Tuesday, 4 April 2017

Tango, and single mums...yes there is a link!

So today, the 4th April 2017 (awesome date, don't you think), the second of my full length novels, Taming the Tango Champion hits the digital book shelves.

And I'm really excited about it.

I have been wondering what to blog about in honour of its birth into the publishing world, and I thought that in order to do it justice, it should be something, yanno, big. Dare I say it, personal. And I never Get Personal.

But today, I do.

In honour of Ava, and Mathias, and heck, all single mums everywhere.

It ties in with my favourite scene, the risotto scene (no, it's not salacious--I tend to leave food out of my sex scenes ;) ).

Ava is a single mum, and this scene follows one of the two park scenes where her daughter meets her dad for the first time, unaware he is her dad. For the first time since discovering she's pregnant, Ava is with the only person in the world jointly responsible for her child.

Taming the Tango Champion was written at a time when I discovered myself to be a single mum. Writing it was very cathartic, although it's only now in hindsight I realise that--and even more, realise that a lot of my emotions were channelled through Ava. I remember looking at my three-month old on the floor, with her two-year old sister in the garden and this great big chasm opening right in front of me. A chasm of oh-my-god how on earth can I do this. Scrabbling back from that chasm in fear of falling in, doing my best to fill it in so I could pretend it wasn't there anymore.

Didn't work. Ta-daa, a single mum was born.

And so I got on with it as from that day forward, the great boulder that that chasm calved? It settled squarely on my shoulders. Only my shoulders.

That park scene, with Ava, Mathias and Bella? That was me, on a rare day when my ex-husband spent it with us. We were in the park, my eldest ran off whilst my youngest was feeding and my ex went after her. I remember thinking 'this is what happens when there are two of you involved, it's so much easier'. For that afternoon, that boulder broke. But then when it re-assembled? Bigger and heavier than ever, for now I knew what nuclear families had.

It's really tough being a single Mum, needing to make decisions on your own for the best of your little family, trying to hold it together when things go pear shaped but you don't want your children to notice and so the brave face goes on, the excuses for wet eyes get trotted out (oh, I have an eye infection; the wind is too cold against my eyes; I read a sad scene in a book) hoping that your ever-more-perceptive children don't notice the wobble in your voice because you know if they hug you or kiss you, you'll just melt into a puddle of upset.

Tango is close to my heart for that single reason. I got on with my life and didn't let these realisations knock me back because I was lucky and could put them all in a book...all those hurt emotions could go somewhere, and not sit and stagnate in me. Don't get me wrong though, there's a lot of joy in the book too, a quite a lot of passion, and dancing and pretty clothes and hair and makeup and lots of deliciously girly stuff.

So for all the single mums out there, I raise my cup of coffee to you! It's a tough job, but ultimately highly rewarding. And what doesn't kill you only makes you stronger, right.

Like Ava, my life has moved on and I am no longer a single mum (don't know what you'd call me now...hmm maybe I need to write a book to figure it out ;) ) but happy ever afters do exist.

Thanks for reading...and I hope you enjoy Taming the Tango Champion <3

Buy link for Tango

Wednesday, 29 March 2017

Mugs & Monasteries Release Day

Today, the 29th March 2017, I'd like to welcome Mugs & Monasteries onto the book shelves and wish her all the very best. In her honour, I thought I'd tell you a little bit about the Burren, west coast of Ireland as it was that very place that introduced Evie (orchid hunter) and Aiden (alpaca farmer {as you do!}) to me. In fact, here's the passage in the book when Evie and Aiden are out walking...

Mugs & Monasteries

Yet whatever else, she loved the Burren, with its rocky, karst landscape that resembled in her imagination the moon. The strangest place she had ever seen, she had become inured to its wild beauty, yet being with Aiden made her see it anew.

