Rule Breaker with Guest Blogger: Tawny Weber

Chat with author Tawny Weber 

today at the Book Boost!

Relationship Rules

Did you ever break a rule without realizing it?  Not those unspoken, social rules that I sometimes think are just there to trip us up.  And not the ‘ooops, I was just keeping up with traffic, I didn’t realize I was speeding’ type of rule.  No, I mean the personal, set by us because we think it’s vital to how we want to live our life, kind of rule.

Now, most of my personal rules are pretty simple.
 
* Everything looks better with cute shoes. 
* If you’re going to do it, enjoy it.
* Empowering others is good.  Disempowering yourself is bad.

The heroine in my new release, A SEAL’s Seduction, has a few rules of her own.  She’s determined to live life on her own terms.  To control her wilder impulses.  And to make sure whatever she does, she’s able to face herself in the mirror the next day.  But her most important one is "No Military Guys".  None, never, no way, no how.   But when she sees the hottie she met on the beach again, she’s hesitant, but since she’s pretty sure he’s not military, she figures it’s safe to give her wild attraction toward him a chance.

A Note from the Book Boost:  Thanks for joining us today, Tawny.  The book sounds great!


Excerpt:

Alexia paid the cab and stepped onto the shell-encrusted sidewalk in front of JR’s.  The club-slash-bar fronted a long stretch of beach, both lit up like carnival attractions.  

She wasn’t sure why she was here.  She definitely didn’t need another drink.  But she didn’t want to go home, either.  And the idea of spending any more time with Edward, pretending that everything was peachy keen, was enough to make her scream.

She wanted to dance.  To relax in a crowd of strangers.  And JR’s was the only bar she knew enough to feel safe.  A regular hangout of the Navy locals, it wasn’t that it didn’t get rowdy or wild.  But it had three major advantages.  One, it was a familiar place so she knew what she’d get when she walked through the door.  Two, she was there to dance, and if anyone tried to push for more, her get-out-of-trouble-free card, aka the mention of her father’s name, would cut them off at the knees.  And three, she’d never get involved with a military man.  Ever.  She’d had enough of the military growing up to know that a sailor’s first priority was to his very dangerous, often secretive career.

And while she respected that, she had no interest in being background noise in someone’s life.

Still, walking into the club was like stepping face-first into chaos.  Noise, so loud the music had to be felt instead of heard, pounded through her body.  Heat from the crowd of bodies swirled with an ambitious air conditioner.  Lights flashed, strobed and glowed, depending on which way she turned her head.

Maybe she should have just gone home.

But she’d have gone crazy there, with just her thoughts and guilt for company.  Michael was on a date, and three days back wasn’t enough time for her to have made any new friendships.  So she was on her own.

And she needed action.  Movement.  Something to shake off the sexual tension that’d been driving at her all afternoon.  Since hunting down the sexy savior from the beach wasn’t an option, she’d figured she’d do the next best thing to release body tension.  Dance.

About to head for the flashing lights of the dance floor and kick up the heels of her favorite Manolo’s, a man at the bar caught her attention.

Blake?

The hot, gorgeous and sexy from the beach?

A slow, wicked smile curved her lips at the sight.

He was just as appealing dry and clothed as he’d been wet and half-naked on the beach.  In jeans and a simple t-shirt that did wonders for his broad shoulders, he looked like a guy who just wanted a drink and some alone-time.  Too bad for him, though, since a blonde barracuda was tiptoeing her red-talons up his chest.  Was that was his type?  Blatant, busty and ballsy?

He grabbed the blonde’s hand on its downward sweep, shaking his head.  She didn’t back off.  Alexia bit her lip to keep from laughing at the range of emotions chasing across his face.  Irritation, confusion and just a hint of amusement.  Poor guy, he probably hadn’t realized this was a navy bar.  Which meant pushy, desperate women all focused on one thing.  Catching themselves a sailor boy.

He looked like he needed saving.

Sliding and pressing her way through the crowd of bodies, she made her way to the bar.  The music was quieter here, but the cacophony of voices made up for it.  She was about five feet away when Blake’s gaze found her.  Delight flared in those blue depths, making her girl parts feel oh-so-happy.  Happy enough that she hesitated.  Getting all hot and wet over a stranger wasn’t a bad thing.  But it wasn’t where she was at in her life right now, either.  Despite what she’d told Michael, she had feelings for Edward.  Ones that deserved to be explored.  She couldn’t explore feelings for one guy while another was tickling her girly-parts.  It just wasn’t right.

