The Gift of Romance Novels by Jan Scarbrough

A romance novel or romantic novel is a type of novel and genre fiction which places its primary focus on the relationship and romantic love between two people, and usually has an “emotionally satisfying and optimistic ending.” Wikipedia

A Central Love Story: The main plot centers around individuals falling in love and struggling to make the relationship work. A writer can include as many subplots as he/she wants as long as the love story is the main focus of the novel. Romance Writers of America

I don’t want to concentrate on the plot of a romance novel, but an emotionally satisfying and optimistic ending. We all know how the novel will end—the guy gets the gal. We feel good about their struggles when they end “happily ever after.” My first editor told me to make my ending more emotionally satisfying. I went back and wrote another ending.

In Kentucky Flame, Mel and Jake reunite after ten years. During the story, Jake learns Cory is his daughter.

“We need to tell Vanessa. Cory is her responsibility.”

Jake frowned. “Isn’t that a cop-out?”

“It may be,” Mel said with a shrug. She climbed down from the fence. “But maybe we can’t make a happy ending out of this.”

Looking thoughtful, Jake put a fingertip under her chin and lifted it. “I don’t know about that. I’m all for happy endings, remember? Dreams do come true.”

“If you make them come true,” Mel finished for him and walked away from him toward the barn.

He hurried to catch up. “I think we can begin to make this turn into a happy ending if you’ll say you’ll marry me.”

She stopped and turned to face him. “This is not time for one of your jokes, Mr. Hendricks.”

“I’m not joking.”

“You can't say that to me in the middle of the driveway.”

“I can ask you to marry me anywhere I please. Remember, I love you.” Jake laughed and cupped her face into his hands. His lips descended upon hers in a liquefying kiss. “I love you, you stubborn woman.”

“Oh,” Mel sputtered, hardly able to think.

Jake lifted his head. “I’m assuming you love me too.”

Mel’s response was breathless. “Of course.”

“And I'm assuming you’ll finally marry me.”

Mel threw her arms around his neck. “Of course, I will.”

“Terrific!” Laughing, Jake scooped her off her feet in a powerful embrace and performed an awkward pirouette.

Her blood rushing in her ears, Mel savored his exhilaration, the safety of his arms, the very thrill of the moment. When she came down to earth, she pushed away ever so slightly and turned her gaze up to touch his face.

“We still haven’t solved our problem,” she told him seriously.

Jake took a deep breath. “Yes, I know. You’re right about talking with Vanessa first, but I think someday Cory has to be told the truth. Besides, whatever happens from now on is our problem, one we work on together.” He hugged her. “Bargain?”

Mel nodded her head. “Bargain.”

With his arm around her shoulder, Jake drew Mel toward the wide entrance of the barn only for them both to be brought up short. High above them in the hay loft with her legs dangling over the side of the opening and an irrepressible smile on her face sat Cory. Had she heard them talking?

Jake squeezed her shoulder and grinned up at Cory. “What are you doing up there, kiddo?”

“Watching you guys.”

Mel’s breathing quickened. “Did you hear what we said?”

Cory’s face fell. “No. You all were too far away. But I saw you kissing.” She brightened. “Are you going to get married?”

Mel and Jake exchanged guilty glances. “Yes.”

“It’s about time,” Cory said with a matter-of-fact little nod.

Mel’s shoulders sagged with relief. “So, why would do you want us to get married?”

“Because you’re my family,” she told them.

Mel’s mouth went dry, and she really thought her heart would crumble. Once more Jake squeezed her shoulder for support.

“How do you figure that?”

“You’re part of my barn family. You know, Vanessa and Pop and Major.”

“I see.” Jake nodded his head.

Her blue eyes were serious. “Besides, if you get married, you’ll stick around.”

“You’d like that?”

“Yep.”

His gaze rested on Mel like a blessing. “We’d like that too, wouldn’t we, Mel?”

She looked up at him. “Yes, we would.”

Jake turned back to Cory. “Well, kiddo, if you plan to show in Kansas City this November, you’ve got a lot of work to do. Hop down and the two of us will give you a riding lesson.”

As Cory scrambled down from the hayloft, Jake kissed the top of Mel’s hair. “It’s going to work out,” he said in a hushed voice, so Cory wouldn't hear. “Thank you so much for giving me my daughter.”

Tears clouded Mel’s eyes and joy caressed her heart. Whispering close to his ear, her response was like a kiss. “You were right. Sometimes dreams do come true.”

I contend that romance novels give us hope.

