There are some new snippets of reviews up on my site plus some announcements in the news section.  For anyone who hasn’t read my FREE short story, please check it out.  It’s called Bogey Man. There are some new articles up on my site as well.
Take care all and thank you again, Bonnie for chatting with me this week.

Thanks again

Sheriff in her Stocking

When beautiful, plus-sized Anglo Delaney Moore finds herself stranded in a snowstorm at Christmas time in the small town of Avery, Montana, she meets the town’s sexy, hot-blooded Hispanic sheriff. Since she’s only staying til the storm clears, she sees no harm in indulging a little sexy fun.

Publisher’s Note: This book contains sexual practices that may be offensive to some readers: mild bondage.

ISBN# 978-1-59632-365-0  Sheriff in Her Stocking

http://www.loose-id.net/detail.aspx?ID=353

After a quick meal at the diner, Delaney patted her mouth with her napkin, looked at Rick. “I drove up to Billings today, picked up a few things.” Her voice was low and sexy. She stroked the tip of her finger over the back of his hand and gave him a greedy, female look. “Meet me in my jail cell in five minutes.” She kept her gaze pinned to his and licked her lips. “Don’t be late.”

He imagined her naked and moaning as he pounded into her the other night at the hot springs. He grew hard in an instant. “What happens if I’m late?”

Delaney smiled and rose from her chair. “I’ll have to punish you.”

Lust and want glided through him, settling warm and heavy in his groin. Rick watched the tantalizing sway of her hips as she left the diner. He took his time finishing his coffee and paying the check, making sure he would be late. Wondering what kind of punishment she had planned made his skin tight. He would have made her wait a bit longer but the enormous hard-on pressing against his pants needed relief ‑‑ now. He made sure his coat was zipped and covering his crotch as he left the diner. Quickly, he walked to the sheriff’s office.

As soon as he stepped inside, he removed his coat, hung it on the coat rack, and locked the door. Turning off the main lights in the office, he strolled to the doorway leading to the back of the office and Delaney’s cell. He stood quietly in the doorway watching her.

She wore nothing but a red silk thong and red spike heels on her feet. In her right hand she held a black, velvet whip. She paced from one side of the cell to the other like a lioness on the prowl, her bare ass and hips rocking seductively. As she paced, she slapped the soft whip against the cell floor. Her hair lay in a silken drape about her shoulders, her breasts were full and round, the nipples erect as if he’d had his mouth on them. If he shoved inside her at this very moment, would she be wet and ready to take him? The thought of her pussy creaming for him made his erection slide toward pain.

Candlelight glowed from several fat candles sitting on a small table that normally sat in the bathroom. Soft light filled the cell and danced over Delaney’s body illuminating her like a voluptuous goddess. His penis hardened more and his blood beat in a wild, ancient rhythm, the rhythm of a man who desperately needed to mate.

Rick moved slowly toward the cell, unbuttoning his shirt and unzipping his pants. At the sound of his footsteps, Delaney’s chin snapped up; she stopped and swept her gaze over him. He moved to the cell door, stepping out of his pants and underwear. His cock sprang free and the cool air wafted over it. He removed his shirt and kicked his clothes across the cell floor. They slid past Delaney’s feet.

She glanced briefly at them as they glided past. Her light pink tongue touched her upper lip before she gave his hard-on a come-and-screw-me smile. Her gaze shifted from his penis up to his eyes. “You’re late.”

He smiled slightly. “On purpose.”

She pursed her lips and a smile played around her mouth. “Oh, you’ve been a very bad boy.”

Her husky, sensuous voice sparked a surge of sexual need inside him.

“Whatever am I going to do with you?” She slapped the whip against the floor.

He stepped inside the cell and walked to her side. He stood close, close enough for his penis to nudge against the tiny silk triangle covering her pussy. “It’s not what you’re going to do with me, but what I’m going to do to you, in you, with you.”

An eager expression glinted in her eyes. “Oh, yeah, what’s that?”

He wanted to tame her, dominate her even more than he had the other night in the hot springs. He wanted her pliant legs spread, the essence of her open and ready to receive every solid, aroused inch of him. He dug his fingers under the straps barely holding the thong in place and tugged, hard. They snapped in two. The remainder of the thong floated to the floor leaving her naked and vulnerable. “Take off your shoes.”

Delaney raised a brow. “Make me.”

Her softly whispered challenge brushed over his nerve endings, urging him to shove inside her. He put his right hand over her mound, parted the labia, and ruthlessly rubbed his thumb over her clit once then stopped. With his other hand, he gave her buttocks a firm slap. Her breath caught in her throat. “Either you take off your shoes or that one little stroke over your clit is all you’re going to get until I’m good and ready to give you more.”

