Category Archives: Family Saga

A New Year, a New Attitude

I haven’t been able to post this piece this week because of the beginning round of Candy Hearts releases that have hit like a giant wave. Reviews are coming in all over the place and it seems everyone loves the series, so yea!

Late December I had a kind of epiphany. Since my retirement, I’ve basically been a hermit in my own home, writing 8-10 hrs most days and seeing no one for days at a time except for my husband. I’ve said “No” to lunches with friends, dinner dates with my husband, and shopping trips. I told two boards of directors “No” when they asked me to join their organizations, and I canceled two writing conference trips because I just didn’t want to leave home. I didn’t even decorate for Christmas this year because we were going to be out of town for the holiday.

Hermit, much?

In December, I realized I was isolating myself and although this may be good for me  the writer, it wasn’t good for me the person.

So.

I made myself a promise. Instead of knee-jerking “no” to everything when asked, I would make 2016 the year of “yes.” Yes I can, Yes I will, Yes I do.

Now, I’ve had a few people tell me this is dangerous because you need to know where to draw the line at saying yes. Don’t worry. I’m not saying yes to anything harmful, dangerous, illegal or immoral! I am saying yes to opportunities, friendships, and to helping others.

By saying “Yes” I’ve become my New Hampshire’s RWA chapter secretary this year.

By saying “Yes” I’ve volunteered to be a judge at this year’s Dancing with the Keene Stars in April. ( I was a contestant last year)

By saying “Yes” I joined a gym and am now working out and talking to actual, live people instead of my characters, 5 days per week.

By saying “Yes” I feel as if a giant weight has been lifted from my body. I’m smiling more, and I genuinely feel happier.

It’s amazing what a three letter word can do for, and to, a person.

Happy New Year, and here’s to 2016, the year of  “YES…I do, I can, I will.”

And I hope you say “YES” to my new release, 3 WISHES ( A Candy Hearts Romance) when it is released on 2/8/16. It’s up for preorder now, and here’s the link.

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Valentine’s Day is chocolatier Chloe San Valentino’s favorite day of the year. Not only is it the busiest day in her candy shop, Caramelle de Chloe, but it’s also her birthday. Chloe’s got a birthday wish list for the perfect man she pulls out every year: he’d fall in love with her in a heartbeat, he’d be someone who cares about people, and he’d have one blue eye and one green eye, just like her. So far, Chloe’s fantasy man hasn’t materialized, despite the matchmaking efforts of her big, close-knit Italian family. But this year for her big 3-0 birthday, she just might get her three wishes.

 

 

 

 

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Filed under 3 Wishes, Author, Candy Hearts, Contemporary Romance, Family Saga, love, NHRWA, Romance, Romance Books, RWA, Strong Women, WIld Rose Press AUthor

If it’s Wednesday…..

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If it’s Wednesday, It’s MFRW Book Hooks! Click here to blog hop with some great authors – you just may find your next favorite writer!

I’ve got a Candy Hearts romance coming out on 2/8/16 just in time for Valentine’s Day, so here’s a little sumthin’ sumthin’ to whet your romantic tastebuds.

I spotted him through the horde of people milling about the store. Valentine’s Day was tomorrow, and the shop was its usual day-before packed.

Gesu!

He looked even better in the bright light of day than he had in the shade of darkness. A fine line of stubble trailed up his jaw and cheeks, and he had tiny blue- tinged disks under his eyes like he’d had a late night, but, holy cow, he was still a major hunk-a-doodle.

Then he caught me looking at him. His smile came so quickly I nearly dropped the strawberries. He put up a finger and crooked it, beckoning me over.

