Pamela Clare's Blog, page 17

Sorry I’ve been away so long! I left you stuck with that shackling scene forever. Not deliberate, I assure you. I find it very hard to keep the flow of my story in mind when I'm doing other things. I’ve spent the past couple of weeks realizing I need to rework aspects of Striking Distance, freaking out over that realization, and then getting down to work.

This time, I really had to pull out all the stops to figure out what I needed to change, even hanging a clothesline across my living room and putting note cards on it with clothes pins.


I finally came to grips with the situation, went back to Chapter 1 — yes, Chapter 1 — and included an element of backstory I hadn’t wanted to include because it was just too emotional. It took an email from a friend who independently came up with the same backstory element and suggested I consider it — to which I replied “NO!” — for me to realize that this just had to be the way it was.

Now I’m back up to Chapter 3. And when is this book due? Now?

But in the midst of this, I got an email from my wonderful editor sharing with me the art for the reissue of Ride the Fire, which may be my best book of all time. Everything about that story was inspired, every moment on the page clear. I wrote it in five months while working full time — close to a record for me. And when I was done, I was so devastated by the emotional toll of the story that I could do nothing but cry for six weeks. I was a hot mess.

Ride the Fire has been out of print since I got the rights to the story back from Dorchester, which originally published it in 2005. This version will include the as-yet-unwritten epilogue, as well as some tweaks to bring it into alignment with the author’s cut of Carnal Gift. If you remember, Dorchester cut 100 pages out of Carnal Gift to make it fit the company's maximum page count. It broke my heart and really hurt the story. It also made me revise Ride the Fire before I was even finished with it. When I self-published Carnal Gift, I restored those pages, but that meant that Ride the Fire was now out of sync.

When this version of Ride the Fire is released in February 2013, the Kenleigh-Blakewell trilogy will be as I intended it to be. The first two books are available as ebooks. Ride the Fire is being published by Berkley so it will be in both print and ebook format.

So how about an excerpt from Ride the Fire?

Here’s when Nicholas met Bethie....