Hope: desire accompanied by expectation of or belief in fulfillment

https://www.merriam-webster.com/dictionary/hope

If you have hope, you think everything will turn out okay—something good is going to happen.

Without hope, we’d have despair.

Despair: utter loss of hope

https://www.merriam-webster.com/dictionary/despair

I argue that without hope, we humans are lost. We’d be unable to survive the trials and tribulations of life. Sure, our earthly problems teach us lessons. There’s probably a reason for them in the long run, but without hope that life will get better, we’d be bogged down in our troubles. We’d have no optimism.

Right now, I’m optimistic Christmas holidays will be better than Thanksgiving. My husband and I ate dinner alone without our family. I have hope I’ll be able to see my grandchildren at the end of December. 

After all, my online shopping needs to be delivered!

 

KEEP LEARNING!

 By Caroline Clemmons

Hello, Dear Friends,

Our August theme is Sizzling Days, Sultry Nights. No, we're not responsible for the weather, which has been both sizzling and sultry in North Central Texas. I'm looking forward to fall and winter. 

How has your summer been so far? Taking into account our unusual circumstances during the pandemic, mine has been pretty good. In many parts of the country school has started or will next week. In my mind, this marks the end of summer—even though officially summer ends on September 21. 

Are you doing anything new to occupy time you would have gone out in previous summers? During our time at home, I’ve been signing up for webinars and participating in Zoom meetings. I want to keep learning, stretching the brain to keep my mind as sharp as possible. I’m grateful for the internet and the ability to learn and to keep up with friends through social media and email.

For those who don’t want a webinar, there are Ted Talks covering almost every subject. Hero and I have watched many of those. I’m amazed that some are even humorous as well as informative. I admit Neil deGrasse Tyson is one of my favorites because he explains complicated theories in terms everyone can understand.

For clean, down home humor, I watch Jeanne Robertson’s YouTube videos. Our daughters and I saw her performance in person a couple of years ago. Since she isn’t traveling to speak right now, she has a “back porch” discussion on YouTube. I’m not a fan of those, but the videos of her performances are fun. My favorite is her discussion of sending her husband to the store, which has become a classic. If her sort of humor is not for you. there are many other entertainers on YouTube. Dry Bar Cafe offers a variety of comics.

Reading has saved the sanity of multitudes. You can understand why we authors at Romance Gems (and elsewhere) love readers! We are readers as well as writers and I’ve been working in extra reading lately. I just finished The Secret Orphan, which I recommend. Yesterday I started Miss Peregrine’s Home for Peculiar Children, which was recommended by our librarian daughter. Probably it’s a young adult or new adult book, but it is fascinating and hard to put down and get to work. It's going to be a movie soon.

If you’re looking for something to read, we have the perfect solution, LAST CHANCE BEACH: Summer’s End, which is only 99 cents for fourteen new stories! This box set is only available for a limited time, so grab it while you can. My contribution is The Man in Gull Cottage. Writing a short story was difficult. I had to revise and cut characters or my story would have been too long. I’m pretty pleased with the end result. Maddie James created the cover for The Man in Gull Cottage. I loved reading the entire set—there’s something for everyone.

As you can see by the graphic below, our Comment to Win is back. If you want to enter, just leave a comment that includes your email (with spaces so spammers don’t grab it). You can enter every day.

Until next month, stay safe, be optimistic, and be kind.

Once Upon a Cowboy @MaddieJames #RomanceGems

Once upon a time there was a teacher, and one hot August summer, she and her teacher friend went off to a conference in the cool Colorado mountains. The conference was great--what they saw of it, anyway. The trail ride they skipped the afternoon sessions for was a lot more exciting.

You see, there were cowboys.

And this teacher, even though she'd not ridden a horse since she was a kid, made the commitment for a four-hour trail ride into the Colorado mountains--two hours up and two hours back. All was well heading up the mountainside, the scenery was great, the horse was a dream, the cowboys were... well, cowboys.

Coming down the mountain, however, was a different story. The teacher had a difficult time handling her horse on the downward slopes, crossing a little stream, and keeping up with the other horses. She mixed up her signals to her mount. When she thought she was telling the horse to slow down, she was really telling the horse to back up. Consequently, they lost their space in the horse line. So, the horse galloped. And the teacher held on for dear life. And when the teacher was finally finished with this nightmare, she could only think of one thing--

At least there were cowboys.

Now, this story does have a happily-ever-after ending. You see, the teacher turned her adventure into a book. The opening scene--probably elaborated upon a bit--mimicked the teacher's chaotic ride down the mountain. She sold that book--her first published novel--and then the teacher wasn't a teacher any longer. She was a romance author who wrote about cowboys (and other things).

