As I step ever so lightly toward another birthday this week, the one that comes “after” the milestone one we all remember our parents getting to. I am reminded again of how very different perceptions of youth, not to mention birthdays can be. I honestly don’t think about growing older. I don’t think I would trade all that I have learned, for the chance to go back and relive it. Besides, I’ve far too many adventures ahead of me yet to want to return to the blossom of my youth. Nevertheless, to each his/her own; though we joke about it, I have a dear friend (who looks much younger than I look, but is, only by a month and killer genes, I’m guessing) who has made me swear I must never allow her to be placed in a nursing home. She claims *GASP-those are for old people. She isn’t going to get old. Given that, I should never have to worry seeing her in a home for the aged, since she never plans to be old. Her humor and attitude though, is what I admire and emulate. We see ourselves as an aging Thelma and Louise, making our spur of…

To paraphrase the late great John Lennon, life is what happens while you’re making other plans. To directly quote my mother—and mothers everywhere—”Don’t do as I do. Do as I say.” Both sage snippets segue albeit circuitously into my blog topic—how to write connected romance novels, or rather how not to write them, or at least how to recover from (cough, hiccup) going about it all wrong. My Men of Roxbury House trilogy—VANQUISHED, ENSLAVED, and now UNTAMED—is my first shot at writing connected books. Like anyone’s first anything, in the aftermath, there are lessons learned, battle scars to be shown off—and FYI, I’m not just in it for beads. 😉 Seriously, I don’t write like grownups do. Never have and likely never will. For starters, I don’t write sequentially, linearly, or well, in any reasonable, replicable fashion. You’ll never catch me at a writers’ conference touting my “process,” flashing charts and graphs, or God forbid, instructing others on how to write like me. If anything, I’m the textbook case for what not to do. I do it all wrong—and yet for me, it works. I write scenes out of order, the characters voicing firing off like canon shot in my…

I just finished writing the third book in my Body Movers sexy mystery series (Three Men and a Body, due out August 2008) in which the main character, Carlotta Wren, works for Neiman Marcus by day and helps her brother move bodies from crime scenes by night. Carlotta’s life is further complicated by the three men in her life: her first love, a cop who has reopened the case of her fugitive father, and her brother’s body-moving boss. For me, romance and mystery are a natural fit, because one helps to foster the other in the story. The suspense of a mystery is further heightened when the players are emotionally involved. Likewise, the romance between characters is heightened by the adrenaline pumping from the suspense scenes. Nothing gets the heart racing like danger!In writerspeak, mystery and romance make for a great intermingling of external and internal conflict. The mystery is the external conflict of the story, but if, for example, two characters are on opposite sides of solving the mystery, it makes their internal (personal) conflict more real, and more complicated. This is why I love combining the elements of mystery and romance—they are better together than on their own….

I don’t write many rakehell heroes. The hero of my upcoming book, Let Sleeping Rogues Lie, is really only my third. And why is that, you may ask? It’s simple, really. I like my heroes to have compelling reasons for what they do, and I tend to think of rakehells as skirt-chasers who just want to have fun. A guy like that is hard to reform, and if he doesn’t reform, well, I worry that he’ll go on chasing skirts after the wedding. That would certainly put a damper on the whole happily ever after thing. Still, I’ve managed to create a few by digging deeper. For Gavin Byrne in One Night with a Prince, I gave him a fear of rejection that made him skittish of anything but the most basic of physical relationships. Jordan, the Earl of Blackmore from Forbidden Lord, saw himself as unable to love. And my latest hero Anthony Dalton … Well, I’ll leave that to you to find out. But I must admit that I have a soft spot for Anthony. His chickens have come home to roost, and they’re laying eggs all over his comfortable rakehell life. He handles it pretty poorly at…

This one tiny word encompasses all from which romance novels are made. It doesn’t matter what genre, category or heat level. It all comes down to those four little letters. Now, the word itself may be small, but the concept is huge. The tiny flicker eventually turning into an all-consuming flame–now that is love…or at the very least, lust. As a romance writer, I have to admit that this fire is what sucked me into writing the genre. I love…love. The sex is great, but it is so much more than hopping in the sack. The thrill of the chase, the spark of the first kiss, the flame of the passion, and the sigh of the happily-ever-after ending make it the only category for me to read and write. There are many people who say romance is nothing but predictable, just because they end the same. I have one word for them: Duh! Mysteries end with a resolution to the mystery and horror stories are going to have gruesome scenes, yet for some reason, they generally aren’t lumped into one bunch and pooh-poohed as a whole. Writing a book is all about the presentation and figuring out how to flow…

