Archive for the ‘Stories’ Category
I’ve never liked the number 13.
And I’m not alone. According to Wikipedia, the Stress Management Center and Phobia Institute in Asheville, N.C., estimates that 17 to 21 million Americans are affected by a fear of this day, making it the most feared day and date in history.
“Some people are so paralyzed by fear that they avoid their normal routines in doing business, taking flights or even getting out of bed.”
I’m not THAT bad. But I am superstitious enough to avoid the number 13 whenever possible. At work, our computer system used to create a new version of a page every time you hit “save.” I’d keep close watch on that number, and when it hit “13,” I’d hurry up and do something else — even something as small as add a space to something — and save again. I was secretly convinced my computer would freeze up if I tried to work in the 13th version.
Same thing with photos. When I adjust them in Photoshop, I never set the brightness/contrast level at 13, for fear it’ll crash my computer. (Our system is old and slow, and has gone down for less.)
I secretly do a happy dance when a high-rise building doesn’t have a 13th floor. (I hate elevators enough without having to stare at a “13” button during the ride — unless they’re glass elevators. Strangely enough, those I handle much more easily. Maybe it’s because they feel airier?)
With my aversion to the number 13, you can imagine how thrilled I was when the calendar turned the page to 2013. I feared I was in for an entire year of terrible luck.
Now that nearly nine months of 2013 are in the can, I might have to change my tune.
Why? ’13 is turning out to be my lucky year — at least on the publishing front.
I made this Instaframe photo to commemorate the day I signed my first publishing contract.
I’ve sold not one but three manuscripts, and will make my Turquoise Morning Press debut with DIVA IN THE DUGOUT the week of Oct. 15.
Sounds like triskaidekaphobia will have to join the dislike/distrust of black cats in my book of superstitions debunked. The photo above is of my baby, Destiny, who crosses my path all the time and hasn’t brought me any bad luck. (In fact, she was the inspiration for both Bree and Mike’s cats in OVEREXPOSED.) Don’t ask my why she looks stoned in that picture. I snapped it just last night, and she had no access to catnip.
For more about superstitions, check out today’s post at the Ruby Slippered Sisterhood.
And come back tomorrow for a My Sexy Saturday post featuring my most superstitious heroine, Erin Mannering, and her hero, Brad Kingston, who — please forgive me — puts the “stud” in social studies.
Good morning, everyone. It’s Saturday, and you know what that means: Time to kick back with another round of My Sexy Saturday reads.
The rules:
Post 7 paragraphs or 7 sentences or 7 words. The choice is yours. It can be from a WIP or something you already have published. Your post should be live by 9 am US Pacific Time on Saturday. Put those lucky 7s to work for you!
To celebrate the sale of my 2011 Golden Heart-finaling manuscript, BEAUTY AND THE BALLPLAYER, to Turquoise Morning Press, here’s an excerpt.
In this scene, the book’s opener, Meg has just realized she’s pregnant and almost lost her job. She and her still-employed co-workers have hit the local watering hole to celebrate the fact that they still have jobs. But she’s feeling weak and needs to sit — and finds herself battling a sexy stranger for the only open table in the bar.
***
As Meg slid into the seat he’d so ungraciously offered, she ordered her unruly hormones to simmer down. A man was the last thing she needed tonight — or maybe ever again. “Didn’t your mother ever teach you not to stare?”
“Sorry.” The word was an apology, but he didn’t look the least bit contrite. “I can’t help staring at beautiful women. It’s my biggest character flaw.”
Beautiful? After the day she’d had — confirming she was pregnant, fighting off morning sickness … all day long … and dealing with a fresh round of layoffs at the foundering ad agency she worked for — even a blind man would know she looked like hell.
Despite her bad mood and his too-obvious pickup line, Meg found herself smiling at the guy. After all, it took guts to tell such a blatant lie — and it’d be nice to talk to a brave man for a change. Her ex, who’d run off to Vegas last month to try his hand at the professional poker circuit, had certainly been lacking in that department. Besides, with her friends otherwise occupied, she had nothing to do but make conversation.
After enduring his appraisal, she had no qualms about completing one of her own. She slid her gaze from the tuft of thick, chestnut hair poking through the back of his burgundy-and-white cap downward, over his golden-brown eyes, straight nose and smiling mouth. She took in his toned arms, broad chest, tree-trunk thighs and — oh my.
