Interview with Natale Stenzel

Jen: Please help me welcome Natale Stenzel to Book Talk this weekend. Natale, will you please share a short bio with us?
Natale: An avid reader and an incurable writer, Natale Stenzel has sold seven books for publication so far. The latest three are a series of funny paranormal romances published by Dorchester Love Spell. Pandora's Box, the first book in the series, was released in February 2008; The Druid Made Me Do It was an August 2008 release; and a third book, Between a Rock and a Heart Place, is scheduled for release in March 2009. Prior to the paranormal romance series, she wrote four books for Harlequin's now defunct Flipside line of romantic comedies.

Born and raised in St. Louis, Missouri, Natale earned degrees in English literature and magazine journalism from the University of Missouri-Columbia. Currently, she resides in Richmond, Virginia, with a husband, two kids and a shamefully spoiled hound.

Jen: Tell us about Between a Rock and a Heart Place and where it's available.
Natale: This is the third book in my series of funny paranormal romances featuring sexy, shape-shifting pucas, unexpected Druids, temperamental faeries, and even a flabbergasted human or two. The first book, Pandora's Box, was released in February 2008, and the second book, The Druid Made Me Do It, was an August 2008 release. With this third book, Between a Rock and a Heart Place (Dorchester Love Spell ~ March 2009), we meet another kind of magical being in my enigmatic hero, Tremayne, a powerful nature spirit. His job is simple and yet enormously complicated. For two thousand years, he silently served as jailer to Riordan, the puca from Pandora's Box; then we met Tremayne and wondered about him in The Druid Made Me Do It. In Between a Rock and a Heart Place, the Druids again call Tremayne into service, this time to keep a watchful -- possibly dangerously so -- eye over my heroine Daphne Forbes.

As an only child of feuding and exiled Druids -- the dethroned king and queen of the weirdo cult, in her opinion -- all Daphne wants is to start a new life far away from them. She wants to work and live among normal people who live in blissful ignorance of the existence of magic-wielding types like Druids, pucas and faeries. At long last, she has that new accounting job, that sleek new apartment, that new and utterly normal life lined up and waiting for her all the way on the other side of the country. Of course, this all blows up in her face. A stray thunk with no ordinary cornerstone and suddenly Daphne's a non-practicing but hereditary Druid wielding puca powers and trying to suppress a lifetime's worth of rage. The Druids won't let her leave town now that she's wielding undisciplined shape-shifting and mind-control powers -- a virtual powder keg just waiting for a stray spark to incite flaming chaos. That brings us to Tremayne. He's charged with helping Daphne learn how to control her powers or, failing that, *destroying* her in order to protect everyone else. This could prove difficult since he's been fascinated with Daphne for months now. Makes for a bit of a rocky romance, I guess you could say.

Where can you get a copy? Between a Rock and a Heart Place should be available in bookstores everywhere -- either already on the shelves or easily ordered at the help desk or at online bookstores. The first two books in the series can be ordered in person or online as well.

Jen: At what age did you discover writing and when were you first published? Tell us your call story.
Natale: I guess I 'discovered' writing when a teacher told me to discover it*g*. Seriously, I was about twelve or thirteen when a teacher asked me and a couple of other kids to help her start up a school newspaper because we didn't have one. (The school was pretty new at the time.) She said I was a good writer. So . . . suddenly I was a writer. And I never stopped writing; not then, not in high school where I wrote for and/or edited the school newspaper, not in college where I earned degrees in English literature and magazine journalism . . . and look, here I am still. A lost cause, I guess*g*.

As for my "call story" . . . actually it didn't even involve a telephone. It was really much cooler than that. I couldn't have asked for a better experience. I heard the good news in person -- at the 2002 Romance Writers of America conference in Denver -- that I'd sold FORGET PRINCE CHARMING to Harlequin. (It was published in November 2003 as part of their Flipside line.) When I heard those amazing words -- "we're going to buy your book" -- I (cringe) screeched in the editor's ears, blurted out my news amid tears to a stranger on the hotel elevator, giggled with it over the phone to my husband . . . and then celebrated for days with 2000 other people who knew exactly how much this news meant to me. Amazing. And yet really, really blurry. I slept hardly at all that whole conference. I was too excited to sleep! One really neat part: I wore that pink 'first sale' ribbon on my badge for the conference and people would always stop to congratulate me and ask for details. Eventually conversation would circle around to the question of *when* I made my first sale. My response: a mildly hysterical "three o'clock today" or yesterday or whenever. Eyes would goggle.