Elspeth Stewart woke with a start, heart racing.              The geese!            She rose as quickly as she could, grabbed the rifle, which sat, primed and ready, next to the bed.            If it was the same vixen that had harried them yesterday, she would shoot, and this time she wouldn’t miss.  And if it were Indians or renegade soldiers?            Her mouth went dry.            Quickly, quietly she crossed the wooden floor of the cabin that was her home, lifted the heavy bar from the door and slowly opened it, dread like ice in her veins.  Outside it was still dark, the first light of dawn only a hint in the eastern sky.  She peered past the door toward the poultry pens and saw a small honey-colored fox dart into the underbrush.             In a warm rush of relief, Elspeth stepped quickly onto the porch, raised the rifle, cocked it, fired.  A yelp, followed by silence, told her she had hit her mark.  She stepped back inside long enough to put down the rifle, put on her cloak and slip into her boots — she had taken to sleeping fully clothed since Andrew’s death, but that didn’t include boots — before going outside to see what damage had been done. The vixen lay dead in the bushes.  Its teats were swollen with milk, and Elspeth felt an unexpected pang of empathy with the dead animal.  It had only been trying to eat so that it could feed its new litter of kits.  She pressed a hand protectively to her rounded belly.  In a few weeks, a month at most, she would be doing the same.  Which is why she needed to protect the geese and chickens, she thought, brushing aside her sentimental response. She squatted down, picked the vixen up by its tail and carried it away.  She didn’t want the smell to attract bears or wolves. When she returned, the geese were still honking and flapping angrily about, but there were no bloody wings, no broken feathers that she could see.  Andrew’s fence had held.“Quit your flaffin’!” she scolded.  She wasn’t truly angry with them.  Geese were better than dogs when it came to alerting their masters to danger.  Her life — and that of her unborn baby — might well depend on them one day.            As it was so close to dawn and she’d be getting up soon anyway, Elspeth decided to start her morning chores.  She fed the geese and chickens, gathered the few eggs that had been laid and set off to the cowshed for the morning milking.  By the time the animals had been fed and Rona and Rosa, her two mares, had been led out into the paddock, the sun had risen behind a heavy blanket of clouds, and the air smelled of lingering winter.            She drew water from the well and carried it inside to heat for washing and for her morning porridge.  She had just stepped through the door, when she saw the fire had died down to embers and needed wood.  But there was no firewood stacked in the corner.  And then she remembered.            She hadn’t had time to split more wood for the fire yesterday and had been so tired after supper that she had fallen asleep at the table, leaving the chore undone.            Her stomach growled.             “Well, Bethie, you cannae be expectin’ the wood to chop itself.”  She lifted the heavy water bucket onto the table, took the ax from its resting place beside the fire, went back out into the chilly morning.            The woodpile stood on the west side of the house, and it was dwindling.  She hadn’t worked out how she was going to fell trees by herself; that was a problem for another day.  She awkwardly lifted a large piece of wood onto an old stump, hoisted the ax and swung.  The ax cut halfway through the wood, stuck.  She pried it loose, swung again.  The wood flew into two pieces.            In the two months since Andrew’s passing, she had gotten better at chopping firewood.  She no longer missed and sometimes even managed to split the wood with one blow as Andrew had done.  Still, it was an exhausting chore, one she did not enjoy.             How long could she last out here alone?  The question leapt, unbidden and unwelcome, into her mind.  It was followed by another.Where could she go?            She lifted another piece of wood onto the stump, stepped back, swung and soon found herself in a rhythm.            Perhaps after the baby was born she could go to Fort Pitt or one of the other forts and find work there.  At least she and the baby would be safe from Indians and wild animals.  But would there be other women?  Would they be safe from the soldiers?Perhaps she could journey to Harrisburg or even to Philadelphia.  But that meant traveling for weeks alone through wild country, across the mountains, over rivers and through farmsteads.  The very idea of swimming across rivers with her baby or sleeping in a bedroll in the open without the protection of four sturdy walls terrified her.             One thing was certain: She could not go home.Nor could she stay here forever.  She’d managed well enough so far, but what would she do when it came time to plant crops?  Could she manage the plough?  And what of the harvest?  Could she care for her baby, harvest the crops, slaughter the hogs, make cider and salt the meat all at the same time?  Her days had been full and long when Andrew had yet lived.  How could she manage to do both his chores and hers with a newborn?And what would she do when her time came?She’d never given birth before, never seen a baby born.  And though she’d helped cows to calve, she knew having babies was different for women.  Would she know what to do?  Would both she and her baby survive the travail?And then there was the threat of Indians and others who prowled the frontier.  Few families had escaped unscathed during this war.  Men, women and children had been butchered like cattle — shot or burned alive and scalped by Indians fighting for the French.  A family only a few miles to the north had been attacked at midday while working in their fields.  The oldest sons had been killed and scalped, the daughters and younger boys kidnapped.  They’d found the oldest daughter several miles away a few days later.  She’d been tied to a tree, her body consumed first by fire, then by wild animals.            Of course, Indians weren’t the only two-legged danger.  Criminals flocked to the frontier, eager to escape the gallows.  Deserters, too, hid in the forests, both French and English.  Everyone knew of the family near Paxton that had welcome two travelers to sleep before their hearth one evening, only to be murdered in their beds.Andrew had done his best to protect her from these dangers.  But he had died just after Christmas of a lingering fever.  Although Bethie had tried everything she knew to save him — every poultice, every herb, every draught — he was not a young man and had died one night in his sleep while she sat beside him and held his hand.  Already in her seventh month, she had barely managed to dig a shallow grave for him in the frozen earth.She hadn’t had a night’s sleep since, waking to every sound with her heart in her throat. There was one other possibility, of course, one she almost refused to consider.  She could try to find another husband.  After the baby was born, she could ride to the nearest settlement, visit the church or meetinghouse and tell the minister that she was widowed and needed to find a husband.  But would they help her?  Would any man want both her and her child?  And if she did find a husband, would she regret it?Her mother, widowed when Bethie’s father was killed by a falling log, had found Malcolm Sorley in much the same way.  A big man with a dour temperament and fists like hams, he’d moved with his bully of a son, Richard, into the cabin that had once been a happy home and had done his best to beat the fear of God into his new wife and stepdaughter.  Bethie had done her best to avoid the rages of her new father, but Malcolm Sorley had left his share of welts and bruises on her.  Then he had turned her mother against her.Richard had done far worse.And while a husband brought protection, marriage brought duties that pleased her not at all.  She had no desire to lay beneath a man, to feel him touch her, to feel him inside her.  If she could devise it, she would be content to live as a widow for the rest of her life.And so Bethie arrived at the same stalemate she always came to whenever she allowed herself to think of the days ahead.  There was no place for her to go and no way she could safely stay. Coming to the frontier had been Andrew’s idea, not hers.  And though he had been kind to her and had taken her from a living hell, she found herself feeling angry with him for deserting her and her baby to this life of fear and doubt.She rested the ax on the ground, out of breath, her arms and lower back aching, glad to find a good stack of wood already piled on the ground beside her.  It was enough to last her the rest of the day and the night, but she would need to chop more this afternoon if she didn’t want to be in the same state tomorrow morning.            She rubbed a soothing hand over her belly, felt her baby kick within her.  Then she squatted down and picked up as many pieces as she could carry.  She stepped around to the front of the cabin, her arms full, and froze, a scream trapped in her throat.            A man on horseback.
