Nice Girls Don't Write Naughty Books

GIVEAWAY: Help Me Spread the Word About Driving Mr. Dead

2012-01-30T06:04:00.006-06:00

DRIVING MR. DEAD is being released on eBook on Tuesday, Jan. 31 wherever eBooks are sold. I would appreciate some help from my lovely readers in spreading the news about the launch. So, I am offering ten copies of DRIVING MR. DEAD, to be emailed as gifts from Amazon.com on Feb. 3.

To qualify, announce the eBook release on your blog, Facebook page, Twitter account, Tumblr, or the social networking venue of your choice. If you tag me in the post - (Molly Harper, Author on Facebook, @mollyharperauth on Twitter) - it would help me track your entries. Be sure to post about your activities in the comment section below (including links if available.) For every announcement you make, you will get one entry in the giveaway

Winners will be selected at random on Feb. 3 and announced here.

Thanks for your help!

PS, if you post in the comment section and it doesn't appear right away, don't panic. Thanks to spammers, I had to set up my account to approve comments before they appear.

Invite me to your book club!

2012-01-19T19:41:00.002-06:00

With NICE GIRLS DON'T BITE THEIR NEIGHBORS coming out on Feb. 28, 2012, I am making myself available to book clubs discussing any of my books via Skype. Just contact at me jane.jameson AT hotmail.com and I will be happy to discuss sheduling.

Please remember that a book club is more than one person. If I log on to Skype and see a guy in his bathrobe, drinking beer and waving around a copy of HOW TO FLIRT WITH A NAKED WEREWOLF, I will close my browser immediately.

Cover blurb for CARE AND FEEDING OF STRAY VAMPIRES

2012-01-18T19:15:00.003-06:00

This is the new cover copy for THE CARE AND FEEDING OF STRAY VAMPIRES, to be released in August 2012.

Iris Scanlon, Half-Moon Hollow’s only daytime vampire concierge, knows more about the undead than she’d like. Running all their daylight errands—from letting in the plumber to picking up some chilled O neg—gives her a look at the not-so-glamorous side of vampire life. Her rules are strict; relationships with vamps are strictly business, not friendship—and certainly not anything else. But then she finds her newest client, Cal, poisoned on his kitchen floor, and only Iris can help.

Cal - who would be devastatingly sexy, if Iris allowed herself to think that way - offers Iris a hefty fee for hiding him at her place until he figures out who wants him permanently dead. Even though he’s imperious, unfriendly and doesn't seem to understand the difference between "employee" and "servant," Iris agrees, and finds herself breaking more and more of her own rules to help him - particularly those concerning nudity. Turns out what her quiet little life needed was some intrigue & romance—in the form of her very own stray vampire.

Trailer for NICE GIRLS DON'T BITE THEIR NEIGHBORS

2012-01-07T00:03:00.000-06:00

NICE GIRLS DON'T BITE THEIR NEIGHBORS gets a starred review in Publishers Weekly

2012-01-03T13:51:00.001-06:00

This made me squeal a little, I won't lie.

New Year's Resolutions that I stand a 90 percent chance of fulfilling

2012-01-01T15:12:00.004-06:00

Every year I make resolutions that last about three days. Apparently, I'm not all that resolute. But I am a goal-setter. You have to be, if you're going to be a writer. You set daily word count goals. You set a goal to meet your deadline. You vow that one day, your name will appear on the New York Times bestseller list. (Still working on that one.)

And since my first book came out in 2009, my primary goal has been making the transition to full-time writer. It's not that I don't enjoy my job as an editorial coordinator at a medical society. But between working full-time, parenting two small children, keeping our house running and writing from 9 p.m. to "whenever I feel like I'm done" every night," there are times when I'm spread pretty thin.

When I first started out, a more experienced writer told me that it took an average of six to seven books on the shelf before an author could write full-time. Well, my seventh book came out this week, and as of Jan. 31, I will be a full-time author.

I am very excited about this change and what it will mean for my family. And ever since we realized that this was something that WOULD be happening, I started getting antsy. Why? I didn't have a goal anymore. I'm one of those type A personalities that needs parameters.

So I started setting small goals for what I would do after I left my job. I would call them resolutions, but if I did, there's a very good chance I'd never get them done. So here they are:

-Write when there are no other people in the house, so I don't spend precious time when they are home glued to my computer.

-Read more than one book per month

-Finish sewing Carter’s Christmas stocking. He's three years old. He's going to notice that his is the only storebought one in the family.

-Answer all reader emails the day I receive them.

-Join a regional RWA chapter.

-Blog at least once a week.

-Go to the gym so often that the staff actually recognizes me when I show up. At this point, they demand proof of identity and membership when I try to walk in.

-Volunteer in Darcy's school library.

-Read all of the Serendipity books to Carter.

-Wear nothing but yoga pants for a month.

-Buy more yoga pants.

-Consider taking a yoga class.

-Convince David that yoga pants are not, in fact, sweat pants.

-Get more than four hours of sleep per night.

-Plant a vegetable and herb garden that might survive past the seedling stage

-Bake from scratch again.

-Take up cake decorating again.

-Get a tan.

-Update my web site more often.

-Participate in more online contests and conversations.

-Have lunch with friends more often.

For now, I'm wrapping up the loose ends at my office and trying to leave a good parting impression on my co-workers. On Feb. 1, don't be alarmed if you loud snores. I will be sleeping in.

DRIVING MR. DEAD is now available from Audible.com

2011-12-27T08:31:00.002-06:00

My new novella, DRIVING MR. DEAD, is now available as audio exclusive at Audible.com

To order, click here . You can only find it at Audible!!

Driving Mr. Dead will be available on TUESDAY!

2011-12-20T19:19:00.003-06:00

My new novella, DRIVING MR. DEAD, will be available from Audible starting Dec. 27. That's TUESDAY!! The eBook version will be available from Pocket on Jan. 31.

The synopsis is below.

HELL ON WHEELS

After failing as a magician's assistant, a photographer, and most recently, a bride, Miranda Puckett takes a position as a driver for Beeline, Half-Moon Hollow's premiere vampire concierge service.

Miranda's assignment? Driving Collin Sutherland, the world's most fastidious vampire from Washington to Kentucky, so he can deliver a mysterious black case to Council official Ophelia Lambert.

Collin, a paranoid, aristocratic vampire with a debilitating fear of flying, refuses to let the case out of his sight. Miranda needs this time on the road to decide whether to permanently cut her ties with the fiance that had an "emotional affair" with a childhood pal, but Collin’s neatnik tendencies are driving her around the bend. The man acts as if leaving a fast food wrapped on the passenger seat is reason for a full-on CDC de-contamination scrub-down of the car. All she can do is promise to stop intentionally doing the things that make his stiff upper lip twitch with irritation.

As more and more mishaps occur on the road trip from hell, Miranda and Collin work together to meet his delivery deadline. Hotel rooms are destroyed. Beloved cars are defiled. And somewhere along the line, client-driver hostilities become snarky flirtation.

Will Collin and Miranda make it to the Hollow in one piece? And if they do, will Miranda leave old, safe relationships behind for something new and well, just plain weird?

I shouldn't have encouraged them to speak

2011-12-18T18:32:00.002-06:00

My children are ruthless.

Darcy, 7, and Carter, 3, burned David and I twice today in a thoroughly humiliating fashion.

Exhibit A: This morning, we took the kids to Steak-n-Shake for breakfast. I told Darcy that I used to come that very restaurant when I was in high school. She pointed to the original Steak-n-Shake pictures from 1937 and asked, "You mean back when those pictures were taken?"

Facepalm.

While David nearly choked on his coffee, Darcy patted my shoulder and said, "Don't worry, Mom. You're still cool, even if you're old."

David wasn't laughing for long.

Since he wears closed toe shoes all of the time, David is usually our, "What does this nail polish color REALLY look like?" guinea pig. His silvery pedicure was getting strange looks in the gym locker room, so I gave him a more subtle champagne polish with shimmery gold glitter. I was just finishing up with his toes, when Carter walked into the room. I asked if he wanted his toenails painted and he responded, "No thanks, I'm not a girl."

I have no one to blame but myself. Clearly, sense of humor is genetic.

The Stockings are Hung by the Chimney With Care...

2011-12-17T09:59:00.008-06:00

Christmas stockings are my favorite part of the annual Christmas gift exchange. My mom used to put together some fantastic stockings for the three of us kids. So when I Christmas shop for my husband and kids, I always leave healthy room in the budget for stocking shopping. The kids are always easy, some candy, some smaller toys, Pez dispensers and bath products that smell like candy, and they’re done.

Stockings for adults are more difficult, particularly if you’ve been married to that person for a while. David and I are coming up on our 20th Christmas together, and its official, I am relying on themes to direct me. I’ve done them all. The Movie Stocking, the Bizarre Candy Stocking, the Fishing Gear Stocking. And generally, they’ve been well-received. The Bacon Stocking did not go over as well as I’d hoped. (See below)

So here’s a list of ideas for that special someone, to help you out in these final days of Christmas shopping.

The Traditional – A cute Christmas ornament, their favorite candy, one of those frighteningly large candy canes, and your favorite Christmas DVD. A Christmas Story is a good choice. We always end up watching it way before the Christmas Eve mega-marathon.

