Sunday, November 25, 2012

Interview with a villain by Barbara Edwards

Interview with a Villain from Ancient Awakening

Barbara Edwards
Barbara Edwards: “Everyone loves a hero, but what about a villain? Meet Carl Mason, an all around nasty character.  Hello, Carl. Tell us about yourself.”
Carl Mason: “Call me Mr. Mason. I didn’t ask to be here and I resent your intrusion. I’m busy searching for the secret to immortality. I don’t have time for frivolous questions.” He settles into the leather chair behind his wide oak desk. His library is crowded with books and he hasn’t opened the French Doors to the extensive gardens. I get the creepy feeling he’s like a spider waiting in his web for the next prey. He’s not a handsome man.
Barbara: Then I’ll keep my questions pointed and short. Why did you decide to move to Rhodes End?
Mason: “In my research, I found that certain places in Rhodes End increased the power of certain artifacts. I need that power. I must find the secret to evading death.” He taps the fingers of his left hand on the desk as he rubs his chest with his right. His glare dares me to continue.
Barbara: “Hmm. Sounds like superstition to me, but let’s not dwell on that. This is a lovely house you’ve built. I noticed the paintings of blood sacrifices, the funeral items, and collections of devil worship paraphernalia. Can I have a tour?”
Mason: He slams his hands on his desk and shoves to his feet. “I’m not showing you anything! I have too much laboratory equipment in the basement to allow you access. I’m not revealing any more secrets to you. These collections are from my research and experiments. I’ve gradually eliminated the failures and will soon find success. I will live forever!”
Barbara: “I will be going, then. I can’t say it’s been nice.”

Enjoy this excerpt from Ancient Awakening, Book One in the Rhodes End Series:
With a twist of the key, Steve flipped open the rear hatch. A dozen caged Rhesus monkeys screeched and howled at being disturbed. A large box was labeled with the name of a powerful electron microscope he’d had on back-order for months. Mel leaned over his shoulder to read aloud the return shipping labels on several small packages: France, Spain, and Angola.
Steve leaned against the car frame while he studied the stacks.
“How did he know what I ordered?” he asked. He bent to read the labels on more boxes piled tightly behind the cages.
“He’s got the money to buy information. Remember how much he knew about BioTech?” She shrugged. Her hand brushed his arm before she waved at the opening.
“Of course, this isn’t free.” Mason oozed around the vehicle. He pointed behind the stacked cages. For the first time Steve noticed the dull gray and green stone carving hidden by the other items. Mel murmured an unhappy curse under her breath.
“What does your ugly box have to do with this?”
Steve drew Mel to his side. Her skin felt cold. He wanted to warm her any way he could.
“It’s a simple chore, really, for an experienced researcher. In exchange for all this,” he nodded at the van, “I want you to test the remains in the funeral box for DNA. All we need are a few cells. No other strings.”
“You can’t be serious. After all the strange deaths since the thing arrived here, I won’t allow Steve to have it in his house. There’s a killer after its secrets. It’s too dangerous.” Mel’s firm tone belied the faint trembling in her shoulders.
She was afraid, Steve realized, but not for herself. He squeezed her more tightly and she threw him a hard smile.
“She’s right. All these things I’ll eventually receive. Risking our lives to scrape a few cells from an empty box is totally ridiculous.” He rubbed his hand up and down her arm. Despite being tempted, he wouldn’t accept this offer.
“There’s risk and then there’s risk,” Mason declared, before he drew a metal-banded refrigerated container from behind his back. Red and black lettering scrolled over the surface blazoned a warning sign in a dozen languages. He knelt and released the catches before Steve could stop him.
“You should take these little gems into your laboratory. Too bad you’ll never get them from any other source except me.”
He flipped open the lid to reveal a frost-covered rack of capped test tubes. Red lettering named the contents. Packing cushioned them to prevent breakage. Steve stared at sealed ampoules of the most horrendous diseases on earth.

Hope you enjoyed meeting my villain. Do you think he’s worth another visit in my next book?

Visit me at my website:

Friday, October 26, 2012

Happy Haunted Halloween

Happy Halloween and Blessed Samhain,

We are doing things a bit differently this year and instead of having our usual Halloween party we are participating in the Haunted Garden Halloween Hop.  Please join in and visit the sites of participating authors/lines.  You'll find your journey filled with thrills, chills, and visits from sexy heros and heroines.

