Moving forward!

I had an amazing phone meeting with Kensington editor Audry LaFehr and her assistant, Martin Biro today.

They love my imagination, the relationship between Valerie and Lance, and how well the sex and violence work. They also said it was strong visual writing (woot!!).

They wanted to talk to me personally instead of through a letter in order to discuss what they thought needed work - basically, Dracula's Secret is very powerful, but also confusing. They suggested focusing more on the main romance, doing more with the secondary plots - ie what purpose do these characters have, etc.

So basically, I got the world's most awesome revise and resubmit phone call! Martin will be in town for Willamette Writer's conference, and he'd love to meet for dinner, too.

They made no promises, but said they loved my writing talent, wanted to give me lots of encouragement, and said that they very very rarely call an author to give her feedback.

I'm all verklempt!!

Giveaways?

Authors are constantly being told to hold giveaways on their websites/blogs.

What in heavens name can an unpublished author give away???

To hell with it.

I want a cocktail. I want this cocktail.

O Fizz Drink Recipe
3 teaspoon(s) sugar (or simple syrup)
12 fresh mint sprigs, plus extra for garnish
3 ounce(s) fresh lime juice
Ice
8 ounce(s) vodka
Cranberry juice
Champagne or sparkling wine
Fresh raspberries, for garnish

For each fizz, add 3/4 teaspoon sugar, 3 mint sprigs, and 3/4 ounce fresh lime juice to a cocktail shaker. Muddle content with a longhandled muddler or bar spoon; add ice to shaker, along with 2 ounces vodka and a splash of cranberry juice. Shake vigorously and strain into a flute. Top the glass with champagne; garnish with a few fresh raspberries and a sprig of mint.

And a footrub from highly decorative cabana boys.

Recipe from delish.com

Hey, Jason!

What about this?

Rwanda still seethed with pain, even though Valerie had killed the rapist and saved the children. Valerie twisted her lips at the memory. She’d had to use teeth and claws to kill him, and he’d tasted simply terrible. There simply wasn’t enough Listerine in the world to get rid of that aftertaste.

Ick.

You know you are sick when watching Julia Child cook makes you want to throw up instead of cook.

Dracula's Secret, the next page.

It didn’t make sense. His perfect, confident posture and chiseled, patrician features marked him as the kind who should be swinging a tennis racket on some blue-blood tennis court.

Why this reaction to this man on this rainy night? What was special about him? She had sworn off men for more decades than she cared to remember. Thousands of handsome, well-built, and brave men had passed in front of her over the years.

The headlights from a bus lit him up even brighter. He spotted her. Their gazes met and locked. And she saw his true nature.

A warrior, home from the front lines, sick of violence but caught in it. That eye-searing shine was not innocence, for lines of hard-won worldly knowledge bracketed his sensually-shaped lips. Exhaustion creased the corners of those extravagantly gorgeous eyes and lived between his eyebrows. Instead of purity, he lit the night with the ferocity of his spirit.

Valerie sucked in the cold, clove-scented air.

Only the best of humanity had that shine; people dedicated to making the world better for everyone, not just themselves. She’d seen that glow in such disparate people from Mother Teresa to a pubescent boy protecting two toddler girls from a rapist in Rwanda.

This one had a Higher Calling.

Bad news.

Higher Callings meant certain failure to their vehicles. Poverty still ran rampant in Kolkata. The girls and their protector died by the rapist’s denied fury. Valerie smacked her lips at the memory. Rapists were always tasty.

Worse, those well-meaning fools always tried to suck her into their cause. Those idiots dared to claim her fight was less worthy than theirs.

No promise of sunshine was worth that risk. The steady rain cooled her arousal. Time to go.