 Memorial Day is a day to remember thos who gave their lives for our country. The men and women who fought bravely for freedom. I've been lucky to have many wonderful family members who have served our country. My great grandfather was in World War One. He came home safely and came into my fifth grade class to speak about the war. My grandfather was undergoing his physical when he found out that two of his brothers had just died in World War Two. So the military let him go home. They didn't want our family to give any more lives. My father was in the National Guard and while he never served in a war, he was very proud of the work he did. Currently my brother-in-law is serving in the Navy. He served in Iraq and used to write emails to me about his time over there and even volunteered to send my class some scorpions! He and my sister as well as their children have been in Japan for the last three years and are coming back to the United States. Our family has been a part of protecting our country and freedom but in a small way. On Memorial Day, I want to remember those men and women who didn't come back or who came back changed in a monumental way. They gave their everything so that we could have all that we have. Thank you!
Today fellow Rebel author Suzzanna C. Ryan stops by to sit in my interrogation... um... interview...chair. I'm so happy to have her here because she is an amazing author and inspiration to me.  Hello and Welcome ! Please tell us a little about
yourself.
Hi Melissa, my name is
Suzzana C Ryan.
What song best fits your life? And
Why?
Somewhere Over the
Rainbow
If you were a cartoon character who would you be and
why?
Sponge Bob
If you had to live without your car or your computer, which would you choose?
My Car…
Do you have any funny stories from growing up that you can share?
Mmm…the Easter Bunny…deathly afraid of him…Now come one in order to deleiver all those damn eggs that rabbit had to be pretty big. I had nightmares…about the 50 foot Bunny. Finally my mother set me straight. Then I demanded all my chocolate…for over 5 years.
What’s your favorite thing to do to relax?
Gamble…drink…smoke….sex…not really…writing…is my solace
If you had to be one of your characters, which would you be and why?
Tracey Reagan, from my new release, A love Dipped in Blood…a half-breed with a drop dead gorgeous sex machine Vampire mate. (half-breed…two steps from transition, from being a full vampire. Still considered human, with the ability to live with a vampire mate for eons)
Your books have a wide range of genres, do they have any common themes?
I am a true erotic romance writer. Whether it be m/f m/m or f/f or any combination there will
always be an element of romance behind my stories. Love is such a wonderful thing, and I enjoy that HEA ending.
Did you always want to be an author?
Yes, or an archiologist
What is your favorite part about being an author? What is your least favorite?
The thrill of cover art and seeing my work in print…editing…
What has been your favorite part about getting published?
Realizing a dream, crying every time I see my name on a cover. Reading my own work and realizing wow I really wrote that.
Where do you write? Do you need anything to help you get in the mood for writing?
I have a guest room that we’ve set up as an office. It’s quiet and country French décor and I have an array of music…I love Gothic Rock, Xandria, Within temptation, Nightwish…then certain love songs from the Eagles, Led Zeppelin…I think u can see I love music.
Tell us about your latest release: (blurb, excerpt, cover)
Black Roses:
Blurb:
Chance Harris is a powerful Grand Witch. Her obsession is one gorgeous vampire named Eric Clayton. She’s loved the vampire forever.
It’s time for Chance to take a mate, time for her to give up her promiscuity and settle down. She only sees one man, one vampire, that will suit her needs. But Eric Clayton can’t be caught that easily. He can only see the witch whose claim to fame is a very tight female anatomy. He can only see a woman with a tainted reputation.
One flower grows that can enchant a witch, the black rose. Will Chance ever see love and black roses in her future?
Their hearts will clash and ignite. A push and pull of emotions will ensue, ending in a love that will transcend time and last an eternity.
Here’s a very sexy excerpt from Black Roses:
I ran my body down his and kissed every inch of him. I got to his six packed abs then his dick. He was beautiful, thick and long, the head dark pink and perfectly shaped. The veins were engorged and the large vein running along the back beckoned my tongue. When I put him in my mouth, his girth stretched me wide, my teeth grazed his shaft. I sucked him in and let my tongue caress him then licked and sucked his cock using my saliva ridden hands to pump him. It was all so sexual and carnal, the tip of his cock secreting drops of semen as he was nearing his orgasm. I licked the head, tasting him, and my body convulsed, he was mine and now I would show him just how much he belonged to me. I ceased my pressure at the base of his dick and sucked him hard. It was my name he yelled out as he came. It was me he vowed his love for, and it was me who would love him for eternity.