 He sat on a great chestnut stallion only a few feet away from the cabin’s door, stared down at her through cold eyes, pistol in hand.
The firewood fell from her arms forgotten.  She glanced wildly about for the rifle, realized the she had left it inside the cabin.  A deadly mistake?She forced herself to meet his gaze, tried to hide her fear, the frantic thrum of her heartbeat a deafening roar.            Where had he come from?  Why hadn’t she heard him?  And the geese — why had they made no sound?            He was an Indian.  He must be to have crept up on her so quietly.  Dressed in animal hides with long black hair and sun-browned skin, he certainly looked like an Indian.  But his eyes were icy and blue as a mountain lake, and most of his face was covered with a thick, black beard.            Heart pounding a sickening rhythm in her chest, she swallowed, pressed her hands protectively to her belly.  “M-my husband will be back soon.”            “Your husband?”  His accent was distinctly English and cultured, his voice deep.  He smiled, a mocking sort of smile.  “Is he the poor fellow buried out back?  Aye, I’ve already met him.”            The man started to dismount.  “Nay!”  Close to panic, Bethie wasn’t sure where her words came from.  “Stay on your horse, and ride away from here!  I am no’ wantin’ for means to protect myself!”He climbed slowly from the saddle, his gaze dropping from her face to her swollen belly, a look of what could only be amusement in his eyes.  “I’ll keep that in mind.”It was then she saw the blood.  His hands were stained with it.Her heart beat like a hammer against her breast, and for one wrenching moment, she knew he was going to kill her.  Or worse.  If only she had the rifle!  If only she could get inside the cabin, bar the door.  But he stood between her and refuge.  She took several steps backwards, was about to run into the darkness of the forest, when he sagged against his horse.Blood.  It had soaked through the leather of his leggings on the right side, darkened the back of his right leg all the way to his moccasin.  Was it his blood?  Aye, it must be.  He had tied a cloth around his upper thigh to staunch the flow. He was injured, weak, perhaps nigh to collapse.  Some part of her realized this, saw it as the chance she needed.She ran, a desperate dash toward the cabin door, toward safety, toward life.  She had only a few steps to go when arms strong as steel shot out, imprisoned her.  “Oh, no, you don’t!”“Nay!”  She screamed, kicked, hit, fought to free herself through a rising sense of terror. “Ouch!  Damn it, woman!”The click of a pistol cock.  The cold press of its barrel against her temple.She froze, a terrified whimper in her throat.His breath was hot on her cheek.  “I have no desire to harm you or the child you carry, but you will help me, whether you wish to or not!  Do you understand?”She nodded, her mind numb with fright.Pistol still in hand, he forced her to hold the stallion’s reins while he unsaddled it and carried its burdens inside the cabin.  Then he watched as she led the animal to a stall in the barn, settled it with hay and fresh water from the well.  And although she had hoped he might fall unconscious, he showed no further sign of pain or weakness apart from a bad limp.“Get inside, and boil water.” She crossed the distance from the barn to the cabin, her stomach knotted with fear, the heat of his gaze boring into her back.  Then she saw the firewood scattered on the ground.  She stopped, turned to him, half afraid to speak lest she provoke his ire.  She had no doubt this man was capable of killing.  “I-I’ll need the wood.”Blue eyes, hard and cold as slate, met hers.  He nodded — one stiff jerk of his head.She eased her way down, began to fill her arms.Nicholas watched the woman pick up firewood.  She had no idea how close she had come to escaping him moments ago on her doorstep.  Dizzy from blood loss, he had found it surprisingly difficult to subdue her, had been forced to wield the threat of his pistol.  He could not risk getting close enough for her to knock it from his grasp.  He was fast fading, and without the weapon he would not long be able to bend her to his will.  He had no doubt that if given the choice she would leave him out here to die, even kill him herself.He didn’t blame her.  There was only one rule on the frontier — survival.  A woman without male protection could not be too careful, particularly a young and pretty one.  And even heavy with child, she was a beauty. How old was she?  Nicholas guessed eighteen.  Her cheeks were pink from exertion, her skin flawless and kissed by the sun.  A thick braid of sun-streaked honey-blonde hair hung down her back to her waist.  Her curves, enhanced by her pregnancy, were soft, womanly and easily apparent despite the plainness of her grey woolen gown.  And although she was great with child, she had felt small in his arms.  Her head just touched his shoulder.He looked on as she struggled to stand.  Though she was obviously very near her time, she was surprisingly graceful and was soon back on her feet and walking toward the cabin, arms full, her braid swaying against the grey wool of her cloak with each step.Nicholas followed, but even this small effort left him breathless.  His heart hammered in his chest, fought to pump blood no longer in his body.  The Frenchman’s blade had gone deep, and while it had failed to sever his tendons and drop him to the ground as the bastard had no doubt hoped, it had clearly cut into a major blood vessel. He’d left Fort Detroit early in the morning almost a week ago, having earned more than enough from his pelts to replenish his supplies.  He’d traveled south for most of four days before he got the feeling he was being followed.  The signs were subtle — the twitching of Zeus’ ears, the cry of a raven startled from its perch somewhere behind him, a prickling on the back of his neck.  He’d urged Zeus to a faster pace, kept up his guard, hadn’t stopped to rest or eat until well past nightfall.  They attacked just after midnight.  The first sprang at him out of the darkness and might have succeeded in killing him had Nicholas not been awake and waiting.  And while he’d grappled with the first, the second had leapt from hiding to deal a surprise deathblow.  Nicholas had quickly dispatched the first attacker, but the second managed to slash his thigh before he had buried his knife in the man’s belly.  He’d recognized them both from the fort — French trappers who weren’t ready to relinquish the Ohio Valley to the English.Nicholas had realized immediately he was badly hurt.  He’d have treated the wound himself had he been able to see it and reach it with ease.  Instead, he’d tied a tourniquet around his leg and had reluctantly ridden through the night hoping to cross some farmstead where aid might be available.  As he’d grown weaker, he’d all but resigned himself to death.  He was already dead inside.  What did it matter if his body died, too?  Wasn’t that what he’d secretly been searching for all these years?  But just before dawn, he’d heard a gunshot to the east and had followed it until he’d heard the sound of someone chopping wood.  He hadn’t expected it to be a woman, much less a woman alone.  He hadn’t asked a soul for help in more than six years.  It galled him to have to do so now.  He followed the woman inside.  “Build up the fire.”The cabin was small with a puncheon floor that looked as if it had been newly washed.  The only light came from a small window covered with greased parchment.  A rough-hewn table sat in the center of the room, a hand-carved bedstead against the far right wall.  In the far left corner on the other side of the fireplace sat a cupboard and before it a loom, a spinning wheel, and a rocking chair.  Dried onions, herbs and flowers hung from the rafters, a feminine touch that for one startling moment reminded him of the cookhouse on his plantation.  A rifle leaned against the wall beside the door.Nicholas checked the rifle to make certain it was not primed and loaded.  Next he removed his buffalo-hide coat and his jacket, tossed them over one of the wooden chairs.Black spots danced before his eyes.  He pulled out another chair, sat, watched as she stirred the fire to life and poured water into the kettle to boil.  “You’ll need thread and a strong needle.”She started at the sound of his voice.  She was terrified of him, he knew.  He could taste her fear, smell it, see it in the way she moved.Smart woman.(c) copyright 2005, 2012 Pamela Clare

