I've clinched a publishing contract! - How shall I celebrate?

Right then folks: how to celebrate having signed a publishing contract for "The Billionaire's Dilemma: Twin Mistresses"?

Does anyone remember reading a snippet (blogfest) in which "Lost" a lion cub featured? Well, this is the novel and it's scheduled for release July 2012. Naturally, by the time the hero meets "Lost" she's nine-months old and all muscle, but, being as he's an ex-cavaleiro (Portuguese bullfighter) Allessandre is not afraid to face Lost with little more than golf club to hand. Exciting stuff.

Actually, I have sort of celebrated this publishing deal by self-pubbing a historical novella to Kindle. See my writer profile blog for details and tell me what you think re self-made book trailer.

Book Trailer & Challenge No. 8 - "Lies!"

Even though I dreamed up the theme "Lies" I found it quite hard to come up with a piece that had any romantic elements. "Lies" is a tough one, because there might be hurt along the way even if romance the end result, and this is the opening to a romance novella. 

When would life again be simple?

       Damn it, he just couldn’t erase the image of her leaning on the top rail of the paddock; her attention solely transfixed on the horses and ponies, a swathe of poppies dancing in gentle breeze beside her. 

       She hadn’t come to kiss him goodbye, and she’d never missed doing that before. Had she known, known then that he’d lied?  Why hadn’t he got off his damned Ducatti and strode across to her, swept her of her feet and hugged her?  But no, he’d glanced at his watch and running late had set off with nothing more than wave of hand.

       O.K., so he’d sort of said his goodbye at breakfast: her cornflower blue eyes following his every movement. Something in her expression throughout had implied distrust at every word uttered from his mouth, her raven hair tumbling over her shoulders and petulant air about her. And, when she’d left the house she’d looked remarkably unconcerned about his going. But to just stand and not even watch him leave, as though he merely motoring into the village for the morning paper when in fact he would be away for months It all made him feel a worse rat than usual. 

       Damn and blast it, he couldn’t let her coolness get to him. He had an important business meeting. He needed to be focused on matters at hand not have his mind wandering to Anna Marie, not when he had Caroline to pick up on the way. But then again, Anna Marie had every right to be mad at him. He’d promised so much one way and another and delivered little or nothing, bar for lavish gifts that always seemed to delight her.      

       What of Caroline, though, and how would Anna Marie react if she knew there was someone else?

       He knocked on Caroline’s door, sense of guilt weighing him down.

       The door opened in a flurry, Caroline’s ever provocative smile teasing the senses.           

       “Nick, lovely to see you back. You didn’t call.”

       “I had things on my mind.”

       Oh God. When would the lies end?  When would he finally be able to tell his daughter the truth about himself?  Anna Marie deserved so much more from him than that of absentee father, and of being left with his aged parents. 

386 words.

To see work by other participants go here. 

And please, take a look at this book trailer!  This is my meagre attempts at a book trailer for my novella "Her Favoured Captain". 
Be kind, please, I'm a novice at this game.  
"Her Favoured Captain" is now published and available on Kindle at Amazon.

The Amazon link can be seen top right side-bar.
If you look at the bottom left corner of cover image you'll see a motif: RFW. There's a reason for this and I'll explain more, later, on a RFW set-aside page.

Romantic Friday Writers 7th Challenge & MC Blogfest!

If you're here looking for my entry to the MC blogfest, it's directly below the RFW Challenge!

For the RFW Challenge No. 7, I’ve snatched a snippet from my historical novella ‘Her Favoured Captain’.

Brief: Emerald, distraught, has rushed down to the creek and to someone she hardly knows but has come to trust, implicitly! But things are not as she has expected . . .

Why had her buccaneer deserted her so cruel, set sail, and not a word? They had agreed to meet again late afternoon, and if nothing else she would have pleaded to sleep a while in his arms if not able to sail away with him. Now, now she had to go back and face Ned and Moorby. Barely able to raise herself from her knees, a sleepless night had most certain taken its toll alongside dread of a fate worse than death.

       She retraced her footsteps, heart leaden. The bridge reached she sat upon the steps, tears flooding. How had it come to this? How could Ned be so irresponsible in gambling away the house, the estate, when already mortgaged beyond their means? What evil influence had possessed him, driven him to drink and to reckless carding?  Once a loving brother, now a monster, she neither knew him or understood this brother returned from war a hero, when so weak in other ways. Two years of Ned back at Penhavean, the estate coffers emptied and the life they had known slipping from their grasp.

       Sound of horses hooves and wheels stole her attention, for a carriage most certain on approach to the bridge and coming from the house. Could noon have passed, and Moorby on his way as threatened? Surely not, for it could not be more than half eleven and time enough to meet with the earl’s demands. She had to do something, any thing to save Penhavean and Ned from ruin. If not, her future would be more uncertain than before. At least as Moorby’s wife her status that of a lady would be retained, and as Ned had said, provide a son for the earl and take a young lover if you despise the old man that much.

