tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8571805745754218572024-03-13T03:44:32.742-04:00Vintage Vonnie Vonnie Davis ~ Romance Authorhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07360480832587538895noreply@blogger.comBlogger557125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-857180574575421857.post-9202473427212365572017-06-07T09:42:00.000-04:002017-06-07T16:50:53.143-04:00Some Visual Branding<span style="font-size: large;">As with all writers, my name is my brand. I hope my name denotes heartfelt emotion, humor, well-written stories, and, quite often, some heart-pounding action and suspense.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">I recently decided my Scottish Bear Shifters, formally known as Highlander's Beloved, will continue into other parts of Scotland, as well. These will be self-published books. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">To tie them all together, I needed a visual brand. Enter Farah Evers who took the bits and pieces of info I gave her and created a logo I'll now have put on every bear shifter book. The navy and green Matheson tartan is also within the circle.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">I really love it and hope readers will soon come to recognize the bear in the circle as belonging to me.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">As for my contemporary and suspenseful romances, well, my name will have to do it there. In time, I hope more people recognize it, too.</span></div>
<br />Vonnie Davis ~ Romance Authorhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07360480832587538895noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-857180574575421857.post-41390507819654600702017-05-21T23:11:00.001-04:002017-05-22T07:24:53.613-04:00In Less Than a Week I'll Turn 69.......and I still don't know what I wanna be when I grow up.<br />
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Pitiful, isn't it?<br />
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Maybe I should clarify that by saying, I still don't know what I want to write. Most romance writers have a sub-genre they stick to. Not this old chick. I tend to flip-flop like an ungirdled ass in a pair of stretch pants. 'Nuff said there. You get the picture. <br />
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I'm not poking fun at the woman. If she'd have short, red hair she could easily be me...if I'd have nerve enough to step out of the house like that.<br />
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Back to writing. I'm going to try my best to stick to contemporary and bear shifter romances. I think. See, an idea might sneak into my mind. Or a dream might slip into my unconscious some night. Or I might overhear a snippet of conversation that snags my attention.<br />
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My mind is like a clump of chewing gum and ideas, especially odd ones, stick. And they won't unstick unless I write about them. The problem is the ideas aren't always contemporary or paranormal in nature. So there goes my plan to be a two-dimensional writer.<br />
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At least that's my story and I'm sticking to it!<br />
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How about you? <b><span style="color: #990000;">As a writer</span></b>, do you tend to write in one vein? <b><span style="color: blue;">As a reader</span></b>, do you follow a writer you enjoy no matter what types of books he or she writes?Vonnie Davis ~ Romance Authorhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07360480832587538895noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-857180574575421857.post-7188407681373969512017-05-16T21:38:00.000-04:002017-05-16T21:38:27.298-04:00The Amazing Mackenzie Crowne Presents-...<span class="_5yl5"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<i>To Win Her Smile</i><span><span>, Players #5 is set to release on July 18th. Throughout this series, these larger-than-life athletes and their ladies have made readers laugh, cry, and sigh while producing some heady steam as they searched for their individual HEAs.</span></span><br />
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<span><span>Like </span></span>the first four books, <i>To Win Her Smile</i> can be read as a standalone, but Wyatt and Piper’s lighthearted tale is the perfect conclusion to the series. Seriously, when a story begins with a superstitious pro quarterback accidentally breaking the nose of a down-on-her-luck baroness, you know you’re in for an off-beat, wild ride.<br /><span></span><br />
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<span>To Win Her Smile is available for preorder. Reserve your copy now @ </span><a href="https://l.facebook.com/l.php?u=http%3A%2F%2Fwww.ekensingtonbooks.com%2Fbook.aspx%2F35098&h=ATOLnUVoqcZelPCIbhUxVvO6z2TI0-Msw49JEITCypTz-SnjX8uhXoUeIKl__1s3RGbKFcsIsk7dgeqFoJhHeSkD1Esl4tjKzwUaSIbvOEQZRJBMi3R-eAJ0JHxaUBCo13ayFCZ2Tw" rel="nofollow" target="_blank">http://www.ekensingtonbooks.com/book.aspx/35098</a><br />
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<br /><br /><span style="color: magenta; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-large;"><b>Sometimes love and luck collide . . .</b></span></div>
<span></span><span><br /></span><span>When sultry British Baroness Piper Darrow falls on desperate times, she needs a diversion—and cash. As a talented photographer, she jumps at the chance to travel to the U.S. for a Manhattan Marauders football event. But she gets more than she bargained for when buff quarterback Wyatt Hunter’s errant pass lands…in her face. And when it results in Wyatt’s comeback of a lifetime, the superstitious athlete is convinced Piper is his good luck charm . . .</span><br />
<span></span><br /><span>With his sights on the Super Bowl, Wyatt will do anything necessary to keep Piper close. The fact that she’s a feast for the eyes is a bonus. And as they get closer, he discovers that beneath her proper English surface is a sweet, sexy seductress. Soon the notorious playboy finds himself genuinely smitten, and surprisingly open to love—until his powerful family uncovers something about Piper that threatens to shatter his trust. Now he’ll have to decide whether to team up with his fears, or his heart. </span><br />
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</span><br />Vonnie Davis ~ Romance Authorhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07360480832587538895noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-857180574575421857.post-29206208489092475582017-04-29T00:04:00.000-04:002017-04-29T00:04:18.328-04:00Once More With Extra Feeling<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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I thought long and hard about revamping the Red Hand Conspiracy Series. I had such a good time writing it, yet the series didn't sell well. Was it because of the titles I'd chosen? I'm not the best at that. My recent editors always change them, and I'm not always pleased with their choices. But what do I know?<br />
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Could it have been the covers? I loved the covers The Wild Rose Press created for the series. <br />
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Could I chalk it up to my being relatively unknown? Heck, I'm still a minor blip on the romance writers' scale.<br />
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Yet, the fact remains I loved those books. They took me back to Paris, my favorite city to the magical times Calvin and I spent there. I'd gotten the rights back, so I could spruce them up and freshen the technology used. Add and delete as needed.<br />
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What fun I had doing it.<br />
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I changed the series name from the Red Hand Conspiracy to Paris Intrigue. I self-published book one on April 25th.<br />
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Book two releases on June 13th</div>
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Book three will come out sometime the end of August</div>
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You know I write bear shifter books and contemporary romance. I'd stopped thinking of myself as a</div>
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romantic suspense author. Now I have to add that sub-genre to what I write. I'm not really known for suspense. Readers have to wonder if I can effectively write it. I like to think I can...or hope so, anyhow. <br />
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What is the series about?<br />
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The first two books contain American female travelers in Paris who attract the attention of Red Hand, a terrorist group. They're put under the protective care of French counterterrorism agents as they also try to find and apprehend gang members. The last book is about Niko's sister who is attracted to a German jazz saxophone player who is also a spy searching for the Red Hand member who killed his brother.<br />
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These books contain fast-paced action, smoldering passion, humorous situations, and family closeness. I hope readers give them a chance.</div>
Vonnie Davis ~ Romance Authorhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07360480832587538895noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-857180574575421857.post-81489186070317320202017-03-15T18:46:00.000-04:002017-03-15T18:46:08.816-04:00There are Days When There's a Direct Disconnect Between My Mind and the Computer Screen.I'm in the process of updating a book that was originally published as <i>MONA LISA'S ROOM</i>, a romantic suspense set mostly in Paris. It was released roughly five years ago, so any technology mentioned is out-dated. Something I need to correct. Someone asked me about my lack of humor in the book. Would I be adding some?<br />
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I hadn't thought of it.<br />
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Maybe that's why the book didn't sell. I'd blamed it on the title. I'm renaming it <i>NIKO: LICENSED TO KILL. </i>And if I could think of a good place to insert humor, by golly, I'd do it because I love laughing when I write. Especially if tears of mirth blur my seeing the computer screen.<br />
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Over a week ago, when I laid down for my afternoon nap--to rest my eyes, now. Not because I'm old, mind you. This idea came to me. I could see it happening in my mind. Boy, oh boy, was it funny. I laid there and laughed until the bed shook. This was it! The bit of humor the book needed.<br />
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I wrote the chapter leading up to it--a blend of the original chapter two and new segments setting up THE scene. I'm telling you, I couldn't wait to start chapter three. It was going to be hilarious. My readers would love it!<br />
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Today was the day and I was out of bed two hours earlier than usual, eager to get started. I wrote what I had seen in my mind.<br />
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Not one chuckle.<br />
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I rewrote it. Changed normal verbs to more powerful ones. Threw in more description to slow down the pace.<br />
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Meh.<br />
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How could this be? It had been so darn funny in my mind. I couldn't think of it without breaking into hysterics. Reading it on the computer screen barely made me smile. Maybe I was being too hard on myself. You know, reality just couldn't live up to my expectations<br />
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Obviously, between my mind and my fingertips, there's been a great disconnect.<br />
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Calvin read it and smiled at a few places. Didn't laugh. Smiled. I sent it to my CP. She told me it was funny as hell. Okay, I feel a little better. I'll move on. In a week I'll go back and read over it again. No doubt make some more changes because...you know...a writer is never satisfied.Vonnie Davis ~ Romance Authorhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07360480832587538895noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-857180574575421857.post-3848377156992926512017-02-28T13:30:00.000-05:002017-02-28T14:06:22.841-05:00The Saga of the Remote Control<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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I'm sure you've gathered by now how I adore my husband. Here's a picture of him reading to a classroom of elementary students. He's been retired from teaching high school English for sixteen years, but misses encouraging students. He is by nature "a salesman of learning." He also knows many children have never been read to by a man, especially a man of color, and he wants them to have that experience. So, he visits elementary schools here in Lynchburg and reads to them and talks about the importance of learning. For some of them, hearing this from a man is something new. I love how he cares about children, young and old alike.<br />
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But, just like all men, Calvin has his quirks. Take the remote control, for example. I mean we've got a gazillion around here. There are remote controls for every TV--including the one in the garage, every blue-ray player--including the one in the garage, every stereo--including the one in the garage, every ceiling fan--including...well, hell, take my word for it, he's got a lot.<br />
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I almost hate to go shopping with him. The last time we went looking for a new coffee maker, he got a glazed look in his eyes as he picked up box after box. "Do you think any of these come with remote controls?"<br />