“There must be so many stories attached to the Burren. It’s seen a lot of history.” Aiden’s eyes were dark as he glanced around. “I’ve always thought my uncle’s to be only one of many. I mean, take a look over at that Dolmen.” He stopped behind her and pointed over her shoulder to the familiar three-rock formation. “That’s the Poulnabrone Portal Tomb Stone, dates back to the Neolithic period. Apparently there are around twenty-five adults and children buried below.”

Evie gazed over at it, doing her best to imagine centuries before, and the kind of world these stones had seen and been an integral part of.

So often have I sat by that Tomb, more so when I growing up as now you cannot get near enough to it. Sitting there, you can hear the wind whistling though the stony fields, stunted trees doing their best to thrive--which they actually do, but they are nothing like thriving trees you'd see normally. The air carries on it the tang of the Atlantic Sea, that wild ocean that separates Ireland from the US and often my fancy would lead me to seeing folk standing on the Cliffs of Moher (the pic on the front of the book) staring out across the water as their family sailed away to a new life in the new country far far away, knowing they would never see them again. I think the Burren absorbed all that wanting and waiting, took it and transformed it into a very wild beauty, a lonesome place where you could lose yourself, find yourself and lose yourself all over again. 

Perhaps Munster Abbey, the monastery (eponymous?) in Mugs & Monasteries is my metaphor for that feeling--it comes in and out of reality, almost as at will. (But you'll have to read more to find out why :) ) 

I don't want you to think the Burren is a sad place though--plants and animals do thrive, you just have to look hard to see them. But then nothing gained easily is as worth something you have to work for, hey. The days when the sun is out and chasing the clouds at a fast rate across the blue sky, shadows dancing merrily over the hills and rocks, darkness descending, quick downpours of fresh Irish rain moving quickly on, allowing the sun back to chase the clouds...those days are the days you're so glad to be alive and part of this beautiful place. 

But hey--why not go yourself and find out? Failing that--check out Mugs & Monasteries and read yourself into it. Go on--I dare you! 

Monday, 27 March 2017

Mathias insists on him being Ava's guide through the mountains...

