advance copy of the book.

Robyn: I was trying to save you from nightmares, Jaunty. After you read Seduce Me, you were so afraid of the Raven, you couldn’t sleep.

Jaunty P. Quills: I don’t know what you’re talking about. (whispering) He’s not in this one, is he?

Robyn: Well, yes, he is. He was such a great villain and already introduced into the Legend Hunter world so it seemed fitting to have him come after Graeme and Vanessa. And I should probably warn you, he’s deadlier than ever in this book.

Jaunty P. Quills: Robyn, you’re scaring me! Rather, you would be if I wasn’t so strong and heroic. I would make a great hero (right, Margo My-New-Favorite Maguire?).

Robyn: Okay, how about this, Jaunty. I’ll share a little sneak peek of the book to see if you like it. And for the rest of you, one lucky commenter today will win the entire Legend Hunters trilogy.

A hand clasped her wrist.
“Looking for something?”
In one quick movement she found herself flipped over the bed and upon her back, a large and heavy and very seductive husband atop her.
“I merely thought to—“
“To steal my treasure,” he said, his voice dark and full of sinful promise.
She shivered in response.
Desire coursed through her, making her focus on his every breath. Graeme’s arm tightened around her, pulling her into his body so that her bottom nestled snugly against his legs.
Hot breath slid across her neck and down her shoulder as he leaned closer. His well-muscled chest pressed to her back. Even without the benefit of seeing it in the movement, she knew what that chest looked like. Knew every sinewy line that traced the hard muscles of his abdomen.
He kissed her neck. One hot, moist kill that proved to be her complete undoing. She knew in that moment that she would not leave this bed tonight.

Robyn: Thank you, Jaunty, for an interesting interview. I can’t celebrate a release without giving away a book, so one lucky person will win autographed copies of the entire Legend Hunters series, that’s SEDUCE ME, DESIRE ME and TREASURE ME. Comment to win!

So, I have news. Kinda big news. Recently I sold 3 Steampunk romances to NAL under the name of Kate Cross. Some of you are already aware that I have a Young Adult Steampunk series launching from Harlequin Teen in May. The first book is The Girl in the Steel Corset and it’s being published under the name Kady Cross.

I also just sold an urban fantasy series, which I’m not going to say much about because nothing has been signed yet and I don’t want to jinx anything. However, I am so excited I could squeal like a little girl. It’s also going to be written under a new name. Right now I’m gearing toward Kate Locke.

Yes, it’s a lot to absorb and a lot of change. Some of you many wonder what’s going to happen to Kathryn Smith — and that’s the rub. I’ve been Kathryn Smith my whole life, and Kathryn Smith professionally for more than 10 years. However, When Tempting a Rogue will be the last Kathryn Smith book for awhile, possibly forever. It feels… weird.

So why the change, you may ask? Well, in publishing there are all manner of factors — how different the new product is from what fans expect from Kathryn Smith, wanting a fresh start… My reasons were many. Mostly, I decided I needed a change, and a restart to my career. That doesn’t mean that giving up Kathryn Smith was easy. It wasn’t. It isn’t. However, I also want to give these new books the best chance they have to succeed, and sometimes that means a clean slate. I don’t want Kathryn Smith’s history (the good and bad) to influence these new books. However, I also want to make it easy for fans to find me, so I’m going to do all I can to make sure my current readers know I’ve made the change. Hopefully they’ll follow me.

Then there’s the fact that a pen name affords a certain amount of privacy. I can go out and put on the persona of Kady Cross and then come home and be plain ole Kate, which I have to admit, sounds good. In fact, if I could go back, I would write under a different name than Kathryn Smith right from the beginning.  Do you know a reader once said she wouldn’t read me because my name didn’t sound ‘historical romance enough’? It’s true, I swear.

This new venture is scary. I haven’t written anything for any publisher other than Avon (except for one short story) since they bought me in 1999. Now, I’m writing for 3 different — and new to me — publishers. Scary, and exciting. I find myself nervous about new territory and new working relationships, but at the same time the enthusiasm for these new projects has been infectious. I am so excited to be working on these books and with the chance to really push myself and see just what I’m capable of creating.

That’s my news. What do you think? Does it bother you when authors switch gears and change their names? Or do you follow ‘em regardless because you like their work? Fellow authors, have you played the name game? And who are some of your favorite authors who write under different names?

Its Oscar season and I can’t wait to hear who the winners are on Sunday night. I’ll be tuned in hoping to see a few of my favorites walk away with the golden statuette. Watching the award shows always makes me want to dress up in something impossibly inappropriate for my suburban home and give a speech to thank the people in my life who’ve helped me out.

I’d thank my parents and sisters for the noisy household I grew up and especially my mom for sending me outside all the time when I was growing up and teaching me to use my imagination to entertain myself. I’d thank my husband for making the little moments in life count and showing me that loving someone goes way beyond romantic gestures. I’d thank my children who show me nuances in creativity that I didn’t realize I’d missed. And I’d thank my friends for all the laughter.

Your turn! Who would you thank?

I’m giving away an autographed copy of TAMING THE VIP PLAYBOY to three lucky blog participants today.