Jen: Are there any other writers, published or not, in your family?
Natale: There are a few English and journalism types perched in various branches of the tree. Also, my daughter's been writing stories since she was first able to read them. I think she's doomed*g*.

Jen: Describe your writing in three words.
Natale: lively, irreverent, dialogue-laden (I cheated a little with that last one)

Jen: Do you have a writing routine?
Natale: Sure. It's pretty traditional, actually: Monday through Friday, 8 or 9 am to 5 pm, with breaks for lunch, dog walking and Diet Coke runs. I reserve weekends and evenings for my family unless I'm up against a deadline.

Jen: How many hours a day do you write?
Natale: Oh, see, that's tricky. I'm on the computer a whole lot more than I'm writing. All my friends live there. Plus, productivity varies depending on how the story is going. Some days I get nothing done, some days I delete more than I write, and some days I pound out thirty pages. It all depends. And, if I'm on deadline, the hours get really hairy.

Jen: How do you pick the character’s names?
Natale: Baby naming books and online naming sites. Meanings do matter to me, but you also have to watch things like repeating names from past books, having too many characters with the same initial or same-sounding names. I also try to avoid wimpy sounding names, soap-opera-sounding names, names that remind me of unpleasantness. I will say -- obliquely -- that the names of my heroes in these books were chosen very deliberately. Oh, and of course, the heroine from Pandora's Box is Pandemina Dorothy Avery (although she goes by 'Mina'). Yes, I entertain myself*g*.

Jen: What’s the most challenging aspect of writing? Easiest?
Natale: Challenging - narrative and back story. I tend to skim a lot of it as a reader and generally don't like writing it much either (probably because I picture other eyes skimming my paragraphs). Easiest - dialogue. I love dialogue. Remember the journalism background? Nothing was more valuable than a good quote. And in fiction . . . I get to make them all up myself! Oh, the power. Seriously, my first drafts always have that talking heads problem. They're almost pure dialogue, so I have to go in and attach bodies to heads and plant them somewhere.

Jen: What’s the most rewarding aspect?
Natale: I love it when I'm completely engrossed in a story and come upon a blank spot, one I didn't know how to fill, and yet my fingers just keep typing on through it and I discover something brand new. Just a story twist or dialogue piece that I never saw coming and then there it was. Sure, it's just the subconscious at work, but it's really, really wild -- magical, even, in a Twilight Zone kind of way -- when you're in the middle of it.

Jen: Do you feel as if the characters live with you as you write? Do they haunt your dreams?
Natale: Nah. Sometimes, though, when I'm really lucky, I fall through into their world. If I'm quiet, don't make a sound, don't do anything except single-mindedly type what I see and hear while I'm there . . . It sounds goofy, I guess, but I have to try to get to them; they don't come to me. Also, they are who they are. I don't build characters; they already exist and my job is to recognize them and define what I experience. I can't force or consciously manufacture anything. It's frustrating.

Jen: What’s the most interesting comment you have received about your books?
Natale: Weeeeeeeeellllll . . . do you mean interesting interesting, interesting cool or interesting scary? I can do any of these. To err on the safe side, why don't I tell you an interesting cool comment that I received recently*g*. I know a lot of writers clip out pictures of their characters for visual aid while they're writing. I've never done that, but I usually have a mental picture of the character that begins as a vague sketch and then gets increasingly detailed as I go through the story until the picture is clear at the end. Well, somebody read one of my books recently and then e-mailed to ask me if I'd patterned my hero after so and so (an actor/celebrity). I didn't recognize the name and, as I said, that wasn't part of my process, so I said no . . . and who was he anyway? (I was curious.) So she e-mailed me a picture . . . goose bumps. Oh, my gosh! It was him! Like she saw right into my head and pulled out the picture of him. Seriously! And I have hair standing up on the back of my neck remembering it*g*. Very, very cool.

