Last February, I entered my first two contests. One was sponsored by Harlequin on their forum for writers, and it involved writing the first thousand words of a Valentine’s Day–themed secret-baby romance novel.

Mine was called CUPID’S ARROW, and it began with the heroine, Cupid, saying, “I don’t see what’s so romantic about getting shot in the ass by some fat, flying baby.”

Apparently, the contest judge shared Cupid’s sentiment, because my entry won! (For the curious, the rest of the entry is here.) The prize was a month’s mentoring from Tessa Radley, a multipublished Harlequin author.

Pretty heady stuff for little old me. I’d only just started writing the previous October. I’d just completed COMPANION WANTED, my third full manuscript and the first one that I’d managed to whip into what I hoped was publishable shape. And now, suddenly, mentoring! Accolades! I nearly fainted dead away.

Meanwhile, the Romance Junkies Writing Contest was announced, and at the suggestion of my critique partner, Faye Robertson, I entered it. I submitted the first scene and fourth chapter of COMPANION WANTED, a hot, funny, somewhat unconventional cross-country bike ride romance. Unlike the Harlequin contest, the Romance Junkies contest felt quite official, which made me nervous. But I was ready to let my baby out into the world, and the contest promised to give me a shot at getting the manuscript in front of an editor at Carina Press. So I pressed Send and crossed my fingers.

My excerpt went up in one of the early weeks of the contest, which ran through May. In March, I got feedback from six or seven readers, all positive. Most exciting, I got a gushing, excited note from a complete stranger who invited me to e-mail her. I did, of course, and that’s how I became friends with Gina Leigh Maxwell. Gina had also entered the contest with her paranormal romance, DESIRES OF THE SOUL (which is fabulous, by the way, and deservedly became a finalist). We got to chatting over e-mail, and in time she got to be one of my best writing buddies—a great cheerleader, critique partner, and friend.

If the contest had yielded me nothing but Gina, I would have been more than pleased with the return. But there was more!

While I waited for the contest to end and the results to be announced, I worked with my Harlequin mentor, who encouraged me to query agents with the manuscript of COMPANION WANTED. So I did that in March, and in April I hit the jackpot and signed with my agent, Emily Sylvan Kim of Prospect Agency.

Emily didn’t like my pseudonym, Anne Vincent, which I’d invented for the contests and never used otherwise. We batted names back and forth for a while, and in May, Ruthie Knox was born. She emerged from the womb with her own website and a wicked Twitter addiction that has only grown worse with time. Also in May, COMPANION WANTED made its way out into Editorland on submission with a few different publishers.

In June, I won the grand prize in the Romance Junkies contest. The first three chapters of my manuscript were critiqued by Rhonda Helms of Carina Press, and I also won a Kindle (which I cherish and use daily). Rhonda enjoyed the manuscript and invited me to submit the full, with a view toward possibly acquiring the book for Carina . . .

. . . but in the meantime, I’d accepted an unbeatable offer to publish COMPANION WANTED with Random House!

The book has a new, better title now—Ride with Me—and will be released on February 13 through Loveswept, Random House’s digital-first line.

So in the space of less than five months, I won two contests, made a friend, got an agent, gave birth to my pseudonymous writer self, got my book in front of the eyes of several editors, and accepted a publication offer. A wacky ride, indeed—and it all began with two contests.

Thanks to Romance Junkies for the amazing opportunity!

ABOUT THE BOOK

RIDE WITH ME

In this fun, scorching-hot eBook original romance by Ruthie Knox, a cross-country bike adventure takes a detour into unexplored passion. As readers will discover, Ride with Me is not about the bike!

When Lexie Marshall places an ad for a cycling companion, she hopes to find someone friendly and fun to cross the TransAmerica Trail with. Instead, she gets Tom Geiger — a lean, sexy loner whose bad attitude threatens to spoil the adventure she’s spent years planning.

Roped into the cycling equivalent of a blind date by his sister, Tom doesn’t want to ride with a chatty, go-by-the-map kind of woman, and he certainly doesn’t want to want her. Too bad the sight of Lexie with a bike between her thighs really turns his crank.

Even Tom’s stubborn determination to keep Lexie at a distance can’t stop a kiss from leading to endless nights of hotter-than-hot sex. But when the wild ride ends, where will they go next?

AUTHOR BIO

Ruthie Knox figured out how to walk and read at the same time in the second grade, and she hasn’t looked up since. She spent her formative years hiding romance novels in her bedroom closet to avoid the merciless teasing of her brothers and imagining scenarios in which someone who looked remarkably like Daniel Day Lewis recognized her well-hidden sex appeal and rescued her from middle-class Midwestern obscurity. After graduating from Grinnell College with an English and history double major, she earned a Ph.D. in modern British history that she’s put to remarkably little use.

These days, she writes contemporary romance in which witty, down-to- earth characters find each other irresistible in their pajamas, though she freely admits this has yet to happen to her. Perhaps she needs more exciting pajamas. Ruthie abhors an epilogue and insists a decent romance requires at least three good sex scenes.

GIVEAWAY

What’s your favorite romance or road-trip story? One lucky commenter will be randomly chosen to win a digital copy of Ride with Me. Winners will pick up their copy through Net Galley. Good luck to all!