Happy Monday!
This week is going to be a busy one. In addition to having a wicked writing deadline for Striking Distance, the next I-Team novel, I’m flying to Anaheim for the Romance Writers of America conference being held there July 25-28. It was a last-minute decision based largely on the fact that it gives me a chance to meet face to face with both my editor and my agent — and a chance to meet several of my readers who live in that area. I’m very excited about it!

I registered too late to participate in the big literacy signing that runs from 5 to 8 p.m. at the Anaheim Marriott, but I will be there with Defiant trading cards that I can sign for readers. So if you’re planning on attending, please look for me there!

I’ll be signing these at RWA.
I thought it might be fun to play a little game with excerpts just for fun. I can pick a sexy excerpt from anything I’ve written, and you can try to guess what it’s from. I won’t give any clues, and names will be deleted from the scene. I’ve been posting little sexcerpts on my Facebook page, and readers seem to be enjoying them.

So, without further ado, here’s this snippet, written long before anyone heard of Fifty Shades of anything...



She smoothed her skirts and looked around the room one last time. He’d arrive any minute. The candles on her bedside table cast a warm glow over the room. The covers of her bed were already turned down. In the middle of the bed lay the only pair of shackles she’d been able to find on the plantation. Though old and unused for years, they still worked. The key hung on a silken cord between her breasts. 
The creaking of footfalls on the stairs told her he had come. She smoothed her skirts nervously, her heart pounding. Could she really do this? She felt herself start to smile, but forced it away. A quiet knock came at the door. The handle turned. He stepped in and turned to close the door. He looked so handsome, dressed in a clean linen shirt and breeches. She had to fight the urge to rush forward and fall into his arms. 
He turned toward her, staring. “You look beauti—” 
“You’re on time, convict.” It took every ounce of determination she had not to smile or giggle. “That’s good. It will go easier on you.” 
She could see in his eyes the moment he understood her game. His look of confusion was replaced by surprise and then amusement before his gaze grew cold and hard. “I’m to be punished, then?” 
“I can no longer tolerate your insolence, convict. I mean to teach you a lesson.” It was good she had rehearsed her lines. It would have been impossible to say them else. Was she really going through with this? 
He leaned against her bedpost nonchalantly, crossing his arms. Defiant and confident, he reminded her so much of the man he’d been when she’d first purchased his indenture. “And what makes you think I’ll cooperate, Mistress, when I could just as easily break your pretty neck?” 
“You’ll find what I have in mind far more pleasant than what you’ll receive if you disobey.” 
“I see.” His gaze raked over her body in blatant sexual appraisal, and she shivered in anticipation. “And just what do you have in mind?”   “Undress—slowly.” 
He raised an eyebrow, then untied his shirt and slowly pulled it over his head. It fell, forgotten, at his feet. Candlelight cast the bronzed muscles of his arms, chest, and abdomen in glorious high relief. He reached for the opening of his breeches and began to untie them, his muscles shifting beneath sun-bronzed skin.
She felt desire flow like warm brandy through her veins. “Slowly, convict.” 
His gaze locked with hers again as ever so slowly he pulled on the ties, undid his breeches, and let them drop to the floor. He was rock hard, his sex thick and heavy. 
She found she could scarcely breathe. “Your hair. Remove the thong.” 
Not breaking eye contact, he reached back with one hand, and his dark hair slid free, falling just below his shoulders. He looked untamed, fiercely male, and, with his lash scars, not a little dangerous. He stepped toward her. 
She stepped back and pointed to the bed. “Stop! The shackles. Lock one end around your right wrist, then pass the chain behind the bedpost, lie down, and lock the other end around your left wrist.” 
He looked at the bed and saw the shackles. She heard his quick intake of breath and saw a shadow pass over his face. Then it was gone. 
“Don’t you trust me, fair mistress?” His voice was dark as sin and soft as velvet. His eyes held the allure of every man who’d ever tried to beguile a woman into a false sense of sexual safety. 
“Never.” She smiled and spoke in a rich, seductive voice she didn’t know she had. “But I will have your complete cooperation.” 
“I see.” Naked, he walked to the bed, picked up the shackles, and closed one end around his right wrist. It locked with a click. He sat and moved backward across the bed, then reached behind his head and passed the chain behind one of the bedposts. “What makes you think these chains will protect you?” 
“Do it, convict.” 
He lay down, then reached back to cuff his left wrist. Click. He lay diagonally across the bed, completely vulnerable. His arms were stretched over his head. His chest rose and fell with each breath. His rigid sex stood defiantly against his abdomen. His legs, spread slightly, stretched the length of the bed, his feet hanging just over the edge. A tremor passed from her belly to her sex. 
His gaze, cold and menacing, bored through her. “Do you like what you see?” 
“Aye, convict. And it’s good for you that I do.” Almost trembling with excitement, she loosened her bodice until her breasts were visible. Then she moved to the bed and began to caress him, first his feet, then his ankles and calves. Where her hands touched, her lips and tongue soon followed. She heard his breath quicken, felt his muscles tense, and reveled in his response. She worked her way up his muscular legs and over his powerful thighs, but, although she touched the sac that carried his seed, she did not touch his shaft. “You’ve a remarkable cock, convict.”   He groaned in frustration. The chains caught on the bedpost, clinking as he strained against them. “Is this to be my punishment then? To be tortured with kisses, soft hands and words?” 
Some part of her she’d never known awoke within her, and she felt herself grow more daring. Like a cat toying with its prey, she stretched across the bed beside him. She ran her fingers teasingly on his abdomen, outlining his erection. 
“Your punishment is that you shall see, but you shall not touch. You shall want, but you shall not receive—not until it pleases me.” 
He groaned again, and she kissed his chest. Her tongue found his flat, brown nipples, and she licked and teased them. Her fingers savored the soft skin and hair of his chest, felt the firm planes and ridges of his muscles. Everything about him was intoxicating—the feel of him, his manly smell, the way his muscles tensed beneath her touch. To have him in her power like this was the most intoxicating thing of all, a heady elixir that heightened her senses and her hunger. 
She kissed a path along the valley that ran down the center of his belly, then took his shaft in her hand. She’d learned a few things about pleasuring him since the first time she’d tasted him, and she was going to put them all to good use. Holding him firmly with one hand, she began to tease the head with her tongue, tracing swirling shapes over, around, and under. Then she took him into her mouth and began to move her mouth and hand together up and down his length, laving him with her tongue all the while. 
“Sweet Jesus!” His eyes were closed, his brow furrowed. His hands gripped the chains that held him fast. His hips matched her rhythm, and she could tell his climax was near. 
She stopped, fondled his sac, and let his passion cool. 
“Christ!” His voice was ragged with arousal. 
She found herself battling to control her own flaming desire. She’d never been in control before, and the thrill of it was like a powerful wine coursing through her blood. She wanted him inside her, but she could not, would not let herself have him—not yet. She ravished him with her mouth and tongue again and again, taking him to the brink, then stopping. His entire body was taut with unspent passion, and the sounds that came from his throat told her he was as desperate as she. Unable to bear it longer, she lifted her gown and straddled him. She saw his pupils dilate when he felt his skin touch her bare thighs and bottom. 
His gaze devoured her. “I want to touch your breasts.” 
She opened her bodice more, lifted her breasts so that he could see them, and circled her nipples with her thumbs. “No.” 
His eyes held hot fury and lust. He jerked on his bonds, the muscles of his arms and chest straining, but the chains held fast. “You are cruel.” 
“But not heartless. I want your cock inside me now. That ought to please you.” She rested her hands on his chest to balance her weight, then lifted her hips and carefully guided him inside her. 
They moaned almost in unison as their bodies joined. She rode him, grinding against him to pleasure herself. Though she knew it would not be enough to bring him to climax, it was everything she needed. With him thick and hard deep inside her, she quickly felt her peak near and let it wash gloriously over her as her sheath contracted around him. 
Her cries of pleasure mixed with his tortured groans, and she knew his anguish was real. She would have to end this game, or at least give him his reward for playing along so nobly. 
“Have you learned your lesson, convict?” She reached between her breasts for the key and dangled it before him. 
Then a hand clamped over her mouth, and, in a whirl of motion, she found herself facedown on the bed, one arm bent behind her back. 
“I tried to warn you, mistress.” His voice was harsh. “You should never ask a felon to lock himself up. He might not be trustworthy. Scream, and it will be the last sound you make. Do you understand?” 
Coming soon:
MacKinnon’s Rangers trivia
Interviews with Eileen Hannay and Gary Zaboly, experts on Colonial Rangers
An urban farming update

Thanks to everyone who made the release of Defiant so special. There’s been an incredible buzz around the book, and your excitement, your reviews, and your word-of-mouth recommendations for the book are responsible for that. Thank you!

Some quick Defiant news:

All About Romance gave Defiant a fantastic review with Desert Island Keeper honors. Click here to read that review.

For those of you who’ve read the book and want to be part of an ongoing chapter-by-chapter discussion, come join the closed Defiant discussion group on Facebook.

And, yes, Joseph will get his own story. That’s the question I’m being asked most frequently in emails these days.

Some quick travel news:

I will be attending the Romance Writers of America conference in Anaheim, Calif., July 25-28. I signed up too late to participate in the big public literacy signing on July 25, but I will be there with romance trading cards from Defiant to sign and share. If you’re in the area, please stop in, find me, and say hello. I am looking forward to face-to-face meetings with my agent, my editor and good friends: Jill Shalvis, Julie James, Marie Force, Joyce Lamb, Jenn LeBlanc and others.

Bar tenders, prepare yourselves.

But back to books...

I’ve gotten a start on the next I-Team #6, which is titled Striking Distance. I’m under an extreme deadline crunch, which means I won’t be online nearly as much as I have been until the book is finished. I’m behind on reader emails, and I doubt I’m going to catch up. So sorry about that! Please know, however, that I do read everything you send me.

So what’s Striking Distance about?



It tells the story of SWO Chief Petty Officer Javier “Cobra” Corbray, an active-duty SEAL, and Laura Nilsson, a popular broadcast journalist nicknamed The Baghdad Babe by troops. Laura was taken hostage by terrorists while reporting in Pakistan and is dead. Or so the State Department thinks. When Corbray discovers during an op that she is very much alive and has been held prisoner for the past year and a half, he puts his life on the line to rescue her.

That’s how Javier and Laura meet.

From there, the story takes place back in Denver and revolves around Laura putting her life back together after 18 months of being a prisoner. I won’t tell you how Javier and Laura are reunited, but it was fun for me to write. The suspense thread of the story explores the circumstances of Laura’s abduction. Was it her own fault? Was it a random act of violence against a journalist? Or was she betrayed? Most importantly, who is trying to kill her?

