MORGAN K. WYATT SHARES UNDERCOVER REBEL

Please welcome Morgan K. Wyatt to A Writer's Life today.

Morgan K. Wyatt

Morgan as a child had to suffer through movies with clueless heroines rescued by smart men. Her mother dutifully read her stories where princesses waited for princes to jumpstart their lives. There were no proactive female role models in the media at that time, with the exception of Wonder Woman. It is for this reason, and that it is fun, Morgan writes about strong women going after what they want.

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Learn more about Morgan at: http://www.morgankwyatt.com
​Twitter: morgankawyatt@morgankwyatt 
Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/pages/Morgan-K-Wyatt/160636730670958?ref=hl

TOP TEN LISTS

Morgan has shared two of her Top Tens Lists with us. Morgan, let's begin with your Top Ten Favorite Authors:


Arthur Conan Doyle
Edgar Allan Poe
Jayne Ann Krentz
Amanda Quick
Ray Bradbury
Nora Roberts
Mark Twain
Jane Austen
Rosamunde Pilcher
Harper Lee


Excellent choices, and most are my favorites, too. What are your Top Ten Favorite Books?

A TREE GROWS IN BROOKLYN
THE BIOLOGY OF BELIEF
THE BLACK STALLION
BLACK BEAUTY
GONE WITH THE WIND
TO KILL A MOCKINGBIRD
THE HOBBIT
ALL QUIET ON THE WESTERN FRONT
CHARLOTTE'S WEB
MARTIAN CHRONICLES

Introducing Morgan K. Wyatt’s UNDERCOVER REBEL, Rebel Hearts, Book One, and . . .

Tour Giveaway! 

One book and one $5 Amazon Gift Card to one lucky commenter at each tour stop. Be sure to leave your email address to be included in the giveaway.

UNDERCOVER REBEL Synopsis

Emily Sewell couldn't remember when she fell in love with her neighbor, Gray Masterson. He unfortunately didn't really notice her as a woman until the eve of his leaving to fight in the Civil War. A magical evening ensued with him asking her to wait for him. News that he's been killed on the battlefield propels her into action. She knows he is alive - she just has to find him. The only thing between her and her true love is miles of swampland, a major war, and her own doubts. Emily wrestles with Gray's possible death, imprisonment, or that he's unwilling to return to her.

Can a sheltered Southern Belle navigate the horrors of war to retrieve her fiancé? Emily is willing to try.

UNDERCOVER REBEL Excerpt

“All the Sewells are good looking. It’s commonplace to hear your family mentioned as one of the most comely of the county.”

Emily’s heart took a nosedive like a crow spying a piece of corn. Sure, she heard they were a comely family, but never thought much of it. Comely could mean there were no hunchbacks or cross-eyed cousins. She’d thought perhaps he only commented on her, especially wearing the green satin. No, such praise was too much to hope for.

“Hey there, sugah, what’s with the long face?” Gray raised his hand to place two fingers under her chin, tilting it upwards toward his gaze.

His unexpected action caused her fingers to loosen on her fan and it slipped from her hand. He called her sugar. Mother would hate it and call it common, inappropriate at any time. If only she could grab the word, the look in his eyes, and the feeling inside her, and wrap it, all in cotton batting to store away like a precious keepsake. If only this moment, wait, his lips moved, could it get any better?

You’ve always been a delightful sprite following your brother and me around. Townsend called you a nuisance, but I never minded. Your high spirits, your curiosity, your courage always impressed me.” Gray ended with a wink.

“It did?” Emily squeaked. She didn’t sound like the belle of the ball. More like her nine-year-old cousin than a femme fatale.

Maybe Eileen could get her money back on the potion. Still, Gray called her beautiful, winked at her, and touched her. So far, he brought to life almost every one of her romantic daydreams, except one. His face grew larger. Oh my, he was going to kiss her. Her heart beat double time, making it hard to breathe. Inadvertently, she squeezed her eyes shut, but opened them again, not wanting to miss a second.

Voices getting closer broke through Emily’s rapt contemplation of Gray’s lips. Whirling, tugging on his arm, she urged him down the gravel path. “Let’s check out the gazebo down by the river,” she commented, hoping Gray could read her unspoken message. The gazebo stood isolated at the edge of the property.

As they walked, greeting people casually, Emily worried Gray wouldn’t kiss her at all. Her skirt bumped against an azalea bush, scattering the deep pink blossoms and releasing their fragrance into the air. Maybe he wasn’t going to kiss her. Maybe she imagined it all. What would she say to Gray? How could she extract herself from this embarrassing situation?

A woman they passed teased Gray about how handsome he looked in his uniform. Shaking off her internal monologue, Emily spotted the offender, Elizabeth Anne, and bestowed upon her one of Eileen’s specialties - the gimlet glare with the smug smile.

Elizabeth stumbled back a step, obviously interpreting the message correctly. The potion just kicked in, people thinned out, and they managed a few more steps without any interruptions. The gazebo with its fresh coat of white paint gleamed like a beacon. Gray walked by her side in a companionable silence. What was he thinking? Looking up at him, furrowing her brow, Gray laughed and dropped a kiss on her brow.

Without thinking, she said, “You kissed me.”

“No, not a kiss. I was just trying to smooth out those worry lines in your forehead. Would you like for me to kiss you?” Waiting for her response, his eyes twinkled.