True story. I swear. I have the book covers to prove it! The original book is on the left, the revised/rebranded and re-authored book, is on the right!

Now, twenty-some years later, the sequel to this first cowboy book, is finally written. 

Readers have been asking for Mack and Jillie's story for years. Years! But other stories and different cowboys got in the way. Until now. 

The Cowboy's Secret Baby releases August 25, and I (Maddie James / the teacher) am ready to share it with the world! Here's the blurb: 

She’s the maid of honor. He’s the best man. 

Both are keeping secrets from the other.

The long-requested sequel to Maddie James’ first published novel, Roses & Rawhide is now available!

Readers wanted to know...
What happened to Jillie and Mack’s relationship at the end of Roses & Rawhide?
Why did Jillie go back to Kentucky?
Will they get back together?
What’s their story?

While Kim Martin and Thad Winchester find their happily-ever-after in Roses & Rawhide, their best friends, Jillie Abernathy and Mack Montgomery, end their sleeping-bag-sharing relationship during the rugged, two-week pack trip into the Colorado San Juan mountains.

But when Kim and Thad host their wedding at Thad’s Colorado ranch a few months later, Mack and Jillie must come face-to-face with reality—and with each other. She’s the maid of honor. He’s the best man. Both are harboring secrets—secrets that could break a potential future relationship if they both avoid telling the truth.

Can they reveal those secrets to each other? And if so, can they get past the withheld truths to plan a future together?

PREORDER TODAY!

DON'T FORGET! A NEW BOX SET AND A FREE COCKTAILS BOOK!

Some of the Romance Gems have teamed together to release a new box set with all-new summer beach stories, and their favorite summer cocktail recipe in a free book! See the details below!

GET THE $0.99 BOX SET! | GRAB YOUR FREE COCKTAILS BOOK!  

And last, I'd love it if you would comment below to win our monthly giveaway prize. Details are here.

COMMENT & WIN QUESTION: My chaotic ride down the mountain on the trail horse was not my most glamorous moment of all time. In fact, it was quite embarrassing. What's your most embarrassing moment? Comment below & (maybe) win!

****

Maddie James writes romance – but don’t try to pin her down to one genre. From edgy suspense to flirty contemporary romance to darker erotic titles, she writes to silence the people in her head. Affaire de Coeur says, “James shows a special talent for traditional romance,” and RT Book Reviews claims, “James deftly combines romance and suspense.” Learn more at www.maddiejames.com.

The Bloom of Love @LucindaRace #Romancegems

I’ve been mulling over this month’s blog post since the moment our theme was announced. Tree, shrubs and flowers are in bloom around my home and so are my allergies. We have been dealing in our own ways, with the world around us – but the one constant in all our lives is love.

 Starting from when we’re born our lives are filled with love from our family. We continue to discover the wonder of it again and again. With the first blush of romantic love we have a sense that we can conquer the world. The rush of emotion you feel when you meet your partner, the instant bond when you hold your child in your arms and that moment your fur-baby lavishes you with affection. In those first heady moments we know in our hearts there isn’t an obstacle to large we can’t overcome.

 Love gives us strength to face whatever lays ahead of us. We draw strength from it. I am a romantic at heart on all levels. Love gives me strength. I have faith I will never run out of love, it is like the magic well, the more I give the more I have to give. Love is a like my favorite rose, ever blooming in my heart. My hope for you is to take stock and discover that romance and love are in full bloom all around you.

 On May 7,  I released my 11th book, The Matchmaker and The Marine. Here is the opening scene.

Melinda flipped her planner shut after drawing a heart next to the two names on the page on the notepaper. Another success. The strains of the “Wedding March” played by a string quartet filled the small flower-filled chapel. Guests rose from their seats to watch the petite bride glide down the aisle toward her handsome groom. Across the aisle in a pew, a tall, well-built man with blonde hair cropped military style and molten brown eyes locked on hers. He gave Melinda a half nod before his gaze followed the bride.

The pastor’s deep voice filled the room as he asked everyone to take their seats. He then turned to the couple to perform the ceremony.  After the newly married couple kissed, Melinda followed other guests in the receiving line to the bride and groom.

She beamed. “Stacey and Will, it was a beautiful ceremony.” Stacey was radiant. Will’s arm was curled around his new wife, holding her close to his side. “Melinda, this day wouldn’t have been possible without you.” Stacey lovingly gazed at Will. “Thank you for introducing us.”

