Friday, June 26, 2009

It's Friday! - Quick Update

Hey everyone,

I thought I'd give a quick update in the Lucy office. As some of you may know, Lucy has been on a trip in Hawaii for the past week. I have been looking over the office and I'm in the middle of a HUGE move. The goal - to move the entire contents of my office from the library to the room down the hall. Luckily I have a couple helpers to make the job a bit easier. Nonetheless I've been coming over every night to make the transition into the new room. Ever thought you could tackle a project in a couple of days, only to realize that it is a much more complicated job than you originally anticipated? Lets just say it is a work in progress! :)

Lucy should be arriving home on Monday but we'll see how the airlines stack up. Just a quick reminder. Lucy is having a contest on her website that you should check out as well as the BIG DRAWING on the blog for the month of June both celebrating her 45th release of Watch Over Me!!!

Have fun out there!~

Friday, June 19, 2009

More Fun Stuff Freebies

Our wonderful and talented Promo Guy created some truly fabulous wallpaper for The Goddard Project as well as a new avatar. Both are available for download in full size on my Contests & Fun Stuff Page on my website.






Aren't they gorgeous???

Thanks Promo Guy!!!

Hugs,
Lucy

Thursday, June 18, 2009

Fun Hair Day & Contests

Okay, I'll admit it. Here's my deep, dark confession: few things make me as cranky as a bad hair day. It's sad, but true. I don't know if it's something I think I should have control of, or what, but I really, really, REALLY hate those days when I would be more comfortable with a paper bag over my head. I've tried hats, and unless they are for glad rags, they mostly look rediculous on me. Though I have a Chinese sun hat that I think is so quirky I don't care if I do look funny in it. :) I've tried headbands. So not a good look for me. I've tried wigs, but they ITCH!!!

So, I'm very blessed that one of my oldest friends used to be a hair stylist. We met in middle school and I was one of her first clients when she got out of beauty school. Myra is now an area supervisor for Regis, but she still does my hair because she's way too nice for her own good. LOL

I promised to share some pics from our last hair day at her house, when she put pink highlights in my oldest daughter's hair. So, here they are:

Pre-Op with both daughters and our little munchkin.

During.

The final product.

I am truly thankful for my wonderful and very talented friend! To see more pics for our Fun Hair Day, visit my MySpace.

Now, about the contests mentioned in the header...DQ picked a winner for the prize on her guest blog. It's Michele L. Please email Promo Guy with your deets so he can get the prize out to you.

Just a quick reminder, the big prize package for June celebrating the 45th release for me will be drawn from ALL the comments made on ALL the posts for the month of June! And I'm giving away a special prize pack off my website this month as well, so don't forget to enter that contest too!

Hugs and take care,
Lucy

Monday, June 15, 2009

Lisa Hendrix!!! Special Guest Blog

When Lucy invited me to guest blog here, I started thinking about what I should write about. That's always the big question, typically answered by going back through the host blog to see what current topics are being discussed, so I can continue in a similar vein while tying in a bit of book promo. So I tiptoed through a few days ago, only to discover Lucy was celebrating the release of her 45th book, WATCH OVER ME.

Forty-five books! Ohmigosh. I knew her way back when she was just aspiring to publication. But how far back was that? I'm getting to that age where years blur together. Hmm...

So I dug back in my email archive, and there was the first contact I ever had with the then-unpublished president of a local RWA Chapter, dated January 4, 2000. She wrote to ask me if I'd speak to their chapter on October 1 of that year. January...for October! I was convinced there was a typo -- no one ever scheduled local speakers out that far. But no, Lucy assured me, she really did schedule that far out, because, as she explained, "...then I actually get to write as well as be President of our chapter."

Then, a couple of months later, I got this message with the subject "A Neat Development":

"I pitched an idea to B&N about having a 'Romance Author of the Month' and by the way, why not make that author our chapter speaker since she'll be in for a signing anyway that month?...They will have a prominent display of your books out all month along with a stand up with your picture, short bio and book cover(s). You will get the usual advertising for your signing, but billed as their 'Romance Author of the Month.'"