“Oh yes,” Emily sighed the words, giving voice to her most ardent wish. Gray swept her into his arms, causing her to stumble backwards. He only held her tighter. His lips swooped down on hers. My goodness his lips were soft, yet firm. He smelled so good. The sandalwood aroma wrapped around her along with his arms. The length of his muscular body pressed up against hers, causing her hoop skirt to bell out behind her.

The kiss ended too soon. Staring into Gray’s darkened eyes; the thought of another kiss drew her up on her toes closer to his lips when voices rounding the path corner caused them both to move apart.

Emily murmured under her breath. “Damn people.”

It must have been loud enough for Gray to hear because he laughed and attempted to cover it with a cough. Angling his head in her direction, away from the approaching people, he winked, mouthing words she couldn’t quite make out. He turned to greet the group of people.

Joseph Calhoun stepped forward in his Confederacy uniform and began pontificating about the strength of the Southern States. Emily caught the eye of Virginia Hammer, who looked supremely bored with her beau’s choice of topic. She’d probably heard Joseph’s impassioned speech more than a few times already.

Buy Link:
http://www.amazon.com/Undercover-Rebel-ebook/dp/B009AYSA22/ref=sr_1_fkmr1_1?s=digital-text&ie=UTF8&qid=1354670753&sr=1-1-fkmr1&keywords=Morgan+K+Wyatt+Undercover+Rebel

The Remaining Tour

Dec 7 - A Bookish Libraria-The Bookish Dame Reviews/guest post
Dec 11 - Chanting of Muses/Top Ten's List
Dec 14 - Black Lion Tour Blog/wrap-up

Also Available from Morgan on Amazon:

REBEL BRIDE, Rebel Hearts book two

Eileen Sewell sparks plenty of gossip by spiteful matrons and their horse-faced daughters that she’d find herself alone due to her picky ways. Of course, she didn’t believe them. Then again, she also didn’t expect to be a mail order bride either. It wasn’t easy snagging a husband who hadn’t heard about her willful nature. Eileen finally gave up hope of finding love, and decided to settle for whatever she’d find out west. If that wasn’t lowering enough, she’d just witnessed the first train robbery. Unfortunately, the outlaws saw her too. Enter Marshal Colt Sheppard, who excels at extracting information from reticent witnesses. His crooked smile and broad shoulders won’t charm her. She’d played this game before, only she never had a worthy adversary. Talk about bad timing.

To be included in the giveaway, remember to leave your email address with your comment.

To be included in the drawing for my KINDLE FIRE GIVEAWAY on December 14th, sign up for my newsletter by clicking the white square on the sidebar and filling in your name and email. Then click the link you'll receive by return email, and you're all set.

Thanks for stopping by!

IDEAS INTO BOOKS

People often ask authors where we get our ideas. My friend Bobbye Terry (who also writes as Daryn Cross) answers that she gets hers from a small idea factory in Ohio. Yes, she does have a fun sense of humor. I sometimes say a fairy sprinkles magic dust onto my keyboard. In reality, even the smallest event can present the kernel of an idea.

For instance, when I was a student at Lubbock High School, I took theater. My teacher, Mr. Black, was terrific as an instructor and as a person. He and his wife were on their way back to Lubbock from Dallas when they encountered a fierce rainstorm. In a basically flat terrain, heavy rains produce flash floods as the water heads for the usually shallow creek- and riverbeds.

Between the Texas towns of Snyder and Post (founded by cereal magnate C.W. Post), the railway is built on a raised earthwork dike that acts as a dam for floodwaters as roiling torrents rush for the local fork of the Brazos River and to Sandy Creek. Mr. Black was driving through this water and watched in horror as a watertight VW bug was swept away. Fortunately, the VW lodged on the railway bank. Mr. Black was in an old, old (teachers don’t make much money) Renault, and water came in one door and exited the other. Still a frightening experience for he and his wife, but they made it home safely.

Aurora

Years and years later, my husband and I were returning from visiting our parents in Lubbock and heading toward home in the Dallas-Fort Worth Metroplex. We passed by the spot mentioned above after a downpour. It reminded me of Mr. Black’s story, and started me thinking. What if a woman traveling through this area was caught in a downpour like that? What if she was able to leave her car, but the vehicle was swept away? What if she had to walk along the railroad looking for help?


That’s how Aurora O’Shaunessy leaped from my imagination into a book called BE MY GUEST. She’s on her way to Colorado with the intention of buying a gift shop from a family friend. Aurora has definite plans for her life. This stage doesn’t include romantic complications. First, she wants to get her business firmly under control, perhaps then she will be open to love. Hmmm, when did life ever follow our plans?



Rancher Will

 One Sunday the newspaper had a feature on an elderly rancher whose horse fell, trapping the rancher on a red ant bed. Ouch! The horse was all right, but the rancher--in addition to numerous ant stings--broke his leg. His fighting spirit allowed him complete recovery. But what if the rancher was young and handsome? What if he was a widower with a child? Enter Will Harrison, a rancher whose wife died of leukemia. At least he has his daughter Kelly, his ranch, and extended family. But when a beautiful woman is his guest and the floodwaters have them cut off from the rest of the world, he realizes his family is right. Although he'll always love his wife, it’s time to move on. Can he convince Aurora to give up Colorado and remain with him?


Available on Smashwords
and Amazon Kindle


In reality, the small idea factory is not in Ohio, but in the writer’s imagination. We can’t help ourselves--everything makes us think PLOT! Every news story, documentary, non-fiction book, and family story fuels our muses. BE MY GUEST was first published by Kensington. Now that the rights hav reverted to me, I’ve published it on Smashwords and Amazon Kindle for only 99 cents.