Visit me http://www.suzzanacryanromanceauthor.blogspot.comavailable:
Barnes and Noble
Amazon
Bookstrand
http://www.allromanceebooks.com
How did you decide on your story plot?
The title Black Roses….then just began to write…that’s how it happens…I can’t even tell when the sceme is going to shift. Or a character is going to die.
How did you choose your characters names and location for your story?
Chance Harris and Eric Clayton? The names come…I guess writers call it muses…
Do you have a favorite scene? Why?
Yes...this Vampire’s a bit kinky….likes doing things in public…and he fingers Chance under the restaurant table…makes her come, call it his appetizer…
Do you have a character that you identify with?
I do believe there is a part of me in every character I write about. Though, my characters are not me. It’s fun to let’s say add the little tidbit of info that the main character doesn’t like Pineapple ( I don’t like Pinapple.)
Let our readers know how they can get a hold of you…
http:///www.suzzanacryanromanceauthor.comhttp://www.suzzanacryan.blogspot.comface Book, twitter,
 Red Paint in the hair?
Blue paint on the jeans?
Sand in the shoes?
Peanut butter on your favorite shirt?
White socks look brown?
Sleeves or shirts a little bit damp?
Well, take heart because……………..
Your child probably……….
Worked with a friend
Solved a problem
Created a masterpiece
Negotiated a difference
Learned a new skill
Had a great time
Developed new language
Your child probably didn't………..
Feel lonely
Become bored
Do repetitive tasks that are too babyish
Do worksheet tasks that are too easy
Do sit down work that is discouraging
You Probably………………..
Paid good money for those clothes
Will have trouble getting the red paint out
Are concerned that your child's teacher isn't really paying attention to your child-
The Teacher probably……………………
Was aware of your child's needs and interests
Spent time planning a challenging activity for the children
Encouraged the children to try new things
Was worried that you might be concerned
But try to remember, if you will…………
What your favorite activity was when you were four years old? Was it outdoor play with water, mud, dress-up clothes? Young children really only learn when they are actively involved in play, not when someone is talking to them. There is a big difference between "Messy" and "lack of care".
Keep in mind, that most certainly the teacher made sure that your child was fed, warm, took a nap, washed hands after toileting, and before eating--and planned messy, fun things to do, because she knows, that's how young children learn!
Send your child to school in clothes that can get dirty. Keep extra clothes at school for when your child gets wet or really messy. If you need to take your child out somewhere after school, bring your "good" clothes and allow time to change when you pick up.
And finally…..remain calm, remembering that in a few years, teen-agers will use shampoo, mirrors and all of the clean towels--but for now, we’ll just give them time to be kids!
 Can a summer fling last a lifetime? Stacey
Wilder escapes to the beach for a much needed vacation and meets a woman who tempts her passion. But Stacey hid her desires growing up because small town Catholic girls don’t fall in love with other women.
Mandy Kenzie is a Southern girl who also dealt with discrimination growing up over her choice of lovers.
When she meets Stacey, sparks fly and passion ignites. But will their beach fling become a forever match or just a vacation affair?
Can Stacey and Mandy make their long distance
relationship work? Or will they let the prejudices of their upbringing ruin their chance at happiness?
Buy at:http://store.secretcravingspublishing.com/index.php?main_page=book_info&cPath=4&products_id=329&zenid=1bd488c7b577318ffc44e5ec95174c1f
Today my guest is author Annette Bower who has graciously stopped by to share one of her favorite school memories. I love that her memory is more about life than just the lessons in school. Annette will also award a $25 GC to All Romance eBooks to one randomly drawn commenter, so be sure to follow her other blog stops for more chances to win! Tour information is found here: http://goddessfishpromotions.blogspot.com/2012/04/virtual-name-before-masses-tour-moving.html Good morning Melissa. Thank you for hosting me today. My memories that often come to the forefront when I think of school are not about reading, writing or arithmetic but about life.
My family moved around our home city, Regina, Saskatchewan. I attended four elementary schools (one school twice) and two high schools, all of them parochial.
While in elementary school, I had learned a song during a school holiday that went something like this: “Oh you can’t get to heaven in an old Ford car cause an old Ford car won’t get you that far, I ain’t gonna grieve my Lord no more, I ain’t gonna grieve my Lord no more. Etc.” It went on for several verses and the last verse was: “Oh you can’t get to heaven in a rocking chair cause the Lord don’t want no lazy folks there, I ain’t gonna grieve my Lord no more.” Etc.
