Monday, June 30, 2014

The Fire I Can't Put Out

A couple of weeks ago, my awesome friend and critique partner, D'Ann Lindun, sent me a PM on Facebook. Did I want to go in with her and some other authors on a box set?

Did I?


You may recall that I started work on a contemporary western romance at the beginning of year. It's gone a whole lot of n-o-w-h-e-r-e. Which is odd (sort of) because I've really enjoyed working on it. On the other hand, I've completed zero other projects this year, so it's not like one book going nowhere is a total shocker. I've been avoiding talking about my writing because it seems like talking about it just makes everything slllloooowwww down.

So I came up with a totally new idea for this 20k masterpiece for a multi-author anthology of contemporary western wonder and I'm over halfway done with it now. And now I'm talking about it.


Writing a book is kind of like this gif. It starts with a flame and gradually, all the wax melts away until you've got this (warning: it may be rather bad) novel in hand. Like that little flame, the story melts down, revealing the plot details, the characters' lives, and finally reaches an ending. It might be an emergency candle that burns for hours, or it might go up like a diesel/motor oil combination. Either way, it's a fire and no one but you can wield an extinguisher.

It never ceases to amaze me how a blank document goes to one filled with words, with realistic characters, feels, and happily-ever-afters. Never let anyone tell you people don't have magic. Book writing is magic, 100%. All my previous attempts to write a novel in a month have flopped. Maybe writing a novella can pull me out of the slump. I've got my candle lit.

My current heroine has vomited on the shoes of the man interviewing her. My hero loves his dogs. There are bulls, a marriage proposal gone awry, a fist fight, some hanky panky, and soon, THE END. Much as I'm enjoying writing this, I'll be glad to get another one finished (even if it is an novella). We're talking about a release date for September 1. I'll keep you posted.

And well, this:

I should really think about
investing in some lipstick.

Because I was either enjoying the hell out of that chetzel dog (nacho cheese pretzel hot dog), there was something really great going on behind the photographer, or I was receiving divine inspiration from above. (It was the chetzel dog. Let's be serious.)

Friday, June 27, 2014

Friday Feature - Taking Pleasure Where You Can by Sheri Velarde

Hey, y'all. Today's Friday Feature is from fellow Breathless Press author Sheri Velarde. You ready?

First I want to say a huge thank you to Allison for letting me stop by today to "flirt" a little and chat about the writing of my new short, Taking Pleasure Where You Can. This is a very personal piece for me, as it is my first foray into the historical romance genre and it is set in WWII, so a lot of the influence came from stories my grandfather told me about his time during the war. So thanks again Allison for having me!

Today I am going to talk a little about the writing process, especially when it comes to tough scenes. Writing is a very personal experience and it can take a lot out of you to write about certain events and moods. Now for me the naughty scenes are always a little hard for me to write, but that was not the case in Taking Pleasure Where You Can. For this story the toughest thing to write was the emotional shut down of my protagonist, John. He suffered horrors that I cannot even imagine at Pearl Harbor and trying to convey just how hard that was on a human being was extremely difficult.

Now I did have some firsthand accounts, so to speak, of the horrors of Pearl Harbor. My grandfather arrived there the day after the attack and helped with the cleanup. That was very traumatic on my grandfather and he never spoke much about it, not even to his war buddies. I tried to channel some of my grandfather's deep and profound sorrow into John. Put myself in that mindset was very hard and draining on me, but I felt that it was something that had to be done. I sort of hate how the war and Pearl Harbor made me character a shell of a man, but what I hate even more that John is a representative for so many real life men who suffered the same fate during that time.  This story is my little homage to those men and women, like my grandparents, who made it through such a terrible time in history.

Joe seemed to know everyone, and everyone seemed keen to be near him. It made it much easier for the quiet by nature and still healing John to slowly make some friends. Once the drinks started flowing, he even began to loosen up a bit. He missed hanging out with guys, telling stories, joking around, and laughing. His Captain had been right; this was what he needed and what his friends who had passed on would want. He was beginning to feel alive again, and it felt good. Then he caught sight of her.

John never thought that he would be the same after Pearl Harbor, then he set eyes on Imee and everything changed.

Ever since Pearl Harbor John had become a shell of a man, not able to move on from the trauma. One night out with the guys and one woman were about to change everything.

