Lily Malone's Blog, page 21

I’ve been inspired by Ros Baxter and Lilliana Anderson and Cate Ellink in recent weeks, all of whom have shared some amazing short stories and excerpts on their blogs.

I’ve been kicking my own goals with my WIP, The Goodbye Ride. I’m about to share it with my critique partners, but I thought – what the heck – let’s share some with the world!

The Goodbye Ride. Lily Malone.

Chapter 1.

Olivia Murphy had brass in pocket. One thousand dollars’ worth of brass to be exact—all hers and all hard-earned. Technically, the money was in her handbag not her pocket, but Liv wasn’t about to split hairs. The sun—for the moment at least—was shining, she’d given herself the day off tomorrow, and her parents were in Melbourne. She had the house to herself for four whole days.

Bliss.

The Lang’s place wasn’t far—just another few hundred metres heading out of town along the Hahndorf main street. She couldn’t see the glint of red, not yet. There were too many hedges in the way, too many neat brush fences, and her prize was set back from the road. Luke’s bike. Her brother’s Ducati Pantah 650. The bike she was about to give Dean Lang ten thousand dollars to buy back.

Her chin rose. If there’s one oak leaf stain on that paintwork, Mr Lang, you better get ready to knock another few hundred dollars off your asking price.

Liv checked over her shoulder, just as she’d checked every thirty seconds since she’d left the bank carrying ten hundred-dollar notes crisply folded in a plastic bag. The odds of getting mugged in Hahndorf weren’t high, unless by a Japanese tourist who wanted a photo taken. But why tempt fate?

She quickened her pace.

Her handbag bumped her hip. Liv clutched it closed with her elbow and concentrated on where she put her shoes. Rotting autumn leaves made slimy passage underfoot and the pavement was a twisted rollercoaster of treacherous roots.

On the opposite side of the road, up ahead near the sixty sign, a bright red utility pulled to a stop. The driver braked hard enough to grind shining Mag wheels through the roadside slush.

Liv hated the vehicle on sight.

It was one of those big bristling testosterone-fuelled boy toys—one with more aerials than a radio station, mudflaps the size of a swamp, spotlights everywhere. A bull bar covered in RM Williams’ stickers snarled across the front.

Liv figured the driver must be heading up to camp in the backwaters of the Murray River for the Queen’s Birthday long weekend, some choice spot where he could shoot pigs and suck beers. He’d probably stopped to change CDs, throw One Hundred Best Beer Songs of All Time into the stacker.

“Neanderthal,” she muttered under her breath.

The driver-side door opened and two feet eased out. Two feet clad in thongs. Thongs! Liv pulled her scarf tighter at her throat. Didn’t he know it was June?

Those feet were attached to a muscular pair of legs in black cargo shorts, and from there to a ripped torso in a tee-shirt half a size too tight. A nun would go weak at the knees if she saw that chest and Liv was no nun—although there were times lately, it felt like it.

The driver shoved his sunglasses to the top of his head, checked left and right, and his weight edged forward.

Fear iced her spine.

The brute had parked opposite Dean Lang’s house—directly opposite the bike she’d come to buy—and now he zeroed in on her Ducati like a heat-seeking missile.

Dammit. Where was a Greyhound bus where you needed one? Not to hit him, mind. Just to slow him down. Okay, maybe wing him.

Liv missed her step, skidded on an ice-rink of acorns. Her legs slid like a new-born foal’s. It took a few seconds to regain her balance and in that time, the driver loped across the road and up the embankment. Liv lost him behind the neighbour’s hedge, but she was almost level with the Lang’s driveway now. Almost there.

Then the earth moved.

She had just enough time to thrust out her left hand before she hit the ground. Pain shot through her palm and it felt like a sledgehammer whacked her hip. Her handbag catapulted from her shoulder to the pavement, scattering lip-eze, a pack of chewing gum, and a mobile phone. Her precious plastic bag of cash skidded out late, like the last girl asked to the dance.

“Whoa! Are you okay? Hold on.”