When I returned to school, I corralled a few select friends into the corner of the school grounds and sang this song to them because I thought it would be considered naughty, or sinful, or wrong but I sang it anyway. I don’t recall who taught me the song but I had learned it well because these words remain in my memory as well as the feelings of possible danger for challenging what I assumed would be considered contrary to our teachings.
Perhaps this is why Anna in chapter 1 of Moving On-A Prairie Romance can pick up and move to a new community. It was a risk, but not too risky but just enough to force her to change her world and question some of the expert advice she had encountered in her recent past.
“[Anna’s] mother had suggested a plane ticket from Toronto and rental car, a long weekend
vacation, check things out instead of rushing headlong into the unknown. But Anna couldn’t. She drove for four days. It was now or never. She turned off the engine, opened the door and pushed one sensibly soled foot over the edge and onto the stone path that led to the house.
The windows were dirty and the exterior paint cracked and flaked. This was just the place she needed if as they say, your environment reflects your state of mind. Maybe in this place they would get off her back.”
When I was in grade five, I was a member of a group of students who were not chosen for the baseball team. My family owned a bat and soft ball so I begged to take them to school. We leftovers made up our own team, scrounged a piece of playground, and played scrub. Our diamond must have been shorter. I remember, during one of our recess games, one of our team hit a line drive and one of the players was struck by the ball and her eyeglasses were broken. I was held responsible because I had provided the bat and ball. The principal wanted my family to pay for the glasses. We didn’t have that kind of money. I can’t
remember what happened. I know my father visited the school. Nevertheless, our baseball team was disbanded.
I like exploring what it feels like to be on the outside. This is what Nick experiences in Chapter 4 of Moving On-A Prairie Romance.
“Nick remained hidden. He wouldn’t interrupt but if they needed help, he’d be there. He welcomed Herman’s relaxed face flushed with life and Anna’s white limbs flailing against
black earth were a vision. Finally, she lay back and enjoyed her prone position. Her legs and arms splayed as if she were about to play one of the oldest games and create a winged snow or rather dust angel. His heart lurched. He longed to join them, but he knew that as soon as he emerged from the trees, everything would change. He felt the twinges of being an outsider, there to protect and observe, but in many ways powerless to do much else except provide hope like he does in his armed forces duties.”
I remember in Grade 7 a handsome substitute teacher taught us the proper technique to eat soup without dribbling. I still use this method today. In chapter 5 of Moving On-A Prairie Romance Nick introduces Anna to line dancing.
“Anna was no stranger to music but she was a stranger to the dance steps. However, the stomps, kicks and grapevines became less complicated with each repetition. She liked moving to the music. She watched the red boots and skirt of the woman in front of her. She saw the added swing of her hips and suggestive dips of her shoulder. Anna added these movements. When she glanced at Nick’s face, he smiled. She smiled back and tried harder to keep up with the line. During the next set, they held onto each other and swung in unison.”
Thank you, Melissa for asking me to share memories of my school years. I had not evaluated how these early interactions with real life influence my writing. As a writer I approach a story from who I have become by the experiences life has given me.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  Moving On: A Prairie Romance
by Annette Bower
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
BLURB:
Anna is a mysterious woman that has just moved to Regina Beach. The residents of the small town know everyone’s business and they are very interested in discovering Anna’s secrets. Nick was a Sergeant in the Canadian Army, doing active duty until a horrific accident sent him home to recover. He helps Anna feel safe and comfortable in her new environment, just as he has always done for his men in strange, dangerous places. Meanwhile, he focuses on preparing for his future
physical endurance test to prove that he is capable of returning to active duty.
Anna doesn’t talk about her past, and Nick doesn’t talk about his future therefore she is shocked to discover that his greatest wish is to return to active duty. She won’t love a man who may die on the job again. Intellectually, she knows that all life cycles end, but emotionally, she doesn’t know if she has the strength to support Nick.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Excerpt:
[Nick] hopped out, hurried around to her door, opened it, grasped her hand, and pulled her to her feet. He gently pushed against the small of her spine, propelling her forward. His breath fanned the tight fluff on the back of her neck as they reached the steel double doors. He reached around her and opened the door to music. Country music.