Jen: Who are some of your favorite authors and books? What are you reading now?
Natale: Oh, man. You're kidding, right? You should see my keeper shelves; dh built me a wall full of bookshelves less than a year ago . . . and I've already outgrown them. Sssh. Don't tell -- he would weep. There are so many that authors that I enjoy that I can't help forgetting somebody, but off the top of my head: Nora Roberts (loooooove her trilogies), Sherrilyn Kennyon, Christine Feehan, MaryJanice Davidson, Jayne Ann Krentz (in all her personae), Lori Foster, Julie Garwood, Katie MacAlister, Jennifer Crusie . . . oh, and cannot forget Kathleen Woodiwiss and Georgette Heyer. Who else . . . For romsuspense, I'd also recommend Jamie Denton, Mary Burton and Delores Fossen; for women's fiction, you have to read Tanya Michna and Isabel Sharpe; for fun romantic adventure, you can't lose with Lori Wilde or Jane Graves . . . I could go on and on, I told you. I'm stopping now to conserve page space*g*.

Jen: What's next for you?
Natale: I have a hard time talking about projects while I'm still writing them, but I can say that I'm still really drawn to paranormals and that I'm also experimenting with some fun contemporaries.

Jen: Where can you be found on the web?
Natale: http://www.NataleStenzel.com I'm also on Myspace, GoodReads, Shelfari, Facebook . . . look me up:). I love making new friends.

Jen: Is there anything you’d like to ask our readers?
Natale: Yes! What do you want to read? What is the romance novel market lacking for you right now? Anything you're sick of? Anything you want to see more of? No names, please, just generalities. We aim to please, you know*g*. Just to sweeten the pot . . . I'll be giving away a copy of either Pandora's Box or The Druid Made Me Do It to one commenter here on Book Talk. Winner gets to choose.

Jen: Readers, you heard her. She's giving away a book to a random commenter... so start commenting. I'll pick a winner on Sunday, March 8 around 5 pm PDT.

Excerpt from "Between a Rock and a Heart Place" by Natale Stenzel

From Chapter One

Still shaking, Daphne forced one foot in front of the other. The path. Where was the freaking path? She was so completely out of here, both shoes or not—

“Ms. Forbes.” A commanding voice from behind. Not Tremayne’s. Yeah, and speaking of freaking things, what the hell was Tremayne? Obviously he was not simply the mysterious private detective her mother had hired to tail her philandering and apparently criminal father. Daphne should have known there was more to him than had first met the eye. After all, she’d never been drawn so compulsively to anyone before in her life. Not to Warren, her one-time boyfriend and almost fiancé, and not to any man before or since then. She’d ignored them. Easily. Once burned, twelve times shy.

But since she’d first spotted him a couple months before, Tremayne had proven to be completely, disturbingly un-ignorable. Not only was she constantly aware of him on an elemental level, but it seemed there was no avoiding the man, period. He was everywhere, either one step ahead of her or almost on her heels, watching her, watching her parents. He drew her eye, her thoughts, her near obsession, in spite of her well-founded mistrust of interfering types. She hated feeling that way about any man. The lack of control galled and stunned her. It struck her as unnatural—and shouldn’t that have been a tip-off? Where was her head? No doubt about it, Tremayne had a whole lot more going on than a simple private detective would. Even a stunningly good-looking one.

“Daphne Forbes. Please. I realize you’re unsettled by what just happened here. Let us help you.”

She slowed and turned to look over her shoulder. It was that Druid guy her father hated, Phil something. He was also the High Druid, which would make him, in her opinion, the cult leader. If the crowd thought she was getting naked and submissive with that, they were as nutty as white-robed fruitcakes. Which they were, actually.

Well, the Druids were white robed. The puca and the faeries were dressed like any other schmoes on the street. Pucas and faeries. She felt like an idiot even silently acknowledging— Okay, sure, she’d read of the existence of such…beings…in her father’s journals, and she’d actually met two guys who claimed to be pucas, but faeries? Tinkerbell? She’d probably be doubting still—a smart girl didn’t believe everything she read—if she hadn’t just now watched a man who called himself faerie king summon others of his kind with a simple snap of his fingers. Just poof, and two women had appeared out of nowhere.

To think that most people had no idea they coexisted with beings like this. Other than model-perfect faces and bodies, these pucas and faeries looked human. That was so wrong! Where were the pointy ears and magic wands and slanting, googly eyes? Was a tail or pair of hooves too much to ask? The fact that freaks could walk among humans, controlling them, manipulating them, when humans were completely unaware of their existence or interference… It was intolerable. Daphne backed away from them all.

