Update:

Robin K. is the winner!

Robin, please email me: contact AT carrielofty DOT com. Select one of Ann’s available solo works (here: http://www.annaguirre.com/books/the-list/) and one of mine (here: http://carrielofty.com/Books.html). I’ll send you your selections to the address you provide. Congratulations!

Thanks to Cindy for inviting me here, and to everyone for stopping by!

***

Hi, everyone! Carrie Lofty here. Thanks so much to Cynthia for inviting me to stop by today! Her holiday celebrations are almost as much fun as her books are to read.

I’m also in good company. Like Lisa Renee Jones from yesterday’s post, I also have five books coming out in 2011. Hard to believe! The Regency-era Portrait of Seduction will be released in May from Carina Press, and in November I begin a new Victorian series from Pocket, which kicks off with His Vows to Keep. All very lovely and historical.

But not very deadly. I think only one villain bites in between the two books.

With Ellen Connor however…that’s where the deadly fun really starts.

Ellen Connor is the pseudonym I share with my friend Ann Aguirre. In late 2008 we decided to give co-writing a try, when Ann had an idea for an apocalyptic romance. Vicious monster dogs. Shapeshifters. End-of-the-world horrors. Oh, and amazingly hot sex between our tough chick, Jenna, and her ex-military partner, Mason. Thus Nightfall was born, the first of our “Dark Age Dawning” trilogy from Berkley.

Writing it was a blast. We wrote for ourselves, just enjoying the freedom of tackling a project without any expectations. We didn’t even know if we could work together long-term! But the deeper we climbed into our apocalyptic world, the more fun we had. And the more bodies piled up.

It was quite the change for me. My medieval romances had a slightly higher body count–you know, all those random guards that have to be fought when escaping a castle–but this was entirely different. We had to figure out how to kill evil monsters using WD-40. We had to decide how people would go about eating while trapped in a bunker with no electricity. And as a bonus, we even managed a way to make having sex in a Home Depot ultra hot. Doubters! Fear not! It is very possible!

What I learned is that there are just as many difficulties in writing a fictional world as there are in recreating an historical setting. (I’d never done this before, so the process was surprising.) When we had a question about what was happening, I couldn’t consult a book or find a primary source. Nope. Just…make it up? Really? The answers to all of our deadly, nasty, drooling, shapeshifting problems were all in our brains. Sometimes two brains gave us a problem-solving edge. Sometimes we had two very different ideas about how the story should proceed.

So needless to say, it was unlike any writing experience either of us had ever had. We successfully recreated the magic formula when we tackled Midnight this past summer, and we’re hip-deep in Daybreak right this moment. The trio hits the shelves in June, September and December. Here’s a little taste of Nightfall:

From out of the enveloping darkness, Jenna caught the faint baying of distant hounds. Only they didn’t sound like any dogs she’d ever heard. Their howls echoed with an unwholesome wetness, as if they keened through blood. Her heart skipped a beat, and the cold cut through her jacket like icy knives.

The second scariest part? Mason was about the most harmless thing in the woods.

“We have to get back to the cabin.” He tugged her hand. “You’re not ready for a fight.”

“Will I be?”

He leveled a steady look on her, his confidence and secrets almost hidden in the near dark. “Yes.”

Jenna had no time to think about that, stumbling as he pulled her back toward the cabin. She hunched into her jacket, feeling naked and undone. They sounded closer now. She smelled them too, a noxious stench that reminded her of graveyards. In her mind’s eye, she could almost see them, hideous skeletal things with flesh barely clinging to bone.

But that was crazy. They were just dogs, some strays that had gone feral.

Shadows flashed in her peripheral vision. She put on more speed, the feeling of life or death hitting her hard. The threat was intuitive, on a soul-deep level, and kicked her flight response into high gear. Dry, brittle branches whipped her face as they ran. They felt like bony fingers clawing at her skin, and she swallowed a scream.

I want to wake up now. Time to wake up. The only reply to her desperation came in the form of Mason’s warm fingers twined with hers.

