Friday, November 30, 2012


Why are good girls always drawn to bad boys? I know I personally gave my mom grey hair during my “bad decade” as a roadie for a band called Nasty Habit. You know the saying “he’s the one your mama warned you about”? Watch the movie “Dirty Dancing” w/Baby (Jennifer Gray) falling for Johnny (Patrick Swayze)—see what I mean? The smoldering eyes, the cocky grin, the “I dare you” attitude…

Is it the whole opposites-attract/grass-is-always-greener thing? Is it the lure of the forbidden? The yearning to escape the same-old-same-old? Whatever it is, it’s one of the most popular sorts of pairing-up in romantic fiction. The-princess-and-the-pirate and such. He’s just a work in progress waiting for the right woman to redeem him. A message of hope? Reinforcing the love-conquers-all theme? 

I am currently finishing up Moonwitched, the LAST book in the ‘Guardians of Light” series, Book 7. Seven books are enough for a single series, I think. So I started thinking about their children forming a “Daughters of the Guardians” trilogy—Braeca, Piroska and Elyria. Those will be the titles, I think. So I started plotting out Braeca’s story.

Braeca is Finora’s daughter (LYCAN TIDES). She’s your typical oldest-daughter. Uber-responsible mini-mom, who’s taken care of her little brother Ioain since she was six and he was two. (Hey, she held off a dragon with a busted lamp—nobody messes with her baby brother!) She’s a warrior-scout and a weather-witch, now with FOUR little brothers and sisters—everything she does is for kin & clan. She’s never done anything wild or crazy or irresponsible in her life. So who does she need to rock her world and shake things up a bit—or a lot?

Geeze-Louise, what HAVEN’T I done in seven books already? Something new…something unexpected…the ultimate bad boy…


Enter Flyn, a dark elf prince. (Check out the AWESOME pic I found on DeviantArt.com—http://mavrosh.deviantart.com/art/The-Dark-Elf-Portrait-285961487) A very morally-gray warrior-mage from a patriarchal, autocratic society where the strong rule the weak and women are seen and not heard. Braeca is a revelation to him. His society is utterly different from hers—HER clans are matriarchal and democratic, and anyone trying to silence a woman would definitely be singing in a higher key. Permanently. 

Opposites attract? You got it. The ultimate alpha bad-boy with smoldering silver-mercury eyes meets a practical lass who doesn’t take any crap from any man. These two are going to be smoking hot—and I now have the story line all plotted out. Political intrigue, betrayal, family infighting, lies and deception, well-meaning family interference, bitter rivalries… (I am SO not a pantser—I always need a map!)
So the Guardians look to have a strong legacy to carry on in their Daughters.

I’m curious—who’s got a bad boy tale or two of their own to tell?

Tuesday, November 27, 2012

Flash read by Cerise DeLand! Love...and murder!

Shibari master meets reluctant sub!
I like Quickies.
And on the chance you do too, here's one of mine!

