Beware of the Wife

When it comes to my writing, I’m a creature of habit. I work from about 8 AM until about 2 PM five days a week. Sometimes I work on the weekends, but very seldom anymore. The weekends are for family and also for me to let my brain and eyes rest. It’s bad enough when my writing routine is messed up by doctor appointments or the school calling me to come pick up a kid or drop something off that either one has forgotten, but when it’s other people who don’t care that I’m working or think I just play on my laptop—I’m assuming this is the case, because they just won’t leave me alone....

The landlords, their hired hands, or the landlords grown children have been in and out of our driveway so much—doing only God knows what in the fields and the far barn—I now know the very sound of their vehicles when they pull in. No call or text that they’ll be out here; nope, they just show up out of the blue. My older kids stop by unannounced or they’ll text and say they’re on their way over, so I have to set aside what I’m doing. I love my kids, but because I’m Mom, I guess I’m supposed to let the interruptions slide.

But I hate being a mean ass. I really do. Sadly, I’m going to have to start biting heads off. As a matter of fact, I found a graphic online, blew it up, and posted it at our main door.

So...

About a month ago our minister showed up unannounced one Saturday afternoon. He was on his way to town and thought he’d stop by to check on us. Yes, we’d missed a month of church, but it had been one virus after another that the two kids here at home had kept passing back and forth; the dau was so sick the last round she missed a week of school. Anyway, I’m sitting in my writing chair doing her hair for homecoming that night. I was wearing nothing but undies and an oversized t-shirt when the minister came to the door. [groan] Grabbing my nearby cardigan, I then tossed it over my lap a moment before he walked inside...but he paused at the door.

 

Uh, oh.

The preacher came in and sat across from me. “Saw your sign by the door. Did you put that there for a reason?”

Seriously?

Looking him directly in the eye I replied very firmly, “Yes, I did.”

“All right, then.”

All right, indeed.

That sign is perfect for me. I admit it. Don’t even worry about a dog. Beware of the wife because she’s had it up to eyebrows with interruptions, people wanting this and that, and family who think I don’t really work....

There are two adorable cabins down in the hollow from us that are just big enough for a single person. I wonder if I could rent one cheap? But you know what? I’d probably still have to make another beware sign and post it on the cabin’s front door, too. {{sigh}}
******

Quick announcement: Avoid Writer's Hell is back! It will now function as a blog and a wonderful website for the revised, expanded book is in the works. For the first blog article visit http://wildchildpublishing.com/blog/when-bad-books-sell-well/. 

Hunting Shenanigans Part II

Uh-oh. Our regular guest author, Margie Church, is back. And her men are up to their hunting shenanigans again!---Faith

 I was here a few weeks ago to share a few tidbits about how the hunters in my family have turned into rednecks. And of course, that is precisely why I stay behind on these outings. If they took me along, I'm sure that my body would be found on some deserted gravel road. Buzzkill, killjoy – yeah, that would be me along with a huge ration of scaredy-cat. I've learned to cook what they bring home. I've also had to put up with conversations like these.

Me: "Hi, are you on your way home?"

DH: "Not quite."

Me: "Oh? Why not? It's a five-hour drive."

DH: "I had a little trouble with the DNR up here. Luckily they didn't take my truck or my grandpa's antique gun."

After that little conversation involving shooting from a gravel road and changes in road signage, DH became the President of what I called the "Offenders Club." I'm not sure anyone in the group has ever gotten a ticket as high as his.

 Then there was Christmas 2011. The bow hunters were at it again. "Come home by 5:00 for dinner," I tell them as they dash out the door. It's dark here by 4:00 and when the phone rang at 4:30, I had this feeling.

DH: "Send Zach out here, will you? I shot a deer and we can't find it."

Me: "Oh, no."  None of us likes the idea of a wounded animal left to die. "I'll send him."

And so I'm left alone on Christmas Eve with our dinner slowly drying out. Eventually, I caved in and ate alone, on a TV tray while watching the news. Around 8:00, the three of them came home without the deer. They were apologetic of course, but the evening was toast.

Me: "So what are you going to do now?"

DH gave me a sheepish look. "We'll go look for it tomorrow, okay?"

I checked the calendar. Tomorrow was Christmas day. And so, after mass and dinner, the three of them took off in search of the deer. The weather here last Christmas was unseasonably warm. Likely the deer meat was spoiled even if they found it. I watched a movie with my mom and took a nap while they continued the great search and came home empty handed. I have to say, DH felt bad about throwing a monkey wrench into the holiday, and even worse about wounding an animal.

