It’s Summer. That’s a good excuse. Who wants to be in a stuffy office when you could be outside, on the beach, admiring all those sexy, tanned, athletic, near-naked men….Wait a minute. There’s a story in there somewhere!

Okay, then we’ll try another one. There’s a “Dark Shadows” Marathon on TV. Sure, I can tape it, but it’s not as fun as watching it firsthand. Writing can wait. Ben Cross as Barnabas Collins deserves my complete attention. Sexy, intriguing, charismatic vampire. Wait. Another story idea, there, too!

On to another Excuse! Reading. Yeah, that sounds legit enough for not writing. That bestseller on your TBR list is just calling for a long, relaxing read. Why not indulge? Don’t even think of turning on the computer. Wait. They call this a BestSeller? I could do better than that! An idea sneaks in….

My “Excuse List” is getting smaller. AHA! My Muse ran off with my best friend, author Mary Corrales’s Muse and theyre both now laughing their heads off because we have a Newsletter to work on and no creative ideas to go with it. Muses are so fickle. But, theyre my favorite excuse. When mine is missing I can’t write. That’s my story and I’m sticking to it! Still….there’s a story in that, too. Hmmm.

Okay, YOUR turn! What’s your favorite excuse for not doing something you should?

Please be sure and stop by site: www.authorkari.com and check out my latest Releases. Ask me for FREE pages from any of my books! If you’d like a copy of the latest newsletter “Sweet and Spicy Times”, send me an email too.

HAPPY READING HUGS!
Kari

Here is the teaser blurb: Putting her divorce in her rearview and her kids in the minivan, Maddie Pearce heads home to Salem, Mass., in search of a new life. That new life is not supposed to include finding a portal to the past hidden in the closet of her aunt’s house—a past that has magic, sorcerers and a possible way to heal her special needs son. And she certainly isn’t expecting the brooding, handsome lord whose bedroom lies on the other side of the portal and who seems determined to keep her in her own world.

The last thing Morgan of Pencastle wants to see is another witch oblivious to her powers stepping through the portal wall. Then the beautiful, sexy Maddie steps into his world. And keeps coming back.

Maddie needs Morgan’s help, and together they try to build a bridge between the worlds. If only fate isn’t so determined to keep them worlds apart…

An Excerpt From: WORLDS APART
Copyright © PATRICIA OTTO, 2012
All Rights Reserved, Ellora’s Cave Publishing, Inc.

Maddie looked at her watch. Ten a.m. Jeremy was with Linda and the girls wouldn’t be home for five more hours. Maddie had planned so that there would be plenty of time.

Opening the closet, she walked through the doorway. No one was in the room. It was quiet, except Maddie could have sworn her own heartbeat was bouncing off the walls. Maddie swallowed and forced herself to take long, slow breaths.

Do not faint, keep your head. She walked to the stairs, her legs getting surer with every step.

She stopped cold at the bottom of the staircase. The hallway was huge with dark wainscoting and pictures with ornate gold frames above the chair rail. Another broader staircase swept down in a graceful curve to a large stone foyer below.

Maddie made her way down the hall and was about to descend the steps when she thought better of the idea.

If she was away from the portal and Mr. Chiseled Chest came around, he might keep her from getting back. And she needed to be back by the time the girls came home from school.

Perhaps the best way to handle this was to avoid Mr. Chiseled Chest and talk to Cheever. He seemed much more rational. All she had to do was figure out the best way to make that happen.

As luck would have it, Cheever walked into the foyer.

Maddie’s first thought was to rush back into the portal. Instead she forced herself to stay put and cleared her throat.

Cheever looked up then flew up the steps as if his feet were on fire. “You are trespassing.”

“Uh.” She took a few steps backward toward the staircase and the portal.

Cheever stopped in front of her. “I have been instructed to insist that you return to your own world.”

Maddie held up her hands. “Please, let me explain.”

Cheever puffed up his chest. “Your time is limited.”

“I’m from the other side of the wall.”

Cheever blinked. “I am aware.”

“I am looking for someone. Can you help me?”

“Whom do you seek?”

“A man named Draegon.”

Cheever stood motionless for a few seconds. “I believe you must speak with Sir Morgan.”

“Is that the other guy?”

“Yes, madam.”