 Melinda kissed her cheek. “It was my pleasure.” Will lifted Stacey’s hand to his lips, grazing her ring finger. “I will tell all my single friends if they’re looking for love to give you a call.” His eyes twinkled. “You certainly have a knack for matchmaking.”

 “You two made my job easy.” She looked over her shoulder. “You have more guests to greet, but I’ll see you during the reception.”

 She strolled down the brick walkway to her car, content to see the love between Stacey and Will. Just as it was meant to be. After making the short drive to the country club, Melinda parked in the crowded lot.

As she crossed the parking area to the reception hall she daydreamed of how nice it would be to take off her pumps and walk barefoot. She reached for the brass knob on the carved wood door. Before she could turn the knob, it burst open. She took a step back. Her heel caught a crack in the stone step. She began to fall backward when strong hands caught her and held on tight.

 A deep voice next to her ear said, “It’s okay, I’ve got you.” Melinda looked up into warm brown eyes. It was the man from the chapel.

 “Um, thank you.” She smoothed her hand over her simple navy-blue dress and then pushed a curl behind her ear. “I’m not sure what happened.”

 “It looks like your heel got caught.” She gave him a small smile. “It’s a good thing you were there to catch me.”

 With a slight stiff bow, he said, “Adam Bell, at your service, ma’am.”

***  

If you'd like to purchase this or another one of my  books here is a universal linkhttps://books2read.com/ap/xyYO2g/Lucinda-Race .

I hope you enjoyed this excerpt.


 Until next time, I wish you love. Lucinda

Don't forget... Our May giveaway and theme are in full swing. First Prize: $20, Second Prize: $15, and Third Prize $10, all paid in Amazon Gift Cards.

Best of Luck to everyone in the drawing! Click: Rafflecopter giveaway to enter!

A Very Lucky Daughter

This month we, the #Romancegems have been talking about luck. But it’s also my dad’s birthday. This year he’ll be 84 years young. Our family is blessed with longevity and I intend to be “lucky” enough to live a long and healthy life. 

I am very lucky to be my father’s daughter. When I was young my dad was a farmer and he only had every other Sunday off. Otherwise he was in the barn by 5 AM and worked until 6 PM most every day. Winters weren’t as busy so he seemed to be home earlier on the weekends. 

Invariably, I would find my way to the barn to ‘help’ Dad with his chores or milking time. At the age of 5 or 6 I’d follow him around, spread hay out for the cows and make sure they had water. Of course, there were soft velvet noses to pet and spiderwebs to avoid but I loved being at the barn with Dad. It was there I believe my work ethic was ingrained in me. 

Being a working man isn’t for the faint of heart and he worked hard up until he retired. Even then, he would build furniture to give to family members or to sell. In the last few years he’s slowed way down. But just this past weekend when I was visiting with him we were talking about my girls. He mentioned how they were both stubborn and hard working. I had to chuckle.  I pointed to him and said, “Tree. Then I pointed to myself and said limb and the girls are apples. We all originate from the same place. He just smiled and the twinkle appeared in his deep-brown eyes. “Baby girl, you might be onto something.” 

It’s in those precious moments that I know how truly lucky I am. 

Until next month 

Lucinda

Until next month ... stay lucky!!! Speaking of luck, don't forget to enter this month's Rafflecopter drawing for two Amazon gift cards. You can find all the details on our Monthly Giveaway page. Or, you can go straight to the Entry Form. Either way, it only takes a minute or two of your time for a chance to win!

Life Is A Journey @ElsaKurt #RomanceGems

Forgive The Cliche...

As writers, we're supposed to avoid them at all costs and come up with a more original or creative way to say the same thing. But the thing about cliches is... they're true. Life is a journey (not a destination) and I don't want to say it another way.

I remember when I was a young girl thinking, "When am I ever going to be older?" I didn't have a specific age in mind, I just wanted so much to Be Older, to do stuff and things older people got to do. Time and the elusive older stretched out like the horizon - unreachable and endless. Oh, silly girl.

What Seemed So Great About Older?

Well, for one, it looked to me like none of those 'Olders' were getting told what to do. (Cue the buzzer: WRONG). Let me preface this next one with: it was the seventies. All the Olders got to smoke cigarettes and drink out of fancy glasses, they got to stay up late, wear makeup, and say bad words. They were so darn cool. I, at the graceless, scrawny, awkward age of seven (eight, nine, and ten through twelve) wanted to be that. Cool. Older.