         To be so uncertain as to who would be waiting upon her return to the house, quite daunting. If it was Ned she feared his wrath, but he could not hurt her any more than he already had. If Moorby, she would have to surrender herself to him. He might think of her as his, for he would have her body. Part of her heart, though, would forever remain at Penhavean Hall, the greater part at sea. No matter her buccaneer’s desertion he had unknowingly stolen her heart.

       Oh, how love hurts. . .

396 words!  To see other participants entries go here.

      

 This blogfest is kindly hosted by the lovely Elizabeth Mueller.

Right, the object of this blogfest is “How to Connect with Your MC”. In other words, a couch therapy session, as in, interview disguised as therapeutic bonding!

***

Hi, I’m Tara, a character in a contemporary romance, and the idea of being interviewed by my author sounded kind of wacky to me. Don’t get me wrong, I’m sure there are things I kept from her, not intentional for my part, just hadn’t thought them worth revealing. But anyhoo, the question session started something like this: see what you think!

Question 1:  What is your greatest fear?

Tara:  “I have a secret, simple as that. If ever it’s exposed my true identity will come to light.”

Question 2:   What is your biggest accomplishment?

Tara:  “Oh, that of my second greatest love, stage design. It landed me a job on Broadway.”

Question 3:   What is your biggest regret?

Tara:  “That I didn’t go with Rick. If I had, at least I’d know whether he’s alive or dead, presupposing I survived the air crash.” (tearful moment) “No body has been found with the wreckage of his aircraft, and it’s weeks since it was discovered on a remote beach in Brazil”

To see other participants in this blogfest go here.

While you're here, don't forget to check out other listed blogfests: see banners in sidebar!

Blogfests!

What were we all saying a little while back, where did all the blogfests go?

Well, here are two blogfests worth supporting:

Firstly Elizabeth Mueller is hosting MC blogfest June 24th. 

This is all about interviewing your main character. 

Secondly Heroines with Hearts are hosting a 100 follower blogfest July 24th.

This is a simple little blogfest, in which you name your first adult book read. 

Maybe it was a book you hid from mom, or your first action adventure, then again you might have had your nose in one of the classics. Whatever, to fess up go here! 

So c'mon folks let's go support these blogfests!

Last, but not least, there are weekly challenges/blogfests over at Romantic Friday Writers. 

You don't have to be a member to post, but if you write romance you might like to join a great bunch of romance writers. See latest themed challenge below this post.

6th Challenge Romantic Friday Writers

OK, this week's theme is Up Up & Away.

This piece written tonight is dedicated to the RAF Red Arrows Air Display Team.

A touch of romance added, of course!

Cell-phone to ear, the kettle steaming, and a cup of coffee next on her main agenda, Maggie exclaimed, “You are joking?”

       “No,” came the reply. Mac sounded exasperated in extreme. “Dave said, to tell you to get down here as soon as you can.”

       “But why?”

       “I hate to say it, but his exact words were, tell her to hot-foot pedal to metal, or I won’t be home tonight. It’s her call.” 

       “Shit  . . . I didn’t mean it, didn’t mean what I said this morning.”

       “Ummm. Well  . . . Go to hell kind of rankles us blokes. Believe it, his low fly exercise today was less up up and away and more akin to scything grass than I’d care to see for a second run tomorrow.” 

       “That bad, huh?”

       “Yeah, so do us all a favour and cheer him up before he clips his wings first thing.”

       “I’m on my way.”

                                                       * * *

      

What in hell was going on?  She clamped her hands to ears. The blast of jet engines deafening as the whole team of scarlet red aircraft lifted off the runway and soared almost vertical. The lead aircraft, Dave’s, arced to left; the others following seconds apart in timed formation, each falling away to perform a specific manoeuvre.

      Eyes glued to the lead plane she watched it dip, then soar upward leaving a short blast of red coloured taper in its wake. I

     A second and third aircraft performed L

     Fourth aircraft a circle O

    Within seconds I Love You in red, white, and blue hovered above the airfield. 

    Then came a low fly past, really low with intermittent dipping of lead aircraft’ wings before it turned to come in to land.

     Mad fool, didn’t he realise she loved him, too?

     She waited while the aircraft taxied back, parked up, and all pilots shimmied down from their cockpits. 

     Amidst much laughter Dave calmly removed his flight helmet and approached her a big grin on his face,   “Right, that’s my line. What’s yours?”

      “Will you marry me?”

      “At last,” he said, arm coiling around her waist in python-like grip, “thought you’d never ask.”

      “You’re supposed to do the asking.”

      “What, and get my head bitten off for pressuring you.”

      “Kiss me, sexy,” oozed purr-like.

      “Now this new you, I like. Like a lot.”

       “So kiss me.”

      

     Word count 397


To see other participants entries pop over to RFW for the linky list.