“Perhaps that isn’t a good idea. He gets very upset whenever he sees me.”

“Cheever!” Mr. Chiseled Chest strode into the house, slamming the door behind him. “I need a drink and I need it n—” He looked up at them. “What the hell?” He sprinted up the steps. “What is she doing here?”

Maddie willed her feet to stay put. “It’s only ten a.m.”

The man marched down the hallway, his anger reaching them before he did. “I beg your pardon?”

“It–it’s only ten o’clock in the morning. It’s a little early for cocktails.” Maddie locked her knees and swallowed the rising contents of her stomach.

“Cheever, what is she doing here?”

“I was just ascertaining that, sir.”

“You were instructed to send her back. Why didn’t you send her back? Did you tell her she’s not welcome here?”

“I’m standing right here,” Maddie said. “You can talk to me.”

He turned his flint glare on her. “I thought I told you that you are not welcome.”

“And believe me, I heard you loud and clear.”

“So what the hell are you doing here?” He pointed up the staircase. “Go back the way you came and stay there.”

“I can’t.”

“What do you mean you can’t?”

“Sir?” Cheever said.

The man grabbed Maddie’s wrist and pushed past Cheever, drawing Maddie with him up the steps. “Let me show you. You’ve been jumping back and forth through that portal for weeks. Surely it’s just a simple matter of walking through the dammed thing again.”

Halfway to the portal wall, Maddie planted her feet. “Stop! I’m not going back. I have to talk to you. Stop it.” She pushed against his chest. “I have to ask you something. Please stop.” She yanked her arm free. “If you send me through I’ll just come back. I swear it! Now let me talk.”

The man released a harsh breath then took a half step back from her. “I’ll give you five minutes.”

Maddie took a few cleansing breaths. Cheever looked from the man to Maddie then announced he was going to bring tea before leaving the room.

Maddie stood toe to toe with Mr. Chiseled Chest. Her stomach knotted and her mind reeled with questions but maternal determination gave her her voice. “My…name is Maddie Pearce.” She held out her hand. “It’s nice to meet you.”

He looked down at her hand as if stunned by the formal nature of the conversation then slowly took her hand. When he didn’t introduce himself Maddie cleared her throat. “And you are…?”

“The person whose room you keep invading.”

She took back her hand. “Your name? Or should I just call you ‘hey you’?”

He was quiet a moment. “Morgan.”

She nodded. “Morgan, it’s nice to meet you. Is this place called Salem too?”

“Yes.” He paused. “Do you know where here is?”

Maddie swallowed hard. “The other side of my broom closet?”

He looked at her for a moment as if unsure of what to say next. “Your broom closet and my bedroom share a portal between worlds. Two very different worlds, though it seems they share a name.”

She eased her muscles a tiny bit and crossed her arms. “Look, there is not a lot I understand about this and I wouldn’t even be here unless it was important.”

Cheever came up the steps carrying a silver tray. “I have tea and cakes, sir.” He put the tray down on a table. “I was going to serve it in the dining room. However, I believe the lady would not want to be that far from her means of egress.”

“You got that right,” Maddie said.

“Would you like me to pour?” Cheever asked.

“No, but you can bring me a bottle of whiskey.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Do you always drink in the middle of the morning?”

“What are you talking about, it’s almost noon.”

She looked at her watch. “It’s not even eleven.”

He glared. “What’s your point?”

“What year is it?”

“It’s 1826.” He frowned. “Why? What is it on the other side of the wall?”

“A little later than that.”

He stepped toward her. “How much later?”

Maddie hesitated. “About a hundred and eighty years.”

He rubbed his forehead. “That’s impossible. It doesn’t make any sense.”

Yeah,” she scoffed, “let’s introduce logic into this conversation.” Maddie shook her head. “It doesn’t matter anyhow. I’m not here to debate the calendar with you.”

“Which brings us to the point, what are you here for?”

“I’m looking for someone.”

Cheever returned with a full crystal carafe and two glasses. “Your whiskey, sir.”

“Just in time,” Morgan said, grabbing a glass and holding it out for Cheever to fill. Cheever complied, filling the glass halfway before putting the carafe next to the teapot on the tray and leaving the room.

Maddie watched Morgan drain the glass then fill it again. “Who are you looking for?”