We will be revamping (what else would we do here in Black???) the blog in the coming months so please stop by and see our coming changes.  Wishing you a frightful and fun Halloween filled with ghosts, ghouls, witches, werewolves, and of course tricks and treats.

Please enjoy our Halloween Short by the talented Dayana Knight and don't forget to visit the participating blogs posted after the story :)

One Blessed Samhain
Dayana Knight
     Cold, wet nudges awakened her.  Disoriented, Mistreäl Adams awoke.  Eyes widening at the grey animal that stood above her, peering with its head tilted in curiosity.  Its long pink tongue dangled from a doggy-like grin. Amber eyes alert but neutral.
     Where am I? What the hell…
     Misty lay on her back gazing past the wolf into a lacey canopy of pines. Beyond an expanse of darkness crowned, with a silvery full moon, stars sprinkled the heavens like diamonds twinkling on black velvet. The stillness, while unnerving, comforted her.  She chanced another glance at the wolf. It sat back on haunches and continued to peer at her though no malice tinged its attention. It remained patient and observant. Misty relaxed only slightly knowing that to display fear would only provoke the wolf.
      I need to get up. Figure out why I’m here.  She continued to study the wolf.  Would it attack when she moved?  No choice.  Need to do something. I can’t lay on the ground all night.
     Slow and easy, she moved to a sit, eyes locked with the amber ones that continued to watch.  She eyed the wolf. It made no move to interfere with her.  As a matter of fact, it had lain down and rested its snout upon its front paws as it continued to observe her.
     “Why do you study me so?” She asked softly.  “Are you here to protect me?  Otherwise, you had every advantage to tear me limb for limb while I lay unconscious, my furry friend.”
     The wolf tilted its head at her words, but remained impassive, so Misty continued to move into a full stand.  She grabbed for a tree trunk to steady herself.  Dizziness threatened to topple her back to the ground and a black void coated her sight for several seconds.  “Hmm… what the heck is wrong with me?”
     She reached her free hand to her head and palpated her scalp for any damage.  No lumps, bumps or blood.  Vision clear, she examined her extremities.  Nothing wrong there, either.  Her muscles felt sore but other than that, all was well.  A quick glance toward the wolf confirmed it hadn’t moved. 
     “I’m fine now,” she said to the animal.  She waved her hand gently in an attempt to shoo the animal away.  “I can manage now, my furry guardian.  Go back to your pack.”
     The wolf stood and lowered its head, ears down and moved forward.  Misty stood still, a surge of fear shot through her.  She backpedaled only to feel the solid, roughened bark of a pine tree. “Crap.”
     Sensing her fear, the wolf stopped and dropped to its belly.  In a slow crawl, the wolf continued forward.
     Relief spiraled through her system. “Oh! You are submitting. You mean no harm.” Misty squatted down and put her hand out to the creature.  Its cool wet nose sniffed her fingers then the wolf licked her hand. Its eyes turned up to meet hers and a sense of kinship seemed to pass between. “Thank you for watching over me.  Now if I only knew why I am here and where here is?” Misty chuckled and patted the animal on its head.
     The wolf turned and moved away.  It stopped, looked once more over its shoulder, and then disappeared into the forest.  Misty glanced around.  The brightness of the full moon lit the landscape sufficiently for her to see the stone circle in which she stood.  Suddenly she remembered what had happened. 
     She gazed down at the simple gown she wore and instinctively brushed the bits of pine needles and dirt from its skirt.  “I made it!”  She spun raising her hands to the sky. “I’m home!”
     Seven years ago, she’d fallen into the future on Samhain, while she and her Pagan sisters celebrated the harvest.  They danced and lit bonfires for the celebration.  As the others passed between the fires to cleanse themselves of the year of strife and evil, she somehow had slipped through time.   How, she had no idea.  The only thing she knew, it had been on Hallow’s Eve with a rare and coveted Blue Moon.  Somehow, she believed the magic propelled her to the future.  She’d planned for seven long years to return.  Finally, October 31st once again fell on the second full moon of the month. 
     The question remained, had she returned unscathed? Had time stood still? Or is it seven years to the future here as well?
     A cloud blanketed the moon leaving her in darkness.  A chill caressed her skin and the hairs at the back of her neck stood on end.  Someone stood to her right.  Her senses never lied.  Besides she’d heard the soft rustle of pine needles when the darkness fell upon the circle.  She tensed, but stood her ground.
     “Who goes there?”  Her voice carried a confidence she did not feel. 
     Silence, thick and unnerving followed.
     “I know you are there. I sense you. I am a witch, please do not cause yourself harm.”
     “You will not hurt me, witch.” The male timbre caressed her skin like silk and caused a shiver to tremble down her spine.
     “And why would I not harm you?” Misty turned to face the intruder. Like a spotlight, the silvery light of the full moon cast the tall shadow in its radiance against the ebony forest background. Her eyes widened, but she remained quiet.  He stood over six foot tall, lean and well muscled.  His light muslin shirt stretched taut against his strong chest and the breeches hugged well-formed thighs.  Wavy dark hair touched his shoulders and a smile edged his stern, chiseled features.  He leaned against a pine with his arms crossed across his chest.
     “Because it is I who have protected you while you recovered from your fall from another time.” He pushed off the tree and stepped toward her.
     “Impossible! You are not a wolf.”
     “If you are a witch, why can I not be wolf?” He stood in front of her now. In her space.  “Do I require you to prove you are a witch?”
     Misty could only shake her head, no.  She knew this man.  She loved him in the future, and he had followed her to the past. “Damian…”
     “Yes, Mistreäl.  I am who called you to the future and love has brought me with you to the past. Happy Blessed Samhain, my love.  Now we shall never part.”