3 Wishes, A Candy Hearts Romance, coming soon from the Wild Rose Press. Here’s the preorder link:

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Valentine’s Day is chocolatier Chloe San Valentino’s favorite day of the year. Not only is it the busiest day in her candy shop, Caramelle de Chloe, but it’s also her birthday. Chloe’s got a birthday wish list for the perfect man she pulls out every year: he’d fall in love with her in a heartbeat, he’d be someone who cares about people, and he’d have one blue eye and one green eye, just like her. So far, Chloe’s fantasy man hasn’t materialized, despite the matchmaking efforts of her big, close-knit Italian family. But this year for her big 3-0 birthday, she just might get her three wishes.

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4 more days…

Christmas is this week and, as usual, I am in a moody funk. Growing up, most of my Christmas days were spent being shuffled from one parent to another and then on to my Irish grandmother’s house for what came to be known to me as the twelfth circle of hell.  My mother was the middle of three girls, the oldest had died when I was a baby and the youngest was grandma’s absolute favorite. As was her daughter, my cousin. My mother and I were barely tolerated. We were only invited to her home simply because Irish Catholic guilt won over my grandmother each year and she didn’t want to be seen by the neighbors and those who knew her as “neglectful” of her family.

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So dumb.

The yearly torture would start on Christmas Eve when we would trek to my stepfather’s large Italian family for La Vigil. As the baby in his family, my stepfather was warmly welcomed and much loved. Not so much my mother and I. We were the ultimate interlopers, despised by his mother who never spoke in English when we were around so we wouldn’t know what she was saying about us. After taking 7 years of Italian in middle school and high, she stopped doing that when I translated then repeated  everything she’d just said about my mother’s outfit to the dinner table.

Score one for the fat Irish kid.

We’d sit through the seven courses of various fish prepared by my stepfather’s sister and mother and then we’d open gifts. My mother and I were routinely forgotten even though we’d brought presents for all of them – the dozens of children included. As a child I’d watch kid after kid open a  cool toy or get a great outfit to wear while I just sat there  ignored, jealous,  sad, presentless.

They were not the nicest people on the planet.  Not even close.

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On Christmas day I’d wake up and after a morning shipped off to my father and stepmother,( who by the way was a lovely person – my father so did not deserve her) I was brought back to my mother and stepfather and then – because neither one of them drove a car, we’d run to the bus stop so we wouldn’t miss it ( buses only ran every hour on the holiday), get to the ferry and  wait to take that ( ferries also only ran every hour and somehow they were never timed with buses.) Off the ferry and then two long subway rides and a half mile walk to grandma’s fourth-floor walkup apartment. And when I say walk up, I mean it. No elevator.

By now it would be about three-thirty and the drinking would be in full swing, having started at the noon hour. Something would always cause an argument between my mother and hers, which many times ensued in the three of us leaving before dinner was served, or in the police being summoned by a neighbor who’d heard the shouting. Sometimes, we’d actually make it to dinner and presents before a blow-up would start.

I’m telling you this because I’m trying to explain why the holiday season has never been fun for me and why, when I write about families  now, I always depict them as being loving, accepting, and actually liking one another.

It was the opposite way I grew up, you see. Every year I asked Santa  for siblings to share with, parents who loved me, grandparents who spoiled me and a socio-economic situation that did not include the cops knowing our phone number  by sight when it was dialed into the police station. When these things didn’t materialize under the tree – or in my life – I imagined them. The families in my imagination were warm, funny, sweet and sober. Tables didn’t get flipped in anger, food didn’t get tossed at a crying child and the police dealt with real criminals.

These families lingered in my mind until I started committing them to paper and into my novels, where they bring me joy.

So.

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My grandmothers – Irish and Step-Italian – are long dead, and I have no contact with their families any longer. It was a mutual divorce on both our counts. I have my own wonderful family to spend the holiday with now, and am finally able to spend Christmas the way I’ve always wanted: with a happy, warm, loving and accepting group of people.

I hope your holidays are spent this way as well.

Peace. Love. Joy, and A Very Merry Christmas from me to you.

And here’s a little sumthin’ sumthin’ coming on the next major holiday : VALENTINE’S DAY: The CandyHearts Series. Click and see all the covers starting on January 4, 2016. And here’s a little hint – mine is releasing on 2/8/16. Enjoy.

