Intimate details. Meet author Holley Trent!

Please welcome author Holley Trent to my blog today. Holley is here as part of the Colorado Romance Writers blog hop “The Mystic Month of May.”  Please leave a comment to be eligible for a free copy of Holley’s book, Executive Decision.

This is where the blog hop takes a huge detour from The Rockies way out east to North Carolina. Just hop on 70-E and drive for about 30 hours: you’ll be there in no time.

I moved west in December during a freak snowstorm that dumped about a zillion inches of powdery cold stuff onto I-25 which made our drive north from New Mexico (we took a detour southwest through Oklahoma and Texas) take about three times as long as it should have. The more I talk to Coloradans, the more I’m told that as far as weather goes, I should expect the unexpected. After all, we’re a mile above sea level. The sun may be three inches away, but being on the Front Range causes some unique climate issues.

North Carolina’s climate is a bit more predictable. Of course, the state frequently hosts devastating tropical storms and hurricanes, and every now and then during the winter there’s some icy precipitation that causes folks to panic and clear out all the milk and bread on the grocery store shelves, but we expected those things.

North Carolinians know that November through March are the “cold” months.  June through September is the period of suffocating humidity. October is the “wear shorts with a light jacket” month. April is the wet month. That leaves May.

May is when everyone breathes easy. There’s respite from the mud caused by the spring rains, everything is in bloom, all the pollen has been washed away, the water at the beaches is warm enough for a dip, and the cardinals start to go crazy.

The cardinals are what I’ve missed most this first May in Colorado. I didn’t much notice them until after my grandmother died a few years ago. In the moments I missed her most, they seemed to show up out of nowhere. If I was looking out kitchen window, one would perch out on the deck and preen itself. If I were driving home from the grocery store, a pair would swoop down towards the road in front of my car and then flit away quickly. Northern cardinals are easy to identify and seeing the females always cheered me up.

Cardinals don’t come this far west and I’m sad for it. However, a couple of weeks ago I saw my first blue jay which I think is one of nature’s most beautiful species. North Carolina has blue jays, too, yet it took moving to Colorado for me to see one.

Looking out the window in May just makes me happy.

Thanks for indulging me! At the end of the hop I’ll give away an electronic copy of my erotic romance Executive Decision to a random commenter on this post. For information about my stories or what I’m up to, please visit me at holleytrent.com or follow me on twitter at @holleytrent.

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Author Holley Trent here tomorrow May 29!

Got a cowboy whose story is waiting to be told?

The Wild Rose Press is seeking submissions

Call for Submissions in Cactus Rose

Posted by: “rpenders” rpenders@thewildrosepress.com  rpenders

Tue May 22, 2012 12:29 pm (PDT)

Feel free to share with your writing loops, etc.

Lawmen & Outlaws Series

Got a hankerin’ for bad boys and badges? So do we!

Saddle up and send us your bad boys ready to be reformed by love. Or your lawmen who long for the love of a good woman. (We like female outlaws and heroines who uphold the law, too!) Characters should be heroic at heart, and people we wish we knew in real life. Throw in lots of conflict, smoldering sexual tension, an historically accurate western setting, and a happily ever after ending, and you’ve got the kind of story we `d love to read!

Outlaw characters must be worthy of being a TWRP hero, no cold-blooded murderers or rapists, please. Lawmen should be devoted to upholding the law even at great personal sacrifice. Setting can be anywhere west of the Mississippi in the 1800s. Length 7,500 to 25k. Heat rating can range from sweet to hot.

Send your queries or questions toqueryus@thewildrosepress.com, subject line Lawmen and Outlaws Series.

From minor breakdown to Golden Heart finalist, with horses thrown in.

Introducing Colette Auclair and her wonderful, witty writing. Thanks for being on my blog today!

I hope you enjoy this new author. Please leave a comment for Colette. I will pick a random comment and that contributor will receive an e-book copy of one of my novels.

Colette and her mare, Brooke

First off, I’d like to thank Clare for my first guest blog post! It’s an honor to play in this happy blog habitat.

My first book, Thrown, recently finaled in this year’s RWA Golden Heart contest in the Contemporary Single Title category. You might think it’s about a sport involving a ball or discus, or perhaps a WWF smackdown. But no, it’s about two characters who are (forgive me for this) thrown together because of horses and then (ready?) thrown for a loop when they fall in love. Does someone get thrown from a horse? You’ll have to wait until it’s published to find out.