“Oh, no. I’m done with you weirdos. Do what you will with Daddy Dearest and his conniving and violent ways. He asked for every bit of justice you want to drop on his power-hungry head. Just count me out.” She turned and kept walking. Where had the path disappeared to? It was here, right here, just a moment earlier.

“We will deal with Duncan Forbes,” Phil said. “I am not asking you to intercede for him. I am concerned, however, that you might spontaneously shift shape again.”

She froze. Spontaneously… “You’re kidding me.” So, the cat thing could happen again?

But she hadn’t really changed into a cat. How could she have? Sure, she knew of the existence of shape-shifters—in myth and legend and, well, hearsay—but she was human. Humans did not change shape. So, obviously she’d just…had an episode. Or something. Maybe it was something she’d eaten. Or maybe that stupid cornerstone had really bounced off her head and done cerebral damage before landing on her foot. That would explain much. Like the zinging she still felt along her nerve endings, as though they were all conversing energetically. What would nerve endings have to discuss anyway? Hey, how’s the weather on your side of her ass? Kind of chilly over here.

I would say that there’s nothing remotely chilly about that ass of yours, said a voice out of nowhere.

She caught her breath. Tremayne’s voice? She was thinking about her own ass in Tremayne’s voice? That was just wrong.

So you did hear me. That answers all questions.

What did that mean? Maybe she was in shock. Or dealing with aftereffects from her episode. Was it an aneurysm? A stroke?

It means that you retain the puca powers that were discarded by the former puca Riordan, used by your father for foul purposes and then bound so temporarily inside that cornerstone. Those powers are now loosed from the stone…and tied to you. You wield the puca powers.

She whirled to glare at Tremayne, who stood unmoving, off to the side. “Are you insane?”

No. And before you ask, neither are you. Mindspeak is a puca power, as is shape-shifting. It’s apparent you have a strong natural talent for both. His lips never moved.

“Oh, no. That’s all on you.” She pointed a finger at him. “You’re the freak around here, not me. I’m human. I don’t ‘mindspeak’ and I don’t turn into a wolf after dark. The only ‘powers’ I wield involve math, taxes and the IRS. So why don’t you go find more of your kind and loiter somewhere…metaphysical. But leave me out of it. I have a flight to catch.”

“I’m afraid we can’t let you do that, Ms. Forbes.” It was High Druid Phil again, his calm almost exaggerated.

Daphne scowled. “Funny, how you have absolutely no say in the matter. I’m outta here. Now, where the hell did the path go?”

“It will return when the time is right.”

She whipped around to face Phil. “Return? What, the path is gone? You made it go away? Oh, but of course. You’re a Druid. Your type can do stuff like that. Guess that means I’ll have to strike out on my own. Cross-country and all.”

Steeling herself, she made a sharp left, kicking aside brush and ignoring the sharp edges of rocks and sticks beneath her bare foot. Stupid missing shoe. Had the cat eaten it? Her thoughts stumbled clear of that mental sidetrack.

Shoving through branches and brush that seemed to grow thicker, she felt perspiration dampening the material between her breasts. A drop of moisture slid down her spine. It was winter in Virginia—albeit a mild one—and here she was sweating all over her silk blouse, thanks to a misguided and badly timed attack of conscience. She would smell utterly rank by the time she set foot in the airport. And oh, look, a fresh stain on the sleeve of her blazer. Damn it! So much for getting her seat upgraded to first class.

She reached up with both hands to grasp a particularly thick grouping of branches obscuring her view and…pushed right back into the Druids’ circle?

They all patiently looked at her, thirty or so assorted males and females, all dressed in white robes and representing probably every walk of life, not to mention every brand and style of footwear. Also present were that handful of supposed faeries, a puca and a few non-Druid humans. All were staring at her. It was like Halloween, except scarier and with no candy to make her feel better. And they were all standing in that damn circle, right where she’d left them.

Which she would do again. Stoic, she turned her back on the group and raised a hand to shove at another branch.

“It won’t do you any good.” Phil spoke quietly. “Every path you take into the trees will lead back to this circle until I give you permission to leave.”