Dear readers,

What will you do when a shameless woman is vying for your husband or boyfriend’s attention? In my latest novel, The Spinster’s Vow: A Spicy Retelling of Mrs. Darcy’s Journey to Love, Elizabeth Bennet was confronted with this situation:

***

“Darcy, what a surprise!” Lord Martin came forward and shook Fitzwilliam’s hand with vigour. “And who is this lovely lady? Are you indulging in…”

My husband’s mouth thinned and he introduced me immediately. “This is my wife. Elizabeth, this is Lord Nolland’s grandson Lord Martin.”

I curtseyed and extended my hand. The young lord took it and bestowed a kiss, with his eyes gazing at me. Although there was nothing improper about the kiss, I could see Fitzwilliam’s displeasure.

“Magnifique! I must get to know you better, Mrs. Darcy, for any woman who can catch the elusive Mr. Darcy is worth knowing.”

“You exaggerate, Lord Martin,” I replied. “But I am delighted to make your acquaintance. I have heard much about you from Lord Nolland. But you are very wrong. My husband is not a fish, to be caught.”

Lord Martin laughed out loud. “I hope the old goat has not said anything bad about me,” He rubbed his hands. “He is always very severe with me.”

He was being rude, seemingly forgetting the tall red-haired lady by his side, although the woman had been looking my husband up and down with curiosity. “And will you do us the honour of introducing your companion?” I asked.

“Oh, I see! Where are my manners?” Lord Martin smacked his hand on his forehead. “Well reprimanded. Mrs. Darcy, this is Amelie Dubois, an aspiring French opera singer on vacation here. Amelie, this is Fitzwilliam Darcy, with ten-thousands a year. His estate of Pemberley in Derbyshire – you do know where Derbyshire is, yes? – is some ten miles around. And, as you heard, this witty lady is his new wife.”

I was furious, and was certain that my husband was, too. Lord Martin was smirking and jesting about the Darcy legacy without a care, in front of this unknown woman. Her eyes lit up, quite literally, upon hearing the dandy’s description. She batted her pretty eyelashes so rapidly that I feared they would fall off, and her cherry-red lips tucked up in a seductive pout. Then she rearranged her stance, thrust out her bosom, which threatened to fall out of her thin, semi-transparent day dress, and posed most provocatively toward Fitzwilliam.

I did not need such a shameless woman to be around us for the next two weeks. And she would be sleeping under the same roof!

***

And Elizabeth and Mr. Darcy had not yet consummated their marriage as they were forced into the marriage. I hope she wouldn’t scratch the eyes of Ms Dubois out. What do you think will happen? Please comment below to have a chance to win a copy of The Spinster’s Vow in paperback format. Competition is open to worldwide reader and will end on 31 January 2012. Good luck!

Do come and visit me at www.enidwilson.com and here is the book blurb:

What if Mr. Bennet went missing and the Bennet women had to leave Longbourn? In this intriguing refashioning of Jane Austen’s classic, Mr. Darcy meets a melancholic but spirited Elizabeth Bennet who has vowed to remain a spinster until she finds her father. A debauchery at a masquerade forces the couple to marry.

Will Elizabeth resent Mr. Darcy’s arrogance, which forced her to break her vow? Will she find her father, with his help? This sexy and inventive Pride and Prejudice what-if story, set just after the Napoleonic Wars, takes the perennial favorite in a new direction with captivating plot twists and passionate romance.

And thank you to Kim and Romance Junkies for having me! Hugs from hot and wet Sydney.

 

 

 

Hot Man With a Badge

By Avery Flynn 

I blame it all on Tom Selleck’s Magnum PI.  

Sure he was a PI not a cop, but who could deny the awesomeness of his mustache and the wriggling eyebrows? Smooth, funny, hot and with an amazing car, he charmed and sweet talked while solving mysteries and taking risks because it was the right thing to do. So when it came to write Dry Creek County Sheriff Hank Layton’s story, it wasn’t an actual sheriff who inspired me, instead it was a fictional private investigator with major-league swagger.  

Hank is six-feet, three-inches tall, has short dark brown hair and the Layton family hazel eyes. A former Nebraska Cornhusker quarterback, he married his high school sweetheart and seemed to lead a charmed life that in reality was a twisted mess. He is a tortured alpha hero starting over in life and something about Beth Martinez calls out to him.  

That’s what I love about the alpha hero. To fully reach his potential, he has to find an alpha heroine - that one person who challenges him and pushes him to be more than he ever thought he could. 

 

In A DRY CREEK BED, that person is Beth Martinez, but she’s a woman of many secrets - one of which may kill her. So despite her strong attraction to Hank, she’s determined to maintain a distance, even if sometimes she slips. 

