Monday, May 24, 2010

Another sneak peek at SECRET LOVE MATCH


“Are you ready to enjoy dinner and dancing?” Becka asked. And, a quick kiss good night?
Turning toward the door, she bent over to pick up her shawl and purse from the couch. She better not think about kissing Taylor Adams. The memory of his caress sent shivers down her spine as she moved toward the door.
“I’ve never been to this club. I hope I fit in.”
She couldn’t help notice the concern in his voice. Him? Shy? Impossible. Did he worry his age topped others that frequented the place? Ridiculous. So why did he sound apprehensive?
“I’ve eaten there with friends but I’ve never been to the upstairs dance hall. If we don’t like it, I know another place we can try. Of course, we’ll fit in. Admit it, Taylor…” When Becka paused, he met her gaze head-on.
“Admit what?”
“We look hot.”
His stunned expression brought a smile to her face.
“Come on, this’ll be fun.” She pulled him by the hand to the elevator. She liked that he squeezed her hand in return. Would he compare their date to one of the glamorous clubs in Hollywood where he usually hung out? They most likely welcomed performers of every venue and vintage, as well as friends to help a celebrity like him spend his money.
New York differed from Hollywood. A more sophisticated city with special needs and horrific memories, New Yorkers didn’t waste their time on freaks and has-beens. Of course, he didn’t fit in either of those categories.
Did he think he did?
The elevator ride passed in silence. She followed him toward the curb and smiled her thanks to the doorman who quickly opened the door to the cab Taylor had waiting.
“This is nice,” she said. He sat in stony silence until he turned and gave her a slightly crooked grin.
Oh, God, she sighed. She closed her eyes, instantly reminded of nighttime dreams of that grin as he swooped in with his spaceship to rescue her from demonic aliens. Not wanting him to think she’d fallen asleep in his company, she opened her eyes and smiled.
The yellow cab pulled up to a building where spotlights bounced off an elegant fa├žade boasting a combination of large, smooth river stones and shimmering steel. A tall, massive man, dressed all in black, helped her from the taxi.
“The bouncer?” she whispered to Taylor.
“I better behave myself.”

Thursday, May 20, 2010



Here's a sneak peek at my debut contemporary romance;

Becka smoothed her suddenly perspiring palms down her hips and prayed they didn’t leave a trail of moisture. She walked to the door, her high heels echoing across the parquet flooring. She blew out a deep breath and opened her door.
“Hi. You look great.” Taylor said as he flashed his familiar, crooked grin. He walked past her into the condo.
Struck speechless, she could only muster a stare. I think I look mighty good and in walks Adonis, Caesar, and Alexander the Great rolled into one.
His damp hair, most likely from the shower, shone like tarnished gold in the waning light of the late afternoon sun. He sauntered toward her balcony’s glass doors. The scent of soap and lime aftershave lingered. His chiseled jaw, clean of any evening growth of whiskers, seemed even tanner than she remembered. An expertly fitted jacket showed off his wide shoulders and trim waist.
“Is that Armani?”
He nodded, his attention on the view of the water several stories below. Why had she assumed he lived as a broke, out-of-work actor? His gaze swung to the right to take in her living area’s soft colors and simple decor. She smiled with pride.
She had lived with her parents while working as an instructor at the club. She managed to save enough money for a down payment on her one bedroom condominium. Becka prided herself that her parent’s money had not been involved in the purchase, except for the living room set.
Her mom clearly stated she should accept the matched grouping of Shaker pine furniture as a gift.
He slipped his hands in both pockets and whistled.
“What a view. We’re pretty high up. Is that Connecticut?” His chin pointed to a green coastline dotted with miniature buildings. Sailing yachts slipped through the serene, jade-green water of the Sound.
“Actually, I believe that’s still New York. The Connecticut border is more northeast,” she explained. Had her voice really come out in a whisper? All of a sudden her throat seemed too tight and he appeared nervous.
He peered out in the direction she mentioned, not at her, and then up at the sky. Still early evening, the heavens slowly darkened. The weather had been pleasant all week and she smiled when he sighed. Did he wish he could trade places with those boaters?
“I love the Atlantic Ocean. I grew up nearby, in Massachusetts.
“Really? I didn’t know.”
“Who would? My agent kept it quiet. A sleepy little town north of Boston didn’t fit my profile.” He continued to gaze straight ahead. “I’d love to be out there with the wind in my hair.”
She smiled at his reflection in the glass. Still, why did he look so uneasy? As the wise and worldly actor, he flaunted his good looks and bedded famous women all the time. She’d read it all in his profile. Had his agent made it up as well? Whatever the truth, she would not become his latest conquest no matter how good he smelled or how great he looked.

Friday, May 14, 2010

PLEASE HELP STAMP OUT DIABETES!

Red Rose Publishing authors and the publisher releasing my debut contemporary romance, SECRET LOVE MATCH, are proud supporters of the 6th ANNUAL BRENDA NOVAK DIABETES AUCTION. The auction runs all this month.

Brenda Novak Diabetes Auction

Wednesday, May 12, 2010

WRITING IS WORK!


The next person who says writing romance is a hobby better watch out. Writing is work, clear and simple. Sure, ideas might pop up or a dream might linger, but take an idea and plot a 400 page book and see how quick that illusion fades. A friend sent this link from a very savvy lady who reminds me of myself: a wife, a mother, a college graduate, who has worked full-time in the private sector for too many years.

The best answer to all those nay-sayers is this article titled:
I Write Romance Novels-So What? by Eileen Dreyer aka Kathleen Korbel, an author with 36 novels under her belt. Take a look:

I write romance novels -- so what?



Enough said!