UP! A short story of love (and high crimes) by Cerise DeLand
Diego parked his  police cruiser at the service entrance to the Stanley Hotel’s restaurant. He cursed at the traffic that had delayed him.  Who knew so many people would be up at five a.m. on a Wednesday?
He was up…for Cherry. In more ways than one.
He jammed the gear into Park, slid the key out of the ignition and grabbed his package.
Running like hell past the idling postal truck in the service drive, he flung open the door and made for the hotel kitchen.
As he passed the walk-in refrigerator, he saw Cherry’s skinny sous chef leaning over a large dark object on the floor. The thin plastic strips that kept the cold air inside the place were cloudy, but the scene was clear to Diego.
He would deal with the sous chef—and the dead man as soon as he completed his most important task.
Diego charged on, toward his goal. Cherry stood near the stoves, giving her staff their instructions for the morning. Her back was to him, her long wild red hair caught up in a net and chef’s white toque. She was tall, but built like a woman who loved food. And sex. And gave every bit of her luscious bod.. And god, to look at her curves, especially her ass, was always a treat. And the reason he was so Up this morning.
One by one, her staff members spied him and tried to suppress a grin.
She spun, curious to learn what drew them.
And when she saw him, even though she had last glimpsed him—naked, gloriously Up for her and driving right into her luscious body—she beamed at him.
“Diego! Darling, what are you doing here? Oh!” She cooed at the sight of his armful of three dozens red roses. “I see. You brought my favorites for my birthday.”
“You are my day,” he told her as he wrapped one arm around her waist, drew her to him and let her know how Up he truly was. “My day, my night, my moon and stars. Marry me, Cherry, baby.”
She cooed her agreement as she rubbed her body against his. “Yes, yes, yes!”
She framed his face with her warm hands, her elegant fingers soft against his cheeks.
“I cannot kiss you, Cherry.”
Crushed at his rejection, she examined his face.
“In a moment we will kiss and show all your staff how you make love with your lips and tongue and teeth.” He grinned at her. “But first, I must tell you that in your refrigerator, your postman is dead.”
Everyone gasped.
“He was stabbed by your sous chef, my darling. I had to give you these first. And propose. Now allow me to call the police. And then I will kiss you and make your staff jealous.”
She wrapped her arms around his shoulders and brushed her breasts against his chest. “I always knew you were my hero. You solve crimes, you bring roses and you are always Up.”
All rights reserved. Copyright, 2012 Cerise DeLand. Enjoy many more of Cerise DeLand’s stories! Go here: http://www.cerisedeland.com

Monday, November 26, 2012


Giving thanks
Hello everyone.
Now I know that Thanks Giving is already done and dusted in North America and you’ve gone and flashed the plastic at the Black Friday sales, but while you were giving thanks and enjoying turkey and pumpkin pie, down here in New Zealand where we don’t have this holiday it got me thinking about what I was thankful for.  Now like a Miss World entrant (albeit an old and wrinkly one, and certainly not a size zero) I would give thanks for my family and friends and world peace.  But what about the other stuff?
Last night I was out meeting a bunch of friends = we’ve all adopted our children from Russia and while my littlies arrived in New Zealand 16 years ago, I still give thanks that I was able to adopt these precious souls. Even though the teenage years were gray hair material!
But then there is my writing life.   I often get asked if I always wanted to be  a writer. But honestly I don’t remember, but I truly give thanks for fate leading me in this direction, it is a wonderful career, and I take delight each day in being able to craft a story of passion and yes, hardship, that the two souls will have to overcome to find that they are truly meant for each other.  Such is the joy of being able to put obstacles in their way, so that they may realise the great love they have for each other in the end.
So what about my characters?  Some of them are really memorable.
Cade Harper of HE’S THE ONE  Cade is a take no prisoners kind of guy.  Tough, but fair.  What is he thankful for?  Family.  His brother and sister, because they have stood by him, and vice versa.  And mostly he is thankful for Taylor Sullivan the wedding planner who had the guts to ask him the hardest question on earth – teach her how to have sex.

Then there’s Carly Mason in ROMEO FOR HIRE.  She’s desperate to find a ‘date’ and had invented Mr Invisible.  Now they want to meet him.  So what’s Carly thankful for – a flat tire in the middle of know where and a man with bedroom eyes.
Mac Grainger is a tough, take no prisoners wildcatter in SECRETS AND SEDUCTION. He never wanted to settle down, never wanted to marry, then his brother dies and the only family he has left is his brother’s child.  Mac is thankful that little girl leads him finally home to face a past he’d wanted to forget and meet a woman who is warm and loving but then her secret forces him to make a decision that exposes his most closely guarded possession – his heart. 
And finally because it’s coming up to the festive season, there’s Angel from TO KISS AN ANGEL  She is so thankful she gets the chance to fall off her cloud and go back down to earth, breaking Angle rule 750.2 paragraph A.  But canoodling with a client sure can be fun.
So as the holiday season draws scarily close, I would like to wish you all well and that you take time and give thanks for all the blessings we have in our lives, for your family and friends.
Leaving you with a tempting angel…