Here’s an excerpt from BE MY GUEST:

The clock on the dashboard displayed one o'clock when Aurora was free to concentrate on lunch in Snyder. Clouds gathered and rumbled with thunder over the West Texas town. Aurora's empty stomach rumbled with them. After a hazardous morning, fatigue overshadowed her usually cheerful nature. She passed by the fast food places before she spotted the family restaurant recommended to her by the Texas State Trooper a few minutes ago.

Cars and trucks filled the parking lot. What a lucky break, she thought, when she spotted illuminated taillights and a car backed out of the prime parking slot at the entrance. Aurora saw the lone man in the dusty red pickup truck facing her, waiting for the space. He sat in the very same type and color truck used by two ruffians who had terrorized her earlier in the morning. Although she knew this man could not be one of those two men, an unreasonable anger bubbled up in her directed toward all cowboys, especially those in red trucks.

Her normally pleasant nature turned aggressive and she zipped the Mustang into the vacated park before the less maneuverable truck could occupy the space. The man honked the truck horn at her as she got out of her car. She just smiled and blew him a saucy kiss as she hurried into the restaurant. After all, any real gentleman would have let a lady have the only space in the first place, she told her nagging conscience.


Her conscience would not be quieted so easily. She must be in shock from her morning encounter. Never had she acted so rudely. Regretting her impetuous actions already, she thanked goodness the exchange occurred with a stranger and not someone she might meet again.


Seated in the corner booth, Aurora ordered a hamburger, French fries, and a large Dr Pepper. While she waited for her food, she reviewed the items listed under the town of Snyder in her Texas guidebook. Suddenly, she sensed someone standing beside her booth. As she looked up--and up--a huge cowboy with most of his left leg in a cast leaned his crutches against the side of the booth. He slid onto the seat beside her, which pinned her in the booth with him.


Aurora scooted to the right as far as possible. "Hey, who do you think you are? This is my booth, and no one invited you to share it with me!"


"Your car's sitting in my parking space, so I'll sit in your booth," he said calmly as he removed his Stetson and ran his fingers through sandy brown hair. He turned in his seat to hang the hat on the hook at the end of the booth by his crutches.


Aurora blushed when she realized this must be the man whose parking space she mischievously stole. Oh no, how terrible. He must have had to park a long way from the door and hobble in on those crutches. How embarrassing. The one time in her life she acted rudely, her victim turned out to be a man handicapped by a leg cast and crutches. Still, he had his nerve sitting beside her without so much as a "may I."


Her chin came up defensively. "Okay, I apologize. If you used one of those disability placards on your rear view mirror, people would know you have a problem."


"Lady, my problem is that you stole my parking space," the cowboy said coolly. He lifted his left leg so that the cast-encased foot rested on the seat facing them, then swiveled to gaze at her.


Aurora smelled the cowboy's after-shave mixed with the clean scent of his breath when he turned his face toward her. His stone gray eyes met hers. She saw anger drain from his eyes, replaced by stunned amazement. He leaned toward her.


Her awakened senses rocketed into response. Each thread on the sleeve of his blue chambray shirt seared where it touched her arm. For a moment Aurora had the astonishing thought that this cowboy might lean further forward and kiss her right here in public. Equally astonishing, but fleeting, came the thought that she wouldn't mind a kiss from this man. Her tongue flicked across her lips and she gave herself a mental shake, unable to turn away from his mesmerizing gaze.


What can you be thinking? You have absolutely no business falling for some good-looking cowboy out here in the middle of nowhere. Get a grip on yourself.


Her heart quelled the voice of reason within her mind. Aurora’s her stomach somersaulted from butterflies to flip-flops as she stared into the cowboy's wide gray eyes. She broke his gaze and peered at her folded hands a second before she threw them up in capitulation.


"Okay, Okay. I just don't know what came over me. I know you saw the parking space first, but I'm on Bubba-overload. Look, it's a long story, but it's been a real killer morning. Once again, I apologize and plead temporary insanity" She placed her hands palms down on the table.


His gaze raked over her, and one eyebrow elevated. "Well, well. I'm almost convinced there's remorse here. Almost--but not quite. Would you like to explain to me what 'Bubba-overload' is and what it has to do with me?"


"Listen, I apologized. Let's just drop it. Okay?" Surprised at the petulant tone in her voice, she adjusted the dark green scarf that held the hair back from her face


The man peered at her steadily, his voice polite but firm when he spoke. "No, ma'am, we can't drop it. I think I deserve an explanation after that 'Bubba' line. It sounded very much like an insult to me."


This man obviously had his hackles up and wanted a full explanation. After her morning's adventures, she found herself impatient with this cowboy, even though her mind recognized his request sounded reasonable. Finally, Aurora swiveled at her waist to face him as much as the limited space allowed. "Oh, well, if you insist. You wore that western hat and were in a pickup truck. At a glance, you looked like the typical red-necked Bubba. All you lacked was a big wad of tobacco bulging in your cheek."


She raised her hand and shook a finger at the man as if he were a delinquent school boy. "Listen, I've had my fill, and then some, with you guys. You follow me, whistle at me, lean out a truck window to sing to me, shout, or wave to me. I even receive various very rude gestures and get mooned. Believe it or not, I do nothing either to initiate or encourage any of this behavior."


A skeptical smile appeared and he raised his eyebrows. A flush of color heated her face at the memory of her behavior in the parking lot. She held up one hand to stop any comment he might make before she continued.