This all started because I wanted to write a screenplay and I wasn’t. After having a minor breakdown on the couch one morning that caused my husband to offer to send me to a screenwriting workshop, seminar, conference, cruise, Ph.D. program or a year of private lessons in Tahiti with Nora Ephron–anything, just so I’d please stop crying–I took an online screenwriting class. I ended up with a fifteen-page outline, or treatment, for a romantic comedy based on The Sound of Music–only mine had horses instead of music, a grand prix jumper rider instead of a governess/almost-nun, a hottie movie star instead of Christopher Plummer’s sea captain, Aspen instead of Austria and a manipulative grandmother instead of Nazis. (Although the Nazis would have been happy to have her.)

Treatment completed, class completed, it was time to write the script. Problem was, I couldn’t get the scene after the closing credits–something I’d never use–out of my head. So I wrote it in prose so my characters would pipe down and let me write their movie for them.

And I’ve never had more fun writing anything. Which is saying something, because I’ve been privileged to write some outlandishly fun things like TV commercials in my day job as a copywriter.

I told myself I’d write the story as a novel merely so I could get to know my characters better. The words flowed, I hated leaving my computer, and voila, four months later I had inadvertently written a full-blown romance novel. All thoughts of screenwriting vanished. I found my calling.

It was like finding all the “buttons” on a horse you’re riding. Ride after ride, you get to know the horse, you discover that if you’ll just keep your left hand still, the horse stays straight, and if you don’t “yell” with your outside leg, the canter transition will be smooth instead of a buck. Then one day, everything clicks. You only have to think of what you want and the horse does it, happily. The two of you become one. That’s how if felt as I wrote Thrown. My writing had found its dream horse.

Now I’m fully committed to getting published, no matter what. I’m polishing my second book, Love in the Time of Colic, and have scads more story ideas–all involving horses somewhere, somehow. I hope romance (and horse) fans will enjoy reading my books as much as I love writing them.

Excerpt from Thrown

Setup: Amanda, the riding instructor, slipped on the poorly designed barn floor and hurt her back. Grady, her movie-star employer, feels guilty that she got hurt and has brought her dinner in bed.