Daphne’s temper flared. Great. Another damn control freak of a Druid. Like she hadn’t seen enough of that as the daughter of Duncan and Violet Forbes as they acted out the Druid version of War of the Roses. But didn’t the warring spouses in that movie end up mercifully broken and forced to stare at each other as they expired? Like she could possibly get so lucky. No, if there was dying to be done in the Forbes household, her parents would undoubtedly crush Daphne between Mommy and Daddy so all three could expire simultaneously. On their terms. Never hers. She was so done with possessive control freaks, that right now she felt capable of—

Careful, Daphne. Your temper. You have undisciplined powers. If you hurt the Druid, even by accident, the penalty will be very high.

She glared at Tremayne. “Do you think invading my mind will make me any less inclined toward violence?”

Amusement glittered in his eyes.

He thought this was funny? Funny?

“Well, it is really refreshing to see someone as composed as you completely lose your temper. I imagine you can count on one hand the number of times you’ve made a scene like this in front of anyone,” he replied.

She narrowed her eyes. “If that’s your way of suggesting I take it easy and be a nice girl, I’m very much afraid your efforts are backfiring.” Very afraid. Very, very— Her breath hitched. Oh, god. She felt it again, the zings racing along her spine and veering outward to pelt various nerve endings.

Tremayne abruptly strode toward her. Unnerved by the force of his presence and her usual reaction to it, she backed up a step. But he kept coming until he stood just a pace away. His face expressionless and his manner calm, he gripped her shoulders with both hands. The zinging, which had accelerated to a mind-robbing frenzy, slowed and then dissipated. Daphne exhaled shakily, gazing sightlessly around the clearing. She wouldn’t meet his eyes.

“Daphne.” Tremayne murmured her name. “Look at me.”

Gritting her teeth, she peered through her lashes at him. “I’m looking. What should I see?”

Dark, nearly black eyes, fathomless depths she’d always found so unnervingly compelling, stared down at her. Calm overtook her. Oh. She inhaled deeply, drinking it in, and let her breath out slowly.

“Better?”

Strangely enough, it was. She eyed him warily. “What happened? Why is…” She gestured shakily at him and her and their silent audience. Everyone else seemed willing to let Tremayne deal with her, crazy as she was.

Copyright © 2009 Natale Nogosek Stenzel.
All rights reserved.

Review: "She Murdered Me with Science" by David Boop

Review by Melissa Cornwell

Here's the blurb from the book:
It's 1953 and disgraced scientist, now detective, Noel Glass works to redeem himself for an experiment that cost several lives. In walks a rich recluse who offers proof that Glass was framed. As he struggles to clear his name, Glass uncovers an organization bent on using his invention for world domination. Who can Glass trust when everyone is keeping secrets? From the desolate streets of Industry City to a showdown in Chi-town, Glass encounters death at every turn. He must rediscover the self he lost years ago and face off against a ghost he swore he laid to rest.

I really like the main protagonist, Noel Glass. He has his flaws besides possibly being responsible for his fiancee's death. He's a complex character, thrown into difficult situations. He doesn't know who he can trust. I can say that I couldn't see where this story was going, with all the twists. I love the details of the book, such as the processes by which Noel goes through to get him closer to his goal. There are so many characters too. The technical jargon also makes the book interesting. The obsession with DNA was fascinating. I feel as if I am actually in the scenes. I love the mix of politics and the breakthrough of science, as well as the representation of the political situation between the United States and Russia in the Post World War II times.

I absolutely loved this book. It was great to be able to read something that was written like this. I have never read the "pulp science fiction of the Forties and Fifties" and this was a great experience for me. David's characters were very in-depth as was the plot. I hope David continues to write books like these.

March Contest

I'm curious as to what most of our readers of the blog read -- genre wise. So, this month, leave me a comment about your favorite genre of book (be specific, like historical romance or urban fantasy) and tell me a little about why this is your favorite genre.

On Sunday, March 29 I'll pick a random commenter or two to win some book off my shelf. I'll try to give them something from their favorite genre (unless you like horror... then you're out of luck, but perhaps we can work something out). I strongly suggest leaving an email address or subscribing to the posts to see when the winner announcement is made.

Contest winner

Thanks to everyone who stopped by the blog today to support LaVerne Thompson. And it's time to annouce our contest winner.

Pen, you're the proud new owner of an ebook by LaVerne Thompson. Please swing by her website and pick which book you'd like to receive. Then email me at admin.bookblog@gmail.com with your selection. I need to hear from you by Sunday, March 8 or a new winner will be chosen.