Thursday, October 25, 2012

What is my reason to blog? by Barbara Edwards

Ancient Awakening

Why do I blog? I didn’t give it much thought when I started. Someone asked me to do a guest spot and I agreed. I was nervous. What do I say? Will I sound foolish? Will anyone like me enough to buy my book?
I totally missed the point. People visit blogs to get information. There is no way to know if what you share is what they are seeking.
To me blogging is very much like putting on a blindfold and walking through a fog, in the dark, hoping to find something that you can’t describe.
I decided that I would start a regular blog of my own and faithfully post three times a week. Hah.
Everyone told me to stick to a single subject, like writing, to draw a faithful following. Well, I can’t follow directions. My blog is all over the place. I blog about places I travel, Civil War reenactments, my writing, my family, psychic ability and anything else that I feel is important at the moment.
It must work. I have followers and regular visitors. I don’t blog three times a week. I don’t have the time if I want to stay with my first priority, my books.
I juggle a lot.
So to get back to my original question. Why?
I don’t know. For each blogger the reason is different. I blog the same way I talk. An idea pops into my head and I run with it.
Maybe you have a different reason. Please share it with me. I’d love to know.

Visit me, follow me, friend me at:
Author Website:
Ancient Blood
Authors Den:           
Amazon Author



Sunday, August 12, 2012

Support from the Home Front

If your loved ones completely support your writing endeavors, quit reading this post and give them a hug.

If sometimes you feel like you "don't get no respect" from the home front regarding your writing, keep reading.

A few years ago, my 12 year-old son happened to glance over my shoulder while I was writing Howl.  He spent the rest of Saturday repeating a rather provocative line of dialogue.  Some sexy talk loses some of its appeal outside the bedroom.  And it loses all appeal when it is recited by a 12 year-old.
    "What are you writing?" My husband demanded.
    "Paranormal Romance," I replied.
    "That will never sell," he said dismissively.

My first thought was Won't Charlaine Harris be surprised?  Then I thought I'll show him.

Fortunately, TWRP did not share my now ex-husband's literary view.  Roar! my second title with TWRP was released last week.  Now that they're older, my kids are supportive of my writing.  Maybe it has something to do with the chocolate pie I bought to celebrate my contract for Howl.  My kids are paranormal fans in their own right-my daughter is a devoted follower of Teen Wolf and my son is a college junior and our resident zombie expert.

So if your loved ones don't get it about your writing don't despair.  Keep writing, they'll eventually come around.  And an occasional chocolate pie doesn't hurt.

Monday, June 25, 2012

Building readership by Barbara Edwards

When I wrote my first book I didn’t even know about readers. I wasn’t worried about those vague future participants in my success. I wasn’t thinking in terms of number of books sold, but in getting the darn thing written and published. I spent months writing my manuscript. Then I put my hours into finding a publisher. When I say hours I mean hundreds of hours before the call came. 

Whoopee! Someone out there thought my book worth putting on the market.

Then came the edits. Oh boy, who knew that that wonderful person who loved my story was so picky? My editor wanted the grammar correct, the plot to flow smoothly, the characters to be consistent, the dialogue to make sense. More months spent on rewrites and edits.
All of this is to please the reader. And I thought my book was perfect when the editor offered a contract.

To get to the point: readers.