Excerpt -

Jane Beckenham

“Gather round, Angels. I have a job for you.” Angel Beatrice’s voice boomed across the heavens.
Reluctant to give up her prime position on the fluffy white cloud, Angel 459 nevertheless knew a command when she heard it. Shame. The day was sublime with clear blue skies rolling on forever. The perfect day for a snooze before harp practice, she decided.
Stretching her arms skyward, her wings fluttered their own protest as she came alongside that cute Angel 007. She smiled at him, only to have Beatrice cough rather loudly.
“Right, there’s a job for one of you. A chance to get your very own cloud, so to speak.  A chance to have another shot at earth,” Beatrice advised.
A collective ooh bounced across the bulbous cloud where the angels congregated. Angel’s heart raced, excitement buzzing to the very tips of her fingers. Her wings flapped repeatedly.
“Settle down, Angel 459,” Beatrice countered. “The job isn’t yours...yet.”
A twitter of giggles and flapping wings circled Angel. Damn it. “Oops, sorry Big Bopper,” she whispered. She had a habit of giving people nicknames and knew for a fact that the Almighty kinda liked it, but that was their little secret. “Didn’t mean to say that.” At least not out loud, she added with a secret wink.
“Sure you did, Angel. You’re always speaking without thinking,” 007 piped in.
“Am not.”
 “Angel 459, please step up.”
Beatrice directed her clear gaze towards Angel. “You are 459, otherwise known as Angelica?”
Angel nodded.
“Then step forward, girl. Don’t dilly dally. You’ve a job to do.”
A job. A job. She’d got it. A chance at earth! But the big prize was a new cloud. Closer to the big guy. Angel couldn’t help a little skip for joy as her wings flapped and she glided towards Beatrice. The other angels fell back.
“Angel 459, your job, should you choose to accept it…”

Happy reading everyone and my you have a wonderful holiday season
Jane Beckenham

Sunday, November 25, 2012

What Did They Know? When Did They Know It?

No, I’m not referring to the tragedy in Benghazi, but rather a couple of questions my editor kept asking as she edited Temptress of Time. Which, of course, got me thinking. Just when and how much of their past lives did my heroes remember and how did it impact their lives with my heroine.

I started writing Temptress of Time (originally titled That Other Diane) because I wanted to get more emotion into my stories. My editor had commented that many authors have difficulty with that aspect of their writing. The authors I most admire, however, don’t seem to have that problem. Even when I pay attention to how they phrase things, I just can’t quite get there.

Anyway, my editor’s questions about my heroes took the book in a slightly different direction from where it began. It  became more about my heroine’s journey and what she learned about herself.

As to whether or not I succeeded in evoking emotion…I’ll leave up to readers to decide. I’d love to have your feedback at: deebrice@sbcglobal.net.

Have a wonderful day.

Dee Brice

Friday, November 23, 2012

Scottish Romances by Cornelia Amiri

Let’s face it, Celts are hot and who doesn't love a man in a kilt. I write a unique variety of Scottish romances, spanning the Iron Age to modern times.

If you like Scottish warrior heroes, I offer Druid Bride and The Scottish Selkie.

Druid Bride

Druid Bride is set against the backdrop of the Pictish tribes joining together to battle Romans.

Blurb: She carried the seed of rebirth, so what had fallen would rise again. The ghost of her ancestor sent Druidess Tanwen from Britannia to the strange foreign tribe of the Caledonii to wed Brude, son of the chief. But Brude is not about to marry a druidess, even though she has the most beautiful body he's ever seen. Never mind if his blood boils and he can't stop thinking of her. He will not wed her. Yet the fate of Caledonia rests in the hands of the Warrior and the Druidess. Will they put their differences aside to fulfill their destiny.


The Scottish Selkie

The Scottish Selkie is set in 9th century AD, when Kenneth Mac Alpin rises to power over the Picts and the Scots.

Blurb: From ancient druid lore, springs the tale of a mysterious, dark warrior, a fiery Pict Princess, and the shadowy secret standing between them. A bow and arrow carrying Pict beauty takes vengeance on a royal target but fails at her attempt to slay the Scot King, Kenneth McAlpin. To save her life, she is forced to wed the king's cousin, Malcolm. Just as the Scot warrior and the Pict Princess begin to forge a bond, Malcolm must reveal his incredible secret and choose between two worlds, one with Bethoc or one without.