When The Hell Did That Change?

I can't pinpoint it exactly, but I think I was about forty when I realized I was that mythical creature, that perceived unicorn: Older. Maybe you read that and thought, "Jesus, honey. Forty?" What in hell's bells was I doing in those previous twenty some odd years?! Believe it or not, I was adulting, aka, being older. I just didn't feel like I was.

Delusions, Confusions, Illusions...

Among the aspirations of being Wonder Woman, a beach bum, a writer, an actress, and a veterinarian, I developed a strong desire to be and do something less popular in the Age of the Independent Woman: I wanted to have lots of babies and be a stay-at-home mom. I wanted a house with a white picket fence and a dog and a garden. I wanted to be a PTA mom who volunteered at her kid's school and have a bunch of mom friends. And guess what? I got my wish. Mostly. I married at age twenty, had my first daughter just after I turned twenty-one (my second five years later) and I did and had all the stuff and things. Only, it wasn't quite what I'd hoped. Or envisioned. Or... hang on, I'll get there.

Life Is A Journey

See, I'd spent a long, long time thinking it was a destination. I thought once I got there (Older), I'd be all set. Mission accomplished, goal achieved, an arrival well met. Can I again say: Oh, silly girl. Motherhood was everything I thought it would be. My friendships, my sweet little house, my charming little life in my cozy little town... close enough to perfect. It was that whole pesky marriage thing throwing a wet blanket on my party.

I Make Light... 

It's been many years since those dark days, so I can. Revisiting those days is something I chose not to do, at least not often. Suffice to say, the road was bumpy as hell. Divorce is ugly. So ugly. It's an experience I wish on no one. If you've been there, and if you've traveled that road with kids in tow, I'm preaching to the choir here. In fact, my fellow travelers (along with my need to purge the toxins of that experience) served as motivation for writing my first novel, Livvy Takes the Long Way. Livvy's journey is based strongly on my own...

About Livvy Takes the Long Way...

Livvy Handler is at the crossroads of her life. Married to a man she now can't recall ever loving, although she must have. She must have believed she did. How could she have gotten here - at this precipice - otherwise? Livvy knows she has to get out, but that word - how, how, how - repeats like an endless echo in her mind. She's trapped in a gilded cage of her own design, her own choices. Or is she?
When a face from the past returns, Livvy comes to believe it might be the sign she's waited and longed for; her path to freedom from a man who tears her down as if for sport. Should she takes the fork in the road that leads to who-knows-where, or stay on the one paved with unhappiness but safety and familiarity? Tread water for the sake of her child, or swim fast and hard to a new life? These are the private dilemmas of a woman quietly breaking down.
It's also the metamorphosis of a woman discovering her worth, realizing her strength, and finding her way. It's a story for any woman traveling the hard road, fear and doubt lodged firmly in heart, but undeterred and head held high. And it's the story for any woman who thinks she can't...

Forgive Me...

This perhaps isn't your traditional romance book, but don't worry, it has a happy ending! When I learned that this month's theme is about Life Lessons, I knew this was the book I wanted to share with you. I poured so much of what I've learned in life into that story. Honestly? It was terrifying to put something so close to home out into the universe, something so vulnerable and exposing. There was a time when I hated Livvy and felt so angry with her for doing everything the hard way (yes, there's psychological subtext in there) but I've come to love and understand her so much better now that... well, now that I'm older.

As For My Journey... 

I love every bump, twist, and turn in the road thus far. Yes, even the bad ones, the stupid ones, the impulsive, and destructive ones. They brought me to the here and now, a place where I live in infinite gratitude for the life I get to live. It's not perfect, nor do I want it to be (how boring that would be!) but it's hard-won and worth every skid mark and road rash I snagged along the way. Life itself is the destination. Here. Now. Tomorrow. Every day after. I arrived at it forty-eight years ago and so far, it's a pretty nice place...

Care To Share? 

I'd love to hear about YOUR life lessons and how they impacted the way you live! Here are ours:

 Oh, and here's our November Giveaway!

November is the month for Gratitude, Appreciation, and counting your Blessings if you are religious and/or philosophical. Grateful, Thankful, Blessed—that's what we Romance Gems Authors feel. Join us this month in celebrating the Life Lessons we all learn. Enter our November Rafflecopter now for a chance to win 1 of 5 Amazon Gift Cards. 

You can also enter by going to the Monthly Giveaway Page HERE

November Life Lessons Rafflecopter

In The Beginning .... by Nancy Fraser

Like most authors, I'm often asked, "How did you get into writing?"

