I’m about to send back edits on my next book, and then have discussions with the cover designer. Since the book is set on a ranch in northern New Mexico, I’m offering some of my pictures as background.
Do you prefer
MOUNTAINS
ROADS
SUNSETS
SUNRISES
OR JUST CLOUDS
Actually I wanted to share some pretty pictures. And LOOK no dogs!
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A year or so ago, I found this TED talk from 2012. I remind myself to go back and rewatch as often as possible.
Today this phrase jumped out: “Women feel chronically less important than men” Looks like some of us need to break ourselves out of this state of being.
And THIS CHART a visual reminder of body language.
Even if I wasn’t born or raised to succeed in something I could ask myself: What does a successful person in this field do? Even more to the point: How does a successful person act/speak/behave? Hasn’t helped with my housekeeping but it has more than once pulled me out of a deep abyss.
Then I found out, more often than not, these successful people were faking it right along with me.
Like ANNA BLAKE a successful horse trainer, Dressage rider, rescue organizer. Just as doubt ridden as the rest of us but moving forward every day.
Step by step, arms in the air. We’re all in this together and together we will succeed.
Filed under Promotion, Romance Writing
Last month the Internet bristled with discussions of the 50 Shades movie. So many wanted to express their opinion on the effect that movie might have on the morals of the general population. Opinions are wonderful, we all have them and fortunately so far we have the right to express said opinions.
Except I heard a few too many references meant to be ‘cute,’ which disparaged romance books. “Suitable for a Mills and Boon” “Reads like a Harlequin romance” and several more allusions to the poor writing of genre books, in particular Romance. Funny, I hear few if any remarks about the unreality of murders being solved by the local florist. Or any mockery for super charged super hero loner adventurer billionaire sharpshooters. Yet these books are devoured at a great rate. Not as great as Romance but…
I’ve been around Romance writers for, oh dear, almost thirty years. I’ve heard the same mockery countless times. Even the publication by the University of Pennsylvania Press of the Dangerous Men and Adventurous Women: Romance Writers on the Appeal of the Romance did not stem the tide of mockery. Just a few days ago a cover artist referred to Romance books as “trashy,” explaining that they’re not ‘high literature.’
Which is a shame since we know not only is Romance the hottest genre, Romance writers are some of the best trained, most supportive writers around. More to the point: Love stories have been around since before the written word, and will be here long after we have spread ourselves out into the Universe. The story of people meeting and being willing to take a chance on their future is timeless.
Romance is here to stay.
Filed under Promotion, Romance Writing
Not much inspirational here, no recipes. Some pictures and a bit of sharing news.
Just recently I came across Ira Glass, and this interesting graphic statement about STORYTELLING. A profound message, at least for me. My high school writings were…well, a beginning of sorts. My first full length book was a hot mess even after I chopped off the first sixty (yes SIXTY) pages. And in spite of Chuck Wendig’s strong advice on PRE-REJECTION in this instance I think I was wiser to listen to my inner voice and wait just a bit before I exposed that collection of words to public scrutiny.
![front-cover-my-killer-my-love-first-try[1]](https://monicastoner.files.wordpress.com/2012/07/front-cover-my-killer-my-love-first-try15.jpg)
What I did do then, and later, was (again borrowing from Chuck Wendig) FINISH MY STUFF. And eventually I sent it out one last time. And they liked it. My Killer 
My Love was published May 2011. Teach Me To Forget came out the next year.
Life intervened as it often does. I still wrote sporadically but those stories stayed (safely) in my computer. Until sometime last year when I pulled one out (rather like reaching into the back of the closet for that outfit I’d been saving for a special occasion) and sent it off to Lauri, the editor who has said consistently: If you wrote it, we want it.
And she did. A Question of Honor (working title) went off to BLACK OPAL BOOKS. They have grown so much since my first submission and I knew I would be waiting. And waiting. Instead of just sitting around waiting, one evening I sent a prologue and a blurb to Lauri and she sent back: Do you want a contract?
Well, ummm, yeah. But it’s not quite finished. That’s fine, she replied. When you’re ready.
In January I started a week long blogging challenge that has stretched to a month. I met many talented people at various stages of their artistic careers. All prompted by Seth Godin (yeah, I’m kind of a squealy fan girl here. During that time I was noodling through my computer and came across “Tyler’s Story,” Tyler being the partner of Devin (A Question of Honor) whose wife left him and took his favorite horse…he really wanted that horse back! I had finished this during my down time, and just for grins popped it over to Lauri with the explanation that it was finished but not smoothed out yet. And Lauri sent back that question I was finally beginning to believe I deserved: Can we send you a contract?