The “Do You Remember Everything About Our First Date?” Stocking – Recreate your first date with the DVD of the first move you saw together, gift cards to the restaurant where you first had dinner, etc. Remember to include silly reminders like game tokens, movie candy, or a big fluffy Scrunchie like you used to rock in the old days.

I put a big red lollipop in my husband’s, because my mother-in-law scheduled a doctor’s appointment for then-16-year-old David right before he was supposed to pick me up. So our date began at his doctor’s office.
This is sort of a long-term-relationship only theme. If you’ve only dated a few weeks, this might come across as sort of psycho.

The "Athletic Support" Stocking – Did you know that Jelly Belly makes jelly beans for runner’s? It sounds like a racket, but they’re called Sports Beans, and they include extra caffeine , carbs and potassium that runners need mid-race. There are all kinds of weird little pick-me –ups you can gather for your favorite athlete’s stocking, gels, powders, beans and cubes. I also threw in some special supportive socks, a bright orange hat, and nipple shields. I know that sounds weird, but if you or your spouse have ever run a marathon, you know why.

The Bacon Stocking - Go to a site called ThinkGeek and go to the Zombies and Bacon section. Last year, David got bacon jelly beans, bacon lip balm, a bacon-and-chocolate bar, bacon soap and bacon salt- a substance that makes everything taste like bacon. He did not appreciate the bacon lip balm or jelly beans, for the record.

The “This is Our Last Christmas With Just the Two Of Us” Stocking – When I found out I was pregnant right before Christmas, I prepared a stocking that included Be Prepared- The Practical Handbook for Dads and The Worst Case Scenario Survival Handbook for Parenting because he finds that kind of thing amusing.

I also included a Baby’s First Christmas ornament for the next year, restaurant gift cards, and information on getting his fishing renewed because the coming spring and summer was going to be his last chance for a little while.

The Camping Stocking – It’s amazing how many little gadgets you can find for camping. Pocket knives, compasses, small first aid kits, all-in-one utility tools, and funny headlamp LEDs. I avoided the little rolls of quick-dissolving toilet paper, because that seemed mean.

The Kitchen Stocking – Again, go to any cookware web site and you can find dozens of little gifts for your favorite chef. Digital meat thermometers, weird little measuring tools , exotic spices (Spanish smoked paprika is our favorite), small cookbooks, and other gadgets like garlic presses and “no ouch” veggie peelers.

Like I said, we’ve been together for a while and David loves to cook, so there been several variations of this theme, including the Baking Stocking, the BBQ Stocking, and Candy Making Stocking.

The Chuck Norris Stocking – Yes, this can be accomplished. Books, t-shirts, post-it notes, coffee mugs- there are any number of small gifts celebrating America’s favorite badass. Google it. Of course, this Christmas stocking list only exists because Chuck Norris allows it.

A word about XXX-Rated Stockings. This is not an amateur move. This is for well established relationships only. And you should be VERY VERY careful before selecting each and every item you put in that stocking. If you don’t understand what it does or what it’s for, ask the clerk at the adult store, even if he creeps you out. Which he inevitably will. The bottom line, which is a bit of an unfortunate pun, is that you should not put any adult toy or prop in your loved one’s stocking unless you’re willing to use it. Otherwise, you’re sending a bit of a mixed message. Feelings will be hurt, parts can be chafed- it will spell Christmas disaster.

Just put some thought into what your partner really likes and have fun!!

Ho Ho Holy $#@%!

2011-12-03T16:00:00.001-06:00

Christmas Eve has always been sort of special for David and me. As teenagers, we went on our first date on Dec. 22, 1992, and then, two days later, I informed him that I wasn’t dating anyone else- and neither was he. Clearly, this wasn’t enough of a warning sign for him because six years later, he proposed on Christmas Eve. In his truck, in the middle of a snowstorm, because his elaborate plan to take me to the Christmas-lit gazebo was ruined.

Cutest, frustrated new fiancee ever.

So, now, after having Christmas Eve dinner with his family, it’s our tradition to put the kids to bed, put out the presents from Santa- (Who is totally real, kids. We’re just doing his assembly-work.) and then open our presents to each other.
Because we’re movie buffs, who enjoy somewhat “off-beat” titles, these gifts inevitably include some DVD of a slightly raunchy comedy.

And because we’re sort of weird, we spend our Christmas Eves, watching inappropriate movies, over-eating and drinking cocktails that taste like snowcones. Most wonderful time of the year, indeed.

Our Off-Beat Christmas Eve tradition began years ago, with Saving Silverman. A truly bizarre romp in which two lovable losery-goofs – Steve Zahn and Jack Black- try to assure their friend’s happiness by separating him from his scary controlling girlfriend, Amanda Peet. Low-brow, cringe-worthy and utterly hilarious. What other movie can offer iconic drill sergeant R. Lee Ermey playing Jack Black’s unlikely boyfriend?

And it makes us feel sort of uncomfortable that we can now watch Jack Black and Amanda Peet in a kids’ movie, Gulliver’s Travels.

So what do you need to create this tradition in your home? Besides children who sleep through really loud laughter?

Start with snacks. Sausage balls, bacon pinwheels, and Chex Mix are ideal. But once you pick a flavor group (savory and crunchy vs. sweet and gooey) stick with it. Mixing too many types of snacks with fruity mixed drinks will not lead to a happy Christmas morning.

Add any of the following titles.

The Hangover – I will admit, I did not expect to like this movie. I do not like Bradley Cooper, sexiest man alive or not. (I mean, he might be sexy or not. I’m pretty sure he’s alive.) But I was able to ignore him for the hapless charm of the rest of the weirdos in this movie. I do, however, duck every time I open my trunk. Because you never know.

Forgetting Sarah Marshall – If you can survive Jason Siegel’s uber-awkward prolonged frontal nude scene in the opener, everything else is cake.

Hot Tub Time Machine – I’m not sure about the time-travel science behind this movie, but it involves John Cusack being adorable and confused, so I’m in. Hide the forks from your angry girlfriend before watching.

Friends with Benefits- Funny, great chemistry between the actors, lots of well-choreographed sex scenes. Occasionally, it falls victim to the very clichés its mocks, but overall, very enjoyable.

Due Date – I can sympathize with Robert Downey, Jr’s., character since I have fallen victim to people capable of derailing one’s entire life while traveling. In my case, however, these forces of destructive nature were related to me and escape was impossible.

Dinner With Schmucks – Once you get past the creepiness of the mouse taxidermy, this is a really charming, silly movie. Lots of quotable lines, chaotic group dialogue scenes, and Zack Galafinakis in a dickie.

So, there you have it, a recipe for an irreverent, relaxed Christmas Eve. Taking a little bit of time for yourself really helps recharge your batteries before the marathon of “joy” on Christmas Day.

Holidays at the Harper House or "How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love the Stuffing"

2011-11-24T08:26:00.003-06:00

I shared this story last year with the nice people at Jane Porter's blog, and I wanted to give you guys a glimpse of some of the strange, wonderful formative experiences that warped my view of the world.

And so, I give you, The Flaming Stuffing Story.

My late grandmother, Marjorie, was one of those Ivory soap and oatmeal cookie grandmas. She had an eye for flashy accessories and always dressed to the nines. She raised four of the biggest smartasses to ever tread the Earth’s surface – my mother, Judy, and my uncles, Dan, Pat, and Ned.

When I was in high school, the family was thrown into a panic when Grandma’s doctors announced that she had late-stage cancer. She wasn’t expected to live for more than a few months.* Determined to create some happy family memories in her remaining time, we gathered all of the Thompson uncles, various aunts and cousins in the same room for the first time in about 10 years. Did I mention that this room was in our house?

My Mom was struggling to keep our house’s foundation from giving way and cook a Thanksgiving meal for a crowd that seemed to exponentially expand. Every time someone ate a sausage ball, two more people seemed to show up. Used to preparing these gargantuan holiday meals herself, Grandma was struggling with the idea that she was not in charge of Loaves and Fishes. She kept sneaking in and out of the kitchen to offer Mom helpful advice.

Mom asked the uncles to distract her, but apparently, Grandma was wilier than any of us gave her credit for. When Mom took the dressing out of the oven and set it on the stove, she turned her back to direct my sister and me in the peeling a metric ton tons of potatoes. Behind her, Grandma had ambled into the kitchen. A

ccording to family lore, Grandma put a pot on the stove for some planned sweet potato and marshmallow concoction and turned on the wrong burner — the one under the container of dressing. Distracted by the calls of my legion of cousins, Grandma shuffled silently out of the kitchen like a ninja in StrideRite shoes, forgetting about the burner.

Mom noticed the smoke about 10 minutes later.

Shrieking, Mom grabbed two oven mitts and whisked the smoldering side dish from the stove. In an impressive “physics in everyday life” lesson, cool air hit the hot glass, and the casserole dish exploded. Mom was left with two casserole dish ends in her hands and a lump of perfectly rectangular, molten dressing burning a 9×13 hole through her linoleum.

The rest of the brood came running as Mom fell to her knees and let loose a string of expletives that made an episode of The Sopranos sound like Sesame Street. This was the moment my future husband, David, who was spending his first holiday with my family, chose to come through the front door. If he had run away, leaving a David-shaped hole in the wall, I wouldn’t have blamed him.

Grandma just patted my mom on the head and said, “Don’t worry, honey, we’ll pick the glass out, and it will be just fine.”