"Oh, I know, I acted brashly with you outside just now. Let me assure you, that's entirely unlike me. In fact, it's truly a first. I've never, ever done anything like that before."


She shook her head in wonder. "I don't know what came over me. As I said, it must have been temporary insanity due to Bubba-overload."


She pinched the fabric on the leg of the neatly creased blue denim jeans she wore. "Look at me. My jeans aren't skin-tight. They’re not painted on me." With a tug at the hem of her hunter-green knit top, she added, "My shirt isn't too tight, it has three-quarter sleeves, and the neck isn't low or revealing."


Aurora moved her knees and elevated a foot to display canvas shoes. "I'm wearing my little Keds, not flashy pumps with stiletto heels. All in all, I think I'm dressed very sedately and not at all in a provocative way."


The cowboy slid his glance slowly up and down her then back to her face before he smiled a slow, lazy smile that lit up his eyes and brought a dimple to his cheek. He reached over to grasp her untouched water glass and took a drink from it, his eyes returning to her face as he sipped the icy water.


Her own mouth opened as she watched his mouth against the rim of the glass. The tip of her tongue slid against her upper lip as the water slid into his mouth. She could almost feel his lips as they received the liquid. To hide the rising turbulence in the pit of her stomach, Aurora glared at him. In vain she tried to avoid thoughts of his stare or the dimple that appeared with his smile.

She forced herself to concentrate on her defense. "Um, I just drive along in my little blue Ford Mustang, enjoying the scenery and minding my own business. I do nothing to call attention to myself. I even try to be a good sport about the immature behavior some guys display."


She took a deep breath. "I try to take it all in stride and just keep on schedule but"--Aurora slammed her hands against the top of the table--"this morning, two very frightening Bubbas tried to run me off the highway and hijack me or my car."


His eyes widened and his mouth gaped, but she continued, "I'm only here because a State Trooper happened by in time to interrupt my abduction. Frankly, that scared the life out of me. The longer I thought about it, though, the angrier I became. By the time I got to this restaurant, I had completely lost my cool."


Aurora took a deep breath and gazed at her hands. She recalled the fright that consumed her when she realized the two men followed her. Only quick thinking on her part prevented the two ruffians from succeeding at their attempt to run her off the road and get her out of her car. She shuddered to think what might have happened if not for the State Trooper. And never, never would she forget the faces of those two men!


She waved her hands in a fluttery motion. "When I saw you in a truck the same color as the one that ran me off the road...well...I guess I just went bananas, berserk, crazy. That's why I'm pleading temporary insanity." Aurora leaned back and crossed her arms in front of her.


At this moment the waitress appeared with their food. Aurora stared in amazement as the waitress set the burger, fries and Dr Pepper in front of her and a duplicate of the order in front of the man beside her.


The waitress flashed what she probably thought of as her most seductive smile at the man. In a low, honeyed voice, she asked, "Anything else today, Will?"


He seemed unaware of the invitation in her voice or the hopeful sparkle in her eyes. "Not right now, Norma Sue, thanks. Go ahead and leave the check now and save yourself time."


When the disappointed waitress left, Aurora appraised Will. How could he fail to notice the waitress’ blatant invitation? Had he any idea how attractive he was? Hold on, this guy might be too good to be true.


Aurora gazed over he shoulder at the departing waitress. "How on earth did she know what to bring you? When did you give her your order?"


"When I came in." He leaned across her to get the salt and pepper. Will paused to flash her a truly breathtaking smile and the bottom fell out of her stomach again. "I also told her you’d pick up the check.”

To purchase BE MY GUEST for only 99 cents (and I hope you will), here are the links:

The Smashwords buy link is http://www.smashwords.com/books/view/36811?ref=CarolineClemmons

The Kindle buy link is http://www.amazon.com/BE-MY-GUEST-ebook/dp/B004M8T1EC/ref=sr_1_3?s=digital-text&ie=UTF8&qid=1321284462&sr=1-3

Thanks for stopping by!

GIVEAWAY, BLOG HOP, AND JENNIFER WILCK

Before I introduce my intriguing guest for today, please take note of the Spooktacular Giveaway Hop badge at the top of my sidebar. Over 400 blogs have combined--with the concept and planning by blog owners at “I’m a Reader, not a Writer” and “The Diary of a Bookworm.” For my participation, I’m giving away a pdf of one of my books (winner’s choice) each day of the Hop! Winners will be announced on November 1st. After you read the interview below, click on the graphic at the right to be taken to the list of participating blogs. Comments on this blog will be entered in my daily drawing and announced on November 1st. Please include your email. If you follow my blog, subscribe by email, and/or sign up for my newsletter, that counts as extra entries, so be sure to mention those.


Now . . . on to today’s guest, author Jennifer Wilcks.

Jennifer Wilck, Author

Caroline: Readers love to get to know authors. Please tell us about growing up.


Jennifer: Except for college, which I attended in St. Louis, I’ve been a Jersey girl all my life, and despite my best attempts, probably have the accent to prove it. I’ve no siblings, although I’ve always wished for an older brother, and I’m fairly shy in person (snarky on paper). I’m married with two girls and a dog.


Caroline: We also have two girls and a dog--and two cats--and I love snarky on paper! Who are your favorite authors and favorite genres?


Jennifer: My favorite author is Lynn Kurland. I love reading anything at all, but prefer women’s fiction and romance. Although I write contemporary romance, I prefer to read historical.