Dancing Vampires Series

My Dancing Vampire Quickie series with Ellora’s Cave is set in the modern day Scottish Highlands. My vampires are really baobhan sith (baa'-van shee), vampiric fey who roman the highlands. All of them are women, no men and they have talons, no fangs and like other vampires, they drink human blood and they fry in the sunlight. Many call them dancing vampires as they look for young men coming from the pub at night. The baobhan sith dance with them until the men are exhausted then they transform their nails to talons and claw at their skin, draining their blood. Two books of my Dancing Vampire series are available now: Dance Of The Vampires and Vampire Highland Fling. With three more to come: Ever So Bonnie A Vampire, One Dance With A Vampire and Valkyrie Vampire Ball. Totaling five in all, I refer to them as 5 Shades of Fey.

Dance of The Vampires

Blurb: One of Ian’s six brothers kicks over the stones of an ancient cairn, unknowingly freeing Sorcha and her six sisters from underhill. The seven handsome Scots are enchanted by the voluptuous temptresses until they turn on the men. Ian captures Sorcha, giving his brothers a chance to escape. With the dark fey woman still in his grasp, Ian is saved by the rising sun.
Her sisters vanish with the light of dawn and Sorcha is trapped in the mortal realm. The seductress can’t resist Ian’s attentions as he stirs throbbing urges she’s never felt before. Ian is bewitched by the wild delights offered by this vampire siren. He can’t get enough of her. Still, her wicked sisters and his highland brothers want nothing more than to attack and kill each other. Will Sorcha and Ian’s sizzling passion prove strong enough to overcome the differences between the dark fey and humans?

Vampire Highland Fling

One of Ian’s six brothers kicks over the stones of an ancient cairn, unknowingly freeing Sorcha and her six sisters from underhill. The seven handsome Scots are enchanted by the voluptuous temptresses until they turn on the men. Ian captures Sorcha, giving his brothers a chance to escape. With the dark fey woman still in his grasp, Ian is saved by the rising sun.

Her sisters vanish with the light of dawn and Sorcha is trapped in the mortal realm. The seductress can’t resist Ian’s attentions as he stirs throbbing urges she’s never felt before. Ian is bewitched by the wild delights offered by this vampire siren. He can’t get enough of her. Still, her wicked sisters and his highland brothers want nothing more than to attack and kill each other. Will Sorcha and Ian’s sizzling passion prove strong enough to overcome the differences between the dark fey and humans?

Ever So Bonnie A Vampire

Coming Soon

Blurb: Calin has had fantasies about the vampiric fey, Ever’s, warm, curvaceous body ever since they danced a year ago. When they meet again he waste no time in claiming and capturing her. Once the sun rises, Ever can’t leave the earthly realm and is bound by fey lore to the human, Calin. Though he has saved her from the sun, things get pretty hot in his arms. Thrust into the mortal realm, his love making excites her like no fey man’s ever has but she’s consumed with the vow she made to her sisters to not leave them for a mortal man. She fights her feelings for Calin and seeks help from goddess Morrigan.

The goddess has feelings of her own for the tall, muscular mortal so she frees Ever to return underhill. It isn’t until Ever’s back with her sisters that she realizes her heart is still held captive by Calin. When Calin spurns Morrigan’s attentions, the goddess’s lust turns to vengeance. With Ever out of his reach, underhill, and a goddess shape shifting into different beasts to hunt and kill him, Calin McDuff must risk his life and fight all odds to be with the woman he loves.

For my Scottish Romances and more, please visit me at my website, Facebook, and Pinterest.


Comment below with email and one winner will be chosen for your choice of PDF Ebooks of Druid Bride an Druidess or Dance Of The Vampires and Vampire Highland Fling.

Thursday, November 22, 2012

Organically Grown Thanksgiving

Hubby and I often cook for our loved ones on Thanksgiving Day and Christmas. We prepare entirely organic meals like the Pilgrims did, made with fresh, free-range turkey (no steroids, hormones, preservatives), organically grown vegetables (no pesticides or herbicides), and homemade organic pumpkin pie from scratch (also free from additives, high fructose corn syrup, artificial colors, and other chemicals). The food is healthy and delicious and we don't feel guilty afterward.