But could she leave Blake there at the mercy of the red-taloned barracuda?

As if sensing her struggle, Blake gave her a wide-eyed look of desperation.  Hurry up, he mouthed.  Alexia’s lips twitched, but her feet started moving again.

She bypassed the blonde to move around so she was behind Blake.  Heavily made-up eyes glanced her way, dismissing her with a flick of those false lashes.

It was going to take stronger measures, Alexia realized.  Warning her girly-parts not to get too excited, she moved in close, draping her arm over the broad, muscles of Blake’s shoulders.  He was like steel.  Solid, strong, sleek.  Her mouth watered.  To give it something to do before she actually drooled, she leaned forward to brush a friendly kiss over his cheek.  He smelled like the ocean.

Clean, salty, intoxicating.

“He’s with me,” she said, giving the blonde a go-away tilt of her head.

Want More Tawny?

Visit her on the web here: www.TawnyWeber.com

Pick up a copy of her book today!  Click here.

Around the Block with Guest Blogger: Emma Leigh Reed

Chat with Featured Author 

Emma Leigh Reed 

today at the Book Boost!

Overcoming Writer's Block

When that big mental block hits, how do you get past it? Writer’s block is a writer’s nightmare. I had taken a hiatus from writing for about six months due to some personal issues. Yet when coming back to it, I suddenly faced that monster in the closet – writer’s block. How do you get past that?

There are several ways to move around it, ones that I am working on.  I can say I haven’t pushed all the way through it as of now, but writing this blog alone is progress over writer’s block.  I have several ways to work through this.  Remember these all take time.  You are not going to start one of these activities and find the writer’s block gone.  Well, maybe you will – and if you do, consider yourself very lucky!

Writing sprints:  Writing sprints are a great way to have the support of other writers. Every winter I join the Ruby-Slippered winter writing festival.  They have timed writing sprints throughout the day and evening for anyone to join.  Basically you are a group of writers in a chat room and write as much as you can for 20 minute intervals, checking in with everyone at the end of the intervals.  I have had times in writing sprints where I have accomplished nothing. Not a great feeling for someone who is so competitive, but it pushes me to try further.

Journal Writing: Writing in a journal is another way to break through writer’s block. Write personal experiences, the struggles of writing, whatever may come to your mind.

Don’t isolate yourself! Meet in person with other writers if possible. There is something about being with another writer, who understands the difficulties that can give you renewed inspiration and motivation.

Keep track of your writing. I keep a calendar with how much I have written each day.  Yes, lately I have a bunch of goose eggs on it.  But when those new numbers start popping up, reward yourself!

For those who love to write, writer’s block can be devastating. But build yourself up again by trying some of the above steps. Remember why you write. For me it is the love of putting my emotions on the paper.  Today, I’m celebrating.  I just took another huge junk out of my writer’s block!


A Note from the Book Boost:  Emma, I've been there and done that.  Just emerging from a little slump myself.  I think the sprints work best for me because I can easily commit to those short goals.  Thanks for hanging with us today.  Please share a sample of your latest with us.


Excerpt from Mirrored Deception:

“I will not hire a bodyguard!” Jayla Ralston stormed across the room. She righted a small bookshelf and started picking up the books from the floor. “You’re overreacting once again.” Jayla couldn’t believe her sister would even suggest such a thing. 

“How can you say that?” Jenna’s eyes moved over the mess as she racked her fingers through her hair. “Your apartment has been broken into and trashed. You’re being impossible. What do you think Mom and Dad would want you to do if they were here?”

“That’s a completely unfair question.” Jayla closed her eyes and took a deep breath. Jenna had a way of hitting below the belt using their parents to create guilt, knowing only too well it worked every time. 

Jayla grabbed the broom from the closet off the living room to sweep up the broken shards of glass from pictures that had been scattered about the room. “I will think about it, okay?” she whispered, only wanting to make peace with her twin.

“You know I love you, Jayla. I just don’t want anything to happen to you.” Jenna’s voice softened. “I worry about you.”

“I know, but you really don’t have to. I don’t think he will bother me again.” Jayla’s voice broke. She wished she could show more confidence. Looking at the two of them was like looking in a mirror. They were identical, and yet very different.

“I’ve got to go, sis. Will you be okay?”