He took another shot at a deer on New Year's Eve. You'd think I'd have learned my lesson and just said no hunting on holidays. But I didn't. And the deer went missing and so did they. Luckily they found the deer the next morning. Temperatures dropped enough not to worry about whether the meat was okay. They processed the deer in the garage and in the kitchen. I stayed out of sight until it was over.

This year, I have a different strategy. I cook dinner at the usual time. They can eat it or not before they leave. Come Christmas, I think I'll make soup and sandwiches. To go.

If you're a hunting widow or looking for a great story to heat up your chilly autumn night, check out Razor. This is the first book in a 3-book series that I'm writing with K.B. Cutter. This erotic romance has a fascinating twist and BDSM elements. It's not typical by any stretch of the imagination and it's scorching hot. Readers have raved about the story and we hope you'll love it too.

Blurb: Razor by Margie Church & K.B. Cutter

Amy and Bryce have a happy, strong marriage. So why would Amy suggest bringing her best friend, Raine, who also is a lifestyle Domme, into their relationship? To gain a little control in the bedroom.

Initially, Bryce thinks his wife's request is ridiculous, but he's committed to his marriage and wants her to be happy. His new relationship with Raine is exciting and confusing. He loves Amy deeply, and now feels an emotional connection to Raine, too. What has he gotten himself into?

As Bryce and Raine's relationship evolves, Amy discovers a new capacity to love and share in ways she never imagined. Raine brings out the kink in everyone. And more.

This groundbreaking, erotic trilogy continues in Razor: Love's Storm.

CONTEST:  What do you think of this story's premise? The most honest, interesting answer will win a copy of the eBook.

Can't wait?  Buy Razor now on Amazon, B&N, and Sony. 

From Military Memoir to Paranormal Romance

Welcome author Lisa Carlisle to Four Strong Women!

Hi, I’m Lisa Carlisle, author of the Underground Encounters series with Ellora’s Cave. For over ten years before I began writing this series, I focused on non-fiction. So I’m here today to compare just one of the many differences between writing these two types of books: memoirs of serving as petite female in the Marine Corps to erotic paranormal romances. Can you think of two more different worlds? So just imagine how different it is to write them. 

Memory versus Imagination

In my memoirs, I had to rely on memory. And if you’ve ever had an argument with someone, you know how people remember things differently! I reconstructed conversations the way I remembered them. To cover my ass, I included an author’s note reading this is the way I remember events and conversations. Luckily, I kept all my letters from that time so I had a number of reference materials to consult when trying to remember what and when something happened. Was it before or after another event? 

In fiction, no worries - I can make it all up! 

Okay, maybe it’s not so easy as that. When creating characters and new worlds, you have to remember the details about them. What do they look like? What’s their background? For instance, in my recent book, I had the heroine’s mom as single in the beginning of the book, but then had a scene at the end where she had remarried. Yikes! When working on a book for months at a time, it helps to keep a character sheet noting details like these. Maybe one day, I’ll use one myself. ;) Okay, I’ve started one. I’m now at the third book in my series so realizing that it’s becoming necessary, especially if characters are going to pop up again later in other books. 

And although you’re making things up in your paranormal world, are they believable? You don’t want something so out there that people will think it’s nonsense. 

Now I’ll tell you about my most recent release. For an erotic vampire novella just in time for Halloween, check out Smoldering Nights, the first in the Underground Encounters series. 

“If you are looking for a short story full of action and passion then pick up and get ready to be hooked on the series.” ~ Sizzling Hot Book Reviews.

Smoldering Nights

Nike loves visiting the goth club Vamps—she can exchange her firefighter uniform for a slinky fantasy outfit. There she runs into the man she’d been admiring from afar at a rock climbing gym. He’s been the star of all her sexual fantasies, so is it any wonder they end up in his private room upstairs? Just when things begin to heat up, Michel’s enemies appear.

Only Michel isn’t an ordinary mortal. And someone from his past is on the hunt for vengeance. Michel and Nike are forced on the run and hide out in a coastal cottage in Maine. They can’t resist their attraction and spend the nights exploring each others’ bodies while trying to sort out how they feel about each other. Can they overcome their differences to be together? And how will they evade the predators who are chasing them? 