Liv heard a flap, clap sound and thought for a second that some arsehole was applauding her fall. Dimly, she looked for the arsehole, wanting to give him a piece of her mind. She tried to push herself up and turn over but before she could achieve either goal, a muscled arm reached down and a dark shape blotted out the tangle of branches over her head. Her saviour’s bare arm cushioned her shoulders while his voice cajoled her to sit.

“You’re wearing thongs in the middle of winter.” It was all she could think of to say. Liv heard comfort and warmth in his chuckle before his arm again tried to propel her upright. “Give me a sec. My head’s spinning. I need to get my breath.”

“That was some fall.”

She examined her sore, scraped hands, aware of a damp spot spreading on the butt of her jeans. Somehow, she got her feet beneath her. “I’m fine. Thank you. Really.”

He picked up her handbag, lipstick and phone. Then she saw him reach for her money.

“I can manage,” she snapped, bending, stretching for the plastic bag.

The earth spun again. She ended up with her hands on her knees and her head at her thighs. His big knuckled fingers rubbed her back and at some stage, her pink wool beanie fell off and landed on top of his bare toe. That toe looked wild enough to crawl into the nearest cave and hibernate. Most male toes she’d seen in her twenty-four years didn’t look like that. Her brother, Luke, had forgotten more about pedicures than Liv had ever known.

Loss spiked her chest. Luke. 

Liv sucked two quick breaths and stood. She was here to buy Luke’s bike from Dean Lang, not think about pedicures or toes, or caves.

“Here,” the guy said gravely, picking up her cash and beanie, stuffing one in her handbag and the other over her head. Eyes the charcoal side of black seemed to click with hers and it was as if she heard a little voice inside her head sigh: Oh, hello. 

Olivia Murphy didn’t listen to little voices sigh. She was far too sensible for that.

###

Thanks for getting through my first 1000 words! I’m hoping to have The Goodbye Ride finished so I can release it for June. Off to the crit partners now and a second Beta read soon.

Please watch this space!

Lilliana Anderson self-published two books in what she’s called, The Beautiful series. A Beautiful Struggle and A Beautiful Forever. A Beautiful Forever is her current release and she’s head down, backside up, on a new novel, Alter, due out next month.

Lilliana and I clicked from the start. How can you not click when two people called Lily and Lilliana each release books with ‘beautiful’ in the title in the same launch month?

When I first ‘met’ Lilliana, A Beautiful Forever was ranking in the double digits for sales on Kindle, and it’s still sitting in the top 50 in the category ‘Coming Of Age’. Consider me uber-impressed! Did I mention she is a mum to four (yes, four) and wife?

Make that: Super-uber-impressed!

She is a fun personality who promotes author-love and ethics within self-publishing wherever she goes. Plus she is the first person I can turn to when I have a Facebook question, such as: How do you get a heart symbol? Answer < and the 3.

In short. Lilliana inspires me and it’s wonderful to have her as my guest today on my infrequent interview post: Left Field With Lily.

LM: Would you please share with us the opening paragraph of your current book or WIP, in at least two stages? 

First draft:

I’m standing in the Royal Botanic Gardens in Sydney, training one of my regular clients when I look up and see her, her movement is unmistakable. The two years I spent trying to get over her just fell away and I’m taken right back to where I was, wanting her, wishing I could touch her. There’s a pain in my chest when she looks at me and I see the recognition dawn on her.

Final version

Encouraging the sweaty, grunting man in front of me to tuck his knees closer to his chest as he does mountain climbers, I distractedly scan the people and the scenery in the Royal Botanic Gardens, Sydney, as I do every time I bring a client here.

LM: What is your greatest ‘lightbulb moment’ in terms of Writing Craft. 

LA: I had a big problem with show vs tell. I didn’t quite understand what it was I was doing wrong. Eventually one of my beta readers highlighted a section in the draft for this book and said – ‘Look! Right here. You’re telling me this – I want to see it’ and then it clicked. Hopefully I have the hang of it a bit better now!

LM: What keeps you awake at night?

LA: My three year old! LOL.