*** 

Five days into a two-week vacation, he’d given up his Dry Creek Country Sheriff uniform for jeans, a T-shirt and a scraggly beard that he somehow made appealing. Her fingers itched to feel the prickle of the three-day beard on his square jaw, to run through his thick brown hair that she knew from years of lustful observation curled if he let it grow to his collar. He was the stuff of dreams. Naughty, sweaty, tasty dreams. The object of her desire strolled across the cracked asphalt to her side. The smell of fresh coffee wafted up from the paper cup in his large hands and mixed with the woodsy scent of his cologne.  “Are you okay?” Worry weighed heavy in his deep voice and he brushed a stray hair away from her face, his eyes searching for injuries caused by the car accident. Every objection to touching him evaporated and all her thoughts focused on how much she wanted to wrap her arms around his waist and soak up his strength. “I do believe I can arrest you for looking at someone like that, you’ve got to be breaking some indecency laws.” Taking a deep breath, she recovered her bearings. Mostly. “You’re out of your jurisdiction, sheriff.” 

***

And fireworks ensue.

Hank can’t stop thinking about Beth to the point where he’s afraid of becoming permanently bowlegged. And even though the sexual tension between them is thick enough to trip over, she runs every time he chases.

But when a mysterious developer forces her neighbors off their land, Beth becomes the one person standing between the scoundrel and millions of dollars. Only Hank can help her uncover the truth. Together they risk their lives exposing decades-old secrets and learn that everything is not as it seems in their rural Nebraska town. 

Thanks for letting me stop by - it’s been a real pleasure!

About A DRY CREEK BED: 

Avery Flynn returns to western Nebraska, the setting of her first novel, Up a Dry Creek, to continue the story of the Layton family in her new contemporary romantic suspense novel A DRY CREEK BED, just published as an e-book original by Evernight Publishing.Flynn was inspired by her former hometown for the setting of the fictional town that has been home to the Laytons for generations.   Siblings Claire, Hank, Sam and Chris Layton were introduced in Up a Dry Creek, the story of Claire and her nemesis-turned-hero, Jake Warrick, as was Claire’s friend, Beth Martinez.In A DRY CREEK BED, readers discover Beth Martinez still mourning the deaths of the grandparents who raised her after her parents died in a car accident.  Beth has seen her share of tragedy, including having the dream of starting her own family ripped away from her.  Though quietly in love with Hank for years, she knows they’ll never be together.  Hank, now the Sheriff of Dry Creek County and divorced from his first wife who lied to him about her desire to have children, wants a family, something Beth can never have and can’t give him.  Despite their mutual desire for each other and Hank’s determination to pursue her, she manages to keep him at a distance.All Beth has left of her family is the home built by her grandfather.  So when a mysterious developer makes an offer on the property, she refuses.  Soon she’s receiving threats and can no longer hide what’s happening from Hank.  Forced together by circumstances, it becomes harder and harder for them to rein in their passion.  Suddenly, the stakes go higher. Coercion turns into murder and it’s up to Beth and Hank to uncover who wants the land and why—before they both end up dead.                

In A DRY CREEK BED, Avery Flynn once again brings readers a strong and sexy romantic suspense novel, with plenty of action, engaging characters and an unexpected ending.  

About the Author               

Romantic suspense novelist Avery Flynn’s first Dry Creek novel, Up a Dry Creek, was published in 2011.  Her latest, A DRY CREEK BED, has just been released by Evernight Publishing.  Born and raised in western Nebraska, the setting of her fictional town of Dry Creek, she now lives in the Washington, D.C. metro area.  There she continues to write and work at her day job while enjoying her own happily ever after with her husband, three children and two dogs.  She dreams of one day having a floor-to-ceiling library, à la Beauty and the Beast, and is working to perfect the coffee IV drip.  She is delighted to have her first two books published and to be hard at work on High and Dry Creek, her third Dry Creek novel. 

A DRY CREEK BED, an E-book Original, on Sale Now

http://www.averyflynn.com

http://www.evernightpublishing.com

I love New Year’s Eve.  When I was younger, I was pretty much a wallflower who sat home year after year.  I would watch the glass ball going down in Times Square and wish I was there.  As an adult I’ve tried to make up for all those lost New Year’s Eves and rarely miss going out on the town.

I love to dress up in black sequins and high heels, and am fortunate that my husband is a knockout in a tuxedo.  One of my favorite New Year’s parties was in Beverly Hills.  I was invited to a function that was the height of elegance and even had celebrities in attendance.  I remember seeing Hugh O’Brien, who used to be Wyatt Earp on TV, a really gorgeous guy back then, and Faye Dunaway, who was class personified. 

For me New Year’s Eve is champagne and romance, and being a romance writer, why wouldn’t I adore it? 

This year, besides going out on the town, I’ll be celebrating the re-release of one of my all time favorite books–HOT RAIN.  The hero, Jake Dawson, would look gorgeous in a tux–or better yet, nothing at all.  Allie Parker is blond and sexy, and the chemistry between them burns.  Jake’s an undercover agent working to catch a gang of drug smugglers.  Unfortunately, Allie Parker believes he’s one of the thugs who have taken her prison and stashed her on the yacht they are taking to Mexico.

Jake has a helluva time keeping Allie safe and at the same time playing the roll of her captor.  There’s a lot of humor in this one, which is why my readers chose it back when it first came out as their all-time favorite.

The book has been out of print for nearly ten years, so I’m hoping readers who haven’t had a chance to read it will give it a try.  It’s got a fabulous new cover and will be out in e-book format for the first time ever.