He pulled her onto the dance floor into a fast waltz. Her feet automatically followed his measured steps. He felt the tension ease out of her body. She looked around. She even leaned her head back in response to a spin, exposing a wonderful slender white neck. He quelled an urge to lean forward and kiss the column down to her seductively exposed collar bones. He felt himself react, again. Maybe he was the beast that she spoke of. Keeping track of his left lower limb became a non-issue while he focused on another part of his anatomy or he’d embarrass himself in front of his neighbors. The music ended. He kept his hand firmly around her waist as he propelled her to the makeshift bar.
"Beer?”
“Yes.” She hesitated as if she was searching the jargon of a memory. “Draft?”
He handed her the dew-covered glass which she pushed into her lips. He clung to his bottle and tipped it evenly, watching her through half-closed eyes. She was an enigma. Pain and party. Her face had shown shadows of solemnity and joy of life.
He wanted to know her, but at the same time, not know her. Her pain both called to and repelled him.
 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Annette Bower lives and writes in Regina, SK Canada. She is an author of many short stories published in anthologies and magazines in Canada, the United States and the United Kingdom. She explores women in families, women in communities and women at the beginning and end of love and their quest for love.
She pursues the writing craft in workshops, conferences, Writing with Style, Banff Centre for the Arts, Victoria School of Writing, Sage Hill Writing Experience, the Surrey International Writing Conferences and the Romance Writing
of America Conferences.
When she isn’t writing she walks or bikes around the streets and parks in her neighborhood imagining complex worlds behind seemingly ordinary events.
Her first contemporary romance, Moving On A Prairie Romance is published by XoXo Publishing™ a division of Ninni Group Inc.
Website:http://www.annettebower.com/Blog: http://www.annettebower.com/blog
Facebook:http://www.facebook.com/#!/pages/Annette-Bower-XOXO-Publishing-Author/378438088839629Don't forget to leave a comment for a chance to win the $25 GC to All Romance eBooks to one randomly drawn commenter, so be sure to follow her other blog stops for more chances to win! Tour information is found here:
http://goddessfishpromotions.blogspot.com/2012/04/virtual-name-before-masses-tour-moving.html
I wanted to share with you a little about my life. But I wanted you to see my life through the camera's lens not through my words. My stories tell a little about my life but here are some never before seen photos!
This is me as a baby.
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This is our high school newspaper staff. I'm the one in the bottom left corner. I was one of the editors.
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This is my Dad and sisters, my son, and nieces and nephew at the cottage.
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This is my DH at Sleeping Bear Dunes. We love to camp and visit the State Parks.
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This is my home. I love the old style with the new amenities.
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This is the Captain. He watches over our family. :)
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I'm so proud of my kids. They are the best things I've ever done!
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They are great friends and siblings.
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This is Grissolm. I love my furbabies. We have two. They are both snugglers and love to give kisses!
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I love my babies so much that I got a tattoo of their prints on my foot. After all, they do walk all over me!
| These are just a few of the photos of my life. I hope they show you the person I am. I'd love to hear from you and see some of your photos! :)
I'm so excited today to have Desi Moon drop by to visit. Not only is she another Rebel Sister but she is quite the dog whisperer! Maybe she can help me with my little fur babies!  On March 17th, Rebel Ink Press took a leap of faith with my second novel, Accidental Intent. When I first sat down with AI, I had it in my head to write another contemporary romance much like my first, Summerland. It was going to have over the top characters, complex family dynamics, nosy friends and a smoking hot love interest for my
female lead. Well…I was sort of on the right track.
Lucy, my female lead, was a bit over the top. You see, Lucy had an opinion…ON EVERYTHING and frankly didn’t care who heard it. Her friends? I guess you could consider them nosy. The smoking hot love interest? Yep, Nicolai appeared in my head and I swooned before he spoke a word. Only one problem. This was intended to be a straight forward romance and I ended up with a body count.
So what kept me going? It was the dogs. I am a dog person by nature. Although I do love animals in general and share my home with three incredibly independent cats, it is the dogs I keep going back for to help and care for.
In Accidental Intent Lucy, a successful dog trainer found herself hanging out at a backwoods dog shelter. For her it was all about the dogs. It didn’t matter that there were people trying to kill her, but mess with her canines…well, let’s just say it wasn’t pretty to write.
