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Not Your Average Interview

1 Feb

Here celebrating the release of her debut YA book, My Dad’s a Paranormal investigator: Seeking Shapeshifters, is Rebekah L Purdy.

Now, I say this isn’t your average interview because not only is Rebekah one of my favorite authors, she’s also my sister.

So Bec, first off, let me say I loved My Dad’s a Paranormal Investigator and can’t wait for the fan mail (e-mails) to start pouring in. What would you say was the driving force behind this story?

RLP: Can it be my husband? (lol) Really, he’s the one who inspired me to write the dad in the book. Every year he (my hubby) arranges trips and nights out in search of Big Foot, ghosts, and hauntings. As something fun for the family. Plus, I’m a HUGE fan of the shows Ghost Hunters and Destination Truth.

~How long did it take for you to write My Dad’s?

RLP: Probably 3 months. (I fast tracked it during the mentor program, hosted by Romance Diva’s–an on-line romance writers group I belong to.) 

~And how long from the time of completion to publication?

RLP: This book sat on the shelf for some time, so almost two years.

~What inspired you to begin writing?

RLP: I’ve always loved reading, which branched into writing. But I’d have to say my fourth grade teacher Mr. McGrath was the person who introduced me to books, where I fell in love with the stories and wanted to write my own.

~What’s your favorite part of the writing process?

RLP: I like it all. But probably coming up with a new idea and the excitement of creating new characters–and stalking my character look-a-likes on IMBD (Internet Movie Data Base–at least I think that’s what it means) And yes, Taylor Lautner’s available to play the character part in my next book.

~(lol) If he can’t maybe Ian Somerhalder can.

RLP: No, I’m saving him for myself because he’s spicy like a meatball. (She says in an italian accent)

~I’m allowed to say you’re a dork because we’re sisters, right?! Anyway, is there anything you must have when you’re writing?

RLP: A damn good playlist, lots of water, chocolate, my dog on the back of the chair, a notebook-for character sketches, IMBD-again to stalk my “characters”, and a theasuarus . Oh, and a computer.

~Yeah, a computer helps. (lol) Next is a question I know you’ll enjoy. Does your love of Star Wars influence you as an author?

RLP: Are you kidding me, I have the force in my blood. I am one with Yoda, ye-es. Seriously though, I think Star Wars is the first thing to help me connect with the whole good-vs-evil vibe. My crush on Luke Skywalker aside, I believe Star Wars embodies everything you’d look for in a good story. Because it has the light and dark sides, romance, action…

~What is one bit of advice you’d like to impart to a beginning writer?

RLP: Don’t eat yellow snow. (ha!) Not don’t put that…

~It’s already there.

RLP: Let’s see, one bit of advice. Don’t quit writing. Even when you think a story may not go anywhere. Basically, every story you write is a stepping stone and helps you to improve your craft.

~From one writer to another that is excellent advice. Now, I know you’ve been writing seriously for 7 years, what are some things you think have helped you improve your craft?

RLP: Anytime I finish one book I immediatley begin working on the next. I also have a fab crit group, which includes my darling, beautiful sister. *wink*wink* Also, I think not taking rejection too personal helps.

~Speaking of the dreaded “R”, any thoughts on dealing with agent/publisher rejection?

RLP: Again, don’t take it personal. And make sure EVERYTHING is ready to go before you send it. As in, edit your work and/or have someone else critique or read it.

~Great advice. And one final question, what’s next?

RLP: I’m working on a story now and awaiting a contract on book I submitted last fall.

~Be sure to let me know when your next contract comes rolling in. (I know you will).

To find out more about Rebekah click HERE and enter for a chance to win her YA Paranormal Romance, My Dad’s a Paranormal Investigator: Seeking Shapeshifters.

Congratulations again Bec, I look forwad to celebrating many more releases with you!