“A man named Draegon.”

He stopped mid-sip to give her a withering look. “Where did you get that name?”

Maddie swallowed the sudden attack of nausea clamping her throat. “My Aunt Lulu.”

Morgan’s look went from withering to contemptuous. “You are related to Lulu?” Anger was clear in his voice.

Maddie was certain that he was about to shove her back through the portal. “You know her?”

“Yes.” To her surprise, his angry expression eased a fraction as he gestured his glass toward the fireplace. “Sit down.”

Maddie stayed put. “Not until you promise to let me go back through to my own Salem anytime I want.”

Morgan chuckled. “Madam, after I’ve heard what you have to say—” His voice dropped an octave. “And after you’ve answered my questions, I don’t give a damn what you do.”

Maddie tried to raise enough spit to swallow. “Fair enough.”

He took a step closer. “Now have a seat.”

She scowled. “You really enjoy barking orders, are you a general or something?”

“Or something.” He gestured toward the chair. “You’re changing the subject, Miss Pearce.”

“It’s Mrs. Pearce, but please call me Maddie.” She took a deep breath then sat down in the wingback chair, lacing and unlacing her fingers. She was about to tie together what Aunt Lulu had told her of this world and her own. It crossed her mind that if they had the equivalent of a Restful Acres on this side of the wall, she might end up the Aunt Lulu of this Salem.

“I want your word that I can return to my own side whenever I want.”

“Madam, I don’t know what your world is like, but here a man does not have to repeat a pledge.”

“I need to find this Draegon.” She noticed that Morgan’s already tense jaw tightened up just a little bit more. “Do you know him?”

Morgan took a drink. “In a manner of speaking.” He drained his glass and stood. “I’m his nephew.”

Maddie shot to her feet. She felt the immediate dizziness of the blood leaving her head and the air leaving her lungs. “You’re Draegon’s nephew?” she whispered.

His gaze widened. “Hey, you need to sit down again. You just turned white as a sheet.” He pressed her down into the chair. “Sit.”

Maddie let her knees buckle. “Uh, c–can I have some tea?”

Morgan poured tea into one of the cups. He set the cup on a saucer then held it out to her. She took the saucer, her shaking hands making the teacup rattle. Maddie took a cautious sip, her mind swimming. This is the person who used to be like Jeremy?

“Madam, are you all right?”

“Wh–what?”

“You still look as if you’re going to faint.”

“Are you Draegon’s only nephew?”

He stared at her a moment. “Yes.”

“O–oh my.”

Irises and Roses by my back fence

But the change of seasons is still fairly fresh and new. The greens of the leaves and the lawn are still bright and glowing, having not yet acquired the dusty, tired look of later in the summer.  The spring flowers, the roses and irises are in full cry.

Something about spring always energizes me.  The beauty of the trees and grass and flowers has something to do with it, but that’s not all of it.

The longer days, more sunshine, and being able to take long walks outside all help.  Blooming flowers all around soothe my spirit. The outdoors activities are invigorating.  Working in the garden, digging in the dirt, planting seeds form a sort of primal connection for me with the earth and the cosmos.  I feel bigger, expanded somehow, when I’m planting and cultivating things.

There’s something about being in the midst of the profuse evidence of life reviving that inspires my own writing, too.  My spirit expands, reaches farther, searches more deeply for what is beneath the surface. My soul tries to shape a story as beautiful and uplifting as the gorgeous flowers themselves.

Of course, I’ll never be able to do it.  That’s one of the reasons I love writing. There are no limits and no completions other than the end of a story that’s never really ended.  I can never say I’ve conquered the art of storytelling. I’ll never be able to say that. Even if I should become a bestseller someday or win a major award.

I’ll always know there’s something more I can do. Something new to try. Some way to make my stories deeper, truer, more beautiful.

Ahh, but today’s witches are all that, and MORE. Gone are the stereotype of ugly, wart-faced, sex-crazed (OKAY, so maybe THAT hasn’t changed too much!) evil-doers who have nothing more to do than make sure you know every nuance of the words SORCERER: Broom flying, spell casting, cursing, just pure ugliness witchery.

But wait! Enter the White Witch, and you have an entirely different persona. She worships Mother Earth. She’s benevolent, caring, full of sugar-and-spice-and-everything-nice.