But I digress, as I said, for me it was all about the dogs. Rufus, the laid back Bloodhound was a fiction of my imagination. But Baloo, the affectionate St. Bernard and Tippy the happy go lucky Terrier mix are real dogs that stole a piece of my heart over the ten years I spent working in shelters. Capturing their personalities on paper was like having them with me again and I fondly remember playing fetch with Tippy and giving Baloo belly rubs. I miss
them, but can relieve many happy memories when I reread certain passages of Accidental Intent.
Desi Moon
http://dbmoonauthor.blogspot.com
“Where over the top characters gather to create mayhem”
*****
Accidental Intent Blurb:
When drugs and murder invade sleepy Longmont, Colorado, Lucy Lafferty, resident dog trainer, finds her quiet existence turned inside out with her name added to a rising body count. And that wouldn't be good for her four-legged furry family or her prized designer shoe collection.
During the rising heat of summer, Lucy Lafferty reaches the conclusion that men aren't worth the effort, especially with an ex-sex partner who pushes to revive a relationship that never existed. But when she's thrown together on a murder investigation with Detective Nicolai Petrovski, the mercury rises to dangerous levels that have nothing to do with the season. Investigating a backwoods dog rescue unknowingly puts them both into dangerous territory and Lucy, despite all her bravado, can't help falling for the magnetic cop. *****
Desi (D.B.) Moon lives in Boulder, CO with her husband Eben, two kids and an ever growing menagerie.
She has two full length books out right now. A contemporary romance, Summerlandand a romantic suspense, Accidental Intent. Desi also has a short romantic comedy in the Tempting Cupid Anthology titled "My Humiliating Valentine" and in June will be a part of the Dad Plan Anthology with a romantic short titled "For the Love of Mac". In October Nowhere to
Run, an erotic horror novella, will be released in time for Halloween.
An animal activist and a Project Runway junkie, Desi is also an avid Muay Thai kickboxer and loves to bake decadent "plant based" desserts.
Thanks for stopping by Desi! There is nothing like pets to make your life better! :) I bet that they do the same to books! Maybe it isn't the dogs that need training... maybe it's me!
 My book Second Time's the Charm is up for Best Cover and Best First Chapter over at D. Renee's blog. This book is very special to me because it shows that even after a horrible divorce, love can be found again. I hope you will stop by and vote, show me some support and love! I really appreciate it!
Welcome Lila! Thank you for stopping by today to share with us a little bit of your behind the scenes. I've always been interested to hear about how you got into writing and the early beginnings of Rebel Ink Press. I can't wait to hear all about it! Hi everyone! I’m Lila Munro, procurer of realmantica, and I’d like to thank Melissa for hosting me today. Are you wondering what realmantica is yet? Well, hang on…we’ll get to that part, as it’s part of the journey Melissa asked me to write about today. My journey to writing and how I came to be a part of Rebel…
Circa 1972—Lila is three years old and sits in her little wooden rocker “reading” The Little Red Hen. Ha! For the younger in the crowd, there was no Hooked on Phonics back then, so reading at three would have been considered a simply unfathomable trick. And a trick is exactly what it was. :) Poor old granny had raked my mother’s last nerve therefore I was the dog and pony set up to put her in her place. It seemed Mom was sick of hearing about what a genius one of my much older cousins was and since I had this children’s book memorized verbatim, I was in on the “take that” revenge. As you can see, I loved books before I could spell. And that’s where my yearning to write began…
Circa 1980—Lila goes to sixth grade and takes creative writing. I still owe Mr. Trokey a signed copy of my first published work for he was the prophet that predicted my success was impending. I’m sorry Mr. Trokey, I didn’t know it’d come in the form of naughty romance. And, being a bit prophetic myself, I’ve not sent it not wishing to be the cause of your…distress.
Circa 1986—Lila pens her first novel. A YA tale of angst, which was even then pretty dramatic. It ended up in a dumpster somewhere.
Circa 1989—Lila’s English professor humiliates her in front of the entire assemblage of sophomore candidates for the coveted advanced education degree having something to do with public relations or communications or some such thing. I changed majors like underwear back then. However, I will never forget the shame of having my “story” for English two hundred something or other read in front of everyone and disassembled in quick fashion, Prof determining it was nothing more than romantic smut of the highest order and I must be in love with the subject from which the inspiration came from. The worst part…I was…and the subject had no idea…
Circa 1990—Lila gives birth—to a human child not a manuscript. Explanation enough for the writing to go on the back burner for an extended period of time.
