Monday, May 26, 2014

Crane by Stacey Rourke ~ Release day!!

I have been so excited about this book and I'm sure you'll want to go out and get it too! Take a look!!

Synopsis


The Horseman is unending,
his presence shan’t lessen.
If you break the curse,
you become the legend.

Washington Irving and Rip Van Winkle had no choice but to cover up the deadly truth behind Ichabod Crane’s disappearance. Centuries later, a Crane returns to Sleepy Hollow awakening macabre secrets once believed to be buried deep.

What if the monster that spawned the legend lived within you?

Now, Ireland Crane, reeling from a break-up and seeking a fresh start, must rely on the newly awakened Rip Van Winkle to discover the key to channeling the darkness swirling within her. Bodies are piling high and Ireland is the only one that can save Sleepy Hollow by embracing her own damning curse.

But is anyone truly safe when the Horseman rides?


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Excerpt
Chapter One:

If his wife hadn’t let her ass grow to the size of a sofa, Vic wouldn’t have to cheat. Shrugging his navy blue sport coat over his shoulders, he stepped forward, allowing the hotel room door to shut behind him with a soft thump. A smug smile curled across his face, his chest puffing with pride at his own prowess—thanks in part to those spiffy little blue pills his doctor prescribed. The heels of his wing-tipped loafers clicked against the cement stairs, one impeccably manicured hand running along the handrail as he descended. The rusted metal rail squeaked its protest under the faint touch. Taking its suggestion, he retracted his hand. 

Why he humored Karma by letting her drag him to this dive every week, he had no idea.

Her firm little apple bottom isn’t that great, he mused to himself, snorting a quick, dry laugh. 

Of course it was. She made good money with it at the Sugar Shack down by the airport. Grinding to R&B’s raunchiest hits, while clad only in a sequin thong. She was a sweet, albeit na├»ve, girl that believed if she stroked Vic’s … ahem, ego just the way he liked, she would someday find a fat rock on her finger and the title of Van Tassel behind her name. Hence her insistence on the flea bag hotel. She had

flipped her bleached blonde waves, batted those ridiculous fake eyelashes, and pouted that she couldn’t be seen as the “other woman” by the same crowd she would soon be rubbing elbows with. As if he would ever let that happen. Karma’s airbrushed nails and hooker heels would never fit into his world. After all, in Tarrytown the Van Tassel name meant something, and not because of the stupid legend the residents of the small glen of Sleepy Hollow mercilessly clung to. No, as one of the founding families they helped build this town. Meaning, here, he might as well be a Rockefeller. A fact he reveled in and would never tarnish with outward displays of his cheap conquests … no matter how well she could wiggle. 

Vic crossed the parking lot, lit only by one humming street lamp, with a wide, jovial stride. As he shook his keys from the pocket of his slacks, thumbing the button to unlock the doors, his phone buzzed from the breast pocket of his Armani shirt. 

Snatching it from its resting place, he tapped to answer. “Yello?”

“Don’t you sound chipper for someone working late?” Yvonne slurred, the only hint he needed that she’d already cracked open tonight’s bottle of wine. 

“Why shouldn’t I be chipper?” he playfully asked, turning to glance back up toward the room Karma had rented. A flash of her blonde locks appeared from behind the stained drapes. He raised his hand in a casual wave, but couldn’t tell from this distance if she returned the gesture. “I just finished showing a multi-million dollar estate that the buyers are very interested in, and now I get to head home to my loving wife.” 

“Yeah, right,” Yvonne openly scoffed, her voice muffled by her glass as she took another sip. “We’re the friggin’ Cleavers. Hey, Cassidy is at the mall. I need you pick her up on your—“

Vic jerked his head to the right, in the direction of the neighboring gas station. Between the normal ebb and flow of rushing traffic, he heard the distinct snap of hoof beats pounding over pavement. “What kind of idiot would bring a horse out this close to the highway?” 