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<span style="color: #0b5394; font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><i><b>What is it with men and those "buttony" gadgets anyhow?</b></i></span></div>
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Where his addiction is the worst is in his recliner in front of the TV in the living room. He has the remote for the television, the Direct TV, and the blue-ray all on his lap or on the arm of his chair. Because, you know, he NEEDS them nearby.</div>
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Now these remotes have a way of ending up in odd places. Why? Because DH hates to part with all of them when he goes to do something. They're like his security blanket, only smaller and with buttons. I've found one on the tub beside the commode. In the ice maker tub in the freezer. In the mailbox. I'd have loved to witness the mail lady's expression on that one. And beside the cookie jar. Enough said.<br />
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So, Calvin decided to secure the remotes to his recliner. He took pieces of yarn and tied one end of each around every remote and the other end around the recliner's handle since he never reclines. Well, before long, these yarn strings resembled tangled fishing wire. He went to the hardware store and bought thin rope. <br />
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I never said a word.<br />
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He is, after all, the King of Remotes in this house. <br />
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He tried tying the ropes to the remote, but couldn't tie it tight enough so he glued it. The glue didn't hold. Back to the hardware store for stronger glue. He brought home six--SIX, mind you!--different kinds. <br />
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I never said a word.<br />
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None of them held the rope in place. He went to his tool chest in the garage and rummaged until he found a roll of electrical tape. It held for one day.<br />
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Not to be bested by a remote and a piece of rope, Calvin took the whole works out to the garage where much cursing and slamming of drawers followed. Suddenly, there was silence. He walked in, chest puffed out. "I think I've found the solution to the problem. Come see."<br />
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I followed him out. "First I dipped the rope into the glue and then placed the tape over the gooey mess. I've got it cranked tight in this until it all dries..."<br />
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My chin dropped.<br />
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The rope, glue, and tape did hold. The remote's buttons, however, were permanently smashed flat. <br />
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<i></i><i></i><span style="color: #cc0000;">Men!</span></h2>
Vonnie Davis ~ Romance Authorhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07360480832587538895noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-857180574575421857.post-84138472214265415542017-02-21T22:44:00.000-05:002017-02-22T12:13:30.160-05:00To Cuss or Not to Cuss--How Will My Characters Talk?<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Sometimes I worry I do my readers a disservice. They never know what they're going to get from me. Depending on my characters, language can run the gamut from one or two "dirty words" to more "F-bombs" dropped than gunfire in a war.<br />
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So, why the difference?<br />
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Why don't I write all my books in the same language style?<br />
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<span style="color: #e06666; font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: x-large;"><b>In short, it's my characters.</b></span> </div>
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As I write their stories, some characters tell me they wouldn't use that word so I clean up the language. Yes, I hear voices. Others, like my hero in a book currently with an editor, have no qualms about using the F-word frequently. The hero in the book I'm writing now speaks with less spice.<br />
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But why? Aren't I the writer? Aren't I the one putting the words on the computer screen? Yes. Yes, I am. I am also in my character's head. If I'm striving for deep point of view, I have to mentally become them. Yup...there are times, for hours a day, I might think and write like a man. I have to act and react in an Alpha male manner. Use my pretend hunk swagger. <br />
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If I choose not to listen to my character's directions, he or she wakes me up at night. Or preys on my mind during the day long after I've moved onto another chapter.<br />
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Not all authors think the way I do. And that's okay. They don't have to deal with how my mind works. I do. So one time you might read a book of mine with little swearing and other times the language will make your hair curl. It's my characters' fault.<br />
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Vonnie Davis ~ Romance Authorhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07360480832587538895noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-857180574575421857.post-44758711852521075872017-02-13T22:22:00.000-05:002017-02-13T22:22:10.498-05:00Happy Valentine's Day to Romance Lovers<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Valentine's Day has changed a lot since I was in elementary school. It was a day all the girls approached with great glee. A class art project was always to make and decorate our card mailboxes. I remember one year, a few of us got creative and made large heart-shaped mail bags to tape to our desks.<br />
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Little boys gave valentine cards only to the prettiest girls in the class and to each other, of course. I always hoped I'd get one from a boy, but alas...<br />
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By the time I was a mother with children in grade school, teachers sent home a list of names of everyone in the class so no one was excluded. I understood the pain of exclusion and appreciated their thoughtfulness.<br />
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In high school, my kids gave and received roses to each other. Red, of course, meant love. Pink said I like you. And white meant friendship. In my sons' senior years, they each carried home nearly a dozen red roses. I threatened to buy them each a chastity belt. Of course, my words fell on deaf macho ears.<br />
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Years later, as a divorced woman I detested the approach of Valentine's Day. Female co-workers bragged about what they were wearing to go out for dinner and wondered how many dozen of roses they'd get...or jewelry...or champagne. <br />
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I survived with Chinese take-out and a good romance book. Now I've got my snuggler and don't need all the extra trappings. For us, the feeling of Valentine's in year round. Our last words to each other before we fall asleep is always, "<i><span style="color: red;"><b>Je t'aime</b></span></i>." <br />
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Whether you celebrate or not, happy heart day this week. Hugs to you all.<br />
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<br />Vonnie Davis ~ Romance Authorhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07360480832587538895noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-857180574575421857.post-50886305223405606902017-02-01T21:36:00.002-05:002017-02-02T12:41:51.396-05:00Effie's Coming Back!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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She's been the pink glue that's held my Highlander Beloved Series together. Pink-haired, pink-clad, cra-cra granny Effie. A Virginia transplant to the Highlands of Scotland. A hippie from Woodstock. A magical force. A real pip. And everyone who read the series loved her.<br />
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She's had many moments in each book. It didn't take her long to make her mark in book one. Scene one, in fact...<br />
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She wore pink pelican bedroom slippers, called baffies in Scotland. Johnson & Johnson's Baby Powder was her perfume of choice. And no color pleased her more than pink, unless it was the color of skin under a Scott's kilt. But we'd best not go there. <br />
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We found out in book two she was a witch, a protector of those weaker and in need of help and protection. <br />
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In book three, she imitated Aretha Franklin singing "Respect," using a dildo as a microphone.<br />
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Now, in book four, she's back in full-force. She's conned her younger granddaughter to come to Scotland and she's got matchmaking on her mind. Who? Effie's new husband's nephew--Dr. Thane Matheson, who's not ready to halt his women-chasing ways even if his bear claims Willow Munro is the one for Thane.<br />
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We all know Effie loves a challenge.<br />
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<br />Vonnie Davis ~ Romance Authorhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07360480832587538895noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-857180574575421857.post-90448774520805332802017-01-28T10:33:00.000-05:002017-01-28T10:33:37.660-05:00I Was Busted by Vonnie DavisI've been suffering with a virus, severe cold, grunge for over two weeks. It can't be the flu because I had a flu shot back in early October. Right? So the fever, chills, sore throat, body aches, no energy, unending cough, and runny nose are just a "bug" that has outlived ten-days of antibiotics. <br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4AEugDRfVVu7y-4fADs4oVWnqLysL8QyEM7HZ81FyLDz6s8LTuLfJpDwHc6yZWqe0moH7zWBSc3SMCX2UUYMa_NlrMW-5R0mM9KeEIxII3PevEBOat9b_Oi9Q3fDhS-qybZc-3U0J0hc/s1600/thYQQ2RXOZ.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4AEugDRfVVu7y-4fADs4oVWnqLysL8QyEM7HZ81FyLDz6s8LTuLfJpDwHc6yZWqe0moH7zWBSc3SMCX2UUYMa_NlrMW-5R0mM9KeEIxII3PevEBOat9b_Oi9Q3fDhS-qybZc-3U0J0hc/s1600/thYQQ2RXOZ.jpg" /></a></div>
I can still recall the day I went to Walmart to pick up my $138. bottle of freaking antibiotics. I coughed out half a lung at the counter as I exclaimed, "What? What...are these pills made of? Gold, or what?" <br />
<br />
I coughed out the other half of my lung in the ice cream aisle. Don't judge. First off, it was ice cream, y'all. And secondly, I was in a shocked delirium over the cost of the drugs.<br />
<br />
Well, both the ice cream and drugs are gone and I still feel like crap. I'm still coughing and have chills. But I had to act like I felt okay because my youngest son and his wife were coming to town. You see, my grandson and the rest of his wrestling team from MIT were flying to Virginia from Mass. to wrestle in a 20 team tournament at a local college. Bonus for this grandma...I'd get to see one of my grandkids.<br />
<br />
Yay me!!!! I didn't care how crappy I felt.<br />
<br />
At one point, my son moved behind me and wrapped his arms around my shoulders. "I know you, mom. You're not fooling me. You feel like hell. Go home. Go to bed."<br />
<br />
"Don't think you can order me around. I can still beat your behind."<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgN1hXKfDZrZuNmmIHNSifngOHoEx49s4g7izwAs3yGbwRcMU2ykneSVzHPZzCirTGN2TvrJPXDbxf4AR9tvUFiQeVAVh3IRs3tgPCsEW-OvxrcgfD5y4QHvf6y0PeMr_uVNMxbVK_RxUo/s1600/tina+and+mike.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgN1hXKfDZrZuNmmIHNSifngOHoEx49s4g7izwAs3yGbwRcMU2ykneSVzHPZzCirTGN2TvrJPXDbxf4AR9tvUFiQeVAVh3IRs3tgPCsEW-OvxrcgfD5y4QHvf6y0PeMr_uVNMxbVK_RxUo/s320/tina+and+mike.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
"That's one of the things I love about you, mom. You always were a dreamer." Then he dug his chin back and forth into my shoulder until I growled his name. I was rewarded with his "mom giggle." <i>Yeah, I still know how to push your buttons.</i><br />
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The kid might not live to see 45.</div>
<br />Vonnie Davis ~ Romance Authorhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07360480832587538895noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-857180574575421857.post-48986396740644161782017-01-23T12:12:00.000-05:002017-01-24T11:03:12.082-05:00I Feel All Blogged OutSix years ago when my first book released, I had a blog tour. I did the same for many subsequent books. Answered all the lovely comments and questions. The last few book tours, set up by my publisher, had zero comments. Except for my typical thank you to the person hosting me that day, no one said a word. <br />
<br />
Even the crickets were silent.<br />
<br />
Did that mean no one was reading the blogs? Looking at all my pretty promo?<br />
<br />
Has everyone turned their backs on blogging or reading blogs?<br />
<br />
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Frankly, I'm running out of ideas. I blog less and less here at Vintage Vonnie. My time is more consumed with writing. I mainly keep my blog open in case a writer friend needs a place to promote. All the while, I hear more authors are closing down theirs. I just can't bring myself to close Vintage Vonnie.</div>