Caroline: As someone who frequently writes historical romance, I love to hear that! How many books do you read a month? What are you reading now?


Jennifer: My reading goes in spurts, depending on my time. Right now, I’m reading about a book a week. I just finished reading THE BEACH TREES by Karen White. It’s set in New Orleans and Biloxi, and it was fantastic! I highly recommend it.


Caroline: Sounds interesting. I loved her books set on Tradd and Legare. When you’re not writing, what’s your favorite way to relax and recharge?


Jennifer: I don’t have a lot of time to relax and recharge. I have two girls, aged 10 and 12 and they keep me very busy. When I’m not writing, I’m volunteering with my Temple, volunteering at their schools or trying to work on my to-do list, which is huge at the moment, due to my older daughter’s upcoming Bat Mitzvah. My hobbies (the rare times I get to engage in them) are refinishing furniture and craft projects. I enjoy hanging out with my husband and family.


Caroline: I remember when our girls were that age. I loved it, but they did keep me busy. Describe yourself in three or four words.


Jennifer: Wife, friend, mom, snarky


Caroline: Love the snarky part. How long have you been writing?


Jennifer: Forever. I’ve been writing since I was a kid. I started professionally in journalism, and made the switch to fiction about 5 years ago.


Caroline: I was a journalist for a while and loved it. Having deadlines is great training, as is writing whatever you’re assigned. Where do you prefer to write? Do you need quiet, music, solitude? PC or laptop?


Jennifer: I use a laptop. I need quiet, so most of my writing is done when the kids are at school and the husband is at work.


Caroline: Are you a plotter or a panzer?


Jennifer: I’m a total pantser. I tried to be a plotter for my current WIP and I’m paying for it now with a ton of editing.


Caroline: Do you use real events or persons in your stories or as an inspiration for stories?

Jennifer: Hah! I just wrote a piece about this for a blog I contribute to http://www.heroineswithhearts.blogspot.com/ . My stories are fiction, but I usually add a snippet or two of real life to them. For example, in A HEART OF LITTLE FAITH, the heroine tells a story about how, as a child, she used to give her dad back rubs and pretend his back was a pizza pie. She’d knead the dough, swish on the sauce, sprinkle the cheese and smack on the toppings. She’d have a pizza and he’d have a limber back. I used to do this with my dad when I was about 3 or 4 years old. In my latest book, SKIN DEEP, the heroine’s family goes to the racetrack every Thanksgiving and her mom has a particular betting strategy (you’ll have to read the book to find out what it is and if it works for you). My family and I used to do this every year and the betting strategy was actually my great-grandmother’s—yes, we’re a bunch of degenerates!

AVAILABLE NOW!

Caroline: When my youngest was 3 or 4, I used to have her walk barefoot on my back. Really helped. Tell us about your writing schedule. Do you set goals? Do you write daily?


Jennifer: I try to have a writing schedule, although it often gets disrupted. In general, Mondays are when I write my blog posts and edit my critique partner’s work. I try to write a few hours each of the other weekdays. I have goals in my head—a chapter, a scene, etc.—but I’m more flexible with those.


Caroline: How clever to do blog posts all in one day. I believe I’ll try that. What do you hope your writing brings to readers?.


Jennifer: I hope it brings rich characters and stories that stay with them forever.


Caroline: Don’t we all? What long-term plans do you have for your career?


Jennifer: That’s a tough one because I never really thought I’d be here. I’ve always written stories, but they were for my own pleasure. I was fortunate to have two of them published, but it wasn’t necessarily something I planned on happening. I guess long term, I’d like to continue with the way things are now and have more of my stories published and possibly expand into women’s fiction.


Caroline: Would you like to tell us what you’re working on now?


Jennifer: Love to! I’m working on another contemporary romance, but this one has a Jewish theme. The story is based loosely on the holiday of Purim and involves a hero and a heroine who hide their true natures from themselves and from those around them. When they are able to trust each other enough to reveal themselves, they fall in love.


Caroline: That sounds intriguing to readers whether they’re Jewish or not. Blossoming awareness and romance are always interesting. What advice would you give to unpublished authors?


Jennifer: I’d advise them to write what they love and to do it for the pleasure of writing. Don’t get bogged down by the “rules” and don’t write only to be published. If you like what you write, others will too and eventually you’ll realize your dreams.


Caroline: Excellent advice! Tell us about your latest release.

Available in November
From Whiskey Creek Press

Jennifer: My latest release is SKIN DEEP, coming in November from Whiskey Creek Press.


Here’s a blurb: The last thing Valerie needs, after escaping an abusive marriage to an alcoholic and rebuilding her life, is a broody, secretive, standoffish man. But that’s exactly what she gets when she becomes a makeup artist on the set of a hit sitcom and draws the attention of the series’ star.


John Samuels hides a terrible past—a life of abuse and neglect. A successful acting career and the affection and support of cast, crew and friends, does nothing to convince him that he is anything other than an unlovable monster.


Will he learn that the life he’s been living has been built on a lie or will he be doomed to repeat the sins of his father?


Caroline: You’ve hooked me already. Care to give us a peek?


Jennifer: Here’s the excerpt:


The square, plastic bottle crashed to the floor, the white cap skittered under a cabinet, and bisque-colored foundation splattered across the tile floor, where it made a Rorschach pattern within the large white squares. With a groan and a roll of her eyes, Valerie searched under the makeup table, found the errant cap, replaced it on the bottle, and returned the foundation to the tray. She grabbed a damp rag and wiped up the mess.