Get it at:
Breathless Press

About the Author:
Kelly Ryan, aka Sheri Velarde, lives in New Mexico and grew up with a fascination for all things that "go bump in the night", so it is no wonder that she turned to writing paranormal romance among other genres of romance. She is an avid exerciser and gets some of her best ideas while on runs. She also has a bit of a wild side, which only leads to inspiration for her writing.

Being an avid reader since an early age, she has wanted to be a writer for as long as she can remember. She has been writing all her life, but only recently started to actually try to pursue her dream of writing for a living. She is constantly putting out new material, so it is best to keep up with her on her website.

Kelly/Sheri is a multi-published author; you can keep up to date with all things Kelly Ryan/Sheri Velarde at:

Wednesday, June 25, 2014

Heavy on the Nature

I'm still alive, in case you worried. I vanished because I was on vacation. That 8-letter word I haven't got to use in 7 years. Seriously.

We ventured up to Pomme De Terre State Park in Pittsburg, Mo for a five days, where we stayed in a yurt. An actual yurt, y'all. It was fantastic. I think they said it was about 16' in diameter, but it was big enough to sleep four people and a small, spoiled rotten dog. The first night, I conked out big-time, but the next couple of nights, I noticed the futon bed was kind of hard in places.

We swam, we walked, we ate delicious breakfasts and dinners. We had ice cream almost every day. It was heaven. Minus the sunburn, the giant spider in the skylight (see photo), and the scorpion that tried to murder PeeWee.

Yeah, the first night we were there, the husband and I were outside in the dark and I was surprised by a huge bug on the concrete in front of the yurt. I put the lantern down on the ground and dear sweet shiny Heaven above, scorpion! I had to step on it twice before it would die.

The night before we went home, we were sitting outside, admiring the stars when PeeWee suddenly jumps and runs into my chair. I picked him and when Mom looked, there was another scorpion--probably taking revenge for his brethren--near where PeeWee had been. We don't think it stung him, but it must have pinched him. He wiped at his nose and licked it a lot. He actually crawled onto my husband's lap to be held. He loves my husband, but he would rather sit with me any given day. We gave him Benadryl and he was fine the next morning.

Also, the first night, a red fox ran right into a "front yard". It just stood there, staring at us like we were morons. PeeWee was tied up and didn't even notice it--poster boy for not being a guard dog.

But that night, we were all laying in bed (not together. I mean, my husband and me were in bed together, but...jeez, this is complicated. There were three beds, okay?) and Mom shined her flashlight up to the skylight. "Oh my God, look at that spider."

I'm totally useless without my contacts, I will undoubtedly be one of the first to die when the zombie apocalypse hits because I can't see without eye aids, but when I looked up (a good fifteen feet above my head) there was this thing in the skylight. A freakin' spider about the size of a half-dollar.

All I could think was, don't sleep with your mouth open. If that thing crawled inside my mouth, it would have choked me to death. Toomuchnature. Toomuchnature. I named it Aragog, although I briefly considered Shelob. The next morning it had vanished... My husband killed it a day or two later.

Also, a fish bit my tattoo. I am not food, fish, just as you are not food to me.

Overall, it was wonderful. When we got back, my husband said, "You needed that. I haven't seen you look so happy or laugh like that in a long time."

I admit, it was nice to get away from the book stuff, the hustle and bustle of social media, and the real world problems. We're definitely going to have to go again, but we're bringing every kind of bug spray known to man next time.

Friday, June 13, 2014

Friday Feature - Promise Me Eden by D'Ann Lindun

For the Friday Feature, I have D'Ann Lindun, who's a very good friend and critique partner. I loved this book, it has so many emotional ups and downs. I hope you all enjoy this scene she's letting us look at today!