Sugar and Spice? Yep. If you plan on using a Witch as your Heroine in your story, plain old sugar just aint gonna be very fun. She may be “all for the good of mankind” but your witch heroine isn’t going to catch that hero’s eyes if she doesn’t have that spice. She’ll have to straddle the thin line between being a “good” witch and a “bad” witch. (Can you just hear Dorothy from Wizard of OZ: “But, I’m not a witch at all!”) She’ll have to keep that hero guessing if she’s going to willingly become his love slave —or turn him into a warted frog the first time he aggravates her!

Several of my books have Witches as the heroines. In “SEDUCING THE HERO” Baylie is a Kitchen Witch. But she turns into an absolute klutz of backfiring spells when she temporarily loses her powers. Hero Colt can’t decide if he should accept the sexy chaos that IS Briana, or run as fast as he can from any of her wayward spells!

In “SPELL-KISSED”, hero Hunter doesn’t believe in Witches to begin with. When he arrests his mother’s sexy house boarder as the thief that has been breaking into places all over town and stealing —the oddest— things, the last thing he wants to hear is that she needs the items for a special spell to save the world! Briana doesn’t have time to convince Hunter that she’s a witch on a mission. She’ll just have to prove it with a spell example. Only one problem: Briana has a glitch most witches don’t. Her spells are tied in with her emotions. If she’s emotional —in any way –while spell-casting then it’s a definite that she’ll end up with a spell gone wrong. Crazily wrong. And what emotion affects her more than the others? Desire, of course! And Hunter is “sexy male personified”. What’s a witch to do? It’s a matter of life or death for everyone, so she does what she has to. She spell-casts…and accidentally send them into a parallel world! Hunter is definitely having second thoughts about witches right about now…

In my Short Story sequel to “Spell-Kissed”, the heroine is a witch from that parallel world. Kassidy, from “SLOAN’S WITCH” doesn’t have to convince hero Sloan that she’s a good witch. She just has to convince him that the “evil Sorceress” in her doesn’t show up too much either!

So, Witches. Good. Bad. Cute. Sexy. Ugly. Sweet. Evil. The great thing about them is that today’s Readers love them all. As a writer, you can create any scenario, add a little witchery, and you’ve got a Heroine the Hero just can’t resist. Love spell or not…!

Read any Romances with Witches you’ve hated? Or absolutely loved? Tell me about them. (NO bashing, please, on the author).

If you’d like to have FREE pages from any of my books with Witches (or any of the others!), please feel free to holler my way!

Blessed Be and Happy Reading Hugs,
Kari
www.authorkari.com

I just got back from a glorious week on the Florida seacoast. Beautiful is not sufficient to describe the place where the Atlantic ocean meets the shoreline. White sand, teal seas, waves that make a sound like the sigh of angels (no fooling), hot orange sun, blue sky, it is breathtaking. It is everything you can imagine when you think ocean paradise. And more.

I go there and immerse myself like a teabag.

Here are a few things I learned while on vaca.

If you have a book coming out, you will receive your edits while you are packing.  BUT your editor will be very understanding if it takes you a few extra days to get them back to her/him.

The sun pops out of the ocean rather quickly.

Manatees are so ugly they are cute. Alligators are not cute. Dolphins are always cute.

When a restaurant doesn’t have Rock shrimp, Georgia Whites are a damned good substitute.

Magazine ink comes off on your skin when you prop it on your sun-screened legs.

2 for 1 marguerites are goooooood.

It is possible to strap your adult children to a parasail and fly them like kites.

If you don’t tell the waitress you want unsweet ice tea, guess what? Sweet tea!

Hot tubs under a starry sky are awesome!

Walking on the beach for exercise seems so much easier than a lap around your ‘hood.

I don’t know if I would have the same level of appreciation for this scenery if I lived here all the time…but I’d be willing to give it a try.

Vacations are too short. If your vacation is too short, you know you had a great time.

See you next month when my latest book is supposed to come out, Worlds Apart published by Blush!

Let me tell you a true story.

Some fifteen years ago, my family and I went to a concert in a city about fifty miles away. It was a great concert and we all had a good time. We noticed on the drive back that there were increasingly large puddles on the ground as we neared home, but didn’t think much more about it. It was late and we were all exhausted, so we went directly to bed.