She looked at the shooting schedule and smiled as she ran her fingers down the smooth laminated page. Only three weeks into this job, she loved working as assistant make-up artist on “Oddballs,” a Top-10 weekly TV sitcom. She double-checked her kit for the supplies she’d need that day. So engrossed in her work, she didn’t notice her boss’ purple-spiked head in the door of the make-up trailer, or the ever-present smell of hair gel that hovered around her, until Michelle called her name.


“Hey, Valerie, a bunch of us are going out after work. Wanna come?”


Flashes from her past competed with images from the present at the sudden voice and Valerie stiffened. She shook her head to clear the jumble of images.


“Where are you going?” She wiped the remains of the foundation on the short cotton apron over her turquoise shirt and faded denim jeans. Eyes closed, she inhaled. The thick weave of rough fabric scraped her fingers and anchored her in the present, despite her body’s momentary lapse.


“Tico’s for some drinks. There’s about eight of us going. It’ll be fun and you can meet some of the crew.”


Valerie’s hands shook and knocked into the plastic bottles on the tray. They clinked together as the tubes slid into the scissors and destroyed their recent orderliness. She kept her face down, eyes averted, as her cheeks heated and her palms became sweaty. She had dreaded this moment. If they’d been going anywhere but a bar, she’d have joined them, but she couldn’t bring herself to go there. So, she had to perform a delicate bal-acing act. Somehow, she had to refuse this invitation, but leave open the possibility for others. Despite their different personal styles, she and Michelle had formed an instant bond. The last thing she wanted was to hurt their new friendship.


“I can’t tonight. Thanks for asking though. Maybe another time.” She took a deep breath and pasted on a smile.


“Hot date?” Michelle raised a perfectly plucked black eyebrow and grinned. Valerie grinned back. “Just with my laundry.”


“You’re turning me down for laundry? Come on, you can do that tomorrow.”


Valerie shook her head. “I really can’t tonight, Michelle. Next time.”


Michelle muttered under her breath as she left. Valerie sighed as the door banged shut and left her alone with her memories.


* * * *


That night, after all the scenes had been shot, Valerie waited for everyone to leave. She didn’t want to answer questions or receive pity.


She arranged and rearranged drawers and tools. The trailer contained three stations, each with its own make-up chair. A long table ran down one wall, with plenty of drawers for storage space. Well-lit mirrors hung above the table. Un-able to find anything else to do, and convinced by the silence that everyone had to have left, she took out her keys to lock up. She jumped as a knock sounded at the door, the trailer rattled, and a head peeked in.


“Valerie?”


“Oh, hi, John.” She expelled a deep breath and willed her heart to slow its frantic beat. “Do you need something?”


“No.” He entered and stood by the door. John Samuels played the lead. At almost six-foot three, he dwarfed the trailer and had to tip his head to fit. He folded his muscular arms across his chest and spread his feet apart. “Michelle told me you were not joining us tonight. I thought I would see if I could change your mind.”


Valerie rolled her eyes. “She is persistent.”


“You noticed.” John’s dark eyes twinkled. His mouth widened with a ghost of a smile. Valerie tried not to gasp.


He reminded her of a rugged cowboy—broad-shouldered, with a prominent brow, dark piercing eyes, high cheekbones, and a cleft chin. When he smiled, even a slight trace of one, his eyes looked like liquid velvet and his dimples twinkled like stars in the night sky. A five-o’clock shadow covered his cheeks. Her fingers itched to brush against their rough texture, to tease his mouth into a full-blown grin.


“So, what can I say to make you join us?”


As he leaned against the wall in well-fitting jeans and a T-shirt that left nothing to the imagination, Valerie’s mind said, “Sleep with me.” Heat crept up her neck, over her cheeks, and continued to the roots of her hair. A thin sheen of sweat dampened the space between her breasts. She felt the sudden urge to fan herself, like a damsel in distress in an old B-movie. Instead, she ignored her traitorous thoughts. Her balled fist pressed into her tight stomach.


“Tonight, not even chocolate will change my mind.”


She didn’t exactly lie. She had no intention of going to the bar, or of sleeping with him, no matter how her thoughts might try to sabotage her good intentions. She’d been fooled by surface finery before, and it had almost killed her. She wouldn’t let it happen again.


“I will remember that,” he promised. “But next time you will not get off so easy.” His eyes bored into hers for a moment, and then he turned on his heel and left.


* * * *


True to his word, John arrived the following day pre-pared for battle. With a cursory knock on the door, he dangled a bag of M&Ms inside the trailer, but snatched it back be-fore she could grab them. “We are going out for pizza. I will pick you up in ten minutes.” Before she could answer, he walked out.


Valerie shrugged as she finished her work. The new Val-eerie never allowed other people to make decisions for her, but she’d practically handed John a permission slip. And, he had M&M’s. How could she refuse?


Ten minutes later, he returned, ushered her out the door and down the steps. Although he didn’t touch her, she could imagine the warmth of his hand on the small of her back, and feel the gentle puff of his breath against her hair. The angle of his body steered her toward the others in the parking lot as if he had taken her by the hand and dragged her with him. An invisible electric charge pulled her. Or maybe it was his Dial-soap scent. That scent—soap and man—made her stomach flip flop. Her uncontrollable reaction to him disturbed her, especially since he appeared unaffected.


He remained silent, strode toward their meeting place, and studied his surroundings as if he expected someone to pop out of the shadows and yell, “Boo!”