“Of course, Jen. I’m fine. I’ll just clean up.” Jayla walked her to the door and hugged her close. “I love you. Please don’t worry.” 

As she shut the door and turned to survey the damage: the overturned chair and knick-knacks scattered about the living room, Jayla choked back the tears. How could he have done this to her? Her pictures of her family were broken and strewn about the floor. A bodyguard wasn’t needed. What was needed to get away from it all. 

She turned and headed to the bedroom. Dragging a couple of suitcases out of the closet, Jayla started throwing clothes into them. She debated whether to call Jenna and decided against it. She wanted to disappear and give herself a chance to think. Jenna would only be telling her she couldn’t run from her problems, but to meet them head on.

She needed more than this. Jayla slammed the suitcases, grabbed her laptop and headed outdoors. She threw the bags in the trunk and gave a good look around the parking lot. Convinced no one was around, she jumped in and started the car. She pulled her hair back in an elastic band and pulled from the parking lot. With no destination in mind, Jayla aimed for the coast.

For the first few miles, Jayla kept a watchful eye out for anyone following. After an hour it became clear she was the only one on the road. Her grip loosened on the steering wheel, the tension leaving her shoulders. As she rolled the windows down to smell the cool ocean breeze, Jayla’s mind wandered. She wanted her life back -- yet, she wanted a different life. She was filled with many regrets of late.

Driving the coastal route, she paid no mind to the time until her stomach grumbled reminding her she’d missed dinner, and she became very aware of the time. Dark shadows had crept across the landscape. She clicked on the headlights, realizing the gas gauge read empty. How could she take off on a whim without thinking of fueling up? She could hear levelheaded Jenna now -- “never thinking”. 

Want More Emma?

Visit her on the web here: www.emmaleighreed.com

Pick up a copy of her book today!  Click here.

The Dog is in the Details with Guest Blogger: Sandra Ireland

Win a copy of Foxfire &

 meet our Featured Author Sandra Ireland 

today at the Book Boost!

Appearances can be deceptive!

I believe January is ‘Be Kind to Food Servers Month’ and what a lovely idea that is.It’s a reminder that we should get to know our Food Servers- they could be the next Ryan Gosling or Anne Hathaway! Customers too aren’t always as they seem. I’d like to share with you the story of one of my all-time favourite customers.

Iain was a regular at the little café I used to run in Carnoustie, on the east coast of Scotland. He would come in every day, exactly fifteen minutes before closing time, and order a large mug of coffee and a bacon roll, which took twenty minutes to prepare. So you can see, right there, that he was a prime candidate to go on record as my most annoying customer!

Iain was tall and thin, with a grave expression and long, straggly grey hair. His clothes were shabby and creased, and he always brought his dog, Brodie, with him. Brodie, of course, wasn’t allowed in, but would sit outside on the front step, barking at passers-by. Yes, a real pain! However, there was something very appealing about Iain and I began to look forward to his daily visit, and always tried to find the time to chat with him.

He told me he was a photographer, but other than that I got to know very little about him. Other customers told me he was something of a recluse, an odd character whom nobody bothered with. I felt quite sad for him. One day he turned up late, just as I was locking up, but I could see that he was upset. I put the lights back on and made him a coffee. His dog, his only friend, Brodie, had died. Time passed, and Iain adopted another dog. I often met the two of them while walking my own dog, and we would stroll along the beach, chatting about art, books and films.

One day, Iain confided that he wasn’t well, but he didn’t go into details. Instead he began to reminisce, about the Sixties. He talked about sharing an apartment in New York with ‘John’ and little snippets about his career as a photographer. I listened politely but didn’t ask too many questions. A little while later, I heard that Iain had died. I was very upset; he was a kind and gentle man.

I was stunned, however, when someone handed me his obituary in a national newspaper. My favourite customer Iain, was actually Iain Stewart Macmillan, the guy who took that iconic photograph of the Beatles on the zebra crossing for their 1968 ‘Abbey Road’ album. He’d worked with John Lennon and Yoko Ono and even stayed at their apartment. Around the time he was eating bacon rolls in my little café, he’d also been working with Paul McCartney!

I often think of all the questions I could have asked while pouring his coffee. I wasn’t a writer back then (I guess I was too busy serving food!) but I think the notion of ‘things being not all they seem’ is something I love to explore in my stories. In my new novella, Foxfire, by heroine Myrrh is forced to  trust  the shadowy, unknowable Reyner, in order to rescue her best friend Willow from the clutches of a bloodthirsty duo.