(Read the blurb for My Dad’s below)

My Dad’s a Paranormal Investigator: Seeking Shapeshifters

Sixteen year old Ima Berry (pronounced I’m a) leads anything but a normal life. For starters, the ridiculous name her eccentric dad gave her is always the opening for a good joke. Not to mention the fact he makes his living as a supernatural investigator, which has them moving around every few months. It’s hard to hang out with new friends when she spends all her time trying to prove the existence of Bigfoot, ghosts, fairies and any other number of paranormal creatures. Unfortunately, the cases always end in disaster. That is until now.

On a whim, Ima’s father decides to move them to Point Hope, Alaska. Here, he plans to investigate the possibility of shifters amongst the Inuit tribes. Ima isn’t thrilled with the move, until she meets an Inuit guy named Carsen. Not only is he hot, but he’s also a star basketball player, and he’s interested in her. Too bad his best friend, Talon, doesn’t like her and takes every opportunity he can to discourage the relationship. Ima has no idea what she’s done to make him mad, but there’s no denying the strange connection between them.

As things grow more serious with Carsen, Ima uncovers a secret about him and some of the residents of Point Hope. A secret that will force her to choose between her father’s already dwindling career and her new found love. And with the knowledge of this secret comes danger…a danger that could cost them their lives.

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BIG NEWS: The Replacement and Rules of Attraction Blog Tours!

22 Dec

https://i1.wp.com/i161.photobucket.com/albums/t231/chosenbuffy100/TheReplacementblogtoursidebar.jpg https://i0.wp.com/i161.photobucket.com/albums/t231/chosenbuffy100/RulesofAttractionblogtoursidebar.jpg

Two Fabulous Authors Doing UK Blog Tours.

And since they’re on line tours, we can all play!! Thanks to Jenny over at  Wondrous Reads, for this Fab info!! She says to check out all the details on the banners and join in! (banners made by the talented Kat at S&S!)

I adore both of these authors. Simone Elkeles who I author crush…BIG TIME! And Brenna Yovanoff, who was absolutely lovely participating on a YA panel at Romance Divas! So excited for this event arranged by Simon & Schuster Children’s UK (@simonkids_UK on Twitter).

Tell me, will you be available to play on any of these dates?

Before you go click over to read the most recent December ‘SHORT REVIEW’.

YAFF Muse: Every Opportunity

15 Dec

Welcome again to YAFF Muse: blog rounds. The ladies of YA Fiction Fanatics have come together for YAFF Muse. To have a little fun, explore different styles of writing and to give you some kick-butt shorts to read.  Enjoy!

Foggy sunlight by walyir

 

Every Opportunity

by: Rachel Marie Pratt

“Mackenzie, get up.” Trae nudged me in the leg with the tip of his steel toed boot.  A solid reminder, last night hadn’t gone at all how I’d planned.  On my way down to Peterson’s barn, I played over and over in my mind how perfect we would be together. But reality was nothing like I imagined. Laying on a haystack opposite him for five-long-hours, listening to the torrential rains pummel the sides of the barn, the trees splintering as the wind wrestled the branches to the ground. I didn’t get a bit of sleep.

Through squinty eyelids I peeked up at him and stretched as if I was just waking. Lord, he was beautiful in the morning. Even in torn jeans and a filthy shirt, he looked good. Of course, it helped that under his dirty clothes were the lean muscles of a bull rider. I pushed from the scratchy straw to stand. Pieces of last night’s bedding poked my hands as I combed my hair with my fingers.

“I’m sorry about coming here. It’s just I thought—”

“I know what you were thinking, Mac.” His head shook and he walked toward the barn door.

Of course he knew, I didn’t exactly leave much to his imagination coming there wearing nothing but high heels and a trench coat.

Slowly, I crossed the barn to stand beside him. The minutes past while I mustered up the nerve to whisper, “The truth is I like you. A lot.”

“I like you too.” He continued to stare straight ahead.

“Yeah.” I lowered my voice, pulling the trench closer. “Just not enough to be with me.”

“Christ. You’re oblivious, you know that?”

