“Now that you know everything there is to know about me,” she said, licking cheesecake off her fork with a little show of tongue simply because she liked Max watching her do it, “let’s talk about you.” His smile wilted a little, much to her disappointment. “My life isn’t nearly as interesting as yours. Definitely nothing worth talking about.” “That’s silly,” she scolded. “I bet you have a lot of fascinating stuff to talk about. I mean, for starters, did you grow up in a cop family here in Dallas?” Max didn’t say anything, and for a moment, she wasn’t sure he’d heard her. Instead, he focused on his slice of cheesecake, like he was more interested in that than her. Finally, he looked up and gave another smile—only this time, it lacked humor. “No, I didn’t grow up in Texas. I was born in Las Vegas and lived there until I was eighteen,” he said quietly. “My family was…well, let’s just say it was about as far as you can get from a cop family. To put things in proper perspective, if one or two events in my life had gone slightly different, you’d be sitting at the table…

Winter is peeking around the corner in most parts of the nation but here in sunny Florida, fall is just another growing season. We’ve already produced quite a few lemons from our tree and I’m ready to start digging in the dirt again to see if we can grow more tomatoes and peppers for my husband’s yummy salsa. Cozy mysteries about organic planting and farms always appeal to me when I’m planting (or even thinking about planting) as they offer me tips, encouragement, and an entertaining mystery in the process, particularly long-running series that make me feel like I’m sitting down with old friends for a cup of tea. One of the first cozy mysteries I remember reading that featured gardening was THYME OF DEATH by Susan Wittig Albert. Long before going healthy and organic was popular and you could find a Whole Foods or Trader Joe’s in almost every major city, the heroine, China Bayles, appeared on the scene as a high-powered attorney who left her job to open an herb shop. China has her own garden next to her store, Thyme and Seasons Herb Company, and it’s a place I’ve enjoyed visiting off and on over the years…

By Miranda Owen As a fan of romance novels, and somebody who loves making lists, I’m instantly drawn to the many “Best of…” book lists that come out as the year draws to a close. I’d thought about doing one that encompasses the entire year, but then I was struck by how many fabulous books have been published just this fall alone. With each new book I read, the list of books that have blown my mind kept growing. I’ve read some amazing books by a few of my favorite authors, but I’ve also been lucky enough to stumble on one or two books by authors whose books I haven’t read in the past. Three books by new-to-me authors are: WHAT THE EARL NEEDS NOW by Michelle Willingham, A DARING ARRANGEMENT by Joanna Shupe, and A DUKE IN SHINING ARMOR by Loretta Chase. Based on other readers’ recommendations, I read and enjoyed LORD OF SCOUNDRELS by Loretta Chase, but I hadn’t gotten around to reading another book by her until now. I was initially drawn to A DUKE IN SHINING ARMOR because of the runaway bride theme. After a page or two, the delightful witty banter had me hooked. Watching…

Georgian England was a place and time of excitement and wonder. Lots of changes going. Lots of money flowing around England. Lots of crime and inventions. But, you know what interests me? The little things about daily life during the period of the four King Georges—not *gasp* the fashions. I know. That’s sacrilege for a historical romance reader since most people want the gorgeous gowns. I like clothes, but the day to day goings on excite me more. So, let’s try something. I’ll list 5 Facts About Georgian England (the time period of the Midnight Meetings series), and you tell me which fact(s) are new to you and which are old news: The Royal Academy of Arts was founded in 1768 by 34 artists in Piccadilly. Of those 34 artists, 2 were women: Mary Moser and Angelica Kauffman. To celebrate, a group portrait was commissioned to be painted in the Academy’s great hall. But, the women weren’t allowed to stand (or sit) for the group portrait. Only the men. The women were allowed to hang their self-portraits on the wall behind the men. The artist painted their portrait into the group painting. Hmmmm…adds credence to, “Behind every great man, there…

Verity Sinclair looked around the opulent drawing room, drinking in every detail of the decor and the fashionable crowd. She had to resist an urge to pinch herself to prove she was actually here, and not dreaming. It had taken her five endless years to convince her parents that she should have a London season. They hadn’t been able to see the point of it, no matter what advantages she brought forward. Papa and Mama were quietly happy living in a cathedral close and being held up as models of decorum for the whole bishopric. Verity, on the other hand, often thought she’d go mad within those staid confines. She sighed. She loved her parents dearly, but for most of her life she’d felt like a grasshopper reared by ants. Indeed, at age eight, she’d shocked her parents by asking if she was adopted. She hadn’t meant to hurt their feelings or to imply any lack of affection. Their differences had just seemed so marked. Mama and Papa relished routine; Verity yearned for adventure. They read scholarly tomes; she pored over Robinson Crusoe and accounts of the voyages of Captain Cook. They preferred solitude or the company of a few…