Those two snippets tell you a whole lot about who Lucy is, how she's managed to bring out 45 books out in six years, why she has the career she has, and why everybody loves her: Organization. Hard work. Good ideas.

And generosity.

Generosity is more common in the ranks of romance authors than in any other group of writers I've ever observed, but Lucy follows her mentor, Debbie Macomber, in exceeding even that high standard, both within the writing community and in the community at large. And like Debbie, she writes FAST, thus making me incredibly jealous--but not jealous enough to stop liking her.

So that's why I wanted to do this post about Lucy and not my book or hero or any of that nonsense. See, Lucy is a real-life heroine, who has accomplished an incredible amount in the nine and a half years since she sent me that first email. Forty-five books published, a passel of kids raised or fostered and graduated from high school, a foundation started to help yet other kids who don't have their own Lucy, other writers mentored and assisted, and about a million fans hugged virtually and in person.

That needs to be celebrated.

However, I do have books to sell, too (Lucy understands), so please excuse this brief plug for IMMORTAL OUTLAW, Book 2 of The Immortal Brotherhood, my paranormal historical romance series about a crew of Viking warriors cursed to live forever as were-beasts:

For centuries he’s hidden in the woods. Now a maid has come to lead him out…

It’s been four centuries since Steinarr the Proud was cursed by a wicked sorceress-along with the rest of his Viking crew-to live for eternity as half man, half beast. By day Steinarr is like any other man-by night he is a lion. He has taken refuge in the woods of Nottinghamshire, England, and there he encounters two young travelers, Robin and Marian.

Painfully aware of the danger he presents when the moon rises, Steinarr initially refuses to help them search for the key to Robin’s inheritance. Then a kiss from Marian awakens his desire. Driven to protect the maid he so desperately wants to possess, Steinarr joins their quest…while the sorceress Cwen gathers her dark magic to destroy them.

As a legend spreads of an outlaw in the woods, their band is joined by others. But it is Steinarr who has the most to gain and the most to lose-if he is ever to be free of the curse and free to love as a man…

Please visit my website http://lisahendrix.com for more information about the Immortal Brotherhood books, on-going contests, special programs for readers groups, and extras like printable bookmarks and an interactive map of Steinarr and Marian's quest.

And now, just because I have this perfect opportunity, I want to say...

I Love Lucy.


Best wishes to all,

Lisa Hendrix

Saturday, June 13, 2009

Watch Over Me SOUNDTRACK

You read that right! A soundtrack for Watch Over Me.

Music is a huge part of my life and plays a significant role in my writing process, so is it any wonder that ever since buying the soundtrack Susan Elizabeth Phillips' son did for This Heart of Mine, I've wanted to have one made for one of my books? I still listen to that soundtrack and it brings back the great feelings I had when reading THOM. Giving that same gift to my readers was a dream I wasn't sure how to realize.

Then, a couple of years ago, an amazing singer who was a friend of my sister's told me she'd do a soundtrack for Satisfaction Guaranteed, but time got away from her and the project never got past the planning stages. So, when DQ's boyfriend (a wonderful young man I hope to call son one day) suggested a couple of his friends to do one for Watch Over Me, I was excited but not expecting too much. I guess I didn't want to get my hopes up. Man, sometimes it feels good to be wrong! LOL

I should have expected the world! Not only did fresh artists BBk and Image create an incredible five song soundtrack for Watch Over Me, but they sold me rights so I can allow my readers to download the music for FREE for the next two years! I really wanted to do something special to say thank you to you all for supporting me through 45 books and this soundtrack is it. I hope you all enjoy listening to it as much as I have. In my opinion, it's absolutely fabulous! :)

You can listen to it and download it off the "Contest & Fun Stuff" page on my website or on MySpace.

Mega hugs,
Lucy :)


BBk's Bio

"Life is just alot of sounds that form a vision for our eyes, So I simply use earth as my pallet, and my potrait the sky...."