My chest tightened at the frustration in his voice. He really must hate me. The thought turned my stomach sour. What was I thinking coming here? We’d been friends for as long as my dad stabled our horses at Peterson Farms. From day one, I talked to Trae without feeling self conscience. At least until the day I realized I wanted him more than anything else in the world.

Tears burned my eyes.

“I’d better go.” I went to move around him.

The shock of his hand sieving my arm, halting my retreat, was nothing compared to his mouth suddenly capturing mine. Like an electric current coursed through me, my body tingled. His lips crushed mine with feverish demand. I ran my hands up the front of his shirt, bringing them to rest at the nape of his neck. When I tugged him closer, deepening our kiss. He groaned and pulled back.

“What?” I asked, breathless.

His hesitation stirred my fear. “Mac, last night…I wanted you. I still want you. But not like this. Not here. Don’t you see?”

He waved his hands through the air at our surroundings, at him and me.

“See what?”

“I’m nineteen.” He began to pace. “I muck out stables for a living. Dammit. You’re not even seventeen.”

“I will be in a week.”

“You’re dad talks about you and Harvard.” His pacing stopped and he turned to face me. “Harvard, Mac. Not community college or working in a factory.”

“So you can’t like me because of some college?”

“That’s not it at all. I love you enough not to get in the way.”

“Love?” The word hung there, a web of admissions spun between us. He loves me. I love him. “What if I don’t go—”

“No.” Trae bowed his head. When his chin lifted the pain in his eyes is unbearable. “Can’t you see I don’t want you to give up your dreams?”

“Then don’t push me away.”

His mouth parted, but no words came. For the longest time we watched one another. Neither of us moved. My mind was made up a long time ago. And by the way he looked at me I could see his was too. It looked as though it might come down to whoever was more determined, when the barn door burst open.

“Daddy?” I gasped. My gaze shifted to Trae then back to my father, who grabbed me by the forearm and yanked me outside.

In wake of the storm the sky hazed over with a thick fog, but it didn’t hide the anger that drew hard lines across Dad’s face. “You’ve got some explaining to do young lady.”

“But—”

He twisted around to Trae. “I’ll be talking to your boss.”

“Dad, please.” I begged as he rushed me to the car.

“You think I’ve given you every opportunity so you could blow it all on some cowboy and a romp in the hay?”

“We didn’t do anything.”

“You expect me to believe that boy didn’t take advantage of you?”

I stopped walking. Dad halted too.

“His name is Trae. And he didn’t take advantage of me.” Tears flowed warm on my checks. “I came here because I thought he might like me. But he didn’t want anything to do with me, except to say, we could be friends.”

Relief softened Dad’s features. “We’ve got a lot to talk about, Mac. You can’t go around offering yourself to every guy you think you like.”

I stayed quiet. It was better to let him believe that than to admit that I’d fallen for Trae years ago, and that he loved me too, especially if I wanted to save Trae’s job.

“Lucky for you that boy’s got morals.” He pointed at me.

Dad was right. Trae never once crossed the line. He wanted what was best for me and now, more than ever, I knew he was it.

I settled into the passenger seat then glanced at Trae in the side mirror. As the car pulled away, Trae disappeared into the fog. A smile tugged the corners of my mouth. We’d be together again. Just not today.

© 2010, December 15, rmg.

Thanks for coming by. Please be sure to drop by my fellow YAFFers blogs and don’t forget to leave a comment. This will be our last Muse until after the holidays! But make sure you check back after the first of the year for more YAFF MUSE!

Miranda Buchanan

Rebekah L. Purdy

Traci Kenworth

Vanessa Barger

NEW BLOG CHECKLIST:

14 Dec
  1. New Name
  2. New Header
  3. Sidebar w/links
  4. Pages in Order
  5. First Blog Post Complete…

Holy Shweet, I knew I was forgetting something.  Let’s see, what should we talk about? How about Santa? Yes, I believe in Santa for 2 reasons:

1. I have a  5 yr old

and

2. If anyone in our house says they don’t believe, they don’t get jack-crap.

So, yeah I believe. Though normally, I don’t mind if I don’t get anything under the tree, this year there are a few items on the wish list.