True to Thompson, “I’ll do it when I’m good and ready” form, Grandma went on to live until May 1996. We had a precious few more holidays with her, and no holiday moment since has ever inspired the sheer horror and hilarity as The Exploding Dressing Incident. Though it was tense, loud and made the house smell like burning tires, it’s a story that always comes up when we’re reminiscing about Grandma.

You don’t know what you’re missing with your family members until they’re gone. While we’re caught up in little things like which relatives are chronic re-gifters and how to keep the “highly strung” cousins out of the egg nog, we miss out on some of life’s strangest, sweetest moments. If we all just take a deep breath and pick the glass out of the dressing, we’ll be fine.

For the record, we didn’t eat the glassy-riddled dressing. My dad and my aunt searched every grocery and gas station until they found the last box of stovetop in western Kentucky.

NAKED WEREWOLF books nominated at TRR

2011-11-16T13:23:00.001-06:00

Both HOW TO FLIRT WITH A NAKED WEREWOLF and THE ART OF SEDUCING A NAKED WEREWOLF have been nominated by reviewers for Best Paranormal Romance – Shifters (2011) at The Romance Reviews.

I'm up against some really great authors and many of my Pocket Books brethren are nominated as well.

Click here to find the voting page! Thank you!

Pre-Order my first spin-off to the Jane Jameson series here!

2011-11-06T16:29:00.003-06:00

Hey All,

My first spin off title of the Jane Jameson series, THE CARE AND FEEDING OF STRAY VAMPIRES can be pre-ordered here at Amazon.com.

The book, released July 31, 2012, is about Iris Scanlon, who runs a “daywalker service” for vampires in Half-Moon Hollow. While there are more all-night businesses that have opened up since the Great Coming Out, vampires still have trouble running errands and keeping their households running in a human, day-time oriented society. Also, some of them are just lazy.

Iris’ new service is booming and life is good until she walks into her newest customer’s house to find him dying on his kitchen floor. The vampire, Cal, offers her an obscene amount of money if Iris will get him out of his house and shelter him until he can heal up again. Wacky hijinks and romance ensue.

A Guide To Surviving Whatever Halloween Throws at You

2011-10-31T19:51:00.003-05:00

So, as usual, I've been watching way too many horror movies in the lead-up to Halloween. And because I tend to over-think these things, I've started composing lists of things I need to watch for just in case I'm destined for some sort of SyFy Channel Halloween death match. And because you're my blog peeps, and I love you, and I want you to survive if such a situation comes up, I thought I'd share them with you.

Five signs you are about to be bitch-slapped by the zombie apocalypse.
1) You have drunkenly stumbled into a mausoleum, hunting cabin, abandoned hospital/mental ward, derelict amusement park or closed shopping mall to do something juvenile and asinine.

2) You recently achieved a life milestone- marriage, a promotion, pregnancy, or retiring. In zombie movies, God will only let you be happy for so long.

3) You fiddle with chemicals and/or bio-hazardous materials you neither appreciate nor understand.

4) You are feisty and/or plucky. Zombies are drawn to "plucky" like ants to an open Coke can. And your Coke can is full of delicious brains.

5) Despite having never touched a gun before, you discover a heretofore unknown mastery of badass weapons.

Five signs you are about to be possessed or eviscerated by a ghost
1) You have drunkenly stumbled into a mausoleum, hunting cabin, abandoned hospital/mental ward, derelict amusement park or closed shopping mall to do something juvenile and asinine.

2) You find an amulet inscribed with a Satanic symbol, a book bound in human skin, or some other object the locals describe as “cursed,” then stick it in your pocket as a souvenir.

3) You bear a striking resemblance to any person in the history of any place. Ever.

4) Your ancestors did something really, really douche-y, once upon a time.

5) You have been told a local legend about a spirit that devours attractive twenty-somethings, turns attractive twenty-somethings inside out, or skins attractive twenty-somethings and turns them into puppets or household furnishings. But you ignore it. It’s just a story, right?

Five signs you are about to ironically murdered by a serial killer.
1) You have drunkenly stumbled into a mausoleum, hunting cabin, abandoned hospital/mental ward, derelict amusement park or closed shopping mall to do something juvenile and asinine.

2) Someone in your group of friends is a really attractive, sweet-natured virgin.

3) You’re on a group outing with friends, but can’t wait until the end of evening to have sex. So you sneak off to a location where no one will hear you. You’re smart AND classy.

4) No one in your group has a fully charged cell phone, a well-maintained car or a gun.

5) Someone in your group, usually the one wearing glasses, has a really solid survival plan, but you don’t listen to it.

Five signs you are being targeted by some variation of a mutated shark, gator, octopus, fish, snake, gorilla or combination thereof.
1) You have drunkenly stumbled into a mausoleum, hunting cabin, abandoned hospital/mental ward, derelict amusement park or closed shopping mall to do something juvenile and asinine.

2) You are a grizzled old fisherman with a drinking problem, that no one will miss until your remaining bits are found in an estuary.

3) You stumble upon a twisted, empty storage container from an ominously-named genetic engineering lab a few yards from your campsite, but you don’t want to change your plans for the weekend.

4) You utter the words, “Did you hear something?”

5) You are outside at night, either going to pee or to meet your sweetheart for an ill-advised rendezvous and your flashlight’s battery just died.

Five signs you are about to be devoured by vampires, the non-sexy, non-teen angsty variety.
1) You have drunkenly stumbled into a mausoleum, hunting cabin, abandoned hospital/mental ward, derelict amusement park or closed shopping mall to do something juvenile and asinine.

2) You live in an isolated community where there is an inordinate amount of rain or night-time hours.

3) You are driving a bloodmobile.

4) You are friends with someone who seems to know too much about vampire traditions and history.

5) You are biddable and desperate for friends and would therefore make an invaluable bug-eating familiar.

Halloween Chat at VYou

2011-10-28T21:38:00.002-05:00

No plans on Halloween? I'll be hosting a video chat at Vyou, from 9-10 p.m. (CST) Monday, Oct. 31. Stop by, leave a question, you'll get an immediate video response!

My profile is linked here.

HOW TO FLIRT WITH A NAKED WEREWOLF on sale

2011-10-27T18:35:00.005-05:00

Hey all,

HOW TO FLIRT WITH A NAKED WEREWOLF is included in the Pocket Books Paranormal Romance with Bite eBook Sale. You can get the adventures of Mo and Cooepr for $3.99 wherever eBooks are sold.

Click here for Amazon.com

Corsets AND Werewolves? Best Halloween Ever!

2011-10-19T19:34:00.004-05:00

HOW TO FLIRT WITH A NAKED WEREWOLF is part of a very cool promotion with Hips and Curves Lingerie. As someone who has both hips and curves, I fully support this. For details on how to win a selection of Pocket paranormal romance titles, click here

Humor presentation for Carolina Romance Writers

2011-10-18T21:56:00.002-05:00

If you attended my presentation for the Carolina Romance Writers and needed the slides, they're posted here:

Cover for NICE GIRLS DON'T BITE THEIR NEIGHBORS

2011-09-08T19:38:00.008-05:00

Isn't this the cutest cover? Please note the bat-shaped engagement ring on Jane's finger. To pre-order, click here.

By special request: The Dream Cast for the Jane Jameson books

2011-09-05T16:19:00.016-05:00

I like to casting my books in my head before I start writing. It makes it easier to visualize scenes and hones my characters' voices.

After posting my pie in the sky dream cast for the movie version of HOW TO FLIRT WITH A NAKED WEREWOLF, some of you requested a similar post for the heretofore unplanned movie version of the Jane Jameson books. In some cases, the ideal actor/actress has changed during the writing process, but for the most part, this is who I pictured in my head while I was writing.

Jane Jameson

I didn't picture Jane as being movie star gorgeous. She's the girl next door, the quiet librarian, but still very pretty. I love Jenna Fischer's sense of comic timing and her intelligence. And I admire the fact that she manages to create a compelling character in Pam on The Office, even when she's forced to downplay her looks. I think she would make the perfect Jane.

Gabriel Nightengale

There is something deliciously naughty, but very smart and strong about Gerard Butler. In terms of comedy, he makes a great "straight man," and I can picture him giving deadpan responses to Jane's weird humor. Also, thanks to Dracula 2000, we know he can play a vampire pretty well.

Aunt Jettie

I actually met Molly McClure when I was still working as a newspaper reporter. She was the sweetest lady and a Paducah native. She passed away in 2008, but it's my dream cast, and when I see it in my head, Molly McClure is Jettie.

But, since she's living, Kathy Bates would work really well.

Mr. Wainwright

John Hurt is an adorable gentleman. It is his voice I hear in my head when I write Mr. Wainwright's dialogue.

Zeb Lavelle

Steve Zahn is the only guy I can think of who is funny enough to pull of Zeb's sweet awkward weirdness, but strong enough that he could put up with Jolene's family. (I like this picture because Steve Zahn is being terrorized by a preschooler, and Zeb is a kindergarten teacher.)

Jolene McClain

I have described Jolene as looking like Angelina Jolie, but I think Kiele Sanchez would do a wonderful job. She's gorgeous, fierce-looking and has a beautiful southern drawl when she needs it.

Andrea Byrne

January Jones is absolutely stunning. She's the only one I think could pull off Andrea's classic looks and quick wit. Plus, on Mad Men, Betty Draper puts up with quite a bit of shenanigans on Don's part. I think Dick's shenanigans would seem charming and cheeky by comparison.