If you haven't cooked with organically grown foods, I urge you to give them a try. You'll be amazed at how good food tastes without harmful and unnecessary chemicals and additives. Here's a pumpkin pie straight from the Dubois oven. Doesn't it look yummy?

I hope you and your family have a wonderful holiday.

Happy Thanksgiving!

Wednesday, November 21, 2012

Sweet N Sexy Soulful Quotes

Here we are just one day away from Thanksgiving and I know I have a lot to be thankful for. How about you?

Amid the hustle and bustle of the approaching holidays, I've heard many people plan to utilize their long weekend vacation by catching up on some reading, myself included. So, what better way to prepare for a relaxing stint of romance reading than to get a taste of some hot new releases perfect for the holiday season.

The books I feature are from authors who were not afraid to be soulful, sappy, and/or suggestive when it came to their heroes. So, grab a seat, and pick up a pen and paper (or fire up your eReaders) so you can add these to your TBR collection.

(And just so you know, you can purchase each book separately - as I've provided the Kindle link next to the author's name - or as a set.)

Happy reading!

“You’re not a loser.”

“Of course you don’t think I am.” Dawn’s accusing voice rose. “You’ve always been there for me, haven’t you, Clint? My old boyfriend. It’s your claim to fame here in Legend. Everyone knows you as Dawn Smith’s high school steady.”

He came to his feet. “I think it’s time for me to go.”

“Okay. Run away, everyone else does. Leave me. I don’t care. I don’t need you. I don’t need anybody!”

She was hysterical. On the verge of losing it. Dawn gulped. Her head swam with fear. What was happening to her?

He towered above her. Dawn was forced to look up at him. Clint stared down at her, condemning, questioning. “What’s wrong with you? Are you on drugs or something?”

“As hard as it may be for you to believe,” she said raising her chin in what was left of her dignity, “I never do those things. Not every actress in Hollywood is a party girl.”

Her head spinning, Dawn searched his eyes. She blinked away the lump growing in her throat. “Oh, my God, Clint,” she whispered. “I didn’t mean all those things I said.”

He gave her a lopsided smile. “I know you didn’t.”

“I’m not totally selfish.” She said aloud more to make herself believe it.

He lifted a finger and smoothed back a wisp of hair. His touch was a shock. It sucked the breath from her. Dawn reached up and caught his hand, drawing it down to her cheek. She shut her eyes, resting against the palm of his hand, against the strong feel of his fingers.

A small part of her heart wanted Clint and all he represented. Home, family, a strong man to care about, to love. She couldn’t give Clint what he ought to have. Getting involved again wasn’t fair to him, but tonight she needed him more than ever.

“I want you to take me to bed,” she said in a voice so low even she had trouble hearing it. “I want you to make love to me.”
~ Jan Scarbrough, Santa's Kiss

Swallowing hard over a growing lump in throat, she stepped closer to Matt. Gathering up the clothes he held out to her, she clutched them to her chest but never let her stare waver from his. She peered deeper.

“I know I’ve said this once, but I’m going to say it again. I’m so sorry, Matt,” she whispered. “For everything.”

Something broke in his expression, and she waited while his gaze played over her face, searching, probing. It landed on her lips, and then lifted to catch her stare again.

An overwhelming desire to rush forward, lift her face to his and kiss him came over her. She tamped it back. No, she could not do that. He was angry with her. Hated her. She was stuck with him here and who knew what his reaction might…

He reached out and skimmed his fingertips along her cheek and jawline, and a fissure of pleasure sped through her, confusing her even more.

“Matt…” she squeaked out.

In one swift moment, he grasped the clothing from her hands, tossed them away, and hauled her up against him. His mouth came down hard on hers and she gasped at the sensation. Firm and determined, he kissed her thoroughly, his hands at her back holding her against his chest, his lips playing over hers, his tongue searching for more.

The unleashed passion boiling up in her was like an answer to a long-awaited prayer. An urgent yearning suppressed and set free. Of a question long hanging in the air responded to with loving fervor. Heat welled up inside her until she thought her chest would burst.