A Note from the Book Boost:  I've wondered if this happens more often than not.  Who is not guilty of treating someone different just because they know they are famous and whatnot?  Just goes to show how treating all with kindness and respect is always the way to go.  You were probably a very important person to him and didn't even know it.  Nice post, Sandra!  Thanks for joining us.


Blurb:

Modern-day Edinburgh. Psychic Myrrh devotes her days to contacting other people’s lost loved ones, all the while waiting for a sign that never comes from her dear departed Frank. Meanwhile, in the vaults and alleyways of the Old Town, the phenomenon of streetslip is growing stronger, tearing down the walls of time and allowing grisly characters from the past to prey on the present. Someone else’s problem? Myrrh thinks so, until her best friend Willow disappears and then it suddenly becomes personal. Enter Reyner, the irresistible stranger who has emerged from the shadows to turn Myrrh’s world upside down. Has he been sent to protect her, as he claims? Or is he hiding a dark, unearthly secret of his own?


Excerpt:

“How did you get in?” I breathed.

“Details, details.” He gave an odd little shrug that tilted his head so that he looked at me sideways though the curtain of his hair, like a predator eyeing a juicy mouse. But there was a warmth about him that calmed me down a little, and a shrewdness that promised to back off if I started to scream. I didn’t. We both relaxed a little.

“I want answers,” I said, in a voice that had slid back to normal. 

He put the fiddle and the bow down carefully beside the computer, which was probably not a good thing since it released both of his hands, and I was still wary of him. Thankfully, he folded them across his chest as he turned to face me, then leaned one hip casually against the edge of the table. 

“You won’t find answers in this room, talking to the dead,” he said helpfully.

“I want answers from you,” I clarified.

Want More Sandra?

Visit her on the web here: http://sandraireland.vpweb.co.uk

Follow her blog here:  
http://sandra-awaywithwords.blogspot.co.uk/

Pick up a copy of her book today!  Click here.

Contest Time:

Leave a question or comment for Sandra and be entered to win a copy of Foxfire.

Always On My Mind with Guest Blogger: Rebecca Heflin

Win a copy of Rescuing Lacey 

& meet featured author Rebecca Heflin 

today at the Book Boost!

Inspiration Happens

As an author, I think the question I am most often asked is, “Where do I get my inspiration?” To which I often reply, “Everywhere.” The next question I am often asked is, “What comes first, the character, the setting, the plot?” to which I reply, “Yes.”

Frustrating answers, no doubt, but completely true. The inspiration for my stories can come from a variety of places, people, and experiences, even other stories I read or movies I see. The key is to be open to any and all avenues of inspiration.

I find travel to be my biggest inspiration. A trip to Oxford, England to take a Jane Austen course at Christ Church College inspired my first novel, The Promise of Change. A recent trip to the Napa and Sonoma Valleys with my husband inspired the idea for a future novel set in the wine country, while my high school reunion last year gave birth to the idea for a novel about a prodigal granddaughter.

Music, too, is a powerful source of inspiration. I often listen to music while I write. I love how it evokes emotions that color my stories. Recently, one of Sting’s songs — one I’ve heard thousands of times — struck a chord in me (okay . . . pun intended). For some reason that day I really listened to the words and the backstory for the song began to take shape.

As for who or what comes first, again, it can be all of the above. Sometimes the character comes first. I start with, “What if?” For instance, in my work-in-progress, Dreams of Perfection, I wondered what if a romance author falls in love with her own hunky, but fictional heroes to the detriment of her love life. She can’t find Mr. Right because she’s always looking for Mr. Perfect instead. What lessons must she learn to find her own real-life happily-ever-after and what would those lessons look like?

Other times, it’s a specific scene that plants the seed. My latest novel, Rescuing Lacey, was born from a real-life incident that happened several years ago on a trip to Costa Rica with my husband.

We were on a hiking trip in Corcovado National Park, a densely forested park that encompasses some 263 square miles at the tip of the Osa Peninsula, when a storm hemmed us in. The pilot who had dropped us off at the ranger station couldn’t make the return trip to pick us up. After a harrowing hour of thinking an unplanned bivouac in the forest without tents or sleeping bags was our only option, the pilot radioed that he’d make an attempt at a quick landing. We had to be ready to run for the plane.

