I have a confession. OK, I probably have a lot of them. For the sake of this blog post though, we’re focusing on the fact that I’m an utter moron when it comes to movies and television. I lack the attention span for either one, so when I’m asked the inevitable, “which actors and actresses do you imagine playing your characters in the movie version of your book?” I freeze. I was asked to blog about this a few weeks ago at The Debutante Ball, and spent hours browsing online so I wouldn’t look like a complete idiot. I eventually came up with a photo of a younger, curly-haired Meg Ryan and another shot of Pierce Brosnan. It was as close as I could come to my mental picture of my heroine and hero from MAKING WAVES. A friend emailed right away to remark on my choices. “Um, have you actually seen any movies in the last ten years?” Define “seen.” Does falling asleep halfway through count? So my friend helped me assemble a cast list I must grudgingly admit is much better than mine. Here are the ideas… Juli, my plucky, spunky, smart-as-a-whip heroine: Kate Hudson. This actually makes…

My life this year so far has been something of a blur, starting with the release of MIDNIGHT CALLER, my debut novel, in early February. Looking back, I don’t think I’d been fully prepared for the breakneck pace of writing a three-book series with a planned release of a novel every six months! Writing, revising, going over galleys and promotional work (much of it happening at the same time) for multiple books has required me to embrace my inner multi-tasker. It’s August, and promotional activities are once again in full swing – this time for MIDNIGHT FEAR, book two in the Chasing Evil trilogy, which was released early this month. With all three books now completed, I’ve made a commitment to myself to breathe and try to take it all in this time. To relax some and enjoy the view. As a new author, I can’t tell you the thrill of bringing characters that previously existed only in one’s heart and head to life. MIDNIGHT FEAR introduces Reid Novak, another agent working for the FBI’s Violent Crimes Unit, and Caitlyn Cahill, a former D.C. socialite who played a prominent role in bringing a serial killer to justice two years earlier….

I’m a list-maker. I love making lists and crossing items off them. And yes, I’ll admit to adding items that I’ve just completed to the list for the sole purpose of crossing them off. My problem lately, however, is that I’m drowning in my cherished lists. There’s a lot of good stuff going on in my world, and it’s been a busy year-and I’m not complaining. I’m grateful to be able to do all I’m doing. I’ve just had my debut mystery novel published, which means I’m doing lots of promotion and online networking. I’m (theoretically) working on the next book. In addition, I have a day job, and I volunteer for two annual literary events. And then there’s the rest of life, including food, shelter, family, husband, husband’s career, rental property we own, and so on. Believe me, lists help, and I have a lot of them. But then there are the days when I feel like my head will explode from everything That. I. Must. Do. Rationally, I know I can’t do everything. That some of my lists-particularly those to do with book promotion-represent everything I could possibly do, not everything I will do or need to do….

I was in elementary school when my mother taught me to sew. The first big project I made completely on my own, a dress, was hard, definitely, but I am nothing if not dogged and focused when I put my mind to something. The pattern had the option of using two coordinating fabrics which I decided to attempt. I made the whole thing from scrap pieces from my mother’s ample collection.  I worked for hours and hours on that dress, even adding buttons up the straight skirt. I was so proud of myself, but what I remember most is how proud my mom was. That was the beginning of a lifelong love of sewing. Fast-forward thirty-something years. I still sew, but my five kids, my former career as a teacher, and my current career as a full-time writer have zapped my free time. Sewing isn’t something I can do everyday or even every week. It’s one of those luxuries I fit in every chance I get.So what is a fabric-aholic, craft-lover, creative writer girl to do if she can’t actually sew as much as she’d like? Create a cozy mystery series that revolves around sewing, of course. PLEATING FOR MERCY,…

Thank you so much, Fresh Fiction, for having me here today. It’s such a pleasure to talk with your readers once again! My publisher will be giving away 2 copies of my latest release, THE LADY OF THE STORM, to a couple of lucky commenters today (U.S. & Canada mailing addresses only), and I’m looking forward to responding to the comments. A reader once told me “You paint pictures with words.” It surprised me, for I had never thought of my writing that way before, and I had to give some thought as to how I managed to do that for her. So I talked to several of my writer friends, asking them their process. I was amazed to find that we all did it differently (okay, keep in mind, this was years ago when I was still new to even being around other writers). One gal told me she would write during commercials of her favorite TV show. Another other said she wrote while her kids were at ballet or ball practice. Another said she’d hide in her bedroom and bar the door to write. One used a very detailed outline, knowing each step her character would take. Another…