 I hope you’ll try HOT RAIN and that you enjoy.  HAPPY NEW YEAR!  Very best wishes, Kat 

Read the rest of this entry →

2011 has gone by so fast. Only a few days left before a New Year dawns. This has been a great year. Lots going on and I took time for me. Finding that balance between day things, writing and me time. With the balance I’m feeling much better and ready to do what I need to do. I’m eager to see what 2012 will bring. There will be lots of exciting things coming I can feel it.

I wish you a Happy 2012 and much more great years to come.

McKenna Jeffries
http://www.mckennajeffries.com/
…. sensual, edgy, unexpected

Blog: http://www.mckennajeffries.com/blog
Updates Group: http://groups.yahoo.com/group/McKennaJeffriesList
Free Reads Site: http:/ /www.satinnotes.com/

Conquering Jazz - What’s a woman to do when she unwittingly makes a tantalizing proposition to her best friend?

Be brazen, bold and set some ground rules. Her offer. One night of carnal bliss. No emotion allowed.

His counter offer. A continued affair to fulfill all their sexual cravings.

His hidden agenda. Conquer to make sure their affair never ends.

Buy here at Liquid Silver Book.

We are part of the Mistletoe Madness Blog Hop

 What is a giveaway hop?

Each participating blog hosts a giveaway and then we link up together allowing our followers to hop from one giveaway to the next.

What is RJ giving away?

Two winners will get a pkg with four print books from the Romance Junkies Book Vault. And one winner will get a box with some books, chai tea, hot chocolate and and chocolate.

How do you enter?

Enter to win by posting a comment to this blog entry (don’t forget to include your email) or you can send an email to entercontest@romancejunkies.com with your mailing address and Blog Hop in the subject line. Either way works to enter! Contest ends December 23th.

But that is just our giveaway. There are 50 other blogs that are part of this contest and there is a grand prize a Nook Color pre-loaded with books from our sponsor authors and many more. So after entering our contest move with haste over to

Mistletoe Madness Blog Hop 

so you can find more blogs to jump to and you can enter to win more stuff. And over at that link you will find the entry form to enter the Grand prize for the Nook.  Good luck!

Cat Brown AKA Chaoscat
(Chaos - It’s not just a lifestyle, it’s a state of mind)
Owner/Operator Romance Junkies
http://www.romancejunkies.com  Follow us on Twitter: @RJBookReviews Writing as Samantha Storm- www.samanthastorm.comTwitter: @_samanthastorm  Murder, Mayhem & Mistletoe Stories@ Kindle/Smashwords/Nook

A conversation that I’ve had a few times in the past and more recently got me to thinking. A lot of blood, sweat, time, sleepless nights and tears go into anything that you love. Whether it is sewing that fabulous outfit, painting a picture, crocheting a throw or any other number of things you do. With each it takes all of what I mentioned above on my your to get to that finished point. It is the same with being a writer. Let me break it down.

Blood – I’ve typed so hard that I’ve left blood on the keyboard or gotten paper cuts while reading through pages of my manuscript. Hey paper cuts hurt something awful. (grin). I put my figurative blood into each book I write. My heart and soul are on each page.

Sweat – I’ve broken into lots of sweat as I pounded away at the keyboard trying to get a scene just right. Talked with a reader which I love to do. Since I am shy this is the hardest for me. Hush those who know me that are laughing. I am shy, just not with those I know and am comfortable with. But I digress. I’ve sweated about a variety of things. Waiting anxiously to hear back on a submission. Edits for my book. Opened a review of my book.

Time – The amount of time spent with writing the book, doing self editing, then again self editing, crit partner editing, your editing again and then off to publisher who you will have to wait for a response. And if you get that all lovely response of “yes” then even more waiting to get to the process. When in the process even more waiting to get through the process. Then after process even more waiting to actual release. Then release then more waiting to see what people think. Whew I am tired of even imagining the time. Yet each moment is worth it. So worth it all.

Sleepless night – The idea in your brain that will not understand that you are sleeping that forces you out of bed in search of paper to write it down. The book you are writing that will not let you rest until that last scene is just so or that last word is complete. The excitement of a new project. The wait for the submission that you sent. Or waiting for a note/call from your editor on something.

Tears – Oh the tears I have cried as I write a scene in a book or read a letter from a reader who actually got the story as intended. The awesome review that said that one phrase that made you smile that the story did as you intended it to do. The bad review that even though they didn’t like the story there was something constructive in it that you took away for future reference. The tears of completion that you finished the story and it was written to the best you could get it. The tears of relief for the contract that you went after or publisher you wanted that story to be with. The tears of making hard choices that will be best for your career.

I could go on and on with a list of what all the things above mean in correlation to writing. I’ve been asked many times why do I write. My quick response is “it’s in my blood, soul and heart”. The more complex one is “because the blood, sweat, time, sleepless nights and tears go into it because I love it.” I get lots of confused looks when I give the complex one so I usually give the simple explanation. With the complex response I’ve never tried to articulate what I meant until now. There are so many layers to it all. So much to say. If you think about it all those points cover many things you do in your life. I have many creative outlets that I pursue. I draw, love to sew, do crafts and cook. Each are things I love and that I want to be my best at.