Tango Prelude II

 “Highest mountain in the Andes, you know.” Matthias nodded to it. “Acongagua.” 
            Ava grimaced through the pain in her bruised ribs and side. “I know. I hiked its National Park last week.” 
             He looked down, solicitous to the pain in her voice.  “I think a rest will do you good. Come.” He opened the door, and Ava drank in the sight of a large, airy bedroom, graced by a wooden four-poster bed. Windows overlooked the mountains, this side of the house cool in the shadows. A breeze fluttered the light blue curtains, bringing a sweet smell of lilac with it. Lilac, she must be going mad...
            “…and here is your bathroom. Now, I’ll head down to the dorms and get your bag. Lie down and try to rest.” Matthias placed the jug on the prejut and left. 
            Ava sat on the window seat, although her eyes soon became too heavy. Not resisting the fatigue, she stripped to her underwear, wincing as she did so and clambered between the cool clean sheets. Heaven. Magnificant to be able to relax 100%, not to worry about other people coming in and disturbing, or to fret about her things and passport. And …
            She woke briefly in the gloom of the evening to see a bowl of fruit and a fresh jug of lemonade had been placed on the bedside table and her backpack leaned against the wardrobe. Slight discord jangled within her at the thought that someone had been in here whilst she slept, but sleep soon re-claimed her. 
            The next few days passed by in a haze. Ava hadn’t known quite how exhausted she had been, but one thing she realised; she was darned lucky to be getting such a fabulous rest. Food and water       were changed over between her sleeps and she soon relaxed completely. Fragments of images of a tall, dark and handsome man lingered in the consciousness but when she went to claim them, they disappeared into the ether. There were times when she woke, hovering on the cusp of sleep and waking, sure someone was in her room. But rather than be alarmed, she was soothed by the fact that someone was watching over her. Once the click of the door shutting brought her into wakefullness, and she lay there, consumed by loss for whatever had been there had gone. 
            One morning – when, she had no idea – she woke and stretched. Damn but she felt good. She sat up and padded into her marble bathroom, eyeing up the shower as she did so. Despite not having done anything in the past couple of days, she felt grubby and soon luxuriated in a long hot power shower. Heaven just kept on getting better. 
            She walked back into the bedroom, with just a towel wrapped around her when she heard a tap on the door.
            “Come in.” She called before she knew it and as the door opened to admit Matthias, her heart clutched at her chest. “Hang on.” She grabbed her backpack and backed into the bathroom to throw some clothes on. Darn, why hadn’t she got anything sexy to wear? Her habitual shorts and t-shirt would have to do. 
            She came into the bedroom to be greeted by the smell of coffee and fresh croissants. 
            “Something smells fabulous.” Her stomach growled in appreciation and she walked over to the desk, where a breakfast tray was laid out. 
            “I thought you may be ready for some food as you haven’t had anything substantial to eat for the past three days.” The low words in the Argentine accent caused warmth to swirl around her body, starting a low flush in her neck. She reached up to clutch at her opal and pressed it’s smoothness to her lips. Perhaps she could attribute her light head to the lack of food in her belly. Perhaps
            “Three days?” Have I been out of it for three whole days? 
            He nodded. “Eat.” 
            “Er, yes thank you very much.” Although she moistened her lips in anticipation of the food, she couldn’t pick it up and eat in front of him. Deciding upon a compromise, she raised the coffee jug to him, relieved when he shook his head.
            “I checked in on you as you slept. I hope you don’t mind.”
Ava put down the cup. “You? I thought it was your mother?” Panic fluttered in her throat at the thought he had seen her sleeping and dreaming. She had mistakenly thought the safe presence a maternal one, although if she’d listened to her instincts she’d have known better
Safe, certainly. Maternal? Never. 
Shivers made the hair at the nape of her neck stand. 
            Matthias said nothing but quirked an eyebrow. “Maman had business in Mendoza. You seem good.”
            “I am, thanks.” The coffee was short and strong, and sharpened her wits for her. She refilled her cup.
“So?” he looked questioningly at her.
“What were you doing in one of my training barns?” 
Nothing very well.
Instead she cleared her throat. “I wanted to get used to Red Sox before she led me across the Andes.” She risked a peek at him. He maintained a low steady stare. 
“Well I hope you’ve got some time, because judging by your ineptitude on Red Sox, who never lets her rider fall, it’s going to take quite a while to – what did you call it? – get used to her.” 
 “Time I don’t have. I have a week’s riding holiday booked, leaving tomorrow. I’ve already wasted too much time here”
Ominous silence greeted her, one eyebrow went down whilst the other remained up. How did he do that? She expelled a long breath and tried to get through to him again. “I’ve travelled around the world for eleven months now, and it’s my dream to finish off with a horse-riding holiday in the Andes. I go home in two weeks.”
More silence. 
“Look, I couldn’t rock climb before I spent a while in the Grampians in Australia, now I can climb, not brilliantly but I can do it. I intend to do the same with riding.” This riding holiday was the culmination of all her travels, a fantastic high to carry her home. She wasn’t about to give it up. 
  He straightened, planting his feet apart. Pushover, this man certainly was not. 
The clock on the wall tick-tocked the seconds away.
 “Fine. But the only way you can take off into the mountains is for me to go with you.” Something had changed in him in that pause. He had distanced himself.  
Ava put her cup on the table with a clatter. 
“You? There’s no need – Alessandro is booked to take me.” The ranch catered for riding holidays over the Andes, offering a choice of having a guide or going it alone. As Ava didn’t know the area and – okay wasn’t quite the best at riding – she had booked a guide. 
“Me. I’m the very best there is. So that’s your option. Take it or your dream of riding through the mountains will remain just that – a dream.” He brushed his hair from his forehead, and placed his hands on his hips. “What’s it to be?”
Ava tried to hide her expression from his hawk like eyes. Eyes she felt sure could see her contrary thoughts. She couldn’t do it. How would she protect herself against the masculinity that imbued the air around him with danger? On a more trivial note, what would they talk about? 
She’d make a fool of herself, he’d allow his laughter out and she’d scurry home with her tail between her legs. 
NO! She was going to do it, damnit. Opportunity of a lifetime and all that. This time next month she’d be home, sweet, safe home, with no disturbingly beautiful men around. 
She flicked her damp hair back from her face, and feathered the fringe down, just for good affect. Steeling herself to meet his deep brown gaze, she stuck a hand out.  “Deal.” 