My youngest daughter, who has always been an early riser, was the first one up the next morning. Her favorite thing to do at that time was to listen to the radio or a CD on the stereo (with earphones) and rock in the rocking chair. She was dismayed when she turned on the stereo and found it didn’t work.

Instead she tried to turn on the television, but it wasn’t working either.  Since the lights were on, she knew the electricity was functioning, but apparently not much else was. As a last resort, she decided to turn on the computer and play games. You guessed it. Computer wasn’t working either.

At that point she was still the only person awake, so she grabbed a book and tried to read, but she was understandably pretty distraught.

Once the rest of us got up, we went through the house, checking everything to see what worked and what didn’t.  We didn’t know until later, when we talked to neighbors, that there had been a very bad thunderstorm the night before.

There’s no way to know for sure, of course, but we have to assume that lightning hit either our house or one of the power lines very near it. The final tally of destruction: stereo receiver, VCR, television, and computer. We were fortunate that the television and computer were both older and about due for replacement anyway.

We learned our lesson. Now when there’s a thunderstorm approaching, we unplug everything, not just from the electrical lines, but from the cable as well. If we’re going out of town for a day, we check the weather forecast. If we’re leaving for longer, we unplug everything just for safety.

Yes, it’s a bit inconvenient, but it would be more than just inconvenient to replace our electronic equipment these days. And since I’m an author and web designer, the loss of a computer would be more than just inconvenient. It wouldn’t kill my business because I back up relentlessly, including using an automatic, offline back up service in Carbonite. But I would likely lose several days of work time, replacing hardware and restoring software and data.

I’d rather lose an hour of work time than risk losing days’ worth.

I unplug when the weather turns nasty. Unless you live in a place that isn’t prone to thunderstorms, I strongly suggest you do so as well.

She is total destruction when she gets in her hyper mode. My normally “spotless” home has been turned upside down. What can be destroyed, has been. The only time she slows down is when she suddenly collapses for a short nap. She rules this house. And me. Every time she does something naughty I find myself trying hard not to smile/laugh at her “I’m so innocent and so cute, dont yell at me” face. The little beast has no idea what discipline means.

It got me to thinking. Is this what it would be like living with little shapeshifter children? Are they perfectly adorable and sweet one minute, and then shapeshift into little terrors the next? Do their parents have a hard time disciplining them? I mean, how could you scold an adorable little kitten/tiger/lion/etc or puppy/wolf/etc when they are just being their cute little shapeshifting selves? HOW would you discipline a shapeshifter child? Can you just imagine the scene:

Little Evy climbs on mommy’s antique coffee table and shoves her expensive lotus-shaped lead crystal vase off. It shatters. Before mommy can yell, little Evy quickly shifts into her puppy self and pulls the “I’m a sweet innocent little puppy. Please dont scold.” trick. Works every time. Mommy melts. Evy runs away, knowing she’s gotten away with it again…

Darn it. I loved that vase.

But, I digress. I’m realizing that I feel sorry for shapeshifter parents. Children are hard enough to raise without having the added built-in terror of being able to shift and get away with just about everything.

I’m wondering too, how long it will be before authors start including shifter children in their books. Will the Reader like to read about the little terrors? What do you think? Shifter children in the paranormal romance genre? Or should we just stick to writing what we know? Because —-GRIN—if you’re anything like me, you soon discover that children (in pet form or human) keep you learning something new about them every day!

Lets hear your opinion about shifter children.

Happy Reading HUGS,
Kari

YaY!

I’m feeling good from my head to my shoes. It’s been a while. Too long. My last book was published in July 09, so yeah, it’s been hundreds of days, thousands of hours, million…you get the picture. I wish I could say it has been easy living through this “dry spell” but it really hasn’t.

Let’s face it, writers have varying degrees of insecurity and even at various times. All the stories you hear about editors and agents holding the angsty writer’s hand, writers tearfully calling editor/agent wailing, “I can’t do it,” bestselling authors telling us during workshops about that moment when panic sets in every-single-time. As a whole, we writers are quite the Jello-y bunch. Probably because we care so deeply about what we write, the whole opening a vein thing. We care about our fans and want to keep them fed, keep them entertained. But I suspect that a fair amount of our insecurity comes from that occupational hazard known as rejection. Yes, I know, it’s a job, it’s a business, we should not take rejection and setbacks personally…wwwweeellll that’s easier said than done.