No matter what you are pursuing. The things that you put your heart into – that you bleed for – figuratively and in reality. The things that bring you closer to people you would never have expected to have anything in common with. Things that may, take time away from family and friends. What you sweat over because you want it to be you upmost best and create a reaction – good or bad. The nights you cannot sleep because your thoughts are consumed with whatever project you are working on. Or the wonder when it is seen by the world and how will they react. The tears you shed to get there, between going there and as you get there. Each tear has a purpose to make you go forward. They each make you learn and grow.

In each thing you do that involves blood, sweat, time, sleepless nights and tears none of it matters because it all boils down to one thing. You do it because you love it.

Taige Crenshaw
http://www.taigecrenshaw.com/
…increasing the sizzle factor

Blog: http://www.taigecrenshaw.com/blog
Chat Group: http://groups.yahoo.com/group/crenshawcafe
Newsletter: http://www.taigecrenshaw.com/newsletterandgroups.shtml
Free Reads Site: http://www.satinnotes.com/

Power of Instinct - A woman does whatever is necessary to protect the man who is hers but once he finds out he goes with his instincts and makes her his.

Buy here at Total-E-Bound.

This is a question that’s always fascinated me from the moment I first discovered the magic of books. But now that I’m also a writer, I wonder about it even more. I started out writing at our dining table shortly after my first daughter was born. We were a young couple back then, and space was tight.

                Years later we moved into our first house. It had a dining room and a large eat in kitchen. I set up shop in the dining room, sine we’re not the type of family that does “formal” anything.  But the dining room was right off the front door with access to the kitchen. Passing through my writing space was the easy route to the kitchen and the living room. Plus since that’s where “mom” was, everyone in the house came in and had a seat. It didn’t matter if I was writing. There were no doors, nothing to help people (and by people I mean my children & dear husband) remember this was actually my work space. The running joke in our house was that “mom only hears half of what you say to her when she’s at her computer.” Well, hello!?! That’s because I’m writing. For some reason no one could make that connection.

                Still, I got a lot of writing done and for years while my children were young the no-door situation helped keep me available to them even during times when I might have walled myself off to write in peace.

                But now the kiddies are all older and they’re the ones closing their bedroom doors for privacy. But older kids are bigger kids and the first house has gotten too small. So a few weeks ago we moved into our second house. It’s everything we hoped for, bigger rooms, an extra family room with a finished basement and even an in-ground pool. What it doesn’t have is an office for me. No problem. It has a dining room which we STILL have no real use for so we’re converting it for my writing space.  And the best part is it’s not right off the entry this time, so people (and by people I mean my children and my dear husband) don’t have to pass through it to get somewhere else.

                We’re doing it right this time though, putting up a wall to close it off from the living room and adding a door for privacy from the kitchen. The problem is, it’s not done yet. We got the wall up, painted and even put in a new laminate wood floor, but there’s still a lot of work to go. So for now, I’m back where I started 20-some years ago, writing on a folding card table in the corner of the kitchen. Don’t you love how life keeps circling back around?

                So where do you write? I’ve asked a lot of authors and gotten some great answers. I’ve even started this cool collection on my website of office photos from my author friends. I call it, “The Writer’s Cave.” If you want to surf through the collection you can find it here: http://www.paigecuccaro.com/html/the_cave.html I’ll be redesigning my site soon and hope to add lots more authors.

————————————————-

A HELLSBANE BOOK - Book One - by Paige Cuccaro

Emma Jane Hellsbane just found out she’s not human—or, at least, not only human. She’s half angel, too, and now Heaven’s got a job for her: round up all the Fallen angels and their red-skinned, horned devil-demon minions and boot their butts back into the abyss. Only problem? The demons and their Fallen masters fight back…and they don’t fight fair.Luckily for Emma, she can put a stop to the constant threat of having her head hacked off if she figures out which Fallen angel is her father—and then kill him before he kills her. Of course, in the meantime, she’ll have to avoid accidentally seducing her angelic mentor, help an old friend conquer his own Fallen sperm donor, and basically save the world from a cataclysmic divine smack down.No one said being Heaven’s bounty hunter would be easy. But with a name like Hellsbane, Emma Jane was born for the job. 

Title: Hellsbane (Hellsbane, #1)
Author: Paige Cuccaro
Genre: Urban Fantasy
Length: Novel
Launch Date: December 2011
ePub ISBN: 978-1-937044-64-0
Print ISBN: 978-1-937044-65-7

Buy Links: http://www.entangledpublishing.com/hellsbane/

Amazon: http://www.amazon.com/Hellsbane-Book-1/dp/1937044653

————————-

About the Author:

Paige Cuccaro lives in Ohio where she spends her days as a wife, mother, avid reader and obsessed writer. She loves writing everything from laugh-out-loud young adult stories to steamy hot romances with a twist of paranormal. Witches, demons, vampires, werewolves and angels, if they can fall in love, Paige will tell you their story.
Find a few of Paige’s published works at Samhain Publishing and Berkley Books. You can also find novels from Paige’s risqué side under her pen name, Alison Paige where she’s published several erotic romances at Harlequin Spice, Samhain Publishing, and Ellora’s Cave Publishing .

http://facebook.com/PaigeCuccaro

http://www.paigecuccaro.com/

Twitter: @paigecuccaro

https://www.amazon.com/author/paigecuccaro

Hey everybody! Cassandra Carr here! I’m pleased to be part of the Romance Junkies blog today.