One corner of her mouth kicked up in a smile. She lifted her right leg, bringing her foot about level with his hip. He took off the shoe, tossed it aside. She lowered her foot and did the same with her left leg.

He threw her shoe over his shoulder. “Better, much better. Now put your arms around my neck and wrap your legs around my waist. Oh, and don’t let go of that whip.”

She did as he asked and he pushed between her thighs but didn’t enter her. He felt his cock rub over her clit, coating him with the essence of her body. He walked to the cot and laid her down. Climbing to his knees on the cot, he straddled her with his hard cock jutting between his legs. He gripped her ankles and bent her knees. Then he nudged the inside of her knees outward so that she opened for him even more. Her pussy appeared deep pink, wet and ready in the candlelight. She lay with her chest rising softly and her eyes fixed on his cock. “Lift your hands and lay them under your breasts, holding them up as if offering them to me.”

She raised her breasts to him and rubbed her thumbs over her nipples so they hardened further, the dusky pink nipples just begging for his lips and tongue. He shifted forward, placing the palms of his hands on either side of her upper arms, and looked at the delight waiting for him. “Don’t move your hands, don’t try to reach for me or touch me until I give you permission. I want to watch you fall apart; I want to see the passion and need rise in your eyes.” He stroked his thumb over her when she didn’t say anything. “Answer me.”

My favorite book…that’s a tough one.  Wolf Island will always have a special place in my heart because it was my first.  I just loved Dev and Abby. They seem so real to me its as if I could actually go to that fictional place and see them.

But I loved writing Cursed, with Love, The Secret Truth at Dare Ranch and Sheriff.  See what I mean?  It’s hard to choose.

The genre that challenges me the most are the books without suspense.  Plotting a mystery/suspense is easier for me because I can connect my character’s emotional arc along with the external suspense going on.  Without the suspense in an external plot it’s harder.

Yes, I love historicals and can’t wait to start writing!. I’m so excited about the prospect of writing one.  I love Sense and Sensibility too.  What a great story! Of course Pride and Prejudice–with Colin Firth–can’t be beat.  My absolute favorite love story of all time is Jane Eyre.  I just watched the Masterpiece Theater version on television.  It was fabulous! They had a great actor who played Rochester.
And yes, now that song from Grease is running through my head.  Thanks a lot, Bonnie.

Titanic is one of my favorite movies too!  I loved it!  It made barrels of money but the critics didn’t like it.

What’s next for me?

At present, I’m polishing a requested proposal for Brenda Chin at Harlequin.  This book is targeted for the BLAZE line.  It’s sensual, hot and sexy. I’m having a lot of fun with it.

I also have a romantic suspense series planned called The Amber Key series.  It’s set in Florida.  The first book involves a political assassin, my heroine is a former FBI agent working for her family’s security service and my hero is a political consultant.

I have a book planned called “Something Old, Something New, Something Dead” in which my heroine owns a wedding planning company and my hero is a funeral home director.

I have a book planned called “Cool River”.  I haven’t started fleshing this one out yet.  I only have the first scene in my head. All I know is that my heroine is a park ranger who lives in the Smoky Mountains in a house with her mother and her 12 year old daughter.

Something I haven’t tried yet…I’ve begun researching the Regency period because I’m dying to write a Regency-set historical.

I also have a historical series planned but it is not set in the Regency period.  It’s called The Organ Grinder Series.  It is more of a main stream historical but because I can’t help myself, there will be romance in it.

In August, I will be teaching an on-line class for the Heart of Carolina Romance Writers called Character in the Rough: How to Make Your Characters Shine like a Diamond. I will be teaching this class for the entire month of August. It is based on my first non-fiction collaborative project, “10 Steps to Creating Memorable Characters” which was released in print in December from Lone Eagle Publishing. Included in the class will be a section called “Herding Parakeets” – Writing the Exceptional Character.  By “exceptional” I mean a character who has a mental or physical disability. I have years of experience because my daughter is special needs.

Hopefully, all of the above will keep me busy for a while and out of trouble.

Speaking of garden pests, we have rabbits.  They will be back out in force in the spring no doubt.  They eat EVERYTHING!  I can’t have pansies anymore because they nip the blooms right off…grumble, grumble.

Okay, I’m done kvetching.

Reviews…they are important to me as a writer because I like getting some validation as do most writers I think.  Writing is a lonely business and it feels good to have someone say they liked my book.  Of course, I want my readers to like my books.  Readers mean everything to me.  Without them…(shuddering) no, it’s too scary to even contemplate.