Which means: Two books published, two contracts coming. And a book in final edits that will be out in May 2015. That’s soon. Very soon. Since all three new books are in New Mexico, and all at least somewhat related I’ll be sending Black Opal Books art department some of my pictures of New Mexico mountains and sunsets and sunrises.
And delving into new stories to share. Eventually that first book will come along, or at least the location and characters. Thanks for hanging around to the end!
In case you’re wondering, My Killer My Love right now is a stand alone though I have a follow up novella in the works.
Teach Me to Forget is related to Sometimes When We Touch (just about to go in to Lauri) which is set in Willow Springs, New Mexico. There’s a good chance Paul, the veterinarian from TMTF will be moving to Willow Springs in the future.
A Question of Honor is set on a ranch near Willow Springs, as is Tyler’s story (yet to be named) and that first book is on a ranch nearby. New Mexico is a magical place if you like wind and green chiles.![images[3]](https://monicastoner.files.wordpress.com/2012/04/images3-e1334941725690.jpg)
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Last month I shared a recipe for ‘almost’ KFC biscuits HERE
Greta van der Rol, who writes Space Opera, takes wonderful pictures, and lives in Australia, tells me biscuits are those sweet morsels (cookies!) and what I shared was scones. Oooo-kay. Scones for me are kind of sweet and a bit flaky. But it’s all good and yummmmm.
A couple days ago on a Low Carb FaceBook page I saw a new recipe for something I might not call a biscuit…it’s so good, it might need its own name. And soooo simple. I’m hoping to find the original recipe so I can give credit to the very clever person who came up with this.
In one bowl mix 1/3 cup coconut flour, tsp garlic powder, 1/4 tsp baking powder. 
In a small bowl combine 3 eggs and 1/3 cup melted butter.
Slowly mix wet ingredients into dry mixture. Slowly fold in 6 ounces shredded cheddar cheese. Shape into balls onto parchment paper. Bake at 400 15-18 min til edges are golden brown. Cool at least half hour. The longer they cool the denser they get.
Yes, they are good. No doubt they’ll keep well refrigerated if they last that long. I’m thinking a nice white cheese would be good. Or maybe with some different spices. Hmmm.
I have news…SUCH news…to share with you.
Tomorrow!
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I know, I’ve been all about how awful it’s been for women. And it has. In fact next week I’ll be back at it with things that bug me, and we’ve accepted as ‘the way things are’ for way too long.
But I would not be fair if I didn’t talk about the other side…the positive side…of how women are treated or should be treated. Yesterday I flirted with what Rod Stewart had to offer with his songs. While I was noodling around on YouTube, I came across some other feel good songs. What better way to slide out of the weekend?
I think this is a particularly enjoyable version of a lovely song.
Since I love this sort of song so much I’ve decided it would be fun to use some of these titles for my books. Then I can think of the song while I’m working on the book. Like this one:
Which I think would work really well for the book now at Black Opal. Sydney has always ‘done for’ everyone else, shorting herself. Until she meets Devin, who only want to make her life better. Although I might use another favorite instead:
Because…really what’s more romantic than the magic of touch with the right person?
Sweet Dreams
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In Teach Me To Forget, Jonathan tries to make amends with Bethany by baking biscuits for her the first morning at his secluded forest home (in case you’re wondering, no they didn’t get up close and personal right away…that’s for later)
Bethany stared. “You made biscuits?”
A mocking brow asked her who else there was to make them. She also interpreted it as questioning if she would have made them, or if she could. Flushing at the inanity of her question, she idled over to the sun-drenched breakfast nook, so appealingly set with earthenware dishes that matched the mugs.
Butter filled a crock beaded with condensation that glistened in the early morning sun. The same sun highlighted clear jars of
jelly, bathing the table in their hues of peach and purple. She slid hesitantly onto the bench across from Merritt, whose full attention seemed to be on the steaming biscuit he was hiding under layers of butter and jelly. He didn’t raise his head, but nudged the basket in her direction. She took a biscuit hesitantly, bringing it closer to her face to break it open and engulf her senses in its warm essence.
“It smells wonderful,” she offered.
He indicated the crock of butter, and pushed the jelly jars closer, obviously intending her to make herself at home. Such an offer did not need to be repeated, particularly when she discovered she was ravenous. The butter melted instantly, and the jelly was diligent in offering up its goodness. She took a large bite, closing her eyes in sheer sensual enjoyment.