It’s my first time writing an active-duty military hero, and so far doing the research for that has been a lot of fun and very interesting. For the prologue where we actually see Javier on a mission in full combat mode, I had to use a vocabulary that is completely new to me. As someone who sees words as toys, I found it refreshing and exciting.

Yes, some of us get our kicks in weird ways. Don’t judge.


As I’m writing, I see actor Jon Huertas as Javier — a man of mixed descent, including Puerto Rican (Taino Indian and Spanish), Scottish, African American and Cherokee. Laura is a dual citizen of Sweden and the United States — my first heroine with European ties. I’m really enjoying that because, of course, my sister has dual citizenship (Swedish and U.S.), and I have a deep love of Scandinavia.

I see Swedish model Petra Silander when I think of Laura. It’s hard to find photos of Ms. Silander wearing clothes, but I did manage to find this.




I’m having a lot of fun learning bits and pieces of Puerto Rican Spanish, which is apparently different than the Mexican Spanish with which I am nominally familiar. Thanks to Arlene and Beatrice Rios and their friend Wilson Cruz for their help. So far, we’ve focused mostly on swear words and how Javier would talk to his beloved Puerto Rican grandmother.


The I-Team crew are back, including Nate, Megan, Emily and Jack West from Skin Deep.

So there’s a quick glimpse of the next I-Team novel.

In addition to writing, I’m very busy with the garden, getting up at about 5:30 a.m. each day to do work outside while it’s cool, then coming inside, washing off the mud, and getting to work. Growing our own food — or as much of it as we can — is important to me for so many reasons, not the least of which is health. I will admit that by the end of the season, I am usually looking forward to that first hard frost so I can STOP working outdoors and free up more time for things like sleep.

I won’t be blogging as much over the next several weeks, but I do hope to bring you weekly random sexcerpts from my books — clips of sexy, funny or romantic scenes — as well as some fun in the form of a MacKinnon’s Rangers trivia contest. So stay tuned!

The front of the Defiant trading cards

There’s something bittersweet about finishing book you really love. If the story was emotional, you feel drained, raw around the edges. You’re sad that it’s over, and yet you’re also basking in the joy that the story brought you.

I think authors experience their own version of this when a book they loved and worked so hard on finally hits bookstore shelves. I know that last Tuesday when Defiant came out, a part of me just wanted to cry. The wait for Connor’s book had been so long. There was a time when I didn’t think I’d ever be able to write it. And then, last Tuesday, it was out.

The breathless emails I’ve gotten, the raving reviews, the sweet messages you’ve sent have also choked me up. Knowing that something I’ve written affected you so deeply is very touching for me. Not everyone loved it, but most of you have really enjoyed it. And, well, you can’t please everyone all the time.

I thought I’d answer some frequently asked questions about the book and the series. (Contains spoilers! Ye be warned!)

1. Am I going to write Joseph’s story? Yes, absolutely. I can’t say when it will be out, but I will write it. He is a brother, even if he isn’t a MacKinnon, and he deserves his own happy ending.

2. Am I going to write Lord William’s story? How could I not? I adore him, even if he is a selfish, manipulative jerk. Now that he has experienced absolutely powerlessness, true suffering, and fear, he is going to be a changed man. No, he won’t be courteous, kind and forgiving. But he will be in a position where I can put him through his own transition from anti-hero to hero. His character arc is four books long. It starts in book one and moves through to the end of his own story. But, again, I’m not sure when I’ll be writing his book.

3. How can you say goodbye to the MacKinnon brothers and to the Rangers? That was hard. It was so very hard! I sobbed! We’ll see the brothers and their families again in Joseph’s story. We might even see a Ranger or two. But the time when the Rangers were a unit and lived and fought side by side is at an end. But then all good things must end. Even Star Trek: The Next Generation ended.


4. Will I write any novellas about the brothers in the future? I hope so! They’ve lived in my head for eight long years. I don’t want to let them or Annie, Amalie and Sarah go. I think a nice MacKinnon Christmas novella or some other short story might be fun.

5. What about the MacKinnon children? I don’t know. They’re too young to fight in the American Revolution but that doesn’t mean they can't have stories. I’ll have to wait and see what the Muse has to say about it. Interestingly, the MacKinnon men are young enough that they will fight in the Revolution. I don’t know what that means, but maybe I’ll have to bring them back for some novellas set during that time.


6. What can you do to support the book? Post reviews. Share your love of the story with your friends. Mention the book in discussion groups and loops. Share the link for the trailer (your friends will thank you!). “Like” the book on Amazon.com and B&N. Word of mouth is the most important thing.

I’m saving other questions and answers for Thursday evening’s big video chat via Shindig Events. Last time there were some technical difficulties. Hopefully that will all be worked out this time. Also, there is a private discussion group on Facebook dedicated to talking about Defiant chapter by chapter. Click here to ask to join. We just started, so you haven’t missed much.

To register for the After the Epilogue live video chat, click here. The fun begins at 9 PM Eastern Time/8 Central on July 12. You’ll be sent a reminder email just before the event, which is FREE, begins. During the chat, you’ll be able to chat privately with other readers or ask me questions about the book. It’s your chance to talk about the story without worrying about spoilers. It works best if you have a camera and a mic, whether built-in or not, but you can participate by hearing what’s being said if you don’t. Five participants will win $20 Amazon gift cards IF we can figure out how to collect names and make it work. We weren’t able to give books away last time like I had planned.

And now I just want to give a heartfelt thank you to all of you who made the release week for Defiant so very special for me. I am so grateful to you for your support and your excitement. If I started a list of names of those people who contributed to the joy of this past week, it would go on forever. But I do want to mention the Street Team and thank them for their support online and in the bookstores in helping to spread word about the novel. You know who you are!

As a way of saying thanks, I would love to send a signed Defiant trading card and/or signed book plate to anyone who wants one. The cards are glossy and pretty and work nicely as bookmarks. The book plates have my signature and stick to the inside of the book, turning the copy into an autographed copy. (Ebook readers! Check out Kindlegraph to get your autographs!)

To get your signed Defiant trading card(s) or signed book plate, send a self-addressed stamped envelope to:

Pamela ClarePO Box 1582Longmont, CO 80502
I’ll get them in the mail. Please specify which you prefer — a trading card (up to four), a book plate or both.

So what was your favorite moment in Defiant?

Welcome to the DEFIANT Release Day Party!
Who stayed up late last night to see the release of the live-action trailer? I don’t know when I’ve felt such anticipation. Thanks to those of you who shared the experience with us — me, my son Benjamin, Jenn LeBlanc of Illustrated Romance, Karl Biermann, Derek Hutchins, Cora Kemp, Kate McDermott and Mike Gamache — last night on Facebook. It was epic fun!

If you haven’t seen the trailer, click here to see what all the excitement is about, or scroll down to the post prior to this one.

