Margery Scott

Visions of Sugarplums and Other Inspirations
GUEST BLOG – Nina Pierce

I love writing stories. It’s so much fun to tell people I write full time and watch their reaction. Nearly every person asks, “Where did you find the inspiration for that novel?” And the answer I always give is everywhere and nowhere.

Everywhere there are the “what ifs” around you. “What if a virus killed off nearly all of the human population?” (Healer’s Garden http://amzn.com/B0035N1UO4 Ellora’s Cave) “What if vampires had a secret society for policing rogue vampires?” (Shadows of Fire, http://www.amazon.com/dp/B0092AWIRM/ ) “What if someone was a wolf shifter and didn’t know it?” (Bonded Souls http://amzn.com/B003VPWXM4 Ellora’s Cave) Okaaaaaay, so maybe you don’t ask yourself those questions, but that’s the kind of thing that rolls around in my head. I’m always imagining the “what if” of other dimensions or characters or places. From these odd ball thoughts the nugget of an idea forms and voila! A story is born!

Sometimes inspiration comes from a conversation overheard in the grocery store (it’s a new talent I’ve developed to follow people and “overhear” dialogue between mother and daughter without looking like a stalker ).

“Seriously Mom, he’s just, I don’t know, the same age as Uncle Todd.”
“Well, I wouldn’t go that young.”
“But he’s my law professor.”
“And he’s very single and he has a great butt I might add.”
“Ewww. Definitely TMI.” (A pause.) “You’re seriously going to do this?”
“It’s just drinks honey, not a marriage proposal.”

Oh, yeah, that is definitely going to become a book some day. I just can’t resist the idea of a younger man with an older woman. And the daughter already gave me all kinds of information about the fact that the man is the same age as one of her uncles and her professor. Oh, the conflicts abound with just that snippet!

Inspiration also comes from my adventures in traveling. I had the pleasure of visiting Sedona, Arizona and going on a jeep tour over and around the red rock formations. Between the remote location and the stories of extra-terrestrials shared by our guide, I couldn’t stop my brain from running through all the possible romantic suspense scenarios. “What if they found a body?” “What if it’s an alien?” Man, I just went all over the place with ideas that day. And yes, I still enjoyed the tour, but mostly because our guide was a handsome character in and of himself with a rich backstory of highschool loves, alcoholism and divorce. (Which I got him to share because I’m that curious about people.) He’s going to show up in a story some day.

Then there are the story ideas that spring to me from the newspaper headlines (usually the suspense part of my stories) or the songs on the radio (the romance plot).

But those nuggets only get me so far. It’s from the nowhere of my imagination the characters start forming and their troubles begin to surface and before I know it I’m on the journey of discovering another story. And it is a complete discovery for me. I’m what authors affectionately call a “pantser”, which means I have no outline. No idea (or very little) of where I’m going or what’s going to happen next. It’s all very organic. But that’s a post for another day.

The point is my inspiration is all around me. I can’t always tell you exactly where a story started, but I can tell you I love the thrill of writing it.

I want to thank Margery for letting me take over his blog today. It’s been a lot of fun.

Nina’s most recent release, Shadows of Fire, is a sexy romantic suspense novel involving vampires working undercover as firefighters to bring down a murderer hell bent on revenge.

BLURB:
A woman forced to live a life she didn’t choose …
Thirty years ago, a horrendous attack in the California mountains thrust chemistry student, ALEXANDRA FLANAGAN, into the secret world of vampires. Now, unable to stomach the thought of drinking blood from another person, she survives on a chemical blood wine. But there are some who secretly disapprove of her clandestine activities and will do anything to stop her.

A vampire of honor protecting humans …
Ancient vampire, REESE COLTON, is part of an elite military operation seeking out and eliminating rogue vampires. Undercover as a firefighter, he and his team have been called in to investigate the unusual number of fires covering up the murders of vampires living on Alex’s blood wine.

A murderer seeking revenge …
When chemistry ignites passion, Reese and Alex find themselves embroiled in an affair that catches them both unaware. With the number of fires escalating and evidence against Alex mounting, Reese isn’t sure whether to follow his heart or the clues as he seeks to find a murderer in the Shadows of Fire.

EXCERPT:
“Alex, you down here?” called the voice again.

“In the wine cellar,” she hollered back. Alex didn’t need to consult the appointment calendar to know who was thumping down her stairs.

“Glenn called and asked me …” Reese Colton strode around the corner, coming to a dead stop at the threshold. Time hung suspended. No one moved. Hostility instantly crowded the confined space, making it hard for Alex to catch her breath.

Questions ricocheted over Reese’s features.

