'Twas the Night Before New Year's (Again)

by Sarah Raplee

(with apologies to Henry Livingston, Charles Dickens and Dr. Seuss)

‘Twas the night before New Year’s, and all through my home,

There was no one awake; I was up all alone.

My husband reclined with the cat on his lap,

Dog dozed on the hearth near the fire’s pop and snap.

I curled on the couch, read romance on my Kindle

And hoped that my horrible funk would soon dwindle.

I munched on dark chocolate, drank peppermint tea,

And mourned opportunities now lost to me.

When out on the deck someone pounded the wood,

I shivered and wondered who’s up to no good?

On my way to the kitchen I shook like a leaf,

Afraid I’d discover a big scary thief.

The rain-soaked boards glistened in the porch light,

Shadows danced gracefully through the black night.

Then what to my sleep-deprived eyes did appear,

But a wizened old man sporting two pointy ears!

He was dressed all in brown, wore a cape of gold feathers,

His angelic smile split a face of tanned leather.

I instantly recognized Old Father Time,

He waved a bright wand and then sang out this rhyme:

Fee, fie, foe, fum!

It’s New Year’s Eve; Why so glum?

You’ve blessings a-plenty to celebrate

And time to re-live them—it’s just half past eight!

Then, dancing a jig, he crossed the red rug

And grabbed my cold fingers and gave a hard tug.

When magic exploded like fireworks around us,

I couldn’t believe the next place that I found us!

Intensive Care Nursery, babe wrapped in fleece,

Doctor-signed papers that gave her release.

My tiniest granddaughter would be okay,

My heart swelled to bursting with joy on that day.

In dribbles and drabs,

In bits and in bites,

Father Time showed me blessings

The rest of the night.

I’ve family closer, good friends within reach,

Trips to the desert, the plains, and the beach.

Living my passion for words as I age,

Entwined with my husband, my heroic sage.

So many hours later back home by the fire,

My spirits could not have been lifted much higher.

I gave Time a hug to express my elation

And thanked him for spiritual recalibration.

“You are welcome,” he said. “But now I must fly!

Then, in the magical blink of an eye

He was gone and I gazed at the clock on a shelf

And I laughed when I saw it in spite of myself.

‘Twas the morning of New Year’s; cat stretched and dog yawned,

I told my dear husband the old year was gone.

“But the new! Oh, the New Year has come, full of promise!”

A toast and a tumble in bed paid it homage.

So to all you sad people I say, “Never fear!”

Contemplate, meditate, celebrate the New Year!

Copyright 2011 Sarah Raplee

Be sure to check out my Christmas Day post for a 100-Year-Old Christmas Gift !

'Tis The Season for a New Adventure

Delilah Marvelle

As a writer who has been in the business for well over fifteen years (that includes my struggles to get published), I have learned that the only way to grow in my career is to look beyond the path I’m on.  I’ve learned this the hard way when I was dropped barely two books into my career by my publisher at the time.  I had to pick myself up and find a new publishing house (which I thankfully did). 

At the time when I was dropped by my publisher, for reasons that didn’t have to do with sales but rather the closing of a line, there was no self-publishing to turn to.  If I couldn’t publish with New York, there would be no book on the shelf. 

My oh my, how things have changed!   After receiving a less than favorable offer from my publisher in New York, I decided it was time to step back and recognize that I had other options.  And in doing so, I have discovered the joy of leaving New York.  Not only am I now working for myself at a fair wage (by self-publishing), but I’m also working for a smaller publisher who is showing the big five just how it’s done: Entangled Publishing.  I’m thrilled to say that my first Christmas anthology with Entangled launched their new Historical Scandalous line.  It’s exciting to know that I’m part of a new adventure.

After writing for years for the big publishers of New York, I realized, I wanted more freedom, more transparency and enough money to make my business viable.  None of which I was getting.  While I learned a lot of incredible skills from the big publishers, I learned something even more relevant from Entangled.  The idea of team work and keeping everything transparent.  Being able to know every step of the process as it’s happening and having a say in important things like the cover itself (which I never had), is a breath of fresh air.  And I’m breathing in deep, lol. 

There were a lot of things outside of my control with the big five New York Publishers.  Not knowing where my books were selling and just getting numbers was mind boggling.  Yet as an author I was expected to accept it.  Not knowing what my cover is going to look like and having no say in what it will look like was as equally boggling.  Yet as an author, I was expected to accept it.  Many times, I felt left out of the process of my own book.  There were times I had no say at all about even my writing. 