Wednesday, 22 March 2017

Exciting times--TANGO due for release 04-04-17

Prelude to
Taming the Tango Champion

Ava Whittaker landed on the soft turf, an involuntary ‘whoosh’ escaping her lungs as her bum made contact with the ground. A cloud of dust rose, and she coughed, flapping a hand in front of her face. Red Sox, the mare she had been trying without success to ride, lowered her head and puffed a hot, smelly breath of air into Ava’s face. Pushing her away, Ava grinned at her. 
            “Okay okay I’m good…”
            Red Sox ambled to the trough in the corner, her demeanor good-natured as she left Ava awash in the sunlight streaming through the open barn door. She blew a stray blond hair back from her face. A friend she had met travelling told her if she ever got as far as Argentina, she must check out the de Romero ranch and ride one of their horses. So here she was. She had never ridden much beyond the odd hack, but she could do this. Hopefully.  
            Was she mad to want to finish off her twelve-month travelling stint by riding a horse through the Andes? 
            She dusted off her hands preparing to stand as an outline against the sun rang alarm bells. An exasperated breath at her ineptitude being witnessed escaped before she looked at the dusty brown cowboy boots blocking her line of vision. Her gaze followed denim-clad calves along muscle bound thighs clearly defined beneath the soft work-faded fabric. Stuck in her position of being half way off the ground, she had no choice but to let her gaze skitter further, over the taut stomach – clung to with much love by his tee-shirt – and up to impossibly broad shoulders. Maybe it was the angle, and being backlit by the sun, but this man looked like a Greek god. 
That would make her his worshipper.  
            He put a hand out.
For her to kiss.  
Smiling inside, she stretched up and couldn’t help flinching as his hand encircled her wrist and lifted her off the ground. His touch rendered her graceful as a dancer. Myriad feelings blazed a trail through her, and she shivered as his strong grasp brought her up close to his wide chest. The tallest girl in her class growing up, it had become rare for her to have to look up to anyone, but here she only reached his broad shoulder span. A scent of amber and spices filled her head, an intoxicating blend that spiraled into her to twist her lower stomach. 
“Why are you on your own?” A deep voice rumbled in his chest, perfect English with a sexy soft Argentine accent. 
Her throat suddenly dry, Ava stepped away, ignoring the sharp pain in her left side and left him in the sun. 
“Pardon?” She shaded her eyes to look at him, welcoming mild annoyance that rose as a cool escape from the hot feelings flustering through her body. A cloudy haze descended on her mind, and her limbs sat heavy within her. 
The brim of his cowboy hat hid his eyes. But his chiseled jaw, lightly covered in dark brown stubble, combined with high cheekbones made him look as though he had just walked off a movie set. 
            He tipped his hat back in an almost mocking gesture, and dark green eyes looked into hers, gold flecks beckoning her to gaze deeper.
            “I asked you what you were doing in here on your own.” He folded an arm across the wide girth of his chest, long slender fingers tapping his chin.
“And it’s your business, because?” Ava could match mocking for mocking any day, yet her voice sounded only faintly like hers.  
            “Matthias de Romero, at your service.” He doffed his hat and gave a slight bow. 
            De Romero, where had she heard that name before? She almost groaned aloud as the realization came to her. 
            “De Romero? This is your ranch?” 
            “It is. Now, do I have to ask you a third time?” The low timbre of his voice had her watching his mouth as he spoke, a sensuous bottom lip hiding straight white teeth. 
“Ava Whittaker.” Ava breathed her name. Great, now she sounded like a silly teenager. “I mean, that’s my name.” 