“The highway? Where the hell are you, Victor?” 

A moment ago the drum of the approaching rider had been coming from the south of him, Vic was sure of it. Yet somehow, without so much as a faltered step, it shifted to the north. “Stopped for gas, that’s all.” Vic paid little attention to the lie rolling off his tongue as he rose up on tiptoe and craned his neck to peer into the darkness. 

“Oh!” Her momentary flash of accusation was all but forgotten at the exciting prospect of fresh booze. “Are you near Gordon Bleau’s? I need a bottle of Amaretto.” 

Vic stifled a cringe at the thought of his wife’s mixed drink induced wandering hands. If he wanted to fend off an overly Botoxed hag that reeked of booze, he’d go visit Nana at the home. Her old biddy friends loved him, and putting in his time there helped secure his spot in her will. “I’d love to, pet, but I’d hate to keep Cass waiting.” 

A hot, snorted breath heated the exposed skin of Vic’s neck, tickling down the collar of his shirt. He spun, his heart pounding painfully in his chest, and pressed his back to the car door. Chills raced up and down his spine, electrifying his entire body. Nothing. There was nothing before him but that lone buzzing light and the seedy motel. “Damn it! Punk kids!”

“And they have a horse?” Yvonne’s giggle morphed into a hiccup. “You better watch out, Vic. It could be one of those lesser known equestrian gangs.” 

The lightning that flashed on the otherwise calm night was the only omen Vic needed to spur him into action. Throwing himself off the car, his trembling fingers fumbled with the door handle. Behind him, metal hissed free from leather. Slowly—with a cold, hard fist of dread clenching his gut—his head swiveled.

“Oh,” he said with a nervous lilt of laughter to the ominous symphony of black before him. “That’s … good. You got me. I really believed for a sec—” 

Vic’s anxious, cracking plea morphed into a scream as the figure pulled back. The blade of their arched sword gleaming gold under the yellow-hued light. 

Victor’s hands raised in the only defense he could offer. “No! Noooo!” 

He sucked in one last gasp as metal winged through the air. 

“Vic? Victor!” Yvonne screamed, panic clearing her alcohol induced haze. “What’s happening?” 

The only response she received came in the form of a ghostly whinny … followed by a soft thump. Her shrieks were muted as the phone tumbled to the ground—right next to Vic’s still rolling head.




RONE Award Winner for Best YA Paranormal Work of 2012 for Embrace, a Gryphon Series Novel

Young Adult and Teen Reader voted Author of the Year 2012

Turning Pages Magazine Winner for Best YA book of 2013 & Best Teen Book of 2013

Stacey Rourke lives in Michigan with her husband, two beautiful daughters, and two giant, dogs. She loves to travel, has an unhealthy shoe addiction and considers herself blessed to make a career out of talking to the imaginary people that live in her head.









Tuesday, May 20, 2014

Fissure Free by Shari J. Ryan





Author Shari J Ryan reunites the colorful cast of friends and family in Book 2 of the Schasm Series with a powerful tribute to the power of the mind and heart in this romantic, suspenseful, and engaging novel.

After nineteen years of suffering with a psychological condition, ethereal Chloe had finally come close to finding her ultimate escape—or, so she thinks on the vibrant streets of Paris.
Finally in a relationship with Alex, a man she fell in love with in Schasm, Chloe thinks life is finally coming together. As she battles her own demons, she attempts to repair the damaged man she’s grown to love. But as his clouded past abruptly crashes into their lives and falls heavily upon their budding romance, Chloe must fight to maintain her relationship.

Although even when the problems begin to subside, she comes to realize certain things cannot be escaped. Franco, her disillusioned, serial-killing uncle has taken up residency in Chloe and Alex’s life. In search for an item that belongs to Chloe, Franco will deceive, connive and conquer until he finds what he is after—that is, unless, Chloe finds a way to beat him at his own game.