Just like there are stereotypical hero types (the alpha male, the bad boy, etc), there are also several female types. Read the descriptions below and try to figure out which one you are! Which type of heroine do you most like/identify with in the books you read?

The Eight Female Archetypes

1. The Boss: think Kirstie Alley’s character in Cheers. This is a take-charge kind of woman, which is certainly admirable. Oftentimes, though a “boss” type goes after success to the exclusion of other things like a personal life.

2. The Survivor: think Scarlett O’Hara in Gone With the Wind. This woman can withstand anything you throw at her. She’s often distrustful and a cynic. Don’t feel too sorry for her, though. She’s got intelligence and street smarts in spades.

3.    The Spunky Kid: think Meg Ryan’s character in Sleepless in Seattle. Often a tomboy/best friend type, she’s the one who’s hanging out with the guys at the bar or playing on the softball team with them. The guys, naturally, see her as one of them and not as the desirable female she desperately wants to be.

4.    The Free Spirit: think the title character in Ally McBeal. This is a “follow your heart, not your head” type of character. Oftentimes her outwardly ditzy demeanor hides a sharp mind inside.

5.    The Waif: think the title character in Jane Eyre. This one is the classic damsel in distress. These women have seen the worst side of life, but are still inherently trusting. The one thing that separates this character from the survivor is that she usually doesn’t do much to change her own circumstances.

6.    The Librarian: think Shelley Long’s character in Cheers. She’s buttoned up, disapproving, and a know-it-all. But she’s also got passion – once the hero delves into her core and finds it.

7.    The Crusader: think Buffy in Buffy the Vampire Slayer. Pretty much every female superhero is a crusader, and they don’t need any help, thank you very much. There are crusaders who aren’t superheroes, though, like Helen Hunt’s character in Twister.

8.    The Nurturer: think Julie Andrews in The Sound of Music. If you walk into her house, she’s likely to try to feed you, no matter when you ate last. Everyone depends on her to take care of them and she’s the voice of wisdom and reason.

So which female archetype are you? Which type do you like best in your books, television shows and movies?

By the way, if you’re curious about the 8 male character archetypes, check out this blog post I did yesterday.

BIO:

Cassandra Carr is a multi-published erotic romance writer who lives in Western New York with her husband, Inspiration, and her daughter, Too Cute for Words. When not writing she enjoys watching hockey and hanging out on Twitter. Her debut novel, Talk to Me, was released by Loose Id on March 22, 2011. Head Games, Buffalo Intimidators book 1, released on November 2, 2011 from Siren Bookstrand, Caught released from Loose Id on December 6, 2011, and Impact is coming in early 2012 from Ellora’s Cave. For more information about Cassandra, check out her website at http://www.booksbycassandracarr.com, “like” her Facebook fan page at http://www.facebook.com/AuthorCassandraCarr or follow her on Twitter at http://www.twitter.com/Cassandra_Carr.

BUY LINK:

http://www.loose-id.com/Caught.aspx

CAUGHT EXCERPT:

‘They’re really taking this politically correct thing too far.’

Stepping from the foyer into the living room, Callie spied a twinkling Christmas tree in the corner. On the mantel, a lit menorah burned, the candles flickering as the people nearby jostled for position as more and more guests crammed into the room. This was a boisterous crowd; already drinking like it was New Year’s. Advancing further into the room, she noticed the Kwanza decorations and rolled her eyes.

‘Pick a holiday and go with it, people. You can’t please everyone.’

She sought out the host and hostess, old friends from her grad school days, and said hello, handing over the obligatory “Thanks for inviting me” bottle of wine. They chatted for a bit to catch up before she grabbed a cocktail and made her way toward the dining room in search of other former classmates and some food. The smells of the various delicacies wafted by, making her mouth water in anticipation. She had just gotten into town and was starving. Plopping a slice of Cheddar cheese onto a cracker, she stuffed it into her mouth and then looked up — and everything inside her came to a screeching halt.

Jack was there.

With a beer hanging from his long, rough fingers, he leaned against the wall, casual as can be, while her world tilted on its axis. He looked so good– still the same tall, well-muscled body, still the same olive skin, black hair, and full lips. His Italian ancestry lent him an air of exoticness, and she’d always been a sucker for that.

Her stomach roiled. The cracker caught in her throat, choking her. As she began to cough and sputter, he turned to see what the commotion was, and their gazes met. Callie watched as his eyes went dark with heat and recognition. A blush rushed up her chest through her neck and into her face. With suddenly cold fingers, she touched her burning skin.

He brought his beer to his lips and took a long pull, his tongue sneaking out to catch a stray drop from his top lip. Her gaze followed the movement. His own intense gaze never left her face. Even when his companion said something to him, he merely nodded and kept the whole of his attention on her. She took a fortifying sip of her vodka and cranberry juice, then another, longer gulp, trying to dislodge the cracker from her throat. And still he stared.

