Friday, May 25, 2012

Blanket For Her Heart is Free Today!

I republished RC Bonitz blog appearance today in case you missed out on your free book. Keep reading to obtain your copy today.


Get a FREE copy of A BLANKET FOR HER HEART at  AMAZON  May 24 and 25. 

Good morning world. I thought I've done enough blogging for a while, so I ducked out of this interview and left the stage to Anne Hoskins, the heroine of my latest book. Here you go with Anne and Carlie Rosey.    

An interview with Carlie Rosey, talk show host, and Anne Hoskins, the heroine of A Blanket for Her Heart.

Carlie: My guest today is Anne Hoskins. Formerly a resident of Jamestown, Rhode Island, and the inadvertent heroine of A Blanket for Her Heart. Welcome to the show Ms. Hoskins. How was your flight?

Anne Hoskins: It was very smooth. Thank you so much for having me. I'm delighted to be here.

Carlie:  You must be overwhelmed with all the attention and publicity you're getting lately. From obscurity to stardom-you've had a remarkable trip.

Anne: I wouldn't call myself a star. I'm just a heroine of a book. Shouldn't you be talking to the author? He's really the --.

Carlie: I invited RC Bonitz but he had another commitment today. I wonder, does he resent you getting the top billing?

Anne:  I never thought of that. I don't see why he would. After all, anything that--.

Carlie:  I've heard it said that you basically dictated the book to him. Are you saying that's not true?

Anne:  I didn't say anything of the sort. Though, actually I did have to hold his hand so to speak and guide him through some of it. He'd get this sort of starry-eyed look about him when we discussed some of my personal scenes. I'd have to snap my fingers to draw his attention back to--.

Carlie:  Are you suggesting he was falling in love with you?

Anne:  Ha ha. Paul wouldn't have liked that scenario very much. You know Paul- the hero? He would have lit into RC if he'd hit on me at all. Though, now that you mention it, he did get a little dreamy-eyed when we were alone some--..

Carlie:  When he was writing the love scenes I suppose?

Anne:  No no, not at all.

Carlie:   You're blushing. I thought the book was about you and Paul. All about the changes you faced in your life of course, but Paul was certainly a major player throughout the story.

Anne:  Oh yes, we certainly became lovers, but you're right about the story focusing on me. Paul inspired me to give wings to my life, but I really had to be the one to lead the way. The whole process was so personal. RC was wonderful though,  very sweet and underst--.

Carlie:  I heard A Blanket For Her Heart is doing very well. Tell me about your next project.

Anne:  Actually, I don't really have one. I'm extremely busy at the moment with my new life. RC hasn't mentioned a sequel but I'd be willing to --.

Carlie:  Would you? Well that's a story for another day. I'm afraid we're out of time now. Thank you for joining me today.

Anne:  Thank you. I have someone waiting for me in the green room, so I'll say goodbye. Remember, keep talking about A Blanket For Her Heart.
 

A BLANKET FOR HER HEART will be available FREE 5/24 and 5/25 at Amazon. Kindle version only. Pick up a copy for the weekend. Check out an excerpt below.

A BLANKET FOR HER HEART- EXCERPT



~ ONE ~



First light formed leaf shadows on the cabinets as she entered the kitchen. Those big trees had been there for years, but they were old now, tall and thinned out, blocking less of the early morning sun. Winter sometimes seemed better, on sunny days when bright rays slid through barren branches to flood the breakfast table. Not always though. Not when winter’s cold was dark and penetrating.

Bright and sunny, just comfortable, the day was starting well. She’d been up since three, reading and pacing, waiting for the light so she could start her day outside. Early was a pattern lately, into bed and out of it, bored to numbness when sleep was so elusive.

Her friend Molly thought it was time to see a doctor, but there was nothing a professional could say she didn’t know already. Physically her health was perfect.

"I need a new bed, that’s all," she told her friend. "Besides, I’m always thinking of what I’m going to do in the morning."

"What’s so important?" Molly asked, and she offered the usual list of things.

That was what she did, things. This thing, that thing, nothing. Tend her garden, read Jane Austen or some travel book; wash the dishes, paint, or whatever. Granted, her paintings were beautiful and she did so many one always sat unfinished on the easel, but she hadn’t sold any. Furniture restorations brought in some income, but she usually didn’t do that many pieces.

Fifty-four years old and not counting, she lived like a hermit with few friends. She did know one neighbor, but she’d never married, and had always lived alone. Molly often told her she’d be happier if she did more with her life and she struggled with such thoughts these days.

She turned on the TV, hoping the movie channel might have something good.