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There are times I think I could blog simply on the Davis household and entertain you for a few<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh64_i8D5i6fS_dicX_L4unjasTTbEk3PUV-6UekreSL05Vjaezkmg7r0CMvIRAFsIjsQYwzSQWyLkxMcU711I0qQNzI81bo3g28f_RkKc-o8dwCdfrGy8FHXEyqfKW7BKnS5XtKMXD3l8/s1600/thEDRGXFTW.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="132" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh64_i8D5i6fS_dicX_L4unjasTTbEk3PUV-6UekreSL05Vjaezkmg7r0CMvIRAFsIjsQYwzSQWyLkxMcU711I0qQNzI81bo3g28f_RkKc-o8dwCdfrGy8FHXEyqfKW7BKnS5XtKMXD3l8/s200/thEDRGXFTW.jpg" width="200" /></a></div>
minutes. <br />
<br />
Like today. Calvin lost his glasses. He woke up and they weren't on his nightstand. They weren't behind or beneath the bed or among the covers or in the drawers of his nightstand. To stop him from tearing the place apart...I mean, can a man look for anything without items flying through the air? Tell me! I went on the hunt, too, just to save my sanity and the condition of the place.<br />
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I found them in the shower.</div>
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They were propped between his and my bottles of shampoo. Go figure.</div>
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Have a great week folks. Stay dry and healthy.</div>
<br />Vonnie Davis ~ Romance Authorhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07360480832587538895noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-857180574575421857.post-88442367486119390512016-12-08T23:19:00.001-05:002016-12-09T00:08:39.725-05:00Using Body Language to Show Emotions<br />
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<span style="color: black; font-family: "arial" , "sans-serif"; margin: 0px;">I'm one of those authors who have a small group of body movements I include in my writing. I have a larger list I keep on file. I just need to refer to it more often. </span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-family: "arial" , "sans-serif"; margin: 0px;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: left;">
<span style="color: black; font-family: "arial" , "sans-serif"; margin: 0px;">All body language must be
considered in context, but if I've set my scene correctly and established my
characters' good and bad points, a little body language can help add life to the story. I'll share a few with you.</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWCjiioM2JAlCg5RXbV-2cbqptsDQtDijvvKCIhln8eM36FZ9DtYXVIF73ajswV6cZpXaHKh02ks6-Bty419p7KqpYFgpJ8wgwkwMi2rO8m6gitr1pGfUTPc_cN0FxDiM9xH0znSVCpk4/s1600/Angry.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWCjiioM2JAlCg5RXbV-2cbqptsDQtDijvvKCIhln8eM36FZ9DtYXVIF73ajswV6cZpXaHKh02ks6-Bty419p7KqpYFgpJ8wgwkwMi2rO8m6gitr1pGfUTPc_cN0FxDiM9xH0znSVCpk4/s1600/Angry.jpg" /></a></div>
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</span>
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<b><span style="font-family: "arial" , "sans-serif"; margin: 0px;">Anger
</span></b></div>
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<div style="line-height: normal; margin: 0px;">
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "sans-serif"; margin: 0px;">Anger
is one expression of fight-or-flight mode -- an automatic, instinctive reaction
to a threat. In many cases, there is an underlying fear of being harmed. Thanks
to autonomic nervous system arousal, the heart rate increases, pupils dilate,
and the face may flush. Other signs of anger: </span></div>
<br />
<div style="line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 0px 48px; text-indent: -0.25in;">
<span style="font-family: "wingdings"; margin: 0px;"> </span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "sans-serif"; margin: 0px;">Balling the fists </span></div>
<br />
<div style="line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 0px 48px; text-indent: -0.25in;">
<span style="font-family: "wingdings"; margin: 0px;"> </span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "sans-serif"; margin: 0px;">Crossing the arms
tightly </span></div>
<br />
<div style="line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 0px 48px; text-indent: -0.25in;">
<span style="font-family: "wingdings"; margin: 0px;"> </span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "sans-serif"; margin: 0px;">Clenching the fists
once arms are crossed </span></div>
<br />
<div style="line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 0px 48px; text-indent: -0.25in;">
<span style="font-family: "wingdings"; margin: 0px;"> </span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "sans-serif"; margin: 0px;">Tight-lipped smile </span></div>
<br />
<div style="line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 0px 48px; text-indent: -0.25in;">
<span style="font-family: "wingdings"; margin: 0px;"> </span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "sans-serif"; margin: 0px;">Clenched teeth </span></div>
<br />
<div style="line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 0px 48px; text-indent: -0.25in;">
<span style="font-family: "wingdings"; margin: 0px;"> </span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "sans-serif"; margin: 0px;">Shaking a finger like
a club </span></div>
<br />
<div style="line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 0px 48px; text-indent: -0.25in;">
<span style="font-family: "wingdings"; margin: 0px;"> </span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "sans-serif"; margin: 0px;">Stabbing a finger at
someone </span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRP2VpHUIhDfN5tSkyJsHGQE9PR81EDcKcXh7DcZia-NGMrL7_DcX3G9MFlMwbw1U6QjwHWQ-N9xhev9OOu58w1QWsHn3Qw2DN24Jx0fD8PVTAlLTAt8RhZB_yHdzfwVe2BfvOcdtijBY/s1600/thE8UENPF7.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRP2VpHUIhDfN5tSkyJsHGQE9PR81EDcKcXh7DcZia-NGMrL7_DcX3G9MFlMwbw1U6QjwHWQ-N9xhev9OOu58w1QWsHn3Qw2DN24Jx0fD8PVTAlLTAt8RhZB_yHdzfwVe2BfvOcdtijBY/s200/thE8UENPF7.jpg" width="133" /></a></div>
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<b><span style="font-family: "arial" , "sans-serif"; margin: 0px;">Attraction
</span></b></div>
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<div style="line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 0px 48px; text-indent: -0.25in;">
<span style="font-family: "wingdings"; margin: 0px;"> </span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "sans-serif"; margin: 0px;">Pupils dilate </span></div>
<br />
<div style="line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 0px 48px; text-indent: -0.25in;">
<span style="font-family: "wingdings"; margin: 0px;"> </span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "sans-serif"; margin: 0px;">Women will cross and
uncross legs to draw attention to them </span></div>
<br />
<div style="line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 0px 48px; text-indent: -0.25in;">
<span style="font-family: "wingdings"; margin: 0px;"> </span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "sans-serif"; margin: 0px;">Mirroring - (usually
unconsciously) mimicking the other person’s body language </span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdHf8z7kCrozQVXNAr9QORyTv7BD8ddjIsPNHzuY7H8Lv6fy2PI8ijhjl7JmVLdXuFjkLCc1n01XA5PeIx1LcpBcmlYt3eDXMN3aZPUKVoIYv0M5YxhY3YnYh7cSlGtZBvGtA6_GzkLn8/s1600/hands+on+desk.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdHf8z7kCrozQVXNAr9QORyTv7BD8ddjIsPNHzuY7H8Lv6fy2PI8ijhjl7JmVLdXuFjkLCc1n01XA5PeIx1LcpBcmlYt3eDXMN3aZPUKVoIYv0M5YxhY3YnYh7cSlGtZBvGtA6_GzkLn8/s1600/hands+on+desk.jpg" /></a></div>
<b><span style="font-family: "arial" , "sans-serif"; margin: 0px;"><br /></span></b>
<b><span style="font-family: "arial" , "sans-serif"; margin: 0px;">Closed
to Conversation </span></b></div>
<br />
<div style="line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 0px 48px; text-indent: -0.25in;">
<span style="font-family: "wingdings"; margin: 0px;"> </span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "sans-serif"; margin: 0px;">Keeping the hands in
the pockets (esp. men) </span></div>
<br />
<div style="line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 0px 48px; text-indent: -0.25in;">
<span style="font-family: "wingdings"; margin: 0px;"> </span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "sans-serif"; margin: 0px;">Arms and legs crossed
</span></div>
<br />
<div style="line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 0px 48px; text-indent: -0.25in;">
<span style="font-family: "wingdings"; margin: 0px;"> </span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "sans-serif"; margin: 0px;">Sitting back </span></div>
<br />
<div style="line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 0px 48px; text-indent: -0.25in;">
<span style="font-family: "wingdings"; margin: 0px;"> </span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "sans-serif"; margin: 0px;">Folding the hands
together on a table (creates a barrier) </span></div>
<br />
<div style="line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 0px 48px; text-indent: -0.25in;">
<span style="font-family: "wingdings"; margin: 0px;"> </span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "sans-serif"; margin: 0px;">The “figure-four” leg
cross (setting the ankle of one leg on the knee of the other) and then grabbing
the lower half of the top leg with both hands. </span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4UCopndWp4qWiJa95m9H3DgtenebXOM8Zud2_GhRQTBg8J88wAQyP-K6hGd-uLkG2X_-fmK1Wn2sg9nHhP7UOcmR5rNNjBXbxBeB7-PL0WI6-A83Lnfj1uNYGn9pY73alr3NGrdMa3Ek/s1600/Open.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4UCopndWp4qWiJa95m9H3DgtenebXOM8Zud2_GhRQTBg8J88wAQyP-K6hGd-uLkG2X_-fmK1Wn2sg9nHhP7UOcmR5rNNjBXbxBeB7-PL0WI6-A83Lnfj1uNYGn9pY73alr3NGrdMa3Ek/s1600/Open.jpg" /></a></div>
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<div style="line-height: normal; margin: 0px;">
<b><span style="font-family: "arial" , "sans-serif"; margin: 0px;">Opennesss
and Honesty </span></b></div>
<br />
<div style="line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 0px 48px; text-indent: -0.25in;">
<span style="font-family: "wingdings"; margin: 0px;"> </span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "sans-serif"; margin: 0px;">Exposure of the palms
</span></div>
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<div style="line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 0px 48px; text-indent: -0.25in;">
<span style="font-family: "wingdings"; margin: 0px;"> </span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "sans-serif"; margin: 0px;">Arms and legs
unfolded </span></div>
<br />
<div style="line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 0px 48px; text-indent: -0.25in;">
<span style="font-family: "wingdings"; margin: 0px;"> </span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "sans-serif"; margin: 0px;">Leaning forward </span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWbr2junWoWXD5o9rWgBifmtNzjfM_QPXuwgWWNFjwwqc19JyIrEOs2PXG8pTzOWIhIVveBvQ1q4bVEkaOYVKUAdo7Q2vylJvI4ULwJztMQvGtwZcRG0S7UXzlZj4VERXmRNCIu8ywLrc/s1600/slumping.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWbr2junWoWXD5o9rWgBifmtNzjfM_QPXuwgWWNFjwwqc19JyIrEOs2PXG8pTzOWIhIVveBvQ1q4bVEkaOYVKUAdo7Q2vylJvI4ULwJztMQvGtwZcRG0S7UXzlZj4VERXmRNCIu8ywLrc/s1600/slumping.jpg" /></a></div>
<b><span style="font-family: "arial" , "sans-serif"; margin: 0px;"><br /></span></b>
<b><span style="font-family: "arial" , "sans-serif"; margin: 0px;">Submissive
Signals </span></b></div>
<br />
<div style="line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 0px 48px; text-indent: -0.25in;">
<span style="font-family: "wingdings"; margin: 0px;"> </span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "sans-serif"; margin: 0px;">Smiling - that’s why
some people smile when they’re upset or afraid </span></div>
<br />
<div style="line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 0px 48px; text-indent: -0.25in;">
<span style="font-family: "wingdings"; margin: 0px;"> </span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "sans-serif"; margin: 0px;">Slumping the
shoulders </span></div>
<br />
<div style="line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 0px 48px; text-indent: -0.25in;">
<span style="font-family: "wingdings"; margin: 0px;"> </span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "sans-serif"; margin: 0px;">Doing anything to
appear smaller </span></div>
<br />
<div style="line-height: normal; margin: 0px;">
<br /></div>
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<div style="line-height: normal; margin: 0px;">
<b><span style="font-family: "arial" , "sans-serif"; margin: 0px;"><br /></span></b>
<b><span style="font-family: "arial" , "sans-serif"; margin: 0px;"><br /></span></b>
<b><span style="font-family: "arial" , "sans-serif"; margin: 0px;">Distress</span></b><br />
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<b><span style="font-family: "arial" , "sans-serif"; margin: 0px;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjd0OWDOOi3-xsM1ym26t84cr3-m1YRYsFhqmBOgY4SpUZI-pgVcGknpecE_4nx3KfIipUe3TNiwNFGmH7F18b6uS0Bl_lisjgMn5nhyOEaym06NGg8pgzR-bOeHAGSpZjZ6tcE0EcsmdA/s1600/Hug.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjd0OWDOOi3-xsM1ym26t84cr3-m1YRYsFhqmBOgY4SpUZI-pgVcGknpecE_4nx3KfIipUe3TNiwNFGmH7F18b6uS0Bl_lisjgMn5nhyOEaym06NGg8pgzR-bOeHAGSpZjZ6tcE0EcsmdA/s320/Hug.jpg" width="220" /></a></span></b></div>
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<br />
<div style="line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 0px 48px; text-indent: -0.25in;">
<span style="font-family: "wingdings"; margin: 0px;"> </span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "sans-serif"; margin: 0px;">Men in particular
have a tendency to stroke or rub the nape of the neck when they’re upset. It
acts as a self-soothing gesture to deal with a “pain in the neck.” </span></div>
<br />
<div style="line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 0px 48px; text-indent: -0.25in;">