Then she saw the brown bag of M&Ms sticking out of his white shirt pocket. Before he could stop her, she reached around and grabbed them, opened the bag and popped three in her mouth.


“Hey, those are mine!” He reached for the bag, but not fast enough to retrieve them.


“Not anymore.” As she danced away from him, she stuck another handful in her mouth.


He brought his hand up to his heart, as if she had wounded him deeply, but the twinkle in his eye gave him away. Valerie had all she could do not to burst out laughing.


“You did not have to take them, you know. I was plan-nine to give them to you later.” He pouted and his dark hair fell across his brow, but not before Valerie saw a flash of a smile turn the corners of his mouth up.


“Oh really? When?”


“After dinner, of course. I would not want to spoil your appetite.”


As if that were possible. Valerie laughed again and John grunted, a deep hoarse sound that climbed from the pit of his stomach and thrust its way out his mouth.


“What’s so funny?” Lara, from editing, asked as they joined the group of friends clustered outside the lot. All other conversation stopped as everyone waited for the answer.


John looked at Valerie and his ghost of a smile disappeared. He remained silent and backed up a pace, as if need-in to put distance between them now that there were others around. Lara rolled her eyes and walked on ahead as Valerie bent over and massaged the stitch in her side. She watched his feet walk away from her, listened to the crunch of gravel be-Neath his shoes as the warm, funny man disappeared.


“What, no laundry tonight?” taunted Michelle when Val-eerie looked up. She smirked and headed down the street with the rest of them as she stared at the broad expanse of John’s back up ahead and wondered about John’s sudden coldness. The connection she’d started to feel between them disappeared. He walked a pace or two in front of her, his back stiff, his arms held at his sides. With a shrug, she joined in the conversation around her and put John’s odd behavior out of her mind.


Three blocks later, they approached a dark, noisy pub. Valerie’s stomach clenched as the door opened and the smell of beer floated outside. Spots floated in front of her eyes and for a moment, she thought she would faint. Her throat con-stricter and she paused as she clamped her mouth shut against the bile that rose in her throat. She leaned against the cool brick wall and willed herself to breathe, even as the rough surface dug into her back. Her gaze darted down the crowded street, but before she had the chance to flee, John towered behind her.


“Don’t back out on me now,” he whispered. “I already gave you the M&Ms.” His warm breath blew against her shoulder and she took a jagged breath.


She turned, grateful for the distraction, and stared at his massive chest. Rock-hard muscles confronted her beneath his black T-shirt and for a moment, the clink of glasses on the bar and the grainy smell of beer faded away. All she could see was his immense body; all she could smell was his fresh, soapy scent; all she could feel was his solid chest in her imagination. Imagination wasn’t enough.


She lifted a trembling hand to touch him and he backed up just out of her reach. Blue eyes met gray and held for a moment. She swallowed, the gulp audible, and the spell broke. The sights, sounds, and smells rushed back to her. She ran her tongue across her lips, tasted the waxy flavor of her lipstick, and closed her eyes as she swayed.


John frowned and placed himself between her and the crowd at the bar. Out of the corner of her eye, she watched him nod to one or two people who smiled in recognition, but he remained at her side. Together, they walked across the sticky floor and past the loud band up front to their table in the back. He pulled out her chair and sat next to her, and she released a pent-up breath. She felt safe with him close to her. It’s not a bar, she told herself. It’s a restaurant that happens to serve drinks. She’d be fine.


John turned to her and leaned forward, his elbows on his knees. He clasped his large hands together and looked into her eyes. He held her gaze and as she stared into his thunder-head-colored eyes, she relaxed. “So, how do you like things so far, Valerie?”


“Here?”


“Well, I actually meant at work, but here too.”


Valerie blushed as she tried to focus on his words. “Oh, well, I love working on the show. I was a huge fan before I got the job, so it’s amazing to be a part of it now.” I sound like a babbling idiot.


John smiled. “What may I order for you?” He flagged down a big-bosomed, tight-shirted waitress with bright orange fingernails. She walked over, pen and pad ready. Every-one ordered beers. Valerie ordered a diet soda.


“Not ready to let loose yet, huh, Valerie?” asked Miguel, one of the crew, with a soft chuckle. Valerie smiled, but her cheeks felt as if they would crack and she looked away. John caught her eye and smiled at her. His unexpected warmth re-assured her almost as much as an arm around her shoulders.


She sat back and listened to the conversation at the table. All around her were people from work—Harry, the first AD; Ken, from production; Lara, and Tony, from wardrobe. Tina and Jeremy, John’s costars, had joined them as well. She crossed her fingers and joined in.


The waitress returned with their drinks and took their orders. Her ballpoint pen scratched across her pad as each person ordered a personal pizza, but changed the sauce, type of crust, and combination of toppings.


When the waitress turned to her, Valerie ordered a mushroom pie and a house salad.


The waitress paused, expectantly. As the silence continued, she raised an overly tweezed eyebrow.


“Is that it?”


“Yes,” Valerie answered.


“Are you sure?”


Valerie furrowed her brow. “Of course.” With a shake of her head, the waitress turned to John. She asked for his autograph and after he scrawled his name across a napkin, gave her his order, also simple but large—two personal pepperoni pizzas. During the course of the evening, John kept an eye on Valerie, made sure her drink never ran out, and that she par-tic pated in the conversation. When talk turned to something unfamiliar, he filled her in.