Circa 2009—Lila finds her nest empty and without a source of employment.
What’s a girl to do? For me the question of empty-nest syndrome was short lived at best. I adored my kids, but was proud of them for being out on their own and happy they were starting their own lives. I was a bit sad to see them go, but I still don’t get the falling down, needing therapy, my life is over attitude with which some mothers approach this phase in
life. I could do things I’d never been able to and the kids were getting their shot at the wide world. What’s the big deal? I did need something to occupy my time, however. It was the first time in twenty years I’d not worked outside the home and we’d just moved to a new duty station, the market helped squash my hunt for employment and I found myself with a spotless house and nothing left to do.
Good grief, how long had it been since I’d read a good book? Ummmm…as long as I’d had kids? Well, it hadn’t been quite that long, but my reading time had been seriously impeded since motherhood and wifing had taken up the majority of my time.
As a treat to myself, I made a trip to the local book store. My husband didn’t catch on fire, but the look on his face was priceless when he saw the bag I came home with and the receipt. J Have I mentioned he makes a good living and I’m the most spoiled princess wife on the planet? Vera Bradley hears my name and shudders.
I started to read, and found myself disappointed with overall content yet fascinated at how far we’d come insofar as hot, sweaty sex. Yeehaw! Then I remembered, the memory was fuzzy at first then coming clearer…I wrote this stuff long ago and far away. In another life.
One filled with hours of free time and professors that were less than enamored of my love story telling skills. Plug your ears here, folks. **** them!
“Huuuuusband! I want a home office.”
“Yes, love.”
“I’m going to write.”
“I think that’s a fine idea.”
I so love my husband.
Six months later or so, The Executive Officer’s Wife was complete. ***cue the crickets*** Now what? I’d been out of the game so long, I wasn’t even familiar with electronic publishing and had no idea how to contact a publisher of that or traditional means. Well. Google seemed a decent place to start. It was on one of my searches that I stumbled across a small press and decided maybe it was the one. Believe it or not, it was the one and only press I submitted to and I was accepted storming out of the gate, first shot. Scary? Yes. Was it that good or that bad? Neither as it turned out, but I knew after a few weeks it wasn’t all I could have made it and discovered after my second house had a whack at Bound by Trust I had a lot to learn. I was embarrassed by The Executive Officers Wife and wanted it back posthaste, but it was too late for that. It was out there and nothing to be done.  It was through that first press I met my best friend. We became tied at the hip sight unseen and before my husband made his last deployment, he decided I needed to meet my soul sister face to face.
So, he made arrangements to take me to see her. It was while visiting her, she introduced me to some very important people who had a vision that I sort of dug. You know, I firmly believe in fate and destiny…I won’t tell the entire story of everyone’s part in that, but trust me when I say, we’ve been touched by the hand of something greater than ourselves in this. I digress…onward…
Four people that would change my life and direction. Those four people were Elizabeth, Rebel owner, her husband, a silent partner, Carl J Franklin, graphics guru, and the original, and only at the time, editor, Sherri. It was much later the other editors would come on board to
include a longtime friend of mine who was looking to slow down since her husband’s retirement.
Over pancakes and eggs one morning, I was asked if I would mind terribly joining their team in the undertaking of getting a new press up and running where the writer would come first. Well, that was a novel idea. One I sort of liked. It was my marketing skills they sought. I guess my best friend had played me up to them and they were somewhat impressed. It was
a few weeks later Elizabeth contacted me and told me my marketing talents were now needed as the first few Rebel titles would be rolling out fall of 2010, which included a couple of my titles which had been accepted.
Now, here’s where the realmantica notion comes into play. After the release of A Slower Lower Life, which is in fact one of my softer, more sensual works (see I’m not all whips and restraints), I was feeling a tad low. It seemed there wasn’t a market for that type thing and I’d not discovered my darker side yet. It seemed everyone had a“tag” of some sort, a claim to fame that caught a reader’s attention immediately. I wasn’t sure what mine was. It was in a long, late night talk with Elizabeth, she with her glass of dark red, me with my tumbler of Crown, she informed me I did in fact have something that few others possessed, my tag…She informed me the market was ripe for the realism my characters portray and the term realmantica was born.