First off, I love Simone Elkeles and all of her books so far. Despite that I’ve taken to reading them bass ackwards. (Beginning with Perfect Chemistry and Rules of Attraction). I recently moved on to Leaving Paradise. And now I absolutely cannot wait to read Return to Paradise. I’m hooked. Hooked. HOOKED!!  So I’m hoping to work it out that Santa brings me Return to Paradise for Christmas.

The second, and much more costly item is a camera. One that isn’t fuzzy in each and every shot. I heart taking pics. (My current record is over 900 in a 2 week period) So yes, I would love to have a camera to feed that particular creative hunger. And I have to admit, it would be awesome to take some nice pics of the family on Christmas Day.

So what’s on your wish list?

(#5. First Blog Post )

YAFF Muse: Such a Thing as Perfect

29 Sep

Welcome again to YAFF Muse: blog rounds. The ladies of YA Fiction Fanatics have come together for YAFF Muse. To have a little fun, explore different styles of writing and to give you some kick-butt shorts to read.  Enjoy!

Photo Credit:keithcr at MorgueFile.com

Such a Thing as Perfect

By: R.M.Gilbert

“Welcome to Dairy Cone, what can I get you?” I asked Darcy Flick, knowing full well what she wanted.

“Don’t screw with me, you know I’m here to see Ryan,” she said. The redhead chomped her gum like a cow and leaned over the counter. “Ryan Bradley!”

“He’s in the cooler.” I scowled.

“Don’t tell me you’re keeping tabs on my boyfriend?”

“No,” I said, but if I was honest I would have said yes and been done with it. Of course, I secretly adored Ryan. What girl wouldn’t? Heck, I’d bet my life that some of the guys at school crushed on him too.

Ryan was that guy. The one who’s nice to everyone: geeks, stoners, jocks, rich, poor, it didn’t matter. And never—not even once—had I heard a single person say a bad word about him. Considering I have lived in Vanilla Beach since birth, that was saying something. Yep, Ryan Bradley was the greatest guy I knew.

“Hey, Brainfart.” Darcy waved her hand in front of my face. “I asked for an orange float.”

Darcy, on the other hand was a high class bitch. And the daughter of a Senator who bought a summer home on the beach this past year. It seemed to me, she thought it was her God given right to trample on those she deemed ‘beneath her’. Which was pretty much everyone.

Moving to make her float, I spotted Ryan knelt down in the back, helping Mrs. Dairy Cone herself pick up a stack of napkins off the floor. The old woman must have knocked them from the shelf again. That made three times this week.

I grabbed a foam cup and scooped ice cream into it, thinking maybe her eyes were getting worse. Her current glasses magnified her pupils to the size of Ping-Pong balls, and I wondered if there was prescription strong enough to help. I shook my head, sad that I couldn’t do anything more for her, and finished filling the cup with ice cream, then moved toward the soda fountain.

“Justice,” Ryan said, coming from the back.

“Yeah?” I tried to focus on the pop machine and ignore the fact that he smelled like ocean salt. But he stood so close it was impossible to do anything but look at him.

“Mrs. Moore wants to meet with us after our shift today.” He smiled, and as it always did it reflected in his eyes.

My breath caught in my throat for a second before I nodded and handed him Darcy’s order. “Your girlfriend’s here.”

His and my hands roped around the orange float, sending a sensation of tingles surging over me like the waters wake and I trembled. His gaze locked on mine, the corners of his mouth faltered to uphold his smile.

“So-sorry.” I released the cup and stepped back.

“You’re fine.”

Something changed in his eyes as he moved past. Leaving me to wonder if in this one instant I gave myself away? For the longest time I had managed to hide how I felt. Since the second grade, it had been my greatest secret and now…

A customer stepped to the counter and rang the service bell. I cleared the knot from my throat, apologized for being distracted, and asked for his order. The entire time my attention divided between the man’s indecision and Ryan and Darcy’s conversation.