Just as Chloe believes she might have sealed the doors of darkness once and for all, new questions, new findings and new inceptions arise. Whether or not Chloe wants to continue forward with the path her life seems to be leading, she quickly learns that any choice she makes will ultimately land her in a place she never knew she was destined to be.

My Review

Fissure Free is the next book after Schasm. It picks up six months after Schasm ends. Chloe and Alex are trapped in their dream world. They have an apartment in Paris, Chloe is taking classes at the university and Alex has found a job. They are both happy living in this alternate reality within their minds, but they both know what’s happening in the real world. The real world for them is dark and cold and harsh. They are locked in an abandoned asylum by the murderous Franco. Chloe learns that her multiple personality uncle France/James/Thomas fathered a child and she has found her cousin Keira. Can Keira help them escape the asylum? Or will Franco take over and kill them all?

I loved the first book Schasm and I was so excited about this one! I was a tiny bit disappointed that it started out slow, but about a quarter of the way in it hooked me! This book has got suspense and will keep you turning the pages quickly. The endings of these books don’t have huge cliffhangers, but the story has enough drama and unanswered questions to leave you wanting more when it’s done. I can’t wait for the next book in this series.  I give this one 4 stars because it took me longer to hook me. It was still very good though and I recommend this series if you like YA drama/ paranormal romance. Really good read!









My heart quakes against my sternum. My stomach feels like stone, and my throat is clenching in on itself. I walk to the other bar covered window, completely horrified. I curl my fingers around the damp, ice-cold bars, and I pull myself up, pressing my face against the metal to look out.
The hallway is just as dark and abandoned as this room. The walls are painted a sea green. They’re cracked and peeling, and old rusty handcuffs hang from chains that line the wall. I peer down the other end of the hall, somewhat curious and somewhat petrified as to what I might see. The words “help me” are smeared along the wall in what looks to be blood.
Against my desire, I take in every detail of this deserted passageway, hoping to gain insight on where we might be. But I’m lost and dumfounded. An abandoned institution is the best I can come up with.
Sounds of footsteps arise from the depths of the barren walls, and the dissonance increases with each footstep, warning me that someone is coming. The hallway only has two directions and I don’t see anyone in either.
I’m going crazy.
I could only hope.
The footsteps stop, as does the beating of my heart. I close my eyes and pull in a deep lungful. But I inhale someone else’s warm, stale breath. My eyes snap open, and two large bulging brown eyes stare back at me. My chest caves in. My lungs struggle to move, and I fall backwards.



Shari J. Ryan hails from Central Massachusetts where she lives with her hubby and two lively little boys. Writing has become Shari’s great escape from the real world over the past few years. After a bout of postpartum depression with her first child, Shari was determined to occupy her brain enough to eliminate some of the blue moments in life. When she found writing to help as a newfound therapy, she started her first book. Her books brought her out of postpartum depression and helped her overcome it when her second son was born. Shari likes to think writing saves her mind. She even used one of the characters in the book (the main character’s protagonist mother), to veer away from the type of person she refuses to become. Shari has two happy little boys and the Schasm series to show for her unorthodox therapeutic method.

Website: http://sharijryan.com/
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/authorsharijryan
Twitter: https://twitter.com/sharijryan
Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/ShariRyan






Chloe Valcourt drifts between two worlds: the dark reality of her domineering mother and feeble father and the vivid fantasy of her imagination. With her condition comes the harsh observation of doctors who intend to cure her of it. But a chance encounter with a handsome and vaguely familiar young man in her dream world hints at the possibility of hidden truths—and a life she can’t remember. As her drifts become a greater escape from the cruelty of the real world, Chloe finds herself lost between what is real and what is imagined, questioning her very existence. Can she remain in the lush new imagined landscape to find happiness in a realm of her own invention? Is she doomed to return to the harsh reality of the outside world forever? Or will she become trapped somewhere between the two…unable to return to either?