If you want to blog hop, you can visit Happy Ever After Reads , where I’m guest blogging today. Or you could stop by USA Today’s Happy Ever After blog for a guest post I wrote about the making of the trailer. You could also stop by Romancing Rakes for the Love of Romance for Kati R’s review of the book. Or you can head on over to Romantic Historical Lovers where Emery Lee and Jill did a tandem review. I’m thrilled to say the book is Jill’s FIRST full five-star review for 2012.

There are also several reviews up on Goodreads already. Click here to view those. There are also discussions about the series going on in my Goodreads fan group, and some Goodreads members are joining together to do a buddy read of Defiant .

If you’ve read the book and want desperately to talk about it, you have a few options. There’s the fan group above. There’s also the After the Epilogue Video Chat Party on Shindig Events on July 12 at 8 p.m. ET/7 Central. Follow the link to claim your free spot. And if you really want to discuss the book page by page, you can join me in the private Facebook Defiant Discussion Group . We should be revving up to talk about Connor and Sarah’s adventure by this weekend.

In the meantime, let’s party!

I can’t tell you what it means to you that this book is finally in your hands! It’s been a long wait since Untamed came out in 2008, and there was a dark year when I was afraid I would never get the chance to give Connor his story. But those worries disappeared when Penguin bought the MacKinnon’s Rangers series, and now we get to enjoy Connor’s story at last.




What did I love about writing this book? You mean besides hanging with a very sexy shirtless model all day while shooting the trailer?

For one, it’s the first MacKinnon’s Rangers book I’ve written since my visits to Fort Edward and Rogers Island (Ranger Island) in upstate New York. Though I think I did the location justice before, I could really see it when I wrote Defiant because I’d actually been there.

I also loved all the people I got to meet in the course of researching this series, people like Gary Zaboly, whose map of Rogers Island is published in both the book and ebook versions of the story; Eileen Hannay, who was the executive director of the Rogers Island Visitor Center and who is now a good friend; and Tim Todish, the researcher who annotated Robert Rogers journals. There’s nothing more satisfying than sharing a deep interest with other people.

Most of all, I loved being able to lose myself in the wilds of upsate New York again, to see the forest, feel the vastness of the wilderness and spend time in the company of the MacKinnon brothers and their wives again—not to mention Lord William and Lt. Cooke.

Lady Sarah was a real discovery for me, with her love of music and the terrible shame that drove her from her family. I love exploring the strength of feminine women, and Sarah has courage to spare. Her coming together with Connor felt to me like the liberation of her soul — and the salvation of his.

Being able to give Connor his story was such a joy. I hope you enjoy it, too! Which brings us to...

BOOK GIVEAWAY TIME!
I’m giving away FIVE signed copies of Defiant! To be entered into the drawing, help me spread the word about the book via Twitter and/or Facebook. Then comment below, telling me what you loved about the first two books in the series — share quotes, snippets of sex scenes, your favorite story moments. Be sure to leave your email address so I can contact you if you win! The deadline to enter is 12 AM on July 6. I’ll use a contest randomizer to pick five winners on Friday morning.

Have fun!

And thank you so much for sharing my excitement about this book!

It’s been a long wait, but today Defiant, MacKinnon’s Rangers Book III, is finally out! 
To celebrate, here’s the live-action trailer, as promised.
Enjoy!
Stop by tomorrow morning for fun, games and a chance to win a signed copy of the book!

We’re in the final countdown for the release of Defiant.  Hate the wait? Here’s a list of 11 ways to make these five remaining days go faster.


11. Make sure to register for the pre-release video chat party today hosted by Shindig Events! 

I’ll be doing a reading and giving away five signed copies of the book to participants. Click here to reserve your spot. Registration is free and takes all of 30 seconds. We’ll count down the final hours by have some fun together!


10. Re-read your favorite MacKinnon’s Ranger book, whether it’s Surrender or Untamed.

Okay, so maybe you've already done this. Twice. If so, skip to No. 9.

If not, it’s your chance to refresh your memory and enjoy once more everything that made you love the series.



9. Eat chocolate.

One of the best coping mechanisms ever, chocolate is proof that God loves us and wants us to be happy — and to enjoy the sensual things in life.



8. Visit the websites for Fort Ticonderoga and the Rogers Island Visitor Center to bone up on the history. 

There is nothing like visiting these places in person and feeling the history that resonates through them — echoes of lives lived and lost. The real places will be fresh in your mind when you read Connor and Sarah’s story. Click here for Fort Ti or here for Rogers Island Visitor Center.


7. Hold a kitten.

It is a scientifically proven fact that kittens make everything better.







6. Memorize the Rules of Ranging.

It’s what any Ranger would have had to do. Are you up to the challenge? The bonus here is that if you ever need to know how to cross a marsh in a way that confuses your enemies, you’ll be prepared. Just click here for the full list.


5. Listen to my Defiant iMix via Ping and be inspired by the music that inspired me.

There’s nothing like music when it comes to getting myself in the right mood — or should I say write mood? The mix of songs that helped keep me going during the wee hours includes Scottish folk performed by Old Blind Dogs, the soundtrack to The War that Made America documentary — and lots of Georg Friedrich Händel. Go to Ping I-Tunes and ask to follow me. The URL for the Defiant iMix is here. (Faves are “St. Kilda” and “Loch Erne’s Shore.”)




4. Make ash cakes.

Nothing says 18th-century Colonial American frontier like corn cakes cook in the ashes of a camp fire. Click here for the recipe and instructions. It’s not hard, and your kids will have a blast watching you make a mess. (Scroll down to the bottom for an awesome buckwheat recipe.) 




3. Go to my previous blog post with the stills from the video shoot to stare at sexy Connor in the flesh. Remember: The live-action trailer will be out on July 3, too!

Wait, did that just make the wait even harder?


God, Karl is yummy!

2.  Re-enact sex scenes from the series with your lover. 

Just be careful if you try a reenactment of Iain and Annie’s shaving scene. Straight razors are an acquired skill. Just sayin’.




1.  Watch Last of the Mohicans with Daniel Day Lewis.


Although the film wasn’t the inspiration for the series — I loved the movie when it came out in 1992, and was inspired to write about Rangers from research I’d done for Ride the Fire — it’s the closest thing you can find to a visual window into the world of Connor MacKinnon and his brothers. Daniel Day Lewis isn’t a Ranger, but he is a frontiersman who would have likely known of the MacKinnon brothers and possibly have considered them friends. He might well have known Captain Joseph, too.

The soundtrack is among several I listened to while I wrote the first three books of this series, so you can also enjoy that fantastic and very evocative music.

And here we are — just a handful of days away from July 3 and the release of Defiant and the live-action Defiant trailer. I can’t wait to share it with you.

Now, tell me what you’re doing to beat the wait.