 

 

 

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#MFRWBookHooks Valentine’s Day is just around the corner…

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This is the weekly #MFRWBookHooksBlogStop. Click on this link and visit other fabulous authors who are part of this worthwhile BlogHop. You just may find your next favorite author!

I know Christmas is still 3 weeks away and I’m already on to Valentine’s day, but I’ve got a new release dropping 2/8/16 called 3 Wishes and I can’t wait for you all to meet Chole San Valentino and her family.This family is as near and dear to me as my own! Enjoy a little sumthin’ sumthin’ from the book.

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Blurb: Valentine’s Day is chocolatier Chloe San Valentino’s favorite day of the year. Not only is it the busiest day in her candy shop, Caramelle de Chloe, but it’s also her birthday. Chloe’s got a birthday wish list for the perfect man she pulls out every year: he’d fall in love with her in a heartbeat, he’d be someone who cares about people, and he’d have one blue eye and one green eye, just like her. So far, Chloe’s fantasy man hasn’t materialized, despite the matchmaking efforts of her big, close-knit Italian family. But this year for her big 3-0 birthday, she just might get her three wishes.

Excerpt:

As I slipped the broken lock open, an errant page fell out and drifted down to the tabletop. I grabbed it and saw the date: my fifteenth birthday. As I had for every birthday since my eighth, I’d written down three wishes. All of them had to do with a guy. My dream guy. I’d wished he’d have one blue eye and one green, just like I had so I wouldn’t be the only freak I knew, he’d be a healer (I was big on watching reruns of old television shows like Marcus Welby, M.D. and E.R. at this age) and he’d fall in love with me in an instant.

Hey, I was fifteen.

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NaNoWriMo-done-o! 11/30

It’s official: another November has come and gone and along with it NaNoWriMo.

 

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By midnight tonite  hundreds of thousands of writers around the globe who have been participating in what is charmingly called “NaNo Word Wars” will stop typing, lay down their pens, surrender their pencils and hit Save, then Submit  and verify into the NaNo site to confirm they have at least written 50,000 words of a work in progress.

So, if you participated where did you wind up today? 50,000 words? More? Less? Were you able to write every day, at least a few words, or did you fall into plot holes, POV problems, or just plain writing inertia somewhere along the way? Or did your everyday life and the responsibilities and obligations that go along with it get in the way of your writing? Don’t be upset if you didn’t make the mark for whatever reason. The fact you tried and got something down makes you a winner in my book.

50,000 words is a lot. A. Lot. Figuring that most romance novels fall between 65,000 and 90,000, 50 K could be considered almost done with your next novel.  And novellas can top off between 25 and 35,000.

I made my goal during the third week because I was on a role and have no other life but writing. No kids home to disturb me, and a husband who works 90+ hours per week, leaves me with a great deal of time to do this. And luckily, the book I was working on is the fifth in a series so I knew my characters and where I wanted to take them fairly well. Plus, I’m a plotter. Enough said.

Congratulations on the effort, the success, and the blood, sweat and tears for this year’s challenge. Onward to 2016. It’s only 365 days away!

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Giving Thanks for so much…

One of the great things about being an Ameican ( and the list really is endless!) is the holiday we celebrate that is uniquley ours: Thanksgiving.

We all have individual reasons to be thankful, and if each person in America were asked, I’m sure each answer would be different. My Wild Rose Press sistah Angela Hayes is celebrating the month by having authors tell why they are thankful. I was one of the lucky ones  asked to share my thoughts and I’d like to expound on those here, today.

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First and foremost I am thankful to be loved by a remarkable family. I have been in love with the same man since the day I met him thirty-two years ago and that love has only grown stronger and richer every day. I am proud and blessed to have a daughter who is the total embodiment of all that is good in the world. The fact that these two remarkable people love me warms my heart daily.