“Where did you learn to bake like this?”
He shrugged, appropriating another biscuit and decorating it before popping a liberal portion into his mouth, followed by a healthy swig of coffee. She couldn’t stop herself from watching the action of his throat muscles, nor from imagining the path the biscuit took. From the outside, that path was well defined by dark chest hair that lessened as it tracked lower but never seemed to totally—she jerked her gaze away, wondering when it had turned so warm and striving to remember the lessons of her youth. Advanced deportment had never covered breakfasts with unshaven men who were practically bare chested and produced biscuits that could win awards.
“Did you mother teach you how to bake?” As a conversational gambit, it covered many areas. It brought in the opportunity of discussing his early life, which would be a good starting point for the interview. It also reminded him he had a mother who had instilled respect for floundering females along with the ability to cut shortening into flour.
He nodded.
She felt her temper—that distant, barely known part of her she kept segregated from her daily life—pull at its chains, demanding some time out in the world. She repressed it automatically.
“You must be excessively hungry, Mr. Merritt,” she said graciously. Mademoiselle would have been so proud of her. “Perhaps you are not a morning person?”
He smiled, finally bringing his devastating sky blue morning gaze fully upon her face.
“I thought perhaps if I filled my mouth with biscuits, I might keep my foot out of it for a while.”
Since I’ve gone Low Carb I can only taste fresh hot home made biscuits vicariously though if a handsome bare chested man was baking for me I just might succumb. Barring that, I make do very well with this recipe I found here: Maria Mind Body Health. She
Mmmmm Biscuits
also has a gravy recipe if you want to be very Southern. I don’t mess with this recipe except for leaving out the sweetener, and I end up with seriously yummy biscuits, well worth the time it takes to separate, whip, and fold.
If you scroll through the comments you’ll find more excellent hints on eating well and low carb. I’ve found cauliflower is my friend…seriously!
For those who have asked about more books from Mona (and thank you for the interest!) I’m waiting for first edits on a Romantic Suspense set in northern New Mexico, and finishing up a semi sequel to Teach Me To Forget. Semi, since my heroine is mentioned by Bethany. Both these current books are set in Willow Springs, New Mexico and I do believe Dr. Paul, Bethany’s veterinarian friend, is going to be visiting Willow Springs in the near future. I can’t wait to see what love has in store for him!
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Ahhh Snow
Welcome 2015, and right on schedule the year’s first snow fall. Lovely in pictures, isn’t it? Not great for driving of course but it looks like it might clear for a while. In the meantime, what better way to occupy myself than by baking yummies to share with friends?
The foundation recipe is from my favorite site, All Day I Dream About Food, here: Cinnamon Roll Coffee Cake Yes, it does taste as wonderful as it sounds. Being me of course I had to change it up a bit, not adding the cream cheese frosting, reducing the sweetener a bit (partially because I ran out!) and adding pecans. I love the taste of toasted pecans. Instead of a single yummy cake, I made three smaller ones so I could share with friends.
Some to Share
And yes I did share!
The coffee cake is great with champagne, and of course wonderful with coffee. It’s not low calorie but it low carb and very filling. Which means it should last a while. I store in a zipper bag in the refrigerator.
Now I really need to get back to Willow Springs. I just left my heroine having to face her past. Ah the angst.
Happy baking!
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What draws you into a book? Is it the cover, the back blurb, or is it something you read at random? If there’s a prologue, I tend to drift that direction, and hope it’s been included to give the book more depth. Teach Me To Forget was written with a prologue, then sent to Lauri at Black Opal with the option to remove said prologue since I’d included the information later in the book. She opted to include it, especially since there’s a brief scene at the end of the book mirroring the prologue, while resolving loose ends.
PROLOGUE
Summer 2000:
It was a storybook wedding. The elite of the world’s beautiful people crowded the groom’s yacht, cruising off the south French coast. The groom’s austere face was only slightly lined, the gray at his temples adding a distinguished air. His still trim body was clothed by the establishment which had enjoyed the patronage of every male in his family since his great-grandfather. Although he conversed urbanely with his guests, his possessive gaze never left his bride.
Framed in the lens of the ever-clicking camera, the bride had the lithe slenderness seen only in the very young and healthy. Delicate curves hinted at the woman she would one day become. Her short dark hair was gamine cut by the stylist who had created the look. Her make-up had been applied by the hands of the genius whose company had taken three generations of women from beautiful to gorgeous. Her lavish bouquet was of rare miniature white orchids, picked deep in the rain forests of South America and flown in for this ceremony. The lace for her veil had been created by devout hands in a convent which had produced lacework of this gossamer perfection for centuries.