But it’s a new chapter in my career and I’m enjoying every moment of it.  I hope both writers and readers alike realize that this is very exciting time for the publishing industry.  Writers have more freedom to write and get paid fairly for it and readers have the ability to read the books that the publishing houses refused to publish for years (like Westerns!).  It is OUR time as writers and readers and I’m so excited to be part of it.  I hope you are too!    

You can check out Delilah's website Here 
You can purchase "All I Want For Christmas Is A Duke" Here

Recipe Tinkering: Christmas Candy & Romantic Suspense

Making candy at Christmas is a family tradition. I was in grade school, when we first added chocolate-covered cherries to our repertoire. Marcia, who rented our upstairs apartment, joined in the fun and shared her recipe. My holiday candy selection still includes chocolate-covered cherries, but not Marcia’s version. My new iteration rolls cherries in a fondant that’s much less sticky.    

I’ve been accused (jokingly) of altering the recipes I contribute to family cookbooks to insure no one can duplicate my dishes. Not true! I’m genetically predisposed to tinkering. What fun is it to follow a recipe by rote year after year without experimenting? And measuring? Only when I’m baking. My same predispositions apply to my romantic suspense manuscripts. We’ll get to that later.

Let’s consider this year’s Oreo/almond ball candy. My starting recipe called for a filling made of crushed chocolate wafers, chopped and toasted almonds, corn syrup, powdered sugar, and chocolate-flavored liqueur. Here’s my most recent modification. The amounts are best estimates because I mix till I get the desired consistency, adding more powdered sugar and/or Amaretto to fit my mood:

1 package double-stuffed Oreos, crushed in the blender

1 cup chopped toasted almonds

1 cup sifted powdered sugar

¼ cup light corn syrup

1/3 cup Amaretto

(Later, you’ll need at least a pound of vanilla-flavored candy coating (probably more) and maybe a cup or so of melted semi-sweet chocolates for decorating.)

I mix filling ingredients, roll them into balls in the palm of my hand, and place them on wax-paper covered cookie sheets. The candy goes into the refrigerator to harden. After the balls chill at least an hour, I melt vanilla-flavored candy coating in the microwave. Then I roll the balls in the coating and plop them back on waxed paper. Next I use a fork to fling (yes, fling) melted semi-sweet chocolate across the candy tray to create interesting patterns.

Will I use this recipe next year? Possibly. But, last year, my liquor of choice was crème de cocoa, and I used regular Oreos, not double-stuffed. Who knows what next year’s cupboard will inspire?

So how does this apply to romantic suspense? I have a very difficult time kowtowing to the conventional wisdom that conflict between the hero and heroine must be sustained throughout the book in order to keep a happy-ever-after (HEA) ending in doubt until the last page. If the heroine and hero are truly smart, why can’t they resolve their conflicts much earlier so they can team up to defeat whatever evil threatens?

That’s one reason I’m a J.D. Robb fan. While her heroine, Eve, and hero, Roarke, occasionally argue/fight, they function as a team. Yet, while Robb’s books couple ample romance with suspense, many genre purists say her novels aren’t romantic suspense. I disagree.

I’d argue the time has passed to insist on precise measurements of ingredients (50% romance/50% suspense). Who cares? Do readers who love thrills with their romance really care how and when the ingredients get mixed, as long as a book delivers both? Changing recipe can add new flavors, deliver surprising twists.

Now that my Christmas candies are all made, I’m off to tinker with my work-in-progress, a romantic suspense (by my definition) set in 1938—another era no-no.

So how do you feel about altering recipes for candy or romantic suspense? Do you feel deprived if a book doesn’t keep the hero and heroine in conflict until the very end? 

AN AUSSIE IN LAS VEGAS

MARGARET'S LAS VEGAS HOLIDAY

What can I say?  All the razzle dazzle, flashing lights and excitement, we loved it.

We stayed in the older part of Las Vegas at a casino called the Four Queens in Fremont Street. Unbeknown to us there is what they call the Fremont Experience every night. A domed roof that was several hundred yards long was the venue for an incredibly colourful laser show. There was music, bands, performers and people walking around dressed as Elvis Presley, Batman, Superman, Mary Poppins, Dracula and heaps of other well known characters. Not forgetting the show girls, decked out in their skimpy costumes, fans and feathers. It was amazing, bus loads of tourist came down every night to see the display, but we were right in the thick of it, standing at our hotel door.