What is it about a first crush? There’s something about the memory of that first boy who makes your heart flutter…that memory has power. The power to make us smile, make us blush, make us sigh for the loss of what could have been. But what if that you had a second chance at that first crush? That’s exactly what happens to the heroine of TOO HOT TO TOUCH, my new contemporary romance, Jules Cavanaugh, when her best friend’s brother comes home to help his family’s restaurant enter a high-stakes culinary competition. The only problem is, Max Lunden has been gone a long time. And while he was off learning exotic culinary techniques all over the world, Jules was working to become sous chef of Lunden’s Tavern. In fact, she’s worked really hard…and she’s not thrilled at the idea of sharing leadership of the restaurant’s Rising Star Chef team. Even with the man who *still* makes her heart flutter. So in spite of their simmering attraction, Jules is determined to play it cool…no matter how hot it gets in the kitchen! So who was your first crush? The older brother of a friend, or maybe a boy down the street?…

When I first decided to write mainstream women’s fiction with romantic elements, I was plagued by doubts. With romance comes sex. Was I capable of writing convincing love scenes? Would Indian characters wearing saris and kurtis and indulging in carnal pleasures sound realistic to my readers? I realized I would never find out unless I tried to work in a sex scene here and there—lift the sari. I could envision the scandalized looks on the faces of my conservative family and friends when they discovered that wholesome Hindu men and women were reveling in hot, glorious, mind-numbing sex in my stories. And this notwithstanding the fact that India is probably the only ancient culture that boasts a seventeen hundred year-old textbook on the art of love-making, the Kama Sutra. Erotic sculptures abound in centuries-old Indian temples, too. I wonder when Indian society turned prudish. Unlike my fellow South Asian authors, who generally write literary fiction, I had never truly enjoyed the slice-of-life type of fiction I was forced to read for my English literature classes in college. Even the rare love scene was a work of lyrical beauty but sadly lacking in sizzle. I was always a romance reader, in…

I was talking to my critique partner the other day, discussing my characters (I was having a crisis or more to the point, my character was), and when I paused, she said, “You know they aren’t real, right?” “Who aren’t?” I asked. “Your characters.” I hyperventilated. Was she kidding? No, she wasn’t. I live a very strange life. I interact with people who really don’t exist, not in our tangible world, but I have to believe they exist in order to create a believable story. Yeah, wrap your brain around that one. So yes, I know they don’t exist in flesh and blood, but they do exist, are real in my head. They have to be. Their worries and loves and troubles and triumphs have to matter to me. I have to want the best and the worst for them otherwise they’ll exist in a boring, staid story that I, let alone anyone else, won’t want to experience. That is the entertainer in me talking. It’s this little voice in the back of my brain that giggles when I come up with a sick idea that will cause my characters no end of torture. It sighs with pleasure every time…

Hi everyone and thank you to Fresh Fiction for inviting me to blog today. It’s lovely to be here! Ever since my Scandalous Women of the Ton Series launched last year I’ve been asked by readers just how authentic is the historical background to the series. We are accustomed to think that women’s lives in the late 18th and early 19th century were very circumscribed. Diaries and the novels and letters of authors such as Jane Austen suggest as much; Jane, for example, though a mature woman, could not travel if there was not a male family member available to accompany her. Such were the rules and regulations of society. But of course where there are rules there are always women willing to break them. It was these exceptions that I wanted to explore in my series. Each of the Scandalous Women of the Ton books features a heroine who has done something that outrages society in a different way. In WHISPER OF SCANDAL Lady Joanna Ware travels to Spitsbergen in Northern Norway. Foreign travel was considered quite beyond the pale in a woman and even unfeminine and indelicate. Yet Lady Joanna was based on a real life lady traveller,…

When I first started writing towards publication, I had two sons under the age of three. During the day, I was working as a freelance feature writer for a local newspaper but at night, while my husband worked the nightshift at the same paper, I would write. My oldest would go to bed at 8 but my youngest wasn’t as predictable. I can remember nights sitting at my computer, rocking my youngest to sleep in his carrier with my foot while I typed as quietly as I could. As my sons got older and went school, my writing time expanded. But since I was still writing for the newspaper, I had to learn how to hit all my deadlines without going crazy. If you would see my desk, you’d know I’m not an organized person (my husband is laughing hysterically at my understatement).  But I’ve had to learn how to juggle multiple assignments, including book deadlines and newspaper deadlines. When my guys were younger and my husband still worked every night, I would lug my trusty battered IBM Thinkpad to soccer practice, baseball games, basketball practice, swim meets and karate lessons. I could write surrounded by screaming kids at the…