Are you a fan of apocalyptic romances? Does the idea of a happy ending even at the end of the world work for you as a romance? Leave a comment or question and I’ll give one random winner a book from my backlist and one from Ann’s. Your choice. Good luck!

The winner of the copy of HIGH OCTANE is…Stephanie M! Congrats, Stephanie!

Today’s special guest is none other than the fabulously talented Lisa Renee Jones! I am a huge fan of Lisa’s, and I am eagerly looking forward to the release of her exciting new book, THE LEGEND OF MICHAEL.  Welcome, Lisa!

Hello everyone!

First, thank you to Cynthia for not only inviting me today, but writing the Deadly Series! I don’t know about you guys but I can’t wait for the next two books and I’m thrilled they are coming back to back. Now, if only she would hurry up and get on audible, since I’m an audible fanatic.  Soon, I hope!

2011 is an exciting year for me. I have 5 releases – 3 hot military men for Blaze, and 2 hot military men for Sourcebooks. Monday I received Arcs for High Octane, my March Blaze, and then yesterday I received review Arcs for THE LEGEND OF MICHAEL, my first single title for Sourcebooks. Such appropriate timing to review these two books because both heroes are super alpha! So I thought today I’d share an excerpt for Michael and then give away a copy of High Octane, which won’t be on shelves for another 45 days.  I had to search for a G rated excerpt! Seems Michael and Cassandra from the Legend of Michael have LOTS of PG and higher moments. 🙂

So onward to the excerpt. All you have to do to enter the contest is to tell me what you think is sexy about a military hero and if you feel like it – share one of your favorite military heroes form a book, film/tv, or real life.

Excerpt:

*This isn’t from the final edited version.

Nevada’s AREA 51 was not only the subject of government conspiracy theories; it was now, officially, her new home. A good hour before sunrise, Cassandra Powell pulled into the military parking lot outside the launch pad leading to the top-secret underground facilities where the launch of the Project Zodius GTECH Super Soldier Program was a year under way. The ride from her new on-base housing had been a whopping three minutes, which considering the inhuman hours the military favored, she could deal with. The simplicity of a standard green army skirt and jacket—required despite her contract status—seemed to be working for her as well. The cardboard bed, not so much. It had, however, made a great desk for her laptop and all-night reading.

And considering she was only three days on the job—taking over for the former head of clinical psychology who’d transferred to another department—she had plenty of work to do. The prior department head hadn’t done one fourth of the studies that Cassandra deemed critical to properly evaluate these soldiers. And while the counseling aspect fell outside her clinical role, she wasn’t pleased with what was being offered. She’d certainly be nudging her way into that territory.

Files in hand, she exited her red Volkswagen Beetle, and pushed the door shut with a flick of her hip. She walked all of two steps when the wind whipped into high gear, fluttering her suit jacket at her hips and tearing to pieces the blonde knot tied at her nape.

She shoved at the loose locks of hair and drew to a shocked halt, blinking in disbelief as four men dressed in black fatigues materialized in a rush of hot August wind at the other side of the long parking lot next to the elevator. She drew a breath and forced it out, trying to calm the thunder of her heart pounding her chest. Apparently she wasn’t quite as prepared for the phenomenon of GTECH Super Soldiers as she’d thought she was. Or at least not this thing her piles of paperwork referred to as “wind-walking.” It was one thing to be inhumanly strong and fast, even to be immune to human disease, but to be able to travel with the wind was downright spooky—and suddenly, so was the dark parking lot as the four men disappeared into the elevator.

Eager to get inside, Cassandra started walking, but made it all of two steps before another man appeared beside the elevator, this time with no wind as warning. Good grief, she hadn’t read about that stealthy little trick yet. Special Forces soldiers were already called lethal weapons, but these men, this one in particular, were taking it to a whole new level.