Only six days till Defiant is out!
 I am so excited to share Connor’s story with you — and I’ve been busy with Benjamin and Jenn LeBlanc of Illustrated Romance finishing the live-action trailer.

We met Monday after Benjy got off work to shoot pickups for the trailer — little scenes we hadn’t shot before. After looking at the footage we had, we decided to add some voice-over and some very brief scenes with Lord William Wentworth and Connor.

Of course, we’re working on a non-existent budget and with models, not actors, so we couldn’t have Karl, who plays Connor, and Derek Hutchins, who plays Wentworth’s backside, reading lines from the book. So here’s how we did it...

We got Karl, Jenn, Benjamin, Derek and myself together at Jenn’s studio — #StudioSmexy on Twitter — and we put the guys into some creative costumes. Connor wore what he wore in the forest scenes plus a period accurate-ish shirt. Derek was self-sacrificing and wore a heavy British redcoat officer’s jacket, tight pants and boots despite the humid heat of the studio.

Then Benjamin took over from there, directing the filming of three shots — one of Wentworth reading a letter from his niece, the heroine, Lady Sarah; one of Connor and Wentworth face to face; and one of Connor praying with his wooden rosary.


Bit o’ trivia: The wooden rosary Karl/Connor holds is the very same wooden rosary I wore wrapped many times around my wrist like a bracelet while writing Untamed.

Now, back to our narrative...


We had a bit of extra help this time, with Kati and Jamie from Romancing Rakes working as Jenn’s assistants — moving lights, moving furniture, um... helping the guys with costumes. It was hard work, but someone had to do it, right?

For these scenes, we’d hoped to have the guys act out the physical aspects, while using the voices of people with very posh British accents for Lady Sarah and Lord William. Of course, I had no idea who would do the voices. It’s not like I keep a Rolodex listing actors by accent. But we’ll get to that in a minute.

Benjy directed the first scene — a thorough filming of Lord Wentworth’s ass. This involved getting a candle set up, adjusting lighting so that it looked like the scene was lit only by the candle and so on. Then Derek gamely proffered his well-dressed and very firm backside.

Cut. Done. Next shot.

This involved adjusting lighting a bit and positioning the camera and the guys so that we could see past Wentworth’s hip and arm across the desk to Connor’s abdomen. And because they’re having a bit of a heated exchange in this scene in the book, there needed to be physical motion.

And I have to say this was the highlight, because Derek really got into it. We weren’t using sound from the shoot, so he could say whatever he wanted. So to make his gesticulations feel real, he started lambasting Karl/Connor.

“Hey, you know what? Fuck you! I hate you! And you hate me! And so there’s this feud between us.”

“You know I hate you, but I need you to find my niece. Go on! Go! You’re such a jerk!”

And my fave:

“I fucking hate you but I need you to save my niece. What? You’re just going to stand there?”

Trouble was, what Derek was saying was so funny that everyone was laughing, and you could tell from the footage that the men were laughing. So we had to do several takes.

Then we shot the scene of Karl/Connor alone praying with the wooden rosary.

It took about an hour altogether to get the footage we need, and then we had to break everything down, pack stuff up, and close down the studio.

By the way, I’ve really never seen anyone carry as much at once as Jenn. I think the few times in her life that she’s not carrying something must be really special for her.


Photo stolen shamelessly from Jamie
I showed Kati and Jamie how to load fire a real 18th-century musket — sans ball and powder mind you — and showered poor Kati in the face with sparks from the flint.

D’oh!

When we got home, I had a surprise waiting for me. Kate McDermott and Mike Gamache, two Shakespearean actors I’d gotten in contact with via Twitter (thanks to author Carolyn Jewel, who saw my Twitter plea for British accents), had emailed me sound files of them speaking Sarah and Lord William’s lines. They don’t say much — there isn’t time for much — but the voices were key. I got so excited listening to them that I had to keep pausing just to squeal. They each did several takes with different inflections and rhythms — very beautifully done.

So now tonight, Benjy and I are meeting Jenn and Cora in some stretch of forest that isn’t on fire to tape three brief shots involving Lady Sarah.

And then we’ll have everything we need ready for Benjamin to edit together in time for the trailer’s July 3 debut. I can’t wait!

But there is other important news! 

I will be doing a live video chat through Shindig Events on July 2 from 6-7 p.m. Eastern Time to talk about Defiant and answer your questions. Shindig Events contacted me and invited me to utilize their very special technology for conducting video chats. So this should be fun and exciting. You will be able to communicate directly with me, and I will be reading a scene from Defiant. I will also be giving away five copies of the book.

The event is FREE! To register, just click here. It takes about 30 seconds to reserve your free spot.

I will also be holding an After the Epilogue Spoiler Chat through Shindig events on Thursday, July 12, at 9 p.m. Eastern Time for those who have read the book and want to talk about it with me and other readers without worrying about spoilers. This even is also free, but it SOLELY for people who’ve already read the book. I’ll be giving away some Amazon.com gift cards and chatting with you about the story.

Sign up will be available for it soon!

Mark your calendar, because the beginning of July is going to be fun around here.

Isn’t it weird to think that the book is coming out on the anniversary of the first battle of the French & Indian War? July 4 marks the anniversary of the Battle of Fort Necessity. Gives me goosebumps!

Hi, everyone! Please welcome the wonderful Cynthia Eden to our little corner of the blogosphere. She’s here to tell us that it’s

Party Time!
Take it away, Cindy...

Thanks so much to the always amazing Pamela for allowing me to come by and talk about my release party! 

On June 26, my next paranormal romance, ANGEL BETRAYED, will be out in the wild. To celebrate its release, I’m hosting an all-day party at my blog (www.cynthiaeden.com/blog).  On 6/26, the party will begin at 8 A.M. (Central time), and each hour, I will have a new guest author and a new giveaway for readers. We’ll spend the day talking heroes & heroines, books, favorite story lines — and there will be plenty of prizes!  The last guest post will be posted at 10 PM.  However, all of the giveaways will stay open until noon on June 27 — that way, people in all time zones will have a chance at the prizes.

Here are some of the fabulous authors who are attending the party:

Pamela Clare (rock star!)
Katie Reus
Marie Force
Manda Collins
Donna Grant
Joan Swan
Elisabeth Naughton
Julie James
Norah Wilson
Jennifer Haymore
Joyce Lamb
Janet Breakfield
Caridad Pineiro

There will be gift card giveaways, ARC giveaways, book giveaways — oh, I do love giveaways. ;)

If you have the chance, I hope you’ll swing by.

Thanks, again, to Pamela for letting me post about my party!   And, hey, how about we just go ahead and get the party started right here?  I’ll give a $10 Amazon.com gift certificate to one commenter. Just tell me…what do you like best about parties?  I’ll be back tomorrow at noon to announce the winner.