The veil was secured by a pearl crown once belonging to a medieval princess. It framed a delicate, serious face dominated by enormous, hazy green eyes and a lush, slightly trembling mouth, and billowed down to hand made, four inch spike heels. By tradition the full length veil attested to the purity of the bride, leaving no doubt in the mind of anyone attending that day that this was, indeed, a virgin bride. The diaphanous covering enhanced her bridal outfit, personally designed by the hand of the dresser of royalty. Brilliant fire opals had been meticulously applied to the hand sewn, French-cut, white bikini.
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Pepper is another of those wonderful writers I met through Black Opal Books In fact she helped with the cover for My Killer My Love. She’s here today to share thoughts on the emotional roller coaster we feel once the book is done and out of our lives.
Okay, Now I’m Depressed
I know a lot of authors who, when they finish a book, go out and celebrate. The months or years of intense work—writing, revising, editing, and proofing—are finally done. They’ve sold it to a publisher and those edits are done, they have their cover, and all they have to do is sit back and wait until it’s released. They should celebrate. They’ve certainly earned it!
So what’s wrong with me? When I finish a book, after all the work is done, and I’m waiting for its release, I feel a little depressed. I’ve spent the last 6 months thinking about little else but my book and its characters. I’ve been intensely involved in their lives and escapades. I’ve shaped them, molded them, cajoled them, even screamed at them on occasion, struggled—sometimes for hours—picking just the right words to describe their emotions, thoughts, and actions, and now, suddenly, they no longer need me. It’s like waking up from a trance and wondering, Where am I? I have a bad case of “empty nest” on a huge scale and no longer know what to do with myself.
My new book, Black Ops Chronicles: Dead Men Don’t , which comes out on June 28th, is Levi’s story. Levi is one of my favorite 
characters from the first book in the series, Black Ops Chronicles: Dead Run. He’s a British black ops specialist. And he’s fun. I love his sense of humor and the way little things don’t faze him. So I really enjoyed writing his story. But now that it’s done and my days aren’t filled with the details of his life and adventures anymore, I miss him. I feel kind of like I’ve lost one of my best friends.
And when I sit down at my computer to write, I face a blank page instead of a developing story or one that just needs to be polished. Oh, I know that I’ll meet new characters in my next book and get to be involved in their lives. But I don’t know them yet, so I feel like a new student on the first day at a new school. What if nobody likes me? What if I can’t keep up? What if I’m not good enough to tell their story? What if…what if…All the doubts and insecurities, that I successfully buried to write the last book, bubble to the surface again and I have to force them back down, which is almost as hard as writing the darn book!
True, I do get a sense of accomplishment from seeing my new book on the shelf with the others. And I get a warm glow of pride if the reviews are good or one of my readers emails me that he/she loved the book and couldn’t put it down. But I know in my heart, that I’ll never leave “well-enough alone.” I have this compulsion to write fiction. And I can’t shake it. Already I can sense the characters from my next book knocking at my brain and telling me to get on with it. They want their story told, too. So now I get to face the months of intense work ahead of me to just to get the first draft done. And if that’s not bad enough, once I finally get the story to where I really like it and I’m excited and happy about it, it will be finished and, once again, I’ll be depressed. No more shaping, molding, cajoling, screaming, or struggling. My baby will stand on its own and it won’t need me anymore. Didn’t I just leave this party? Doesn’t hardly seem fair, does it?
And then I’ll get to start all over again on the next one. Is it any wonder I’m a little depressed?
NOTE: We can cheer ourselves up knowing Dead Men Don’t will be available in just a couple days…maybe even now! What a great way to spend the weekend!
ABOUT PEPPER:
Award-winning author, Pepper O’Neal is a researcher, a writer, and an adrenalin junkie. She has a doctorate in education and spent several years in Mexico and the Caribbean working as researcher for an educational resource firm based out of Mexico City. During that time, she met and befriended many adventurers like herself, including former CIA officers and members of organized crime. Her fiction is heavily influenced by the stories they shared with her, as well her own experiences abroad.
O’Neal attributes both her love of adventure and her compulsion to write fiction to her Irish and Cherokee ancestors. When she’s not at her computer, O’Neal spends her time taking long walks in the forests near her home or playing with her three cats. And of course, planning the next adventure.
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Mona Karel Author 