“But you said you’d go,” Darcy whined. “We’re leaving for Washington tomorrow. It’s my last night at the beach.”

“I can’t, Mrs. Moore asked to meet with me after we close,” Ryan explained.

“Can’t Justine fill in for you, for just a little while?”

As sure as I was standing there, Ryan’s eyes burned into me, but I stared straight ahead. He didn’t need to know I was eavesdropping.

“Her name is Justice,” he muttered. “And I’m not going to ask her to cover for me on the busiest night of the season. Everyone’s getting in ‘one last night’ before they leave, Darcy.”

“Fine.” She pouted some more, but then her voice turned sweet. “Meet me later? At Daddy’s. A bunch of us are throwing together a bonfire on the beach after the sun sets. You’ll be done by then, won’t you?”

“Sure.”

After encouraging Ryan to bring his friends as well, Darcy flounced off.

Heavy on my chest were the feelings I fought to ignore, and I held back my foolish tears. What else had I expected? This was Ryan Bradley.

By the time our shift ended and clean up finished, Mrs. Moore had called twice to remind us of our meeting.

“You want to ride over together?” Ryan asked, nearing his car.

“If you don’t mind,” I said. “Otherwise I’ll have to walk and I don’t want you to have to wait for me.”

Ryan didn’t say anything, he rounded the side of the car to open the passenger door.

“Thanks.” I slid into the seat. For a second, it sounded as though he’d said, “my pleasure”, but I was confident my ears played tricks on me.

Riding in silence, I watched Vanilla Beach stretch out beside us. The water glistened under the last moments of sun as though it wanted to suck up as much of its beauty as possible before nightfall. And the fragrant scent of ocean spilled through the car windows. I closed my eyes to enjoy every second of its aroma.

“We’re here.” Ryan slowed the car to a stop in front of a modest beach house. Smaller than those surrounding it, but still well kept.

Not giving him a second chance to prove his chivalry, I pushed out of the vehicle.

“Come in, come in, come in,” Mrs. Moore prompted us inside. Then, with the door closed behind her, she turned to Ryan. “Have you asked her yet?”

“Not yet.” He smiled, taking the older woman by the hands and leading her to sit down.

“Asked me what?”

“She wants you and me to take over the Dairy Cone.” Ryan said.

“Us? Why?”

“Because you belong there, together,” said a straight faced Mrs. Moore.

One glance at Ryan and I knew I couldn’t survive another summer with him. Thoughts of him consumed me and if I wanted to maintain my sanity I’d have to keep my distance as much as possible.

I folded my hands and kept my voice soft. “I can’t Mrs. Moore. I’m sorry.”

“And why not, my dear?” She reached for me with one hand and Ryan with another. “This is a union I’ve been planning since you both came to work with me years ago.”

If only there was such a union to be made.

“I appreciate that, truly I do, but—” Tears pressed against the rim of my eyes and I squeezed her hand, wishing with all my heart she could read my mind and know what she asked for was impossible.

“Oh, you poor girl,” Mrs. Moore tugged my hand closer and placed it in Ryan’s. “You two are more alike than you know.”

The warmth of him spread throughout my body. No matter how much I told myself to pull away, I drew closer.

“I’ll say what should have been said years ago,” Mrs. Moore spoke quietly, “You’re perfect.”

“He is.”  “She is.” We whispered simultaneously.

“What?” I asked, looking at him confused.

All the color floods from his face as we stepped nearer to each other. “I’ve always thought you were perfect Justice, ever since I met you in the second grade.”

He leaned in and at moment his mouth lingered over mine, I knew Ryan Bradley was the greatest guy, and he was mine.

© 2010, September 28, rmg.

This weeks muse was inspired by a number of things: first loves, mean girls, boys who don’t disappoint. But really it’s about love and how sometimes we don’t realize when someone right under our noses loves us so deeply, it hurts. This was probably my favorite YAFF Muse to write, I hope you enjoyed it.

Thanks for coming by. Please be sure to drop by my fellow YAFFers blogs and don’t forget to leave a comment.