The vampire filling the doorway had done nothing more than spend time at her bar with the rest of the off-duty firefighters. Perhaps he was a bit more flirtatious, even shared a toe-curling kiss with her on several occasions, and though she’d wanted more, Reese had taken it no further. Despite all of that, the moment shared with Ronan brought a stab of guilt that just pissed her off. Alex didn’t owe this vampire anything.

“Reese. You know Ronan Nason?” she asked, pleased it sounded as cavalier as she’d intended.

“Um … yeah, we met a couple of months ago at the university.” Reese removed his sunglasses with such deliberate precision, Alex was sure they would slice the heavy tension in the air.

“Reese was one of the firefighters who responded to that horrible fire in my chemistry lab,” she said, working to fill the uncomfortable silence. “The one where my grad student was killed?” The young woman had only recently settled in South Kenton as a doctoral student of Alex’s. The lab and all its contents had been burned so badly, the university wasn’t sure the insurance would be enough to replace everything. Fortunately, the grant money from the tribunal would guarantee a complete refurbishment and extra funding for Alex’s research. “And I’m sure the fire marshal did his job, but it bothers me that we don’t know the whys of it all.”

“The death was ruled accidental.” Both men spoke at the same time.

Her gaze flew between them. “Yes,” the word dragged slowly out of her mouth. “Still, it’s hard for me to understand how a grad student in chemistry could have been so careless.”

“No doubt the poor woman let the Bunsen burner from one of her experiments get out of control,” Ronan said. “Thank goodness no one else was caught in the blaze.” He looked to Reese for corroboration.

“Any life lost in a senseless fire is one too many.” Reese’s words were as hard as the look he shot Ronan. “It’s a code to live by.”

“Aye, ‘tis true for sure. Still, we have to be grateful it wasn’t worse. Perhaps more safety education needs to be done. I’m all for keeping students safe.”

“So I hear.” The half smile Reese flashed held a challenge—not humor.

Alex couldn’t believe her ears. Ronan’s reputation of hitting on underclassmen of both sexes was well known at the university. Apparently, his notoriety had also seeped into the town rumor mill and it was enough to raise Reese’s hackles. If Alex didn’t do something soon, the testosterone flying through the air would likely wound them all. She cleared her throat to draw their attention back to her. “Yes, well, okay then. Back to the task at hand.” Checking the scheduled appointments, Alex was surprised. Reese wasn’t expected for another hour. “You’re early, Reese. If you’re in a hurry, I’d be happy to—”

“No, I’m good.” Casually leaning against the door jamb, Reese crossed his booted feet at the ankles, tucked his sunglasses into his chamois shirt and folded his arms over his chest. His contentious stare never left Ronan’s annoyed expression. “In light of all the recent fires, Glenn wasn’t comfortable leaving you here on your own. When he called and asked me to give you a hand this morning, I told him I was happy to help with the appointments.”

Alex’s heart flipped in her chest. She’d spent months trying to entice Reese beyond innocent flirtations and innuendoes. Now, when she’d made the decision to cut her ties with South Kenton, the man looked as if he were going to devour her in one lusty bite.

BUY FROM AMAZON: http://www.amazon.com/dp/B0092AWIRM

Award-winning romance author, Nina Pierce, grew up in a house full of readers. Nina’s discovered the passionate side of romance with her sexy stories. For her, it’s all about the sweet scent of seduction mixed with the heartwarming aroma of romance.

Nina resides in New England with her high school sweetheart and soul mate of twenty-eight years and several very spoiled cats who consider her “staff”. When she’s not writing she enjoys spending time with her three grown children, one love-sick son-in-law and a heart-melting grandson.

You can keep up with her new books at her website ((http://www.NinaPierce.com) or by following her on Facebook (https://www.facebook.com/nina.pierce) or Twitter (http://www.twitter.com/ninapierce)

Please help me welcome historical romance author Cynthia Woolf to my blog today.

Bio:
Cynthia Woolf was born in Denver, Colorado and raised in the mountains west of Golden. She spent her early years running wild around the mountain side with her friends.

Their closest neighbor was one quarter of a mile away, so her little brother was her playmate and her best friend. That fierce friendship lasted until his death in 2006.

Cynthia was and is an avid reader. Her mother was a librarian and brought new books home each week. This is where young Cynthia first got the storytelling bug. She wrote her first story at the age of ten. A romance about a little boy she liked at the time.

She worked her way through college and went to work full time straight after graduation and there was little time to write. Then in 1990 she and two friends started a round robin writing a story about pirates. She found that she missed the writing and kept on with other stories. In 1992 she joined Colorado Romance Writers and Romance Writers of America. Unfortunately, the loss of her job demanded the she not renew her memberships and her writing stagnated for many years.