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Monday, May 19, 2014

Dangerous Protector by Milly Taiden





Dangerous Protector
Federal Paranormal Unit 2

If you run from love, you're asking for a chase... 
James Brock lived the past ten years without the woman he loves. Using his job as head of the Federal Paranormal Unit to help others, he's done a good job of ignoring his lack of a personal life until she returns. His salvation. His first love. 
Cynthia Vega had a very good reason to leave the only man she loved after she'd accepted his marriage proposal. Now she's back as his boss. And he's not willing to ignore their chemistry or the past. 
Brock is determined to claim his mate and prove that their passion is even hotter than before. He wants her and her explanation behind their separation. Except, some secrets won't stay buried in the past. Brock will fight his demons to follow her lead, but Cynthia's reluctance to explain their lost love may be the one key to their destruction...






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Book Trailer – Check out this sexiness!





Dangerous Protector
© Milly Taiden, Latin Goddess Press 2014
Chapter One

Ramirez hadn’t fully stopped when Brock jumped out of the SUV, his feet hitting the ground with a thump. Immediate perspiration gathered on his upper lip. The humidity from August had brought intense heat. Though it was closing in on nighttime, the air sizzled with the high temperature from earlier.
He ran for the SWAT van. Instinct told him they’d know more than the local sheriff’s department. Radios beeped. Concern expanded in his chest. Everyone seemed to want an update on the situation. He recognized one of the FBI department heads—Martin Galvez—standing off to the side of the SWAT van.
The older man stopped mid-sentence to give him one of his degrading piercing glares. “Brock. What are you doing here?” Command oozed from his Latin accent.
Brock glanced from Galvez to the other two lower ranked agents. Took both men all of a second to move away. That allowed him and Galvez to talk.
This is our case. We found Kyler Jones through intense searching of phone records and—”
Save it,” Galvez cut him off. He turned away from Brock to study the area.
How are you going to retrieve the child? Do we know if she’s alive?” Brock tried to tamp down the surge of power dancing through his veins. It wasn’t usually difficult to do. He’d mastered his darkness. But Galvez had a tendency of pushing his anger. The older man’s attitude lit a fire in his stomach.
Galvez smirked. “We have a man who went in through the back.”
Gathered men and women avidly stared at the house. Watching. Waiting. Brock knew there were no guarantees of getting the child out alive. They all knew that. It’s what made his job that much harder.
Power swirled at his fingertips. He need only know what to do, and he could end the entire thing in a matter of seconds. “Do you need me to—”
What I need, is for you to keep yourselves out of the way,” Galvez ordered.
Anger licked at his skin, growing at the speed of a derailed train. He shot a glance at Galvez. For a split second, Galvez paled.
I’d watch how you talk to people, Galvez,” Brock said, no longer caring that his voice sounded hard. Steely. Deadly.





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Hi! I'm Milly (AKA April Angel) I love to write sexy stories. They're usually either paranormal or contemporary with a large dose of heat. My paranormal stories can be anything from wolf-shifters (my favorites) to witches, demons and anything in between. I was born the prettiest part of the Caribbean known as the Dominican Republic. Currently, I live in New York City with my hubby, the bossy kiddo and our little dog "Needy Speedy". Don't ask.
When I'm not working some really long hours at the day job, or hanging out in the awful life-sucking invention known as Facebook, messaging my bestie in the UK or shopping with my sis Julie, then I can be found watching scary movies. Buuut when I'm not doing that, I'm usually writing because the voices won't shut up.
I am addicted to shoe shopping, chocolate (but who isn't, right?) and Dunkin' Donuts coffee.
Come by and visit me! I love to meet new readers!
Website: millytaiden.com
Facebook: facebook.com/millytaidenpage

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Friday, May 16, 2014

That's a Lie By Victoria Klahr - my review

That's A Lie
Author: Victoria Klahr
Release Date: March 25, 2014
Genre: New Adult Contemporary Romance
Add It: Goodreads

 Seth is back.