One thing I try to remember is that writing is a very subjective business and when your work goes out for review you hope that the reviewer is in a good mood the day they read your book.  I also try to remember that even books that have gotten bad reviews have appeared on the NYT list.

I would love to have a reader come up to me and tell me how much they enjoyed my book.  I would be thrilled and delighted.  That would make my day, no my whole year!

Yes, I have been disillusioned, it happens daily as a matter of fact. I worry constantly that my work isn’t good enough, that readers and my publishers won’t like it. I worry about promotion, if I’m doing everything I can to promote my books, what is working, what is not working.

The thing that keeps me going is the need to tell stories. I love telling stories and I love writing. I’m not saying it’s easy because it isn’t.  Writing is hard–period. The competition is dog-eat-dog, down and dirty, brutal and ego deflating.  No question about it.

Plus the chances of me really making a dent in the publishing world are slim to none.  There are literally thousands of writers out there trying to do the same thing I’m doing, trying to grasp the NYT brass ring, trying to survive in the shark infested waters.  It’s like a bunch of starving curs fighting over a tiny scrap of meat.

Did I mention that it was hard?

All I can do is keep trying, keep writing, keep surviving.

Here are some brief quotes from some of my reviews followed by another excerpt–this time from Cursed, with Love.

Cursed, with Love – Romantic Times – 4 Stars

“Gorman pens a novel that expertly combines romance and mystery. The sexual tension between the protagonists is electric and the love scenes are spontaneous and intense…”

Cursed, with Love – Just Erotic Romance Reviews – 4 Stars
“Nick and Hope stepped off the pages and spoke to me and I found myself wanting to speak back!  The love triangle, including Cullinan, Abel O’Brien, the DA, and Abel’s sister-in-law is almost a story itself…”

The Secret Truth at Dare Ranch – Coffee Time Romance – 4 cups

“I loved how Ms. Gorman gave the hero sensitivity, and although strong, he could still have tears in his eyes.  These characters have layers that you get to see as they are peeled back one by one.  An intense, loving, and absorbing read…”

Sheriff in her Stocking – Coffee Time Romance – 5 Cups

“This story is a definite page turner that will have you reading it in one sitting, unable to leave it, even for a minute…”
Wolf Island – Coffee Time Romance 4 Cups

“I found this story to be breath-taking and beguiling all rolled into one. Bravo on a story well done, and one I will recommend to friends…”

******************************************************************

CURSED, WITH LOVE

Detective Nick Morelli lost his wife, but he can’t seem to let her go. He buries his heart in work, and tries to avoid emotional entanglements. Now, he’s been assigned to a plum case – tracking down a jewel thief amidst Denver’s posh elite. The only clue is a pristine white feather, signature of an infamous thief known only as “The Dove.” His prime suspect is Cullinan Benedict, the owner of a local antique shop.

From the first minutes of their meeting, Nick and Hope feel a powerful attraction. To get romantically involved would be a severe conflict of interest because of Cullinan’s status as a suspect. Also, protecting Cullinan and the secret must come first. Still, Nick and Hope must work together, and as their passion increases so does the danger – from the real thief, an organized crime lord with a terminal disease who will stop at nothing for the amulet that can cure him.

ISBN# 978-1-59632-293-6  Cursed, with Love

http://www.loose-id.net/detail.aspx?ID=337

They put on their coats and stepped outside into the clear, frigid night. As they walked along a shoveled path toward the southwest corner of the back yard, Hope could see the outline of the greenhouse huddled in the darkness. Mysterious shadows danced around the yard.

She looked up at a thin crescent moon hanging in the black velvet sky crammed with stars then glanced over at Nick. Fear for her brother clouded her mind. She had to protect him and the key was turning the tables on Nick Morelli.

From Nick’s pointed questions a few minutes ago, it was obvious that he thought Cullinan had committed the robbery at Abel’s house. Did he suspect her as well? That crack about breaking the law still rankled. She was an honorable attorney now, not the cat burglar she used to be working jobs alongside her father and brother.

To top it off, she was attracted to Nick, the dedicated cop who was going to try to bring her brother down. What was she going to do about her attraction? Absolutely nothing. She had Cullinan to think about, not her own libido.

Hope shivered inside her coat against the cold. She wouldn’t see him again, she vowed silently. Unless he came to her office on official business. Otherwise, no more home-cooked meals for two in the warm, cozy interior of his house or anywhere else for that matter. She should have insisted he come to her office in the first place instead of agreeing to meet him on his own turf.

She felt him walking next to her, the warmth and scent of his body reaching out, surrounding her. Their breath mingled and dissipated into the night. Her pulse tumbled. The man was definitely hot. God help her, she was starting to forget the reason she was here in the first place.