Read an excerpt

Buy now at Ellora’s Cave

Buy now at Amazon

About Lisa Carlisle

I’ve loved the vampire myth since I was in third grade and had a crush on Dracula (rivaled only by my eternal love for Darth Vader). Now I have a strange attraction to Severus Snape–apparently I have a thing for dark, brooding guys wearing capes. 

When I was younger, I served in the Marine Corps and backpacked around Europe on my own, which has provided me enough settings and characters for a lifetime of writing. Currently, I live in the Boston area with my fantastic, supportive husband and two kids. I’m very happy to be a multi-published, award-winning author writing in different genres.

Visit my Web site at www.lisacarlislebooks.com 

For more of my writing, check out my non-fiction Web site at www.lisacordeiro.com

Let's connect on 

Facebook

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Gone Off the Deep End

After I graduated high school, I moved to the Greater Cincinnati Area and soon found work in an animal shelter as a caretaker. Later I even worked for a veterinarian as the same. I love animals, grew up with a menagerie of pets on our 23-acre farm, and since having to rent, I’ve owned only cats, dogs, ferrets, and usually kept a nice aquarium—and still do.

Now let’s fast forward about fifteen or twenty years. What the hell has gotten into animal rights activists, shelters, and fostering agencies for animals? They’ve gone off the deep end and are often extremists, imho.

Before anyone who works/volunteers for an animal shelter or some sort of animal rescue place or hospital gets your panties in a twist when you read this—I do love animals, and like I said above, I’ve worked for a shelter and a vet. However, I draw the line when I’m told what I can and cannot adopt, where the dog/cat is to be kept, and how many visits to the veterinarian I am *forced* to make with my pet. The amount of hoops adoptive owners now have to leap through to give a poor kitty or dog a home nowadays is unbelievable.

I believe it's easier to adopt a child from overseas than it is to adopt a dog in my area. I'm not kidding. My oldest daughter recently went through this with one of our local shelters. Moreover, she was told she could not take the dog out of the county. Say what? I can hear myself ranting if I had been in her shoews... Look, chickiepoo, you should be grateful I’m shelling out nearly $200 for said mutt and providing a good, warm, loving home for it, so don’t get up on your socialist high horse. You're full of crap if you're telling me we have to stay in the current county because of a dog! And don’t you dare tell me I have no choice but to keep it indoors. If I wanna adopt a dog to help me in herding the sheep or corralling the cows, it’s going to have a nice doghouse or a spot in the hay barn to sleep. Not all animals are required to live inside. The medieval days of sleeping with the livestock for warmth are over!

Again, I am totally serious about these policies. I can't stand to deal with the county, let alone higher forms of government. Too many brainless officials running a muck.

My mother adopted a cat several years ago. She was told when the adoption was all said and done it would cost her $70. It took ALL afternoon for the paperwork to be completed, and by the time she left with the cat, the shelter had charged my mother $115. She came out of there with tears in her eyes because she had to dip into her emergency money to pay for her new companion.

I was furious. I was told to get in the car....

So, anyway, now shelters are forcing owners (don’t tell me to say pet parent or I will throw up) to take their pets to the vet x amount a times per year—and they check with the pet's vets to verify this then call you and bitch if you’ve missed an appointment. And then these people have the nerve to get on TV and go on and on about how everyone should adopt a shelter animal, how fewer people are adopting, why aren't more people adopting...

First, if I’m gonna have to pay out the butt for a dog or cat I might as well pitch in another couple hundred and buy a purebred with papers, not to mention it’s easier and less time consuming! Oh, and let’s not forget the nosy, nitpicking employees who drive out to your home to inspect it before they’ll even consider allowing you to adopt that beagle/basset/shepard mix that has been waiting for a home for the last 18 months.

I realize the shelters want to stop animal cruelty and they want the pets to have good homes. I feel the same way. But for crying out loud, when it’s so difficult to adopt an animal because of all the rules and regulations, plus the high prices to adopt, these organizations have no room to complain. And don’t even get me started on ‘oh, but the meds, vaccines, and vet bills come out of those fees’. Again, I worked for a veterinarian. Vets make excellent money. Anyone who has had to pay for surgery to be done on their pet knows you need to sell Great Aunt Gertrude’s silverware to pay for the procedure. Yes, some vets donate money and time, but all vets should do this (and human doctors should do the same to say thank you for their BMWs and Porches). Both professions are to help others, not rake in the dough.