Jennifer Fischetto-Nice Girls, Bad Guys, Grave Drama

Rebekah L. Purdy

Traci Kenworth

Vanessa Barger

YAFF Muse: Sunkiss

25 Aug

Welcome again to YAFF Muse: blog rounds. The ladies of YA Fiction Fanatics have come together for YAFF Muse. To have a little fun, explore different styles of writing and to give you some kick-butt shorts to read.  Enjoy!

Photo title: Wooden Gate

Sunkiss

By: R.M.Gilbert

Seven hundred twenty-five days, I’ve been confined to the upper level of the white chalet. Suffocating, in my bedroom—my five-by-seven foot personal prison. I toss my book aside on the desk and watch as groups of kids pass by. School let out for the weekend, so I won’t see them until they walk by again on Monday.

I pick my book up for the second time and glance at the vampire donning the cover of my newest purchase. “At least you turn to dust in the sun,” I say. Not me, I break out in a rash and my throat closes in, choking off my air supply. Turning to dust and blowing away in the wind would be welcome, compared to this hell.

“Allergic to the sun,” I mutter and turn to the chapter where Tristan McGregor swears he’ll always love Juliet Rodea. When something tinks against my window sill and collides with the curtain.

A tiny pebble lands on the floor, near my feet. I stand, leaning forward to peek out the window. Below, a boy, about fifteen, stands there. From here he looks cute. Not pretty boy cute either, but scruffy. Like he’d stopped on his way home from work, instead of school like the rest of the kids. And for a second I think he’ll toss another stone, but he just stares up at my window until eventually he fists his hands in his jacket pockets and leaves. I don’t think I’ve ever seen him before. Not in all the days I’ve spent at this window, peering out beyond our gate. If only he could take me away from this place. If only he didn’t go away…

What am I saying? Mom would have a fit if she saw him here, which makes me glad she’s gone to the market.

With a sigh, I lift my book:

Tristan watched as sweet Juliet took her final breaths. He had promised he’d never take her as his own without her consent.

He whispered softly, “As your blood courses through the generations, I will find you. I promise my beautiful Juliet, as your children grow and their children after that, I’ll always remember it is your blood that courses through their veins.” He paused to kiss her cheek, tempted to take her blood and keep her forever. But instead he made his oath, unmarred by time or circumstance. “One day you will need me so that you may live. For this reason, I will stay with you until the end of time. I will follow your bloodline until you give me a sign that you are prepared to live a life at my side.”

Juliet drew her last breath.

Tristan leaned and spoke into her ear. “Place un caillou sur votre seuil.”

~~

I stare at the final words in the book. Of course they’re in French, which is Tristan’s native tongue. I flip to the very last pages, where thankfully the publisher has thought to add a French glossary, defining the forty or so phrases Tristan spoke in the book.

“Let’s see.” I flip through the pages, repeating “Place un caillou sur votre seuil,” over and over as I slide my finger down the page. When I spot the phrase, I trace my finger over to the translation. “Place a pebble on your sill,” I read.

Wait. What?

I glance at the pebble on the floor. Then turn to the final page of the story once again.

“One day you will need me so that you may live. For this reason, I will stay with you until the end of time. I will follow your bloodline until you give me sign that you are prepared to live a life at my side.”

Juliet drew her last breath.

Tristan leaned and spoke into her ear. “Place un caillou sur votre seuil.”

I close the book and pick the pebble up off the floor, grasping it tight in my palm.

©2010, August 25, rmg.

This weeks YAFF story was, in part, inspired by my daughter. I was going to write looking from the outside-vs-the inside, but she suggested going inside the gate…so I took it a step farther. The other bit of inspiration came from a program I saw a few years ago about people who have sun allergies. I remember being surprised that there was such a thing as being allergic to sunlight. And for one reason or another this program came to mind. (to learn more about sun allergies visit: MayoClinic.com)

Thanks for coming by. Please drop by my fellow YAFFers blogs and don’t forget to leave a comment.