When he walked back into my life, it almost felt like the pieces of my broken heart could be fixed. I thought we could go back to being best friends, but then I started to feel what I had been blocking out for years. I tried. Boy, did I try! But once I started to let him in, I wanted nothing more than to cross that line from friendship into something more…

Just when I think I can move on and let myself be happy, an ugly reminder from my past comes storming in and threatens to destroy the sliver of hope that's been growing since Seth came back.

Do I even deserve to be loved?

“I’m not asking to fix your heart. I’m not asking to mend you. I love each and every shattered piece of you. I’m asking that you let me love you. Let me love each piece of your broken heart, and I swear to you I will make up for every heartache you have ever experienced.”

I came back for Josie.

I knew I'd have to fight for her, but with the loss of her dad and the truth about what happened with her and Blake, I quickly realized that making her mine was going to be a lot harder than I first thought. The problem is, I can’t pretend like she’s just my best friend. I can’t pretend I don’t want more.

I'm willing to do anything to get her to admit she has the same passionate feelings for me, because I know once she opens up and stops lying to herself, I can show her what it really means to be loved. It's a battle of wills, but my love for her is stronger than her will to stop me.

So I fight for her. I fight because I know she deserves it.







From That's A Lie
© 2014 Victoria Klahr

“You lied to me,” he said gruffly, sitting on the barstool at my counter. His blonde hair flopped in front of his eyes, and my hands itched to push it back. To get to touch him again the way I want to would satisfy only a millimeter of the need I have, but it would relieve some of the pain. I turned around to hide my thoughts.

“Ugh… I need coffee,” I said vacantly, reaching for my coffee maker. I didn’t even hear Seth move, but his hand grabbed mine and he turned me around, placing his hands beside me on the countertop to trap me. My breath caught, and I was almost positive he could hear my heart pounding in my chest.

His blue green eyes were angry, but I didn’t even care about him being mad. All that mattered was the charge that thumped between us. I was very aware of him.

“You lied, Josie. You’re not supposed to lie to me.”

“Seth… come on,” I said, turning my face away, unable to look at the raw emotion in his expression. His hand dashed out and grabbed my chin.

“How long, Josie?” he asked. I closed my eyes, not wanting to admit anything. “Open your damn eyes, Jos. Stop fucking hiding.” His voice was hard, but it was also full of desperation. I opened my eyes and narrowed them at him.

He doesn’t understand that I need to keep him away from me. My life is tainted by darkness, and he doesn’t need that. “It doesn’t matter, Seth. I’m fine.”

“Like fucking hell it doesn’t matter. I haven’t heard you scream like that since after everything that happened.”

He was referring to when I would have nightmares after I was raped. He or one of my dads would come lay with me to help me fall asleep. Every day that Seth wasn’t in school, he was there with me, trying to make the nightmares go away.

“Since the engagement party,” I whispered, looking down. I don’t know why I admitted it, but I think there was a part of me that realized I couldn’t hold onto all this pain anymore.

That’s when my resolve started to break. How long can I go on fighting the feelings that I have for Seth? How long can I act like nothing hurts me?

“Fuck, Jos…,” he whispered back, placing his forehead against mine. I was able to smell the mixture of hay and apple pie on his skin, and I almost lost my footing from wanting him so badly. “You should have told me.”

“I didn’t want you to worry,” I admitted.

“I worry about you every second you’re not with me, Pussy Cat. Every second that you hide behind that wall you’ve built, I wonder when you’re going to crack.” His hand reached up to caress my face, and I started to lean into his touch. It was only a minute movement, but I still heard Seth’s breath hitch. My lapse in self-control made him bold. He brought his mouth to the side of mine, and kissed me. I couldn’t stop the whimper before it escaped my mouth.

“There you are,” he whispered hoarsely against my lips. I wanted to bask in the moment, but I had already opened up to him too much. I pushed through the barricade he had made, and ran back to my room.


