Scattered Thoughts, Random Musings

I f you never learn the language of gratitude, you will never be on speaking terms with happiness.     The last is a father and mother kissing their dying little girl goodbye. If you are wondering why all the medic people are bowing: in less than an hour, two small children in the next room are able to live thanks to the little girl's kidney and liver.  

Romance Junkies is throwing a month long Halloween Contest and you're all invited! You can entered to win a $5 Amazon gift card and a free e-copy of my debut novella, Because You Love Me . Simply click on the icon on the right, read an except from my novella, and answer my trivia question.   Here's how to play: To enter contests for the newsletter, the contestant must send an email to entercontest@romancejunkies.com with the author's or publisher's name in the subject line. Answer the trivia question and please include your mailing address so if you're chosen, we can email the author immediately. Each prize entry must be a separate email sent with the above information.   There are more author's to discover and goodies to win. Click here to find them. (Hint, I'm the wolf with the party blower...)     Contest ends November 29, 2012    

Today marks the 6-month release anniversary of my debut novella,  Because You Love Me. And what better way to celebrate then with my first author interview with author, Nett Robbens! Please stop by and check out my take on "Love, Plotting, and 'New Age' Publishing" . And if you haven't already, check out Sabrina and Jake's story !  

Secret Cravings authors come from all around the world... Can you guess where? Can you guess what state I'm originally from?    "Occasionally referred to as New York's 6th borough..."    "Notorious criminals have known to come from, pass-thru, or live there..."    "Home to space shuttles, gators, and the most popular mice on the planet..." Leave a comment below with your best guess and those with the correct answer will be entered into a drawing to win a free copy of my novella, Because You Love Me . Also, click on the map to hop over to the other SCP author blogs and take your guess. Each author is giving away a prize so don't miss out! Sabrina Monroe and Jake Landon are caught in a tug of war between love and trust... A hurt Sabrina wants nothing more than to forget about Jake and the fierce love they once shared. A wary yet determined Jake wants to bury the past and start anew. When old feelings and desires are rea...

The Winchester brothers are back - finally! And to celebrate tonight's premiere of Supernatural Season 8 , I've listed 8 of my favorite lines/quotes from some of the show's dynamic characters. Gotta love great dialogue. Enjoy! "I'm gonna fry her up extra-crispy." -Dean "Idjit." -Bobby "Your peanut butter has been in my chocolate for far too long." -Crowley " Son-na-va-BITCH!" -Dean "Yeah Dean, I think 6 seconds is too soon." -Sam "Balls" -Bobby "Death is our bitch." -Dean " Bollucks." -Crowley What's your favorite??

Thanks for stopping by and reading another excerpt from my short romance, The Flower Queen . Enjoy! ~~~~~~~~ The pounding came again and Gina jumped out of the bed. She was still a bit disoriented but ran to the door. The cool air of the hotel room brushed against her bare skin and she realized she was just about to answer the door in her underwear. She stopped at the closet and grabbed the robe hanging alone inside. The pounding came again as she belted the sash. “Coming!” she shouted. There had better be a fire, she thought disgruntled. Gina swung the door open and her heart skipped then dropped. She was now fully awake but words escaped her. Gabe stepped into the room, forcing her to move back then shut the heavy hotel door behind him. He appeared disheveled, a shadow of a beard forming on his hard, chiseled jaw. His clear gray eyes held a hard glint as frustration emanated from him. And despite her conflicting emotions, her body still ached for him in a way that ...

I've been tagged by Cindy Christiansen  to answer 10 questions about my next work-in-progress. Enjoy! About your "Next Big Thing"... What is the working title of your book? Autumn Rising (Book 1 of the Rose Sisters series) Where did the idea come from for the book? I can't exactly remember, but these unique sisters came to me and I had to write their story What genre does your book fall under? Contemporary romance, with paranormal an d suspensful elements :) Which actors would you choose to play your characters in a movie rendition? Aisha Tyler as AJ Rose and Gerard Butler as Jon Boyd What is the one-sentence synopsis of your book? When AJ Rose decides to reopen her aunt's old bed and breakfast, she enlists the services of a one-man crew: Jon Boyd. Will your book be self-published or represented by an agency? Haven't decided yet... How long did it take you to write the first draft of your manuscript? Took two months to outline ...

After a 6-month hiatus, I'm glad to be back creating new stories for Tuesday's Tales! Below is an excerpt from my new short, The Flower Queen. This week's writing prompt is finger . ~~~~~~~~ She felt like a fool. Seeing the evidence of his betrayal left a rancid feeling in the pit of her stomach. If she hadn’t forgotten to eat lunch, she would have been sick. Gina stared at the picture, taken two months ago, of the smiling couple. It had accompanied the short email that had just come into her inbox. In no uncertain terms it basically read: Stay away from my husband . She deleted the photo from her screen and sprang up from her desk. Trying not to draw too much attention to herself, she walked calmly to the ladies room. Someone called out to her but she kept walking. The tears started to flow before she even made it into one of the bathroom stalls. She had never had her heart broken before and wasn’t used to the ache in her chest that caused the uncontrollab...