I guess she was right for the reviews tell me so…Nearly every professional review I receive says something to the effect the reviewer was so taken in by my realistic players they felt they knew them by the end and could swear they were reading about a friend. A fine compliment indeed.
I hope Dante, Blake, and Julie don’t disappoint as Assumed Master has found its way to the
shelf…
Lila Munro currently resides on the coast of North Carolina with her husband and their two four-legged kids. She’s a military wife with an empty nest and takes much of her inspiration for her heroes from the marines she’s lived around for the past fifteen years. Coining the term realmantica, she strives to produce quality romance in a realistic setting. Her genre of choice is contemporary romance that spans everything from the sensual to BDSM and
ménage. When she’s not writing, she enjoys reading everything she can get her hands on, trips to the museum and aquarium, taking field research trips, and soaking up the sun on the nearby beaches. Her works include The Executive Officer’s Wife, Bound By Trust, Destiny’s Fire, Salvation, Three for Keeps, the Force Recon series, the Slower Lower series, and the Identity series.
She’s a member in good standing of RWA and Passionate Ink. Currently she’s working on sequels to several series to be released throughout 2012. And has a brand new line
scheduled for winter 2012-13. Ms. Munro loves to hear from her readers and can be contacted via her website http://realmanticmoments.blogspot.com; Facebook at http://www.facebook.com/Lila_Munro; Pinterest at https://pinterest.com/lilamunro/ Goodreads at http://www.goodreads.com/author/show/4200524.Lila_Munro. You can also
contact her via email at lilasromance@gmail.com
~~~
We may be born to the lifestyle,
Julie Stevens and Dante Larson always knew their tastes were a bit more eccentric than those of the average person, but acknowledgement of their chosen paths came at different times. While their lives have run parallel for the last twenty years, destiny always came knocking at the wrong time. Julie was a closeted edge player and before Dante could pull her free of her fears, Mason came along and dragged her kicking and screaming from her self-inflicted
darkness, leaving Dante wanting. Although Dante’s been in love with Julie since the day he first laid eyes on her, he's happily married to Blake. But the tides are turning.
But Lady Fate dictates how it should be lived…
Still mourning the death of the only Master she’s ever known, Julie finds herself forced to live with the one man she’s been terrified of for years, Dante. While she has to admit something between them feels right, just as many things feel very, very wrong, starting with the fact he’s married to her gay best friend. Before she even has time to sort out her current predicament, another man catches Julie's attention. But after losing her mother, her sister,
and her husband, can Julie come to grips with the fact that Keegan McKettrick jumps out of perfectly good helicopters for a living, rescue diving for the Coast Guard? And where exactly does that leave Dante, who knows for sure he needs a woman to complete his unconventional marriage? Quite frankly, he's tired of waiting.
http://www.allromanceebooks.com/storeSearch.html?searchBy=author&qString=Lila+Munro&searchBy=author&qString=Lila+Munrohttp://www.amazon.com/Lila-Munro/e/B0055KK140/ref=ntt_athr_dp_pel_2Thank you for stopping by today! I loved the story of how Rebel Ink Press began and can't wait to get my hands on your upcoming releases!
Today Lynne Cantwell drops by to share her Most Slippery School Memory! And to one lucky person, Lynne will be awarding a $10 Amazon GC to one randomly drawn commenter on the tour. I grew up in northwest Indiana, five blocks from Lake Michigan. Winters there are not for the timid. In fact, I used to own a sweatshirt that said, “Indiana: spring, summer, fall, winter, winter, winter….” Often, we would get our first snow by Halloween – I vividly recall stepping over snowbanks to go trick-or-treating. Spring consisted of a couple of weeks of mud in May after all the snow melted; anybody in our town who dressed a kid for Easter in one of those pastel coats in the Sears catalog could have been arrested for child endangerment.
So I can deal with snow. I don’t like it now, because I live near Washington, DC, where the merest whisper of snow in the forecast sends everyone in a panic to the grocery store to buy bread, milk, and toilet paper. (Seriously, that’s what people here do. It’s like two inches of snow will sock them in for a week.) But snow and I go way back. I can walk in it, drive in it, and even enjoy it, if I don’t have anywhere to be that day.
Boy, was I surprised when I went off to college in southern Indiana and discovered there was something worse than snow.