Still a good distance away from the building, Cassandra slowed her pace, hoping to go unnoticed, but she wasn’t so lucky. The soldier punched the elevator button and then turned and waved her forward. Oh no. No. No. Not ready to meet anyone yet. Not until she had a few of her ducks in a row. Cassandra quickly juggled her files and snagged her cell from her purse as an excuse to decline joining him, holding it up, and waving him off. He hesitated a few moments as the doors opened before he finally stepped inside and disappeared.

Cassandra started walking instantly, determined to get to the darned elevator before another soldier appeared. By the time she was inside, she had her file on wind-walking open—a good distraction from the entire underground, bomb-shelter-style workplace that made her more than a little uneasy.

Absorbed in her reading, head down, Cassandra darted out of the elevator the instant it opened, only to run smack into a rock-hard chest. She gasped, paperwork flew everywhere, and strong hands slid around her arms, steadying her from a fall. It was then that she looked up to find herself staring into the most gorgeous pair of crystal blue eyes she’d ever seen in her life.

She swallowed hard and noticed his long raven hair tied at the back of his neck, rather than the standard buzz cut—a sure indicator he was Special Ops. He could be one of the two hundred GTECH soldiers stationed at the base. A Wind-walker, she thought, still in awe of what she’d seen above ground.

“I’m sorry. I wasn’t watching where I was…” She lost the final word, her mouth dry as she suddenly realized her legs were pressed intimately to his desert fatigues, and her conservative, military-issue skirt had managed to work its way halfway up her thigh. “Oh!”

She quickly took a step backwards, righting her skirt in a flurry of panicked movement. Three days on the job, and already she was putting on a show. She pressed her hand to her forehead. “I know better than to read while walking. I hope I didn’t hurt you.” He arched a dark brow as her gaze swept all six-foot- plus of incredibly hot man, all lethal muscle and mayhem, and knew that was unlikely. She laughed at the ridiculous statement, feeling uncharacteristically nervous. She was five four in her bare feet—well, on her tip toes—and she bet this man towered over her by nearly a foot. “Okay. I didn’t hurt you. But, well, I’m still sorry.”

He stared down at her, his gaze steady, unblinking, the chiseled lines of high cheekbones and a square jaw, expressionless. Except deep in those strikingly blue eyes, she saw a tiny flicker of what she thought was amusement. “I’m not sorry,” he said, bending down to pick up her files.

She blinked at the odd response, tilting her head and then bending down to face him. “What do you mean?” she asked, a lock of her blonde hair falling haphazardly across her brow, free from the clip that was supposed to be holding it in place. “You’re not sorry?”

He gathered the last of her files, then said, “I’m not sorry you ran into me. Have coffee with me.”

It wasn’t a question. In fact, it almost bordered on an order. And damn, if she didn’t like the way he gave that near order. Her heart fluttered at the unexpected invitation. “I don’t know if that is appropriate,” she said, thinking of her new position. She stalled. “I don’t even know your name.”

The elevator behind them dinged open, and Kelly Peterson, assistant director of science and medicine for Project Zodius, appeared. “You’re early, Cassandra,” she said, amusement lifting her tone. “Morning, Michael.” She continued on her way, as if she found nothing significant, or abnormal, about Cassandra being sprawled across the hallway floor with a hot soldier by her side.

Cassandra popped to her feet, appalled she’d made such a spectacle of herself. Her sexy Special Ops soldier followed. “Now you know my name,” he said, and this time, his firm, way-too-tempting mouth hinted at a lift. Not a smile, a lift. God… it was sexy. “Michael Taylor.”

“Cassandra,” she said, unable to say the last name, dreading it more with this man than with the many others she’d been introduced to in the past few days. What was she supposed to say? Hi. I’m the daughter of the man who changed your life forever by injecting you with alien DNA without telling you first, and then claimed it was to save you from an enemy biological threat? Now you’re a GTECH Super Soldier for what we think is the rest of your life, but who knows what that really means long-term for you. But hey, I promise I’m one of the good guys, here to ensure you aren’t used and abused just because you’re a macho, kickass, secret government weapon? And did I mention I’m nothing like my father?