Nick had raised the stakes considerably by focusing his attention on Cullinan. She had to get a firm grip on her hormones and find out everything she could about his investigation if she was going to keep her brother safe. The insane attraction she felt for Nick had disaster written all over it.

When they reached the small lean-to greenhouse, Nick opened the door and they stepped inside the warm, humid interior. He flipped a switch and light washed through the space. The air smelled of healthy plants, soil and fertilizer. Nick pressed a button on a CD player sitting on a shelf by the door and the sound of a saxophone, deep and sensual, permeated the room.

Interesting, a man who nurtures plants with music. Hope looked around at the snug interior about the size of her office. There were three planting benches along a wall lined with glass shelving that made an efficient use of the small space. Plastic flats marked with the name and planting date of new seedlings that appeared green and healthy filled the shelves … “Lovely.”

“Thanks.” There was a hint of pride in his voice. “It’s got everything I need, a water supply, work benches, a heater for controlling the temperature and shades to diffuse the sunlight when I need to.”

She had a sudden image of her mother patting the soil around a newly planted rose bush. “My mother would have loved it here. She had quite a green thumb.” Hope sighed. “I’m not very good with plants I’m afraid, so you’ll have to educate me.”

As they strolled around the room, Hope grew warm and took off her coat. She wasn’t sure if it was because of the temperature of the greenhouse, the spicy jazz playing, or Nick’s presence by her side. Hope stopped now and then to study the pots of flowers and herbs. Along the far end, she spied a rather sickly looking geranium. “This one doesn’t look so good …”

Nick moved up behind her and looked over her shoulder. Hope smelled his soap and the light tangy hint of aftershave. She closed her eyes, took a long, slow breath and just breathed him in. Hope wanted to lean against him and see if his chest was as solid as it looked. Her eyes popped open in shock at how quickly she brushed aside her vow to control her attraction.

“My mother had it in her kitchen …” He stood so close that his breath blew against Hope’s ear. She swallowed hard as desire made her skin grow warm and tight. The only reason she felt this attraction, she reminded herself, was that it had been too damn long since she’d had sex. Yes, that was it. Nothing more.

“I should have known better than to give her a plant.” Nick’s voice rang with affection, seemingly completely oblivious to her growing desire. “In a few more weeks, you’ll never know it had been neglected.”

Hope had begun to feel neglected herself. Sexually speaking, that is. Her own fault, she supposed. She’d been focusing solely on work for the past several months. If she had been going out on a regular basis, she wouldn’t feel this intense attraction for Nick. Maybe if she told herself that a few hundred times she’d start to believe it. The music changed to a familiar song, and Hope couldn’t help but smile at the memory it evoked.

“Why are you smiling?” Nick asked, still looking over her shoulder.

Startled out of her thoughts, Hope turned. He was close, much too close but she couldn’t bring herself to step away from his enticing maleness. “I was just thinking that I haven’t heard that song since the night of my prom.”

His blue gaze slid to her mouth. What if he tried to kiss her? Would she let him? Yes, a voice said in her mind. No, her more rational side answered.

“Want to dance?”

Not a good idea. Her pheromones were already running amok. “I don’t think I remember how.” Darn it, her voice had a breathless quality she was unable to control.

Nick moved closer and slid one arm around her waist. Only a dizzying current of lustful awareness separated their bodies. “Sure you do.” His soft statement stirred her desire. “It’s just like making love. Once you get busy … all the moves come rushing back.”

Heat curled through her belly at the sound of his deep, sexy voice and the way he wrapped his tongue around the words “making love.” A sudden vision of what he might look like naked popped into her brain and her heart rate kicked into overdrive. She shook away the image, trying desperately to shift her emotions back to solid ground again. Just because the guy was a definite turn-on didn’t mean she had to do anything about it, right?

Nick locked eyes with her and seemed to probe to her very soul. The air between them grew thick with tension. Her pulse throbbed and her heart shuddered with desire. He was getting to her. His eyes, his mouth, everything about him tempted her senses. She needed to get away from his irresistible male attraction before she did something they would both regret.

Before she could pull out of his embrace, Nick grasped her right hand and lifted her arm before easing her into a slow dance. Little wings of sexual need beat steadily in her stomach. Warmth from his hand burned through hers and into her body. Her breath grew shallow and her knees felt weak as Nick kept his gaze directly on hers. The music slowed as the song ended. He crowded her next to a table and stopped. When he removed his arm from around her waist, she suddenly felt cold.

With delicate precision, he traced around her mouth with his finger. His breath fanned over her lips. Hope’s throat grew tight and her mouth tingled. For a minute, she imagined him caressing her not just with his finger, but his whole hand – no, make that body. What was she thinking?