The pilot landed in a blinding rain, lightning streaked sky, wind bending the trees first in one direction and then the other. We boarded the plane, careful to avoid the still-revolving props, relieved to make our escape, but fearful of the treacherous flight ahead.

About ten minutes into the flight, the pilot radioed the closest airport, only to learn it was closed as a result of the weather. The next closest airport, across the Golfo Dulce, was also closed. We found ourselves airborne with nowhere to land.

Below you can read the excerpt from Rescuing Lacey inspired by this real-life adventure. This was the first scene I wrote for the novel, and like ripples in a pond, it grew in both directions from there.

After I drafted the scene, I thought about my heroine. Who was she? What life-events shaped her? Why would she be in that situation? What experiences had led her to that point? And where would she go from there?

The trick to inspiration is keeping your mind open (and a notebook handy). You just never know what will trigger your imagination and lead to the next great romance novel.

A Note from the Book Boost:  Sounds like you've had a lot of great adventures in your life.  I loved hearing about them and I'm sure your readers will love to read wherever your imagination takes them.  Nicely done.  Please tell us more about your latest.


Blurb:

When tough battle-scarred photojournalist-turned-wildlife-photographer Lacey Sommers travels to Costa Rica in a last-ditch effort to save her job, she meets beach-bum-gorgeous Luke Hancock, an outdoor guide, environmentalist and expert on economics and sustainability, who’s been hired by her magazine to serve as her pilot and wilderness guide for the duration of her stay.

It’s clear from the outset there is a powerful physical attraction between the two, but strong personalities, pre-conceived notions, an unexpected and contentious family connection, and the scars from a tragic death and a terrifying event threaten to keep them apart.

Will Lacey shed the mantle of Kevlar she’s worn for so long and allow Luke inside her heart? Or will her ostensible strength be her downfall?


Excerpt:

Lacey knelt down, adjusting her telephoto lens to achieve the sharpest image. They’d finally stumbled across a red-eyed tree frog, one of the must-haves on her list of shots. Satisfied with the composition, she pressed the shutter.

Before she could snap another photo, she shot to her feet, like toast from a toaster, camera dangling from the strap around her neck, hands fisted at her sides.

“What?” Luke asked.

“Get him off me,” she ground out, her teeth gritted in revulsion. She pointed toward her leg and watched as Luke glanced down in time to see the frog climb up her inner thigh and duck beneath her shorts. 

Lacey sucked in a breath. The cold, wet suction-cup feet clung to her. She couldn’t even breathe, afraid any movement would prompt the slimy thing to crawl further up under her shorts. If it got to her crotch, she would die on the spot. 

Luke didn’t think it was possible, but Lacey’s eyes grew wider as the frog apparently made his way farther north. Enjoying her dilemma, he explained, “You know, because water and air flows so easily in to and out of amphibian skin, amphibians are much more vulnerable to possible pollutants on our hands—”

“Just. Get. Him. Off. Me. I didn’t invite his invasion of my person. He should have thought about that before he assaulted me,” she hissed through gritted teeth. 

Luke couldn’t hold back the chuckle that escaped, or suppress his wicked thoughts as he knelt down and peered up her shorts to see where the frog was hiding. The sight of her muscular thigh and pink panties nearly made him forget his mission. He slowly slid his hand beneath her shorts and up her inner thigh. 

“How do you know it’s a he?” he asked, taking pity on her and hoping to distract her from her obviously uncomfortable predicament. 

“Like that even deserves a response,” came her sarcastic reply. His soft laugh only inflamed her ire. 

“Don’t you think it’s rather ironic that you’re afraid of the very thing you’ve been sent here to photograph?” 

“I’m not—” Her angry denial was cut off when his warm, rough-hewn hand closed over the sensitive skin of her inner thigh, cupping over the frog and making her flinch at the heat rocketing up her spine. 

“Hold still,” he instructed, “otherwise I can’t promise he won’t head for . . . warmer regions.”

She shivered in response to his touch. She had a frog on her thigh, and astonishingly she now had sex on the brain. Luke’s hand rested on her thigh longer than she thought necessary. “You’re enjoying this way too much,” she said through tight lips. 

Damn right I am, Luke admitted to himself. Her thigh was as hot and smooth as sun-warmed silk. His fingers itched to glide further up her leg, to hear her gasp in pleasure, rather than in disgust. Between the monkey and the frog, Costa Rica’s fauna was making better time with her than he was. “No, I’m simply trying not to startle him.” 