Delivering unqiue sounds since 2006, BBk was born and raised in Sacramento CA, where he took an intrest in music. At the age of 15 he moved from his home town to Oregon, becoming a music producer soon there after. Influenced by his best friend and now beat mentor CMA Natural, BBk forms together sounds that are destined for the ears of others. With styles ranging from underground Hip Hop to techno to Jazz, he creates sounds that everyone can vibe with. You can find BBk on MySpace here.

And more information on BBk's Knowhere Village can be found here.


Image's Bio

Up and coming hip-hop musician, Image was born in Portland, Oregon. He began writing songs to instrumentals, downloaded by his father (a local Portland rapper by the name of Johnie b.), and decided to take on rapping as a hobby at the age of 8. Anthony attended Benson High School in Portland, where he adopted the name Image for his vivid storytelling implemented in his raps. He decided to further his education and attended Willamette University, gaining a BA in Sociology, where he adopted the nickname Triece. The two names began to go hand in hand as he uses his name Image as his fast-talking, arrogant alter ego, while Triece is his more personable side which he prefers to be called off stage. He is currently recording under his label Backpack Musik which is part of EZ House Entertainment, a blend of music and urban streetwear clothing. He has performed with other artists and groups such as Nappy Roots, The Pack, and Living Legends to name a few. His first solo mixtape was released April 2009 and is available for free download here.

Look forward to more music being released by this artist in summer 2009 under the Backpack Musik label, linked with EZ clothing company, which can be found and bought on kazbaa of karmaloop.com or ezlifestyleclothing.com.

Contests for Authors?

Sure, they have 'em, but usually they require voting of some sort rather than simply drawing a name. :) Currently, The Spy Who Wants Me (which received a wonderful 5 Star review) is up for Best Book of the Week on Long and Short Reviews. Take a minute and stop by and vote on your favorite book in the list right here.

Thursday, June 11, 2009

Thursday Updates and "Watch Over Me" Excerpt

Good Afternoon Everyone,

Have you ever had one of those days when you feel like taking it easy and relaxing with a good story? Today just happens to be one of those days at the Lucy office and I thought to myself - Why not offer a couple quick reads. That being said, I have posted an excerpt from Watch Over Me and Valentino's Love Child!!! I hope you enjoy...

On a final note; Lucy will be posting tomorrows blog with some really exciting updates for her latest release Watch Over Me. You will want to check that out!!! Have a great weekend, stay safe, and I'll see you on Monday.



"Watch Over Me"

“I know I am.” Lana bit her lip, looking adorably sleep tousled. “Why would you suspect ETRD’s benefactor?”

“I don’t.” Not that Myk didn’t wish he could think of one really solid reason to believe the mysterious Mr. Smith was involved.

However, Smith lacked discernable motive. And more to the point, Myk had a hard time believing that if Smith were involved in some way, anyone would have ever found out about the Vega Cartel’s interest in Lana’s enzyme. No matter how accidentally.

Her brow furrowed. “You told that person on the phone that Mr. Smith was a suspect.”

“He is.”

“That means you suspect him.”

“No, it means I’m not ruling him out.” A good agent was thorough. And Smith just pissed him off on principle.

She finger combed her strawberry blond hair, making an abortive move to contain it in another ponytail. She didn’t have a scrunchy. “What about me, are you ruling me out?”

He didn’t laugh, but the urge was there. “Yes.”

“Why?”

“For one thing, if you were feeding the Vega Cartel information on your project, they would know it didn’t really transform metals.”

“We don’t know for sure they’re interested in a literal interpretation of my note. Doubling their drug crops would be almost as good as turning lead into gold.”

“True, but even if that were the case, if you’d told them about the project, they would know you didn’t have enzymes developed for their crops either.”

“I could be working on their enzymes on the side. In secret.” She looked so sincere, he just wanted to kiss her.

He refrained. For the moment. “You aren’t.”

“I know. What I don’t understand is how you can be so sure.”

He scooted his chair back and then grabbed her wrist, tugging her toward him. She settled into his lap with a minimum of fuss, but her expression was wary.