She was kissing Matt. Not her high school boyfriend, but Matt, the man. The one she’d left behind. And unless she was mistaken, he was hungry for more.

But… but what could this lead to? Where could it go?

Those thoughts dissipated as his mouth left her lips and trailed lazily down her neck in a sensual rhythm. A deep sigh escaped his lips. She melted against him.

“Let’s get you out of these wet clothes.” His voice was deep and raspy against the crook of her neck and shoulder.

Chelly pulled back and searched his face. She wondered if he could read her question. Should they?

With a forefinger on her lips, he shook his head. “Don’t… talk. Let’s…”
~ Maddie James, Home For The Holidays

He silenced her with a kiss as sweet as soft red wine, as spicy as sex. Rebecca set her wine glass shakily onto the buffet, put her arms around David’s neck, and pulled him closer. He set his glass down too, almost missing the horizontal surface in his haste to have Rebecca in his arms. It felt so right. It felt like home, at last, after the loneliness and denial both of them had been through.

David came up for air a few minutes later. “So. Rebecca. It feels like we’re onto something here. Like maybe we’re on the same side of the counsel table for once.”

She smiled up at him. “There’s just nothing as romantic as a courtroom metaphor.” Sighing, she ran her hands through his hair. “But I think you’re right. I think we started something up there on the mountain that is worth some…research.” She tipped her head to one side. “Would you like me to file a brief?”

“Hm. I don’t think briefs will be required.” He teased her ear lobe with his tongue.

Catching her breath—and then catching his meaning—she laughed softly and shook her head. “No. You’re right about that. Do you require any type of pleading?”

“Pleading isn’t necessary, either.” David ran his hands down her back and pulled her closer.She laughed out loud. “Okay, Your Honor. What’s the verdict then?”
Magdalena Scott, Christmas Collision

Would you make love to me?”

Jack approached her slowly, as he did many things these days, but this time it wasn’t because of pain. The four days of all-out rest, interspersed with much needed exercise, had restored him as nothing else had and he felt darned good.

His heart fluttered with hope. He hated waking up every morning wondering who he was. Hated it even more since learning he could be a part of a family that he could have deserted. And since meeting Christina, watching her go through the motions of life, and liking the quiet dignity she wore like a cape, he wanted the issue resolved for her as well. Her life must have been hell.

“Have you decided I’m him, then?”

Christina shook her head. “No. I’ve decided you’re not.”

He didn’t know what to say about her decision. If she’d decided that he wasn’t the husband she’d loved, what was she doing teasing him like this? He took her hands and placed them in his own. She smiled up at him, and his already hard dick jerked in reaction. As turned on as he was, he couldn’t let her do something she might later regret.

“What’s this about?”

She studied his face, then settled her gaze on his eyes. “I know you aren’t Johnny. And though I’m not going to explain myself, in many ways, that’s a relief. He’s gone forever. But I’m not. I want to be held and touched. I want to feel something inside a body that has been an empty shell for way too long. And I’m asking you—Jack—to be the man that fills that shell. Is that ridiculous? Is it asking too much?”

Jack took a deep breath, then exhaled. Having such a lovely woman want him, even need him, sexually, was a turn-on any day of the week. But he barely knew himself and her not at all, and there were bound to be repercussions given her situation, and for all he knew, his.

“There are a lot of things I don’t remember right now, but I’m a man, with a beautiful woman, and giving you what you want would be very easy to do. Except I don’t want you to think it’s a mistake later. If I really do prove to be someone else, how will you feel? If we eventually find out I really am Johnny, how will I feel when I realize my beautiful wife wanted to make love to a man she doesn’t believe is me?”

Christina lowered her arms and took a step back. “I don’t know how either of us will feel. But I know Johnny is dead."

“Then how do you explain my looking just like him?”

Christina shook her head. “I can’t.”

She approached him again. “Jack, this is awkward for me, but I am attracted to you. Not like you were my husband, but to you. I’d like to make love with you. No strings attached.”

The humming in his body forced him to reach out and take her, pulling her to him. He closed his eyes as need and want made his body react. “Are you sure?”

Christina looked up at him, bit her lip, then nodded. “I need to do this.” Her cheeks flushed scarlet. “I have lubrication.”