She cleared her throat, determined to find some gravitas. Pulling her bottom lip between her teeth, she glanced up through a dim haze to see him raising an eyebrow. Perhaps it was the heat of the Argentine sun, or her empty tummy which helpfully growled now, but she couldn’t seem to focus. Her hip ached from where she landed, and attempting to put weight on it nearly caused her knee to buckle.     
Great first impressions. 
            She stifled a yelp only to let it lose when he slid a strong arm around her to support her. Of its own accord, her body tucked itself under his shoulder, blood fizzing crazily in the feel of the long, lean torso pressed warm against her. Her head seemed to have floated from her body, giving it carte blanche to behave in the most outrageous of manners.  She suspected she was cultivating Dengue Fever, despite the fact a mosquito hadn’t been near her in days.
             “Let’s take you up to the ranch house, get you a nice cool drink.” Smooth and deep, his voice caressed her, all signs of impatience buried. 
            Not waiting for her reply, he steered her out of the barn to emerge blinking in the broad sunlight.
            “Alessandro?” his voice cut like a bullet through the air to a ranch hand leading two horses into the busy stables. “Red Sox needs looking after.” 
            I do too…
            She banished the thought as soon as it raised a seductive head. Taking a sabbatical from her job as breakfast news presenter to travel the world on her own had been wonderful. But it had meant being on her guard at all times. A lone girl of twenty-eight travelling had to keep her senses sharp and her passport close. Two weeks short of her flight home, she wanted to relax and a rising desire whispered to lean on this capable man for a short while. 
            “Nearly there…” 
His encouraging tone washed over her. The long low red ranch shimmered ahead in the hot midday sun, and she closed her eyes against the sudden nausea. The porch, when she reached it, provided a very welcome shelter from the blazing sun. 
            Matthias swung the kitchen door open with a flourish and gestured for her to come in. 
“Gracias, Senor de Romero.” She spoke with a quiet tone. 
“Please, call me Matthias.” The deep tone and seriously sexy way his name rolled off his tongue with the accent on the ‘th’ sent shivers down her spine. Ava nodded slowly and closed her eyes in gratitude for the cool air conditioning. 
Matthias took his hat off and called in “Maman, are you here?” 
            Inviting in a way that reminded her of her mum’s kitchen back home in England, the marble cream flagstones shot through with black veins matched the black granite work-tops. White painted wooden blinds guarded against the sunlight and helped keep the temperature at a more bearable level.
            “Si, Matthias.” A round woman, dark eyes like currants in a bun, bustled into the kitchen, her kind face changing to concern as she saw Ava’s flushed face. 
            “You poor girl. Quick, Matthias, get some water from the fridge. Sit, sit!” 
With soft hands, she grasped Ava’s arm and guided her to a chair. “Silly girl, you’ve been out in the heat for too long. Your skin is too fair to cope.” Underlying her gentle admonishing tone was worry and Ava subsided, grateful to sit down. Matthias placed a glass of water at her elbow and she gave a weak smile, wondering why she felt like such a ditz. The pain in her side sharpened and she picked up the glass, appreciating the sound of ice clinking against the sides. She took a sip, then held it to her forehead. 
            Senora de Romero turned to Matthias and a rapid fire Spanish conversation took place, with Matthias shrugging expressively at the accusatory tone of his mother. Ava caught words such as Red Sox and Alessandro, and then gave up. It was clear they were talking about her, she could only guess at what they said. 
            The water seemed to be helping and, when Senora de Romero turned from her son, Ava joined the conversation. “Sorry to cause all this fuss. I guess I’m just tired.”
            Matthias leaned against the counter, threw off his hat and braced his hands behind him. With delightful results as thick dark disheveled hair and waves of curls made Ava want to reach out and run her fingers through it.