LM: If you could choose three items on the list below to take for a week camping in the Australian outback, which three would you pick? (You can assume there are magical batteries for anything requiring power).

ipod
kindle
your favourite paperback
your significant other
I will take my chances on there being a gorgeous girl, or gorgeous man (whichever the case may be) to help me pitch my tent
food I don’t have to catch first
wine
battery-powered Nespresso & endless supply of Pods (and George Clooney – no, that’s cheating – no George)
a torch in case the candles go out
moisturiser/cosmetics/hairbrush
change of clothes
mobile phone/internet connection for twitter & FB (definitely my mobile, because it has music, books, facebook, email, twitter – everything I’d want to stay entertained and connected)

LM: So food, wine & communication. You might be a bit ON the nose, but you’ll be IN the know… (baaad joke).

LM: My book (released in March with Escape Publishing) is called His Brand Of Beautiful. Can you tell me what you would describe as ‘your brand of beautiful’ – in terms of your current partner? 

LA: He’s actually sitting right next to me – so I’d better make this good in case he looks over! One thing I find beautiful about my husband is his thoughtfulness. He works in hospitality, and every Sunday he finishes work early and stops off at my favourite coffee shop to bring me a coffee so we can sit and talk for the afternoon.

A lot of the time he produces a piece of paper for me to read. He cuts out articles from the paper that I might like and sometimes he has an idea for a future book that he writes down for me.

For my birthday, he filled a book with story ideas for me to show me how supportive he was of my work.

So that’s what I find beautiful, he doesn’t do grand gestures, because he knows I don’t want that – it’s the little thoughtful things that really matter for me and keep me smiling.

LM: Awww…. he sounds wonderful!

LM: Can you tell me the best thing about A Beautiful Forever? Who would absolutely love it?

LA: Originally I wanted to call this book A Beautiful Redemption (I came across another book with the same name so I changed it) because Elliot, who is the character that I carried over from A Beautiful Struggle, really redeems himself in this one.

We see him come into his own in this book and fight for what he really wants.

Everyone who loved Elliot in A Beautiful Struggle will love this book and so will anyone who loves a good romance about a couple who won’t let anything get in their way. I wrote this book so it could be read on its own, you don’t have to have read the first book to enjoy this one.

LM: Can you share your favourite 250 words from A Beautiful Forever and tell us why they’re your favourite part?

LA: I have a couple of parts that I’d love to share, but they’d really ruin the story line. This is the ‘safest’ of my favourite parts in Elliot and Paige’s story. They are at a bed and breakfast on their last weekend together before Elliot has to fly back to Australia.

A Beautiful Forever is written in a dual point of view – this section is in Paige’s voice.

“I just want you to know that I’ve never been happier than when I’m with you. I want you to know that I – ”

“Don’t Elliot,” I say quickly, cutting him off. “Don’t say anything to make this harder. I’m staying and you’re going. Please don’t try and change that.”

“It doesn’t have to end when I go Paige, you could come with me – or I could come back – or you could come with me and then we both come back,” he argues regardless. “Don’t end this Paige, you know how I feel about you, even if you don’t want to hear it, and I’m pretty sure you feel the same way about me. We can do this Paige; we can do this anywhere you want, any country you want. I just want you.”

Tears are threatening to spill from my eyes as I pull my robe back over my shoulders and close it tightly around me. “Elliot, you can do so much better than me. Why are you pushing this?”

“Because I love you damn it!” he yells suddenly, his outburst scaring the shit out of me as he jumps off the bed and starts to pace the room. I sit there, trying not to cry as I watch him work through his emotions. When he stops and looks at me his eyes are shining as well. “Why won’t you tell me what makes you so sad? Why don’t you trust me enough to love you no matter what you may have done?”

If you’d like to find out more about Lilliana and her books, it’s easy.

Visit her website and blog

Find her on facebook or Goodreads or Twitter

Buy A Beautiful Forever at Amazon or Barnes & Noble or Kobo

A Beautiful Forever comes with a Mature Content Warning.

After ruining the best relationship he has ever had, Elliot’s life takes a turn for the worse and he isn’t happy with who he’s become.