Readers buy books. Since my book is so good, I knew it will fly out the door. Hah. A few friends bought it. A few more read the great reviews and bought it. Then nada. I did book signings and sold more. Sold a bunch at the Romantic Times convention.

I needed a way to reach readers. The next move was a website, only someone had my name on hers. Turns out she was an exotic dancer. Sigh. Didn’t exactly drive readers to my site. I added free reads and buy links. I persisted since all my friends and family owned a copy and I really needed to find more readers.

For a time I became lost in the world of cyber promotion. Do you realize how much time you can waste on the web? That writing time is lost forever when it could be used on the next book instead.
I went on FaceBook, Yahoo groups, Goodreads, Shelfari, Twitter, posting my profile and book information everywhere I could find. Sales hiccup with each action.

Then I had the AHAH moment. Another author said, you need to write more books. Each book adds more readers. It’s called a geometric progression in fancy language.

This was what I really wanted to hear. Write, write, write. So I wrote and published several more books. The giant leap didn’t happen. A steady climb, but not huge.

The point is still readers. My publishers are great, supportive and helpful, but they can’t add readers. I get my name out there.

A part of me is still the hermit writer huddled over my laptop, but another part is the media mogul spending part of each day inviting readers to learn more about me, like what they learn and be interested enough to buy my books. I hope you're one of them. 

Visit me at: Http://
Ancient Blood
Amazon Author Page:

Sunday, June 10, 2012

Something Old, Something New

Hi! I'm excited to announce that my novella, Werewolves in London, is out now! It was originally published in the Got Wolf? anthology and is now being re-released as a stand alone novella. This was the first story I published so it's pretty special to me. And it has a whole new cover with sexy JT. (fans face)

Here's a blurb and excerpt:

Werewolf Vonda Diaz has sworn off men, until she meets sexy rancher, Tom McGowan. Try as she might there is something about him she can’t ignore. Determined to keep their relationship professional she finds herself unable to keep her distance. Since his wife died, Tom has no interest in dating, but one look at Vonda and passion ignites. There is something different about her that draws him in. What he can’t understand is why his dog finds her so fascinating. When Tom’s daughter is kidnapped, the two join forces to save her, not realizing the quest will unlock hidden mysteries. Will their budding love survive the secrets they discover or will those secrets tear them apart?

“Your dog doesn’t respect you.” Vonda reached down to scratch behind Sam’s ear. “I can help you with that problem, but I can’t help train him to herd. Do we have a deal?”
Tom took off his hat, scratched his head and slammed it back on as if to hold in steam. Judging from the color of his face, he should have let his hair wave free in the breeze. It might cool things off. One long finger pointed at Sam. One nicely shaped, work hardened finger. The list of things that finger could do to her body rushed through Vonda’s brain on fast forward. It didn’t help that the man whose finger provoked such lascivious thoughts was the best-looking thing in this little Podunk town.
Why was she thinking such thoughts? Concentrate, Vonda, concentrate! Last time she thought this way about a man she was in heat. Oh shit. Not again. No wonder Sam stuck to her like proverbial glue.
Wait. Tom’s mouth was moving. “”
“Huh? I’m sorry, what did you say?” Good job Vonda, way to look stupid on your first visit with a client.
“I said, how can that dog not respect me?”
“Well, dogs see things differently than humans. If you don’t act like the alpha, then they assume they are the alpha. That’s what creates problems. That’s where I can help.”
“Yes, yes. I know. But I have other herding dogs. None of them give me problems. What’s up with that?” A frustrated green stare bored into her.
Men frustrated so easily. Humans in general. Ever see a canine with hypertension?
Sam licked her hand. Then she smelled it. The scent of a man. Not just any man. A man she wanted to mate with. A man about six four, with sandy blond, almost brown hair and green eyes. A man who stood less than three feet from her.
Damn hormones.
If she didn’t get out of here soon she’d lose any chance of ever being a dog trainer.

Hope you enjoy it as much as I do!

Wednesday, May 30, 2012

Finding the Time to Write . . .