Dick Cheney

Josh Holloway is Dick Cheney. I would accept no substitutions.

So, does this fit what you pictured? I'd like to hear your thoughts... but not in that intrusive Jane way.

For the record, I found all of these pictures on Google Images. I do not own the photos. No copyright infringement is intended.

Casting "HOW TO FLIRT WITH A NAKED WEREWOLF"

2011-09-03T08:55:00.020-05:00

I love casting the characters for my books in my head before I start writing. It really helps me visualize the scenes and helps me narrow down the characters' voices. Last night, I stumbled across this extremely funny post on Fantasy Casting about the fantasy line-up if HOW TO FLIRT WITH A NAKED WEREWOLF was ever made into a movie.

For the full post, click here. This is a really funny blog and I can't believe I haven't found it before now.

The webmistress, Gina, wants to know how close she was with her guesses, and so I give you MY fantasy cast. Keep in mind that the actors may not match the exact physical appearance described in the book. I was going for overall build and facial structure and "vibe."

CHARACTER: Cooper
GINA'S GUESS: Collin Ferrell
MY CHOICE: Steven Strait. Because of this picture:

The Collin Ferrell guess was close for reasons you'll see later. I thought Steven Strait (The Covenant, 10,000 BC) had that manly, but not scary, feel. He has a gorgeous smile, good comic timing, plus he can pull angst off pretty well.

But Collin Ferrell would have worked. Or the alternative of Hugh Jackman, but I'd already used him for Monroe in AND ONE LAST THING. I didn't want to double dip!

CHARACTER: Mo
GINA'S GUESS: Liv Tyler
MY CHOICE: Anne Hathaway

I love Anne Hathway. She's sturdy. She can pull off the Southern drawl and sarcasm, but she still has that ethereal, other-worldly quality I had in mind for Mo.

But Liv Tyler definitely would have worked, looks wise. I don't know if I can hear her sweet soft voice saying Mo's dirtier lines.

By the way, all of my dirtiness is ENTIRELY necessary, Gina!

CHARACTER: Evie
GINA'S GUESS: Connie Ray
MY CHOICE: Catherine Keener

I like Connie Ray just fine, but Gina was way off with this one.

CHARACTER: Buzz
GINA'S GUESS: Brian Dennehy
MY CHOICE: Brian Haley

Haley's head is perfectly squared off, exactly what I had in mind for Buzz.
I can see Dennehy playing Buzz thirty years in the future, though.

CHARACTER: Maggie, Cooper's sister
GINA'S GUESS: Cobie Smulders
MY CHOICE: Mila Kunis

I like Cobie Smulders from How I Met Your Mother. But she's not quite tough enough for Maggie. Mila Kunis is small and fierce and I can see her attacking Cooper quite effectively.

For the record, her love interest, Nick, from THE ART OF SEDUCING A NAKED WEREWOLF, would be played by Charlie Hunnam.

CHARACTER: Samson
GINA'S GUESS: Alan Ritchson
MY CHOICE: Ryan Hurst

I'd never heard of Alan Ritchson, but good LORD, those are some nice abs!

I pictured Samson as more of a big burly, non-threatening lovable goof. Ryan Hurst played those until he joined the Sons of Anarchy cast and was suddenly a big badass.

CHARACTER: Leonard Tremblay
GINA'S GUESS: Steve Buscemi
MY CHOICE: David Arquette, a really scuzzy version of David Arquette

I think in this case, Gina's choice is better than mine! Especially when you considering this picture:

CHARACTER:Eli
GINA'S GUESS: Jake Gyllenhaal
MY CHOICE: COLLIN FERRELL!

I know! She was so close! But I pictured Eli as someone who could be a "good upright citizen" but had a feeling of barely restrained power about him. Jake Gyllenhaal is great, but will always be a cute teenager in my eyes.

Thanks to Gina, for considering my book so carefully. I had a lot of fun with this.

SO, discussion, do the rest of you do fantasy casting for your favorite books? If so, I'd like to hear some ideas.

For the record, I found all of these pictures on Google Images. I do not own the photos. No copyright infringement is intended.

Excerpt from NICE GIRLS DON'T BITE THEIR NEIGHBORS

2011-07-29T14:33:00.006-05:00

This is an excerpt from the first chapter of NICE GIRLS DON'T BITE THEIR NEIGHBORS. The fourth book in the Jane Jameson vampire series, the title will be released in March 2012. Click here to pre-order from Amazon.

All preview materials are subject to change before publication and are not to be reproduced without permission of Pocket Books.

1

Three months after moving into my ancestral home, Gabriel Nightengale’s last box was finally unpacked. The catch was that we could never break-up, because I had run out of friends who were willing to help us move.

“I have good news,” he said, striding into the library, where I was sprawled on the velvet chaise lounge we’d moved into the room only a few days ago. I was reading Persuasion again, but this time, I was reading Gabriel’s very old, very delicate copy printed in London at the turn of the century. It was practically a religious experience.

This was a vastly different library from just a year ago, when it was stuffed with my well-worn paperback versions of Jane Austen and Roald Dahl novels… and my creepily extensive collection of unicorn figurines. This was a grown-up library.

I’d cleared out quite a bit of space for Gabriel’s books and furniture. It wasn’t that difficult a choice, considering that most of his books were valuable antiques, whereas most of mine were purchased at secondhand paperback shops.

I’d also packed most of my unicorn collection away in the cellar, threatening Gabriel with permanent sunburn if he so much as breathed a word about it to Dick.

As Gabriel moved toward me, my pitifully hideous, but lovable, dog, Fitz, raised his head from my knee. Gently nudging Fitz aside, Gabriel pressed kisses along the line of my throat and announced, “My VHS tapes now have a permanent home in your entertainment center, alphabetized and divided by genre.”

At this announcement, Fitz trotted out of the room in search of some pair of Gabriel’s shoes that he hadn’t managed to chew yet. I peered up at him over the top of the book, cringing. “So now would be a really bad time to tell you that I don’t have a VHS player anymore, right? This is a strictly digital household.”

Gabriel groaned and flopped down next to me. “I’m going to have to buy Casablanca again.”

“You didn’t notice the lack of a VCR in the TV cabinet?” I asked.

He shook his head. “You know I don’t understand half of the gadgets you have around here.”

That was true. The previous week I caught him trying to “reboot” my wireless network by kicking the router across the room. That was a long conversation. I shook my head. “How did I end up in the relationship in which I am the tech person?”

He leaned in and kissed me. “When you taught me how to work my voicemail, I knew I could never let you go.”

I giggled as Gabriel crossed the room and selected an older volume from the crowded shelves. I watched him move, unabashedly lovestruck. My human relationships had been few and far between, but they’d been polite, civilized- boring. I craved Gabriel with a bone-deep lust I’d once reserved exclusively for Godiva truffles. I was fixated, not just in the physical sense – though that was an obvious, and occasionally distracting, bonus – but with what he thought, how he saw the world, how he saw me. It was addictive to see myself reflected in his liquid silver eyes as strong, beautiful, intelligent, interesting, completely exasperating. We each provided a vital service for the other. He made me stronger, and I kept him from taking himself too seriously.

Gabriel settled in next to me, absorbed in a vintage copy of Jane Eyre. We sat like that for some time, quietly reveling in not having anything to do, anywhere to be. Crisis-free moments like this had been rare in our relationship.

“Jane Eyre?” I asked. “Not your usual selection.”

He nodded. “You’ve only mentioned a dozen or so times that Edward Rochester is second only to Mr. Darcy on your ‘Fictional Character Free Pass List.’ I want to know what I’m up against.”

I smirked, snuggling into his side. “You stand a fair chance. As long as you don’t have a crazy wife hidden away somewhere…” I stared at him for a beat.

“I don’t,” he said, shaking his head at me and opening his book.

It may have seemed like an unfair shot, but Gabriel and I had suffered serious relationship issues related to his “careful editing” of his past. Case in point, the fire in my cellar caused by Gabriel’s psycho-childe, Jeanine, who had stalked me, nearly killed me with aerosol silver and eventually arranged for our friend, Andrea, to be forcibly turned into a vampire. I try to resist pointing out that of all this could have been avoided, if Gabriel had told me about Jeanine, instead of playing the tortured, ‘I can’t tell you because you’ll hate me, so I’ll protect you by keeping you in the dark” card.

Trust me, that card never works. I end up with more undead friends and a serious cleaning bill for smoke damage. And then, as the vampire who technically defeated her in a Taser-versus-lunatic-soaked-in-lamp-oil battle, there was the hassle of receiving the proceeds from Jeanine’s estate through the Council, then donating it to various charities. I didn’t want one penny from her crazy behind darkening my doorway.

“Just checking,” I replied, smiling sweetly, and earning an undignified, but amused, snort from Gabriel. I returned my attention to poor, persevering Anne Elliot. Once again, I wondered how she managed to go so many chapters without bitch-slapping every single person she came into contact with. I actually wrote a paper about it in college. My professor deducted points for using the phrase “bitch-slap” in the title.

It was totally worth it.

I was just settling into the salons of 18th-century Bath, when Gabriel muttered, “This is strange.”

I looked up to see Gabriel pulling a long blue-gray thread from between the nearly translucent pages. My jaw dropped and I was kneeling on the chaise in a flash. “Is the binding coming loose? No, don’t pull it! I can take it to my book doctor tomorrow night.”