Deciding to spend three months in the UK on a working visa, in a bid to find himself again, he boards a plane to London. During the flight he meets Paige, a fellow Aussie with a closed heart and a lot to hide.

The closer he gets to Paige the more he’s sure that she’s hiding something. Will it be enough to send him running? Or does he love her enough to fight this time?

This is Elliot’s story after A Beautiful Struggle, it can be read on it own but Lilliana says you will have better understanding of Elliot’s character if you meet him in book one first.

 

My books are Australian.

They should sound Australian? Shouldn’t they?

Lately I’ve been thinking about colloquialisms in my writing, because a wonderful Beta reader pointed them out, and I’ve realised I’m guilty of making quite a few.

For example from the opening scene of my WIP novella, The Goodbye Ride:

The name didn’t ring a bell.

Whatever he did for a crust.

“The rear shocks are shot to buggery.”

“You’re pulling my leg.”

I talk about “thongs” and “sneakers” and a “ute.” (Now everytime I see the word ‘thong’ I end up with a vision of Ali-G and his man-kini… see… it’s not pretty, is it!)

I’ve spent a lot of time around your average dinky-di blokes. This is how people I know talk. This is how my characters think, and talk, and they feel right when I write them. But what would an American reader make of my book? At what point does enjoyment of writing cease, because a reader needs to keep googling colloquialisms? Is this part of the reason I often hear that US readers tend to read US writers (more readily at least, than international authors unless they’re big names?)

I was lucky enough to have a lovely review for His Brand Of Beautiful from a writer and blogger in Florida, Victoria Pinder. She added some translation into her review, mentioning how the book begins with a “hen’s party”… (bachelorette party in the US). When I thanked Victoria for the translation, she said part of the enjoyment for her is reading in the local language. She wouldn’t have wanted to read an Australian-based book using American language or lingoism.

I had another funny experience on Saturday at Jennifer Crusie’s blog. It was an Easter conversation and in the comments, there were many mentions of “peeps.” Now to me, ‘peeps’ are Twitter followers and not much else, and as everyone was talking about cooking, microwaving and eating these ‘peeps’ – I asked the question: “What are peeps?”

I found out they are “little marshmallow chickens that are covered in some sort of spray dye and crystallized sugar.”

Eeewww. I kinda wished I hadn’t asked.

I then found out that in the US people make peeps into tableaux, and enter them into contests. One of the commenters even suggested some links! Seriously – check these out – they’re amazing!

http://www.washingtonpost.com/lifestyle/magazine/peeps

http://www.naplesnews.com/news/2013/mar/29/peeps-in-paradise-contest-entries-show-a-diverse/.

So in the end, I learned something and felt good about the process.

I think I can have my peep and it too. I’m going to be more aware of colloquialism in my writing and do what I can to remove some of it, especially when it really won’t matter if the line was written in another way. But where colloquialisms add to character, or setting, I think I’ll vote to keep it. And I’ll hope that my reader gets involved enough not to let it stop her flow. And in the best case scenario, perhaps she will get a sense of our great Aussie culture in the process.

Now that would be nice, peeps! What do you think?

I suck at it! But I’m learning…

Here’s the scenario. Two weeks ago I’m sitting in a doctor’s surgery for a regular glucose tolerance test. (For anyone not in the know, these take two hours and in that time you have to sit still and do nothing for the duration). For a working mother, permission to sit still for two hours and do nothing is BLISS…

I opened my book (at the time, The Chimney Sweeper’s Boy), and I had my Kindle on stand-by. I chose an unobtrusive seat, fluffed my feathers, and made myself comfortable.

Ten minutes into my ‘alone time’ the surgery receptionist sat by me (the surgery was empty) and said:

“What are you reading?”

I showed her the cover of the Chimney Sweeper’s Boy. “This.”

“Is it good?”

“It’s okay.”

“I don’t know what’s struck me lately, but I’m in a book-reading mood. Do you know of any good books?”

My heart starts beating faster. His Brand Of Beautiful. Tell her, His Brand Of Beautiful. “Well… what do you like to read?”