Thank you Fresh Fiction fans for inviting me to join you and helping celebrate the release of book #2 in my Rakes of St. James trilogy, TO THE DUKE, WITH LOVE. Usually, I’m thinking about how to thicken my plot with twists and turns, drama, and romance the way I did in TO THE DUKE, WITH LOVE. My main ingredient is a rake of the highest order, add a spoonful of a heroine who took a vow to never marry, and a dash of street kid who sneaks into her life, steals her heart as well as some valuable things and you have a thick plot. But it’s December. It’s damp, and chilly. And time to think about making a pot of my favorite homemade soup. Beef and veggie. Unlike my mother, who was a wizard in the kitchen and could have made Styrofoam taste good, I don’t always, okay seldom, cook from scratch and use a recipe or fresh ingredients. It takes too long to wash all the veggies, peel them, and then cut or dice them. No, I’d rather be writing. So even though it takes a lot of thought and time for my plot to thicken when…

Over the past two years, I have spent considerable time in the company of the inspiring historical women at the heart of my two novels THE THE OTHER EINSTEIN and CARNEGIE’S MAID, and although the women hail from different times and different places, they have taught me countless shared lessons. Sometimes their instruction focuses upon the writing process — the particular conundrums inherent in writing historical fiction — and sometimes their tutelage concerns life itself. Whittling that voluminous list of lessons down to five is a daunting task, but I hope their teachings resonate. Lesson 1 One of the delights and challenges in writing historical fiction is the research material, which can be simultaneously overwhelming and sparse. This might seem contradictory, but if you’ve ever gone down a historical rabbit role in search of a specific answer, only to emerge with an abundance of information about a seemingly fruitful, but ultimately tangential topic and nothing that answers your original question, then you know what I mean. One of my favorite authors — Kate Atkinson — has some excellent advice on this problem, which I’ve adopted with modifications in my own writing process. I begin by immersing myself deeply in the…

When he fixes something When he’s not afraid to model…nude. When he cleans. Or cooks. Or even better…cooks and THEN cleans. When he loves the things you love, and supports your art.   When he makes you laugh Spoiler alert: In A Cruel Kind of Beautiful, Jacob does ALL of these things… A CRUEL KIND OF BEAUTIFUL by Michelle Hazen Sex, Love, and Rock and Roll #1 If you can’t get to the Big O, can you get to the happily ever after? Jera McKnight loves music, swoons for hot guys, but sucks at sex. Jacob Tate is her perfect storm: a pun-loving nude model with a heart as big as his record collection. When a newspaper-delivery accident lands him in her living room, he’s almost tempting enough to make her forget she’s never been able to please a man–in bed or out of it. Sure, he laughs at her obscure jokes, and he’ll even accept a PG-rating if it means he gets time with her, but he’s also hiding something. And it has everything to do with the off-limits room in his apartment. Jera pours all her confusion and longing into her drum kit, which pays off when her…

My favorite scene is SWIMMING IN THE PACIFIC. EXCERPT: Lights from the buoy and boat filtered down, and Kerry could see the surface of waves above them. The eerie light permeated the kelp bed, catching the creatures inside unawares. A unique forest full of sea life skittered around, tickling her and making her giddy as they passed by. There was such a humbling feeling of grandeur in the ocean. You could know everything and nothing, but witness it all the same. Her fingers touched the tall stalks of giant kelp—Macrocystis pyrifera—as they wavered in the ocean current like corn stalks in a strong breeze. She slid her fingers along part of their length. This stuff was harvested throughout the coast and used in a variety of products. It was so big here, she wondered if anyone knew about this particular prize cache. She certainly wasn’t going to tell them. Diving down, she felt along the rocky bottom and recognized bull kelp. A soupfin shark swam by, its tail touching her briefly. She wondered what else lived beyond the light. EXPERIENCE: Water is my favorite compound. I developed a love of swimming at a very early age and feel a very…

The summer after I graduated from high school was one of the most romantic I’ve known. Something about the air. The heat. The freedom. The caught-between-childhood-and-adulthood space. That summer, I cut a clipping out of a magazine article titled, “Why summer romances are the best romances,” and it encapsulated the same feelings I had and have about travel romances. The briefness of the period of time. The heightened sense of awareness when all your senses are on hyperdrive. And on that note, the heightened sense of urgency because you know you_only_have_so_much_time. Soyouhavetohurryandfallinlovefast!!! With the added bonus of not having to worry about fallout the way we do in regular high school or college. Have a fight and break up with your BF/GF? You have to see them every day. But after a whirlwind love affair on a tropical island, you leave, tucking an Ed Sheeran song-worthy photo in your pocket, and soft, sexy memories in your heart and voila! It’s done. The exciting urgency in WHERE I FOUND YOU, and the tough question the novel begs is, “What if your temporary love is your real forever.” And he lives on the other side of the world. THUNK. Those romances have…