     Luckily for me I’m freelance, so I work from home. Sometimes this is really good, but like anything else it has its disadvantages. Like overseeing various repairs by engineers to household equipment (dishwashers, washing machines, ovens, showers etc.,) and keeping an eye on decorators, builders or anyone else who happens to be doing something to, or for, our house. Quote: ‘Well you’re there all day aren’t you?’ Hmmmm, yes I’m here, but I still have deadlines, just not the daily commute.
      My official day job is book cover design, and like any other freelance work, sometimes I’m busy and other times I’m not. The busy times are bonkers and I’m knee deep in my bonkers time at the moment. Freelancers are rarely given the same amount of time to design a cover as designers in-house are. Having worked in-house for years, I now look back and wonder how I filled my time with such long deadlines! Now it’s, ‘Here’s a new brief for four covers, can we see visuals next week?’
      When I’m merely ‘ticking over’ on the design side, I restrict myself to designing until 4.30pm, and then I write until 7.00pm. This works quite nicely, giving me a nice chunk of time to write before the family come home. Of course now I’m in the bonkers time of year, I’m designing all the time with no time to write much at all. (I think I managed half a page yesterday!) It also explains why this blog is a day late!
      Do I balance things? Yes I think so, kind of ... it’s not easy, but it wouldn’t be half as much fun if it was. I’m convinced I’d get writer’s block if I just wrote all day and there wasn’t a ‘day job’ at all.
      As a family we’re all pretty busy anyway, so it’s not unusual for us to be in different rooms of the house, each doing our own thing. Obviously it was much more difficult when my son was little, but now he’s all grown up and working for a television company in Central London, so his hours are strange too. It’s really funny listening to him complain about the Jubilee Line, signal failure and crowded trains. Been there. Done that.
      There are times when I would be happy to write on and on, late into the night, but my husband gets up really early and it wouldn’t be fair, so I have to make myself stop at a decent hour. That’s the biggest problem I have really, because then I start writing in my head, which then makes sleep impossible. But hey, in the grand scheme of things, it’s not a big problem.
      Fledgling has been published now for nine whole months. I can’t believe how the time has flown by. I still get a huge burst of pride when I see it on Amazon.

Friday, May 25, 2012

Research widens the plot

A continuing part of writing is doing research. An reviewer asked about the information I used in Ancient Awakening and I had to assure her that I had researched the facts I used. Building a novel takes more than one fact. I took information from many areas and used my imagination to recombine the ideas into my plots.
In my paranormal Ancient Awakening, I used the obsession with immortality to add layers to my villain’s character. The individual’s desire to live forever is recorded throughout history. 
Several decades ago, the world was amazed by the discovery in China of an immense grave site. Thousands of terra-cotta figures stood in ordered array.
Archeologists discovered that Emperor Ching Shi Hwang-Di spent his life hoping to avoid death. He commissioned doctors to concoct potions and sent ships out to sea in search of islands where immortals supposedly lived.
Fearful that his efforts might ultimately fail, he conscripted more than a half-million men to build a magnificent underground tomb. He had the tomb surrounded by over seven thousand life-size terracotta soldiers in military formation.
Upon the emperor's death, he ordered his living servants buried with him.
I was fascinated by his creation.
The idea of being immortal is common in fiction. In the ‘Lord of the Rings,’ Sauron is immortal.
Many fictitious characters are said to be immortal if they cannot die of old age, even though they can be killed through other means, such as injury. Achilles was such a character. He had only one place where he could be hurt and was ultimately killed.
Another example of this obsession is in the first know writings of man. Gilgamesh, the hero of ancient Mesopotamian mythology, searches for the magical plant or herb of immortality.  He provides one example of how stories use plants as symbols of life and of the healing power of nature. I used this idea in Ancient Blood. My hero searches for the way to use Wolf’s Bane to cure his curse.
Ancient Blood
Lily Alban escapes a murderous stalker, but his vicious attack leaves her with the ability to see auras. She finds safety in the tiny hamlet of Rhodes End where a stranger stands out like a red light. Try as she might to deny her growing desire for Cole, she seeks his help but soon discovers the man she loves is not a man at all.
Werewolf Cole Benedict resists his attraction to Lily. A botanist researching the healing herbs to find a cure for Lycanthropy, he’s determined to protect Lily from her stalker as well as himself even in human form, but instinct takes over when he changes to his inner beast.
Together they must use their extraordinary gifts to catch Lily’s stalker before he attacks again, but revealing their secrets to one another could destroy their growing love or save them both.