R.L.Purdy

Traci Kenworth

Vanessa Barger

Out Numbered

12 Jun

I never knew how nice it was to have another girl in the house until I dropped my daughter off at the airport and came home to not 1, but 3 boys. Sure I’ve spent a couple days without her in the house. But she doesn’t come home from Disney until next Thursday.

(Searches for panic button).

Okay, so maybe I’m not exactly panicking, but I sure do miss her. We like to talk books and writing and music. I treasure our conversations and love that we share common interest. Especially with the teen years looming on the horizon. In some ways, I hope these common interests will narrow the gap when she gets into the TEENDOM. (Yes, this is a real place. It’s between: I Know Everything Because I’m Ten and Will You Fill Out My Collage Apps Because I’m So Busy And Tired Reality Check.)

On the other hand, I love that she’s experiencing something new. Quite frankly, we tend to visit museums, not theme parks. So this is a fun opportunity for her. And she’s called at least twice a day since she’s left. <– without prompting. Yay! And when she gets back we’ll have a blast making trips to the library.

Because I never get enough of hearing her say:

AND

We counted the days together until she left. And now I count the days until she comes home again.

Six days of car talk, video games, ball, wrestling…Don’t get me wrong, I can change oil in the vehicles with the best of them. I love the guys, but that doesn’t mean I want to be one of them. They’re even talking about the ‘man camp’. Save me!

Seriously, I hope she has a blast and comes back with lots of great stories to tell. Because, if there is one thing her and I love, it’s a great story.

Romantic Reasoning!

15 Feb

Valentines Day tends to bring out the romantic side in even the most rational prosaic person. (I prefer a little irrationality on Valentines Day).  While I fully understand flowers die, a box of chocolates is fattening, and an extra “I love you” comes just because its expected. I can’t help but rejoice in a day that celebrates that we love one another. After all, everyday should be a day of love and so few are.

Many days are spent with our real life blinders on. Homes to tend to, kids to care for, work, co-workers, long drives, bills, groceries, pets…the list goes on forever it seems like. In all of this, our focus on love-romance gets pushed to the way-side. Sure, we may share an occasional hug or other affection. We’ll remember an ‘I love you’ as we head out the door or before we go to bed. But  do we remind ourselves daily that those words mean something.

I think it would be wonderful if we worked to keep love alive everyday. And remember why we enjoy our romance books so much. One reason I like to write them so well: love is… (we each get to fill in this blank and writing allows me to fill in the blank several times over).

What is love to you? Who do you love and what do you love that they do?

Not Just Romance – Wednesday Writing Topic

27 Jan
How do you know what to write? Or for that matter what to read?

The average reader would be shocked by the number of genres (aka categories) authors can write under. We don’t just wake up one day and say, “I’m going to write romance.” Okay, so maybe we do. But as authors we are suppose to give our romance a name. For instance, I’ve recently finished a Young Adult Paranormal Romance (aka YA Para Romo). My current WIP (Work  in Progress), is a Post WWII Novel, and is considered a Mainstream Romance. As well as a 2nd WIP. It’s a  YA Fantasy Romance.

But there are many, many, more: Romantic Comedy, Contemporary Romance, Sci-Fi Romance, Historical Romance, Inspirational Romance and Romantic suspense. Gasp, Erotica. (And any combination of these) 😉 Of course there are others I’ve missed.But I’m sure you’re catching my drift.

So how do we decide what we write?

For many of us, we are geared to write what we read. And for those of us who’ll devour any book no matter what the genre, its simply what we’re passionate about.

I love romance in almost any genre, though I have my preferences when it comes to which genres I like best. So I write my passion, Romance. And I choose the genres I write because they are what I like to read with the exception of Romantic Comedy. I avoid writing Romo Coms like the plague. You can’t force funny, if you know what I mean.

So if you’re a reader, what do you like to read the most, and why?

If you’re an author, what is your passion and what genres do you prefer?

After you comment click on here for Wikipedia Free Encylopedia-Romance Novel to read more about my passion and where/how it originated.

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