I am thankful to live in a country where I can be anything or anyone I want to be, say anything I want to say without the threat of prosecution, and worship the God I desire without the fear or threat of persecution. Believe me, if you lived in other countries, you would know these freedoms do not exist.

Lastly, I am thankful God put the dream in me to be a writer. Writing brings joy and gladness to my heart on a daily basis, and again, if I didn’t live in America, I might be ale to write the kinds of stories I do and have them be seen by the populous.

So eat some turkey, have some pie, and visit with friends and families. And always remember to be thankful. It doesn’t have to be only on this day every year. You can and should be thankful every day of your life….just don’t eat pumpkin pie every day!

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My Sexy Saturday #119

mysexySatWelcome to the 119th week of My Sexy Saturday.  This week’s theme: Imagine Sexy   Click on this link to see the slew of sexy writing authors on this blog hop. Who knows…you might find your next favorite author.

This week’s theme is Imagine Sexy. As writers of sexy books, we have all imagined sexy. Whether he comes riding in on a horse or in a space ship, we know sexy. We know how it looks, we know how it tastes and feels and the sounds associated with sexy. We can imagine each and every one of them. And this week we want you to share what you’ve imagined as an author about sexy. Readers can’t wait to read more about your sexy imagination.

Sexy can be anything, such as romantic moments like walks on the beach, a home cooked meal or even in another galaxy. It could be two lovers here on Earth dreaming about the day where they go on a magical vacation to another planet. Or staying right here at one of those wonderful places we can find in our own world.

Readers want to see those characters, the ones who can’t get enough of each other as well as ones who are fighting their way back to being part of the world once again. These are the types of characters they can’t forget, the one they want to take home and keep forever. Readers love the kisses, the looks or touch of each and every one of our characters.

Sexy has nothing to do with looks or status or even wealth. It doesn’t demand perfection and it isn’t pretentious but it does make us want to read those books.

We know that everyone has their own idea of sexy and we all love sexy!

Here’s a little sumthin sumthin’ from my newest release FIRST IMPRESSIONS. 

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From the doorway, he went unnoticed as his eyes scanned the room. His mother was at the stove, his father next to her, his arms crossed over his chest, listening intently to something Alastair was saying. Dennis Cleary, Pat’s other brother, home for the weekend from college, sat at the table in conversation with Quentin Stapleton. His brand new wife, Moira, Pat’s twin sister, stood next to him. Each sported a deep tan and Moira had one hand on her husband’s shoulder, her hip snuggled against him, as she spoke with Clarissa Rogers.

The good doctor’s attention was focused on his sister, a small smile dancing across her utterly desirable and kissable mouth. A mouth he’d almost kissed yesterday in the hallway of her clinic.

Pat remembered in graphic detail how the thought to take those lips with his had blossomed in his mind while they’d been speaking about his father. Her perfect mouth was plump and naturally pink, and all he could think about was what it would taste and feel like against his own.

Clarissa had mistaken his momentary lust-filled lapse for something else, and worry for him had quickly risen in her eyes. He’d pleaded a quick retreat to save himself further embarrassment, when in truth, he’d wanted nothing more than to stand there, all afternoon, and be with her.

As she stood so casually in his parent’s kitchen, Pat was struck with the notion she looked like she belonged there, with his family, as one of them.

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Winner, winner, Chicken dinner?

So two days ago I WON NaNoWriMo. And by won  I mean I got to the minimum 50,000 words for the month. And I still have two weeks to go in the month of November. That doesn’t mean I’m stopping; no. I’m not done with the story yet. In fact, I may need another 25-30 k to finish it to my satisfaction.

So, what exactly, did I win?

Well, first and foremost I’ve got the guts of a really good storyline down on the laptop. Yes, it will need editing, and yes, it will probably wind up being a total of between 60 and 70,ooo words when all is done. And yes, I’m sure there are plot holes, character problems, and even very bad grammar ( hey, this is me, after all!), but the fact that I have the major guts of the story down is a win in my book.