“Then lose the shit-eating grin.” 

He struggled to assume a disinterested face, while she eyed him furiously. 

His hand gently closed over the offending amphibian, grazing the apex of her thighs with his fingertips, triggering yet another wave of heat up her spine. He slowly inched his hand out from under her shorts, extending the exquisite torture. She didn’t know which caused the stronger adrenalin rush: her revulsion of the wet frog, or her arousal from Luke’s warm hand. 

As soon as his hand cleared her shorts, she began pacing and cursing.

Good thing the forest was devoid of tourists, Luke thought, otherwise their ears would have been scorched. Her vocabulary could make a hardened criminal blush. Luke released the frog, watching it hop away without a backward glance. 

“Good riddance,” Lacey muttered. 

“Hey, frog’s no fool. Saw a warm, inviting spot and went for it.” 

“Spoken just like a man.”

Ignoring that comment, he asked, “Want any more photos?”

“No, I don’t. I’m done with that”—she shivered—“frog.” Picking up her pack and turning away, she continued to walk in the direction they were previously headed. 

He hefted up his bag and followed after her, wiping his hands on his shorts. “Let me get this straight, you’ve covered two wars, but you’re scared of a little frog?” He shook his head at the vagaries of women. 

“I wasn’t scared. It just—it startled me.” She refused to admit to him she was ranidaphobic. “How would you like it if something wet unexpectedly landed on your thigh? Wait! Don’t answer that!”

His only response was a low rumbling laugh that carried deep into the rain forest.     

      

Want More Rebecca?

Visit her on the web here:  www.rebeccaheflin.com

Pick up a copy of her book today!  Click here.

Contest Time:

Leave a question or comment for Rebecca and be entered to win a copy of Rescuing Lacey. Available in both paperback and in e-book.

The What If World with Guest Blogger: P.J. Sharon

Win a copy of Waning Moon & 

chat with YA author P.J. Sharon 

today at the Book Boost!

It’s nice to be here with you at Book Boost. What a great site for writers and readers! With all of the cool books you have showcased here, I bet you’re seeing more and more Dystopian novels like mine.

Waning Moon, Book One of The Chronicles of Lily Carmichael takes place in the year 2057. Here’s a short synopsis.

With a global shift threatening to wipe out the Earth's population, sixteen-year-old genetically enhanced Lily Carmichael has more immediate problems. Her uncle is dying of cancer and her healing abilities are ineffective against the blood ties that bind them. In order to find a cure, Lily must leave the protection of her quiet town and journey into the trading city of Albany, all while avoiding the Industry, an agency that would like nothing better than to study and exploit her abilities and those of her thirteen-year-old brother, Zephron.

Seventeen-year-old Will Callahan has been searching for his father since severe storms blasted through the Midwest, killing his mother and sister. When he learns that his father may be in the city, he decides to travel with Lily, who has come to his rescue more than once. But the secrets Will’s keeping could put her in far more danger than traveling to Albany with him, and if he was any kind of man, he would have told her to run the minute she found him. 

So the question is, why are people drawn to both writing and reading Dystopian stories?

Here’s my take. I live out in the Berkshire Hills in a small remote town surrounded by woods. My neighbors across the street are my only neighbors for three quarters of a mile in any direction. We often get together to share a meal, play some cards, and talk about current affairs. 

Waning Moon came about after many discussions about how we would survive a catastrophic global change. It seems everyone these days has concerns about where our world will be in the years to come. With economic insecurity, volatile weather patterns, and threats of terrorism around the world, people have a right to be concerned. I’m not one to live in fear, but I understand why so many people are wondering what the future holds. I think our young people in particular are vulnerable to the pervasive climate of fear in our culture and they are curious about the possibilities that lay before them.

Hunger Games by Suzanne Collins was one of those stories that was timed perfectly. In my opinion, although well written and engaging, its wild success is more about timing than anything else. It gave young readers a glimpse into a post-apocalyptic world where against all odds, a teenage girl could become a hero with just her wits and a bow. Despite being dark and gritty (two very appealing qualities in teen fiction), the trilogy has all the right ingredients for success. A main character who is an underdog willing to sacrifice herself for her sister, a romantic triangle, and an action-packed series of events that push the envelope of acceptable societal behavior. We look on, horrified as if watching a train wreck, but wondering if we have it within ourselves to go so far as to kill to survive.