<span style="font-family: "wingdings"; margin: 0px;"> </span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "sans-serif"; margin: 0px;">Crossed arms - arms
act like a protective barrier </span></div>
<br />
<div style="line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 0px 48px; text-indent: -0.25in;">
<span style="font-family: "wingdings"; margin: 0px;"> </span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "sans-serif"; margin: 0px;">Self-hugging - arms
are crossed, hands gripping upper arms </span></div>
<br />
<div style="line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 0px 48px; text-indent: -0.25in;">
<span style="font-family: "wingdings"; margin: 0px;"> </span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "sans-serif"; margin: 0px;">One-arm cross - one
arm crosses the body to hold or touch the other arm - women keep a hand on a
purse or bag strap to make this look more natural </span></div>
<br />
<div style="line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 0px 48px; text-indent: -0.25in;">
<span style="font-family: "wingdings"; margin: 0px;"> </span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "sans-serif"; margin: 0px;">Clutching a purse,
briefcase, or bag with both arms </span></div>
<br />
<div style="line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 0px 48px; text-indent: -0.25in;">
<span style="font-family: "wingdings"; margin: 0px;"> </span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "sans-serif"; margin: 0px;">Adjusting cuffs or cuff-links
(men’s version of the purse-strap grab) </span></div>
<br />
<div style="line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 0px 48px; text-indent: -0.25in;">
<span style="font-family: "wingdings"; margin: 0px;"> </span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "sans-serif"; margin: 0px;">Folding the hands
together in front of the crotch (men) </span></div>
<br />
<div style="line-height: normal; margin: 0px;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhap7Ng5ZmoCBNrJtPyT0E9n8DgmjL7lrTnuzRFHlDlOLrlYF-qIcW3VNVzR1g8RXCV5wmdeDKOpqcmDEkAK6zlsr55k0_DPedd52fDLwzmfxe-9lXf6_PYKiF9ymeOuKlfJ9wUYsQCtHc/s1600/rubbing+eye.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhap7Ng5ZmoCBNrJtPyT0E9n8DgmjL7lrTnuzRFHlDlOLrlYF-qIcW3VNVzR1g8RXCV5wmdeDKOpqcmDEkAK6zlsr55k0_DPedd52fDLwzmfxe-9lXf6_PYKiF9ymeOuKlfJ9wUYsQCtHc/s1600/rubbing+eye.jpg" /></a></div>
<br />
<div style="line-height: normal; margin: 0px;">
<b><span style="font-family: "arial" , "sans-serif"; margin: 0px;">Lying
</span></b></div>
<br />
<div style="line-height: normal; margin: 0px;">
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "sans-serif"; margin: 0px;">Lying
causes a subtle tingling in the face and neck, so the gestures below are
attempts to eliminate that feeling </span></div>
<br />
<div style="line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 0px 48px; text-indent: -0.25in;">
<span style="font-family: "wingdings"; margin: 0px;"> </span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "sans-serif"; margin: 0px;">Covering the mouth -
can be like a shh gesture, or they may cover the mouth completely - some people
try to cover it by coughing </span></div>
<br />
<div style="line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 0px 48px; text-indent: -0.25in;">
<span style="font-family: "wingdings"; margin: 0px;"> </span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "sans-serif"; margin: 0px;">Touching or rubbing
the nose or just below the nose - often a quick, small gesture, not a scratch </span></div>
<br />
<div style="line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 0px 48px; text-indent: -0.25in;">
<span style="font-family: "wingdings"; margin: 0px;"> </span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "sans-serif"; margin: 0px;">Rubbing the eyes
(especially men) </span></div>
<br />
<div style="line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 0px 48px; text-indent: -0.25in;">
<span style="font-family: "wingdings"; margin: 0px;"> </span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "sans-serif"; margin: 0px;">Scratching the neck
with the index finger </span></div>
<br />
<div style="line-height: normal; margin: 0px;">
<br /></div>
<br />
<div style="line-height: normal; margin: 0px;">
<b><span style="font-family: "arial" , "sans-serif"; margin: 0px;">Superiority,
Confidence, Power, Dominance </span></b><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<b><span style="font-family: "arial" , "sans-serif"; margin: 0px;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggNS-1Th9fB7LSuja5gnR9JjRjAmEPRwpCjjasBG2jDWzN88LFSa9WFWCCx4ZdlNzglBYG3eltCkMTzSJT3h7udZladb85qsg5qFHMOKh3eV4npDdn4UaPrcz4FcuV-fn1ysGrwAXmJFg/s1600/th5AT53MMW.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggNS-1Th9fB7LSuja5gnR9JjRjAmEPRwpCjjasBG2jDWzN88LFSa9WFWCCx4ZdlNzglBYG3eltCkMTzSJT3h7udZladb85qsg5qFHMOKh3eV4npDdn4UaPrcz4FcuV-fn1ysGrwAXmJFg/s1600/th5AT53MMW.jpg" /></a></span></b></div>
</div>
<br />
<div style="line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 0px 48px; text-indent: -0.25in;">
<span style="font-family: "wingdings"; margin: 0px;"> </span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "sans-serif"; margin: 0px;">Steepling the fingers
(aka setting the tips of the fingers together) </span></div>
<br />
<div style="line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 0px 48px; text-indent: -0.25in;">
<span style="font-family: "wingdings"; margin: 0px;"> </span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "sans-serif"; margin: 0px;">Folding the hands
behind the back </span></div>
<br />
<div style="line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 0px 48px; text-indent: -0.25in;">
<span style="font-family: "wingdings"; margin: 0px;"> </span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "sans-serif"; margin: 0px;">Thumbs sticking out
from pockets when hands are in pockets (can be front or back pockets) </span></div>
<br />
<div style="line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 0px 48px; text-indent: -0.25in;">
<span style="font-family: "wingdings"; margin: 0px;"> </span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "sans-serif"; margin: 0px;">Hands on hips </span></div>
<br />
<div style="line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 0px 48px; text-indent: -0.25in;">
<span style="font-family: "wingdings"; margin: 0px;"> </span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "sans-serif"; margin: 0px;">Straddling a chair </span></div>
<br />
<div style="line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 0px 48px; text-indent: -0.25in;">
<span style="font-family: "wingdings"; margin: 0px;"> </span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "sans-serif"; margin: 0px;">Hands folded behind
the head while sitting up (in men; in women this thrusts the breasts out and
becomes sexual) </span></div>
<br />
<div style="line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 0px 48px; text-indent: -0.25in;">
</div>
<div style="line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 0px 48px; text-indent: -0.25in;">
<br /></div>
<b></b><i></i><u></u><sub></sub><sup></sup><strike></strike>Vonnie Davis ~ Romance Authorhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07360480832587538895noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-857180574575421857.post-53991159035774973902016-11-30T12:47:00.000-05:002016-11-30T12:47:08.111-05:00Two Christmas Reads for 99 cents Each!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhlowFG9yggJ9xLLaStBnfIhAkz_p6e_ocByZ9CXFMYKE1XaZhcQENZp2Bj4EYr_N0Hh47rVq_XdCCtaHkkJnSsCpct3rJKczuxD_tvQBmhJhbYWeYousTiwMV-wV-PrakA_ZxcP4u54R0/s1600/thIGOKBWKL.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhlowFG9yggJ9xLLaStBnfIhAkz_p6e_ocByZ9CXFMYKE1XaZhcQENZp2Bj4EYr_N0Hh47rVq_XdCCtaHkkJnSsCpct3rJKczuxD_tvQBmhJhbYWeYousTiwMV-wV-PrakA_ZxcP4u54R0/s200/thIGOKBWKL.jpg" width="183" /></a></div>
Today is the last day of November. In my mind, tomorrow--December 1st--starts the real Christmas season. Some start after Halloween. Others after the turkey's stuffed. Me? I wait until the holiday month arrives. Old school, I guess. That doesn't mean I haven't written a Christmas novella earlier this year. I have. It's up for purchase. Cost? 99 cents for Kindle or Nook versions.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqPhAhafSOMYfMc0U79pPnmXvOwvcL0SLKzlHv_bsCa2leDZtLfjPYieC09_I1WPPAQFpPCmNuQ2Fxp4_iqF4jPEqV9nZtzQcXk32lWGijKZWRohU_G1g6nxc-GHkKhKeIe3od56e_sRU/s1600/blurb2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="98" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqPhAhafSOMYfMc0U79pPnmXvOwvcL0SLKzlHv_bsCa2leDZtLfjPYieC09_I1WPPAQFpPCmNuQ2Fxp4_iqF4jPEqV9nZtzQcXk32lWGijKZWRohU_G1g6nxc-GHkKhKeIe3od56e_sRU/s200/blurb2.jpg" width="200" /></a></div>
Ciera Parker moves to Willow Bend, New York, to begin a new life away from the scandal her ex-husband created. She loves her job as a dispatcher at the police and fire station in the town. What she doesn’t love is Detective Mason Holt and his overbearing ways. He’s been watching her for two years and she’s beginning to get all hot and bothered. But she’s sworn off men and this one has a reputation of being one step above a man-whore.<br />
<br />
Mason Holt is not what everyone thinks. He’s more family man than one would believe. Since his sister’s husband is serving overseas, he takes on duties as a father figure for his two rambunctious nephews and niece. He’s ready to settle down with children of his own and he’s got his eye and his heart fixated on a dark-haired beauty in the communications center.<br />
<br />
Now, all he has to do is convince Ciera all men aren’t bad. That he does have his good points—until he gets stuck in her chimney on Christmas Eve.<br />
<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSRuslycnNBbbPqeo_js_wSXXx9E-74tR6muP2lJLdDgLPKoC2lkLnGBjQkckqKk_wQNjVP3Ypt0QLySaKTTVlPeasCg1TyNWDKRTIAj6apTqNmWXgNml6iMiWIrcKmqodBpSISKT21RE/s1600/51TT%252B5oN3oL.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSRuslycnNBbbPqeo_js_wSXXx9E-74tR6muP2lJLdDgLPKoC2lkLnGBjQkckqKk_wQNjVP3Ypt0QLySaKTTVlPeasCg1TyNWDKRTIAj6apTqNmWXgNml6iMiWIrcKmqodBpSISKT21RE/s400/51TT%252B5oN3oL.jpg" width="266" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
AMAZON BUY LINK: <a href="http://a.co/6gf7jaj">http://a.co/6gf7jaj</a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpQp7r_-FSuAQr1SpEz9nsoQ43edEC9jm_kCOkuoZxuFTXqqOSSHhhl4Urt1VgcbHjwut83WR5DSn_i7ccUkUhSBbiHt_-tdQfdWvaMCo8fwj1RU_jCD3q8ZcJuERIEdUQC2edCAVHyZo/s1600/bell.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="166" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpQp7r_-FSuAQr1SpEz9nsoQ43edEC9jm_kCOkuoZxuFTXqqOSSHhhl4Urt1VgcbHjwut83WR5DSn_i7ccUkUhSBbiHt_-tdQfdWvaMCo8fwj1RU_jCD3q8ZcJuERIEdUQC2edCAVHyZo/s400/bell.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />
The story that kicked off my "Wild Heat" firemen's series--SANTA WORE LEATHERS--is also on sale for 99 cents. <br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBRZiPCInRZQFyn9H1S0iIIZY1E3wMxYs5UC0qvxjOa4ddEp_InF0gumFcHGm5sHDDUx67QweP-0aqrLsjBVMn4CZifG5Wy4aUIcriwKImLYC2-wRcdw0BIFxKEoSMgqaxkIzwId80z-Y/s1600/blurb2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="98" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBRZiPCInRZQFyn9H1S0iIIZY1E3wMxYs5UC0qvxjOa4ddEp_InF0gumFcHGm5sHDDUx67QweP-0aqrLsjBVMn4CZifG5Wy4aUIcriwKImLYC2-wRcdw0BIFxKEoSMgqaxkIzwId80z-Y/s200/blurb2.jpg" width="200" /></a></div>
Take one man-shy reporter, a gorgeous ex-Navy SEAL turned firefighter, add in a thong-stealing dog… and Christmas will never be the same again!<br />
<br />
There’s only one thing on Becca Sinclair’s Christmas list this holiday season – her very own column in the local paper. And if she can build a huge blog following, her wish just might come true.<br />
<br />
Enter Dan ‘Wolf’ Wolford aka the man-whore next door and the new star of Becca’s popular, post-divorce blog about men. A Navy SEAL turned commander of the Florida Marine Rescue Unit, Wolf’s the very definition of the word alpha – and with an endless rotation of women on his doorstep, this hunk on a Harley has Becca and her female followers all hot and bothered!<br />
<br />
All Becca wants for Christmas is her newspaper column, right? But when she finds herself the target of Wolf’s irresistible attentions, her snarky comebacks become less and less convincing and, suddenly, she’s not so sure anymore…<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjh_gkSH3dkaBZkzmcHo3jzgBlK93OMyzvP84iFsSUju1vyrtTa8XIpIQbyb1HSZL9lySjwf5uOOhKPv2ptjiwkfnt0CJFa6K_WLeVVroUcY1-bEKs6yWAqwjajurJldw4yJckdsVSkJho/s1600/Santa+Wears+Leathers2.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjh_gkSH3dkaBZkzmcHo3jzgBlK93OMyzvP84iFsSUju1vyrtTa8XIpIQbyb1HSZL9lySjwf5uOOhKPv2ptjiwkfnt0CJFa6K_WLeVVroUcY1-bEKs6yWAqwjajurJldw4yJckdsVSkJho/s400/Santa+Wears+Leathers2.jpeg" width="261" /></a></div>
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<div style="text-align: center;">
AMAZON BUY LINK: <a href="http://a.co/8NoE1eL">http://a.co/8NoE1eL</a> </div>
Vonnie Davis ~ Romance Authorhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07360480832587538895noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-857180574575421857.post-12207873803807393872016-11-25T10:44:00.000-05:002016-11-25T10:44:15.176-05:00Silent Signals, A Cowboy Christmas SeriesHave I got a holiday treat for you! SILENT SIGNALS, A COWBOY CHRISTMAS SERIES from the fabulous Linda Carroll-Bradd.<br />
<br />
<br />
<div style="line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 11px;">
<span style="color: black; margin: 0px;">After losing half his herd in
the Great Blizzard of 1886, rancher Konrad Werner needs to safeguard his
cattle. Tomboy Anora Huxley trains the Australian Shepherds and Kelpies that
run the family’s sheep herd. Although cattlemen and shepherds are at odds, the
pair discovers common interests. A threat is overheard, and Konrad rides out to
Anora’s ranch to protect her. The tense situation reveals their true feelings.