Slowly, he lifted the hand he still held gently in his and kissed her palm with just a hint of tongue. Her stomach slid to her toes.

“Thanks for the dance.”

I get enormous support from my family.  My husband and daughter practically strike up a band and sing hallelujah every chance they get.  My mother calls me the family “celebrity” which is hilarious on many levels. I’m about as far from being a “celebrity” as you can get.  I’m writing this in my pj’s, my hair in a messy pony tail, no makeup, sipping my second cup of tea having just consumed my usual bowl of cereal.

Thank you for your kind remarks in regard to my writing.  I’m trying…my craft is definitely a work in progress. I learn something new every time I write. My goal with each book is to write the best story I can. If the readers like it, I’ve done my job.

Here is another excerpt from Sheriff.  Hope you enjoy it.   The reviews for this book have been phenomenal. )

******************************************************************

Rick leaned against the side of the red car and watched Delaney. She was clad in a heavy jacket, but the hem lifted up from where she leaned under the hood, giving him a nice view of her luscious bottom covered in faded jeans. A few tools lay at her feet. He heard a soft curse.

“Got a phantom in your manifold?”

Delaney straightened from beneath the hood with a wrench in her right hand. The florescent light inside the garage highlighted her bright, blue eyes and shone down on her blonde hair she’d gathered into a messy ponytail. She smiled and he fought the urge to touch her. “Not exactly but the engine does have a couple of problems.”

Rick folded his arms over his chest. “Such as?”

She lifted her right hand and brushed a strand of blonde hair from her eyes. She raked her top teeth over her bottom lip then rubbed it with her tongue. A long, slow curl of lust arrowed from his gut to his groin. God, the woman made him hot. He wished to hell he could figure out why so that he could stop it.

Delaney cocked her head to the side and raised her right brow. “Are you curious about engines?”

Not about engines, about her. He’d never known a woman who was interested in the inner workings of a car. As long as the vehicle started when they turned the key, they didn’t care. “Let me put it this way. I can change the oil, battery and spark plugs but beyond that I rely on the experts. You seem to know a lot more. I was wondering why.”

She laid the crescent wrench on the roof of the car and looked at him. “I was the son my father never had.”

Her eyes clouded briefly with an emotion he couldn’t read then it was gone.

“He taught me about cars so I wouldn’t be taken advantage of by a mechanic who figured I was a dumb blonde who didn’t know anything about engines.”

“So what’s wrong with your car?”

She sighed. “The radiator has a leak and there could be a problem with the crankshaft.”

“What’s in the crankshaft?” He knew but he wanted her to tell him.

“It contains pistons that basically move up and down … in and out.” Her voice was matter-of-fact as if she was teaching an automotive class, but for him a sensual image formed in his mind. He clasped his palms around Delaney’s bare buttocks and lifted her up. She wrapped her legs around his waist as he pressed her against the side of the car, moved his hips forward, and plunged deep within her.

“Are you okay?”

Delaney’s question snapped Rick out of his sexual haze. Damn it, he was acting like a teenager caught up in the confusing excitement of male hormones. He was a police officer who needed to get his brains out of his pants. “Yeah, I’m fine. How do the pistons work? Show me.”

She touched the smooth, pale column of her throat as her eyes sent him a silent message of lust and longing. He suddenly had an irresistible urge to lick her neck plus a whole lot more. “The pistons are tubular in shape and they fit inside the cylinder.”

Heat bloomed in his belly and slid lower. She was killing him and didn’t even know it. Well, damn it, he didn’t want to be the only one to suffer. “Is it a tight fit?”

A gleam of sensual interest filled her gaze. She stepped closer to him.

Oh, yeah, come to daddy.

“It isn’t … tight, exactly.” Her silky voice stroked his male desire with a seductive touch. Quiet filled the garage in a thick blanket of hopeful expectation. Rick stared at Delaney, the tawny glow of her hair under the light, her blue eyes gleaming with a curious, unresolved longing. Her full, pink lips beckoned him to slide his tongue inside her mouth and satisfy them both.

With the tip of his finger, Rick touched the indentation above her top lip then stroked his finger down over her lips. She parted her lips and closed them around the end of his finger. He felt the tip of her tongue flick over his skin. He kept his finger there hoping she would do it again and she didn’t disappoint him. What the hell was he doing? He knew it was wrong but he couldn’t seem to stop himself. “Snug? Close?”

Her gaze lowered to his mouth. “Uh-huh.”

Oh yeah. It would definitely be snug. Her tongue nudged against his finger again. He felt the blood leave his brain and gush in a torrent to his groin. “What happens next?”

Her eyes locked onto his. “Next?”

