Monday's Mumblings and Musings

A lot of my writing revolves around my dreams. I suppose sleep time is the only time my ego steps out of the way and allows my mind to work. My edits for book two of "Black Eagle Ops" were done except for inserting chapter one of book three into the back as enticement. No biggie. I was halfway through chapter three and in love with the book so far.

Then my editor called.

We talked about several things. One of which was changing the story of book three from the romance of ZQ, the commander of Black Eagle Ops, and a romance writer to the romance I'd slowly been building for a bi-racial couple. I'd planned JJ and Ashley's romance to develop at a snail's pace since she'd been brutalized by ISIS radicals. Poor Ashley had a lot of healing to do. My goal had been for a happy-for-now ending for them. More than a friendship, but nothing sexual. Now, she's to be the focal point of a romance I feel she's not emotionally strong enough for. Oh goodness, what to do, what to do?

I restarted the book several times. Nothing worked. Last night I was pretty bummed when I went to bed. I'd had a weak start that would work, but nothing fabulous. Early this morning, I woke up from a dream of reading a review..."I don't care what Vonnie Davis writes as long as she starts her story in the middle of the action." I groaned something like "lots of luck with that" and rolled over. At six-thirty I woke up and the beginning to the book, HER FOREVER HERO, was right there ...

Ashley Vogel wasn’t sure which one had swooped down on her too aggressive date first—the Black Angel of Death or his trained war dog. But the man who’d been too stupid to understand the word “No” from her lips suddenly understood “get the hell away from her” when it growled its way up the back of former SEAL Jerryl Jacoby’s throat.

In fact, Ordinance, the service dog better known to members of SEAL Team 5 as Nance, still had an iron-clad jaw grip on John Harris’s ass as he sprinted for his beat up truck. Hell, the man yelled like a sissy just because a German shepherd was teaching him some manners.

Have a great Monday, everyone. My first chapter is done and rewritten twice and off to the editor. There's nothing like allowing your subconscious to work for you.

STARTING 2012 WITH A CONTEST!

Well folks, the hoopla is over. Christmas is behind us for a few months, at least until Halloween when stores start playing "Have a Jolly Holly  Christmas." The excitement of New Years Eve is now gonging in our heads, or didn't you indulge? Today it's pork and saurkraut and football games. Tomorrow, the reality of routine.

I'm wading through edits my agent wants in Rain is a Love Song, a romantic suspense set in Paris and Budapest. The story involves an American crime scene photographer and a hunky French counterterrorism agent trying to stop The Red Hand, a group of terrorists. This is book two of a trilogy. Book one, Mona Lisa's Room, is under contract and survived the first round of edits with my editor.

How many times does a book go through edits, you ask? Depends on the quality of the publisher, don't you think? Some are so woefully understaffed, that poor writing often slides through. I'm glad my publisher, The Wild Rose Press, is so strict. Why? Because I'm still unsure of my writing abilities. Oh, the stupid mistakes I make...groans and slaps forehead.

Believe me, there's nothing so humbling as going through edits. I keep thinking I'm getting stronger, that I'm learning to avoid the same old mistakes. Before I send any writing project away again, I'm doing a search for the word "was". That bad boy slips in my sentences far too frequently. Then there's the pesky "that" or "just". And WHY can't I start a sentence with "and"? It's a transitional phrase, is it not?

Since you've been so kind to read my rant, I'm giving away a free eCopy of Storm's Interlude to one lucky commenter. So leave a comment and your email address so I can reach you should your name be drawn. And, folks, have a grand, happy, healthy 2012. Hugs!