“Oh. Anything. I don’t know.”

His Brand Of Beautiful. Tell her, His Brand Of Beautiful. Tell her House For All Seasons. Tell her Under The Hood. Tell her Fast Forward. “If I think of something, I’ll let you know.”

Now – there will be those out there (Jenn J Mcleod, Juliet Madison) who all cringe on my behalf and say: WHAT A GOLDEN OPPORTUNITY!

I was way too shy to own up to having just written a book. Opportunity missed.

All this ‘promotion’ discussion reminds me of a line the real estate agent used when she was discussing the marketing program for selling our Hahndorf house. I wasn’t certain I wanted a sign out the front and she looked at me and said: “Lily… You can’t sell a secret.”

How those words have haunted me since my book launched in March. It’s hard to turn around a mind-set of not wanting anyone to know you’re writing… and turning that around to wanting everyone to know you’re writing.

Outside of Facebook friends, I’d hardly told anyone. Not friends. Not family.

And then of course, I suddenly want sales for my book. Because I’m serious about turning my writing into my second career. My 5 and 10-year goals are to increase the amount of income my writing can substitute from my ‘day job’… I’ll call my writing my own, personal, Self Managed Super Fund.

One month after my launch and my desire for sales is trumping any shyness I had.

Here’s some examples of my growth:

At the weekend, we had a family reunion. It would have been my granddad’s 100th birthday on Sunday (were he still alive) and my mother’s side of the family all got together at an Aunt’s farm for a big birthday shin-dig. Here, I actually ‘fessed up to having written a romance book, telling them my author name and the book title, and how they could buy it. (If they didn’t mind the heroine letting loose with the odd F-word and could handle steamy sex scenes and would still send me presents at Christmas.)

Yesterday, my boss told me she had asked the ladies in her bookclub if they’d be interested in me talking to them about e-publishing and my blog and my book… All these ladies know my family (particularly my father), and if you asked me a year ago whether I’d like this particular group to know I was writing, I would have said: “No Way Jose!!!”

This time around, I’m actually looking forward to it. Though they’re all on Pain Of Death not to breathe a word to my old man!

And finally.  I had a follow-up appointment at the Doctor’s surgery on Monday, getting the results of the tests from two weeks prior. This is how the conversation went:

“Hi Jane. Are you still in your book-reading phase?”

With a double-take that I’d remembered, Jane says: “Yes. Actually right now I’m reading Jim Stynes biography.”

“I have a couple of book names that I wrote down for you, if you’d like them?”

“Yes, please. That would be great.”

So I handed her my handwritten (because I’m not yet organised enough to get bookmarks or business cards or that sort of thing), notes with the names of: “His Brand Of Beautiful by Lily Malone”; “House For All Seasons by Jenn J McLeod”; “Under The Hood by Juanita Kees”; Fast Forward by Juliet Madison; “White Ginger by Susanne Bellamy” and “Fractured by Dawn Barker.”

You can’t sell a secret… It just took me a heck of a long time to realise this!

I have been trying really hard to ignore Amazon’s maths.

When His Brand Of Beautiful launched, I didn’t even know where one looked to find sales ranking data. Every time an author on Facebook posted: I’m Number 1 in skirt-wearing dryads who dance beneath the moon on Mondays, I thought: “great” or “brilliant”, and wondered how the heck they knew that.

Unfortunately, darn-you Amazon, you made it too easy.

I now know where one looks to find sales ranking data. One just needs to run one’s little blue-gray eyes south a tad on one’s book page and it’s listed right there. In bold. You can’t miss it.

And it changes regularly, enticing one to check, regularly.

His Brand Of Beautiful has been in the 100,000s, and it has been in the fifty-thousands. The best I think it has been is around 32,000.

When I first discovered that magical number and told my husband, he almost fell off his chair.

“Really? Thirty-two thousandth in all of Amazon? Are you sure? There must be millions of books on Amazon.”

I immediately went to water. “I’m not sure. Maybe thirty-two thousandth in contemporary romance or something like that.”

“Ahh,” he said, turning back to his paper. “That’s probably more like it.”