How picturesque. A beautiful scene for a cozy regency or sweet contemporary...                Picture taken at a Vineyard in Long Island

Join me and hundred of authors, readers, and general booklovers at this year's Brooklyn Book Festival . It's this Sunday, September 23rd, from 10-6pm . We will be located at booth #170 . I will be selling and signing my novella, Because You Love Me , from 12-2pm. Here are the directions to get to the festival. Directions: By car from Manhattan:   Coming over the Brooklyn Bridge, stay straight on Adams Street.  Turn right on Joralemon Street.  Turn right into the first parking lot to unload. By car from New Jersey and Staten Island: Verrazano Bridge to 278West.  Take Exit 27/Atlantic Avenue and turn onto Atlantic Avenue.  Turn left on Boerum Place. Turn left on Joralemon Street.  Turn right into first parking lot to unload. Public Transportation: 2, 3, 4, 5 to Borough Hall; R to Court Street; A, C, F to Jay Street/Borough Hall

For those who may not know, I have a really bad sweet-tooth. Mainly for the cookies/cake/ice cream variety and it almost borderlines on addition. I have no qualms about eating dessert before my dinner. In fact, I've done it more times then I can count.   And now my new obsession: Ben & Jerry's Red Velvet Cake ice cream. I don't know if it's a new flavor but it's NEW to me! And I don't know what they put in it, but it's sinfully delicious. One bite and I can't stop. And I've tried. If you haven't tried it yet, it's like cheesecake pieces blended in with red velvet cake chunks and creamy cream cheese ice cream. Delicious .   See, I realized my obsession when I found myself - having eaten only crackers and water earlier in the day (true story!) - go straight to the ice cream, despite the fact that my dinner sat staring me right in the face. I had a choice between Ben & Jerry's or honey BBQ chicken with loaded baked potato ...

Tall, dark building against a cloudy, moonlit night. The perfect backdrop for a scary movie -- or a paranormal romance... Picture taken at Bryant Park

NOW...  

Imagine walking out in a public area when you come across a young couple locked in a passionate embrace. The man's arms surrounds the woman as he expertly moves his lips across hers. You walk steadily pass them, fascinated if not a little bashful by the sight. You steal another glimpse at the affection couple only to realize the scene before you is not that of a loving couple. It more of a woman who, just by the look in her eyes, is suffering miserably through her dates sloppy kisses. Well this is a scene I got the displeasure of witnessing. It was clear to everyone except the Sloppy-Kissing Gentleman that the woman found his kissing insufferable. The entire scene just looked painfully awkward and I couldn't figure out who I was most embarrassed for. But it was clear from their interaction that no connection had been established between them. I later realized that along the way our Sloppy-Kissing Gentleman must have forgot...

Welcome all, I don't know why I feel compelled to have a blog. Maybe it's the writer in me that needs to share all my thoughts, feelings, and mental randomness out to the public - whether people care to read about it or not. I have many "hats" that I have to alternate between and so far I've got this juggling act down to a science. Yes, I miss - or neglect - things but I still mange to hang on to my sanity. And isn't that whay's really important? It's not easy, rarely ever fun, but it's interesting. So feel free to follow me on this journey, mind dump, whatever you want to call it. I promise to keep you guessing ;) -LH

Spend 10 minutes brainstorming the best, most intriguing opening lines that you can. Then pick your favorite & run with it. "I always hated it when it rained." "She didn't want to be anywhere near him when the news broke." "He could feel the strain building between them. And it wasn't in the air. It was in him pants." "Never in a million, thousand years would she have done something like that." "Today was turning out to be a son-of-a-bitch."   Follow these lines and see where they take you: “ If I could tell you just one thing about that night . . . I would have to kill you just to keep it between you, me, and him .” “ The only thing that really scares me anymore is . . . peanut butter and not-so-jelly sandwiches.” “ The first time I learned I really couldn’t fly was when . . . I had to endure the stares and snickers of everyone who witness the most embarrassing moment of ...

Two lies and a truth. What does that mean? Well it is a little something I learned at the Creative 101 Workshop at Gotham Writers by Carolyn MacCullough. You basically write down two truths and one lie about yourself or things that have happened in your life. You never reveal which is the lie but they help to get your creative juices flowing. We did some in class and I thought it was a great writing exercise! So check out my "two truths and a lie" - not in that order, hahaha! On our way to school one early morning, my little sister and I found a pile of money in small bills littered across the dew stained grass. On a work retreat to Arizona one summer, I got lost in the Arizona desert for 3 days. I once lied and said I had a hereditary illness so I could get out of work for a day. Have fun figuring out which is the lie! AND guessing what the outcome of my truths are!

Amber stared back at the midnight dark eyes that bore into her as she reached for the phone. She should have been used to the detective’s piercing gaze by now but tonight it was different. More predatory. She tore her eyes away and flipped open the cellphone. “Hello, Austin?” A grunt followed by heavy breathing vibrated through the phone. “Austin?” A chill ran through Amber’s veins when a low husky voice spoke through the phone. “No, honey, Austin's a little... preoccupied right now.” The woman on the other end spoke with slight amusement and all thought fled Amber’s mind. She gripped the phone and willed her voice to sound calm yet firm. “Where’s Austin?” The woman laughed. "Don’t worry, honey. He's alive... for now.” Amber's arm went slack and she stared at the phone as if she didn’t recognize its purpose. Marc immediately grabbed the phone from her hand and pushed a button. The woman’s cool, throaty voice filled the room. “...depends on you.” Marc shoved the pho...