The answers you hear most often are: "I always knew I wanted to write. It was as given." And, "I've always loved creating stories to share. How could I not write."

Then ... we get, "Why did you choose romance?" As if it's some sort of a consolation prize when you can't write "real" books. To that, most of my friends reply, "I chose to write what I love." That usually ends their questions!

Some authors admit to getting hooked on the reading first. So much so, stories just appeared in their writer's mind out of nowhere waiting to be told. Some say, they were prompted by another author to put their random thoughts into a book.

Then there's me. How did I get started? You might say, it was on a dare.

I didn't begin writing until I turned forty. I figured, why not? My two sons were semi-self-sufficient, my out-of-the-house job was fairly routine and didn’t tax my brain, and my husband had his sports.

I contemplated what I should write. Cookbooks? (I did, and still do, love to cook.) How about a children's book? Or, maybe a local history book?

I figured I had a leg up because the day job at the university consisted of my entering and formatting books handwritten by our professors. I’d become an expert on the brand new MacIntosh II computer. (Yes, I’m that old!)

Ah ... work ... that was where it all started.

My co-worker, an extremely bubbly, talkative woman ... the kind you want to have model duct tape ... was also an avid reader. Of romance. One afternoon as I sat patiently waiting for a new batch of professor scribbles to cross my desk, she made me an offer. “I’ve got plenty of books,” she said. “Would you like to read one while you wait?”

Snob that I was, I shook my head and replied, “No thank you. I don’t read romance.”

Miss Perky Personality wagged her finger, shot me a broad smile and said, “Come on, try one. They’re a great escape from this boring stuff we type all day.”

I picked one from the pile she kept on her file cabinet, read the back cover blurb, and smiled faintly. “Chain Lightning by Elizabeth Lowell. Never heard of her.”

“Oh, she’s great. You’ll love the book.”

That was the moment my brain and my mouth stopped working in unison. Boldly ... stupidly ... I replied, “You know, anyone can write one of these.”

Up until that point, I had no idea Polly Sunshine could actually smirk. But ... she did. “Really?” The sarcasm in her voice was not lost on me. She continued, “I dare you to try. This weekend ... write two chapters. You’ll see. It’s not so easy.”

Stupid is as stupid does ... I was never smart enough to walk away from a challenge. “You’re on.” I pocketed the book by this Lowell lady and returned to my cubicle. I figured, if nothing else, I could get an idea of how romance novels were formatted. No doubt very differently than the scholarly texts I was used to producing.

Five o’clock came. The start of a fairly quiet weekend. The kids were busy with friends, hubby was away at a softball tournament. Just me, my Commodore 64, and noisy dot matrix printer. I was living the life!

So, what to name this ridiculous attempt at writing a love story? What does every woman who’s been married for 20+ years want? A mysterious man ... a Dream Lover!

Okay, I had a title. Now to think of a plot and get an idea for structure. Perhaps, I should read a chapter or two from the book I brought home. Just to get an idea of what they write about in romance novels.

Four hours later. Damn! That was a great book.

The first thing Saturday morning, I rushed out to the grocery store and straight to the books and magazines. There, on the shelves, I discovered another book by Ms Lowell ... Fire and Rain ... but a different cover style.

What was Silhouette Desire? I bought it ... not that I would admit that to anyone at the time.

Four hours later. Double damn!

All growing boys want hot dogs and store-bought potato salad for supper, right?

Late Saturday night, I began to write. My English degree had prepared me for short stories, poetry, and the occasional essay. Not a novel and definitely not a romance. Yet, once I started, the idea unfolded like a blossoming flower.

Sunday, I printed out those two chapters, made some minor edits (okay, maybe not so minor), and reprinted.

Monday morning arrived and, chest puffed out like a proud peacock, I dropped those pages on my co-worker’s desk. “There you go. Two chapters.”

She lifted the cover page and pushed her glasses into place. “Dream Lover. Hmm.”

There was still twenty minutes before start time, so she took a sip of her tea and began to read. Off in the distance, the clock in the courtyard chimed. She kept reading.

I don’t know why I was nervous. After all, it was only a dare. Not anything I was going to pursue. “Well?” I asked when she reached my desk.

The frown on her face said it all. She hated it. I’d obviously screwed it up. Not that it mattered.

“You copied this didn’t you?” She rattled the pages for maximum effect.

“What?”

“You copied this from someone else’s book?”

“No, of course not,” I insisted. “I wrote it myself. Just ask my boys who had to live on hot dogs and bologna sandwiches all weekend.” (Not that they minded.)