Jack felt the chuckle in his chest, but she looked so serious he couldn’t laugh. “I assure you, we won’t need it.”
~ Janet Eaves, The Christmas Gift

* * *

Renee Vincent is an award-winning author of historical and contemporary romance.

Tuesday, November 20, 2012

The Platypus & Other Things I'm Thankful For

With Thanksgiving just a few days away, I am going to share some of the things I am thankful for:

I am thankful that since Hollywood has already bastardized Bewitched there doesn’t appear to be any news that they’ll turn Cheers into a movie, starring Kristen Stewart. Because that shit would be so wrong, on so many levels.

I am thankful my husband does not have a Twitter account so he can’t make good on his threat to Tweet: Things my wife says and does, that have to be seen and heard to believe.”

I am thankful for Donald Duck getting frisky with a beaver and procreating the platypus. Every time I read the word, platypus, it makes me smile. I like to smile. I’m thankful I can smile.

I am thankful for the 86,400 seconds I have every single day, living.

I am thankful for Google, as it allowed me to search how many seconds there are in a day because it makes me look smart. Doesn’t it?

I am thankful for the delete button on my keyboard which seems to have magic powers of its own. The Magic Big D (as I like to call it) has shielded me from a horrible fate, after I’ve pressed it and abolished chain emails.

I am thankful for my critique partners who don’t call the Waaamhbulance any time I sink into the I sucketh cave.” 

I am thankful for my brothers and sister who told me I must have been adopted, (just because I’m the quiet and shy one in the family and the only one with freckles). This comes in handy when they do something odd and I can pull out the: I’m not related to them card.

I am thankful to Al Gore for inventing the Internet as I’ve met and chatted with wonderful, funny and supportive people.

I am thankful for my husband’s quick wit:

Me while in the kitchen, baking: ”Honey, can you bring me a pen and paper, I have stuff coming out of my head.”

Hubby: ”Don’t you usually use a Kleenex for that?”

I am thankful to the Queen of England who recently celebrated her Jubilee, as it gave my husband more opportunity to make me smile.

Me: ”I think they should call it the Cherry Jubilee, sounds more interesting.”

Hubby: “That would be the Dairy Queen.”

I am thankful to my parents who sailed the ocean blue so many years ago, leaving their motherland behind and giving us a healthy, good life on this side of the ocean. (Although, if the Internet were around back then, they could have Googled the weather and may have boarded a ship heading to a warmer area.)

Most of all, I am thankful for:

The ability to love and receive love.

For being me.

My family—blood-related and bonus family members.


For my eighth grade teacher who gave me the nickname Scout after one of my favorite fictional characters, and encouraged me to write.

For the readers who plunk down their hard-earned money to buy my books.

To my author friends, the ones I connect with and chat with and authors who I’ve never chatted with, but appreciate their talent as they give me endless reading joy.

I know, this is sounding like an Oscar speech, but, “You like me, really like me. Don’t you?” :)

Our fur baby, he’s a great listener.

For all the unsung heroes: sanitary workers, farmers, doctors, nurses, police, fire fighters,  military men & women, volunteer workers, daycare workers, teachers, the Spanx inventor…(the list is endless).

Thankful for all of you who have stuck with me today and read this far.

From our home to your homes, wishing you a happy, healthy, smiling, Thanksgiving that will last throughout the whole year.

Genre-defying, witty, humorous, suspenseful, romantic and sexy— words used to describe Selena’s novels. A self-professed foodie and chocolate guru, Selena loves to dance with her dog, sing into her hairbrush and write in her PJ’s. In love with her family, friends, books, laughter, hockey, lively discussions and red wine (sometimes all at the same time). Selena is a dragon slayer who enjoys reading and writing sassy heroines and hot heroes (the ones your mamma warned you about, but secretly wished she’d dated a few in her life).

Selena Robins is the author of the contemporary, romantic-comedy with a splash of suspense and a good helping of sensuality; WHAT A GIRL WANTS and a short story; TEMPTED BY AN ANGEL.

For more information, please visit Selena on her website or drop by and chat with her on her blog (Selena Robins Musings).