            “Eat, eat!” His mum put a plate in front of her, piled with Empanadas - the small pastries of meat, cheese, vegetables that were popular and tasty, in Argentina. Normally Ava devoured them, but her appetite had deserted her the moment she landed on her bum. She stared at them, watching in amazement as they circled the plate all on their own. Very carefully, she placed her glass on the table. 
            “Gracias, Senora, but I must go.” She stood up, nodded to her hosts, and made her way out the door. 
            At least in her dreams she did. 
            In reality, she moved to stand and winced as the pain renewed in her side, a low persistent throb. The table supported her as she lowered herself back into her chair, listening in horror as Matthias came towards her, barking commands.  
            “Let me see.” He gestured to her to pull up her top, and too dazed to care, Ava did so. Warm fingers gently probed her side and then he supported her to stand, as he pulled her hiking trousers aside to see her hip. Dazed she may be, but the pressure of his fingers and heck, even his gaze, turned her blood molten. Her knees quaked and his strong hands reached behind her to support her into a seated position. 
            “Just a lot of bruising, nothing more serious.” 
            “Great.” Ava cradled her head in her hands. “I’ll get on back to the dorm then.” She wanted to go but her legs seemed to have ideas of their own. 
A clucking senora appeared by her side. 
“Brusing and some heat exhaustion. You can’t go to the dorm, chica.” A resolute tone took over as she turned to Matthias. “Take her to the Aconcagua room, she’ll be more comfortable there and I can keep an eye on her.” 
            “Not at all, thank you very much.” All Ava wanted was to be left alone, to figure out what was real and what not. If she stayed here, she doubted she’d ever figure it out. 
            “Good idea.” His deep voice caressed her skin like silk and she shivered at the touch. “Have something more to drink, Ava and I’ll take you up.” Bringing a jug of lemonade from the fridge, he filled a glass for her.  She took it, grateful to have something to do. His fingers brushed hers - by accident? Sparks crackled up her right arm. She wouldn’t have been surprised had her hair stood on end. A pastry was treated to the shredding action of her nimble fingers. 
            “I have to go.” Senora de Romero rose up on her tiptoes to reach his cheek just as he leaned down to accept his Mum’s kiss. “I need to go into Mendoza for some things. You look after her!” 
            A small spark of panic threatened to close her throat against the water she drank. What? She was going to be alone with Matthias again? The man was far too dangerous, made even more so by her desire to let him look after her. She had managed fifty weeks of her year without getting romantically involved with any of the men she had met; she didn’t want to fall at the last hurdle. It would be heartbreaking to allow an intense attraction—like one she’d never experience before—to weigh her down when she had to leave for home.  
            Maybe she should go right now with his mother to Mendoza instead, find a bus to take her back over the Andes to Santiago in Chile, get to the airport, get a flight, get home and be able to…breathe. 
            An inner voice scoffed at her not to be silly. Who was to say this devastatingly handsome man would want a girl like her? 
            “Come and I’ll show you to your room. I think you need to rest a while.” At his words, Ava started, suddenly conscious she had been staring. She filled her lungs with a deep breath.. Maybe they were right, she should stay here. The desire for clean white cotton sheets on a bed, in her own space almost overwhelmed her. She hadn’t had her own bedroom since working as a chalet girl in Australia. 
            Matthias came to her side and offered an arm to lean on. She took it with gratitude and he directed her to the doorway next to the larder, a flight of wide wooden steps snaking up to the next floor. Once there, Ava lost count of the numbers of turns and corridors they walked down only to arrive at a door with Aconcagua written above it. 