Perhaps he had good reason for his arrogance. Meg jerked her eyes back to his face. After they’d mentally stripped each other, it didn’t feel right to not know the man’s name. She extended her hand. “I’m Meg.”
He eyed her outstretched hand, his lips lifting again. She grinned back as she rescinded her offer. He was right: They already knew each other too well for a mere handshake.
Beauty and the Ballplayer, coming in 2014 from Turquoise Morning Press.
In case you missed the good news on Facebook, I signed another contract today. And this time, it was a multi-book contract.
That’s right: I sold not one but two more books in my baseball series, tentatively titled “All’s Fair in Love & Baseball,” to Turquoise Morning Press.
They sent me an email earlier in the week about wanting to offer me a contract for BEAUTY AND THE BALLPLAYER, my 2011 Golden Heart finalist. And when I responded “Absolutely, positively yes, I accept,” I also mentioned that I’d begun writing Book 3 in the series. I said it was still in the early stages, and as-yet untitled, but gave a quick rundown of the premise …
It’s the first baseman’s story — spoiled second-generation ballplayer trying to outrun his father’s long shadow. The heroine is his lawyer, whom he thinks is the exotic dancer he got busted for trying to defend. (The dancer’s her twin sister, though.)
— From my email
… And they loved the premise enough to pick it up sight unseen.
Gulp.
That’s both marvelous and frightening, since I’ve only got a few thousand words down right now. But I have a week-plus of vacation starting next Thursday, and I intend to get at least the bones of the story down while I’m off.
It’s probably a good thing I didn’t mention Book 4, since it’s not more than mere glimmer in my eye: I see an injured pitcher falling for his physical therapist … I have no idea how he got injured, though, and no clear idea of the heroine.
Soon, there’ll be three books of mine running free in the published world. Plus my indie-pubbed holiday novella … I’d better get back to work!
You know what day it is, right? Saturday! That means it’s time for another entry in the My Sexy Saturday blog hop.
The rules are simple:
Post 7 paragraphs or 7 sentences or 7 words. The choice is yours. It can be from a WIP or something you already have published. Your post should be live by 9 am US Pacific Time on Saturday. Put those lucky 7s to work for you!
This week, I thought I’d give you another peek at Kari and Damien from “Blind Date Bride.” I’m breaking the rules by serving up a couple of extra paragraphs — but since some of my lines are one or two words long, I think y’all can roll with it.
Kari and Damien, strangers who were married after becoming the lucky winners of a blind date wedding, have just agreed to allow cameras to film them for a “Newlyweds” type of show over the course of their network-mandated 90-day “cohabitation period.”
Kari agreed because the network offered them extra cash, but only hours later — when it’s time for bed — does she realize what the decision means for their sleeping arrangements. Her new roommate is now also a bedmate. With the camera crews around 24/7, they’d actually have to sleep in the same room — so she can no longer bank on coasting through the next 88 days or so by avoiding her unwanted husband.
***
Kari plumped her newly acquired pillow, stretched out on her back and stared up at the ceiling. The ceiling fan whirred lazily, making only a few slow circles before Kari was convinced that no one would be spending the night on Damien’s floor. The hardwood floor wasn’t just rock-hard; it was also freezing cold. Kari didn’t know how that was possible when it was in the low 80s outside, but if she didn’t climb into Damien’s bed soon, her boxer-clad butt was going to end up with a severe case of frostbite.
Her gaze flitted from the ceiling to the bed, where Damien still sat, watching her intently.
“Stop looking at me like that!” she snapped.
“Like what?”
“Like you’re on a diet and I’m a hot fudge sundae!”
Damien rolled his eyes. “You think you’re that irresistible, huh?”
“Well —” Kari began. More concerned with her own response to the look he was giving her, she hadn’t thought about how conceited the complaint would make her sound.
“Because I have news for you, sweetheart. I can resist — no problem.”
Kari stood up and sat on the edge of Damien’s bed opposite him, but not before scowling at him. “You don’t have to be such a jerk about it.”
He glowered right back. “Why shouldn’t I be? You’re basically saying you don’t trust me to keep my hands to myself, right?”
“Uh —”
“Because I’ve never had to force my attentions on an unwilling woman before, and I don’t intend to start anytime soon. So until you decide you want my hands on you, you have nothing to worry about.”
“Blind Date Bride” coming to e-bookstores everywhere in Spring 2014.
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