Many of the casinos on Las Vegas Boulevard - The Strip, have themes. We visited Paris Las Vegas which was very French with a giant Eiffel Tower as the main feature. You could actually take a ride right to the top, but for us unfortunately, it was too windy, so we missed out. Someone told us that the Eiffel tower here was exactly 1/3 the size of the Eiffel Tower in France, but it was still a huge structure. While we were there I bought the most decadent French pastry I have ever eaten. It was to die for.

New York New York, was another interesting casino, Circus Circus was actually like being at the circus, we were only there for a short time, but watched a world class juggling act. Hubby won $100 on the pokies so he was happy. I wanted to stay and keep trying our luck there because he was on a winning streak, but he grabbed his money and ran. Another very interesting themed casino was Treasure Island, and the name truly said it all. It really did look like an island from one of Robert Louis Stevenson’s books, pirate ship and all.

We went through the Bellagio, luxury personified. Unfortunately, this poor Aussie author didn’t have enough pennies in the piggy bank to be able to afford to stay there.

One of many highlights of the trip was the Awards Banquet at the Readers Favorite Awards. I say highlight because my novel, Frontier Wife, won 1^st prize in the historical romance section. I had a lovely time there, had to attend on my own as hubby had got sunburned the day before and felt sick. Not to worry, an elderly gentleman, (80 year old Colonel) gallantly came to my rescue and made sure I had plenty to eat and didn’t feel out of things. I called him my knight in shining armour.

Did I mention the shopping? Wow. So cheap. We had to buy an extra suitcase to bring home all the goodies that we bought.

All in all we had a wonderful time. The only downside was the trip home, talk about the flight from hell. We were diverted to Sydney because the plane was running low on fuel, then after sitting on the tarmac for an hour, a passenger became ill and had to be rushed off in an ambulance, then security stepped in because the passenger’s luggage was on board and he no longer was.  Three hours later it was all sorted out, and we took off and headed home.

FRONTIER WIFE

Only in the new world can a highborn young Englishwoman and a tough frontier man, ignite the passion that will fulfil their hopes and dreams in ways they never imagined possible.

Tommy Lindsay arrives in colonial Australia to claim the rundown farm she and her brothers have inherited from their Uncle Henry.

Hidden behind her fragile English rose beauty, beats the heart of a courageous young woman. She will need all this strength to survive the unforgiving heat, and the dangers lurking around every corner.  Lost in the bush, capture by a feral mountain family, raging bushfires are nothing, compared to the danger she faces if she gives her heart to Adam Munro.

Adam Munro, a rugged frontier man, has no room in his heart to love a woman.  All he ever wanted was a presentable wife who would provide him with heirs.   He didn’t need passion in his life, not until he met the beautiful English rose living next door to him.

http://www.thewildrosepress.com/frontier-wife-p-4099.html

http://www.amazon.com/Frontier-Wife-ebook/dp/B003U4W87G/ref=sr_1_4?s=digital-text&ie=UTF8&qid=1350879872&sr=1-4&keywords=margaret+tanner

Margaret’s Website: http://www.margarettanner.com/

A Christmas Gift

Purchase Here

Merry Christmas to all and to all a good night. Yes, this will be my last post on Romancing the Genres. 2012 was a tough year for us as we had to move twice and built a house. Now the house is finished, sort of, and we've moved in. I'm never moving again!!! The result has been I haven't written a word since we started building. My new novel that came out in December, Queen of the Club, was written at the end of 2011 and it's finally here for all of you. Here's what it's about....

Elizabeth is a hardworking, responsible single mom who won’t even entertain the idea of dating until her teen boys are off to college. But that doesn’t mean she can’t have a little fun—her way.

Every other Saturday, Elizabeth becomes “Lizzy”, temporarily trading in business suits and an austere lifestyle for short skirts and plunging necklines. She visits her favorite dance club, selects her “mark” for the evening then engages in an appetizer of dirty dancing so hot, it should be illegal. And the main course? A tete-a-tete in the restroom, where the real sweaty, sizzling, body-slapping fun begins. For Elizabeth, it’s the perfect arrangement—and her biggest secret. Until Gabe. He’s discovered her game and he wants Elizabeth for himself. Not for a quickie in a bathroom…but a lifetime in his bed.

Here's an Excerpt from the book. Enjoy and here's to a happy, healthy and prosperous new year.

Excerpt From: QUEEN OF THE CLUB

Copyright © SUSAN ASHWORTHY, 2012

All Rights Reserved, Ellora's Cave Publishing, Inc.