Best,
Cynthia Eden
www.cynthiaeden.com
ANGEL BETRAYED—Available 6/26/12
When you betray an angel, there’s all hell to pay…

You’ve read excerpts, gotten a glimpse of Lady Sarah Woodville’s world, and you’ve told me you can’t wait to get your hands on Connor MacKinnon. Today, you’re going to get as close as you can get to him until July 3, when Defiant is finally on bookstore shelves.

You haven’t read a word I’ve written, have you? Your eyes are glued on the amazingly handsome man with the freaking fantastic body in the image above. Can’t say that I blame you. I spent Saturday with him. I even drew on his skin. Whoa! That got your attention! Now follow along...

As I was saying, I’m going to give you a glimpse of Connor MacKinnon today, and there he is. It goes like this...


Author and photojournalist Jenn LeBlanc of Illustrated Romance is a friend of mine. We met at the journalism awards ceremony where I was given my Keeper of the Flame Lifetime Achievement Award in May 2010 and Jenn picked up an award for photojournalism. Only we didn’t actually meet. We probably ended up competing for space at the very small bar at the Denver Press Club, but I didn’t stay long that night, hitting the town with my posse for champagne and overpriced food.

Jenn and I met again at Lady Jane’s Salon in Denver. I was there to read. I walked in, and this woman with lovely blond hair said, “Oh, my God! You’re her!” I was confused, and Jenn introduced herself, explaining that she’d been there that night and had heard my acceptance speech (which is on YouTube for those of you who are bored out of your minds at work on a Monday morning). 


Long story short, we both write romance. And she does something that I really appreciate: She takes photos of extremely sexy male models and couples for her books and for romance novel book covers. Jenn is the photographer who brought you the cover of Skin Deep — all that chiaroscuro and man muscle. Yes, that’s her work.

A few weeks back, she sent me a text of ripped, half-naked man with the text, “Connor?” My response was something like, “Yum!”

The half-naked man turned out to be Karl — who was much hotter in person than that phone image could possibly convey. His presence, the fact that he largely fits the description of Connor, and my son’s film degree kind of coalesced into an idea: make a live-action trailer for Defiant.

And that, my friends, is what we’ve spent this past weekend doing.


Benjamin and set out early Saturday — shortly after fuck-o’-clock in the morning — with some props, including my Brown Bess 1757 musket, lead balls (ammo for the gun), a powder horn, a leather medicine bag to use as a parfleche, and some other junk. We headed south to meet Jenn, Karl and Cora, another photojournalist who assists Jenn and often models for covers, at a park outside Lakewood where there was a lake. (Jenn had scouted out locations earlier in the week.)

Benjamin and I got there a bit early and sat there in the cool morning air watching a rabbit hop around and talking about firearms. Then Jenn pulled up in her Jeep with Karl and Cora. We were supposed to follow them, but I had left the lights on, so my car wouldn’t start. A smexy Ranger came along and gave us a jump, and we were off.


Now, when you’re in public and your grand plan is to get someone mostly naked in strange public places and to brandish firearms, you do wonder whether you’re going to end up getting arrested and making very awkward phone calls to family. We had this in mind as we reached the lake and hiked back to a less public beach. While Jenn, Benjamin and Cora talked about lighting, Karl took off his clothes, stripping down to a pair of swim trunks, and walked into the water.
 
God, I love my job!

 At that point, I could have started photographing the scene for a “making of” documentary. Instead, I was standing there trying not to stare, something akin to “Oh, holy God!” running through my mind as my estrogen levels abruptly shifted from “nice” to “very, very naughty.” I wondered for a few minutes how I was going to get through the day without acting like a 16-year-old in the midst of her first crush. (Jenn says I blushed. She does not have photographic proof of this, so I choose not to believe her. I do not blush.)
The water portion of the shoot lasted for close to an hour. There was chest washing, water trickling over pecs and abs, biceps washing. I gave Karl an overview of the story and what the hell Connor would be doing in a lake — taking a bath to wash away the blood of battle, it so happens — and then Benjamin coached Karl through some shots based on that bathing scene. It’s a good thing Benjy was directing, because I love men in water and would likely have kept reshooting those scenes until Karl’s toes turned to prunes.

While this was going on, Jenn was live tweeting it to an audience of our readers, who were waiting with photos on my Facebook page and on Twitter with the #StudioSmexy hashtag. 

When the water games were done, we packed up, remarking that we hadn’t yet been arrested, and headed off to our next location — where we found a sign telling us that we couldn’t use firearms. Since the legal definition of “use” is somewhat unclear and given that the place was crowded and that two Ranger vehicles were nearby, we decided that discretion really is the greater part of filmmaking and went somewhere else — Cora’s parents’ house. 
On our way, we passed what was clearly Jack West’s ranch, the Cimarron, but that’s another story.
Cora’s folks have a beautiful mountain home with lots of acreage of forest, where we set about the forest part of the shoot. Now, a Colorado forest looks nothing like a forest from upstate New York, but we couldn’t replant the whole thing. We had to make it work. We got out our props, had Karl switch from swim trunks to breeches, and got out Bess — my musket. 
Benjamin directed the shooting, while Cora helped with lighting and Jenn took photos. What did I do? Well, I drew the tattoos on Karl’s arms. 
This was not a hardship for me. Take an eyeshadow pen, draw designs on a sexy man’s muscular arms. Sure, okay. I’ll do that. I didn’t even lie and make up some story about Connor having extensive tattoos on his chest, thighs, back, butt cheeks, and lower belly. I could have done that, you know. (Sometimes, I’m too well-behaved for my own sake.)
 
The forest shoot lasted the rest of the morning and into the early afternoon as Karl was put through the paces of being Connor MacKinnon. Even though the costume was not historically accurate and the whole operation was ultra-mega-low-budget, there came a moment where Karl was running full-tilt through the forest when both Jenn and I got goose bumps.

There running through the trees was Connor MacKinnon, in the flesh. As Jenn later wrote on Facebook, it was like being in the forest with my muse.



Karl took the job very seriously, doing everything that was asked of him and handling the physical demands of it well. Fortunately, he has firearms experience, so we didn’t have to show him how to hold the musket. Working with people who’ve never held a gun and making it look natural is a filmmakers’s nightmare. We didn’t have to deal with that.
Benjamin came up with some clever ways of getting the footage he wanted, though I don’t want to give too much away. I won’t say more about that.

 After we were finished, I took everyone to lunch and got to talk with the man I’d spent the past six hours staring at. Karl is intelligent and concerned and fun — not at all self-centered or arrogant like some male models can be. We all had a great time.

And on July 3 to celebrate the release of the book, Reel Films (that’s Benjamin’s film company) together with Illustrated Romance (that’s Jenn), and I will bring you a live-action trailer for Defiant. I’ve seen the rough cut edit of the footage, and it’s fantastic. We’ll be getting together for some pickup shots next week — we’re adding Wentworth and Lady Sarah to the trailer — and then we’ll be down to sound and the soundtrack.

Only 15 days to go until Defiant is finally out and you get to read the book and see Connor in action!