He kissed the furrows on her forehead and they smoothed away. “If you were involved, the cartel would have no reason to target Elle, would they?”

“Perhaps.”

“Listen. In the field, you can’t always get proof of what your gut is telling you, so you have to go with your instincts. Mine tell me that you are one of the world’s true idealists.”

“You trust me. Implicitly.” She looked horrified by that possibility.

“That bothers you. A lot.”

“I’m worried you’re going to believe in the wrong person.”

He stared at her and then shook his head. For a woman who had such an unjustified optimistic view of the world, she had major trust issues. “You’re worried I won’t do my job right.”

“You’re awfully trusting.”

He laughed, the sound harsh even to his own ears. “I’m not.”

“Well, no, you’re right. I mean you seem to have this really cynical view of people. Even Mr. Smith is a suspect, but you trust me.”

Why did she find that so hard to believe?

“Lana, you have been through hell and yet you maintain a view of the world that is staggeringly positive. You cried for the men who died when you broke out of the prison they put you in, even after they had tortured you.”

“You can’t know that.”

“Are you saying you didn’t?”

She frowned and looked down at her lap. “No.”

“You still love your family though they don’t accept you and didn’t stand by when you needed them the most. I saw the pictures you have of them on the mantel of your fireplace, the birthday cards they sent you still sitting upright on display on top of your neatly dusted dresser even though your birthday was months ago.” He listed his evidence before she had a chance to question his knowledge again. “You never turned your ex-boyfriend in for his collusion in your kidnapping. No way in hell would you ever willing work with a drug cartel.”

“You sound like you think all of those things are good.”

“I so do.”

“You don’t think I’m a wimp?”

“You are stronger than any other woman I’ve ever known.” How could she not see that? Lana had survived hell and not only lived to tell the tale, but lived – didn’t just exist.

“No.”

“Yes.”

“What about Elle?”

“My sister is fantastic, but, sweetheart, you? Are amazing.”

Lana shook her head.

Myk kissed her. It was a biological imperative he wasn’t about to ignore. Her lips were sweet and soft and he was ready to take it deeper when his computer chimed the alarm to alert him he had a new email from someone on his case list.

She lifted her head. “What was that?”

“I’ve got mail.” He’d misquoted a romantic comedy his baba had thought was sweet and tried to get him to watch.

Lana grinned and winked, showing she got the small joke. “From a sexy woman interested in you?”

“The only sexy woman I’m interested in right now is sitting in my lap.”

“Seriously?”

He cupped her cheek and looked into her hazel eyes, understanding how she could doubt. He was no player, but she wouldn’t know that. “Seriously. I’m not a good candidate for long term, but I don’t cheat. I won’t be touching another woman as long as I’m sharing your bed. And I expect the same in return.”

“One, I don’t touch other women. I only swing one way.”

He shook his head and found himself smiling again, it was becoming a habit. He wasn’t sure he liked that. But her sense of humor got him every time. And her grin was too sweet not to enjoy.




"Valentino's Love Child"

Faith drove like an automaton toward Pizzolato. They’d met? They knew each other?

Each word that Tino had used to answer his mother’s innocent questions had driven into her heart with the precision of an assassin’s dagger. And the wounds were still raw and bleeding. As they would be for a very long time.

How could he dismiss her as if she meant nothing to him?

But she had the answer to that, an answer she wanted to ignore, to pretend no knowledge of for the sake of her lacerated heart. She only wished she could do it – that she could lie to herself as easily as she had deluded herself into believing things were changing between them.

He could dismiss her as someone of no importance in his life because that was exactly what she was. She was his convenient sex partner. Nothing more. Friends? When it was convenient for him to think so, but that clearly did not extend to times with his family.

They’d met. The words reverberated through her mind over and over again. A two-word refrain with the power to torture her emotions as effectively as a mental rack and bullwhip.

She did not know why he had slept with her that night in Marsala. She had no clue why he had taken her to his bed in his family home, but she knew why he hadn’t called her for two weeks and had ignored her calls to him.

Because he regretted that intimacy and perhaps even because he was hoping to end their association.