Her black jeans fell open. He kicked off his boots.
He splayed his hand across her flat belly, and it gave him momentary pause. But his pulsing erection pushed him forward, and his slid his palm down her stomach, under her panties and into the silky curls between her legs. Dipping his middle finger into her wet center, he pressed deep. Until she moaned into his mouth and her hips rocked in a steady rhythm with the tune he set.
He took his mouth from hers and dipped it to a nipple. He sucked deep, and her vagina clenched in orgasm. Her scream pierced his eardrums before she sagged against him, her nipples pressing like twin shards against his chest. “My God.”
He smoothed her hair away from her face. “Good?”
She ducked her head into his chest. “Yeah.”
A low chuckle rumbled out of him.
Slipping to the floor, still caught between his legs, she reached for his fly. Shimmying, he helped her tug off his jeans. He kicked them aside, uncaring where they landed.
 “Do you have a rubber?”
 “Yeah. I’ll go get ’em,” he said in a guttural voice.
She didn’t have to ask twice. Adam hustled into the kitchen where he’d dropped the grocery bag with the coffee and condoms. Grabbing the box, he ripped it open, grabbed two foil packets and carried them back into the living room. He stopped at the stereo system and turned on the CD player. Soft country music filled the air.
Maura lay splayed across the couch, her legs open. “Come here.”
He obeyed, opening one of the foil wrapped condoms as he crossed the room. Already sheathed, he moved between her parted thighs. He braced on his elbows, keeping his weight off her, and kissed her again. The tip of his erection moved against her slick opening.
 “Love me,” she pleaded.
He closed his eyes and moved his mouth to her ear. “I’ve waited so long.”
 “No more waiting.” She urged him to mount her with her hands on his hips. “Now, Adam, now.”
 “I want you, baby.” He pressed forward, heaven waited. “Sweet Eden.”
 She shoved his chest. “Eden? What the hell?”
His eyes flew open and reality crashed over him. This wasn’t Eden. It was Maura. “Maura. I meant Maura.”
Moments before her eyes had been filled with desire. Now they were filled with anger and hurt. “The hell you say.”
She shoved him again, and he stood, erection fading fast. “I know who you are.”
She climbed to her feet and crossed her arms over her chest. With her dark, curly hair tumbling around her pale shoulders and her eyes flashing, she looked like a goddess. But he didn’t want her. He desired his wife. “Do you, Adam? Because as long as I can remember, it’s been Eden you want. Not me.”
 He stood silent because he couldn’t deny it. Maura was a beautiful girl, but she wasn’t the one he wanted. “I’ll drive you home.”

This scene From Promise Me Eden was one of the most difficult of the book. Although there are several that were hard to get down, this one was one of the toughest because I was trying to show Adam in several lights.

One: he’s still a man, and a young man to boot. His wife hasn’t slept with him for months because she’s in the throes of deep depression. He misses physical contact.

Two: he still loves his wife. When he calls her name instead of Maura’s, I want the reader to see who he loves. Even though Eden has left him, he wants only her.

Three: he respects women. Even though he’s being a bit of a pig here, he truly loves his wife. He also likes Maura. They remain friendly in the book.

Did I succeed? Get across Adam as I see him?

Get it at:

Visit D'Ann online
Facebook || Blog

Wednesday, June 11, 2014

Guest Post & Giveaway - My Ex-Boyfriend's Wedding by T. Sue VerSteeg

My friend T. Sue VerSteeg is on the blog today with her novel My Ex-Boyfriend's Wedding. She's dishing about about the book and she has a giveaway. Let's get to it!

Let’s Talk About Ex, Baby!

Well, EXES, technically. But, then you wouldn’t have the song stuck in your head. What fun would that be?
A huge thanks to Allison for allowing me to hijack her blog today and share my newest release, MY EX-BOYFRIEND’S WEDDING! And hear all about your exes, too.

Agreeing to photograph your two-timing ex’s wedding… What could possibly go wrong?

Most women have them: those two very distinct, very different voices in their mind. One can usually be chalked up to common sense, the other to mischief, mayhem or just plain morbid curiosity. Both are always there, though, ready with their two cents worth.

Jemma Keith is no exception to the rule. She doesn’t have a problem agreeing to photograph her cheating ex-boyfriend’s wedding. The dilemma, however, is what to do once she gets there. Common sense feels like taking the high road; she can handle being the better person. Mischief wants to slither in, crashing the whole affair down around his worthless ankles.

What’s a woman to do when she can’t make up her mind?

At least both sides are in complete harmony about the bride’s cousin, Anthony Giovanni: he’s hot, handsome, and oh, so tempting.

Join Jemma as she weaves through a web of lust, temptation, revenge, and maybe even love.

Keeping with the theme of MY EX-BOYFRIEND’S WEDDING, I want to hear stories about revenge on exes. Let’s keep it PG13, so no Lorena Bobbitt type of stuff. If you don’t have a great revenge story, make one up. What would you do to your no-good ex if you had the chance? I’ll give away a print copy or e-book to the most creative scenario, their choice of any of my current titles and format. Let’s have some fun!