Tuesday, 13 December 2016

Captured by Christmas...

A Christmas Anthology: Snowbound and the Mistletoe Effect.

Isn't that a fab title? Not my own, but by wonderful (and beautiful!) author, Lynn Crandall.

It’s Christmas, and the season of holly, Christmas trees, and goodwill is drifting on air in merry holiday wishes. Romantic suspense and paranormal author Lynn Crandall and contemporary author Lainee Cole present in their own way two stories of love in Captured by Christmas. However it finds you—under a Christmas tree or drifted in snow in a backwoods cabin—the spirit of the season will wrap you in love.

In Snowbound, Lynn Crandall lets readers check in on favorite Fierce Hearts series were-lynx characters Kennedy Mitchell and Asher Monroe as they uncover the identity of the creature scaring the humans in Octavia, a small rural community in northern Michigan. Plans for an intimate getaway and family-style holiday are crumbling as the snow piles higher and Kennedy and Asher find themselves snowbound with a killer outside their door.

In The Mistletoe Effect, Christmas is second-grade teacher Tess McCall’s least favorite holiday, but she’s doing her best not to let it show. Learning he’s a father to seven-year-old Holly makes Alex Randle anxious about the upcoming holidays. When Tess’s class starts reading to shelter dogs, Holly and the antics of shelter dog Mistletoe lead them all to rediscover the magic of Christmas.

Lynn very kindly agreed to answer some random questions that I like to ask any author...just a bit of fun :). 

If you were told that you couldn’t write in any medium anymore otherwise the world would blow up, what would you do? I have been told something similar to that. The voice is an inner critic that tells me I’m going to have my head chopped off if I write. I keep doing it. If the fate of the world depended on my not writing, I’d consider hiding my writing and keep an eye out for signs of explosions.  Hey, that's a fun answer, go for it Lynn. Just hope the explosions don't start on this side of the Pond!!

If you knew that no-one would ever read your writing, would you or would you not still write and why? Be honest! I would continue to journal. I’ve journaled almost all of my life and feel it is creatively and emotionally satisfying. But I do want my writing to be read. Still, I’ve come to an understanding that I write for myself with the hope that readers will find my work enjoyable. If they do, it’s very nice and I feel all sparkly inside.  Feeling sparkly is simply the best :). 

What is your favourite word, and why? AAHH…I have so many. In fact just this year I started keeping a list of words I find interesting. Maybe that’s one of my quirks. The list includes moribund, vacuous, capricious, acute, and many more. I’ve always loved the sound of words and enjoy stringing them together. Capricious is wonderful--makes me think of fairies and fun things!

How would you like to be remembered? I’ve given this thought, believe it or not. I’m an introvert who reflects a lot. As an author I would like to be remembered for writing interesting stories that feature characters who struggle but don’t back down. Who don’t succumb to what others think and who travel through their internal issues to become the best they can be. As a person, I would like to be remembered as someone who listened and accepted and loved. That's a nice way to be remembered!

Desert Island question – I know, it had to be here – so you know you’re about to be banished to a desert island for ten years. There will just about be enough food and water for one person, but nothing nada zero zip else. You can make one wish – what is it? My wish would be to go home or wherever I wanted to go, but definitely off that barren island. A-ha! Clever one!

If you had to choose between love and sex for the rest of your life, which would it be? Definitely love. I think a relationship can have wondrous intimacy without sex. But sex is a really good thing to do with a loved one. I agree with you, wholeheartedly!

And just for pure, adolescent fun, which superpower would you choose and why? I am so glad you asked this question. It’s a question more people should ask. I write paranormal romance and look at the characters as within the world’s realm of normal, we all just don’t realize it yet. Life has so many possibilities. N-e-way…I would choose the ability to fly. Life has so many possibilities--you're right. Perhaps we all have superpowers, we just don't know it. Flying would be awesome!

Awesome answers, thank you Lynn. It's been really wonderful getting to know you better and I wish you all the very best of luck with your fabulous sounding anthology. Perhaps your co-author might pop along and answer some questions for me too. Thanks, and have a wonderful holiday season!!


To read more about Lynn and to buy her Captured by Christmas, head on to:  

Twitter, @lcrandall246,