Marc sat in the only chair in the small motel room. Amber, now fully clad in jeans and a simple top, sat on the bed with her leg tucked underneath her. Try as he might, he couldn't shake the sight of her smooth dark skin against the furry white towel. She had stood there, all silk and softness, and it had been like a jolt to his senses. He almost forgot his purpose there. But her exasperated sigh quickly drew him out of his daze. “Look, I'm sorry I left the station like that but like I said, I had no choice.” “Yeah you do. But you choose not to trust me.”  She shook her head, resigned. “You don't understand.” Marc sat back and studied her. She appeared anxious. And defeated. Taking another look another around the room, he couldn’t suppress the frustration that rose in him. “Is this the life you want for yourself? Being holed up in a seedy motel, constantly on the run?” The rustic bedside lamp illuminated the faded wallpaper and brown carpeting that decorated the smal...

Idiot . Marc directed the insult to himself and the woman who had him wrapped around her little finger. She had worked the helpless, desperate act well and he had fallen for it. Hook, line, and whimper. It had been easy finding her. She hadn’'t even bothered checking in under another name. Either she really so naive or she wanted him to find her. And if he could find her, then whoever was after her could too. All he had to do was flash his badge. But anyone with some extra cash and enough interest could pay for that info. He had no reason not to believe she was really in danger. His instincts told him she hadn't been lying about that. But considering how she'd played him for a fool, maybe he couldn't – shouldn't – trust his instincts where she was concerned. He stalked past a row of dim-lit motel rooms until he arrived at the lucky number. Room 409. He hesitated just outside of the door. If he pounded on the door, she could panic and try to crawl out of ...

Amber’s heart thudded against her chest as she walked out of the busy precinct into the cool California night. She couldn’t shake the image of the detective’s harsh, angry face so she tried to focus on getting as far as she can from the police station. She vaguely noted the rapid descent of the California sun and realized there had been no sense of time for her in that tiny interview room. It was getting increasing late and she began to have second thoughts about going back to her house. After what happened today, her stomach knotted at the thought of going back to her dark house, even for a second. But she had no change of clothes and more than anything, she wanted to get out of California as soon as possible. Luckily, she managed to find a cab just a short distance from the police station and gave the driver directions to her home. She promised him a nice tip if he waited for her. She even gave him half the fare upfront in case he thought she would cheat him out of his fare. H...

As soon as the doors closed behind Marc, Amber waited a few seconds then got up from her seat. Though she appreciated what the detective tried to do for her, she couldn't go with him. She had to get to Austen. She went to the door and held her breathe. She slowly turned the knob. It cracked open enough for her to peek through. The halls appeared disserted but she couldn't see beyond the row of file cabinets to confirm. She opened the door wider and stepped out of the room. Two uniform police officers walked toward her and she froze. One of the officers looked curiously at her and willed herself to relax. They couldn’t know why she was there so she plastered a smile on her face, trying not to look suspicious. She nodded to them when they came nearer and, to her great relief, they nodded back and continued pass her. She vaguely remembered the way to the elevators but couldn’t imagine herself simply strolling out of there, unnoticed. And she didn’t. This time a ...

“What are you going to do with Bennett’s sister?” Marc looked through the video monitor at Amber Bennett. She sat staring off into space, looking completely loss and alone in the interview room. She had been sitting like that since he’d left the room. So far her story checked out. Neighbors had witnessed a man fitting her attacker’s description in the area and a quick dump on her phone confirmed that she’d received a call last night during the time she’d purported to have spoken to Austen Bennett. Apparently the call came from someone in Nevada. It was lead but Marc didn’t get too excited about it. Since she wasn’t technically a suspect, he couldn’t hold her. And she wasn’t a witness so he couldn’t take her to a safe-house. It was obvious she was scared shitless, ready to do whatever her fugitive brother told her. But he couldn’t allow her to go on the run. He needed her. She was about to play a key part in his investigation. As Marc thought about it, he knew there ...

Writing Workouts By Carolyn MacCullough These are a few writing exercises that always seem to produce great results with my classes.   1. Good stories often begin with a great first line. Here are some examples: “All children, except one, grow up.” J.M. Barrie, 
 Peter Pan “It’s a funny thing about mothers and fathers. Even when their own child is the most disgusting little blister you could ever imagine, they still think that he or she is wonderful.” Roald Dahl, Matilda "By our second day at Camp Crescendo, the girls in my Brownie troop had decided to kick the asses of each and every girl in Brownie Troop 909." Z.Z. Packer, Brownies Spend ten minutes brainstorming the best, most intriguing opening lines that you can. Then pick your favorite and run with it.   2. Follow these lines and see where they take you: “If I could tell you just one thing about that night . . .” “The only thing that really scares me anymore is . . .” “Th...