It happened one morning during the second semester of my freshman year. When I walked to my 8:30 a.m. class, it was drizzling. When class let out an hour later, I noticed that people on the sidewalk were behaving oddly – they were tripping, sort of. Then I took one
unsuspecting step onto the sidewalk myself, and boom! I was on my butt. While I was in class, the drizzle had turned to this nasty stuff called freezing rain. Everything looked normal,
but it was covered in a thin, flat sheet of ice. I couldn’t get any traction. Not even walking on the grass helped – that was covered in ice, too.
Somehow, gingerly, using little teeny steps, I made it back to my dorm. I’ve apparently
blocked out the memory of that harrowing walk, but I’m sure my feet skidded out from under me at least once more.
In my four years of college, I experienced several more freezing rain events, and it got so I could manage to get around. But there was one other time the weather gods got me.
I was working at the record library in the music building and had just finished a shift. My preferred shortcut home included a dirt path down a wooded hill. While I was at work, that path had turned into a sheet of ice. Carefully, I picked my way down it, stepping sideways, wedging my feet against convenient rocks and clumps of dirt. I was pretty proud of myself
when I got to the bottom of the hill without mishap. Home free, I took a confident step, and boom! I was on my butt.
Since then, I’ve moved around a fair bit, and I’ve learned to deal with other unpleasant weather phenomena – tropical storms, ice storms, nor’easters. But to this day, some thirty-five years after our first acquaintance, I still hate freezing rain.
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The winter solstice 2012 won't be the end of the world. It will be the beginning of the end....
Naomi has a pretty sweet life. Respected as a skilled mediator, she has an almost uncanny knack for getting people on both sides of a dispute to agree. And her handsome boyfriend Brock has just proposed to her. But a white buffalo calf is bowing to her in her dreams. And who is the Native American man who has been following her around?
Naomi doesn’t know it, but things are about to change....
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EXCERPT :
Working my ginger Nissan Cube free of LoDo at last, I pulled up behind a car that was sitting at a stop sign...and sitting...and sitting. No traffic was coming in either direction that I could see, and my earlier ebullient mood was evaporating by the second. Finally, in frustration, I cried out, “Just go, already!”
The car ahead leaped into the intersection. A horn blared as another car shot into my range of vision from the left, narrowly missing the first car. As the driver on the cross street flew by, still honking, the other driver rocked to a halt on the other side of the intersection and just sat there.
I realized my hand was covering my mouth. I pulled it away with an effort and sat for a moment, glancing between the flaring brake lights across the road and my hands trembling on the steering wheel. Finally, the other car’s brake lights went out and he, or she, drove away. Slowly and carefully, I did the same.
Shannon met me at the door, her grin dissolving into a look of concern…. “What happened?”
I told her. About the other driver, and about the settlements.
As I talked, my brain began clicking things into place. It wasn’t just that I was getting really good at my job – it was too easy. People were far too suggestible around me. The client
had told Perry that I had a magic touch. That he couldn’t help agreeing with everything I said.
I could tell someone to get out of my way at an intersection, even if it put that person in danger.
“Something weird is going on,” I finished, rather lamely.
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 Author Bio:
Lynne Cantwell has been writing fiction since the
second grade, when the kid who sat in front of her showed her a book he had written, and she thought, "I could do that." The result was Susie and the
Talking Doll, a picture book illustrated by the author about a girl who owned a doll that not only could talk, but could carry on conversations. The book had dialogue but no paragraph breaks. Today, after a twenty-year career in broadcast journalism and a master's degree in fiction writing from Johns Hopkins University (or perhaps despite the master's degree), Lynne is still writing fantasy. Her third novel and her first urban fantasy, Seized: Book One of the Pipe Woman Chronicles, was released in March.
Amazon author page: http://www.amazon.com/Lynne-Cantwell/e/B005JTP5NE/Smashwords author page: https://www.smashwords.com/profile/view/lynnecantwellGoodreads: http://www.goodreads.com/author/show/696603.Lynne_Cantwell
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/pages/Lynne-Cantwell/172485489493956Twitter: https://twitter.com/LynneCantwellLinkedIn: http://www.linkedin.com/in/lynnecantwell
Blog: http://hearth-myth.blogspot.com~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Thank you Lynne Cantwell for dropping by! Don't forget to leave a comment! And to one lucky person, Lynne will be awarding a $10 Amazon GC to one randomly drawn commenter on the tour.
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