Good writing is personal, it’s introspective, it’s reaching out of our comfort zones. So when we get rejections, it rocks our foundations.

Wish I could say I was proficient, able to pigeonhole my emotions, but I’m not…I’m jello. When I get the old “thanks but no thanks” it makes me want to cry.

But I’ve learned a few things over this dry spell. In no particular order, here are my lessons learned.

#1 I cannot stay in that dark place but I definitely wallow in it for bit. It’s okay to have a lil meltdown with that rejection. Cry, throw things, scream into that pillow. Our culture has a scornful response to extreme emotions, especially negative ones. We’re supposed to control ourselves. I say the hell with that! As long as no one is hurt or property damaged, I let it all hang out. It keeps me from being eaten up by all the dark feelings. I think of it as a cleansing.

#2 It’s okay to have doubts I just don’t let it keep me from moving forward. There is no job, career, or calling where a person never has doubts. It’s human nature. Doubt happens. And as much as we like to think we authors are something special, we ain’t all that. So we might as well do what everyone else does and muddle through.

#3 I am my own cheerleading squad. I am very fortunate to have a great encouraging family and an awesome network of writing friends. I feel for any writer who doesn’t. They are the best, they are my well of cool sweet water. When I feel down, I list all of my accomplishments on paper and recite them to myself every day. I celebrate the small successes with pampering, maybe I give myself a facial, I get a new haircut, chocolate is always a great mini-celebration. Oh and shopping. Celebrate with retail therapy.

#4 Time is relative. I know it sounds scientific but it’s true. Blah to publish or perish. Blah to “you have to put out three books a year,” blah to you’re a has-been, blah to writing every day, 10,000 words a day etc. Your process is yours. Repeat—yours. I love writing but I couldn’t do it 7 days a week, 52 weeks a year. Some can. I write at my own pace and put the computer away without guilt.

#5 Persevere. Don’t stop writing. Yes, I take breaks, I take vacations but I don’t stop. Every workshop I’ve ever attended the author/teachers have one thing that they all say. Don’t stop writing, sending in those queries, partials, fulls. It will happen if you keep at it.

I give you details of my next release–WORLDS APART–as I get them.

For anyone who might be interested — I’m participating in Smashwords’ Read an ebook week, with several of my books.

My vampire novella, A VAMPIRE’S CHRISTMAS CAROL, is free until this Saturday, March 10.
https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/109662

My romantic paranormal suspense novel, MAGIC, MURDER AND MICROCIRCUITS, is also free until March 10.
https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/100257

My award-winning romantic suspense novel, A QUESTION OF FIRE, is 75% off until March 10.
https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/43245

Look in the box in the upper right-hand corner of the page for the code to claim these deals.

Hurry, time is limited!

Karen McCullough

http://www.kmccullough.com

But, is having a Newsletter one step too many? What do you, as a Reader, think? Do you like receiving the latest news from your favorite authors, in a format that comes through an email list?

One on hand, Newsletters can let you know in advance the latest news. Subscribers get the first chance at Contests, over other Readers who don’t receive the newsletter. Readers get the chance to become more personable with their favorite authors through the newsletter.

On the other hand, receiving a lot of newsletters can also fill up your email box quickly. And where do you find the time to read them all?

And, the BIG Question is… what would you prefer to see (OR not see?) in those Newsletters? An author friend, Mary Corrales, and I are starting a Newsletter for the beginning of March. We want it to have alot of Reader “participation”, so we’re including Recipes, Book Reviews on other Author’s books, Contests, and even a “Question and Answer” section we hope Readers will join in. It’s a start. We’re planning on including excerpts from our books, and even one-liner teasers from other author’s books (with their permission, of course). And we’re open to suggestions for what else Readers would like to see.

Let me know what you think about Newsletters. Leave a comment, your email address, and be entered to win TWO FREE Short Stories.

Indicate if you would like to Join the mailing list for our Newsletter “Sweet and Spicy Times”.

Visit my site: http://www.authorkari.com/

See Mary’s site: http://www.authormaryc.com/

HAPPY READING HUGS! Kari