Will Anora be swayed by family loyalty, or will she listen to her heart that
responds to Konrad’s silent signals? </span></div>
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<div style="line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-indent: 0.5in;">
Mikel returned, dropping two rolls of wire onto the
counter. “I have a new shipment of barbed wire too. Perhaps that works better
for your needs?”</div>
<br />
<div style="line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-indent: 0.5in;">
Konrad turned and laid a hand on the smooth wire. “The
fence to pen in my cattle has several components, so this is what I need. But
thanks, Toussaint.”</div>
<br />
<div style="line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-indent: 0.5in;">
The shopkeeper shrugged. “Some ranchers prefer the
barbed.”</div>
<br />
<div style="line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-indent: 0.5in;">
“I do too, and I may have to resort to that when the
winter weather sets in. But I’ll wait on that purchase.” He leaned his other
hand on the counter. “This year, I’m building a brush fence. I’ll use what I
can from downed branches and rocks cleared from the field that will be planted
in the spring.” He shrugged and straightened.</div>
<br />
<div style="line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-indent: 0.5in;">
“Makes sense.” Mikel nodded as he pulled the pencil from
his ear. “I remember those types of fences in old country. Uncle had them
around his vineyard.”</div>
<br />
<div style="line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-indent: 0.5in;">
Konrad was sure his wasn’t the only sad story the store
owner had heard over the last year. “Gotta come up with the cheapest solution
for protecting my cattle.” He shook his head. “The ranch can’t withstand any
more losses like last year.”</div>
<br />
<div style="line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-indent: 0.5in;">
“Excuse me, sir.” A female voice floated in the air. </div>
<br />
<div style="line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-indent: 0.5in;">
The tone was pitched low, almost intimate. Konrad shifted
and raised an eyebrow at the tall woman dressed in an ill-fitting coat and a
split skirt that showed several inches of boot-encased legs. “Are you speaking
to me?”</div>
<br />
<div style="line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-indent: 0.5in;">
“Have you considered using herding dogs to contain your
cattle?” The blonde woman took one step closer, her gaze intent.</div>
<br />
<div style="line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-indent: 0.5in;">
“No.” This stranger had an opinion about how he ran his
ranch? His body stiffened.</div>
<br />
<div style="line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-indent: 0.5in;">
“I train the dogs that work the sheep at Green Meadows
Ranch, and I don’t see why the dogs couldn’t be used with cattle.” She glanced
over her shoulder and then back to connect with his gaze. “The principles are
the same, as long as the person uses the right cues.”</div>
<br />
<div style="line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-indent: 0.5in;">
He squinted at the green-eyed woman who stood only a few
inches shorter than his six-foot height. Wisps of blonde hair had escaped the
edges of her plain black bonnet and straggled along her cheeks. Her face was
pleasant enough—probably would be more so without the frown creasing her
forehead. “Have we met?”</div>
<br />
<div style="line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-indent: 0.5in;">
“I apologize, Mr. Werner. I’m Anora Huxley.” A blush
reddened her cheeks. “I am acquainted with Gaelle.”</div>
<br />
<div style="line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-indent: 0.5in;">
His younger sister by five years. Which explained why he
didn’t know this woman from his schooling years. Huxley did sound familiar,
though. But he didn’t have time to contemplate why because the woman now stood
by his side. Out of the corner of his eye, he spotted a thick-set scowling man
hovering two feet away who looked madder than a newly branded steer. The second
member of the arguing duo.</div>
<br />
<div style="line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-indent: 0.5in;">
“My dogs are exceedingly smart. A special breed with
strong herding instincts. They respond to hand signs and whistles, and from a
distance of more than ten rods.”</div>
<br />
<div style="line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-indent: 0.5in;">
He held up a hand lest he be stuck here listening to her
run down every detail. “I do not wish to be lectured on how to run my ranch. My
brush fence will suffice.” Regretting the stiffness of his tone, he lifted a
finger to tap the brim of his hat. “Good day, Mrs. Huxley.” He spotted the
brief widening of her gaze before scooping up the roll of wire and headed
toward the storeroom. Irritation at the outspoken women and her high-handed
advice put an extra punch into each footfall.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdkUq9astrwu5msipNvqKqBHSpaVCk8nfpz551urfOuifn0EwR7IQgy8eOfK_zv-jl4cScFeMHSmjb-D7V68D5Mw3FIN5GIKNRMsORrdL5bsoRCWstqGhd0y01deMN-JVJUDE8tUTIXeU/s1600/Linda+C-B+casual.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdkUq9astrwu5msipNvqKqBHSpaVCk8nfpz551urfOuifn0EwR7IQgy8eOfK_zv-jl4cScFeMHSmjb-D7V68D5Mw3FIN5GIKNRMsORrdL5bsoRCWstqGhd0y01deMN-JVJUDE8tUTIXeU/s200/Linda+C-B+casual.jpg" width="170" /></a></div>
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<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;">Bio:</b></div>
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<div style="line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 11px;">
As a young girl, Linda was often
found lying on her bed reading about fascinating characters having exciting
adventures in places far away and in other time periods. In later years, she
read and then started writing romances and achieved her first publication--a
confession story. Married with 4 adult children and 2 granddaughters, Linda
writes heartwarming contemporary and historical stories with a touch of humor
from her home in the southern California mountains.</div>
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<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;">Linda’s Links:</b></div>
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<div style="line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 11px;">
<a href="http://www.lindacarroll-bradd.com/"><span style="color: blue;">Website</span></a><span style="margin: 0px;"> </span><a href="http://blog.lindacarroll-bradd.com/"><span style="color: blue;">Blog</span></a><span style="margin: 0px;"> </span><a href="http://www.facebook.com/pages/Linda-Carroll-Bradd-author/440814942635289"><span style="color: blue;">Facebook</span></a><span style="margin: 0px;"> </span><a href="http://www.twitter.com/lcarrollbradd"><span style="color: blue;">Twitter</span><span style="margin: 0px;"><span style="color: blue;"> </span></span></a><span style="margin: 0px;"> </span><a href="http://www.goodreads.com/author/show/1806413.Linda_Carroll_Bradd"><span style="color: blue;">Goodreads</span></a></div>
<b></b><i></i><u></u><sub></sub><sup></sup><strike></strike>Vonnie Davis ~ Romance Authorhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07360480832587538895noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-857180574575421857.post-14199165030878677032016-11-21T00:00:00.000-05:002016-11-21T08:45:02.494-05:00When Will the Election Finally Be Over?--Monday Musings and Mumblings<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTsFk0JBAAX95_jZkj0PCWdd_5MyfrK0oklS1bgletbb_6_cOkDRKnCAv7THgEP1bpd05Ymr5HmzvhOBnGbyaKG28UkYiGCR-TqavHIijiJsnLYN30wZqyDTD_yst0tEdPkGQXFMkxmA0/s1600/monday2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTsFk0JBAAX95_jZkj0PCWdd_5MyfrK0oklS1bgletbb_6_cOkDRKnCAv7THgEP1bpd05Ymr5HmzvhOBnGbyaKG28UkYiGCR-TqavHIijiJsnLYN30wZqyDTD_yst0tEdPkGQXFMkxmA0/s320/monday2.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
I thought the day Calvin and I went to the voting polls would be the end of all the political sniping. Color me naïve. Yup, I thought as we sat up, watching the results roll in, this unholy mess would finally be over. The winner wasn't a certainty when we went to bed and, once during the night, the light from Calvin's iPad woke me. He gave me the latest update. I groaned and rolled over.<br />
<br />
The winner was announced and the loser called to congratulate. Niceties were exchanged. Painful, I'm sure for the one who lost.<br />
<br />
But STILL the campaign ugliness continues. Some of the posts on Twitter from both sides are caustic. Facebook posts are just as bad. It's as if everyone is looking for a fight. My own son included and if I could get my hands on him, mid-forties or not, I'd fan his ass. Whether your side won or lost, accept it with grace...and move on.<br />
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Stop with the negativity and the "yeah, well what do you think of this?" We're better than that. We're Americans and we're better than that.<br />
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I realize my words will fall on deaf ears. See, I don't care who you voted for. As an American, your vote was your right. My thanks to you for exercising it. <br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisKIOUExG4btliGE14H0sKM49yTRlC9hJcvCd-vcoK47cN6EvRKP7A5skS8E2roUlKO_8ThwNbcKOZMdH-aW-ZaMbeNa8pdddR0mYtZNwy11mvNBcAPNOq65GMelUlubAl3Ey2s_Gn90o/s1600/eats.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisKIOUExG4btliGE14H0sKM49yTRlC9hJcvCd-vcoK47cN6EvRKP7A5skS8E2roUlKO_8ThwNbcKOZMdH-aW-ZaMbeNa8pdddR0mYtZNwy11mvNBcAPNOq65GMelUlubAl3Ey2s_Gn90o/s1600/eats.jpg" /></a></div>
Now, let it go. We're better than the protests and the mean tweets and the argumentative posts. <br />
<br />
Our country has some real issues. Let's come together and support our Congressmen and women so they can do their best. Call. Email. Make your voice heard to them. Not to the rest of us who can't do anything about it and simply just want a break from it all.Vonnie Davis ~ Romance Authorhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07360480832587538895noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-857180574575421857.post-80825799179603824862016-11-13T14:03:00.000-05:002016-11-13T14:07:17.479-05:00Release Day for "Hers to Heal" is in the Single Didgets<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYboEJWuyYd0d4TCLQ2pc-bRsgGclM4ZExL8ltzmbX6IVlexgSQt_hi66Np4dAktEu3gQb1COwl94rusZGjUbh4CEelChTZvrRdTaSE1FQx49x1ieHQbfldrvR02aZIKBTteVO85Qfyp8/s1600/keep-calm-and-countdown-9-days-to-go.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYboEJWuyYd0d4TCLQ2pc-bRsgGclM4ZExL8ltzmbX6IVlexgSQt_hi66Np4dAktEu3gQb1COwl94rusZGjUbh4CEelChTZvrRdTaSE1FQx49x1ieHQbfldrvR02aZIKBTteVO85Qfyp8/s400/keep-calm-and-countdown-9-days-to-go.png" width="342" /></a></div>
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Or 8 or 7, depending on what day you read this. I feel like I wrote this book a year ago and I think I probably did. HERS TO HEAL is book 2 of the Black Eagle Ops series. If you've read book 1, HER SURVIVOR, you'll get caught up with the characters you met and loved in that story. If you didn't read it, you won't be lost. Both books are stand alones and I tried to write the second one so readers of book 2 wouldn't feel lost.</div>
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<b><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">In this powerful, sensual romance from the author of </span></b><i><b><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Her Survivor, </span></b></i><b><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">a broken woman meets a shattered warrior—and discovers a passion strong enough to heal each other’s deepest wounds.</span></b> </div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"> Navy SEAL Reece Browning sacrificed body and soul in the line of duty. He survived torture at the hands of America’s enemies, but lost his career and his voice in the process. Traumatized and desperate to get his PTSD under control, Reece escapes to Eagle Ridge Ranch. Under the big Texas sky, he finds peace, a renewed sense of purpose—and a woman who makes him feel like a man again. Her smile lights up his dark days, and her caress helps him forget the night terrors</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">.</span> </div>
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"> Ex-Marine Gina Wilson also bears painful scars: emotional wounds inflicted by men she once trusted with her life. She has fought hard to overcome her demons and build a good life for her daughter, and Reece is too intense, too damaged, too raw to let into her heart. Yet she’s drawn irresistibly to his steely gaze and heated embrace. No one else understands what it’s like to suffer in silence. And when Gina’s daughter is threatened, it’s Reece who risks everything to save the day</span>.<br />
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BUY LINK: <a href="http://a.co/4EieTKO">http://a.co/4EieTKO</a></div>
Vonnie Davis ~ Romance Authorhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07360480832587538895noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-857180574575421857.post-18242658884969142502016-11-07T10:24:00.000-05:002016-11-07T10:24:58.982-05:00What the Heck?! Dirty Deeds has come to Vintage Vonnie...Yeah, A Likely Story!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhlsCu-wrswO54VD0elGWf-5RO2aAkTlCqx1ZitgfUvujJxUrdHkcZef0EvbH3xFsafpcVS1VRvLY34FKXYzGitt_uJcc55P_vyAM7EYiXzgFvB1q_G-Z9-8G_fg1lXH65BD3ArB4-5K74/s1600/Cover+Reveal+Blog+Tour+%25283%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="212" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhlsCu-wrswO54VD0elGWf-5RO2aAkTlCqx1ZitgfUvujJxUrdHkcZef0EvbH3xFsafpcVS1VRvLY34FKXYzGitt_uJcc55P_vyAM7EYiXzgFvB1q_G-Z9-8G_fg1lXH65BD3ArB4-5K74/s640/Cover+Reveal+Blog+Tour+%25283%2529.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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<b style="font-size: 14px;"><b style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px;"><i><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br /></span></i></b></b>
<span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif;"><span style="cfont-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><i>Coming Soon from Lyrical Underground</i></span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif;"><span style="color: magenta; font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: x-large;"><i><b>Dirty Deeds</b></i></span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><i>A Likely Story by AJ Nuest</i></span></span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDfHVbwHiOQx62mZpujTh-JQfRcNSeaxC3wV9VZMHiWpkoQQIZo17CSXqgnkxg5BxTZpgM8RQTKNaYCrrklKUwuR_XX-v_Cb8D7kVcdWhgkoljym0hW2P3IylZlWgBFv4IrQs3CqzeB9s/s1600/Dirty+Deeds+%25284%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDfHVbwHiOQx62mZpujTh-JQfRcNSeaxC3wV9VZMHiWpkoQQIZo17CSXqgnkxg5BxTZpgM8RQTKNaYCrrklKUwuR_XX-v_Cb8D7kVcdWhgkoljym0hW2P3IylZlWgBFv4IrQs3CqzeB9s/s400/Dirty+Deeds+%25284%2529.jpg" width="266" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><b><i>An Eye for an Eye</i></b></span></div>
<span style="-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" font-size: 14px; font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">As owner of Dirty Deeds, a tech-savvy company specializing in the age-old art of revenge, Eden Smith knows first-hand that secrecy is critical. But when a dead body washes up on the shores of Lake Michigan clutching her business card, Eden’s well-constructed world begins to fall apart. Apparently, she’s not the only one with a passion for payback, and staying alive to outsmart a killer has become her most important job of all. </span><br />
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<span style="-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" font-size: 14px; font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><i><b>Game for a Game</b></i></span>
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<span style="-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" font-size: 14px; font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Hardened homicide detective Kelly Riordan is convinced Eden Smith is hiding more than she’s willing to admit. Years on the force have taught him that nothing is what it seems, and that couldn’t be truer than when it comes to investigating the alluring owner of a revenge-for-hire business. But revealing her past could put everything Eden has worked for in jeopardy. And trusting a man like Riordan goes against the very instincts that have kept her alive this long.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><b><i>Book one in the highly-anticipated</i></b></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><b><i><a href="https://www.amazon.com/Dirty-Deeds-Likely-Story-Nuest-ebook/dp/B01FBZXR5I/ref=asap_bc?ie=UTF8">Dirty Deeds, A Likely Story</a> Series!</i></b></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; text-align: left;">Kelly’s phone chirped, and he frowned, slipping it from the
pocket of his jeans. A glance at the caller ID, and he jerked to attention.