In 2001, she saw an ad in the paper for a writers conference being put on by CRW and decided she’d attend. One of her favorite authors, Catherine Coulter, was the keynote speaker. Cynthia was lucky enough to have a seat at Ms. Coulter’s table at the luncheon and after talking with her, decided she needed to get back to her writing. She rejoined both CRW and RWA that day and hasn’t looked back.

Cynthia credits her wonderfully supportive husband Jim and the great friends she’s made at CRW for saving her sanity and allowing her to explore her creativity.

Where did you grow up? Siblings? Locale? Were you considered a “bookworm” or a jock? Married, single? Children?
I grew up in the mountains west of Denver, CO. I have three brothers, two older (much older) and one younger. Because my older brothers were so much older than me, eight and twelve years older, my mother always said she raised two families. I was considered a definite bookworm. My mother was a librarian and we always had new books in the house. I loved it because I would get the book before anyone else. I’m married and have no children.
(I love Colorado, although driving those mountain roads is really scary. I still have the nail holes in my car’s upholstery as a reminder. )

Who are your favorite authors and favorite genres?
My favorite genre is historical romance. I like all time periods with regency probably my favorite. Two of my favorite authors are Johanna Lindsey and Julie Garwood.
I agree completely.

What’s your favorite way to relax and recharge? Hobbies?
I like to garden and we like to go fishing. Unfortunately, we haven’t been fishing in years now, but we still think about going. Now if we could just find the time.
(You and my hubby would get along fabulously.)

Do you have a favorite quote that sums up how you feel about life?
No quote that I can think of.

How long have you been writing?
I started writing when I was ten. I wrote a story, a romance of course, about a little boy that I liked at the time. I still remember his name, David Williams, but nothing else about the story.

Where do you prefer to write? Do you need quiet, music, solitude? PC or laptop?
I can write anywhere because my first draft is in long hand. I prefer quiet and when I used a computer I prefer my PC.
(I’m in awe of anyone who writes longhand. I don’t have the patience for that.)

Are you a plotter or a panzer?
I’m a definite pantser. I feel like when I plot the book it’s already written so what is the point. Of course, that leads to another problem that is more prevalent among pantsers, the sagging middle. I always know the beginning and end of the book but never have any idea about how to get there. LOL It usually works itself out when I’m writing.

Do you use real events or persons in your stories or as an inspiration for stories?
No.

Do you set daily writing goals? Word count? Number of chapters? Do you get a chance to write every day?
I don’t set daily goals. I write full time and I just make sure that I write something every day. I can’t fix a blank page.

What do you hope your writing brings to readers?
I’m not trying to write the next great American novel, I just want my readers to be able to get away from their real lives for a few hours and relax and enjoy my story

What long-term plans do you have for your career?
I intend to keep writing as long as I have stories to tell.

Would you like to tell us what you’re working on now?
I’m working on the third book in my Swords of Gregara series. This one is called Honora. It’s in the editing phase. I also started writing my next series, Brides Inc. The first book is The Golden Bride.

What advice would you give to unpublished authors?
Write, write and write some more. Get a good critique group. Get a professional cover and get a professional editor.

A fun fact readers wouldn’t know about you.
I collect purses.

Something about you that would surprise or shock readers.
I can’t think of a thing. I’m really a pretty laid back person.

Is your book a series? If so, how long? Family saga, other?
My book, Tame A Wild Bride is part of a series. The Tame series consists of three books and a short story. The books are Tame A Wild Heart, Tame A Wild Wind and Tame A Wild Bride. The short story is Tame A Summer Heart and is included in the WG2E anthology Summer Fling.

Tell us something you learned researching your book that surprised/interested you.
When researching thoroughbreds for Tame A Wild Wind, I was surprised to learn that horses give birth on the ground. For some reason I thought they did it while standing like a giraffe does. Also, it’s very unusual for a horse to give birth to twins and triplets are unheard of.

Can you give readers a blurb about your book?
Rosie Stanton climbed on a west-bound train to answer his ad for a wife and mother, everything she wants to be. But Tom Harris lied. He doesn’t want a wife, merely a mother for his two abandoned children and a cook and cleaner for his ranch. Betrayed once, he’s vowed never to let another woman into his heart. Sexy Rosie upsets all his plans and threatens to invade his scarred heart. How will he maintain his vow to keep his hands off her as she charms his children, his cow hands, his life?