“Lily?” His strong hands gently cupped her shoulders.
“Don’t, please don’t.”
She pulled away, fully intending to flee. Her resistance shattered, and she turned into his embrace. It was too late to escape. Pressing against his strength, she wound her arms around his neck and pulled him closer. His erection prodded her stomach, and she moaned. A heavy groan filled his throat as he lifted her from her feet. He kicked the bag aside as he sat her on the counter.
“I can’t wait,” he growled. His flaring aura spiraled with colors she couldn’t name. She caught her breath. One hand burrowed through her hair, keeping her still as he stepped between her thighs. “You’re all I could think about all day.”
Clasping her bottom, he slid her to the edge of the counter. With his lips claiming her mouth, he unbuttoned her slacks, than lifted her slightly to push them down and off.
The cold surface only made her more aware of his scorching heat. His rough denim pants scraped her inner thighs in contrast with the silky hair under her palms. Her pulse leaped, and she gasped. His male scent mixed with hints of the wild forest filled her nostrils. When his fingertip explored the heated moisture gathering at her juncture, she tightened her thighs around his hips.
Barbara Edwards
The Wild Rose Press: Ancient Blood, a Black Rose
‘Like” Ancient Blood on my Facebook Bookpage!/pages/Ancient-Blood-by-Barbara-Edwards/122722171136047?sk=wall

Saturday, May 19, 2012

FOREVER FREED Turns One & is 99 Cents!

I'm so excited to celebrate the first publication anniversary of my debut novel, a vampire romance called Forever Freed! This book was the first I wrote and first I sold, and it remains very dear to my heart. And it's had a great year, too:
  • WON the NJRW Golden Leaf Award for Best Paranormal of 2011!
  • Finaled for the NJRW Golden Leaf Award for Best First Book of 2011!
  • Finaled in the GDRW Booksellers' Best Contest for Best Paranormal of 2012!
  • Finaled in the GDRW Booksellers' Best Contest for Best First Book of 2012!
  • Gothic Romance Amazon Bestseller!
With so much to celebrate, I'm throwing a party over at my blog complete with THREE prizes you can win. AND TWRP has put the book on sale for a limited time for just 99 Cents! That's such a steal for a 332-page award-winning vampire romance!

So, don't miss out on the party or the sale! Thanks for reading!

Laura Kaye

Tuesday, May 15, 2012

The Juggling Act of a Writing Mom

When I was working full-time (without children) my life was structured. I had a time mapped out for everything. Clear, written plans. A calendar with times and dates filled in, writing-time, work-time, fun-time. Now, not so much. I’ve learned to become flexible. A lot! Having kids is a full-time job in itself! Adding a day job and writing to that mix makes it all the more interesting. But, my passion for books continues. And I make room for it around my family. Since I’ve become a stay-at-home mom, I have several openings available to me throughout the day to fill my notebooks and computer files with my stories.

There is still a bit of structure to my day. I have about 30 minutes to an hour to write in the morning. I tried getting up earlier to have more time, but I swear my oldest son (6 y/o) is psychic. No matter how quiet I woke (no alarm clocks!) or how quietly I walked (I do have to visit the bathroom in the a.m.), within ten minutes he would wake and come see what I was doing. Then he would lecture me about how it was still night-time because the sun wasn’t out and I should be asleep. I’d like for him to take his own advice!

After I see him off to school, I spend about 2 hours cleaning the house or other morning chores. I move as quickly as possible since I’m not a big fan of housework (who is?), but if I don’t do it, it won’t get done. Then I have about 2 hours of writing time while my 2 younger children (4 y/o and 20 month-old) play. That is, I do what I can on my laptop while sitting in the living room and settling squabbles or disputes, suggesting silly games to entertain them or when they watch a little TV (I believe Sesame Street is educational and it gives me at least an hour!). This time is not always guaranteed. I might actually squeeze in only 10 minutes of writing or editing, but that’s 10 minutes I won’t have to do later. The rest of the day is a blur of kid-time activity, other household chores, running to the grocery stores or paying bills, and mealtimes until after they go to bed around 8pm. From 8-11pm I can devote undivided attention to my writing, or as much as I can until I fall asleep. Some days I don’t do too much at night simply because I’m tired from my day. Being a mother is exhausting!  

Of course, the school year is almost finished, and my writing schedule will have to re-adjust. As I’ve mentioned, having kids has made me learn to become flexible. But, I will continue simply because I can’t stop writing. I’m a writer. I’m determined to succeed. And the simple matter is that no matter what, we are all given the same 24 hours every day. If I can get only 15 minutes of that time spent on writing, I’m happy. That’s 15 minutes I won’t have to do tomorrow.

~Tricia Schneider writes paranormal and gothic romance while raising her 3 young children. Visit her at her website.

Tuesday, May 1, 2012

Happy Birthday TWRP!!!