The pain that thought brought her doubled her over and she had to pull to the side of the road. Tears came then.

She never cried, but right now, she could not stop.

She sobbed, the sounds coming from her mouth like those of a wounded animal and she had no way of stopping them, of pulling her cheerful covering around her and marching on with a smile on her face. Not now.

She had thought maybe it was her turn for happiness. Maybe this baby heralded a new time in her life, one where she did not lose everyone who she loved.

But she could see already that was not true.

She had lost Tino, or was on the verge of doing so.

Her body wracked with sobs, she ached with a physical pain once again no one was there to assuage.

What if Tino’s rejection was merely a harbinger of things to come?

What if she lost this baby too? She could not stand it.

The first trimester was a risky one, even though her doctor had confirmed her pregnancy was viable and not ectopic. The prospect of miscarriage was a dark, scary shadow over her mind.

Falling apart at the seams like this could not be helping, but she didn’t know if she had the strength to rein the tears in. How was she supposed to buck up under this new loss?

The pain did not diminish, but eventually, the tears did and she was able to drive home.

She had not lied when she told Agata she felt the need to create, but the piece she did that night was not one she wanted to share with anyone. Especially not a woman as kind as Tino’s mother.

Faith could not make herself destroy it though.

Once again it embodied pain she had been unable to share with anyone else.

It was another pregnant figure, but this woman was starving, her skin stretched taut over bones etched in sharp relief in the clay. Her clothes were worn and clung to the tiny bump that indicated her pregnancy in hopeless poverty. Her hair whipped around her face, raindrops mixed with tears on the visage of a mother-to-be almost certain not to make it another month, much less carry her baby to term.

The figure reflected the emotional starvation that had plagued Faith for so long. She’d tried to feed it like a beggar her empty belly in the streets. Teaching children art, sharing their lives. Her friendship with Agata. Her intimacy with Tino, but all of it was as precarious as the woman’s hold on life in her statue.

Faith had no one to absolutely call her own and feared that somehow the baby she carried would be lost to her as well.

She could not let that happen.

***

Valentino called Faith the next day. He’d tried calling the night before – several times, after Gio had gone to bed, but she had not answered. He’d hoped to see her, but she had been ignoring the phone.

It was the first time she had done so during their association. He had not liked it one bit and had resolved not to avoid her calls in the future.

This time however, she answered on the third ring, just when he thought it was going to go to voicemail again.

“Hello, Tino.”

Carina.”

“Do you need something?”

“No, ‘How was your trip?’, or anything?”

“If you had wanted to tell me about your trip, you would have called while you were away…or answered my calls to you.”

Ouch. “I apologize for not doing so. I was busy.” Which was the truth, just not the whole truth.

“Too busy for a thirty second hello? I don’t think so.”

“I should have called,” he admitted.

“It doesn’t matter.”

“If it offended you, it does.” Of course it had offended her.

He would not have cared with any of the other bed partners he had had since Maura’s death, but this was Faith. And he cared.

“I guess you didn’t have time for phone sex and saw no reason to speak to me otherwise,” she said in a loaded tone.

He had already apologized. What more did she want? “Now, you are being foolish.”

“I seem to make a habit of that with you.”

“Not that I have noticed.”

“Really?” She sighed, the sound coming across the phone crystal clear. “You must be blind.”

Something was going on here. Something bad. Perhaps he owed her more than a verbal apology for avoiding her as he had done. It was imperative they meet. “Can we get together tonight?”

“For sex only, or dinner first?”

What the hell? “Is it your monthly?”

She was usually disconcertingly frank about that particular time of month and did not suffer from a big dose of PMS, but there was a first time for everything. Right?

She gasped. There was a few seconds of dead air between them. Then she said, “No, Tino. I can guarantee you it is not that time of month.”

Rather than apologize for his error yet again, he said, “It sounds like we would benefit from talking, Faith. Let’s meet for dinner.”

“Where?”

He named a restaurant and she agreed without her usual enthusiastic approval.

“Would you rather go somewhere else?” he asked.