But I now know that the thirty-two thousandth WAS for all of Amazon, for Amazon Best Sellers Rank, paid in Kindle Store.

It’s fair to say that my enthusiasm for sales-rank checking has waned, just a tad, as the month has worn on. Yesterday, I didn’t check at all. Oh, okay. Once or twice I might have had a look. A mere glance.

Right now, I’m sitting at 98,376.

I have come to think that when you’re in the 50,000 to 100,000 ranking, little changes make a big difference. For example, my lovely sister-in-law during the week posted a link to His Brand Of Beautiful with a message to her Facebook friends about looking for it next time they wanted a good book.

Before she sent her message, I’d just checked Amazon and I was in the 110,000s. Two hours after that FB post, His Brand Of Beautiful sat in the mid 40,000s.

How can that be? Can a handful of book sales make such a huge difference between being 100s or 50s?? I think it must.

I’ve been reading a bit about Amazon’s algorithms… (must be the best alliteration in the universe that one); and in the end, all that maths defeats me. My brain shuts down.

I think I’ve come full circle in my debut author month. I think I’m back in more of a “let the numbers do what they will and write the next book” mode…

But then, that’s cheating too. Apparently there’s some magical “multiplier effect” that might come in to play when I publish another book… and another…

See? One cannot get away from Amazon’s maths. No matter how one might try!

I’ve been doing some very unscientific research into condoms in contemporary romances and thought I might as well throw it open on the blog and see what others think.

As writers, are we responsible for teaching/education about safe sex in our novels? Any novels, not just romance. When I think back to my favourite books, particularly all the John Sandford ‘Prey’ novels that I love for their lothario hero Lucas Davenport—until Sandford made him settle down with the woman of his dreams and get married—rarely (like almost never) do condoms get involved in sex scenes. And what about Bond? James Bond? No crinkling sound of foil wrappers in any Bond movie I’ve ever watched!

So here’s what I think. Condoms aren’t romantic to me. Neither, should I say, are STDs… please don’t get me wrong. But we’re writing for escapism surely, not realism? And when it comes to romance… I mean, how many of our plotlines are 200% realistic? Romance is about dreams and emotion and feelings and instincts and (insert dammit here) futzing about with a condom gets in the darn way. IMHO.

I have opened this as a discussion item on my Goodreads page, and I’ve fished around in a couple of forums that are mostly US-based. Out of 6 replies, only 1 says she looks for “escapism not realism” in books.

But, to a man (err, woman) every other comment said they find it “distracting” if the issue of condom use isn’t raised and/or doubt the intelligence of the hero/heroine if they don’t at least discuss the use of a condom, or their sexual health. So maybe I’m hugely out of touch!

Here’s a snapshot:

“I find it distracting if condoms aren’t mentioned in a scene, if not during than at least the morning after some mention of throwing out the wrappers. I like it when the couple discusses birth control and what steps they’re taking. I find it unrealistic in a contemporary romance when that discussion doesn’t take place or isn’t at least alluded to.”

“I also find it distracting if they’re not mentioned at all. As far as I’m concerned, condoms are a required part of sex (unless the hero and heroine are already in a long term relationship, I suppose)…not using a condom just seems rather idiotic in my mind.”

“Yes, I want to see condoms in contemporary romances. Not using condoms without any sort of discussion just seems dumb and irresponsible to me.”

“Lack of condom use doesn’t make me think the characters are less promiscuous and clean but rather stupid and dangerous… There’s no need to stop the action and give a Health Class presentation on the proper use of condoms. The crinkle of a wrapper before or after, a reach for supplies (purse, wallet, bed side draw), disposing of a condom after etc – would suffice.”

“I agree with everyone else. Writers can make it subtle –the heroine hearing the crinkle of a foil wrapper is popular — but if it’s not there, I get distracted and concerned. My biggest pet peeve is the 2 second “I’m clean” conversation that has also unfortunately become popular.”

“I find the condom mention and also all-clear of STD mention a huge distraction. Too much realism for me as I read to escape reality not see every gritty part of it.”