Also, what happened to our rights? When someone is tossed into a jail cell because he’s stomped a dog to death—and this is a horrible crime, indeed—but a woman can’t get the law to protect her from a husband who beats the hell out of her and the children, there’s something wrong with this picture. Our local news stations are always looking for something to report, so we hear a lot about abused animals and the perpetrators serving jail time for it. Fine 'em, give ‘em 90 days, but for Heaven’s sake, but what makes that more important than a woman entering a hospital because her boyfriend or spouse broke her jaw or snapped her son's arm?

Society's principles are questionable at best. I’m sorry about the li’l dog, but that woman and her children’s well being is more important. I feel like common sense has gone the way of the dinosaurs.

Wow, I’m on a big soap box today...ahem!

So, my daughter wanted a couple of dogs. Her landlord said that was fine and even lets her have them inside. However, there’s a big mouse in their rental they’ve tried everything to catch; it’s a smart, evasive li’l sucker. She asked the landlord if she could adopt a cat and explained it would be a mouser as well as a companion. The cat is a big, beautiful gray fella. After all the trouble she went through to adopt him, after her landlord said she could have an indoor cat, he comes into her home, takes one look at her fat, fuzzy pet, and orders her to get rid of him. And this was after having the cat for nearly a year. Seriously? After she’s had it a year and it’s nothing but a lazy lap cat?

So guess who has the cat now? [shakes head] Yeah, you guessed it. I do.

Why do people have to make everything so difficult? And why does the county government have to be as nosy as the state and federal governments and yet toss people to the curb who need help?

It’s like finding out how many licks it takes to reach the center of the Tootsie Roll Pop. The world may never know.

Vampires Next Door?

Welcome today's guest, Trinity Blacio, who just might have...well...there might be vampires next door!

You know how you’re always nervous about moving into a new home or new neighborhood? Well, I’m there. Last June my family and I moved from a bigger town to a smaller one, from an apartment to a large home. Talk about a lot of work and, of course, who had to pack and unpack everything? ME!

Finally, we are settled. The kids have now been in school for over a month, and have new friends and a new way of life. I’ve met one of my neighbor’s who is very nice person, but on the people on the other side of us... Let’s just say we’re still confused. Right now we call them The Vampires.

Oh, we’ve seen them in the daytime, but rarely and only when said teenager is having a pool party. But most of the time their house is shut up against the sun. At night the doors come open and the lights brighten their once dark home.

On many occasions I have woken to get a glass of water and saw our neighbors wide awake at three in the morning. I’ll be standing there drinking my water, gazing out my kitchen window, and their house is full of life at night. Even the children are up roaming or they would be swimming late at night.

Is there a man of the house? I think so, but so far I’ve only caught him mowing the lawn once and then one time at night when the parents threw a party. The mother is the same way; I’ve seen her mow the grass, but soon after she is in the house.

Of course being the polite person that I am, I smile and wave, but still nothing from either of them. {{Sigh}} If they are vampires, I sure wish they would come bite me. I’d love to live forever, find a cute, hunky vampire dude to cuddle up to—and let’s not forget the hot, steamy vampire sex that goes with such a man. 

We can all dream, can’t we? So what have I been up to other than moving? I’ve been trying to get back into the writing grove. So far I have one Christmas story done and sent to my new agent, and I’m halfway done with book eight of my Running In Fear Series. I’m hoping to have it out around Halloween, so stay tuned.

Christmas give away. I invite all of you to come over to my blog, on November first. I will be giving away a nice size box of Christmas gifts. I will pick the winner on December 20.

Blog: http://trinityblacio.com/blog/

Below is the blurb for After Dark on Bourbon Street. Please check out the first seven books of the series at Ravenous Romance.

http://www.ravenousromance.com/fantastica/running-in-fear-escaped.php?keyword=Trinity+Blacio

Don’t forget to check me out on facebook: https://www.facebook.com/pages/Trinity-Blacio/96394356778

Twitter: https://twitter.com/trinityblacio

Valda Sart hated being Skunk Ape, Bigfoot, Yeti, and so on. She was no ordinary Skunk Ape. Valda had gifts and kept them hidden. However, now someone was hunting her and she knew it was only a matter of time before they caught her. All six men in her pack, the one she’d been promised would not give up on her, were determined to claim her. At birth, each female was promised to another clan, and Valda was no exception.