Buy the Book:
Kindle || iBooks || Nook || Kobo || Paperback

Visit T. Sue VerSteeg online (and see her backlist):

Tuesday, June 10, 2014

The Wrong Brother's Bride Review Tour Wrap-Up

I needed a review tour. I needed folks willing to read my book and say nice things about it. So just to beep my own horn, I'm posting links to those really lovely reviews from my tour with The Wrong Brother's Bride. I have to give huge thanks to everyone who help promote it and the people who reviewed it. The book-o-sphere is a fantastically magical place on the internet.

My first review spot was on Imagine a World where I scored four roses and got nice compliments like, "The plot was well paced and I was kept interested the entire way through. I really enjoyed the sweet story and the ending was lovely."

The next review stop was Battery Operated Book Blog, where we hit five nubs on the battery--or I guess you could say it was fully charged. She had nice things to say like, " You will find yourself talking out loud saying things like "nooooo" and "awww ... he loves her!!!" It was a great review.

Up after that was a review at Crystal's Many Reviews. Tbird had this to say about it, "I will start off by saying historical romance is not my personal favorite genre but this book made me rethink my feelings.  The Wrong Brother’s Bride was written in a way that made me forget the time era it was set in and captured my attention with characters that were not only interesting but connectable to the reader and two people I could invest my heart in." We got four little reading guys for that!

Then we had a review at Crazy Four Books where Brenda said, "If every historical romance was written like this I'd probably read more of them." There weren't any little icons or anything, but the words were more than enough to let me know she enjoyed it!

At Rythempoets, we hit on a 4 out of 5 from author Holly Hunt. Woohoo!

At Ramblings of a Book Lunatic, the reviewer isn't keen on historicals, but she had only nice things to say, "The story line was very believable, and the characters very well written and likeable." We got 4 stars!

And we got 4 and a half motorcycles from Harlie's Books and a great quote. "I highly recommend picking up The Wrong Brother’s Bride.  Ms. Merritt wrote a beautiful second chance/marriage of convenience story that will have you flipping the pages to find the HEA."

Kel from Literary Nook put this review tour together for me. She did a fantastic job with the banner and arranging everything. I give her five stars as a blog tour owner. If you're looking for someone to arrange a tour for you, definitely check her out! The prices are right and she's great about checking in with bloggers and rescheduling if it's needed.

Monday, June 9, 2014

Release Day Blast - Secret Love by Christine Warner

About the Book:
Genre: Sweet Nostalgic Novella
Length: 69 Pages
The Sweet Fifties Series {Book 1}

Release Date: June 9, 2014

Lizzie Tarleton has always done things her own way—including the time at the tender age of thirteen when she confessed to her brother’s best friend she loved him. But now she’s a new teacher at the local high school, and independent enough to know that you can’t force love. She’ll find love when the time is right—even though her parents are adamant the time is now. The only downfall to her idyllic life is the fact that her childhood crush—who broke her heart—is now her boss. If only she could stop daydreaming about him.

Wayne Whitmore grew up on the wrong side of the tracks and worked hard to get where he’s at in life. Even though he enjoys being principal at the small town high school, he dreams of coaching baseball. When his best friend asks him to watch over his little sister at her new job at Wayne’s school, he agrees. What he doesn’t count on is how she’s grown from the pig tailed kid who told him she loved him, to the woman who breaks his concentration with her beauty and smile. Unable to get over his fascination, and afraid he’ll ruin his friend’s trust, Wayne applies for his dream job—one that will take him far away.

One night while decorating the school gymnasium for an upcoming sock hop, Lizzie and Wayne find themselves alone. They share a kiss and Lizzie realizes her childhood crush for Wayne has never died. Wayne decides he doesn’t want to let Lizzie get away.

Can they come to terms with their secret love and then overcome the other secrets they are hiding in order to get what they each want? Or is their timing for love still off?

She blinked away the heat of tears forming at the back of her eyes. Their conversation had grown too serious. She needed to lighten things up a bit. “Remember when we used to play ‘What if?’”

He laughed. “What if Lizzie wore a dress?”

“Either she was going to church, or her mom was having a ladies’ social.” Lizzie giggled. “Ricky hated that game.”

“He’d get so mad when you’d start it.” He made the final cut on a small snowflake and added it to the pile before him.

“What if Wayne couldn’t throw his famous curve ball?”

“The school trophy case would be one trophy short. What if Lizzie wasn’t teaching here?”

She pouted. “She’d be sad. I have no idea what I’d be doing if I hadn’t found a job here. What does Lizzie have to do to show Wayne she thanks him?” She winked, enjoying their fun.