The term Dystopian has come to be associated with “post-apocalyptic” stories of doom. But literally it translates to a utopian world gone terribly wrong. Today’s story tellers have taken it one step further and added a sci-fi element, often incorporating beings like zombies and vampires, or aliens and genetically engineered teens. Yet the common thread seems to be the old stand-by theme of good vs. evil. Whether it’s a big bad government agency or a zombie apocalypse, dystopian stories hinge on the collapse of all we know and the human fight to survive or overcome whatever challenges we face. 

Dystopian stories like Lois Lowry’s The Giver, or Meg Rossoff’s book, How I Live Now, tend to focus more on the natural progression of a world spinning out of control. Whereas series like James Patterson’s Maximum Ride and Scott Westerfields’ Uglies trilogy lean toward the sci-fi bent.

My trilogy falls somewhere in between. Since it takes place about forty-five years in the future, there will be many recognizable places and technologies in play, but make no mistake, I believe we are on the brink of some major global changes and that the landscape of this world will be drastically different in the near future. 

I’m sure technology will progress to include contraptions not yet imagined, but other changes may send some of us back a hundred years. I like to think we have the ability to change for the better—that the coming generations will find a way to adapt and that salvation of our planet and our species is possible. 

I see myself as what is now being called an apocaloptimist—someone who believes the world is falling apart but thinks it will all work out fine in the end. That’s why, in my Dystopian world, Lily Carmichael is a healer, while her brother is a life-taker. That fundamental conflict lies within each of us and I believe our future hangs in the balance. 

The Chronicles of Lilly Carmichael deals with that conflict. Of course, there is also a budding romance, some big sacrifices that will have to be made, and an action packed adventure that will include a pair of loveable wolves. I hope you’ll join Lily and Will as they embark on this three part journey. Waning Moon is only the beginning. 

So, tell me, what do you all think of Dystopian lit? Do you have a favorite?

A Note from the Book Boost:  Thanks for joining us on short notice today, P.J.  We appreciate the opportunity to share your book and thoughts with our readers.  I try not to think about the future too terribly much as I'm a worrier by nature and would probably make myself sick if I zoned in on the "what if" too much.  Instead, I try to make each day the best and I'm working hard to have a positive outlook on life despite the sadness of our world's news.  Wish you the best with this series.  It sounds amazing!     

Want More P.J.?

Visit her on the web here: http://www.pjsharon.com

Pick up a copy of her book today!  Click here.

Contest Time:

Leave a question or comment for P.J. and be entered to win an e-copy of Waning Moon.

Drop By for Yummy Cake with Guest Blogger: Donna Alward

You've Gotta Try 

This Recipe From 

Romance Author Donna Alward 

today at the Book Boost!

A Note from the Book Boost:

Featured Author Donna Alward sent us this yummy recipe to share during the holidays but...well...it didn't make it up on the blog during the last minute frenzy.  However, if you're at all like me...cake is good every day of the year!  And this poor cake shouldn't be made to suffer another day.  So, I'm posting it now...here...LIVE...on January 15th.

Now, I know what you're thinking...hey...Kerri @theBookBoost, I'm trying to lose all that holiday poundage...why in the world would you share that recipe now?

To that I say...give a piece a chance!  Oy!  So, maybe I don't have a future in stand-up comedy but hubby & kids think I'm funny.  I've got that going for me, eh?

And...now...without further ado (and before I overdose on the use of ellipses in a single post)...


A Recipe from Donna Alward:

Gum Drop Cake

This cake is a holiday tradition. Usually my daughter makes it, and has since she was about 8 years old! While the recipe says you can use baking gums, the real sugared gumdrops work best!

1/2 cup Margarine
1 cup white sugar
2 eggs
1 tsp vanilla
1/2 tsp salt
1 tsp baking powder
2 cups flour
1 cup milk
1 cup gum drops (no black) chopped, or baking gums

• Cream margarine and sugar, beat in eggs 1 at a time. Add vanilla. Mix together flour, salt, and baking powder. Add to the mixture, alternating with the milk until smooth.
• Dust gumdrops with flour (to keep them from sticking together). Add to batter. Grease and flour a funnel or bundt pan. Bake at 350 until toothpick comes out clean. Wrap in foil and let ripen for 1 week (if you can stand to wait that long!).