“No.”

“All right then. Montibello’s it is.”



Monday, June 08, 2009

Special Monday Excerpt from "Watch Over Me"

Hope everyone had a great weekend!

I quick reminder that Lucy has decided to give a very special prize pack in celebration of her 45th release. The prize pack will include all the books in the TGP series and a few sweet specialties! Keep posting your comments and I will pick a winner to receive this amazing giveaway at the end of the week!

Enjoy the new excerpt from Lucy's 45th - Watch Over Me!


“I know I am.” Lana bit her lip, looking adorably sleep tousled. “Why would you suspect ETRD’s benefactor?”

“I don’t.” Not that Myk didn’t wish he could think of one really solid reason to believe the mysterious Mr. Smith was involved.

However, Smith lacked discernable motive. And more to the point, Myk had a hard time believing that if Smith were involved in some way, anyone would have ever found out about the Vega Cartel’s interest in Lana’s enzyme. No matter how accidentally.

Her brow furrowed. “You told that person on the phone that Mr. Smith was a suspect.”

“He is.”

“That means you suspect him.”

“No, it means I’m not ruling him out.” A good agent was thorough. And Smith just pissed him off on principle.

She finger combed her strawberry blond hair, making an abortive move to contain it in another ponytail. She didn’t have a scrunchy. “What about me, are you ruling me out?”

He didn’t laugh, but the urge was there. “Yes.”

“Why?”

“For one thing, if you were feeding the Vega Cartel information on your project, they would know it didn’t really transform metals.”

“We don’t know for sure they’re interested in a literal interpretation of my note. Doubling their drug crops would be almost as good as turning lead into gold.”

“True, but even if that were the case, if you’d told them about the project, they would know you didn’t have enzymes developed for their crops either.”

“I could be working on their enzymes on the side. In secret.” She looked so sincere, he just wanted to kiss her.

He refrained. For the moment. “You aren’t.”

“I know. What I don’t understand is how you can be so sure.”

He scooted his chair back and then grabbed her wrist, tugging her toward him. She settled into his lap with a minimum of fuss, but her expression was wary.

He kissed the furrows on her forehead and they smoothed away. “If you were involved, the cartel would have no reason to target Elle, would they?”

“Perhaps.”

“Listen. In the field, you can’t always get proof of what your gut is telling you, so you have to go with your instincts. Mine tell me that you are one of the world’s true idealists.”

“You trust me. Implicitly.” She looked horrified by that possibility.

“That bothers you. A lot.”

“I’m worried you’re going to believe in the wrong person.”

He stared at her and then shook his head. For a woman who had such an unjustified optimistic view of the world, she had major trust issues. “You’re worried I won’t do my job right.”

“You’re awfully trusting.”

He laughed, the sound harsh even to his own ears. “I’m not.”

“Well, no, you’re right. I mean you seem to have this really cynical view of people. Even Mr. Smith is a suspect, but you trust me.”

Why did she find that so hard to believe?

“Lana, you have been through hell and yet you maintain a view of the world that is staggeringly positive. You cried for the men who died when you broke out of the prison they put you in, even after they had tortured you.”

“You can’t know that.”

“Are you saying you didn’t?”

She frowned and looked down at her lap. “No.”

“You still love your family though they don’t accept you and didn’t stand by when you needed them the most. I saw the pictures you have of them on the mantel of your fireplace, the birthday cards they sent you still sitting upright on display on top of your neatly dusted dresser even though your birthday was months ago.” He listed his evidence before she had a chance to question his knowledge again. “You never turned your ex-boyfriend in for his collusion in your kidnapping. No way in hell would you ever willing work with a drug cartel.”

“You sound like you think all of those things are good.”

“I so do.”

“You don’t think I’m a wimp?”

“You are stronger than any other woman I’ve ever known.” How could she not see that? Lana had survived hell and not only lived to tell the tale, but lived – didn’t just exist.

“No.”

“Yes.”

“What about Elle?”

“My sister is fantastic, but, sweetheart, you? Are amazing.”