I most often write in the sunroom at the back of my house. It’s a cozy space in my South City St. Louis home that faces out into my backyard. My desk sits in the middle of a wall of windows overlooking a remarkable magnolia tree that flowers a little bit at a time from spring to fall. In the room with me when I write, undoubtedly, are my dogs, Nala and Hazel, and my cat, Owen. Hazel is usually content to doze on the couch while Nala and Owen compete to see who can end up closer to me. Owen is often on my lap or trying to take over my keyboard, while Nala worms her way underneath and often naps on my feet, putting them to sleep and making it difficult to get up for a break. On my desk near my monitor is a collection of meaningful trinkets related to whatever story I’m working on. Over the years, I’ve found this helps me quickly connect to my work in progress. For this series, I started with a Schlilich German shepherd who reminded me of Sledge in A New Leash on Love. When I was writing Sit, Stay,…

In the vanity mirror of her old bathroom, Helena caught sight of her naked torso and wished she hadn’t. She’d known her body looked bad. But it was so much worse than she’d imagined. Water rained from the showerhead, ringing against the old claw-foot tub, a sound that should’ve comforted her for its familiarity, but it didn’t. Not now. Not staring at the disaster that was her body. Her skin bore witness to the brutality she’d suffered at the hands of the Sisters. Thick scars. Jagged scars. Smooth scars. Sunken-in hollows. Disfiguring and ghastly to look upon. The top of her left breast had a fat, puckered mark from one of the Sisters trying to bury a screwdriver in her heart. Dizziness came over her. The world distorted, fading out of focus until the only thing visible was the mess of her flesh. Every damaged piece of skin flamed to life, burning and itching in an I-won’t-ever-let-you-forget of epic proportions. She turned and looked over her shoulder at her back in the mirror. The ability to breathe stopped. Both sides bore dozens, maybe hundreds, of scars from the gang shanking she’d endured. The raised, angry skin looked like a grotesque…

I’ve always been a sucker for that first “cute-meet” scene in a romance story. You know, when the hero and heroine first make eye contact and magic happens? Well, it didn’t quite happen that way in Wolf Rising, Book 8 in the SWAT: Special Wolf Alpha Team Series. That’s because werewolf/SWAT Officer Jayden Brooks was too busy that first meeting saving high school teacher Selena Rosa from one of her former students who’d dropped out to join a gang. Brooks had to tackle Selena to the floor to keep her from being shot, which left her a little woozy. At least that seems to be the reason the normally fiery woman is so out of it. Their second meeting in the dayroom of the Dallas SWAT compound was much more “cute-meet.” As you can see from the excerpt below, this second meeting does go well, with lots of banter and sexual chemistry. This scene was so much fun to write because the two characters seemed to hit it off pretty much all on their own. I barely had to work that hard at it. I just put them in a room together and they took it from there.   Excerpt:…

Dear Reader, As an author with more than twenty titles under my belt, I know I’m kind of supposed to have the whole “words” thing down by now… but there ARE NO WORDS to convey just how stoked I am to finally have Sean & Molly’s story out in the world!! YAY!!! JUST THIS ONCE hit the shelves on October 2nd, and believe me when I tell you we couldn’t wait a second longer!! LOL!! These smack talking, trouble making friends-to-lovers have been whispering naughty line-budging ideas in my head since the Wedding Date series was first conceived. They were NOT into being the third book in the series and kept pushing their love story to the forefront of my mind… begging for just a few more lines in each book, another hint, maybe just one really hot, eyes lingering, breathless anticipation, sizzling off the page scene… But tough as it was, I managed to wrestle them back, knowing their story would be worth the wait. And it SO was. Writing Sean and Molly was one of the most fun experiences of my career. They couldn’t wait to hit the page, and wouldn’t stop whispering to me until THE END was typed……

Hi there! Thanks for having me. There are so many beloved tropes in romance, sometimes it’s hard to choose which ones will fit a particular story. When I’m starting a new book, I always begin with my characters: who they are, what they want most, and how they plan to get it. With COULDN’T ASK FOR MORE, Bryan, the hero, came to me first. A wealthy textiles executive, he’s handsome and successful. Yet, he still feels the need to prove himself to his father by making sure the family business remains prosperous, and he’s willing to do the work to make that happen. When my heroine, Alexis, stepped onto the page, I saw her as a young, driven fashion designer. She has big plans to shake things up inside the fashion industry, but she is savvy enough to know she’ll have to work her way there. She’s not one to pass up a golden opportunity, and the upcoming Carolina Music and Fashion Festival is just that. The small, regional festival will be the perfect launching point for her new fashion line, Krystal Kouture One. Bryan and Alexis have something of a mutual goal—they are both seeking success in their careers, in…