He cleared his throat. “What if Wayne said Lizzie owed him a kiss?”

Her belly trembled. What if?

“What if he stole one?” His voice lowered and he leaned in.

“Why don’t you find out?” she whispered.

Get it at:
Amazon || Barnes & Noble

About the Author:
Christine Warner is living her dream in Michigan along with her husband, three children, one laptop and a much loved assortment of furry friends.

Besides laughing and a good round of humor, she enjoys spending time with her family, cooking, reading, writing but no arithmetic.  A confessed people watcher, she finds inspiration for her stories in everyday activities.  She loves to read and write about strong heroes and determined, sometimes sassy, heroines.

A girl gone wild, at least where social media is concerned, she enjoys meeting other avid readers and writers on facebook, twitter and her website at

Find her online:
Website || Facebook || Twitter || Goodreads

Visit her at the other blogs!

Friday, June 6, 2014

Friday Feature - The Convict and the Cattleman

We're trying something new for the next few weeks here at Have Novel, Will Edit. It's called Friday Features and it's an author's favorite (or not) scene from his or her book with an explanation about why it is or isn't and how hard or easy it was to write. To kick it off, I'm sharing a scene from The Convict and the Cattleman.

This is a scene I think about a lot, because it is absolutely one of my favorites (some day I'll give you one I hate, I promise). As you likely know, in this book, Bridget is a convict sentenced to seven years of servitude in New South Wales. She's sent to work for Jonah Andrus and they slowly but surely begin to fall in love with one another. In this scene, they've finished a nap after some, ah, other activities and, well, this is what unfolds.

The Scene:
Jonah woke to a soft itch on his palm. Bridgit traced the lines there, her touch light, but enough to stir him. During his nap, the sun had shifted to the other side of the tree.
“It’s going on evening. We’d best get home,” she said.
He drew her closer. “I’m comfortable here.”
The hair fell away from her neck, leaving a patch of skin he was certain hadn’t received any attention before their lovemaking. She giggled when his lips touched the spot.
“Come on. Olivia’s waking up.”
Bridgit rolled away and reached for her clothes. The shift slipped over her head, swallowing the curves. The brown serge followed and she straightened the skirt. The hem was ragged on the back, leaving a trail of strings.
“I hate that dress. It’s bloody ugly. Every time I see it, I long to rip it off you and toss it on a fire. I’m not even wearing it and I feel hot and itchy.”
She smiled, but he saw the sadness it masked.
“Your choice of garments, or lack thereof, aren’t appropriate for day-to-day wear, sir.”
He frowned. “There are unused dresses at the house. I insist you wear them. Otherwise moths will ruin them.”
She avoided his gaze. “I already owe you a great deal.”
“As your employer, it’s my duty to see you properly clothed and fed.”
“I am.” Her chin rose and her eyes widened.
“By impoverish standards, yes, but not the manner befitting an employee under my care.” He stood and dressed. Her stubbornness was no good against his own.
“What I know of nursemaids’ uniforms entails dark, somber colors of practical cloth. I’m afraid I own no dark colors, though serge is quite pragmatic. Your sister’s clothing isn’t the kind servants wear under any circumstances.”
“What you wear has no imagination, no life, and reveals far too much of your wrists and ankles.” He took her hand and lifted it. The scars caught the light, shining dully.
A pink flush spread over Bridgit’s skin. She jerked her hand out of his, curling her fingers.
“I’m beholden to you for giving me a job I like, a roof over my head and regular meals. I don’t want to owe you anything else.”
“It would be different if it meant taking food out of my mouth or Olivia’s. If the clothes weren’t already available. That isn’t the case. I know you long for the things you lost and you’re afraid of losing everything again, but no one will begrudge you a few dresses. It’s not charity. It’s about being a good Samaritan. Let me be good. I’m awful at it, but I have to try.”
An internal battle waged on her face. At last she nodded. “If you insist.”
“I do.”
“I don’t deserve your kindness,” she whispered, turning her face away.
“It’s true. If I can see the scars, I’m reminded of what brought me here. If they’re hidden, I might forget, and even today it slipped my mind.”
Jonah clenched his jaw. Like the mark of Cain, she wore her sad dresses and kept her scars bared for the world to see. Those pinkish marks reminded her every day that she deserved punishment for trying to feed her family. Give her a switch and she’d lash herself for crimes against the crown.
Beneath that was the woman she’d been an hour ago. Vibrant and teasing, full of laughter. He hated the woman she’d stolen from, the peace officer who had arrested her, the judge who sentenced her, the wardens who’d chained her and everyone else along the way that had broken her soul.