“Stop hyperventilating, sweetheart. I think it’s a bookmark,” he said, pulling on the thread until he’d stretched it into my hand. “Here.”

I wound thread around my finger. “What passage was it marking?”

He scanned the page and lifted an eyebrow. “It’s an Edward and Jane scene. I know how you love those. Edward’s saying, ‘I sometimes have a queer feeling with regard to you—especially when you are near me, as now: it is as if I had a string somewhere under my left ribs, tightly and inextricably knotted to a similar string situated in the corresponding quarter of your little frame.”

I was so caught up in watching his lips as they formed the words, I barely noticed the sudden tension on the fiber wound around my finger. I realized now that Gabriel had slipped a ring onto the thread and was sliding it toward me. I watched as the respectable diamond twinkled in the lights of the oil lamp.

“I’m not Edward,” Gabriel promised. “I’m not afraid the thread will break and leave me bleeding. Our thread’s already been tested. And it will hold up. I’m asking you to make the link permanent. Please, marry me.”

I smiled as the ring slid into my hand. I can’t say this was a surprise. After the passing of the Federal Undead Marriage Act a few months before, Gabriel had officially proposed with this very tasteful solitaire. And I said no. We’d agreed to move in together because I’d told Gabriel that I wasn’t ready to be engaged yet. I was still adjusting to being a vampire. I was still recovering from Zeb and Jolene’s wedding from hell. And oh, yeah, Gabriel’s childe had just tried to murder me in my own home. I needed a breather.

Gabriel proposed again, a few weeks later, and I wasn’t ready. And then again, on my birthday, and I still wasn’t ready. Then he promised not to ask me again until I was ready. And when he said that, I suddenly felt ready. And then I felt like an idiot, because by then, he’d stopped proposing.

This was no ballpark Jumbotron, no ring hidden in a soufflé. It was the right way for Gabriel to ask me to marry him. And this was the right time.

I nodded, mute, and the tension seemed to drain out of Gabriel. He grinned, slid his hands in my hair and pulled me close. “I struggled with the right passage, you know,” he said, sliding the ring over my knuckle and kissing the web of skin between my fingers. “I tried all of Austen’s works but the proposals are all so formal. I thought you would appreciate Edward’s passion. And it still involves a Jane, after all. The ring is a copy of my mother’s. I took the stone from her engagement ring and had a jeweler place it in a titanium setting.”

“Titanium?” I asked.

“Dick knew a guy."

“Of course he did.”

“You’re a bit rough and tumble with jewelry, and I knew it would have to be able to stand up to…”

“Nuclear winter?”

His eyebrow lifted. “I never know with you.”

I laughed, throwing my arms around him and knocking him back on the seat and straddling his hips. Hovering over him, I nuzzled his neck, kissing and nipping before my fangs extended. I scraped them along his jugular, making him shudder and snake his hands around my waist, pulling me closer. I threaded my fingers through his coal black hair and tugged his head back. His own fangs snicked out as he grinned up at me. He cupped my cheeks in his palms and gave me my first “betrothed” kiss.

I have to say that if I’d known that was what I had to look forward to as a married woman, I probably should have agreed to the engagement a lot sooner.

He chuckled, pressing his thumb over my right fang, letting it pierce the skin. I nibbled at it as he twisted under me, a sweet little trickle of my sire’s blood lending to an equally wet and pleasant sensation elsewhere. Pushing the scoop neck of my blouse away, he trailed his lips over the edge of my bra and snapped the left strap with his razor-sharp fangs.

Your underwear budget triples when you’re dating the undead.

"You haven’t said, ‘yes,’ by the way,” he murmured, snapping the other bra strap with his teeth.

I gasped and his thumb fell away from my mouth. “I’m sorry! Yes, yes, yes!”

“Should I find it disturbing that it took jewelry to make you cry ‘yes, yes, yes’ in my presence for the first time?” he asked, nuzzling my throat.

“Nice.” I snickered.

“So who do you want to call first?” he asked. “Your mother? Jenny? Zeb and Jolene? Oh, or I can call Dick, act like I’m sobbing and tell him you said no. Make him think that he has to take me out for an evening of drinking and not talking about our feelings.”

“That’s your idea of a hilarious joke?” I asked, arching my eyebrow.

He smirked, pulling my blouse over my head. My ruined bra fell to pieces and dropped to the floor. “I find Dick’s squirming in the face of emotional vulnerability to be the height of hilarity.”

“This is why Dick wins all of your prank wars,” I told him, as he pulled me back on the lounge, my weight settled on his chest.

“So do you want to call your mother first, or Zeb?”

I shook my head, cradling my face into his neck. “No.”

“No?”

“Neither. First, because I’d like to wait until I can tell Aunt Jettie,” I sighed, thinking fondly of my ghostly great- aunt and her equally deceased beau, Gilbert Wainwright. “And I don’t know when she’ll be back from whatever astral jaunt she and Mr. Wainwright are taking. And second, because I want to lie here with you and enjoy being engaged without being squealed at or hug-strangled or told that I don’t want to get married in the spring because it’s impossible to get the right mix of seasonal tulips. I just want to…” I sighed and rubbed my bare chest against his shirt in a distinctly non-virginal bride manner. “Bask.”

“You never do what I expect you to,” he said, kissing the ring on my finger.

“Admit it, that’s part of the attraction.”

“Yes. Yes, it is,” he sighed. “But you will be the one to tell your mother, right? I asked your father for his blessing. But I think you should be the one to deliver the news to your mother.”

I snorted. Mama’s reaction to our pre-marital cohabitating included screaming and yelling and threatening us with grounding. Considering that the worst that his own mother had ever done to him was call for her smelling salts, Gabriel was permanently scarred. He had flashbacks for weeks.

“So, I’m thinking… Vegas Strip next Friday? We could gamble a little, get married, bail Dick out of the jail, and be home by Monday,” I suggested.

“We are not going to get married in some rundown chapel by an Elvis impersonator.”

“We could get a Streisand impersonator if it would make you more comfortable.”

“Jane,” he chuckled, exasperated. “Is that really how you want to get married? Sneaking off like we’re ashamed of ourselves? Was that what little Jane dreamed and hoped for?”

“Little Jane thought she would marry Mark-Paul Gosselar from Saved By The Bell in an English castle. Little Jane was an idiot.”

“If you want the English castle, you shall have it… minus this Mark-Paul person,” he said. “And if you really want the Vegas strip, you shall have that. I want you to have the sort of wedding that will make you happy.”

I countered, “What about the kind of wedding that makes you happy?”

“I want to show up in a tux and be told where to stand. That would make me very happy.”

I groaned.

“What about wedding planning scares you?”

“All of it. Picking out flowers. The dress. The bridesmaids dresses… no, wait, I’m looking forward to that. Vengeance will be mine. But making all the choices… and then having those choices subtly criticized by every woman in my family. And the fact that each of those choices will probably ‘ruin the wedding’ for someone.”

“Ruin the wedding?”

“When my sister wanted to get married at the country club, Grandma Ruthie said the wedding would be ruined for her if Jenny got married anywhere but the Baptist church. Several cousins threatened to boycott if Jenny didn’t allow children to attend. Our great-uncle said he wouldn’t come to the reception unless she served Pabst Blue Ribbon. People just seem to lose their minds when it comes to weddings. You can’t make everybody happy.”

“So we won’t try,” Gabriel said. “We’ll do what makes us happy. It’s our wedding, after all.”

I chuckled, pressing my lips to his throat, the curve of his jaw, as I rolled over him and slipped my fingers around his belt buckle, sliding it open. “Oh, you’re so naïve. It’s cute, really.”

UPDATE on Fourth Jane Book

2011-07-20T20:35:00.002-05:00

Hey All,

The fourth Jane book, now officially titled NICE GIRLS DON'T BITE THEIR NEIGHBORS, will be released in March 2012. I've seen the cover, it's gorgeous. And all I can say is SHIRTLESS GABRIEL.

Here's the cover copy:
Just as Jane Jameson’s unlife seems to be stabilizing, fate sinks its fangs firmly into her butt. Despite her near-phobia of all things marital, her no-frills nighttime nuptials to her sexy boyfriend Gabriel are coming along smoothly. But the road to wedded bliss gets bumpy when a teenage acquaintance is fatally wounded in front of Jane’s shop and she turns him to save his life. The Council pronounces Jane responsible for the newborn vamp until he can control his thirst.

Jane’s kitchen at River Oaks barely holds enough Faux Type O to satiate the cute teen’s appetite and maintain Gabriel’s jealous streak at a slow simmer. As if keeping her hyperactive childe from sucking the blood out of the entire neighborhood isn’t enough to deal with, the persnickety ghost of Jane’s newly deceased Grandma Ruthie has declared a war on the fanged residents of River Oaks. Suddenly,
choosing monogrammed cocktail napkins and a cake that she can’t eat seems downright relaxing in comparison.

Tensions inside the house are growing…and outside, a sinister force is aiming a stake straight for the center of Gabriel’s heart. Most brides just have to worry about choosing the right dress, but Jane fears that at this rate, she’ll never make it down the aisle for the wedding all nice girls dream of….

Shows to Watch

2011-07-17T12:42:00.009-05:00

During my workshop on writing humorous dialogue, someone asked me which shows one should watch as good examples of funny character exchanges. Personally, I always enjoy shows that are funny, but aren't necessarily comedies. The Office, Community, and Parks and Recreation are all really good examples of dialogue-heavy comedies.