Rick slid his finger from between her lips and trailed a damp path down her neck to the hollow of her throat. “Once the piston gets inside the cylinder, does it lie still?” No way. “Or does it move?”

Her breath shuddered out. “It moves back and forth.”

Damn right. He wanted to slip his hand inside her coat beneath her sweater and bra, if she was wearing one, until he cupped the warm, soft flesh of her breasts. “What makes it move, Delaney?”

Hot, nervy tension formed a thread between them. She swallowed and tilted her head as if she were going to kiss him. “Force.” Her voice was husky and soft.

Yes, it would be a force of pure, sexual lust and energy, the kind generated between a man and a woman. His gaze skimmed her face. Dreamy eyes, nice nose, and a mouth that promised untold pleasures. He wanted to stroke his hands over every inch of her body. Was she as soft and pampered between her thighs as the rest of her skin looked? Would her breath hitch and a moan glide from her throat when he slipped inside her? Would she react to him the way she did during her dream? “Does it move fast or slow?

“It starts sort of slow then it pumps more rapidly.”

Hmm. Hard, fast and deep. Oh, God. “All that pumping’s bound to cause some friction.”

Her eyes darkened slightly. “Friction?”

“You know, heat, Delaney.”

She nodded. “There’s a lot of heat.”

There would be fire, hot licks of it drenched with sweat. “With all that heat being generated, a piston probably needs some kind of lubrication.”

He could imagine the lubrication involved. “Tell me, Delaney, about the lubrication. Is it slick and hot, coating everything to insure smooth, deep penetration?”

Her lips parted on a sigh and her eyes glazed as if in passion. “Uh-huh.”

Rick dipped his head, until his mouth was a fraction away from hers and their breath mingled. One taste. All he needed was one taste and he could handcuff his insane desire where Delaney was concerned.

When his lips barely touched Delaney’s, he heard footsteps.

“Need any help?”

My web site address is www.chergorman.com

Hope you enjoy it!

Sheriff in her Stocking

When beautiful, plus-sized Anglo Delaney Moore finds herself stranded in a snowstorm at Christmas time in the small town of Avery, Montana, she meets the town’s sexy, hot-blooded Hispanic sheriff. Since she’s only staying til the storm clears, she sees no harm in indulging a little sexy fun.

Publisher’s Note: This book contains sexual practices that may be offensive to some readers: mild bondage.

ISBN# 978-1-59632-365-0  Sheriff in Her Stocking

http://www.loose-id.net/detail.aspx?ID=353

********************************************************************

As if in slow motion, the car plowed into the snow bank with a muffled crunch. Snow sailed upward into the air and landed with a soft plop onto the hood of her car. Delaney jerked in the seat but avoided hitting her head on the steering wheel. The cookie flew from her mouth, hit the windscreen and broke into several pieces before falling to the dashboard. The engine sputtered once and died. Quickly, Delaney turned the key in the ignition. Click. “Please start …” She tried again. Click. There wasn’t even the slightest whine from the engine. “I can’t believe this is happening,” she murmured to herself.

Shoving down her skirt, Delaney reached up and gripped his hands. She attempted to plant her feet firmly under her, but as she struggled to regain her balance, she fell against him. She let go of his hands and placed her palms on his chest. Pushing back a little, she lifted her chin. Her gaze collided with his. “I’m really sorry. I’m usually not this clumsy.”
He threw her another half-smile and she nearly melted into the snow. “Don’t worry about it.”

My heroines are definitely not the wimpy types.  I try to make my girls strong but vulnerable. They are take charge, damn the torpedoes, meet whatever comes down the pike kind of women.  I don’t write the Alias or Mrs. Smith kind of characters, who go around shooting people or performing death defying stunts–at least not yet. Who knows, maybe I will some day.   I have a future book planned in which my heroine is a former FBI agent.
My most recent book, The Secret Truth at Dare Ranch from Wings ePress–available in POD from the publisher is a secret baby story with a twist–and no, Bonnie, not that kind of twist.   I’m a quick study.  Now I know how your mind works. )

I wrote this book a few years ago and at that time I did character outlines and wrote a list of their GMC both external and internal.  Nowadays, I write a synopsis first, before I begin writing.  This book went through several revisions.  I was lucky to have help from a former Silhouette editor, Melissa Senate.  She was wonderful and helped me tremendously.  In this book, I identified with my heroine because she is a mother and loves horses as I do.  Although I don’t own any myself.  I live in suburbia now.  Here is a blurb and an excerpt from the book.  Enjoy!