I also think it’s a win that I worked on the story every day for multiple hours a day. I didn’t get distracted, or work on something else, or go shopping. The last one really hurt, too.

It’s also a win that I participated in something so worthwhile, and in so doing, encouraged other writers in the same boat as me. Misery loves company, it’s said, but I think camaraderie and sharing a similar goal is much more descriptive of our November endeavor.

So, have you won yet? If not, how many words to go? Remember, even 100 words a day is 100 more than you had yesterday.

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Commitment…

This past weekend I was in Las Vegas with my husband and our daughter. They were both registered to run 13.1 miles ( 1/2 marathon) of the Las Vegas Marathon. To anyone who has every attempted even a 5k race, you know the most important part of the marathon is the preparation for it.

My husband is a lifelong runner, my daughter relatively new to the sport, so they prepared in different ways. Both finished exceptionally well, especially for the horrendous weather conditions at the start and end of the race, and both were fine the following day – a little tired, a tad stiff, but no major problems. Their dedication to finishing the race upright and in a certain time frame made me very proud as a wife and mother, and it re-instilled in me my own dedication to writing.

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Why writing, you ask? What’s one got to do with the other? Well, I’ll tell you.

Training for the race required a daily commitment to running. A training schedule of increasing miles per day, and then a rest day thrown in, helped with the endurance needed for the long haul. Eating well, at certain times, and foods high in protein and nourishment, allowed their bodies to be at peak performance to withstand the grueling conditions and the long time length the run required. This was no sprint. Muscle training with weights strengthened  them to endure the pounding their bodies would take with each stride and sprint.  All of this took time, dedication, commitment, and mental focus.

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Much the same way writing a novel takes.

You don’t sit down at the laptop and write 75,000 words in one day. Even NaNoWriMo allows you 30 days to write 50,000. No, you write a certain number of words every day, all adding to the gist of the storyline. I once heard Nora Roberts describe why she writes every single day ( like I do.) She said, and I’m paraphrasing, writing is like using a muscle. When you don’t exercise it, it atrophies  or weakens and it takes much longer to get it back in shape. To write every day keeps the brain fresh and the storyline clear. Setting out to write a novel takes focus and dedication even when you fall into a plot hole or don’t know where you’re going next.  You keep moving forward toward the end. Your brain needs to be nourished and healthy just as your body does, to be able to form coherent sentences and remember where you’re going with the plot.

So marathon running and novel writing are more alike than you’d think. And in the end, one will earn you a medal, and both with give you the satisfaction of a job well done.

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MFRW Book Hooks Wednesday

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It’s Wednesday and besides being Prince Spaghetti day, it’s MFRW Book Hooks. Click on this link to see the other MFRW authors participating, read their blogs and maybe you’ll find your new favorite author.

Here’s a little snippet from my debut romance novel SKATER’S WALTZ.

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When Tiffany declares her feelings for Cole, he’s anything but receptive…

Heat oozed from her body as she glowered at him. “And to think,” she said, glaring hard at his laughing face, her voice quiet and tight, “I fell hopelessly, endlessly in love with you that day. I should have known you’d turn out to be such a creep. What a waste my life has been, pining after you, waiting for you to notice me, longing after you with every breath. God, what a moron …”

Tiffany stopped. Mouth agape, eyes wide and clear, she stopped tugging on the towel and opened her hand in surrender.

Cole didn’t let go of her wrist. He couldn’t, not after what she’d just confessed. Her face had gone pale again, her lips turning to chalk. He dropped the ring back to its chain and saw it glinting in the light, lying over the small upsweep of her breasts made bare by their struggle. Breasts he suddenly felt an intense need to cup, kiss, and nuzzle.

He didn’t know how to respond. Her words were true; there was no doubt about it. No explanation necessary.

“Tiffany, I…don’t know what to say.”

With a jagged breath, she threw back her head. Choking on a sob, she told him, “You don’t have to say anything, Cole. Really.”

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