So here's a list of shows that focused in other areas, but have some really funny moments.

Crime Procedurals:
CSI franchise, particularly, CSI: NY. For some reason, Gary Sinise's Mac Taylor as the straight man is one of the funniest things ever.

The Glades and The Mentalist both employ the dry observational wit of a character who is missing the "tact gene." Jim Longworth and Patrick Jane say things that any reasonable person would know to filter out of conversation. But their intelligence and knack for offending bystanders drive most of the episodes.

Bones- Also uses the "missing tact gene" phenomenon" from Temprence Brennan, but also allows the characters to be human. The forensic team will often have that "ewww" reaction when discovering information about a particularly disturbing killer.

Castle, uses a lot of hyperbole, which is something I enjoy employing myself. Rick Castle is a giant man-boy with an unlimited budget, cool toys, and the kind of social connections you could only dream of. But he's at his heart, a very decent person, and the writers showcase both.

Paranormal:
Buffy the Vampire Slayer and Angel. Joss Whedon is king. That is all.

See also
Supernatural
Vampire Diaries
Moonlight
Charmed

It's possible to make a scary moment really funny, by allowing characters to under-react. For example, how much does it say about a character's history or personality when they are more upset by a lack of jelly doughnuts than the impending apocalypse?

Drama: Leverage and Breaking In aren't necessarily dramas, but they focus on very dramatic situations. (Security experts breaking into buildings, going undercover, and pulling off complicated scams.) Using hyperbole and character quirks, the writers create endearing and hilarious moments.

See also:
The Good Wife
Franklin and Bash,
Necessary Roughness
Suits

An Educational Blog for Grown-ups

2011-07-06T20:58:00.002-05:00

I was lucky enough to moderate Delilah Marvelle's RWA Workshop entitled "Sex Throughout History." It was one of the most informative, entertaining sessions I've attended at any conference. And I couldn't wait to come home and bookmark Delilah's blog. Once a month, she "teaches" on a particular subject, and there's historical eye candy!!

Explore ancient sex ed here at A Bit of Muslin

As promised, my RWA presentation ...

2011-06-29T18:45:00.006-05:00

Thanks to everyone who came to my RWA workshop. I know I went through the slides quickly, so here they are:

SLIDESHOW

HANDOUTS 1 and 2

Special Event! Dueling Harpers at Bitten By Books!

2011-06-22T20:54:00.002-05:00

It turns out I have a Canadian Doppleganger. Dani Harper is a former newspaper reporter turned romance author, who writes about shapeshifters and weres. I say she's the Canadian Molly Harper. She says I'm the American Dani Harper.

We engage in this debate June 23 at Bitten By Books, where the werewolves of Grundy, Alaska will meet Dani's shapeshifters from her Changeling series at the Blue Glacier Saloon to compare notes about their lore, their backgrounds and their authors.

If you participate in this unprecedented meeting of Harpers, you will be eligible for FABULOUS prizes, including signed copies of our werewolf/shifter titles, a goodie bag from Dani, and a five-title paranormal prize pack from Pocket Books!

To RSVP for this event, (which earns you extra entry points for the contest) click here.

Start Spreading the News...

2011-06-21T22:54:00.002-05:00

Hey All, if you're in the NYC area on June 28, I will be participating in the RWA Literacy Signing at 5:30 pm at the Marriott Marquis near Times Square.

Also, I'll be signing at Posman Books at Grand Central Station at 10 a.m. July 1.

I'll be sure to post regularly from the RWA conference, so check back here at the blog for updates of my misadventures in the Big Apple.

What I'm doing with my between-book vacation

2011-05-31T19:36:00.001-05:00

After a week of working super-double-secret-overtime finishing my latest manuscript, I find myself in that weird twilight time between projects. I know I have to start on edits for the fourth Jane Jameson book soon. And I have to start on the new book due in December. But for right now I have time to do the following things I have no chance to do while I’m writing

-Sleeping at night like a normal person.

-Reading the books I loaded onto my Kindle three to six months before.

-Washing the clothes my family insists on wearing every day.

-Actually folding those clean clothes when they come out of the dryer, instead of leaving them on the perpetual Laundry Mountain in my bedroom.

-Sleeping at night like a normal person.

-Uno tournaments with David and Darcy. (Darcy doesn’t like this one because it decreases her chances on winning. She’s a card shark.)

-Washing the dishes in the sink more often than “Hey, babe, any idea why the kids are eating cereal out of old Cool Whip containers?”

-Sleeping at night like a normal person.

-Getting a pedicure. (I got turquoise with silver leopard spots!)

-Going to the gym.

-Reading/answering reader emails. (I’m really sorry about this one. I’m trying to catch up. Honest.)

-Did I mention sleeping? Like a normal person?

Bitten By Books Smackdown!

2011-05-27T20:30:00.004-05:00

The lovely Angie Fox and I are the finalists in the Bitten By Books Smackdown, humorous paranormal category. I'd appreciate your vote!

Click here to vote!

Votes must be submitted before midnight tonight. (May 27)

UPDATE: I won! By a very slim margin. Thanks everybody!

Nice Review for THE ART OF SEDUCING A NAKED WEREWOLF

2011-05-09T21:00:00.003-05:00

Night Owl Reviews gave a 4.75 star Reviewers Picks rating to THE ART OF SEDUCING A NAKED WEREWOLF. You can find it here

"If you love the laugh then you need to get on board the Harper bandwagon, stat!...The only negative I have found is that it made me want to go to Alaska and see if I can find a werewolf, but I think my husband would object."

I have a bandwagon!

Because a teacher's job isn't complicated enough, really

2011-05-05T17:47:00.008-05:00

Kentucky Writers Conference Presentation

2011-04-17T15:23:00.005-05:00

Several people who attended my workshop at the Kentucky Writers Conference asked me to post my slides online. Click here to access my presentation.

SOKY Book Fest

2011-04-14T16:20:00.003-05:00

I will be speaking with Teresa Medeiros on the Romance and Soap Opera Panel, 1 p.m. Saturday at the SOKY Book Fest, Carroll Knicely Convention Center, Bowling Green, KY.
We'll be signing for most of the day there, as well, 9 a.m. to 4 p.m.

Wolves come under fire in proposed Congressional budget bill

2011-04-11T21:49:00.006-05:00

Sen. Jon Tester and Rep. Mike Simpson have announced wolves would be taken off the endangered list under the budget bill pending before Congress. According to a recent AP article, there is growing political pressure and potential Congressional action to reduce wolf numbers in Montana and other states due a gradual increase of wolf attacks on livestock and some big-game herds suffering declines. Several conservation groups attempted to enter into a settlement agreement with the U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service that would have lifted endangered species protections for wolves in Montana and Idaho, hoping that the agreement would provide greater protection for wolves than lawmakers might provide. But that settlement was rejected.

Groups such as the Defenders of Wildlife and The World Wildlife Foundation are organizing campaigns asking legislators to continue government programs to protect the environment – including wolves – and promote scientific research. You can find information on those programs here:

Defenders of Wildlife

WWF

The WWF also has a neat Adopt A Gray Wolf program, which can be found here.

RT Booklovers Convention Wrap-Up

2011-04-11T19:04:00.006-05:00

Hey All,

I'm back from the RT Convention in Los Angeles. I'm exhausted but happy. NICE GIRLS DON'T LIVE FOREVER won the Reviewer's Choice Award for Paranormal Fiction. I have no actual memory of my acceptance speech because halfway through, I realized people were looking at me, and lost control of all verbal functions.

I am told I thanked everybody I should, and that people laughed.

And then I met Catherine Coulter!! Squeal!!! (See, published authors still have embarrassing fangirl moments.) I think I told her that her Sherbrooke series was one of the first romance series I was allowed to read and she was a huge influence on my life... or I asked her where the bathroom was.

There were a lot of mental blackout moments for me at RT.

I met lots of lovely, down-to-Earth authors: Melissa Marr, Holly Black, Carrie Ryan, Jaye Wells, Nicole Peeler, LA Banks, Adrian Phoenix. It was crazy who you could meet just by walking into the elevator.

We all gathered at the Book Fair on Saturday, where this:

Was how it looked for three hours. It was crazy, but fun. Which is pretty much how one would sum up RT.

FAQs for the Naked Werewolf Books

2011-04-04T18:17:00.003-05:00

Are the Naked Werewolf books set in the same world as the Jane Jameson books?

No. I needed the possibility of werewolves exisiting to be a foreign concept for Mo. I needed her disbelief. If she was aware of vampires existence, her disbelief in werewolves would be sort of silly. However, I did want to reward Jane fans, so I hid little Easter eggs in the Naked Werewolf books, referencing the Jane Jameson books. I don't want to tell you what they are, but you'll know them when you see them.

Will there be more than two books in the Naked Werewolf series?

I don't know. We're discussing the possibility of a third book with the publisher. I'll let you know as soon as I have an update.

Are the Naked Werewolf books narrated by the same actress who voiced the Jane Jameson Audiobooks?

Yes, all of my books have been read by Amanda Ronconi for Audible.com. I think she does a wonderful job.

Are the Naked Werewolf covers designed by the same artist who drew the cover for AND ONE LAST THING?

Yes, they were drawn by incredibly talented Renata DiBiase.

Will the Naked Werewolf books be translated into German, French, Spanish, Klingon, etc.?

At the moment, there are no agreements for foreign rights.