Sly Stallone in his first Rambo. So stimulating. Thought provoking. Annoyed but too bored to care, she settled back in the sofa and within minutes the images barely touched her mind. By seven-thirty, she’d had enough and punched the off button with the remains of her wrist. Dry cereal and milk, half an orange, and coffee for breakfast; she dumped the dirty dishes in the sink twenty minutes later and abandoned the kitchen.

The patio garden looked like an impressionist’s palette. Her one green thumb coaxed flowers to brilliant life year round. Indoors in winter of course, but she had plants ready to bloom as spring temperatures began. Each morning she spent two hours weeding and pruning, winding her fingers through the dirt to carefully arrange it to her whim. The stump of her left arm served as well as her right hand, caressing dirt and flowers with the same gentle touch. It was a touch returned by the earth, giving her the best hours of each day in quiet occupation of her mind. She put a dozen pansies in a juice glass and remembered she hadn’t thanked Molly for picking up the flats this year.

After gardening, she returned rake and hoe to the garage and cleaned up at the slop sink in the corner. She wiped black dirt from her knees and delivered a good scrubbing to the right hand. A brush screwed to the wall just above the sink did the job. Small stitch scars in her stump got an easy wipe. The skin was smooth and quite soft for all the abuse it got. Both hand and stump got a dose of hand cream, spread liberally, but only lightly rubbed. A wipe with the old towel she kept handy finished the job.

Lunch was the usual. Peanut butter and grape jam on white, red wine, and a handful of Lorna Doones. Sometimes it was cream cheese instead of peanut butter, chocolate chips instead of Lorna Doones, but that was about it as far as variety went. She took two glasses of merlot this time instead of one. That was not unusual lately.

Afterwards, she wrapped a dishtowel around the left arm and secured it with two rubber bands to wash the dishes.

"You’d be amazed what I can buy through the mail now, Hannah. Rubber bands, seeds, books, clothes, all sorts of things. You’d probably be selling things on a website these days yourself." She wiped the breakfast bowl with the left arm towel and set it on the drying rack. "Not like me though. I hate that ridiculous computer. Molly talked me into buying one, but I can barely turn it on right.

"I’m having trouble with that painting I've been working on too. It looks so bland, not even that maybe, so much as gray and dismal. I should probably trash the thing. You know what? I think I’m going to catch a little sun this afternoon."

It was one sided, this conversation with her dead grandmother, but quite all right. She knew it was imaginary, though sometimes it almost seemed she got an answer.

Her father got an occasional remark as well, but little more. It was Hannah she talked to, Hannah she often wished were truly at her side. Their chats had served to keep her company, at least until now. There was no one else to talk to most of the time.

Except Molly, or Grace, when one of them came around. Which didn’t seem to be that often lately. The house was still too, her world so very silent these last few months.

Dishes washed, towel removed, she headed for the bathroom, stripping off her pink tee shirt as she went. She dropped it in the hamper, brushed her teeth and hair, and relieved herself quickly. Then it was out to the patio, where she pulled one white lounge chair into place and stretched out to take the sun on her back. She’d heard all the cancer warnings, but never did the sun thing very long. Besides, everyone needed some vices in their life.

Face down on the lounge, wearing only shorts, she was drifting into sleep when something made a sound behind her. She turned. A man smiled weakly, then stared, eyes wide, as she dashed for the house.

"Please. I need help," he called as she slammed the door in his face.

                                      Here is the buy link.

http://www.amazon.com/A-Blanket-Her-Heart-ebook/dp/B007VEBFXY/ref=sr_1_1?s=digital-text&ie=UTF8&qid=1337953607&sr=1-1

Thursday, May 24, 2012

Juliet Chastain visits today


     Today's guest is author Juliet Chastain talking about her new release For the Love of a Gypsy Lass.


Greetings, fellow romance readers and writers.  I am in the middle of writing a series of short stories called Gypsy Lovers. One has been released and more to come each month. These are sexy 99-cent novellas, set in the Regency period about Gypsies and the English men and women love them.



 I wanted to do some stories in which totally inappropriate, culturally, and socially mismatched men and women find love together. I've always been fascinated by the Romani people, Gypsies, who for a thousand years traveled around Europe and were very separate from, and often despised by and even persecuted by, the people among whom they lived.



In the first book, A Proper Lady's Gypsy Lover, we have Lady Lucy-Ann who is a hellion. She does not want to be a proper lady although her relatives require it. What she wants is to roam free and swim and fish and ride astride. And most of all she wants to be with her childhood sweetheart the handsome Gypsy, Liberty Wood. Liberty is the caring kind of man who will do anything for the people he loves, but he's also a gambler, a horse trader, and an adventurer. Of course, he adores Lucy-Ann but is a totally unsuitable suitor.