“Prove it,” she said, taunting me. “We’re not busy today. Write another chapter here at work.”

There it was ... that stubborn personality that never backed down. “Sure. I’m not expecting any new pages until later today.” I snatched back those first two chapters so I could re-read the end of the second chapter as a starting point. Somewhat surprisingly, chapter three came even easier. I sent it to print just before first break.

Handing her the pages still warm from the printer, I smiled. “Something to go with your chamomile and crackers.”

After break, she stood sheepishly beside my desk, her head bowed. “I’m sorry I accused you of copying the story. This is really good. You should submit it to a publisher.”

I shook my head. “No thanks.” I passed her the pages. “Here, this is all you get. If you run out of books, you can always re-read these.”

“I’ll make myself a copy. You should take these with you and put the third chapter in your home computer. Just in case.”

That should have been the end of it. Yet, every evening after work, supper and dishes, I’d put myself in front of the computer and plug away at another page or two, sometimes more. Within a couple of months, the book was done.

I went to work that next Monday, the entire book in my briefcase. I was going to give it to Miss Perky as a surprise. Instead, she turned the tables on me.

“Here,” she said, nearly bouncing out of her sensible shoes with excitement. “This is for you.” She passed me an envelope.

Silhouette Books, New York, NY. “What’s this?”

“Don’t be mad, but I submitted those chapters to Silhouette in your name.”

“What did they say?” Obviously, it hadn’t dawned on me that the envelope was unopened.

“I don’t know but I’m here for you when you open it.” She paused and then leaned in close. “Now. Open it now.”

“Dear Mrs. Fraser ... blah, blah, blah, blah, blah. Please send the complete manuscript at your earliest convenience.”

Triple Damn!

Thus began the story of my first rejection letter. However, back in the day, they actually gave you pointers to improve your work.

Dream Lover ended up collecting dust bunnies for a number of years before I finally got tired of dragging it around and threw out the print copy. I still have it on floppy disk ... and a disk reader! Just in case. Thirty-five books later and I still can’t part with those disks!

Just as a quick addendum, even though the "original" version of Dream Lover never saw the light of day, I did manage to recycle the title for one my Golden Age of Rock and Roll novellas. Dream Lover, based on Bobby Darrin's 1959 hit was the fifth story in the series!

My origin story is not typical of most romance authors. However, the love for the genre and the desire to keep writing even when the competition is heavy, the outlets are slim, and the money isn't always what we'd hoped, is what keeps us going.

Until next month, keep reading, keep dreaming and, if you write, keep doing that too!

Nancy

Don't forget to enter our September Rafflecopter Giveaway – Back to School ... Back to You!

The prizes are listed on our GIVEAWAY TAB above, along with the entry form. You can also click HERE to go straight to the entry form!

August is My Favorite Month by #LucindaRace

Hello again,  

I think the month of August is almost perfect. The dog days of summer have arrived and we’ve gotten through the normal heat wave of July and the sweltering nights. Living in the Northeast we don’t have central air conditioning so we do suffer for about a week, well not really suffer. It’s the January freeze in reverse. But back to the perfect month. The days of August are warm, the nights are cooling down and the garden is fulfilling its promise of a plentiful harvest. If I could slow down time I think August would be the month I’d choose. 

During August hubby and I take at least one week of vacation in our small, but super convenient, motorhome. In past years we’ve taken two consecutive weeks. So far this year we went away for a few days and plan to go camping to the coast of Maine in early September. But what does that mean for writing and reading? 

I always tuck my kindle, filled with new titles, in my briefcase bag and at least one paperback. Hey you never know if you can’t charge it. You e-reader fans understand I’m sure.  I’m currently reading one novel from every #RomanceGem and if you’ve haven’t stretched beyond your usual genre, you should. Before joining this amazing group of romance authors I’ve never really read western romance, vampire romance or time travel romance. Check out my Goodreadspage and you can follow along with my reviews of my reading list. The downfall of this plan? After I complete a book, I’m buying the next in the authors series and veering from my reading plan. I have to get back on track.

Now what about my writing. Am I writing my next book, is all this reading slowing me down? Not in the least. I’ve just finished the first draft of a new book and waiting for my editor to send me back another novel. My critique partner recently asked me how can I read, write and of course still do the day job. I had to confess, everything about the written word is my obsession. Some people love shopping, gardening, cooking or a host of other things. My adrenaline. Words. 