“Holy shit.”</span>
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">He knew that number. It’d been the bane of existence for the
past forty-eight hours.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Archer lifted his brows. “Problem?”</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Holding up his hand, Kelly thumbed the screen. Whether or
not this call qualified as a problem was still up for grabs. “Riordan.”</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">“I heard you’ve been looking for me, Detective.” The voice
was female, soft, held a slight hint of humor. Yep. He raked his hand through
his hair. This was gonna be a problem, all right. “I hope you don’t mind that I
called.”</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">His brows jacked toward his hairline.<i> Mind that she
called?</i> What the hell was she trying to pull? For Christ’s sake, the woman
had not only located his private number, she’d dialed it and then acted like
calling him was no big deal. Meanwhile, he’d only spent the last two days
driving himself nuts trying to figure out her loca—</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">His eyes slammed shut. But, of course, she already knew
that. Which could only mean she also knew his efforts at trying to find her had
resulted in a dead end. So <i>she’d </i>called <i>him</i>. A power play to
establish right from the get-go exactly who was in charge.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Nice move, Dirty Deeds. Bitchy, but nice.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">“Are you there? Maybe I’ve called at a bad time. If you
want, I can always—”</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">“No, no, I’m here.” He locked onto Archer and wrote an invisible
line through the air, signaling for him to get some paper and a pen. Kelly
cleared his throat. “How can I help you, Miss…?”</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">She laughed. Smooth, low. Like a shot of barrel-aged whiskey
had just slid down her throat. “I think the question you meant to ask is how
can I help <i>you</i>.”</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Dammit. Huge problem. Huge, huge problem. Not to mention,
she seemed to be enjoying this game she’d cooked up. A game she played without
giving him the parameters. “Had I known it would be this easy to get your
assistance, I would’ve started asking questions about you a long time ago.”</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">It was a stupid thing to say since he hadn’t even known she
existed until Monday night, but based on the way her husky laugh brushed his
ear like a feather, she got the point.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">“Very good, Detective. At ten o’clock tonight, I’ll be at 17
South State Street on the twenty-first floor, room 4-B. I’ll give you ten
minutes.” She paused. “Funny, I was about to say come alone, but I know you
won’t. Besides, that sounds corny. Even for me.”</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">The line disconnected.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Kelly lowered the phone and stared at the screen. On
impulse, he hit *69 to dial back the number, but a weird busy signal repeatedly
beeped in his ear. Yep. He’d just been spanked and, at the same time, something
about her… </span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Damn, the woman had him intrigued.</span></span><br />
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<b style="font-family: "helvetica neue", arial, helvetica, sans-serif;">Genre:</b><span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"> Romantic Suspense</span></div>
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<b arial="" helvetica="" neue="" quot="" sans-serif="" style="font-family: "helvetica neue", arial, helvetica, sans-serif; rating: </b><span style=;">Heat Rating:</b><span arial="" helvetica="" neue="" quot="" sans-serif="" style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; rating: </b><span style=;"> 4 Flames</span></div>
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<b style="font-family: "helvetica neue", arial, helvetica, sans-serif;">Publication Date:</b><span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"> January 31, 2017</span></div>
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<b style="font-family: "helvetica neue", arial, helvetica, sans-serif;">Publisher:</b><span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"> </span><a href="http://www.ekensingtonbooks.com/book.aspx/34383?category=313295" style="font-family: "helvetica neue", arial, helvetica, sans-serif;">Lyrical Under</a><a href="http://www.ekensingtonbooks.com/book.aspx/34383?category=313295" style="font-family: "helvetica neue", arial, helvetica, sans-serif;">ground</a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica";">Author: </span><a href="https://www.amazon.com/AJ-Nuest/e/B004W0DH4K/ref=sr_ntt_srch_lnk_1?qid=1476900324&sr=8-1" style="font-family: "helvetica neue", arial, helvetica; text-align: center;">AJ Nuest </a></div>
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<b><br /></b></div>
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<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><b>PRE-ORDER NOW</b> at these on-line retailers: </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"></span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<a href="https://www.amazon.com/Dirty-Deeds-Likely-Story-Nuest-ebook/dp/B01FBZXR5I/ref=asap_bc?ie=UTF8" style="font-family: "helvetica neue", arial, helvetica, sans-serif;">Amazon</a><span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"> </span><span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">/</span><span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"> </span><a href="http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/dirty-deeds-aj-nuest/1123772356?ean=9781516100439" style="font-family: "helvetica neue", arial, helvetica, sans-serif;">B&N</a><span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"> </span><span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">/</span><span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"> </span><a href="https://store.kobobooks.com/en-us/ebook/dirty-deeds-26" style="font-family: "helvetica neue", arial, helvetica, sans-serif;">Kobo</a><span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"> /</span><span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; text-align: center;"> </span><a href="https://itunes.apple.com/us/book/dirty-deeds/id1128182416?mt=11" style="font-family: "helvetica neue", arial, helvetica, sans-serif;">iTunes</a><span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"> </span><span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">/</span><span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; text-align: center;"> </span><a href="https://play.google.com/store/books/details/AJ_Nuest_Dirty_Deeds?id=mnQhDAAAQBAJ" style="font-family: "helvetica neue", arial, helvetica, sans-serif;">Google</a>
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Vonnie Davis ~ Romance Authorhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07360480832587538895noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-857180574575421857.post-24026387229456195142016-11-05T10:41:00.000-04:002016-11-05T10:41:34.027-04:00"Her Survivor" is a Bargain at 99 Cents!My publisher put HER SURVIVOR on BookBub this week, reducing its price to 99 cents for a few weeks. Ah, the power of Book Bub! For that day I reached some nice heights, or rankings. I was very pleased because we were hoping to generate overall interest in the series with book two, HERS TO HEAL, releasing on the 22nd. And pre-sale orders for book two did see a definite uptick.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhki5oDRP6y07Pa6SAiBHam4k6iZ7cILPi-cpt6r26FBKkLm0l32i3JgF5Q55cB9qVWyiRIBlxqNFk2t-Vog-DhWysJXLBXwshWEQNKoR_C63m5t0_1VaUmKADHLz4v6grJ5LSTkDwai5M/s1600/14484836_1283496371674898_1894412890980918698_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="310" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhki5oDRP6y07Pa6SAiBHam4k6iZ7cILPi-cpt6r26FBKkLm0l32i3JgF5Q55cB9qVWyiRIBlxqNFk2t-Vog-DhWysJXLBXwshWEQNKoR_C63m5t0_1VaUmKADHLz4v6grJ5LSTkDwai5M/s400/14484836_1283496371674898_1894412890980918698_n.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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My heights reached that day were:<br />
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<li>#36 on Amazon Kindle</li>
<li>Amazon's Movers and Shakers</li>
<li>#12 on Barnes & Noble NOOK</li>
<li>#42 on Apples iTunes Books</li>
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But, alas, the rankings change like the wind. I stayed in the top 100 on a few lists for the next day, but slowly, slowly, slide downward.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMcqA5sZgEyj8KJiJ8e2l2ff30hi_3S5JktL3n0kuFgVptjwVlfiNcqHTK4Q1qxWrNAEbFQCWe85zKbA-Zl9CVyArTBhYvXie_honuRl1B6oqRj0FmewVNHGLJ7JRiQ7X9hW6qxLXwOuY/s1600/th9HPG7814.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMcqA5sZgEyj8KJiJ8e2l2ff30hi_3S5JktL3n0kuFgVptjwVlfiNcqHTK4Q1qxWrNAEbFQCWe85zKbA-Zl9CVyArTBhYvXie_honuRl1B6oqRj0FmewVNHGLJ7JRiQ7X9hW6qxLXwOuY/s1600/th9HPG7814.jpg" /></a></div>
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Really, I think I'm glad all that high flying is over. Poor Calvin was checking my rankings every half-hour, reporting them to me. I was stretched tighter than a size 12 girdle on a size 22 behind. I didn't write a word the whole day. I mean, who can enter a calm, creative state to hear your characters speak to you when you're worried about numbers? </div>
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As most of you know, we've had a stressful time here at the Davis household. Calvin had a minor heart attack almost two weeks ago and spent four days in the hospital. He's fine and wearing a heart monitor. The cardiologists feel his heart is out of rhythm. The night I found him flat on his back in the hallway, unconscious was a moment or two of sheer horror. 911 sent two ambulances. One was for Calvin and I think the other one was for the crazy, incoherent woman who made the phone call. What can I say? The man is my other half. My biggest supporter. My emotional rock. That's why I love writing romance so much. I put one of Calvin's many fine qualities into every hero.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBgDTDz_P8dHoH2rqfpUtWfi5A61pSA4QwZds1k_hMuaNAd9TfIigAkW36OjSuKqWEU1ms6T6liQMDDrEHW9oZqc-iDzKR4HVKvlwbdwvrh93B1Nxjuqsvj6ftLdo6czWxHD3WSbiap_s/s1600/mylarballoonsStarBurst99cent.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="159" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBgDTDz_P8dHoH2rqfpUtWfi5A61pSA4QwZds1k_hMuaNAd9TfIigAkW36OjSuKqWEU1ms6T6liQMDDrEHW9oZqc-iDzKR4HVKvlwbdwvrh93B1Nxjuqsvj6ftLdo6czWxHD3WSbiap_s/s200/mylarballoonsStarBurst99cent.gif" width="200" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhaQt8sk_pB8oVrA78BoeiavNMc1ptvoBNBLEVmc4Ec3PqMp6WKJYc0pZe_iHCVJ8leHtUq_Kq5r83R4kdoq4vggAEmqY_kkCWHcTWIcJTh49NHVNSv2d97bgvauDZhsvbj_6JkOhVgw7Q/s1600/Dustin+Meme.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="296" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhaQt8sk_pB8oVrA78BoeiavNMc1ptvoBNBLEVmc4Ec3PqMp6WKJYc0pZe_iHCVJ8leHtUq_Kq5r83R4kdoq4vggAEmqY_kkCWHcTWIcJTh49NHVNSv2d97bgvauDZhsvbj_6JkOhVgw7Q/s400/Dustin+Meme.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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BUY LINKS: :<a href="https://amzn.com/B0174PTMU2"><span style="color: #0094ff;"> https://amzn.com/B0174PTMU2</span></a><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<a href="http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/her-survivor-vonnie-davis/1122885268?ean=9781101967928"><span style="color: #0094ff;">http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/her-survivor-vonnie-davis/1122885268?ean=9781101967928</span></a><b></b><i></i><u></u><sub></sub><sup></sup><strike></strike></div>