In the second book, For Love of a Gypsy Lass, we have a bored-out-of-his-skull English nobleman, Lord Harry Beresford who has simply had it with his luxurious and dull existence and the noble and dull ladies he is supposed to court. He falls hard for an itinerant Gypsy singer called Talaitha Grey. He assumes she can be easily seduced by his wealth and prestige, but to his surprise she's not the least bit interested in any of that—although she is, against her will, attracted to the man behind it all.



Somehow these characters must find their way to happily ever after—and they do so in unexpected ways.




A Proper Lady's Gypsy Lover is available at Breathless Press! | Amazon | All Romance eBooks and at many e-book stores

For Love of a Gypsy Lass will be released soon and available as above

To learn more about upcoming stories or about me: julietchastain.com While you're there, check out my other short romances: The Captain and the Courtesan and The Cry of the Wolf. You can also find me on www.facebook.com/JulietChastain or Twitter@julietchastain




Monday, May 21, 2012

Enjoy a free copy of Blanket For Her Heart by RC Bonitz

            Read on to find out how to get your copy.
Get a FREE copy of A BLANKET FOR HER HEART at  AMAZON  May 24 and 25. 

Good morning world. I thought I've done enough blogging for a while, so I ducked out of this interview and left the stage to Anne Hoskins, the heroine of my latest book. Here you go with Anne and Carlie Rosey.    

An interview with Carlie Rosey, talk show host, and Anne Hoskins, the heroine of A Blanket for Her Heart.

Carlie: My guest today is Anne Hoskins. Formerly a resident of Jamestown, Rhode Island, and the inadvertent heroine of A Blanket for Her Heart. Welcome to the show Ms. Hoskins. How was your flight?

Anne Hoskins: It was very smooth. Thank you so much for having me. I'm delighted to be here.

Carlie:  You must be overwhelmed with all the attention and publicity you're getting lately. From obscurity to stardom-you've had a remarkable trip.

Anne: I wouldn't call myself a star. I'm just a heroine of a book. Shouldn't you be talking to the author? He's really the --.

Carlie: I invited RC Bonitz but he had another commitment today. I wonder, does he resent you getting the top billing?

Anne:  I never thought of that. I don't see why he would. After all, anything that--.

Carlie:  I've heard it said that you basically dictated the book to him. Are you saying that's not true?

Anne:  I didn't say anything of the sort. Though, actually I did have to hold his hand so to speak and guide him through some of it. He'd get this sort of starry-eyed look about him when we discussed some of my personal scenes. I'd have to snap my fingers to draw his attention back to--.

Carlie:  Are you suggesting he was falling in love with you?

Anne:  Ha ha. Paul wouldn't have liked that scenario very much. You know Paul- the hero? He would have lit into RC if he'd hit on me at all. Though, now that you mention it, he did get a little dreamy-eyed when we were alone some--..

Carlie:  When he was writing the love scenes I suppose?

Anne:  No no, not at all.

Carlie:   You're blushing. I thought the book was about you and Paul. All about the changes you faced in your life of course, but Paul was certainly a major player throughout the story.

Anne:  Oh yes, we certainly became lovers, but you're right about the story focusing on me. Paul inspired me to give wings to my life, but I really had to be the one to lead the way. The whole process was so personal. RC was wonderful though,  very sweet and underst--.

Carlie:  I heard A Blanket For Her Heart is doing very well. Tell me about your next project.

Anne:  Actually, I don't really have one. I'm extremely busy at the moment with my new life. RC hasn't mentioned a sequel but I'd be willing to --.

Carlie:  Would you? Well that's a story for another day. I'm afraid we're out of time now. Thank you for joining me today.

Anne:  Thank you. I have someone waiting for me in the green room, so I'll say goodbye. Remember, keep talking about A Blanket For Her Heart.


A BLANKET FOR HER HEART will be available FREE 5/24 and 5/25 at Amazon. Kindle version only. Pick up a copy for the weekend. Check out an excerpt below.

A BLANKET FOR HER HEART- EXCERPT



~ ONE ~



First light formed leaf shadows on the cabinets as she entered the kitchen. Those big trees had been there for years, but they were old now, tall and thinned out, blocking less of the early morning sun. Winter sometimes seemed better, on sunny days when bright rays slid through barren branches to flood the breakfast table. Not always though. Not when winter’s cold was dark and penetrating.

Bright and sunny, just comfortable, the day was starting well. She’d been up since three, reading and pacing, waiting for the light so she could start her day outside. Early was a pattern lately, into bed and out of it, bored to numbness when sleep was so elusive.