Her only option was to use her gift and blend in with the rest of the people around her. Hiding among the humans, Valda realized how much her life sucked; that was until she forged a new life in New Orleans. Here in the city, she had friends and men actually talked to her, courted her.

For the last six years something had pulled at her. It was only a matter of time before she, too, would have to join Jaycee, Suzanne, and Lissa on the new planet. Even in her dreams she’d seen the new, beautiful world, and the wide range of beings already living there.

            How can they ask her to give up romance, love, and friends? Didn’t they know what it would mean if this group of men found her?

Inflation!!!!!!!!!!

I'm still in shock. It's been easily 15 years since I last went to the laundry mat. Well, our dryer broke a month or two ago, and fall in Northern Ontario is just....well, fall in Northern Ontario. Wet. Cold. Rainy. Miserable. But four people wearing clothes means there is always laundry to do. Especially if one of those four people is a teenage girl.

All summer, a broken dryer was no big deal. Just hang the clothes on the line outside. Cheaper anyway, right? Of course! Enter fall. And the rain. And the cold. And the miserable. For Two Weeks!!!!!! Socks and underwear and dancing tights are getting to be in short supply, so, I broke down. I hauled two weeks of four people's clothing, towels and bedding to the laundromat in a cab, because we're environmentally friendly and don't own a car.

OMFG.

Let's just say between cab fare and those machines? I could almost have bought a used dryer for the amount of money I spent last night. That's a pocket full of cash and three and a half hours of my life I will never get back.

In fact, the more I think about it, the madder I get. I would be over the moon if I got paid by the hour what I spent by the hour last night. Hell, I'd sure as shootin' be able to afford a new clothes dryer, never mind a used one...

Thank goodness for my son and his irresistible baby blues. The very nice Christian laundromat owner and her friend had ordered pizza, and all he had to do was look longingly at that box once and they were all over offering him slices of pizza pie and cookies for dessert. Which I appreciate, because once she empties those machines out, she can sure afford it better than I can!!!

But....HUZZAH!!!!!!! Observe: the blessed mountain of clean laundry. So at least there's that.

I HATE my computer!!!

Please help us welcome Nicole Morgan. Oh, do I know this feeling!

~ ~ ~

Okay, not really. I actually love my computer. It was an affordable option at a time when I really needed a laptop. And it's been really very good to me over the past year and a half. It's not the computer itself. It's the work that needs to be done on the computer on a daily basis. I mean how many hours is a woman supposed to be able to sit in front of a computer all day long before it becomes inevitable that she will go completely BSC (aka bat sh*t crazy)?

I'm sure many authors out there will agree that it's hard to manage the multitude of tasks that we have in this day and age of publishing in the 21st Century. Between general promoting, interacting with our fellow authors and hopping all over the net to both spread the word about our books, but also help our colleagues, there are times when I run out of enough hours in the day to even write.

Ahh...but, of course I start off every day with a "master plan" to be super productive the first couple of hours so I can spend the rest of day offline and doing nothing but what I love the most, writing. *sigh* That would be so nice. Still, no matter how many times I start every day with this resolve of turning off the little internet option on my laptop it never happens.

Now, I could ask you all to share with me your tips on how to better manage my time, get more accomplished and be the best that I can be, but I won't. See, this is a mini-rant. I'm a frustrated woman at the end of my rope who just wants one of you to please, for the love of all that is good and righteous in the world to please, please invent a machine that stops all time so I can catch up and *POOF* I'll say, "look at all I got done today!"

*Sigh* If only... If only...

Okay, back to work I go, but I would just like to say that out of all the ways I would like my butt to hurt, having it sore from sitting too much was not what I had in mind. Grrr...

Nicole Morgan aka BSC Author ;)

~ ~ ~

Blurb:

Jace Walker served his country for ten years in the Army. Years of combat and war left him with invisible wounds which bring him to the lowest point in his life. In a moment of crisis, he meets his angel.

After years of being an attentive and loyal wife, Alexis Foster catches her husband's infidelity. Her life changes as she gets divorced and becomes a single parent.

Years pass and Jace finds his angel once again. Only this time she's no longer married. He vows to do anything in his power to sweep her off her feet and make the angel he remembered from all those years before become his. Despite her insecurities, the two find an attraction stronger than either of them anticipated.

Will he entice her into letting down her walls? Or will she entice him into finding a true and unrelenting love?

eBook purchase link:

• Bookstrand

Paperback purchase links:

• Amazon
• Barnes & Noble