Where to Buy
That's A Promise (Promises Promises #1)
Amazon US | Amazon AU | Amazon UK

That's A Lie (Promises Promises #2)
Amazon US | Amazon AU | Amazon UK








This not a paranormal romance, but I won’t hold that against the author. :) 
This was the second book in this series and in my opinion, it was so much better than the first one. The first one had a lot of jumping back and forth between the past and present as the reader re-lives some of the horrible things Josie has gone through in her life. I personally don’t care for the time jumping, but the story was still a really good one. It was very real and the anguish and fear and all the feelings Josie felt were so raw and real.
I enjoyed this book so much better not only for the fact that it stayed in the present, but because the emotions were even more vivid and the author has you right there, feeling everything Josie feels from start to finish. I love Josie. She’s had it rough, but she won’t let it keep her down. She can be a bit of a bitch, but that just makes her more real. And then there’s Seth. I love Seth. He’s sexy as hell and I’d give my right ovary to live in this book and be Josie!! *fans myself* Together they are scorching hot!
I am a sucker for a good love story. And Josie and Seth have a freakin amazing love story!
You’ll have to read for yourself to get all the steamy details (and believe me, you want to read ALL the steamy details!!), but you will love this series and especially this book. I give it 5 stars!


Giveaway
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Victoria Klahr (pronounced like “Claire”) lives in Elizabeth City, North Carolina with her husband and daughter, Stephen and Alexis. She loves her chug (Pug/Chihuahua), Bandit, and three year old to pieces. She loves to stay home and take care of them, even if they do drive her insane at times. She is a huge and proud book nerd who looks at her bookshelf in admiration daily. She has her Associate’s degree in Business Administration, but her passion has always been the stories that talk to her in her head. One day she decided to take a chance and let the voices write her story. She has never felt more certain or comfortable about who she is than when she writes.