As usual, Elizabeth went straight to the bikes, selecting one off to the right so Gabe had to slide his chair over a bit to see her. She didn’t start out slow and build up to a fast pace like most people. She climbed on and started pedaling as if the devil himself was after her. He knew she’d ride full out for a good ten minutes, dismount and go back into the locker room.

That was it. Ten minutes of watching her legs pumping and her ass bouncing. But this wasn’t what intrigued him—and intrigued he was.

What had him ready to break all the rules of common sense, and probably a few 24/7 Fitness rules as well, was the transformation.

Elizabeth arrived as a plain Jane—unassuming workout clothes, hair in a ponytail, no makeup—and left as a smokin’-hot seductress, sporting high heels, a short skirt and a curve-hugging sweater. It took her a little less than an hour to make the transformation. He knew she showered—he tried not to think about her naked, wet body—did something to her hair that had it falling in rich dark waves around her shoulders, and then added makeup, making her look radiant, even from far away.

The first time he’d seen her, he’d been on his way out. She was barely a blip on his radar, just another sweaty chick on a bike. But on another night, he’d stayed after his shift and caught a glimpse from his office of a bombshell emerging from the ladies’ locker room. He’d watched as every head in the room, both male and female, turned to follow her movement across the gym before she disappeared down the stairs.

“Who the hell was that?” he’d asked the night manager.

“Don’t ask. She wants nothing to do with you. Trust me.”

Apparently the woman pulled the same stunt every other Saturday. Being new to this branch of 24/7, it took Gabe a few weeks to gather all the gossip and figure out who she was. Every male trainer, office manager and many of the male clients had tried to approach her, ask her out, make a move.

And every one had failed.

Her story was, she was here to work out, period. She was polite but firm. Guys who tried to follow her outside were told she was on her way to meet her six-foot-six football-playing husband, and that pretty much ended the conversation. But Gabe didn’t buy it.

Married women didn’t dress like that for their husbands, or at least none of the wives Gabe knew. Something else was going on, and he was dying to find out what.

For six months he’d watched the duckling turned into a swan. Of course, she wasn’t ugly before the transformation, merely unremarkable. He’d only gotten close to her once. He’d known her attention would be focused on the TV monitor in front of her as she pedaled her bike. Using the ploy of wiping down some of the equipment, he‘d been able to study her from the side.

She didn’t look forty-one—he’d looked up her age on her membership—especially when she was pedaling away on a bike, her ponytail swinging back and forth like a clock pendulum.

Gabe noticed she had checked the “married” box on the application, but had a feeling it was a lie. He’d learned a lot of women did that so they wouldn’t be bugged by come-ons. He’d never gotten close enough to see if she wore a ring, but he guessed she didn’t. She had used a post office box for her address, but Gabe knew she lived in Seal Beach or near there, since that was where the P.O. box was located. The gym also had her cell phone number but no home number. She was working hard to keep her privacy.

He didn’t have to guess her height (five-eight), her weight (one-forty-five), or her measurements (thirty-seven, thirty-three, thirty-six). It was all written on her status sheet. He even knew what her fitness goals were (“firm up my thighs and reduce my waist”), although he thought she looked great the way she was.

But what he didn’t know was why she came to the gym every other Saturday, worked out like a woman possessed for ten minutes and then disappeared into the locker room, only to emerge as the woman who haunted his dreams.

Tonight, however, everything was about to change. Tonight he was going to do something really stupid—he was going to follow her.

 

A 100-Year-Old Priceless Gift

 

Over one hundred years ago an American poetic genius gave the people of the world the gift of Hope in the form of this beautiful, uplifting work, originally titled The Christmas Bells.  

The poet gifted the world with this poem while the United States was deeply embroiled in a hellish civil war. May this carol bring comfort and joy to you all! ~ Sarah

 

I Heard the Bells on Christmas Day
by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

I heard the bells on Christmas Day
Their old familiar carols play,
And wild and sweet the words repeat
Of peace on earth, good will to men. 

I thought how, as the day had come,
The belfries of all Christendom
Had rolled along th'unbroken song
Of peace on earth, good will to men. 


And in despair I bowed my head:
'There is no peace on earth, ' I said
'For hate is strong, and mocks the song
Of peace on earth, good will to men.'

Then pealed the bells more loud and deep:
'God is not dead, nor doth He sleep;
The wrong shall fail, the right prevail,
With peace on earth, good will to men.'


Till, ringing, singing on its way,
The world revolved from night to day
A voice, a chime, a chant sublime,
Of peace on earth, good will to men. 

HENRY WADSWORTH
LONGFELLOW