Happy Birthday to TWRP! I love writing for TWRP. The editors are attentive, the higher ups actually answer your emails, and everyone is happy to help. It makes writing fun knowing I'll be working with such a great group. I've been with TWRP since 2008 when they accepted my short story for the Got Wolf? anthology. Two books later, I'm still with them and enjoying it. Here's to many more birthdays!!
Happy Birthday, TWRP. I can't believe I've been with you for two years. In June 2010, TWRP released my first book, a paranormal romance entitled Out of the Darkness. I've gone on to publish two historicals and I'm currently working on a sequel to OTD. And in that time, I might still be waiting to hear something from some other publishers. lol! But TWRP responds quickly to queries and the editors work well with both new and seasoned writers.

I think I've found my forever home here. TWRP rocks!

Happy 6th, TWRP!

I'd like to join in to offer Rhonda, RJ, Callie, and everyone at The Wild Rose Press a Happy 6th Birthday!

I can't help but have a special place in my heart for TWRP. Not only did they give me my first opportunity to publish, but it was my first novel to boot! If that wasn't exciting enough, FOREVER FREED is coming up on its one-year publication anniversary on May 20, which makes this celebration that much more special!

So grab a glass of champagne (or, ya know, blood, if you're a vampire) and a slice of chocolate cake, and celebrate! You deserve it, TWRP!

Thanks for reading!

  • Amazon Bestselling Gothic Romance
  • NJRW Golden Leaf Winner for Best Paranormal of 2011
  • NJRW Finalist for Best First Book of 2011 
A heart can break, even one that no longer beats.

I stalk my new neighbors, a single mother and her child, drawn by the irresistible scent of their joy and love. I crave their blood, starved for some healing respite from my ancient grief. Now to lure them into my grasp.

But they surprise me. Little Olivia accepts me without fear or reservation--talking, smiling, offering innocent affection that tugs at my long-lost humanity. Her mother, Samantha, seeks me out when she should stay away, offering sweet friendship, and calling to the forgotten man within me. They lure me instead.

Ah, Dio, Lucien, run and spare them while you can...

Celebration Time!

It’s nearly two years since I got my first Black Rose contract. Because of the time difference it was about 11pm here, and we were watching the Eurovision Song Contest, laughing at the truly awful songs, and the even worse outfits. I decided to shut my computer down for the night, and that’s when I discovered an email from Callie saying she loved my book. I read the email and then re-read it a few more times just to make sure I hadn’t had one glass of Shiraz too many. (I didn’t want to start whooping in case I’d made a mistake.) Later, of course, there was much whooping – and also more Shiraz – after we realised it was real, and so my journey in the garden began. I’ve only ever worked with editors as a cover designer, so working in the role of new author was a real learning curve. I learned so much from Callie, things that had never even occurred to me before. (Like using ‘which’ or ‘that’ too often ☺) But I’ve enjoyed everything from signing the contract, and working on the edits with Callie, to contributing to the monthly Black Rose blog. The Wild Rose Press is like a family, and I’m proud to be part of it. Congratulations, a very Happy Birthday, and huge thanks to everyone who works so hard to get our books out there. xxx
Hello All!!! And a very Happy Birthday to The Wild Rose Press from all of us in the darker side of the garden!! Namely, Black RoseJ

Today we celebrate six years of success here at the TWRP. We have climbed to heights beyond our wildest dreams in a mere six years.  And we have the infamous RJ Morris and Rhonda Penders to thank for this.

Congratulations, RJ and Rhonda! 

You deserve all the best as you celebrate the wonder of six years in the business of publishing fabulous stories by the most talented authors—new and seasoned. And a heartfelt thank you to all our very talented authors, for without you we would not be where we are now.  And last but not least – the editors. All our talented and knowledgeable editors who work so very hard at pulling the diamonds out of the rough to provide the very best stories for our readers to enjoy and lose themselves in.

Come pull up a stump or fallen log. Sit with us and enjoy some celebratory cake along with our special cider.  Actually, we here in Black Rose have two celebrations at hand.  Today is May Day as well! 