Interview with LaVerne Thompson

Jen: Today we are happy to welcome LaVerne Thompson to Book Talk. LaVerne, will you please share a short bio with us?
LaVerne: I’m originally from Trinidad. I’m a wife and mother and I’ve been writing stories all my life. I’m now also a multi-published author (love saying that) and an avid reader of a variety of genres. I write contemporary, fantasy and sci/fi sensual interracial romances. But racial conflict is not an issue in my storylines. My fantasy work, Dragon’s Heart-Story of the Brethren, won first place in the 2008 Romance Slam Jam Aspiring Author Contest. Right now I’m working on several writing projects, more focused on fantasy and sci/fi.

Jen: Tell us about COME TO ME and where it's available.
LaVerne: My recent release COME TO ME is a contemporary romance available from Freya’s Bower. It’s for those people who believe in love at first sight. But if you don’t then how about love at first sound?

It’s the story about a man and a woman lonely for love and who got to know each other over the phone before actually meeting in person. The story came about because I was talking to someone about how sight, sound and scents trigger memories then the opening scene got stuck in my head one night and I sat down and wrote the first few chapters in about 2 hours.

Jen: At what age did you discover writing and when were you first published? Tell us your call story.
LaVerne: I started writing stories and poems at a very early age, before I was really old enough to know what I was doing. But I think I was 12 when I wrote my first full-fledged story about my dad getting robbed while riding in a cab. I re-write the end movies or rewrite books in my head. My first publication, PROMISES was published on Sept. 26, 2008 from Red Rose Publishing. It’s actually a story I wrote for a creative writing class back in college a million years ago. The story idea was based on my cousin marrying a family friend.

Jen: Describe your writing in three words.
LaVerne: Strong sensual romance

Jen: How do you approach your writing? Do you plot or go with the flow?
LaVerne: Some stories are like flashes of lightening, I see it all as I begin to type, I’m just along for the ride. Others I have an idea, a plot I jot down then think about for awhile, but even then once I sit down to write it takes on a life of its own. Which is why I don’t do outlines. My characters never bother to pay attention to them and have a strong tendency to go off in other directions. HOLD ON, my contemporary romance with a touch of suspense and violence from Red Rose Publishing, never started out as a suspense but my female character decided there was more going on in her life than I’d planned.

Jen: Do you have a specific time or place that you write?
LaVerne: I prefer my home office, or basement if I need to hide. I write whenever I can.

Jen: How do you shut out disruptions?
LaVerne: I turn off the email alerts on my computer. I try to do most of my writing when no one's home. If it’s a weekend I hide in the basement.

Jen: Do you do anything special to celebrate a sale, new contract, or release?
LaVerne: I dance around the room and go screaming through the house while my family looks on and shakes their heads. The last time my husband went out and got my favorite carry out.

Jen: Who has inspired you as an author?
LaVerne: I don’t think there is a person, other authors yes, a specific person no. If anything my inspirations are God given. Life, the world around me.

Jen: What five authors or people, from the past or present, have been important to you as an author? What question or comment have you always wanted to say to them?
LaVerne: Jane Austin, Julie Garwood, Deborah Smith, Robert Jordon, Anne McCaffrey. There are others but you said 5. I would thank them all for sparking my imagination, and showing me the way. Austin showed me there can be romance without any sexuality involved in the storyline, and how society can and does influence our decisions on how we love and who we love. Garwood showed me alpha males love the best, and anyone who wants to read or write romance should take a look at a few of her works. When I grow up I want to write like her. To Smith, she showed me how love can grow and the beauty behind the words. Jordon the complexity of a story can still make sense and keep me coming back, there is a fine line between good and evil that we all must balance. And to stretch my imagination beyond the limits of what I know. And McCaffrey taught me about dragons.

Jen: Do you feel as if the characters live with you as you write? Do they haunt your dreams?
LaVerne: Wake or sleep they’re with me. I hear pages of dialog in my head until I get it out on paper. One of my fantasy works involves shapeshifting dragons. I have woken up many nights with the sound of their roars ringing in my ear because they want me to finish their stories.

Jen: Most people only dream of becoming a published writer. Now that you’ve accomplished that goal, is there anything else you dream of doing?
LaVerne: I don’t know of many authors who don’t dream of making the NY Times bestsellers list. Well at least a positive mention by one of its reviewers.