And she did the same damn thing she’d done three years ago when she’d gotten scared by his demands, his power — she ran. Cursing herself for her cowardice, she nonetheless wove her way through the crowd, setting her drink down on the nearest available surface as she rushed past. But before she made it to the front door, she felt his hand, still chilled from holding the beer bottle, curl around her overheated arm. “Long time no see. Leaving so soon, Callie?”

He pulled her around to face him, he backed her up against the wall in the foyer. With him this close, with his touch and his smell and his sheer size surrounding her, her body betrayed her, just like it always had where he was concerned. Her nipples tightened, her pussy ached, and her breath quickened. “What are you doing here?” She sighed at her own stupidity for asking something so obvious.

“These are my friends. A better question to ask is — what are you doing here?”

“I came back to town for the holidays, and I wanted to see some of my old grad school buddies. I guess I-I didn’t think about the possibility of you being here.”

“Is me being here a problem?”

“No,” she answered too quickly.

“I miss you.”

“I miss you too.”

‘Dammit! What else am I going to admit to him?’

“I still want you. I want to touch you. I need to touch you. May I?” At her silent nod, he lightly rested his hand around her throat. Not hard enough to choke, but enough to establish his dominance over her.

‘Like he needs to establish that. How could I possibly forget who and what he is?’

Callie shivered. God, she wanted him. She’d never been as scared or as excited or felt as alive as she had during the year and a half she had subbed for Jack. Seeing him again made her want to get down on her knees and give him anything he wanted. If she remembered correctly, that was everything. But could he give it back to her? Before, he’d been unable or unwilling to, and when she hadn’t been able to handle loving him without reciprocation anymore, she’d left.

Her lips were parched, and she darted her tongue out to wet them. His eyes turned black as they blazed back at her. “I want you too.” And it was the truth. She wanted him, and this time, she’d have him. If she ran away again, she knew she’d regret it for the rest of her life.

“Are you collared?”

“No.”

“Seeing anyone?”

She turned the question around. “Are you seeing anyone?” A strange look passed over his face, but Callie couldn’t interpret it before it was gone.

“No. Answer me, Callie — are you seeing anyone?”

“No.”

Letting out a soft growl, Jack cupped the back of her neck in his large hand and kissed her. There was nothing gentle in his kiss — there never had been. This kiss was one of possession, of establishing even more control. He pressed in further, molding his body to hers while he continued to plunder her mouth. He didn’t force his tongue inside; he didn’t have to.

Surrendering, she relaxed and let him take her. He let out a grunt of satisfaction and changed the angle of her head so he could deepen the kiss. He slid a powerful thigh between hers as she moaned from the sensual onslaught.

After long moments he pulled away, grabbed her hand, and led her toward the back of the house. Callie gasped when he pushed her into a bedroom and kicked the door closed. She whirled around to face him but couldn’t bring herself to look him in the eye, reverting to the naturally submissive pose of staring at his feet, her hands behind her back. She hadn’t subbed for anyone in the three years she’d been gone and was amazed at how quickly the submissive veil slipped over her again. He chuckled.

“My pet, you’re still a delightful submissive, I see.” He took a gentle hold on her chin and pulled her face up to his. “I want you. I’ve always wanted you, since the moment you walked into my classroom. I know I’m a selfish bastard, but I’m going to ask for this most exquisite Christmas present anyway: will you submit to me again?”

Callie nodded, too overcome with emotion to speak.

“I want to hear the words — I want you to be sure.”

“Yes, I’ll sub for you,” she managed to get out around the lump in her throat.

“Good. Then you’ll be available to me insofar as you’re able to, barring other commitments. Do you understand me?”

“Yes,” she answered, the word hardly loud enough to be considered a whisper. She licked her lips again.

“Yes, what?”

“Yes, Sir.”

“By the way, I’m clean. I was tested a few months ago. You?”

“Yes, Sir, same.”

He stepped forward and shoved her to her knees. She went willingly. Callie wanted this — she wanted to show him she could handle him this time. Keeping her eyes trained on the floor, she waited for his next move. He let her stew for a minute and then pulled her to him, undoing his pants with his other hand. He guided his already-erect cock into her mouth, and she took it, letting his essence wash over her tongue, relearning the contours of the head, the smoothness of the shaft, as he sawed in and out of her mouth with brutal strokes. He’d never been easy on her, and tonight was no exception.

He pulled his still-hard cock out of her mouth, resting just the very tip on her bottom lip. “How long are you in town for?”

Callie drew back enough to answer, “Through the first of the year.”

She looked up in time to see him smile. “Excellent. We have a few weeks, then.” He thrust all the way to the back of her throat, and she struggled not to gag. He held the back of her head with both hands, forcing her to take his dick all the way to the root, and held it there for several seconds. “Where are you staying?” He pulled out again. He had always liked carrying on conversations as Callie sucked him — reinforcing his dominance by repeatedly pulling out and then shoving back into her mouth as he saw fit.

“With Lora,” she answered, naming her oldest friend.

“Ah, not far from me. I still live on Tremont. Is she going to let you play?”

“Lora lets me do whatever I want — she doesn’t judge.”