May Day is our Pagan Spring and May Pole celebration.
May Day began as an ancient pagan festival held to celebrate the return of warmth to the earth and the beginning of the growing season. The Druids of the British Isles called the celebration Beltane. Flickering flames rose toward the sky as a symbol of the sun. Farmers walked their cattle through the fires to purify the animals and bring good fortune to the coming year. (Holiday description borrowed from Lifescript a site for women and healthy living. For more information please visit site.)
It is celebrated by placing a festive floral basket on the doors of family, neighbors and friends. As well, dancing about the May Pole as illustrated above with the cute squirrel graphic, LOL I just thought it cuteJ
Anyway, I digress. Back to our birthday celebration!  I’d like to take a brief walk down memory lane and share a bit of my history here at the TWRP.  I do tend to ramble on at times but will make every effort to keep it short so Lill can share her memories.  We invite you to share yours as well.
Here goes:
I stumbled into the Rose Garden more than five and one half years ago. I had been working for an epublisher that handled mostly mystery, nonfiction, and SciFi so I was seeking employment that better fit my interest, which is as you all know dark paranormal.  I noticed a sidebar for employment opportunities and applied.  Rhonda called me a day or so later and Voila! I got the job—but not in my desired capacity. Yet. She assigned me to Champagne, and I spent my first six months with Roseann.  I enjoyed working with her and learned so very much, but my desire was Black Rose  We were still a new press in those days and there was no room in the darker side. So I made myself at home in Champagne, our contemporary line, which was and has always been one of the busiest lines. Need I tell you, I always had work:)
One day, out of the blue, Rhonda contacted me and asked if I would like to move into the Black Rose line and take the SENIOR EDITOR position. I was flabbergasted. And very frightened, to say the least. I’d only been with the TWRP a mere five to six months! I wasn’t qualified to take over a line, I thought to myself. No matter I’d been editing for over eight years. I was also a bit fearful. I didn’t want to let Rhonda down. I had no clue what to do in a senior capacity, but in the end, she talked me down. I took the position and still LOVE my job to this day.  I can’t say enough about TWRP and its people from management, editing staff, to all the various departments such as, art, readers, marketing. The Wild Rose Press is a dream job. And its staff, collectively, like family. Not much more to say than I continously count the blessings of having stepped into the garden all those years ago.
I’ve grown with the TWRP and am fortunate to have watched it grow.  We’ve seen many changes—some for the better, some not so. We’ve also said goodbye to many editors—some of which are still missed to this day, many who moved on for an abundance of reasons. But the key motivation seems to be treating all with compassion, love, and respect for the craft of writing.  We truly are the “the kinder, gentler publisher” and I for one am proud to be here.
Cheers, TWRP, Rhonda and RJ
And the entire staff!!!

Thank you all for sharing this special day with us. I will now turn the floor over to Lill Farrell. And I would like to say a special thank you to Lill for keeping our blog going. It is quite a responsibility to keep things fresh and interesting, and she does it so very well. Also thanks go out to all you who have a hand in posting to our blog. 

Oh, by the way, you will want to read what Lill has to say.  A little bat whispered in my ear that she has quite a few surprises up her sleeve.

Callie Lynn Wolfe
Senior Managing Editor
Black Rose Imprint, TWRP

Lill chiming in here with Happy Birthday Wishes for one-and-all. And a huge congrats to the amazing Rhonda and RJ!!! I hope everyone finds time to celebrate TWRP’s sixth birthday today. Writer, reader, editor, artist, blog follower all are part of TWRP’s success. We really do have a wonderful group here in the Garden, though of course I am partial to our dark corner.

I can’t even tell you how I ended up finding out about editing spots at TWRP. Four years ago I had just moved and was doing one of those long-winded internet searches that lead you from page to page until you forget where you started, and in a split second of good fortune stumbled upon a posting looking for editors. An email (or three) to Rhonda, a couple of phone calls later and there I was.

Like Callie, I started out in other departments (with my eye fixed on Black Rose). My first editing journey was with a wonderful little Faery story and then I too spent some time in Champagne with the wonderful Roseann. And like Callie I suddenly found myself with the opportunity to join Black Rose which was a dream come true. And that dream has only grown.

Callie is just amazing to work under and our authors keep me hopping with their amazing characters and plots. The talent within the Garden is truly awe-inspiring and with each new submission, I find myself transported to wonderful places filled with hot heroes and spicy heroines. In addition, I work with some of the most amazing, interesting, talented and wonderful people on the planet What more could a girl ask for?

So I invite you one and all to join in our Birthday Celebration.  Visit the blogs, stop by on Facebook, follow us on Twitter and leave a comment (or two).  Since you are all such a big part of what makes TWRP such a great success and a wonderful place to be, we are going to give YOU gifts!!!!  There will be 6 prizes given away with the grand prize being a KINDLE FIRE!!!!!  Having just gotten one myself I can tell you they are amazing!!!!  

Lill Farrell
Black Rose Editor
The Wild Rose Press