It’s Valentine’s Day so of course the subject of the day is Romance. What is romance? Is it the perfect gift? The bouquet of flowers? The huge heart shaped box of candy? Or is it the little blue velvet (or whatever) color jewelry box from your favorite store? Seriously sappy cards? Or humorous fun ones? Before I answer or at least give my opinion, I admit to loving all of these things. I’ve been married almost 19 years and my heart still does a little leap when the florist comes. Honestly, my husband isn’t a “true romantic” and that’s okay. As long as there’s a way he remembers important dates, I’m happy.I think too much emphasis is placed on Valentine’s Day and even birthdays etc. A lot of men just aren’t wired to be romantic. Even if you’ve tried to retrain them, they just don’t think that way. Although how they can miss the T.V. commercials and radio ads is beyond me. Still, if they value you and have their own way of showing it, that should be enough. For me, I don’t need the big fancy gift or the flowers (although it’s nice when I get them.) We’re usually…

I’ll admit it. I’ve always hated Valentine’s Day. The pressure began back in first grade, when I stayed awake all night, worrying that I’d be the only kid who didn’t receive a card at the class party. The entire holiday could, in my opinion, be renamed “Unimaginative Consumer-oriented, Entirely Arbitrary and Manipulative, Shallow Interpretation of Romance Created by the Greeting Card, Florist, and Candy Industries to make you feel miserable Day.”Now, I believe in romance. I couldn’t have sustained a career for twenty-five years writing romance novels if I wasn’t a sucker for happily-ever-afters. But there’s so much pressure to have the most romantic night of the year that it’s almost always bound to fail. True romance, in my opinion, comes from those little unplanned gestures that remind you why you fell in love with the guy in the first place. But I do have one evening that will forever shimmer in my mind as a perfect Technicolor romantic experience. Back in 2001, nine days after 9/11, my sweetie and I traveled to Italy for a long-planned vacation. Really, really long-planned. When he’d proposed to me, he promised that some day he’d take me to Rome. Which he knew was…

I write in a room lined with beloved books – it’s like being with old friends. I know chunks of some of these keepers by heart. For some reason it’s usually dialogue I remember, some favorite exchange between the characters. I love the banter that takes place between a hero and heroine, particularly where they’re talking about one thing, but there’s a delicious sexual undercurrent underlying the whole conversation. I’m not talking about suggestiveness, but banter as a sexy duel, a form of courtship, a dance, a game that neither can lose. Good banter always makes me smile.Some books, some heroes, lend themselves to it more than others. For me, it’s usually the hero who starts it. For instance, here’s an example from my current book, THE STOLEN PRINCESS, where the Regency hero gets the heroine all hot and bothered with just a few teasing words. She gave him a severe look. “I told you, I have no desire to put myself under the thumb of any man, ever again.” “But it wasn’t my thumb I was thinking of.” He said it with such a— such a wicked, laughing look she was hard put to know what to say. So…

Years and years ago, when I still played with Barbies, Saturday nights were a magical time. They were all about steak dinners with the family around the candlelit table and my dad smoking his cigar in the backyard afterward. Saturday nights were also when IN SEARCH OF… aired on TV, and I remember watching it, enthralled, and oftentimes, scared to death when Leonard Nimoy told us about things like The Loch Ness Monster and Bigfoot. Of course, I was young, and I freaked out at everything. So when a certain episode about vampires aired, it left an indelible impression that’s stayed with me until this day. Long claws, sharp teeth, a woman in bed with a gnarly shadow creeping over her…. I was hooked, and it’s no surprise that I’m writing about vampires now for Ace Books. In keeping with what scared me when I was younger, my own vampires usually have a mean streak and will do anything to survive. In fact, my first vamp book THE HUNTRESS (for the defunct Bombshell line from Silhouette) featured a tribe of female bloodsuckers, feral and hard to slay. I loved those gals, but the real villain in that story was vampirism…

Some years ago I sat in a movie theater watching, The Perfect Storm. I must have been the only one present who did not know this was a true story, therefore the ending set in the proverbial stone of historical fact. Up until the point all three of the heroes perished, I had been waiting for that miraculous intervention, anything that would save them. When the movie ended, I was so aggravated that I had sat through the entire movie and had nothing but a sense of doom to show for my time. So my question to you is: what is the point of a movie or a book if it does not end with at least the hope that the characters we suffer with will be happy when the story ends. This is one of the reasons I don’t trust mainstream fiction or movies that are supposed to have a meaningful message to us poor, beleaguered souls of humanity. Too often, such entertainment leaves me depressed. In addition, because I am a writer, I have concluded that it is a lot easier for an author to give a book or a movie a sad ending than it is for…