Her friend Molly thought it was time to see a doctor, but there was nothing a professional could say she didn’t know already. Physically her health was perfect.

"I need a new bed, that’s all," she told her friend. "Besides, I’m always thinking of what I’m going to do in the morning."

"What’s so important?" Molly asked, and she offered the usual list of things.

That was what she did, things. This thing, that thing, nothing. Tend her garden, read Jane Austen or some travel book; wash the dishes, paint, or whatever. Granted, her paintings were beautiful and she did so many one always sat unfinished on the easel, but she hadn’t sold any. Furniture restorations brought in some income, but she usually didn’t do that many pieces.

Fifty-four years old and not counting, she lived like a hermit with few friends. She did know one neighbor, but she’d never married, and had always lived alone. Molly often told her she’d be happier if she did more with her life and she struggled with such thoughts these days.

She turned on the TV, hoping the movie channel might have something good.

Sly Stallone in his first Rambo. So stimulating. Thought provoking. Annoyed but too bored to care, she settled back in the sofa and within minutes the images barely touched her mind. By seven-thirty, she’d had enough and punched the off button with the remains of her wrist. Dry cereal and milk, half an orange, and coffee for breakfast; she dumped the dirty dishes in the sink twenty minutes later and abandoned the kitchen.

The patio garden looked like an impressionist’s palette. Her one green thumb coaxed flowers to brilliant life year round. Indoors in winter of course, but she had plants ready to bloom as spring temperatures began. Each morning she spent two hours weeding and pruning, winding her fingers through the dirt to carefully arrange it to her whim. The stump of her left arm served as well as her right hand, caressing dirt and flowers with the same gentle touch. It was a touch returned by the earth, giving her the best hours of each day in quiet occupation of her mind. She put a dozen pansies in a juice glass and remembered she hadn’t thanked Molly for picking up the flats this year.

After gardening, she returned rake and hoe to the garage and cleaned up at the slop sink in the corner. She wiped black dirt from her knees and delivered a good scrubbing to the right hand. A brush screwed to the wall just above the sink did the job. Small stitch scars in her stump got an easy wipe. The skin was smooth and quite soft for all the abuse it got. Both hand and stump got a dose of hand cream, spread liberally, but only lightly rubbed. A wipe with the old towel she kept handy finished the job.

Lunch was the usual. Peanut butter and grape jam on white, red wine, and a handful of Lorna Doones. Sometimes it was cream cheese instead of peanut butter, chocolate chips instead of Lorna Doones, but that was about it as far as variety went. She took two glasses of merlot this time instead of one. That was not unusual lately.

Afterwards, she wrapped a dishtowel around the left arm and secured it with two rubber bands to wash the dishes.

"You’d be amazed what I can buy through the mail now, Hannah. Rubber bands, seeds, books, clothes, all sorts of things. You’d probably be selling things on a website these days yourself." She wiped the breakfast bowl with the left arm towel and set it on the drying rack. "Not like me though. I hate that ridiculous computer. Molly talked me into buying one, but I can barely turn it on right.

"I’m having trouble with that painting I've been working on too. It looks so bland, not even that maybe, so much as gray and dismal. I should probably trash the thing. You know what? I think I’m going to catch a little sun this afternoon."

It was one sided, this conversation with her dead grandmother, but quite all right. She knew it was imaginary, though sometimes it almost seemed she got an answer.

Her father got an occasional remark as well, but little more. It was Hannah she talked to, Hannah she often wished were truly at her side. Their chats had served to keep her company, at least until now. There was no one else to talk to most of the time.

Except Molly, or Grace, when one of them came around. Which didn’t seem to be that often lately. The house was still too, her world so very silent these last few months.

Dishes washed, towel removed, she headed for the bathroom, stripping off her pink tee shirt as she went. She dropped it in the hamper, brushed her teeth and hair, and relieved herself quickly. Then it was out to the patio, where she pulled one white lounge chair into place and stretched out to take the sun on her back. She’d heard all the cancer warnings, but never did the sun thing very long. Besides, everyone needed some vices in their life.

Face down on the lounge, wearing only shorts, she was drifting into sleep when something made a sound behind her. She turned. A man smiled weakly, then stared, eyes wide, as she dashed for the house.

"Please. I need help," he called as she slammed the door in his face.

Friday, May 4, 2012

Real Virtue Author Katy Lee


How a Personality Test Led to Real Virtue



Hi, Marian, thank you for having me in your virtual home today. I’m excited to share a little tidbit about myself with your readers, so here goes…

I love research. It is my favorite part of writing. I know I learn more than I will ever need for my stories, but I love stretching my mind and filling it with knowledge. I do have to say, though, I didn’t always know this about myself.  