My debut contemporary romance, WILD ON MY MIND, combines three gifts that my grandparents gave me growing up:  their love and support, long family road trips, and an annual pass to Pittsburgh Zoo and PPG Aquarium.   Before their deaths this past year, my maternal grandparents were two of my biggest supporters.  My grandfather and I even worked at the same company where he could be found at his desk, three days a week until his death at age 94. I hope that their caring spirit and work ethic lives on in characters of mine.  In WILD ON MY MIND, Lou is partially based off of my grandfather.  The eighty-year-old veterinarian helps the hero, Bowie, run a local zoo.  But Lou is more than a coworker…he’s family. He’s the father that Bowie never had.  The elderly man gave Bowie a home when the formerly troubled boy was kicked out of foster care on his eighteenth birthday.  Together, the two of them are raising Bowie’s eleven-year-old daughter. Lou also serves as Bowie’s confidant through all of the ups-and-downs of his relationship with the heroine, Katie.  He has faith in his adopted son even after Bowie confesses that he’d engineered mean tricks back…

Because I’m a romance writer, you can probably guess my answer to the question, “Do romance novels have value?” Of course I believe they do! I suppose if I were strictly mercenary I’d still say something to the effect of, “Well, duh. It’s a multibillion dollar business that outsells all other genres.” But my feelings go much deeper than that. You see, I get fan emails saying things like, “Your sense of humor got me through a difficult time.” Or, “I know I can count on your books for an uplifting ending. I need that right now.” Even my own story begins with a similar experience. I was raised by intellectuals. I had never read a romance novel, yet I was taught to think of them as “trash” and far beneath anyone with a brain. That’s the very definition of prejudice. I prejudged a whole industry without investigation. Then my life took a challenging turn. My parents became terminally ill at the same time. As an RN, I was able to take care of them so they could remain at home as long as possible. It was one of the most difficult things I’ve ever taken on. Fortunately, another nurse…

Aidan’s breath came out in a frosty mist as he continued making his way down. Seeing the deep never-ending chasm on either side of their ledge, he felt his blood turn to ice. He was afraid one misstep by either of them while they attempted to shift and dress could mean their demise. “If we have to, we can call for a helicopter rescue,” Ted said. “Not when any of us are wolves, we can’t.” Aidan looked down, another fifteen feet, or so, to go. He wasn’t even sure he could stand on the ledge with them, or if Holly or Nick would have the strength to climb up, even with the aid of the rope. Had she ever climbed an ice mountain before? Nick had the gear, so he probably knew how to climb, but could he? Aidan noticed the way he was holding his front paw, not resting it firmly on the ice, and that indicated he’d injured it. Aidan couldn’t see a break. Maybe a light sprain, or a bad one. He hoped he was wrong. He moved carefully down a few more feet, shaking loose more snow. He was sweating, despite the cold. When he finally…

Rocky Mountain Cowboy Christmas; Book 1 in the Rocky Mountain Cowboys series Exclusive Excerpt Why did this keep happening to her? Camille flattened herself against the toilet paper display, resisting the urge to thump her head against the rolls. There was a reason she only came to the Borne Market early on Sunday mornings, and that was because she didn’t want to be forced into awkward conversations with any of her neighbors. It helped that sixteen-year-old Kacey Betts worked the checkout on Sunday, and her focus stayed glued on her cell phone the entire time. Camille could slip in, buy what she needed, and slip right back out without having to make polite chitchat with anyone. Today, however, she and Kacey weren’t alone. Steve-freaking-Springfield was there. The last time she’d seen him, he’d sweetly helped her escape her “rescue.” She still hadn’t forgiven Mrs. Lin for sending everyone and their brother on a search for her. The whole situation had been mortifying, and that was with Steve’s help. If he hadn’t been there, it could’ve been so much worse. Camille’s stomach churned and her cheeks flushed at the thought of all that attention—and the potential additional humiliation. Now, though, she was…

For about the first ten years of my writing career, I collected rejection slips like normal people collect photos from their family vacations, souvenirs of an extended stay in an alternate reality. Most of those nopes had a distinct theme: love your writing, love the rodeo action, but your characters are just too nice. Or as one editor told my agent, “She needs to rough them up.” I am embarrassed to say that I resisted for a very long time. I wanted my heroes and heroines to be smart and sensible, someone I’d like for a friend. I didn’t want to let them make dumb mistakes and bad decisions. But finally I realized that even smart people do dumb things. Life inflicts damage on pretty much everyone, and none of us is as together as we’d like the world to think. As Grace McKenna tells Hank Brookman in Mistletoe in Texas when he complains that his brother-in-law is too perfect, “Wyatt is as much of a mess as all the rest of us. He just looks better doing it.” But why are we so drawn to flawed characters? The easy answer is that the harder the battle, the more satisfying…