Where do you sit? Any erotica writers out there – how do you handle it? Do you write every sex scene in a book using a condom – because if we were in the 100% safe sex, unless we have two virgins going at it in erotica – we need a condom every time.

 

I’ve been offline for a while, waiting for Telstra to hook up our computer connection… (Did I mention I’d been waiting?)… Waiting. Waiting…

But! I finally had the chance to see a YouTube video that Escape Publishing (may they sell a gazillion books forever) made for His Brand Of Beautiful and I am so excited by it, I’m on cloud nine this afternoon.

If you’d like to, please check it out here

I love the way Haylee Kerrans (publishing manager with Escape) says: “Steamy moments”… I thought they were steamy too, but I’m biased!

Meanwhile, if you are yet to catch up with Escape’s author Love Story, it is coming to a close. By Friday, Laura and Cormac’s own steamy moment/sticky situation/ call it what you will, ends by hook or by crook. It’s been such great fun to be part of. Now all us authors are trying to name our story… I like: “Love In A Blue Towel”.

 

 

 

 

 

Have you caught up with the Harlequin Escape Artists’ collaboration, A Love Story?

It started on Valentine’s Day, so we’re more than halfway through. 30 Escape authors each write 200 words in a story that’s a bit like Chinese whispers meets Pass The Parcel.

Tomorrow, it’s my turn!

So far, our heroine: Laura, and our hero, Cormac, have discovered she’s arrived at the wrong apartment with dyed hair, on the run from her ex-fiance and gangsters trying to recover her stepfather’s debts. She’s been shot at (thanks to Caitlyn Nichols), she’s been handcuffed (thanks to Juliet Madison), and plans to Fremantle prison have appeared on the USB that Laura stole from her ex, Miles, (thanks to Juanita Kees).

Turns out, our gal is trying to blackmail Miles for the money she needs to repay the gangsters.

Cormac has spent most of the story to date, in a blue towel. That was, until Lee Christine got the towel off. When I met Cormac for Lily Malone’s instalment, he was down to a pair of black grundies (undies). Which, according to Louise Forster’s episode, our hero filled out to “perfection.”

They’ve been tortured and teased, he’s been driven half-mad with desire and anger over this red-haired bint who’s brought a whole lot of trouble to his doorstep, but at least thanks to Donna Maree Hanson and Jacqui Underdown, they’ve now had one hell of a snog.

That’s where I find them, coming down off that after-kiss high with “the taste of him still on Laura’s bottom lip” (beautifully described by Sandra Antonelli).

So, I decided to get Cormac dressed tomorrow! It’s taken all this time for our hero to find himself a pair of jeans. He will find some other items in his wardrobe as well.

Did I ever mention Jason Bourne is a hero of mine? (I must say – the Matt Damon variety more than the later JB, but that would be digressing).

Tune in to find out what I do with A Love Story tomorrow.

http://escapepublishingblog.wordpress.com/alovestory/

March 1, 2013.

R-Day…

No – nothing to do with R Patz.

It’s Release Day for me, my debut novel His Brand Of Beautiful officially launched into cyberspace today.

So has my world changed? No. It was a day that began like any other since the end of January. (I’m still gatecrashing at my sister’s place until next week).

My youngest son announced a chirpy Good Morning before 6am (eek!); and then it was all systems go. Breakfast for two boys, school for one. We had a chook escapade on the property today which required all hands on deck to round-up 14 hens and a rooster all hell-bent on escaping their coop. My eldest son is fascinated by all things chooks and I have a horrible sneaky suspicion that he may have been the little blighter that lifted the latch on their pen… (In his defence, I would add he has denied this vehemently).

Between school drop off at 9, and work that started at 10, I managed to duck upstairs to my borrowed (sister’s) computer and check Facebook… Lo and behold, I’m not the only person on the planet releasing a book today! Jenn McLeod has House For All Seasons out, and Juanita Kees has Under The Hood. There are Facebook events and invitations and emails and comments and likes and shares and… it’s like having a birthday, Christmas and a baby all in one. Something like that. Lots and lots of congratulations and good wishes. It’s invigorating!