How about an excerpt?
         Rosemary Stanton stood patiently on the train platform, sweat rolling down her back and between her ample breasts. Waiting. Sweating because it was an unusually hot day in late April. Waiting for her husband. A husband she wouldn’t recognize if he were standing right next to her.
         She’d been desperate when she answered the advertisement for a mail order bride. Wanted: Single woman to cook, clean, and care for children on a cattle ranch in southwestern Colorado. Will marry upon arrival.
         Well, she was twenty-six with no prospects. Her brother just got married and his new wife, Beatrice, didn’t want Rosie around. She could answer the advertisement or become a governess. Help someone else’s children grow up into adults. Live in someone else’s house. For the rest of her life, she’d have nothing she could call her own.
         Rosie wanted a home. Her own home. She wanted a husband and children. All the things she’d never have if she stayed in Philadelphia. When she’d seen the ad in the morning paper, she’d nearly shouted with glee. However, she managed to restrain herself until she retired to her room before she giggled with delight as she pressed her back against the door. The advertisement was tailor-made for her needs. It got her away from Beatrice and got her her own home all in one fell swoop.
         Her brother, Robert, though was not happy with the idea of his baby sister traveling across the country to marry a stranger. He grudgingly agreed to give her her dowry to take with her. Five thousand dollars. She’d take the draft to the bank as soon as she arrived in Creede, Colorado, and married Mr. Thomas Harris. Cattle rancher. It was her “in case it doesn’t work out” money. Though she supposed it would belong to her husband once she married. Perhaps she just wouldn’t tell him about it.
         Her conscience spoke up. That’s no way to start a marriage. With lies and secrets. Oh, all right. She’d tell him and have him take her to the bank. But not until after she’d taken his measure. She could tell by how he treated his animals what kind of man he was. A man who was cruel to his horses would also be cruel to his wife. If he was a cruel man, she would leave and she sure as heck wouldn’t tell him about her money.
         Even the substantial size of her dowry couldn’t seem to provide marriage prospects for Rosie back in Philadelphia. She wasn’t pretty in the conventional sense. She thought her face with its big brown eyes and full lips was pleasing enough, but men apparently hadn’t. Her one beau told her that her eyes were the color of warm brandy. That was before he left her to marry another more suitable woman. More suitable, hah! Richer was more like it.
He’d had expensive tastes and had married a rabbit-faced girl, heir to a substantial fortune to which he’d have access. Well, good luck and good riddance.
         She hoped her new husband wouldn’t be as snootish as Paul had been. As a cattle rancher she didn’t know what to expect but the idea of a more earthy, less frivolous man appealed to her.
         Rosie did have one extraordinary feature. Her hair. Waist length, wavy and a clear, golden blonde. Right now, standing on the train platform in Creede it was bound up in a loose bun on top of her head under her hat. It, like the rest of her, was covered in white dirt and a nasty grayish soot from the train. Her suit would never be the same again.
         She’d discovered on the second day of her trip, she could minimize the grime by sitting in the front of the car with the window closed. But sooner or later the heat and mugginess of the car would force her to open the window. The air came rushing in, cooling her, but bringing with it the dirt and ash from the train’s boilers and whatever the wind picked up along the way.
         On the long trip, she’d told herself again and again she’d made the right decision. She was right to make the difficult trip. This was her life and she had to take her future into her own hands.
         â€œExcuse me. Miss Stanton?”
         Rosie shaded her eyes from the late afternoon sun and looked up at a tall man with dark hair. His hat was pulled low, hiding his eyes. He had a strong jaw covered with a shadow of whiskers.
         â€œYes. I’m Rosemary Stanton.”
         He took off his hat and held out his hand. “I’m Tom Harris.”
         Rosie took his hand. It engulfed hers with a shock of warmth. Her pale skin stood in stark contrast to his tanned one. Calluses rubbed against her soft palm though the touch was not unpleasant. She looked from their clasped hands up into the bluest eyes she’d ever seen.
         â€œPleased to meet you, Mr. Harris.”
         â€œTom. Call me, Tom.”
         â€œAnd I’m Rosie.”
         â€œWhere are your trunks, Rosie?”
         â€œOh, I don’t have any trunks. I only brought what I thought I would need out here.”
         He picked up the two valises at her feet. “Doesn’t seem like much for an Eastern woman. I’m glad to see you’re practical.”
         Rosie felt the heat in her cheeks and knew she blushed at his praise, undeserving as it was. “Well, I didn’t think you’d have any balls.”
         He cocked an eyebrow.

You can find Cynthia’s books on Amazon, Barnes & Noble and Smashwords

Learn more about Cynthia on her website and blog. You can also follow her on Facebook and Twitter

Is there anything else you’d like readers to know about you?
Like all authors, I’m so grateful for my readers. I thank you all for reading my books.

Thanks for visiting with me today, Cynthia. Wishing you much success in your career.