“Cassandra Powell,” he said, handing her the files, leaning close, the warmth of his body blanketing her in sizzling awareness. “I know who you are. And no, that doesn’t scare me away. I never run away from anything I want.” He leaned back, fixing her in another one of those dreamy blue stares. “So how about that coffee?”

She nearly swallowed her tongue at his directness, but, a true general’s daughter, she managed to recover quickly, remembering her duty in a painfully responsible fashion. “I… don’t think that’s a good idea.”

He studied her a moment before stepping into the now open elevator doors. “I’ll ask again,” he said as he turned to face her. She found herself lost in those addictive crystal blue eyes—eyes that had promised nothing, but somehow, promised everything—until the steel doors shut between them.

Cassandra inhaled, the scent of him still lingering in the air, and she bit her bottom lip. Too bad she’d sworn off soldiers years ago, because he was one heck of a man. Oh yeah, he was. But she’d seen her mother fret and worry over a man who was gone too often and might never return, right up to the day she’d died two years before, and Cassandra already had her father to worry about. So why was she wondering when he would “ask again”?

***

Update: The winner of STRONGER THAN SIN is…Jolene Allcock. Congrats, Jolene!

First of all I want to thank Cynthia for letting me share some time on her blog! I’m Caridad Pineiro and I write paranormal romance and romantic suspense and a blend of the two. Cynthia and I are part of the Dangerous Women Writers and it’s a pleasure to be able to know such a warm, loving, giving and talented woman! But as you may know, Cynthia has a dark side that comes out in her wickedly wonderful novels and that’s what we’re here to start celebrating as she counts down to the launch of DEADLY HEAT with this MY DEADLY VALENTINE blog special.

What is it as readers and writers that makes us love that dark side? That makes us our characters undertake oftentimes deadly pursuits?

Call me a sucker for true love, but to me that is a prize that is definitely worth pursuing no matter the cost. I take that maxim to heart as a writer and think of all kinds of ways to torture my hero and heroine as they travel the treacherous path to Happily-Ever-After land. Somehow surviving against all those insurmountable odds makes the reward at the end sweeter, doesn’t it?

I think readers respond to that journey on which we take them, experiencing the lows when it seems as if everything will be lost and the highs as the hero and heroine somehow triumph over every baddie and obstacle in order to finally be able to declare their love.

And I love creating what I hope are some memorable baddies.

In AZTEC GOLD, the villainess is an ancient Aztec demi-goddess who can only be killed by something as black as her own heart. The demi-goddess has been terrorizing the Mexican jungle surrounding her temple for centuries until she’s confronted by the hero and heroine as they try to rescue their friends and find true love along the way.

In STRONGER THAN SIN, the villains are human and yet much scarier. Somehow dealing with people who don’t have a care for life is much more difficult to handle than monsters who don’t know any better. In this case, it’s a black ops group taking advantage of a hero who has been genetically engineered to have super-strength, but who is slowly turning to bone.

Deadly pursuits. In each of them, the hero and heroine will risk life and limb for each other and for the loved ones around them. We will cry and our hearts will clench as they seem to fail. We will cheer and be uplifted as love ultimately triumphs over evil and we have our Happily-Ever-After.

Sometimes people ask me why I like being a writer and I think the answer is simple: I love being able to write stories where love makes all things possible. Even if it takes leaving a pile of bodies along the way.

Thanks so much again for having me here, Cynthia! Thanks to all of you for dropping by. Now that you know a little more about what makes me tick and what I love in stories, what do you love? What really makes you bite your nails? What brings you the most joy at the end of the book?

I’d love to know.

Thanks so much to Caridad for coming by!  I’ll pick one lucky commenter to receive a copy of Caridad’s wonderful book,  STRONGER THAN SIN (I’ll ship it to the winner via Amazon.com).

Scroll down to see the Deadly Valentine posts!