Most of my life has been sort of charmed. I don’t mean in the way that I’m beautiful or have everything that I desire; I mean that I’ve been happy. Really happy. The older I get the more I realize how

"Mom and Dad expecting me!"

lucky I am to have been born to my parents who are truly great people. They are incapable of saying no. I don’t mean in the spoiling your kids rotten way, I heard no often enough growing up and we didn’t have a lot of material things, but as I got older I needed someone when times got tough I knew I could always just call my mom or dad and say I need you and they’d be there.

A few years ago my really good friend Beverly Brandt had been nominated for a RITA for her book the TIARA CLUB and she couldn’t find the exact dress she wanted. My mom (and all the women in my family) sews. So I said to B that my mom could do it. I said to this to her as we were talking on the phone so she knew I had no time to call my mom and ask her, I just knew that mom would never say no to something like this. But what I realized after Beverly and I finished talking was that my mom wouldn’t say no to me.

I’ve tried to be that way with my kids. I don’t say yes to everything only the really important things. The things that can change their lives and make a difference, the things that will show and remind them that the world should be a nicer place.

My heroine in TAMING THE VIP PLAYBOY has this same kind of charmed upbringing (to be honest I based her loosely on my youngest sister). She was a very talented dancer from a young age and her parents and her older sister sacrificed to make sure that Jen was taken to dance rehearsals and eventually to competitions. They did this not because they had to but because they realized that Jen lived to dance and that she needed their support. She needed to safety net of her family to fall back on.

And in the book Jen is falling from some really tough breaks. For the first time in her life, she’s not feeling very charmed. This happened to me almost four years ago and I had no idea who to turn to, but instinctively went first to my parents and then my closest friends for support. In TAMING THE VIP PLAYBOY Jen’s parents are dead and she has only her older sister and young nephew to turn to, which she does. And they offer her a safety net that she uses to rebuild her life and to some extent herself.

I’m not sure what kind of family you have. My wise friend Beverly says we build the families we didn’t have from the friends we choose and I feel very lucky that I have both a great family to start with and one that I’ve built from friends.

I hope you all will check out TAMING THE VIP PLAYBOY its in stores today. And for one lucky blog participant I will send an autographed copy of the book.

Tell me in what ways are you charmed? Is it by your family or maybe you have an incredible talent? What is it that makes you special?

**I’m posting this for Emily because she has a sick computer, so for today the roll of Emily McKay will be played by Robyn DeHart**

Today, I feel like I’m living in a Mary Balogh novel.

No, a handsome but aloof Duke has not come to sweep me off my feet, but rather that this morning I woke up in a winter wonderland. Right after breakfast, the entire family poured out into the yard to play in the snow. We threw snow balls and went sliding down the hills at the end of the road. We made snow angels and licked snow off our gloves. (Okay, my kids did that. I was too aware of the deer footprints in the yard to actually eat the snow.)

Since I live in central Texas, most of experience with snow has been vicarious, lived through the heroines of al the Mary Balogh Christmas novels I’ve read. Inevitably, in those novellas, there’s an unexpected Christmas snow. Tromping out into the snow, the emotional barriers between the hero and heroine melt away. Their frosty tension between falls away and the couple begins to fall in love.

Playing in the snow with my kids and husband, I knew why she’s written so many scenes like that. There is something wondrous and special about the snow. It makes you feel like a child again. It’s so beautiful, it’s hard to believe it’s real. And even harder to believe that it’s supposed to be seventy in two days. But when that gorgeous, spring like weather hits, my Mary Balogh winter wonderland will fade away. I’ll have to pretend I’m in another novel. Maybe Susan Elizabeth Phillips. I heard her speak recently at a booksigning. When asked why she sets so many books in Texas she said, “Readers will believe anything if it happens in Texas.”

Even three inches of snow?

One of the questions writers are asked the most is where we get our ideas. Now I suppose there are as many answers to that question as there are writers. Even for me, I can’t say that there’s one certain place or exercise or thing that always generates an idea. And for every book we write and publisher there are probably three other ideas that sit unwritten/half-written or just unsold on our computers.

Ideas come from everywhere, every direction. When I’m in a particularly creative place then ideas come hard and fast, one after another and I have to jot down tidbits just to remember them. Sometimes those little tidbits grow into a fully fleshed idea that then becomes a book. But sometimes those little morsels just languish on the computer never to be expanded into anything useable.

Lately, I’ve been working on some ideas. Several of them. I currently have a proposal with my agent for a new trilogy. But as she’s reading that, I’m developing yet another series idea. I’m toying with switching time periods and I’m working on putting together a workable series idea for this new era. In doing so I’ve come up with one idea that’s now on it’s 4th incarnation. I’m not quite sure, but I think I’ve struck gold with the latest version. I’m excited. I can’t stop thinking about it. The idea is growing, characters are talking, scenes are taking shape in my mind – this is usually how I can tell that I’ve got something good.

Still I don’t know. Maybe these ideas will grow into books and they’ll be the next Robyn DeHart books you read. Or maybe they’ll simply sit, undeveloped in my mind and on my laptop indefinitely.

For you writers out there, how do you know when an idea is worth developing into a book? And for you readers, what’s your favorite Robyn DeHart book? If you’re not one of my readers, what’s your favorite Quill book? One commenter will win a signed copy of Treasure Me.