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Vonnie Davis ~ Romance Authorhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07360480832587538895noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-857180574575421857.post-80118049669635827252016-10-31T00:36:00.000-04:002016-10-31T11:53:32.746-04:00I'm So Cheap, You Gotta Love Me! -- Monday Musings<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh491MHyUkzosNf5V6cFSC4hkp8QbOxTjS1AMJYhBh_PIj00hBRuhvDajAXunbBrH9RCY3iWG9CC2h4A_kfmxzg2nfRnrYbY9UUldPTr-0v2oRt42UURGPIpomyhYDjMsjRMsMruQhfRZI/s1600/HERS+3C+%25281%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh491MHyUkzosNf5V6cFSC4hkp8QbOxTjS1AMJYhBh_PIj00hBRuhvDajAXunbBrH9RCY3iWG9CC2h4A_kfmxzg2nfRnrYbY9UUldPTr-0v2oRt42UURGPIpomyhYDjMsjRMsMruQhfRZI/s320/HERS+3C+%25281%2529.jpg" width="211" /></a></div>
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYKqShiMwM8Jo5wfYOY2XgmAgX5e5OxXtZBEIkCzGS9WDBJ19ovpwPzsWZVkl00XgTRWuMF9XbI2eFeX3Td5wpwDFAJg8TiBajdB4WZpTsouaLyZoWxL9cni1nkHP3476LBCnqKZrWUJ4/s1600/HERS+3C+%25281%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"></a>HERS TO HEAL, book two in the Black Eagle Ops series, releases in twenty-one days. I can't wait for you to meet Reece, Gina, and little Piper, who will quickly tell you she's the next thing to a genius. She wants a daddy of her own. Her mother doesn't date. And Reece? Well, Reece can't run fast enough to escape the six-year old with bouncy blond curls, especially when she's got her little hands snagged in his heart. But a team of Russian child abductors are snatching blond young girls for human trafficking. And no one is taking little Piper away from this battle-hardened warrior. He'll take a bullet for her or her momma in a minute. <a href="https://amzn.com/B01CBM44Q0">https://amzn.com/B01CBM44Q0</a><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtdSIR3Bcp4HD0Nq-0BNjcBmFgURC_YRbWNVCY4VWK5SOHphjtuoTx7fsFZfL0Zv93WSaVPPzRl-mk1xOHESrKD93lcO3hvrJOuzWMMFZ0An4bEFkptpxX5LFtp7Wbpf5pPlncYCDDjc4/s1600/mylarballoonsStarBurst99cent.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="159" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtdSIR3Bcp4HD0Nq-0BNjcBmFgURC_YRbWNVCY4VWK5SOHphjtuoTx7fsFZfL0Zv93WSaVPPzRl-mk1xOHESrKD93lcO3hvrJOuzWMMFZ0An4bEFkptpxX5LFtp7Wbpf5pPlncYCDDjc4/s200/mylarballoonsStarBurst99cent.gif" width="200" /></a>To generate some buzz in the series, Loveswept has <b><span style="color: red;">reduced the price of book one, HER SURVIVOR, to 99 cents. </span></b>Dustin has seen and felt the hells of war. Now he's finding a taste of heaven in the arms of a feisty woman who's hiding dark secrets of her own.. <br />
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In this book, you'll get to meet the townsfolk of Warrior Falls and learn the myth behind Wounded Warrior Falls in the Hill Country of Texas. It's a slower pace of living where everyone knows everybody's business. And former SEALs coming into the area to stay and heal at their former commander's ranch are looked on with much curiosity. <a href="https://amzn.com/B0174PTMU2">https://amzn.com/B0174PTMU2</a><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi59BnYwlkfP4Itjr4iqvBFN5-GjkIYrDPs_YJSCcyoD9w6ivmPMok6HfPCDuRaP8a_5JecWxJ12kJT1DrCJQOOKBW7Rja_VrE35ymwQHPxMy4ohk68BNlOXE8NYmLmyayi5oPLxPLYiJk/s1600/Dustin+Meme.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="296" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi59BnYwlkfP4Itjr4iqvBFN5-GjkIYrDPs_YJSCcyoD9w6ivmPMok6HfPCDuRaP8a_5JecWxJ12kJT1DrCJQOOKBW7Rja_VrE35ymwQHPxMy4ohk68BNlOXE8NYmLmyayi5oPLxPLYiJk/s400/Dustin+Meme.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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Vonnie Davis ~ Romance Authorhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07360480832587538895noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-857180574575421857.post-48440211039698820502016-10-27T19:51:00.000-04:002016-10-28T10:05:06.814-04:00If You've Only Got One WIP, Writer's Block is Liable to Smack Your Head<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRBG4kXADTTUg_Msc1qnF3xtsfFu40M2XtxvrbEUIGb-GkYHHtk5cD5dU-hy1oyhEj22GztkGhmVBpOrj4vm47MWgRZS761kbxre__lanPvBPuefmzeKXYWGrpONX8nykVocqce85r8B8/s1600/thCGSVYRLN.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRBG4kXADTTUg_Msc1qnF3xtsfFu40M2XtxvrbEUIGb-GkYHHtk5cD5dU-hy1oyhEj22GztkGhmVBpOrj4vm47MWgRZS761kbxre__lanPvBPuefmzeKXYWGrpONX8nykVocqce85r8B8/s1600/thCGSVYRLN.jpg" /></a></div>
<span style="font-size: large;">The Oxford Dictionary describes </span><span style="color: #990000; font-size: large;"><b>WRITER'S BLOCK </b></span><span style="font-size: large;"> as "the condition of being unable to think of what to write or how to proceed with writing."</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">I've been there. Have you?</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">It's not pretty, folks. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">I'm a pantser by nature. I have a mental visual of how I want the story to begin and how I want it to end. I might have a few hurtles in mind for the couple to get across. but mostly I create as I write. And sometimes I write myself into a corner. My characters aren't happy with me. They sulk or bother me in my sleep. I've even had a hero refuse to talk to me for weeks. I finally sat him down and asked him what his beef was. "You've named me Dex. I don't like it. I want the name Mason." <i>Oh, for heaven's sake!!! </i> Yeah, they can be that picky and controlling.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">How do I typically handle writer's block? I set the book aside and open another story file. I keep 3 or 4 stories active at once. I try to have an assortment of sub-genres in wait, so my mind gets a rest. A mental switch from a contemporary to a paranormal or romantic suspense. A single book to a series. I write a chapter and then return to my main book in hopes my subconscious has worked through the problem I'd created. For me, this is a 3 or 4 day break. Enough to recharge.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Make no doubt about it. I never, ever stop writing. I just shift gears. Leave Scotland for Philadelphia. Kilts for power suits. Protective witch for a man-shy reporter.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Instead of staring at a blank screen for hours, I've been happily adding word count to another story, something fresh and different. I don't allow writer's block to get me down. I freshen up with something totally different. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Kinda like being on a low-carb diet, loving the results until the pounds stop coming off. Then you change up your workout and indulge with a cupcake a day. Sure you'll get back to that diet, but for a few days you've avoided the stress of denying yourself something you crave. You undo the extra calories by working out harder and longer. In a totally different way, you're making progress.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">If you write, how do you handle writer's block?</span><br />
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Vonnie Davis ~ Romance Authorhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07360480832587538895noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-857180574575421857.post-32686372625650095152016-10-21T00:00:00.000-04:002016-10-21T00:00:21.518-04:00Cecy Robson's "Of Flame and Light" and My Review<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #221f1f;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><b><i>The fire she once mastered so easily has become her greatest adversary </i></b></span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #221f1f;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><b><i>and is now slowly burning her alive . . .</i></b></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: large;"><b>OF FLAME AND LIGHT</b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: large;">Weird Girls #7</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: large;"><b>Cecy Robson</b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: large;">Releasing Oct 18th, 2016</span></div>
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<a href="https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/31428827-of-flame-and-light" target="_blank"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2cPwf1Q3A6fSCoFGPCv4m9XYhd4Fg_coAA5BoUpDxp30iGy-A1sO81nTjBaWTj3aScmo0tq2J9i_GBmM2YUR1VPHht4SUvNdV_9fxdh9ZcahNUDv3aAV0s1ldwaES_PYzTSk3vxEZRFA/s1600/Goodreads.jpg" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Taran Wird holds the unique ability
to conjure fire and lightning. She is mated to Gemini, Second in Command to
the Squaw Valley Pack of the Lake Tahoe Region, and the sole werewolf to
possess the ability to split into two wolves. And although they are mates, Taran's
insecurities have driven them apart. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Devastated by an injury that left
her with a zombie-like limb, Taran struggles to regain command over her magic.
But when her arm and her power turn against her, lashing out on those she most
loves, she knows she can no longer carry this burden alone. Not that she likes
the alternative.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">The only way to regain control of
her magic is to align and learn from the local coven of witches―the very ones
who sought to banish her when she and her three unique sisters first moved to
the mystical region. But although Taran is trying, the teachings don't come
easy, and the tasks leave her weak and emotionally shattered.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Yet Taran must learn and learn fast.