Tuesday, May 6, 2014

Infinite Potential by Barbara Garren


Book: Infinite Potential
Author: Barbara Garren
Genre: Paranormal Romance
Kelsi always knows when bad things are coming, but even she never thought she’d lose her husband at only twenty-three. Since he died, she’s been living her worst nightmare.  Her nights are filled with dreams of a Dark Haired Man, but her days are full of guilt, because the Man fills her with longing and confusion, promising to give her all she needs, all she wants, all she feared she’d never have again. If only the dreams would stay in her head where they belong. Kelsi starts seeing the Dark Haired Man in her waking life, shadowing her wherever she goes. And when her mysterious new neighbor, Aiden Hardt, knows about the Man in her dreams, Kelsi worries she can’t trust her own mind. "He’s not what he seems." But even Aiden’s cryptic words don’t frighten her as much as the way she feels around him. Kelsi must sort through her emotions and figure out what’s real before she can ever hope to have a normal life again.
I'm a writer, a reader and a frequenter of the more charming sites in town, namely pubs.
Born and raised in Southern California, I left to explore the world courtesy of the U.S. Navy. I've lived in San Francisco, New York and Norfolk, Virginia, but prefer to call San Diego home these days, with my husband, Henry (the inspiration for all the romance).
When not working on my next novel or reading a good book, I can be found running after my grandchildren, my dog and my sanity.
I believe a well-rounded diet consists of coffee, scotch, chocolate, popcorn and Luna Bars - in that order - and have been accused of violating grammar and etiquette rules in at least seven countries. My Muse is a Valkyrie named Prue, so look out.
Learn more about Barbara!
Writing as art, and how I learned to embrace my artistry.
First, let me say that I come from an extremely talented family. There are any number of gifted and recognized painters and sculptors lurking in the limbs of my family tree. My grandfather is a well-known painter, my uncle, mother, brother. Me? I can’t draw a box to climb out of!  So, with this in mind it’s easy to understand how I grew up thinking I had zero creative talent.
And yet – I’ve crafted stories as long as I can remember. As a young girl I would write plays and act them out with my friends, as a (typical) teenager, I filled stacks of notebooks with poems and short stories. As a young adult, I gifted (LOL) family members with stories I’d written. Lying in bed on any given night, unable to sleep, I would spin fantasies and makeup tales to help me sleep.  I still do.
It wasn’t until recently (that being a relative term) that I began to seriously consider the craft I practiced as a creative, artistic outlet.  My husband had been nagging me (really – no nice way to put it) to write a book and I finally took him up on it. I wrote my first book over a couple of months; did some basic editing and sent it around to friends, family and relatives.
They loved it. They praised it. They commented on my artistry and creativity. I sat there with my mouth open, dumb-founded. Me, creative? Artistic? Really?  As much as I’ve loved the written/spoken word, as much as I’ve appreciated the craft and talent of other writers, I couldn’t see the same attributes in my own work. I couldn’t connect my own ability to develop a pleasing piece of prose with that of Steinbeck, Faulkner or Whitman. I could not think of myself as an artist.
But I was. I am. I will always be.
The first book hasn’t gone anywhere. It needs a woeful amount of revising before it’s ready for public consumption, but it taught me so much! I’ve learned I have a unique voice and I need to not only trust in it, but to give it free rein. I’ve learned I have stories to tell that people want to hear, and I should follow my gut when deciding what to write. And it taught me to polish, polish, polish until it shines so bright you need sunglasses to read it, then set it adrift in the universe of publishing.
Because art is meant to be seen, whether on the wall, on film or on the written page.
What’s your writing process?
Hmmm – there really is no process. I’ve often referred to my writing style as “verbal vomit,” (sorry for the gross analogy)! When the story hits and takes hold, there’s almost nothing I can do to stop it. I have to capture all the words as the spill out. I’ve learned the hard way to capture the story when it hits – and have been known to jump out of bed in the middle of the night and jot down those flashes of insight – or risk losing the thought.
When and where do you write?
Hah! Good question. I have an office at home and I usually climb into it after work each night and most of the weekends. I refer to it as “the cave,” though it’s quite nice and sunny. Finding time is hard. I have a (more than) full time job, try to hit the gym 4 or 5 days a week and am clinging desperately to what social life I had! Family always comes first, of course, but I will admit there are times I resent not curling up with my characters. My poor husband caters to my idiosyncrasies and never complains when I neglect him – though he has a right to!
Speaking of your husband, you’ve said he’s the inspiration for all your heroes. How and Why?
Well, besides the fact that they are all tall, dark haired and incredibly handsome – all of my heroes are strong, gentle and affectionate. They don’t super-impose their needs and wants on the main characters – instead they support and encourage the independence of the women they love. That’s my husband – and that inspires me. I don’t think it would have been possible for me to accomplish all that I have – personally, professionally and as an author – if it were not for him. I’m one lucky gal!
Where do you get your stories and characters?
Oh, geeze – stories and characters are all around us! Sometimes it’s something that’s happening right in front of me, sometimes it’s just an interesting person or conversation. I try and take ordinary events and people and place them in unusual circumstance, which means I spend a lot of time asking myself “what if?” and then following where it leads. I’m frequently surprised where the story does go, being a complete Pantster!
Even as a Pantster, you must have some idea where a story is going in order to write a complete trilogy. How do you do it?
I do have the story ARC laid out in my head and I’ll usually scribble some general notes for specific scenes I want to include, but those are very rough and often won’t make it into the final version. I like to let my characters drive the story, and I like to put them in predicaments they have to find their own way out of. Book 2 of the Phasms trilogy (coming Fall, 2014) was the perfect example of what happens when your characters come to life: Kelsi and Bryn ended up hijacking everything I thought was going to happen. The last scene in book 2 remains the same as I’d originally envisioned it, but everything between the beginning and ending was a complete surprise.

Barbara is attending the Romantic Times Convention in New Orleans May 13 – 18 and would love to see anyone there!
Twitter: @bak229
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