Jen: What's next for you?
LaVerne: I’ve co-written a story that will be part of a series coming soon from Red Rose Publishing, I’m working on a sci/fi romance and a fantasy. I hope to have both contracted for this year. And I have a few other things in front of publishers and in various stages.

Jen: Where can you be found on the web?
LaVerne: http://lavernethompson.webs.com/ and friend me on http://myspace.com/lavernethompson or http://isisindcblog.blogspot.com/

Jen: Is there anything you’d like to ask our readers?
LaVerne: I love to hear from readers. My goal is always to learn, so do you prefer a romance with a HEA (Happy Ever After) or HFN (Happy For Now) ending?

Jen: Thank you LaVerne for joining us today. Readers, LaVerne will be at the blog today (and today only) to answer any questions you might have for her. At the end of the day (around 8pm PDT), one lucky reader will win their choice of any of her released ebooks. So leave a comment to be entered in the contest.

Excerpt from "Come to Me" by LaVerne Thompson

The mangled scents of perfume and sex teased Baron Munro as he turned his head and looked for a clock on the bedside table. There wasn't one. Didn't matter, it was time to go. He'd indulged them both long enough. Glancing at the tangle of long blond hair resting on the pillow near his head, he hoped its owner would continue to slumber. The last thing he needed was to explain why he wasn't going to spend the rest of the night, or any other, with her. He should have been long gone already, but he'd been exhausted even before the sex marathon. And that damned near drained him. Yet, he still felt unsatisfied.

In the last few months, no matter how much he indulged, he'd roll out of bed feeling as empty as he had before he climbed in it. Even with his brief hiatus from casual sex, this time was no different from any others. A break was not what he had needed. Whatever he was looking for wasn't here either.

Shifting, he eased his body off the bed and picked up his clothes where he'd thrown them on the chair earlier in the evening. Naked, his clothes clutched to his chest, he carefully opened the bedroom door. He closed it behind him and released the breath he'd been holding. After dressing in the hallway, he made his way fully clothed to her front door. When he reached the lobby of the building he dumped the card with the woman's name and number in the trashcan near a pillar. They'd been out a couple of times now; but he never saved her number in his speed dial. He wouldn't be calling her again. She was a mistake, another in a long succession of them.

At thirty-one, he was too old for this crap. He had to believe something more existed out there. Getting into his silver Porsche Boxster- S parked across the street from the building, he did a U-turn and headed toward his condo overlooking Pennsylvania Avenue in the heart of the District of Columbia. By the time he turned into his garage, the clock on his dash read two A.M. A white signboard with black lettering proclaiming the second level loomed before him. Rounding the corner, he expected to pull directly into his reserved parking spot; instead, a red Thunderbird sat there.

“What the hell?” he snapped. “Unbelievable!” Stopping behind the car, he whipped out his cell phone and called the building manager. It was her job to take care of things like this at the condo.
Her sultry voice came on before the ring had finished its first vibration, as if she waited by the phone for his call. He wished.

This wasn't the first time he'd spoken to Jasmine Sandler and it wouldn't be the last. Not if he had anything to say about it. She gave him hope. In truth, since she became the building manager six months ago, he'd taken every opportunity to talk to her, to try to get to know her--even if her voice wreaked havoc with his libido, sending it into overdrive whenever he heard it.

Their flirting had begun from the very first time he'd spoken to her, and she'd flirted right back. He'd tried several times to meet her, but she always put him off. No one he knew in the building had ever seen her, but everyone he'd spoken to about her agreed she had a sexy voice. The kind that had him taking cold showers a couple of times after talking with her. No matter how often he told himself she was probably sixty, with four kids, nothing helped. If she looked half as hot as she sounded on the phone, he'd still want her.

Contest winner announcement

In our redraws for copies of Rock Me and The Magic Knot, our winners are Terry D and Bobbi K. They've each been notified of their wins.

I still need to hear from the winner of JK Coi's contest. Lara Lee, please contact me my Thursday to claim your ecopy of Dark Immortal.

And last, we have a winner of this weekend's promo with Charlotte Boyette-Compo. Elle Amery, you've been chosen. Please stop by Charlotte's website (http://www.windlegends.org) and pick out which ebook you'd like to receive. Please email me at admin.bookblog@gmail.com and let me know the title, publisher and format you'd like to receive. I need to hear from you by next Sunday, March 8 or another winner will be chosen.