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About Me
I am a romance writer. That's not easy to say. Most people have preconceived notions about romances, and the people who write them. Let me tell you! Writing isn't for sissies. I got my first rejection in April 2004. That makes me a professional. In what other field are you considered a "professional" when you don't get called back for a second interview?
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Upcoming Releases
His and Hers Dalmatians
Moonlit Romance April 2008
My Favorite Blogs and Websites
Bronwyn Parry, Author & Golden Heart Winner!
Crystal Jordan, Author
Kate Rothwell, Author
Laura Hamby, Author
Tori Scott, Author
Nell Dixon, Author
Denise Patrick, Author
Valerie Parv, Australia's Queen of Romance
Joanna Sandsmark, Dog and Kitty Author!!!
Elisa Adams, Author
Sharon Cullen, Author
Meg Allison, Author
Michelle Styles, Author
Julie Cohen, Author
Becca, Writer and People Watcher
Sally Lawton, Playwright & Author
Ainsley MacQueen, Author
Jennie Adams, Author
Cindy K Green, Author
Bronwyn Storm, Doggy Author!!!
Works in Progress
Winter Miracles
The Husband Checklist
Resurrection
Professor Kennedy's Ghost
Everyday Hero
The Baby Contract
Almost On My Own
The Stone City
Daddy's Little Girls
Skin Deep
The Dog Next Door
Previous Posts
New job, new attitude, new WIP
Finished at last!
Out of print, but not out of circulation!
Grace Tyler: Why I love animals
What I've Learned
Precious little angel
Kissed any frogs lately?
A great read!
Big news! My paperback is now available directly ...
What a flattering review!
Archives
April 2006
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January 2008
February 2008
March 2008
April 2008
May 2008
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August 2008
March 2009
April 2009
August 2009
Credits
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Out of print, but not out of circulation!
My publisher has closed its doors. I'm sorry to say that on top of the rest of life, that news was just too much for me--the discouragement was of epic proportions.
So you can't buy my book right now. I'm looking into ways to put it up for sale myself, but for now, disregard my banner.
So my book is out of print. I'm not!!!
New books in progress and lots of good stuff in "real" life--as if I have one!
Watch for a post on voice in the upcoming days.
For now, I think this excerpt from Dalmatians shows my voice perfectly.
EXCERPT:
A breeze lifted Hayden’s hair as he tossed the Frisbee to Ricky again. The dog caught it with ease, despite the fact that they hadn’t played for the past few weeks due to Hayden’s business trips. Board rooms and dinner meetings couldn’t compare to Saturday afternoon at the park, the sun warm on the back of his neck. He’d left his shoes beneath a nearby tree while he enjoyed the cool crush of the bright spring grass beneath his bare feet.
Ricky brought him the plastic disc and dropped it before standing on his hind legs and slapping his paws on his owner’s chest. Hayden put his arms around the dog and petted him vigorously, eliciting a sharp bark and a kiss from Ricky. Laughing, Hayden tumbled the Dalmatian to the ground and wrestled him until he collapsed. The dog flopped down next to him and treated his owner to a wide smile, sporting a mouthful of teeth and wagging his tail ferociously. The first time he’d seen a Dal smile, Hayden was put off by the bared teeth. But the breeder had explained it was a show of affection and how to tell whether the dog was angry or happy. Ricky was definitely happy today.
Hayden hadn’t seen that smile very often since leaving Callie’s.
He covered his eyes with his bare forearm and inhaled deeply of the smell of sun and spring grass. Gradually the tension he’d been harboring for an entire month ebbed. His latest deal had been grueling, and all the while he worked on it, he’d battled his anticipation of a reunion with Callie. He hadn’t expected the wedding to be so peaceful, he thought, twisting up the corners of his mouth.
Ricky flopped his head and front paws onto Hayden’s chest, and the man and his dog lay still on the ground. Ricky’s muffled snuffing and throaty grunts punctuated the sound of other people enjoying the weather and the park environs. When he really concentrated, Hayden could tune all of it out, even the Dal’s grumbling and wiggling against his rib cage, and just listen to the music of the birds overhead in the old-growth trees.
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