When they finally left, the muggy night air wrapped around Valerie like a cocoon and muffled the smells and sounds from inside. She stretched her spine and threw her shoulders back as she inhaled deeply for the first time all evening. John fell into step next to her and offered to walk her back to her car.


“Are you sure you don’t mind?” she asked, as they crossed the street.


“No one should walk by themselves at night.”


“Thanks, that’s really nice of you.” Although they walked next to each other, John left plenty of space between them. In spite of that, his size made her feel smaller than her five foot six frame. He didn’t intimidate her, and she peered sideways at him as she considered her lack of fear. Maybe because of the physical distance he maintained around her—he couldn’t hurt her if he were far away—or maybe his manners and the careful way he spoke put her at ease. Whatever the reason, she felt as comfortable walking with him as she would have with Michelle.


“Here’s my car.” She pointed to a blue Honda Civic parked under a lamp. “Thanks again for walking me out.”


“See you tomorrow.” He waited, hands deep in his pockets, feet spread apart, while she started the engine. He watched her wave and pull away. Something about her intrigued him—more than just her mysterious nerves or her simple pizza order, although those things contributed to it. She didn’t behave like the typical LA actor crowd who usually surrounded him. Her vulnerability aroused his protective nature. Not that she’d asked for his protection. She’d never ask him to take care of her, no one would. But still...


Caroline: Wonderful storytelling, and love both covers. Where can readers find your books?


Jennifer A HEART OF LITTLE FAITH and SKIN DEEP are available from the following:
From the publisher (Whiskey Creek Press): http://www.whiskeycreekpress.com/


From Amazon (SKIN DEEP will be posted there shortly): http://www.amazon.com/


From Fictionwise (SKIN DEEP will be posted there shortly): www.fictionwise.com


Caroline: Anything else you’d like readers to know? How can readers learn more about you?


Jennifer: I love to hear from readers and writers. You can reach me at my website: http://www.jenniferwilck.com/, on
Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/pages/Jennifer-Wilck/201342863240160 and on
Twitter: @JWilck.


I also write a blog, "Fried Oreos" http://www.jenniferwilck.wordpress.com/ and contribute to a group blog, "Heroines With Hearts" http://heroineswithhearts.blogspot.com/


Caroline: Thank you for being my guest, Jennifer, and sharing with us today. Best wishes for continued success in your writing career.

Readers, don’t forget to leave your email in your comment so that I can enter you in the daily drawing for a pdf of one of my books in the Spooktacular Giveaway Hop. If you join as a follower, that counts as a second entry as does signing up for my newsletter.


Thanks for stopping by!

POPCORN BOOKS: EASY GUIDES TO THE TECHNICAL STUFF WRITERS NEED

Stephanie Suesan Smith, PhD

Please welcome my eldest daughter. Althought I refer to her as Darling Daughter One, her name is Stephanie Suesan Smith. Her degree is in clinical psychology, but she is also a Master Gardener, non-fiction writer, photographer, and wood worker. In addition, she has helped me with our family research and located legal documents no one else in the family could find. Stephanie lives in East Texas with her two dogs, Star and Sandy. Along with Hero, Stephanie is my tech support. Nice to have a 24/7 helpline since I'm definitely cyber-challenged. Here's Stephanie:

POPCORN BOOKS: BITE-SIZED

GUIDES TO THE UNIVERSE^TM

Just read the manual. For many people, that phrase ranks right up there with “You need a root canal.” At least a dentist gives you anesthesia.

Technical people like to play with the more arcane parts of a program as much as, or more than, the straight forward parts. We forget that writers and other people have actual lives and just want to set up their social media stuff so they can get back to writing. Fortunately, some of us have non-technical people in our lives that remind us of that fact.

To that end, I am starting a series of guides I call POPCORN BOOKS: BITE-SIZED GUIDES TO THE UNIVERSE^TM. They contain just enough information to get you going without all the technical gobbledygook. Better yet, they are only 99 cents each at Amazon Kindle.

The first guide is called HOW TO USE SOCIAL MEDIA TO MAKE YOUR BLOG WORK HARDER. Getting your blog on Kindle, an Amazon author page, a Goodreads author page, Facebook, and Twitter are covered. In one swoop, you have five bases covered. I include screen shots showing exactly what to do, so you can set things up with as little difficulty as possible.

No Twitter account? No problem. The next pamphlet is HOW TO SET UP A TWITTER ACCOUNT. This guide covers establishing an account and making a nice looking profile page. You not only want a Twitter account, you want to appear as if you know what you are doing and drive traffic to your webpage and mailing list. Screenshots help you with this task, as well.

Other planned guides are:

• Setting up a Facebook personal page
• Setting up a Facebook fan page
• Setting up your Google profile
• Getting started on Google +
• Setting up a self-hosted Wordpress blog

Are there other topics you would like to see? If so, please let me know. My email is stephaniesuesansmith@gmail.com. My website is http://stephaniesuesansmith.com, if you want to see examples of my work.

Stephanie's dogs, Sandy left and Star in the

corner, on a recent visit to Caroline and Hero.

Sandy and Stare are waiting for Stephanie to catch up

from their walk and open the door for them to come inside
from our curent oppressive heat in North Central Texas.

Thanks, Stephanie, for letting us know about your guides and those you've planned in the future. The pamphlets definitely fill a need! And thanks for all the help you've given my friends in the past.

If you love either historical or contemporary western romance, please check http://texasdruids.blogspot.com/ for Lyn Horner's series on western romance. She's invited a number of western romance authors to guest post and share different aspects of the genre. The series appears twice a week through September 1st.