Time is running out. The fire she once mastered so easily has become her
greatest adversary and is now slowly burning her alive . . .</span><span style="font-family: "book antiqua" , serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: large;"><b>BUY NOW</b></span></div>
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<b><span style="line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: large;"><a href="https://www.amazon.com/Flame-Light-Weird-Girls-Novel-ebook/dp/B01J0SCGEK">Amazon</a> | <a href="http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/of-flame-and-light-cecy-robson/1124194240;">B
& N</a> | <a href="https://itunes.apple.com/us/book/of-flame-and-light/id1137611471?mt=11">iTunes</a> | <a href="https://store.kobobooks.com/en-us/ebook/of-flame-and-light">Kobo</a></span></span></b></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="background: white; color: #222222;">Cecy Robson is an award-winning
author of magical realms, to-die-for Alpha heroes, and young adult
adventure. A double RITA® 2016 finalist for Once Pure and Once Kissed, and published
author of more than fifteen titles, you can </span><span style="color: #222222;">typically find her on her laptop or stumbling blindly in search
of caffeine. </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: large;"><a href="http://www.cecyrobson.com/"><b>Website </b></a><b>| </b><a href="https://www.facebook.com/Cecy.Robson.Author"><b>Facebook</b></a><b> | </b><a href="https://twitter.com/cecyrobson"><b>Twitter</b></a><b> | </b><a href="https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/6177334.Cecy_Robson"><b>Goodreads</b></a></span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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MY REVIEW:<br />
<span class="a-size-base review-text" data-hook="review-body">This was the first book of the series I'd read, so I was a little lost on everyone's history. My bad. But as a grandma with a granddaughter born with her right arm ending about an inch below her elbow, I know of her emotional struggles to fit in. Is it any wonder my grandmotherly love and concern identified with Taran right away? I was on her side the whole way through the book and damn anyone who messed with her. Oh, I could have bitch-slapped Vieve and her smiling conniving ways--aren't they always the ones? And Gemini? He needed his shorts starched with fire ants. Okay, so grandma can be a little over-protective. But we're talking about a heroine who has lost her arm, had it replaced with an appendage that seems bent on destroying her, and her mate is acting all "ewww, you're not perfect anymore." She's tough, but her heart and spirit are damn near broken.<br /><br />As a writer of shifters, it's always good to read how other authors write them. We each have our own style, which is grand. Ms. Robson kept me engrossed with her story of human feelings and behaviors and paranormal activities. What a delightful blend. She wove a strong story that zipped me from anger to fear to laugh out loud humor to protectiveness for Taran. If an author can make me laugh until tears run down my face or make me grab for tissues as I cry, she has a new fan. Well done. Well worth the read. And well worth my going back and ordering the prior books of this remarkable series.</span><br />
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<span class="a-size-base review-text" data-hook="review-body">MY RATING: FIVE "EFFIE" PINK ROSES...</span><br />
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Vonnie Davis ~ Romance Authorhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07360480832587538895noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-857180574575421857.post-18328798421237907122016-10-16T23:05:00.001-04:002016-10-16T23:16:51.557-04:00Monday Musings by Vonnie Davis<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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My husband has a birthday today, Sunday--his 85th. There are a difference of 16 years in age between us, even though we all know I'm barely 39. We had a low key celebration, both of us just happy to have another day together. Especially me, for my biggest fear is losing my Calvin. <br />
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I'd existed through 12 years of loneliness after my divorce, too scared to reach out and try again. Still trying to work through the pain of it all. I think I was sending out strong "Can't Touch This" vibes. Some hearts heal quickly...some don't.<br />
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Then I met my hero, my soul mate, my champion.<br />
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How? Where?<br />
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Well, there's a story to that. It was the 12th anniversary of my divorce, a Friday. I bought take-out Chinese, a pack of Oreos, a bag of potato chips, and a bottle of wine. Oh folks, I was going to have a pity party for one and I planned to party hearty...cookie crumbs and all.<br />
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I don't drink a lot of wine. So by the time I was squeezing the last drops of vino out of the bottle, I was in the midst of a major crying jag. <i>I was a nice person...why couldn't I find anybody?</i> My ex never married the woman he had the baby with while we were still married. No, he married her best friend. Kinda makes your head spin, doesn't it?<br />
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Well, entrenched in the sugar and wine induced haze, I got on the Internet and joined Match dot Com. Lord only knows what I wrote on my profile. I sobbed into my last tissue and stumbled back to bed. <br />
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As sunlight poured though my bedroom curtains, I sat straight up in bed the next morning, hands over my ears so they wouldn't slide off my head, and exclaimed, "What have I done? I put myself on the Internet. Picture and all!"<br />
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I gentled my hungover head into my pillow. Tried my best to reach a calm state. After all, I was a grandma and a chubby one at that. Who'd be interested?<br />
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When I logged on, I found 8 emails from guys. I found some weirdos, some lazy bums hunting for a sugar momma to support them, and a few married men looking for a little action on the side. It didn't take me long to lose interest in the whole idea.<br />
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Two weeks later, I checked again. I actually found an intelligent email. "I read your profile with great interest. I see you majored in English. I taught English for forty years. You want to write. I'm about to have my second novel published. I took note you enjoy used book stores, yard sales, and outdoor concerts. I enjoy those things as well. Would you be interested in striking up a dialogue?" Yes, I have it memorized. <br />
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We emailed for a month, then progressed to instant messaging for hours, and one night he asked for my phone number so he could call and say goodnight in person. My heart beat an erratic pattern. He might be able to find me. I mean, who knew if he was telling me the truth? Sure we'd been "talking" online for 3 months, but...<br />
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I took a deep breath and gave it to him. As soon as I heard his deep voice, with a tinge of southern drawl, I was a goner. We were married a year to the date from when I received that first email from him.<br />
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Living with someone again hasn't been an easy adjustment. Learning to think of the other person first, to open up about past hurts, and to trust didn't come easy. I've been very lucky to find him. Calvin dotes on me...not so much materially, but emotionally which is exactly what I need. And we laugh. Our home is filled with laughter and love. Calvin's given me this.<br />
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Happy Birthday, my love. You complete me.<br />
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<br />Vonnie Davis ~ Romance Authorhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07360480832587538895noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-857180574575421857.post-51018788462690974032016-10-14T00:35:00.000-04:002016-10-14T14:15:03.105-04:00Finding My Voice Again<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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A writer's voice is very important. It's how a reader instantly recognizes your work. The way you put words together or begin a story or set up a scene. Somewhere along the way, I lost mine. Or had it edited out of me.<br />
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I was told to dummy down my writing. Use smaller words. Make my plots thinner...heck, if I could make anything thinner it would be my waistline. Write younger and not like an old woman. Hell, I'm 68, how am I supposed to sound? And, a toughie for me, no humor.<br />
<br />
So I tried to write according to the criteria dictated to me and lost myself and my voice in the process.<br />
<br />
I'm working very hard to get it back. How? By writing. Writing and more writing. I wrote a novella for Christmas and it took me forever because I didn't know how to be me anymore. I rewrote that dratted thing several times. My first draft was as dry as an over-roasted turkey. Nothing made me smile. I went over it again. Deleted. Added. Cried. Reworked that sucker. Cried some more. <br />
<br />
Eventually, UP THE CHIMNEY, was ready for self-publication. And today, I got a five star review that made me smile until my cheeks hurt. I'll share the first paragraph ... "<span class="MHRHead">I love Christmas but I don't ever read Christmas stories, or stories about Christmastime. I just don't care for them. But c'mon! This is Vonnie frikkin' Davis here! I LOVED her Highland Series and I'm a fan. And with VD (heheh) ya know it's gonna be a good experience (chuckling). This story is par for the course. Starting out the gate with humorous action, immediately roping in my interest."</span><br />
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AMAZON BUY LINK: <a href="https://amzn.com/B01LLZWUWI">https://amzn.com/B01LLZWUWI</a></div>
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A DEAL AT 99 CENTS.</div>
Vonnie Davis ~ Romance Authorhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07360480832587538895noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-857180574575421857.post-72378491534129092582016-10-10T00:00:00.000-04:002016-10-10T09:03:43.330-04:00Monday Musings: How does it feel to be a Hybrid Author? by Vonnie DavisWHAT IS A HYBRID AUTHOR?<br />
A writer who has traveled both paths to publication. Traditional publishers with a contract and self-publishing where you, the author, hire an editor, cover designer, and do all the marketing yourself.<br />
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When phrased like that, going traditional sounds better. But few good writers are able to get a contract. Editors want books written to the market. It makes no difference how well your book is written; if an editor doesn't see dollar signs, your literary baby won't be contracted. And, once it's contracted, you'll have roughly an 18 month wait until it releases. You can have 3 or 4 other books written by then.<br />
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When you self-publish, you get to write about what you want. For example, I can use my off-the-wall sense of humor. I can write to please my readers not my publisher's bottom line. I can write about the characters in my brain, not the ones dictated to me. There's more creativity control.<br />
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But, as I read other Indie authors, I realize we have to be edited to death to make us come off as professional writers. There are minor mistakes our eyes just don't grasp--and I include myself in this assessment.<br />
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Let's not even mention plot holes or mundane dialog or characters that are about as appealing as a case of poison ivy on your privates.<br />
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I never planned on going Hybrid. I didn't think I had a large enough following to make the gamble worth it. I still might not. But, for various reasons, I'm giving it a try. <br />
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Some of my indie works will be new editions of previously published works, like my award-winning STORM'S INTERLUDE and the RED HAND CONSIPIRACY, a three-book series set in Paris, Budapest, and Berlin. Handsome government agents, plucky women, terrorists--and humor, lots of humor. Some of my indie works will be new works, like my holiday read UP THE CHIMNEY. You see, I enjoy doing my own thing. I only hope my readers enjoy what my creativity produces for them. I'll keep you informed.Vonnie Davis ~ Romance Authorhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07360480832587538895noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-857180574575421857.post-5804737154488596362016-10-02T23:56:00.000-04:002016-10-02T23:59:31.279-04:00A FOOL FOR YOU by Katee Robert<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><b>It’s just a belated goodbye, right? No harm, no foul.</b></span></div>
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<b style="font-family: inherit; font-size: x-large;">A FOOL FOR YOU</b></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: large;">Foolproof Love #3</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: large;"><b>Katee Robert</b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: large;">Releasing Oct 3rd, 2016</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: large;">Entangled: Brazen</span></div>
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<a href="https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/29796814-a-fool-for-you?from_search=true" target="_blank"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMb_0ju-d1tV_7HZp4VerBqbhQxSsB-_CDcqytBMblemG_ucQQMeCBVeeA3tQZIvHuk4QpqprLdhBVfTbR28dBg_U_ePDy4tBYV8U_q7e1v8WDC9uGJXLFzZNJ-3mnKNywCtG1jQOGM-Y/s1600/Goodreads.jpg" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">It’s been
thirteen years since Hope Moore left Devil’s Falls, land of sexy cowboys and
bad memories. Back for the weekend, she has no intention of seeing the man she
never got over…or the two of them getting down and dirty. It’s just a belated
goodbye, right? No harm, no foul.<br />
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Until six weeks later, when her pregnancy test comes back positive…<br />
<br />
Daniel Rodriguez hasn’t forgiven himself for how things went down with Hope all
those years ago. He knows she’s better off without him, but when she shows up
on his doorstep, panicking because she’s pregnant with his baby, he can’t help
seeing it as a chance to make up for the past.<br />
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Too bad Hope has no intention of going along with his plans.</span><span style="font-family: "book antiqua" , serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><b>BUY NOW</b></span></div>
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<span style="line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: large;"><a href="https://www.amazon.com/Fool-You-Foolproof-Love-ebook/dp/B01M0QEKTK/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1473966007&sr=8-1&keywords=a+fool+for+you+by+katee+robert"><b>Amazon</b></a><b> | </b><a href="http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/a-fool-for-you-katee-robert/1124588841?ean=9781633757639"><b>B & N</b></a><b> | </b><a href="https://itunes.apple.com/us/book/a-fool-for-you/id1153562998?mt=11"><b> iTunes</b></a><b> | <a href="https://store.kobobooks.com/en-us/ebook/a-fool-for-you-1">Kobo</a>
| <a href="http://entangledpublishing.com/a-fool-for-you/">Entangled</a></b></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Other titles in the series</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span><a href="http://entangledpublishing.com/foolproof-love/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;" target="_blank"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2xlOiGzLDh6OLswC-GH2lP-tnx509zFERYQ6G6rQGEG26_CzlVk1rFEQDMwK0B3oXWjMlySQa1pyVsBuRHE8JHp36QdQj_BCR6lGOjwxjWu1HczZuiRr_iHfDPcYwll6mO5w_0UEzb9w/s320/29796304.jpg" width="213" /></a><a href="http://entangledpublishing.com/fool-me-once/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;" target="_blank"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKFefdQi37aZuxftrsvEluX7DXYWNfk2cIMRR-Hyz9C3E2kL3Nqao72tBhq2Je3kU57_i0feG5Z1Lf5XSwuWa9hMmX0c6BnXioOZ4luauJmNJhGaT_9u40zV5ge2yaB2N-77DLjFxvO1g/s320/29796439.jpg" width="213" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><i>New York Times </i>and USA TODAY bestselling author<b> Katee
Robert </b>learned to tell her stories at her grandpa’s knee. She found romance
novels at age twelve and they changed her life. When not writing sexy
contemporary and romantic suspense, she spends her time playing imaginary games
with her children, driving her husband batty with what-if questions, and
planning for the inevitable zombie apocalypse.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: large;"><a href="http://www.kateerobert.com/"><b>Website</b></a><b> |</b><a href="https://www.facebook.com/AuthorKateeRobert"><b> Facebook</b></a><b> | </b><a href="https://twitter.com/katee_robert"><b>Twitter</b></a><b> | </b><b><a href="https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/5398028.Katee_Robert">GoodReads</a></b></span><br />
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