Grady let out a huge sigh and switched on the lamp on the bedside table. This guest room was closest to the kitchen and the front door. It had a king-size bed, a wall-mounted flat screen TV, a full bathroom, and a sage-and-purple color scheme.
Amanda’s hair was tousled and her eyes were drowsy. The tank top rode up to reveal a couple inches of a toned stomach, which he ordered himself not to look at.
“Hiiii!” she said again. The word rose and fell over several roller-coaster syllables. “These muscle relaxers are awesome.”
“You don’t say.”
“I’m not gonna pull a Rush Limbaugh or anything. I just feel all floaty. You brought me dinner?”
“Soup, courtesy of Harris.”
“Harris. I love Harris. He’s so cute. And he cooks. If only he weren’t gay…Where is he?”
“He came by, but you were sleeping. How’re you feeling?”
“You’re pretty cute too.” She bit her lower lip.
He ignored this. “I told Jacqueline everything you told me about taking care of the horses, so between the two of us and the girls, we should be fine. And,” he said sheepishly, “I promise I’ll replace that floor as soon as possible. I had Jacqueline call for estimates.”
“Good.” She nodded vehemently, then stopped. “Whoa. Dizzy.”
“Want some soup?”
“You’re so nice to bring me dinner. So nice and soo cute!”
“Let’s see.” He presented the tray so she could see the food. “You’ve got lobster bisque, a fresh fruit salad and a hunk of what I believe he called ‘crusty artisan bread’—Tuscan, to be precise. Sparkling water. Dark chocolate—it’s Vosges.” He pronounced it correctly, vohj. “The good stuff. I had to talk him out of sending a get-well martini.”
“Look at you—always thinking of my liver.” She smiled.
“Among other parts,” he muttered. “Voila.” He unfolded the little legs on the tray, placed it on her lap and unfurled a light green linen napkin for her.
“Come sit with me.” She patted the mattress beside her.
“I should be going.”
“I could fall asleep and drown in the bisque.”
He sighed. “All right. But just for a minute.” He moved around the bed and sat next to her. Amanda smiled brightly as though he had just given her a Hanoverian stallion and custom-made saddle. She dipped her spoon into the soup and frowned, then slowly lifted the spoon to her lips and slurped. She looked like it was her first day working with spoons, bowls and soup. She was silent for several forays, then spoke.
“Your kids like the push-ups.”
He looked at her. “That’s the drugs talking.”
She took another spoonful. “Not the push-ups per se—push-ups per se, thass funny! What I mean is, they like riding, right?”
“Okay?”
“So I’ve solved the mystery of the nannies.”
“What mystery of the nannies?”
“Why they don’t like their nannies. They like riding. You know why?”
“Wild guess, but because it’s fun? And by the way, if you hadn’t noticed, you are really high right now.”
“Partly because it’s fun. But they behave for me. I gotta say, I was worried at firss.
“Did you know Harris called me the shit? I’m the shit, Grady.” She waved a hand at him. “Kids beg their parents to get me as their trainer. And I come here and I get, ‘My horse is ugly! I’ll die if I have to brush my horse.’” She whined to bolster her imitation. “So I said to myself, Amanda, you’re the shit. You teach them like you’d teach anyone else. No special treatment, even though their dad is all dreamy and a big fat star.
“Did you know I haven’t taught raw beginners since, like, college?”
Grady was staring at her, mouth open. Watching her was like watching a member of a newly discovered tribe on a remote island. He realized she was waiting for his response, so he said, “No, I didn’t.”
“I made an exception for you. For them. And they’re coming around now. But at first I thought they were spoiled rotten brats. But now I like them—they’re fun. They tried to pull stuff on me but I didn’t put up with it. And do you know why?”
Again, it took him a second to realize she expected an answer. “Because you’re the shit?”
“Damn straight! You can be the shit too, you know. Juss set some rules. Makes ’em feel like you care. When they came into my barn—and don’t get me wrong, I know it’s your barn, but you know what I mean—I told them no swearing and now they don’t swear. I juss tole them. And I carry through on the push-ups. Oh sure, I had to groom their horses—well, Rainy, because Wave was down with the grooming right away—but Solstice came around. I bored her into it.” She paused to slip a spoonful of bisque into her hard-working mouth.
“I mean, come on, who wants to watch someone brush a horse?” She poked his arm with her spoon. “It’s freakin’ dull. Now they’re happy to groom their own horses. It’s basic horse training, psychological stuff. You make the thing you want the animal to do seem like it’s the animal’s idea.”
“And my daughters are the animals?” He didn’t like this, but she was so funny right now, he wasn’t all that bothered.
“Grady, we’re all animals. It’s how our brains work. We’re all about survival. Maslow’s Ladder. We’re hardwired to want safety. Food. Sex. All that.”
She had to mention sex. He was grateful the tray hid her midriff.
She continued. “And what’s with their names? Were you guys hippies or something?” She slurped more bisque. “Oops!” She giggled as lobster bisque dribbled down her chin.
“Here.” He dabbed at her chin with the napkin. “I think Annie did it to bug my mom.”
Amanda looked dreamy and sultry all at once, even though she just called his girls brats and animals.
She stared at him, blinked in slow motion, and continued. “Thanks. Yeah, all you have to do is do what I did and make ’em do stuff. Rules. Response…responsblitty. Responsibility,” she finally managed, crinkling her brows in concentration. “Give ’em choices.” Looking back at the bowl, she carefully slid a bisque-laden spoon into her mouth. “Mmm. This is deliss…delshish…good.”
“So you don’t think I’m a good father?”
“I think you’re a hot father.”
Suddenly, Amanda set her spoon down and wonderingly, gently touched his hair. She looked at it with the queerest expression of awe, like a Woodstock attendee after the acid kicked in.
“Mmm, nice,” she said softly, and furrowed her fingers through the thick mass of dark wavy hair, then pulled his head to hers as though gearing up for a kiss. “Sexy.” Her traveling fingers landed at the nape of his neck and tickled him. Grady found this extremely arousing and thoroughly unnerving, so he took her hand and guided it back down to the vicinity of the spoon and tried to ignore his body’s response.
“More soup?” he asked quickly.
She picked up the spoon absently. “Nah. Nap. Sleepy,” she murmured as her eyes closed.

10 Things I learned from my mother

Happy Mother’s Day to all!

This is my pretty, Irish mother. She taught me many things.
About karma….
1. Never speak ill of the dead.
2. Never kill a spider in the house.
About nutrition….
3. Fish is brain food. (She knew this 50 years ago. Why is it in the news only recently?)
4. Carrots are good for your eyes.
Politics…
5. Never wear orange on St. Patrick’s Day. (If you are Irish, I think you know where she was coming from on this.)
Sex education….
6. Any man or boy will say or do anything to get into your knickers.
7. Any woman can look good on her back. It takes a real woman to pull off brilliance the rest of the time.
On growing old.
8. Red heads do not grey gracefully.
9. If you are confused…just smile!
10. I will always love you.

If your mother is still living, tell her you love her every chance you get. If your mother has passed, be thankful for the times she was your biggest fan, the times she fought to protect you, the times she told you what was right and what was wrong.

Thanks Mom.