The Secret Truth at Dare Ranch

A Contemporary Western Romance released February 1, 2007 from Wings ePress

He was back. Ranch owner, Lexie Dare never thought she would see her child’s father again. Now Mitch Quinn not only wants to buy her ranch but also be a father to the child she has kept secret for seven years.

Set on a ranch in the Colorado high country The Secret Truth at Dare Ranch tells the story of a woman struggling to save her failing ranch and overcome the tragedy of her brother’s death and one man’s determination to preserve his best friend’s memory.

When hardworking ranch owner and devoted mother, Alexa “Lexie” Dare learns that Mitch Quinn, her heart-stopping cocky friend from childhood wants to buy her failing ranch, she is stunned and desperate to stop him. But as the days go by, mutual attraction, shared kisses and time spent with their daughter draw them closer together emotionally. Has the passion they shared one long ago night truly ever been extinguished? Or is the tragedy of the past too much for love to overcome?

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The doorbell rang twenty minutes after Lexie stepped inside the house. She reluctantly strode out of the kitchen and down the hallway to the front door. She stopped beside the door, looked through the sidelight and saw Mitch standing on the front porch.

Lexie tried to calm her racing heart and ease the cold knot of anxiety forming in her stomach. She was thankful Dani was upstairs doing her homework. She flicked the lock on the door and swung the panel open. Lexie squared her shoulders. His tie was gone, his eyes clear and focused. He looked calm, unruffled. She’d been churned up since the moment she’d laid eyes on him earlier in the barn.

“Can I come in?”

“Sure, I’m making dinner. Come into the kitchen.” She moved to the side so he could enter. He followed her down the hall, close on her heels. The sound of his footsteps echoed on the wood floor like a death knell. Her nerve endings burned. Oh God, she had to tell him the truth.

She walked into the kitchen and headed for the stove. “Have a seat. Would you like something to drink?” she asked over her shoulder.

“No, thanks.”

Lexie felt Mitch’s gaze bore into her, move over her. Slowly, deliberately, she removed the chicken from the pan and laid it on a platter. Her hand shook when she reached for the spoon to give the pot of green beans a stir. The kitchen clock ticked, ticked, ticked away the time. The refrigerator hummed. Everyday, normal sounds. Only today was far from normal.

A chair scraped over the kitchen floor. Her heart leapt into her throat. She spun quickly at the noise. Mitch lowered his tall, very male frame into the chair. His gaze watched her every move; his mouth curved, but it wasn’t a smile.

“Ready to talk?” he asked in a flat tone.

How will I ever make him understand?

Lexie turned down the flame under the beans and walked to the table. She sat down slowly, mechanically, and rubbed her sweaty palms over the top of her jean-covered thighs. There was only one way for her to say it. “Dani’s your daughter,” she blurted, following it with a heavy sigh at finally being able to say the words out loud to Mitch.

She waited a few seconds then flicked her gaze up to his. Mitch slumped back in his chair and nodded as understanding dawned on his face. “I thought she looked a little like my dad. How could I not have recognized my own child?”

He flicked his gaze to hers, his eyes probing to her soul, a frown creasing his brow. “Why the hell didn’t you tell me?”

Shudders of uneasiness quaked through her body. Tension sparked along her nerves. Lexie reached out, laid her hand on his warm, strong arm. If only those arms could have held her through the last seven years. He moved his arm away from her touch, letting her hand settle on the table’s hard surface. His rejection of her touch hurt her but she pushed the hurt aside. “I didn’t want you to feel trapped into coming home to Chimney Rock.”

She stared at the stubborn set of his jaw, the grim line of his mouth. “We didn’t love each other, Mitch,” she said in a matter-of-fact tone. “That night we were just two people reaching out to one another. When I asked you to marry me, I was desperate,” she said with a slight lift of her hand. “Nothing more. I realized later it wouldn’t have been fair to you. Or to me.  And certainly not to Dani.”

She said the words softly and prayed with all her might that he would understand.

He turned his head and stared at her. “Fair? That’s a lousy excuse.” He bit the words out in rapid succession.

Lexie straightened her shoulders, refusing to let him make her question her decision. “I did what I thought was right.”

“You think it was right to keep my child from me?” he asked in a harsh, incredulous tone.

Lexie’s heart lay panting in her chest. I did the right thing. She rose from her chair and walked to the kitchen window. She stared at the rose bushes in the back yard, their bright yellow petals turning brown, like the passion that she and Mitch once shared. She turned her head and looked at him. “I know you’re mad, but please try to understand.”

He laughed, chilling her to the bone, the sound cold, mirthless. “Understand? I’m Dani’s father for Christ’s sake and I never knew about her until today,” he said with a bitter edge of irony in his voice.