It was a few years back when I realized research was exciting for me. I took a personality test in a leadership course at the local college. The outcomes for the test were nine different personalities, one of which was The Researcher -- A person who seeks knowledge for understanding life. I skimmed over that one, dubbing it as “booooring,” and zeroed in on The Artist -- A person who seeks beauty in life. I thought for sure that one was me.
 
Imagine my disappointment when my scores came back announcing me as The Researcher.

Seriously?

 
But after my initial desire to flush the test, I realized that I do live to understand how things work, and in fact, I don’t need to seek beauty in life -- I can actually research how to make my own. That’s when I started writing and doing just that.

 
In my new release, Real Virtue, my heroine is a gamer. (And, yes, for my research I had to open every online game account I could find.) My story opens with Mel Mesini reaching the highest level in this online interactive game she plays. A game that promises her a life she can love. She’s playing while she is supposed to be working. She plays because she doesn’t feel so great about her real life. She plays because it’s a perfect world she can control—until someone begins messing with her virtual life, breaking into her account and stealing all her possessions.
 
And since I write romance, I needed a hero that would be Mel’s perfect match…and not just virtually, but someone intelligent and real. Someone handsome and brave. Someone that could outshine her alluring fantasy world.



BLURB:

In a virtual reality game where she can fly, someone’s aiming to take her down.

Mel Mesini is a New York City restaurateur and an avid, virtual reality world traveler. She’s risen above her misfit life and now bears a striking resemblance to her glamorous, gaming avatar. But her successful life—both online and in reality—takes a swerve the night her father is seriously injured in a hit-and-run. Mel is careened back to her judgmental hometown, where being the daughter of the town’s crazy lady had made her the outcast she was. To make matters worse, Officer Jeremy Stiles, the man whose harsh, rejecting words had cut her the deepest, is heading the investigation.

Jeremy knows he hurt Mel and attempts to make amends by finding her father’s assailant. When he realizes she’s the actual target, his plan for reconciliation turns to one of protection—whether she wants his help or not. What he wants is answers, especially about this online game she plays. Is it a harmless pastime as she says? Or is she using it to cover something up? As a faceless predator destroys the things that matter to her, Jeremy knows he’s running out of time before she loses the one thing that matters most—her real life. 

Katy Lee writes higher-purpose stories in high-speed worlds. As an inspirational author, speaker, home-schooling mom, and children’s ministry director, she has dedicated her life to sharing tales of love, from the greatest love story ever told to those sweet romantic stories of falling in love. Her fresh and unique voice brings a fast-paced and modern feel to her romances that are sure to resonate with readers long after the last page. Her debut novel Real Virtue is a finalist in many writing contests, and took second place in the 2011 Georgia Maggie Award of Excellence. Katy lives in New England with her husband, three children, and two cats.










Thanks for joining me today, Katy, and much success on your book Real Virtue


Tuesday, May 1, 2012

The New England Conference (NEC)

     This weekend I attended the NEC with many of my CTRWA pals. We had a blast. The New England Conference (NEC) put on by NERWA was fun, insightful and a great networking opportunity. To say we all had fun would be an understatement.
     One of our fellow CTRWA members was the keynote speaker. As usual Kristan Higgins captivated the audience with her grace and humor. We all left breakfast with the same good feeling we enjoy after reading one of Kristan's books.

     Later in the day, I atttended a workshop that Kristan hosted with Michael Hauge. Michael took one of Kristan's books and showed us how it fit into his six stages of a story. It's great when you read a book, but it is even better when you can see how it applies to real writing. Thank you Kristan and Michael.

     At lunchtime, the keynote speaker was Marie Force a mulitpublished author. Marie shared her numbers both as a traditional published author and now a self-published author. It was an education to say the least. Marie presented this informational speech with humor and knowledge. Later on, I took Marie's workshop and enjoyed it.

     In between agent appointments, I took two more workshops. The knowledge received from author Annette Blair and author Susan Eagan was expectional. Annette's workshop on Storyboarding and the valuable templates she handed out will be used by me for many years to come. Susan Eagan's workhop on How to Plan the Perfect Crime belew me away, as did her handouts. Susan's background as a prosecutor for the federal government showed in both her presentation and knowledge of her subject.

     This was my first time attending the NEC and I would recommend that every writer puts it on their calendar to attend.

     Oh, and I got an offer to submit by an agent! WooHoo!

A special thanks to the NERWA Chapter, well done.

Marian