“I think I’m really going to enjoy the holidays for the first time in a long while.” He went up on tiptoe and pushed back into her mouth, tilting her head until it was at the angle he wanted, and then began ruthlessly plundering her depths. “It’s been a long time since you’ve tasted my cum, my sweet. You’re going to swallow it — every drop, like the gift it is.”

A scant few seconds later, Callie felt his cock swelling even larger, growing even longer, and then after pulling back until only his cockhead remained inside her mouth, he was coming; straining, as jet after jet of warm, salty liquid shot onto her tongue and slid down her throat. When he was finally spent, he withdrew completely and put himself back together. She remained on her knees, the denim of her jeans little protection from the hardwood floor.

Some might say she gave in too easily, but as Callie considered the man before her who’d turned her world upside down now for the second time, she knew that wasn’t true. Not at all. Her soul was at peace for the first time in years. She was a different person than she’d been all those years ago. Callie was what and where she needed to be: she just had to figure out how to hold on to the fragile sense of contentment she’d discovered tonight.

He briefly stroked the side of her face, then leaned down to touch his lips to hers. “Give me your number.” She started to reach into the purse that had fallen beside her on the floor. He chuckled. “You may rise.” Standing up with her purse, she pulled a small sheet from the memo pad she always kept with her. “Still jotting notes, I see.”

“Yes, you never know where or when you’ll find inspiration,” she answered, quoting one of his own mantras back to him. After writing down her cell phone number, she handed him the paper.

He held up it and kissed it. “I’ll be in touch.” After taking one last look at her, he left the room.

She sat down on the bed, touching the tips of her fingers to her lips. Undoubtedly he thought he’d scored a great coup, bringing her back into his fold. Little did he realize, though… Sometimes the hunter becomes the hunted.

Copyright 2011, Cassandra Carr

 

ROMANCE IS THE SPICE OF LIFE 

I love reading romance, I love writing romance.  So satisfying seeing two characters fighting their way through seemingly insurmountable conflict to their happily ever after.

That’s the great thing about romance.  You’re guaranteed a HEA every time.

Which doesn’t always happen in the kitchen…ever had a cooking disaster?  Tried a new recipe that didn’t work?  For all those who prefer reading about food than cooking it, I think you’ll enjoy BUSTED IN BOLLYWOOD.

Reviewers have said the book leaves them…hungry!

BUSTED IN BOLLYWOOD is a contemporary romance/romantic comedy/chicklit/women’s fiction novel.

Shari Jones needs to get a life. Preferably someone else’s.

Single, homeless and jobless, Indo-American Shari agrees to her best friend’s whacky scheme: travel to Mumbai, pose as Amrita, and ditch the fiancé her traditional Indian parents have chosen. Simple. Until she’s mistaken for a famous Bollywood actress, stalked by a Lone Ranger wannabe, courted by an English lord, and busted by the blackmailing fiancé.

Life is less complicated in New York.

Or so she thinks, until the entourage of crazies follows her to the Big Apple and that’s when the fun really begins. Shari deals with a blossoming romance, an addiction to Indian food and her first movie role, while secretly craving another trip to the mystical land responsible for sparking her new lease on life. Returning to her Indian birthplace, she has an epiphany. Maybe the happily-ever-after of her dreams isn’t so far away?

Think ‘Sex and the City’ meets ‘Eat, Pray, Love.’

With food. Loads of food!

And that’s what I’m sharing during my 3 week blog tour, my love of Indian food.  I’m posting Indian recipes for dishes taken from the book.

Today’s BOLLY-BITE recipe is a firm favourite of mine.  BAIGAN BHARTA (smoky spiced eggplant) is delicious served with rice or flatbreads. Lovely soft, mushy texture for kids too.

(Like most recipes, there are many different versions. This one is my mum’s.)

BAIGAN BHARTA

Ingredients

2 medium eggplants

1 finely chopped onion

1 finely chopped tomato

1 chopped green chilli

1 inch fresh ginger grated

2 tspns ground cumin

2 tspns ground coriander

½ tspn garam masala

½ tspn tumeric

8 tbspns oil

Salt to taste

4 tbspns finely chopped coriander

Fresh coriander for garnishing

(Serves 4-6)

Method:

Roast the eggplants by holding them over a medium gas flame or heating under a grill, frequently turning, until skin blackened on all sides.

Wait until cool, peel off charred skin.

Roughly chop/mash the flesh.

Heat oil over medium heat, add onion, ginger and green chilli, fry until onion golden brown. Add spices, stir for a minute, then add tomato and cook until tender.

Add the eggplants, stirring through the spice mixture, and simmer for 10 minutes or until eggplants soft.

Stir through finely chopped coriander, season with salt.

Serve garnished with fresh coriander.

 To discover what other tasty treats are coming up in BOLLY-BITES, follow the tour. Oh, and read the book!

Baigan Bharta is one of my favourite vegetable meals.

To win an E-book of BUSTED IN BOLLYWOOD, leave a comment about your favourite vegetarian dish.

 USA TODAY bestseller Nicola Marsh has published 30 books with Harlequin Romance and Presents series, and BUSTED IN BOLLYWOOD is her first mainstream contemporary romance with Entangled Publishing.

She loves chatting with readers and you can find her:

 Website

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Busted in Bollywood can be purchased at: Amazon  Barnes and Noble  Book Depository