I love prologues. I think they are a great way to take readers right into a character’s early life. You can dive  into the action with a prologue. Reveal a pivotal piece of character development, show a great turning point–all in a few early pages.

When I wrote the Deadly books (DEADLY FEAR, DEADLY HEAT, and DEADLY LIES), I deliberately started each story with a prologue. The prologues all show very dark moments in the pasts of the characters. In DEADLY FEAR, the prologue is told in the POV of Keith Hyde, the guy who creates the Serial Services Division in the FBI.

In DEADLY HEAT, I decided to tell the prologue from a different character’s POV…for this story, I wanted to start on the villain’s point of view.  As I wrote the prologue,  I wondered…are some people born evil? Or do people become monsters as they grow?

***

DEADLY HEAT–PROLOGUE

The fire came at him, fast and hot. The orange flames licked across the floor, climbed the walls, and rolled in hungry waves.

The screams filled his ears. His mother’s cries. She called for him, over and over, but he didn’t answer her. Couldn’t. The flames and smoke had stolen his breath, and all he could do was watch.

So beautiful. The flames danced for him. Danced and whispered. Crackled and spit. He couldn’t look away. Didn’t want to.

Smoke billowed around him, trapping him in a fog. His fingers curled tight over his precious prize.  Won’t let go. Won’t ever let go.

The fire touched him, biting his arm, but he didn’t cry out.

He just watched.

And his mother stopped screaming. Just like his dad had stopped. He’d stopped long ago…

The flames were bigger. Rolling toward him now. Faster, faster. So hot. His lips began to curl.

Then the monsters came. Giant beasts with long noses, robot eyes, and tubes shooting from their mouths.

One grabbed him, slapping at his left arm, and he screamed.

But the monster didn’t let him go.

Water shot at the flames. Cold, icy water that hit his skin.

The monster’s arms were tight around him.  And then the monster ran, taking him right through the thick smoke and letting him see those dancing flames again.

Again. More.

The fresh air hit him.  He choked at the first taste and the monster was there, always there, but yanking off a mask and it was—

A man. “The kid’s alive!  Get me some oxygen! Get the damn EMTs over here!”

More hands. Touching. Stroking. Hurting. Another man shoved a mask over his face. No, don’t want it, don’t want—

The mask pressed too hard against his nose and mouth.

The same man rubbed something ice-cold on his arm right over the fire’s kiss. Then the guy wrapped bandages around him and slapped tape around the edges.

They put him on a stretcher. As they hauled him toward an ambulance, he saw his house. Firefighters stood on the roof, swinging with their axes, sending fire and smoke billowing into the sky.

The windows at the front of his home exploded, and giant shards of glass flew onto the porch.

Firefighters ran out of the doorway, yelling. One had his mother in his arms.

She wasn’t moving and her body…

He glanced down at his hand, still clenched so tight around his prize.

“It’s gonna be okay, boy. You’re gonna be fine…”  This came from the man who’d pulled him out. A big guy, with red cheeks and dark green eyes. “You’re safe now.”

But his mom wasn’t. Neither was his dad.

A shout came, an order for backup, and the man turned away.

His fingers uncurled.

The match lay in his hand. The red tip was black now.

“Got to be arson, sir…the way the fire is spreading…accelerant…”  Another firefighter, talking quickly to a guy with a big radio.

He let the match slide from his fingers.  It fell to the ground and sank into the grass.

“All right, kid.” The EMT was back. Looking pale, tense. “It’s time to get you to the hos—”

“My mom’s dead.”

The man swallowed. “I’m sorry.”

He looked at that fire. So bright now.  “My dad, too?”  He already knew.

“We got a call in to your grandparents—”

He didn’t cry.  Didn’t blink.

“We’re gettin’ you to the hospital.”  A woman appeared at his side. They lifted him up and put him in the back of the ambulance. The doors slammed closed, shutting out the fire.

But I wanted to watch. His lips tightened.

He looked at his palm. He could see the black marks from the match.

The siren screamed on.

And he smiled.