Monday, November 27, 2006

How Bob Seger Found My Muse

Elisa, Sandy, and I have a deal. We'll post on Friday of each week and we've divied up the weeks. Last Friday was my week. Well, already I've fallen down on the job. Darn it. I'm three days late and I apologize.

For those of you who don't know, I work full-time in retail. As everyone knows, this past weekend was Thanksgiving weekend. 'Nuff said. Friday, Saturday, and Sunday are a bit of a blur.

But here I am, ready to post.

I did have a bit of fun on Saturday. My husband and I went to the Bob Seger concert. I'm a huge Seger fan. Saw him when I was a Freshman in college many years ago (no, you don' t need to know how many years ago). The man is now 61 and he can still get up on that stage and rock. His voice is better than ever.

So I'm watching him and I'm listening to thousands and thousands of people sing along with him. It got me wondering what it would be like to stand on stage and listen to all these people sing the words that came out of my head. It has to be a surreal experience.

And I also started thinking that all those years ago Bob Seger was probably a lot like me. I'm sure he had this deep urge to write songs and faced a blank composition page for the first time wondering if he could do it. Could he write a song people would want to listen to? Could he write a hit?

He's been rocking for 30+ years now. Yeah, I say he can write a hit and songs people want to listen to.

And that's exactly what I want to do. I want to write books people want to read over and over. I want to take people away from their lives and emerse them in worlds I've created with characters I've given birth to.

For the past three months I've struggled, thinking I don't have what it takes, that maybe I should think about quitting for a bit.

But after Saturday night, all that has changed. I want to keep writing. I want to write that story that makes people sigh. I want to create the hero every woman falls in love with.

So, thank you Bob Seger for rediscovering my muse and reminding me just how much I love this whole frustrating writing business.

Oh, and did I ever tell you that my very first ms was about a rock star who falls in love with a high school English teacher? I may have to pull that out from under my bed and dust it off.....

Sunday, November 26, 2006

Elisa's latest release...

The last book in the Immortal Games series, Prey, is now available from Changeling Press:



Jonah Markham is the best in his field. Regarded by some as a cold-blooded killer, he prides himself on his control in any given situation. He’s seen things, done things that would make most men’s stomachs turn. Things that will send him to hell for sure. Kidnapping a stranger and taking her out should be an easy job, but once he gets a good look in her big blue eyes, he knows nothing will go as he’d planned.

Sophie has a mission -- to find out why her brother’s blood was stolen. She’s been fascinated by Jonah since the first time she caught him watching her, and he works for her primary suspect. She can think of a hundred different ways to persuade Jonah to tell her what she wants to know.

Jonah soon realizes he’s kidnapped a dangerous woman -- a vampire who likes to toy with her prey. Things just got a lot more complicated…


To read an excerpt, visit Elisa's website.

Sunday, November 19, 2006

Christmas in Style #7

Christmas in Style is #7 at The Wild Rose Press!
Order here to see what all the fuss is about.

Friday, November 17, 2006

The Power of Three...

Yeah, I know. Cheesy title. *g* But it seems to fit. I can't speak for Sandy or Sharon, but the Soul Reavers anthology isn't something I could have come up with on my own. It's a creation--a product of many hours of IMs and emails and brainstorming. Of making sure our characters didn't have the same names (Sharon and I do this a little too often without even realizing it). Of coming up with a premise and a set of rules that would work for all three stories.

When we first set out to do this, I (naively *g*) expected we'd be able to start writing our own stories right away, and be done with them in a couple of weeks. Um...not so much. Up until recently, we were still in the planning stages, and for someone like me, who isn't a plotter, I found actually planning what I was going to write to be more difficult than I'd thought. We started out with an idea Sandy had, and slowly, it's grown into a group of stories--one set in the past, one set in the present, and one in the future. The same basic concept of the Soul Reaver and the rare woman who can defeat him, but three very different stories--and three very different heroines.

Tuesday, November 14, 2006

Soul Reaver:

Most of the time, this creature maintains a human appearance. In place of a soul, however, is the true form of the Reaver. His milky white eyes are startling against the flat, light absorbing black of his skin, which seems to be draped over its elongated bones. At his full height, the Soul Reaver would exceed seven feet tall. His arms are almost as long as his body and are usually held much the same way a praying mantis does. The Reaver’s five fingers are tipped with razor sharp talons, measuring at least twelve inches. These, he uses to “pierce” his unsuspecting victims and draw out their soul for his consumption.

The victim of a Soul Reaver can be identified by a catatonic or “empty” state, accompanied by five discolorations on the chest or back. The Reaver often gorges on the inhabitants of a town or city, creating chaos and despair. It is here, that the Reaver gains his strength. Not from the soul he has stolen, but from the rush of taking what is not his and from the turmoil that act incites.

The male Reaver can only procreate with certain female humans. When he finds a mate, he will stop at nothing to have her, usually by seduction. However, if that does not work, the male Reaver will employ brute force to impregnate his chosen. These offspring--usually male--are born human. However, when they gain a certain age, usually in their twenties and thirties, their Reaver nature will snuff out any humanity they might possess, turning them into the creature that sired them.

Once every hundred or so years, a female Soul Reaver is born. Sickly and frail, she is the polar opposite of her male counterpart; as good as he is evil. Beneath her human form, she is a soft, glowing white with jet black eyes. As with the male, her fingers are tipped with long talons. She does not feed on souls and usually doesn’t know she is anything but human.

The offspring of a male and female Soul Reaver is born a purebred and has no humanity to snuff out, making him very powerful and very evil. Therefore, the female Soul Reaver is coveted by the male and in constant danger…

Thursday, November 09, 2006

I'm Live!

I just published my new and improved website. Check it out.

Thursday, November 02, 2006

I can't remember how we all met up. Elisa and I have been critiquing together for what seems like years. Oh, wait. It has been years . And just this year fate, our muses, or something threw Sandy and I into each others paths. We hit it off, I introduced her to Elisa, and voila! Our Triumviri was formed.

We started out critiquing then discovered that, hey, we really like each other! A fast friendship formed.

I think it was Sandy who one day said, "We should write an anthology". But it wasn't until a few months later that Elisa and I said, "Yeah! Let's do it."

We brainstormed--which called for a lot of IMing, a lot of getting off the subject, and a lot of laughs, until eventually The Soul Reavers were formed.

I'll let either Elisa or Sandy describe the Soul Reavers.

I just wanted to say I'm thrilled to be writing with hugely talented authors that I have the privilege of calling friends, and I'm even more thrilled to be walking this path of publication with them. The intention of Ghost Writers--Necromantic Musings of the Triumviri is to put into words what working on an anthology entails, to document the struggles of three writers who are trying to juggle motherhood, careers, and writing at the same time. And to have a lot of fun.
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