We’ve also made these in mini-loaf pans to give as gifts!

Want More Donna?

Visit her on the web here: http://www.donnaalward.com/

Looking forward to this February Release!>>

Click here for details.

Watch My Back with Guest Blogger: Linda Thomas-Sundstrom

Win a book and chat with 

author Linda Thomas-Sundstrom 

today at the Book Boost!

Hello Book Boost Blog. Glad to be here today. Thought I’d jump in with a post about my something on my mind.

I’ve been asked a hundred times over why I choose the characters in my books. Why those particular people, with their particular backgrounds inspires a story, or a series. And I can answer this pretty simply, at first.

The people I write about have to have certain qualities that I either might aspire to in their situations. Qualities I’d look for in friends, close acquaintances, and lovers. Not perfection, certainly, but close to it, according to my own internal parameters for things like that.

Of course, a vampire might not be somebody’s idea of the perfect male. So, when I write about vampires, my males still have those qualities that would make me want to love, or admire.

I write paranormal romance, and about worlds where the supernatural is imposed on the known one. So my Others carry over my search for the ideal. As tortured, scarred, or dangerous as my immortals and werewolves might be, in my world, they are never despicable criminals or monsters. They all possess the stuff that makes me want to write about them over and over again.

My latest Nocturne is out now. Guardian of the Night is part of my Vampire Moons series for Nocturne, which takes a few of the seven Blood Knights from the Aurthurian times up through the centuries and into the present. The Seven have scattered around the globe, still honoring the quest that set them into motion as a group. They still maintain the qualities that made them a part of the honorable knights of old. But they are, of course, immortal. They are also world weary, and lonely, but remain in seclusion.

In Guardian of the Night, we find Mason LanVal in France. One of the Seven, with all those characteristics I told you I like: loyalty, strength, intelligence, elegance, and control. All seven of the Blood Knights are Guardians of a holy relic, and are tied to that cause. Mason LanVal has stretched his blood oath to include guarding the mortals his area.

I just love the idea of a guardian angel. Of having someone like that watching over me when I might not even know about it. And if I found out, then what? Would you approach such a being? What would you do?  *** That’s the question of the day.

The first of my Blood Knights was detailed in last year’s Golden Vampire. Another of them will appear in 2013. Really, writing about these guys is an adventure in pleasure. No matter how serious their stories are, and how deeply they go into their own world, I’m there to chronicle it, and to share their plights and oaths with you.

Guardian angels? You bet. No wings on these guys, but they do have a pair tattooed into the skin on their backs. . . that never let them forget what honor is all about.

Hey – that’s it for me. How about you?

I know that some folks like their vampires dark and horror-ified. They get off on that chance that he will roll over and bite you on the neck while you sleep. Is that what floats you? Or, like me, do you crave that Guardian? And maybe knowing that the Seven are out there somewhere, keeping the bad guys from you?

Does a Guardian have to be an angel? Does yours? Fill me in on your thoughts. One lucky commenter will win book from my backlist.

I hope you’ll give the Blood Knights a read. Guardian of the Night is out now.

Oh, and yet another dark immortal makes an appearance in my novella for Nocturne’s Holiday with a Vampire 4 anthology. He’s sexy, too.  Ha-zah! These guys are sheer author bliss.
   

A Note from the Book Boost:  I totally believe in guardian angels.  That little voice that tells you not to turn down that road or go down those darkened stairs.  Of course, the question remains...do we most often listen to that little voice or ignore it?  Thanks for joining us and this series sounds amazing!


Blurb:

The Guardian. An immortal with incredible strength, created centuries ago to protect the purity of the vampire bloodline and fight those who would abuse its power.

As one of the seven Blood Knights, Mason LanVal spent lifetimes honoring his vows without wavering. That all changed the night he found Faith.

Faith James will do anything to save her missing sister, even if it means risking her own life. She sought Mason for help, and instead found more questions and the key to unlocking her own latent powers. She is a woman and a trueborn Lycan. Her pull on Mason is twice damned, and yet he can't tear himself away.

With just one kiss, the blood gift Mason gives Faith sets in motion an all-consuming desire that is forbidden to indulge, but impossible to ignore....

Want More Linda?

Visit her on the web here: 
http://www.lindathomas-sundstrom.com

Pick up a copy of her book today!  Click here.

Contest Time:

Leave a question or comment for Linda and be entered to win a book from her backlist.