Why it's my favorite:
I think this one part reveals everything you need to know about Bridgit and Jonah's relationship. She feels that she can't love him because of her low status and he feels that it's unimportant. Despite her past mistakes--and his reluctance to take her in because of them--he's changing his opinion of her as he realizes they have the same values. At this point, Bridgit has already turned his stony heart into a gooey marshmallow. At least that's what I want you to think. Teehee.

The part about showing her scars is important to the story because even when it looks like she's going to become something more than a criminal, that reminder is always there, covered or not. It gives the reader a look into her vulnerability, at the attitudes she's already endured, and it all makes Jonah more protective of her.

The main reason I love this scene is because it's a turning point in their relationship. He's falling in love with her, and believe me, in the first and second drafts of this book, he was a hard-hearted SOB that I tried to replace a couple of time because he simply wouldn't give in. This scene fixed a lot of his problems.

Was it hard to write?
This scene wasn't bad. Once I got the flow of characters and figured out what I wanted to happen in the scene before this one, this one poured across the pages like melted butter in a Southern cook's skillet. Sorry for the bad metaphor. I think the worst part about writing this dialogue as an author was feeling Bridgit's pain and shame. It really helped that Jonah didn't try to make it worse or write it off. He responded, in his mind, with love and sympathy, and in the following scenes proves his feelings with actions, even if he doesn't say it in words.

You can get it at:

I hope y'all enjoyed the Friday Feature. I have some more wonderful authors lined up and we'll get into their heads as we examine scenes from their novels. Until then, Happy Friday!

Wednesday, June 4, 2014

Cover Reveal - Share the Moon by Sharon Struth

And now...a cover reveal. Isn't that lovely? Coming this fall from Lyrical Press...

Sometimes trust is the toughest lesson to learn.

Sophie Shaw is days away from signing a contract that will fulfill her dream of owning a vineyard. For her, it’s a chance to restart her life and put past tragedies to rest. But Duncan Jamieson’s counter offer blows hers out to sea.

Duncan still finds Sophie as appealing as he had during boyhood vacations to the lake. Older and wiser now, he has his own reasons for wanting the land. His offer, however, hinges on a zoning change approval.

Bribery rumors threaten the deal and make Sophie wary of Duncan, yet she cannot deny his appeal. When her journalistic research uncovers a Jamieson family secret, trust becomes the hardest lesson for them both.

Visit Sharon online:
Web || Facebook || Twitter

Monday, June 2, 2014

Getting Back On The Horse

A metaphorical horse, not a real horse. I haven't been on a real horse in years. That's beside the point.

In the last couple of months, I haven't do a lot of writing. I haven't done a lot of blogging either, which you'll have noticed. It's hard to keep up with a blog that more-or-less is supposed to chronicle my writing when I'm not really doing any.

I set out to do Camp NaNoWriMo in April, but I couldn't get interested. I was sort of almost working on a contemporary, but I saw no reason to make myself keep going. I wrote and rewrote some historical, which still isn't progressing so great. Nothing I've written this year is over 20k and that's pathetic for me.

Today is the second of June, and now I'm attempting JuNowWriMo. I'm kicking it off with the last book in the Heckmasters series, Tell and Sylvie's story. I've had trouble with this, maybe because in the first two books, Sylvie's pretty young, just 12 when they first arrive in Berner, and then turning 13 in the second book. Now she's 20, which means a pretty significant jump in time. She's going to have to go from being a somewhat annoying, headstrong child to a likable heroine. Even worse, Tell's as much a kid as she is with his carefree attitude, so he has some growing up to do too. God willing, I will see June through with an almost complete Heckmaster novel. Pray for me.

Today is release day for not one, but two of my good friends, so I have to say nice things about them and tell you what lovely, fantastic people they are. In fact, T. Sue VerSteeg will be here in a couple of days with a guest blog.

Her book is called My Ex-Boyfriend's Wedding. You can read all about it on her blog and don't forget to come back when she makes an appearance here, okay?

And Lisa Medley's book, Reap and Redeem is out as a stand-alone today. You might remember from before, it was in a box set. Well now you can read it all by itself. Read about it on her blog.

Congratulations, ladies and all the success in the world to you!

Now, I've gotta go make some word count.