So – some other interesting things about today. I’ve had heaps of views and visits to my website, certainly far more than normal. My visitor stats have passed the 2000 mark. I’m laying some of the kudos for this at the feet of The Age newspaper, and the Brisbane Times, who have both had articles about romance writing and romance reading on their online entertainment pages, and thanks to whatever lucky stars are flying around and looking out for me today, they have picked the His Brand Of Beautiful cover as an illustration for the story. Talk about wonderful publicity!

So tonight? I think it will be champagne… with oven-grilled fish (Birdseye variety), zucchini bake (my variety) and chips (probably McCain variety)… because this is a busy house and it’s a Friday and all of us (my sister and me) will be thinking: bugger cooking!

Happy Long Weekend (Labour day here in West Australia) and happy release day to all authors with a new book for release today. See AUTHOR!! It’s official – now I can say it!

And if you fancy a long weekend with a book called His Brand Of Beautiful: about a woman on a mission and a man who wants nothing to do with her (until he wants everything to do with her); and a book with truckloads of Aussie scenery and boatloads of Aussie wine… click here!

 

 

My debut book isn’t published yet (but it’s oh so close, hurry up March 1) and so far I think I’m doing a reasonable job of not stalking Goodreads and Amazon looking for reviews that have come from bloggers who have had access to an advance copy. (Your version of ‘reasonable’ however, may well differ from mine – just saying.)

I’ve always found people love to criticise. In my job in journalism and then communications, I’ve ghost-written more columns over the years than Casper. Usually when I’d ask whoever I was writing the column for to give me some article ideas, I’d get: “Oh, I’ll leave it up to you.”

Okay. Fine.

But the minute you put a proof or a draft in front of someone’s desk, man do they channel the mini-critic. Well, one woman I recall in particular (a lawyer) drove me crazy, put a written word on the page in front of her and all hell broke loose. Thankfully, she was in the minority.

It doesn’t matter if it’s words on a page, or paintings on a gallery wall, or a voice raised in song. Whatever a person does in life, once you put yourself out there, you open yourself to opinion and criticism. You have to suck it up. Take the good with the bad and above all, remember that you can’t please everyone.

I’m part of Susanne Bellamy’s All The World’s A Page blog this weekend and one of the questions Susanne asks is how I react to reviews (good and bad). I’ve only had three thus-far. 4 stars & two 3-star reviews. Only the 4-star reviewer chose to write an actual review and luckily, it was very nice.

“This was a very slow building story but I found myself completely captivated by the characters and plot right till the end. Both Tate and Christina have personal demons they must resolve in order to have any semblance of a loving relationship, watching this development was enthralling. Lily Malone paints an extremely colorful picture making His Brand of Beautiful jump off the pages.”

http://tometender.blogspot.com.au/2013/02/his-brand-of-beautiful-by-lily-malone.html

I will never forget this review!

But what if it sucked? What if she gave me one star and a figurative slap in the face with a wet tuna fish? I know I’d be down in the dumps.

I told Susanne Bellamy in my interview that what I hope to do is take the good with the bad, grow a thick skin. If there’s anything constructive in the bad review, take it on the chin, learn from it. AND MOVE ON!

There’s been a lot of private discussion about reviews in the Yahoo Groups I’m part of, with fellow Escape Artists (all published or soon to be published with Harlequin Escape).

Some of the best advice I’ve heard came from Rhian Cahill, she says:

“Here’s my advice. Ignore reviews. They’re not for you. They’re for readers who all have various tastes. What one reader doesn’t like another does. It’s like dinner time at my house, it doesn’t matter what I cook not everyone (8 of us) at the table will love it or even like it.

The best thing you can do for you, your writing and your career is to write the next book. So forget about the reviews (which are often written by people who are seeking their 15 mins of fame) and get writing!!

Liz Pelletier of Entangled Publishing has also written on this topic recently, and it all helps put a bad review in perspective. http://www.martinisandmanuscripts.com/bad-reviews/

So, four days from Publication Date and counting down, let’s see how long my peaceful attitude about reviews will last!