His scathing words clawed over her already frayed nerves. She heard him exhale in frustration. “Tell me what happened,” he demanded in a cross tone. “Tell me everything.”

Lexie walked back to the table and sat down. She put her palms together and clasped her hands between her knees to keep them from trembling. Anger and confrontation never failed to upset her. “Eight weeks after you left I started getting sick to my stomach first thing in the morning. I went to the doctor and discovered I was pregnant.”

She looked at Mitch. His face appeared calmer now, the anger faded, but he held his mouth in a tight line. “How did you feel about it?” he asked in a more composed tone.

Lexie exhaled and massaged the tense muscles in the back of her neck with her fingers. “I was terrified, excited, happy. I told Vivian right away since she was my best friend and swore her to secrecy. When I knew I could no longer hide my pregnancy I told your father.

“They both wanted me to tell you and tell my father. I refused both,” she said quickly not giving Mitch a chance to interrupt her. “They threatened to tell you if I didn’t, but I begged them not to. I knew in my heart you didn’t want to be caught in a loveless marriage.” Her voice was a ragged whisper.

“How did you know what I wanted? You never asked me.” His brittle words like dry fallen leaves scraped over the ball of guilt spreading through her chest.

“I wanted you to succeed. If you had been saddled with a wife and child you would have ended up resenting us both.” Lexie paused to restore her composure. Her voice broke with emotions she’d kept bottled up for years. Didn’t he understand she had cared enough about all three of them to let him go? “I would have suffered, you would have suffered, but Dani would have suffered the most.” Her voice was steadier now as the fear over telling Mitch the truth receded. Frustration bloomed in its place. “I didn’t tell you because I knew you didn’t want a commitment and I wasn’t sure about my feelings for you. I was sure of only one thing: I wanted to have the baby.”

Mitch shifted in his chair. He locked his jaw and his lips thinned. Her reasons seemed only to infuriate him more. She understood why. He’d just found out he was a father.

Lexie looked down at her jeans and brushed some dust away. “Dad blew a gasket.” She lifted a hand and let it fall in a what-else gesture. “He got raging drunk and called me a whore.” The hurt she felt in that long ago moment still stung, pricking her heart dead center poking at the wounds that had yet to heal. She swallowed against the anguish, blinking back her tears. “He couldn’t bear the thought of his daughter bearing your child, the son of the man he blamed for killing Parker.” Her voice still sounded fragile to her own ears. She inhaled a deep breath to help ease the pain she felt at the memory.

His gaze cut to hers; he impaled her with anger, misery filling his eyes. “Go on,” he insisted in a rigid voice.

She licked her lips and swallowed. “He kicked me out. I had no place to go except to Vivian. I lived with her until Dani was born. The night she was born a snowstorm blew in. We barely made it to Doc Grant’s clinic,” she said with a slight smile remembering the most joyful and frightening moment of her life.

“Vivian stayed with me the whole time. She even helped me with the baby after the birth.” Lexie chuckled as the memories of caring for a newborn came flooding back. “We knew next to nothing about babies, but boy did we learn fast.”

He leaned forward, his hands resting on his thighs. “So everybody knew about Dani but me,” he stated in a scornful tone.

Compassion for his anger at her deception nudged her heart but she was so damn sick of feeling guilty. She needed to finish this, she needed to expunge her guilt, she needed to tell him everything. “My father came to see me at Vivian’s house. He said tongues were wagging about him abandoning his daughter and he wanted me to come home. Since he’d been on the city council and even served one term as mayor, he was worried about his precious reputation,” she said in a voice laced with sarcasm.

Mitch rose from his chair, placed his palms on the table and leaned close to Lexie. He looked down at her, his face a hard mask of anger. Fear ravenously nibbled at her insides as instinct had her pressing against the back of her chair. She’d never seen him so furious.

“How could you hurt me like this? And my father was in on it, too?” His voice grated with animosity.

How could she hurt him? She was tired of shouldering the guilt about keeping Dani a secret. She was tired of Mitch’s holier-than-thou attitude. She was tired—period. Lexie straightened her shoulders and leaned forward until they were eye to eye. “You didn’t come back to Chimney Rock for seven years, not even to visit your father. He always visited you. You didn’t call. You didn’t write. For all I knew you were never coming back. When, during that time of not receiving even one token communication from you, was I supposed to tell you about Dani?”

He straightened, clenched his hands into fists at his sides and glared at her. “I’ve got to get out of here before I say something I’ll regret.”

Okay….something about myself that you won’t find on my web site…Let’s see, I’ll give you not one but three things.  First, I can drive and operate a back hoe. Second, I know how to cut and lay tile. And Third, I have a writing companion in my office with me at all times. He is soft and brown with only three inch legs.

Cher