Playlist for THE ART OF SEDUCING A NAKED WEREWOLF

2011-04-04T17:42:00.008-05:00

I've received several requests for the playlist I used while writing THE ART OF SEDUCING A NAKED WEREWOLF. You'll notice that I used a lot of the same music I used for HOW TO FLIRT WITH A NAKED WEREWOLF, because they were atmosphere-setters for my Alaskan story.

She Wolf - Shakira
OK, I have to explain this one. I don't think this song reflects Maggie's personality at all. But it came out right after I proposed the idea for Maggie's book to my agent, Stephany. When the video, including footage Shakira writhing around in a cage, came out, Stephany emailed me and said, "Wow, Maggie's got a lot to live up to!" So I played the song when I needed to remember not to take my job too seriously.

La Grange - ZZ TOP
Felt like a good fightin' song. Maggie gets into a lot of fights.

The Promise - Michael Nyman

Breathe Me - Sia

Strange and Beautiful - Aqualung
(This song worked for both Mo and Cooper and Nick and Maggie, because they were all dealing with strange cross-species dating issues.)

My Skin - Natalie Merchant

Running Up That Hill - Placebo

Time is Running Out - Muse

Unstoppable - ES Posthumus

Nara - ES Posthumus

The Bird and the Worm - The Used

READER QUESTIONS ANSWERED

2011-04-02T15:48:00.005-05:00

Hey All,

I'm starting a VYou account so I can answer reader questions. If you have a question about my writing habits, background or specific questions about any of my books, leave them here.

Thanks,
Molly

New "Flirty" Seminar

2011-04-01T17:46:00.000-05:00

Are you bored with human men? Do you want to take a walk on the wild side of the dating world?

Register now for my signature seminar: “HOW TO FLIRT WITH A NAKED WEREWOLF”- a carefully researched, evidence-based system designed to attract the attention of the sexiest of all shape-shifters.

My easy, three-session course includes the following discussion topics:

Dressing to Appeal to the Alpha Male – How Low-Cut Is Too Low-Cut?

Food-Scented Perfumes: Friend or Foe?

Emergency Bear-Trap Removal

Sign up now and receive a free bonus session entitled, “THE ART OF SEDUCING A NAKED WEREWOLF.” This adults-only detailed, illustrated class outlines the methods and mechanics of keeping your favorite wolfman happy in the bedroom. Cameras and recording devices are prohibited.

Classes start June 23 at the Crescent Valley Community Center. Oh, and did I mention:

HAPPY APRIL FOOL’S DAY

Sadly, there is no such thing as a scientific method to seducing a naked werewolf. But you may pick up some tips by reading HOW TO FLIRT WITH A NAKED WEREWOLF and THE ART OF SEDUCING A NAKED WEREWOLF.

Cute feature in Velocity Magazine

2011-03-29T19:34:00.002-05:00

If you live in Louisville, you might see my mug smiling out at you from those grey "Velocity Magazine" cases on the street. I did a fun interview with reporter Joe Lords, the online version of which can be found here:

http://louisville.metromix.com/bars-and-clubs/article/molly-and-her-monsters/2530168/content

I really liked the photo!

THE ART OF SEDUCING A NAKED WEREWOLF is on the shelves!

2011-03-29T05:40:00.002-05:00

You didn't have to wait long! THE ART OF SEDUCING A NAKED WEREWOLF is on the shelves where ever books are sold.

AND ONE LAST THING is a RITA® Finalist!!!

2011-03-26T06:44:00.002-05:00

Exciting news! AND ONE LAST THING is a finalist for the Romance Writers of America's RITA® award in the contemporary single title romance category!

For those unfamiliar with the award, it's equivalent to the Oscars for romance authors. Other authors in my category include Nora Roberts and Victoria Dahl. I am super-excited and humbled and still sort of in shock. And I might have yelled "Holy Crap!" at the RWA board member who called to let me know. (I'm really sorry about that.)

The winner will be announced at the RWA conference in New York City in June.

In which I spend the day with the wolves of Wolf Run

2011-03-22T18:07:00.004-05:00

Unfortunately, hunky naked werewolves continue to elude me...

When I was little and came running into the house, sweaty and caked in dirt, my mom would cry, “What the- have you been rolling around with wolves?”

Well, here I sit, sweaty, caked in various layers of dried mud. And I have indeed been playing with wolves. While promoting the release of my Naked Werewolf romance series, I visited the Wolf Run Wildlife Refuge in Nicholasville, KY. Wolf Run, a state- and USDA-licensed non-profit educational facility, provides a safe, loving and permanent sanctuary for 23 adult wolves and wolf-dog hybrids. The refuge is also home to two full-grown lions, deer, goats, sheep, monkeys, and other exotic wildlife. And Rowdy, the most obese raccoon I have ever seen.

Most of the animals are former pets that were either confiscated by or surrendered by their owners. Because it turns out, wolf hybrids do not make great house pets.

As Savannah Massey, director of animal care and education at Wolf Run told me, “These animals are gorgeous, appealing and unique. But they’re also aggressive, destructive and territorial. This is not an animal you want in your home. Wolf genetics do not go away. And it’s not just that they could tear up your furniture or hurt one of your other pets- you are physically in danger when you’re around them.”

Just what you want to hear when you’re sitting right next to one, and he’s been licking your face.

Honestly, Boone, a 10-year-old grey male, could not have been nicer during my visit and our subsequent photo shoot. He was a dignified statesman compared to raucous Razz, a three-year-old tan specimen who seemed to think my make-up was bacon-flavored. (Note to Sephora, wolf-oriented face powder may be a niche market you haven’t considered yet.)

I learned a lot during my visit to Wolf Run. I was happy to find there are some definite similarities between actual wolves and the characters in HOW TO FLIRT WITH A NAKED WEREWOLF and THE ART OF SEDUCING A NAKED WEREWOLF.

For instance, a wolf will pee on whatever it wants, whenever it wants, to make sure you know that thing belongs to them. It is now your tree, Boone, we understand. Thank you for not choosing my shoes.

Wolves have to date. There are five packs at Wolf Run, each with three to five pack members. New wolves are matched to potential packs based on temperament when they arrive at Wolf Run. If the initial matches don’t work, they are moved to different packs until they find a good fit. Some wolves, like Boone, don’t fit well with any group and end up being loners. (Which, I think, makes him a bit like Cooper.)

Wolves struggle over the Alpha position. Large males jockey for the position and it can lead to inter-pack tension. Unlike Boone, who was an Alpha contender, Razz, just seemed to want to play, which made me think of Samson.

I did not see a real-life counterpart for Maggie, which was probably a good thing given her penchant for biting people on the butt.

Mary Kindred, CEO of Wolf Run, calls the animals her babies. When she walks around the yard, any effort to distract the wolves is futile, because a) she is mom and b) she has Pupperoni in her pocket. Kindred noted that the sanctuary receives no outside funding, and all expenses, such sturdy fencing, food, veterinary care, and upkeep of the grounds, are paid through donations. The facility welcomes volunteers. And despite the love and effort Mary and her staff devote to the sanctuary, both she and Savannah look forward to the day they’re no longer needed.

“These animals shouldn’t be here,” Savannah said. “The lions should be in Africa. The wolves should be in the wild. Our goal is to rescue animals and educate the public, until a facility like this is no longer needed.”

learn more about Wolf Run, go to http://www.wolfrun.org/index.html or contact Mary at ceoatwrwrhope@aol.com.

Click here to check out the trailer for Molly’s Naked Werewolf series: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=eyHG5546Xa4

Wolf photo credit: Memories by Chris/Chris Meyer/Georgetown, KY http://web.me.com/memoriesbychris

HOW TO FLIRT WITH A NAKED WEREWOLF is on sale now!
THE ART OF SEDUCING A NAKED WEREWOLF goes on sale 3/29!

Video Trailer for Naked Werewolf Series!

2011-03-20T18:33:00.005-05:00

I am very proud to present the book trailer for the Naked Werewof series!

Thanks to Susan Lindsey, Timothy Lindsey, Paul Seebeck and Mindy Marchal for putting this together!

Planning to be in Louisville this weekend?

2011-03-16T18:12:00.002-05:00

I will be signing at 1-3 pm Saturday, March 19 at the Reader's Corner in Louisville.

THEN

join me at the NAKED WEREWOLF Launch Party, 7-9 pm Saturday at The Bard's Town in Louisville. Door prizes, reading, siging, general shenanigans!

Hope to see you there.
Molly

Chocolate Chess Squares

2011-03-14T19:49:00.001-05:00

Hey All,

I've had a few requests for the recipe for Mo's chocolate chess squares, but I have to admit: Chocolate chess squares are the one food I write about that I don't have an original recipe for. I use the recipe here, only I don't use the nuts and I add 2 oz of melted, cooled semisweet chocolate to the cream cheese layer.

http://www.bakeorbreak.com/recipes/2007/12/07/chocolate-chess-squares/

Thanks,

Molly

2011-03-10T19:47:00.002-06:00

The Naked Werewolf books are being featured in a giveaway/interview on Borders True Romance blog here. There have been a lot of really fun discussion questions. And one comment in which a reader said, "Great sex, by the way, Ms. Harper."

You know, I don't think a girl can hear that enough.

Also, there's a really nice review at Rabid Reviews: here

I like this site because the books are rated by paw prints!

Vote for AND ONE LAST THING...