Jasper

Griffen

Confession time. I have a three-season porch and ever since I moved in I’ve longed to have a reading chair and footstool. About three weeks ago, hubby and I were out and about and I started looking at chairs. What was I waiting for, I’ve lived in this home for almost fifteen years. Timing was right. There was a good sale, I signed up for their friends and family program and I even got free shipping to the store. I’ve been enjoying the dog days of summer in my new comfy chair. There’s room for my little Jasper next to me and Griffen has claimed part of the foot stool as his own. 

Below I’ve added a little snip from Old and New book 1 in the MacLellan Sisters Trilogy. I hope you enjoy it. 

Thud. Jamie slammed the door behind her, shutting out the biting cold. The silence embraced her as she entered the quaint cottage. A familiar ache wrapped around her heart, this was home but she was alone. Kicking off black high-heeled boots she walked in stocking feet to the mantle, flipping a switch the gas fireplace whooshed to life. She held her hands out towards the fire and rubbed them together absorbing the warmth. Welcome home, Jamie. 

She wandered into her bedroom and changed into yoga pants, a well-worn fisherman-knit sweater and plush heavy socks, perfect for hanging out in the house. The back door chimed. Must be the girls.

“Come in,” she called down the hallway. 

“Jamie, where are you hiding?” Kenzie shouted.

“In the bedroom. Be right out. Is Grace with you?” 

“She’s right behind me.” 

Jamie walked into the hallway, her smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. 

“What’s going on?” Grace came bopping through the door, clear blue eyes dancing. 

Jamie tugged at a curl that had escaped from Grace’s bun. “I’m happy to see my sisters.”

The sisters were exactly eleven months apart, Scottish triplets. Each sister was born on the eleventh of the month, Jamie in May, Kenzie in April and Grace in March. They had the same crystal-blue eyes and chestnut hair, but that was where the similarity ended. Jamie was tall and willowy, and her long hair fell in thick waves around her shoulders. Kenzie was vertically challenged and athletic,her short, spiky hair suiting an active life. Grace, the baby, was average height and her figure was curvy like her bouncy curls.

“It’s about time you got here, Grace, I’m starving.” Kenzie grabbed two paper bags out of Grace’s arms and hurried into the kitchen. Over her shoulder, she said, “Hey, I thought Jamie was buying tonight.”

Grace shrugged off her long tailored black coat and tucked the butter-soft pink leather gloves and pink beret into a side pocket, and hung it next to Kenzie’s deep blue pea coat. She tugged on the bobby pins holding her hair secured in a bun, letting her curls bounce free. Closing her eyes, she sighed, “Oh that feels so good.” She tousled the curls into place. “I volunteered to pick it up.” Glancing at the counter, and then at Jamie she smirked, “Is there wine?”

Jamie’s eyebrow arched. She smiled in response—“But of course”—and pointed to the kitchen. “Help yourself, there’s white in the fridge.” 

Kenzie rummaged through the wine rack. Victoriously, she thrust the bottle in the air. “I’m opening the merlot.” 

“Pour me a glass too?” Jamie asked, and Grace echoed the request.

Jamie sniffed appreciatively. “My gosh, the lo mein’s making my mouth water.” She rummaged in the second bag. “I hope you got extra dumplings.”

The sisters quickly filled their plates and the wineglasses. Settling into the deep cushions in front of the crackling fire, plates resting on the square wooden coffee table, the girls held up their glasses—cheers!

Kenzie twirled noodles around her fork and shifted her gaze to Jamie. “Your text said a box from Scotland arrived?” 

Jamie’s shoulders slumped and she munched on a slice of bread. “I got an email from Mom. She and Dad are cleaning out some of Gran’s things and found it. I guess it was addressed to us. I thought it would be better to open it together.”

Kenzie looked between her sisters, her smile pained. “It’s hard to believe she’s gone.” 

Jamie wiped away a lone tear. “I keep expecting the phone to ring and hear Gran asking when we’re hopping on the next plane.” 

“Guys”—fighting back tears, Grace’s face sagged—“can we concentrate on what’s in the box? It hurts too much to talk about Gran’s death.”

Kenzie wiped away the tears that had slipped down her cheeks. “Grace is right. Let’s open the box and see what’s inside, after we finish this amazing lo mein.” 

I hope you continue to enjoy what is left of the summer season and don’t forget to enter our August Rafflecopter Giveaway. We are celebrating The Dog Days of Summer with great prizes as well as free books. Check out our Giveaway Tab above for complete information.  

You can also reach the entry form by clicking HERE.

Until next time, 

I wish you happiness. 

Lucinda