2011-03-09T21:17:00.002-06:00

AND ONE LAST THING.. has been nomination by The Romance Reviews for Best Romantic Comedy 2010.

If you'd like to, you can vote here: http://www.theromancereviews.com/bookvote.php

HOW TO FLIRT featured in Barnes and Noble Romance Column

2011-03-07T18:46:00.002-06:00

Hi All,

Eloisa James was nice enough to feature HOW TO FLIRT WITH A NAKED WEREWOLF in her March romance column. Read it here.

Winner! Allison Pang Giveaway!

2011-03-02T21:34:00.002-06:00

Hi All,

Jennifer has won a copy of A BRUSH OF DARKNESS. Just send your mailing address to jane.jameson AT hotmail.com and we'll get it to you as soon as possible.

Thanks, Allison!

Interesting Analysis of HOW TO FLIRT

2011-03-02T18:26:00.001-06:00

I was lucky enough to be selected for the innaugural "Morgan and Whitney Dish" feature at RT Book Revies. Be sure to stop by!

http://www.rtbookreviews.com/rt-daily-blog/morgan-whitney-dish-how-flirt-naked-werewolf-molly-harper

Interview and Giveaway: Allison Pang

2011-02-28T19:01:00.010-06:00

I must confess my secret shame. Somewhere, in my parents' basement, there is a box of unicorn figurines that I collected from age 10 to 15. It started with a Secret Santa gift from my fifth grade "boyfriend" Mark Hobbs and somehow morphed into an army of one-horned equine ceramic nightmares. I can't bear to part with them, but I don't want them in my house, either. So for now, my parents are stuck with them.

When I needed an idea for the main character in my 'Nice Girls' vampire series to have an embarrassing collection from childhood, I naturally leaned toward unicorns. I'd lived through the creepy horse obsession all girls go through, and I needed to channel it constructively. So Jane ended up with unicorn lamps, unicorn music boxes, and various sweatshirts she prays will never see the outside of her closet.

When I heard my agent sibling, Allison Pang, featured a foul-mouthed unicorn in her book, A BRUSH OF DARKNESS, I thought she'd be a natural fit here at NICE GIRLS DON'T WRITE NAUGHTY BOOKS.

A BRUSH OF DARKNESS features Abby Sinclair, who wields an enchanted iPod, has a miniature unicorn living in her underwear drawer and a magical marketplace to manage. But despite her growing knowledge of the OtherWorld, Abby isn’t at all prepared for Brystion, the dark, mysterious, and sexy-as- sin incubus searching for his sister, convinced Abby has the key to the succubus’s whereabouts. Abby has enough problems without having this seductive shape-shifter literally invade her dreams to get information. But when her Faery boss and some of her friends vanish, as well, Abby and Brystion must form an uneasy alliance. As she is sucked deeper and deeper into this perilous world of faeries, angels, and daemons, Abby realizes her life is in as much danger as her heart—and there’s no one she can trust to save her.

A former marine biologist, Allison turned to a life of crime to finance her wild spending habits and need to collect Faberge eggs. A cat thief of notable repute, she spends her days sleeping and nights scaling walls and wooing dancing boys....Well, at least the marine biology part is true. But she was taloned by a hawk once. She also loves Hello Kitty, sparkly shoes, and gorgeous violinists. She spends her days in Northern Virginia working as a cube grunt and her nights waiting on her kids and cats, punctuated by the occasional husbandly serenade. Sometimes she even manages to write. Mostly she just makes it up as she goes

Please welcome Allison to the blog and see details below to enter for a free copy of A BRUSH OF DARKNESS.

MH: OK, I have to ask. Why a dirty unicorn? Were you traumatized by a snarky unicorn as a child?

AP: Heh. Many of the unicorn’s behaviors were directly inspired by several of my cats (I have a particularly pervy one who drags my bathrobe around and humps it. Whee.) But honestly, I adored unicorns growing up – so I knew I always wanted to have one in a story I wrote. In this case, I thought a pervy unicorn would be more fun than the standard straight man, so to speak. He gets to do and say things I could never get away with writing for the hero/heroine.

MH: Bonus question, what's your favorite unicorn quip? Also, it takes some stones to make a hentai joke in a romance novel, nicely done!

AP: *bows* Yeah. Hentai. Sadly I was exposed to far more of it than I would have liked in college. I do adore anime as a whole though. Favorite quip… (to Abby)

“The Faery Queen’s daughter is missing and *you* were likely the last person to see her. Just answer their questions and be honest. Unless, of course, you really did do something to her,” he amended hastily. “In which case, lie your f--ing ass off.”

MH: The urban fantasy tends to be pretty serious. Is it difficult for you to balance the humor/badassery required of you?

AP: Sometimes – but I think it depends on the scene – but that’s also part of the reason I have Phin (the unicorn). He brings levity to a number of places that might not otherwise have them. As far as badassery goes, I’m not sure Abby is really all that badass, honestly. I tried to make her more normal than anything else (although she’s obviously got some funky powers here and there).

MH: You chose a couple of different mythologies to blend for BRUSH OF DARKNESS, can you tell us a little bit about your world-building process?

AP: Eh. It’s a Kitchen Sink world, I guess. Anything and everything could potentially show up, but the overall flavor of the world building is decidedly Celtic, since I based the original concept of the CrossRoads off of the True Thomas poem Thomas the Rhymer. I knew I wanted to expand on it – the three paths he could have taken essentially equal the three mythological Paths that many of the OtherFolk fall on – Heaven, Hell and Faerie.

MH: There are a veritible crapload of supernatural creatures in BRUSH OF DARKNESS, do you have a favorite?

AP: They’re all fun. Many of the creatures from the Midnight Marketplace scenes are actually cameos of characters I or my friends have run in online RPGs. Sort of inside jokes, I guess.

MH: What's next for you?

AP: The sequel to A Brush of Darkness has been turned in and I’ll have revisions for that soon, as well as the writing of Book 3, so those two things will probably consume most of my time for the next several months. After that, I’ve got a sort of Steampunk fantasy thing I’d like to work on.

OK, everybody, leave a comment below indicating that you've tweeted, Facebooked or mentioned A BRUSH OF DARKNESS on your blog, and your name will be entered to win a copy! The winner will be randomly selected after 5 p.m. Central time Wednesday, March 2. Thanks for stopping by, Allison!

Excerpt from THE ART OF SEDUCING A NAKED WEREWOLF

2011-02-25T20:32:00.002-06:00

There was a little production issue with HOW TO FLIRT WITH A NAKED WEREWOLF and the promised excerpt of THE ART OF SEDUCING A NAKED WEREWOLF was not include in the paperback. So I'm posting it here. THE ART OF SEDUCING A NAKED WEREWOLF comes out on March 29. Enjoy!

Dante Hosts a Baby Shower in the Seventh Circle

1

The best thing about being a werewolf was that you never needed a sports bra.
It’s hard to explain to humans the absolute freedom of running on all fours. The feeling of my feet hitting the ground without anything between the pads of my skin and the earth, the undeniable pull of the moving forward, the spring of the leap, the scent of the cold North wind. It’s every awesome Nike commercial combined, without having to fork over a hundred bucks for shoes. Because you don’t need any shoes. Or boob binders.

I dashed through the underbrush, following the fresh scent trail left by a panicked rabbit. I yipped in my excitement, barreling between trees and under low fingers of pine. The foliage grew thinner, golden-green light filtering through the pine needles as we approached a clearing. Silly Rabbit, heading for open ground. My canine brain was rolling over the potential hilarity of a Silly Rabbit as a Sitting Duck, distracting me from a less familiar scent on the breeze.
Man.

A strange man was not supposed to be wandering this close to the Crescent Valley, a fingernail-moon shaped dent in the Alaskan interior that was a lush, game-filled heaven on Earth for werewolves. Alone, there was nothing I could do but hide, and hope he wasn’t armed. Without breaking my stride, I turned, ducking under the branches of a pine tree the width of a minivan, and waited. I didn’t recognize any part of this human’s scent. It was smoky, mossy, but sort of fresh, like new leaves and my mom’s homemade bread. My mouth started to water a little. That was weird.

My ears perked up at the sound of footsteps trudging through the soft, dry grass. I hunched close to the ground and waited for his boots to appear in my line of vision. I held my breath, knowing I would growl and give myself away. The delicious greenery-and-home-cooking smell invaded my head as two feet stepped precariously close to my hiding spot. Old boots, worn and well cared for, stopped just outside the treeline, as if the wearer was waiting for something.

I heard him uncap a canteen, take several swallows of water, and then step away. I crept further from the branches, getting a better look at the tall, broad-shouldered form. From the back, I could see wavy blond hair sticking out from under an old navy baseball cap on his head. All he had on him was an old backpack and the canteen. So, not a hunter. Probably just a hiker, wandering too far away from the nature preserve.

Still, the fewer humans that saw wolves near the valley, the better. He stopped again and turned. I ducked back under the brush. Branches obscured my view of his face, but his scent grew stronger and my brain sort of, well… stilled. Everything seemed calm and clear and the usual organic alarms that shouted “Stranger danger!” quieted.

I huffed, trying to shake away the strange, numbed feeling. I liked my alarms blaring, thank you very much.

The man tramped into the woods, away from my little village. Some magnetic pull drew my paws in the same direction, to follow. I managed to break the spell and sprang out from under the pine needles, running towards home. The pounding of paws on dirt had almost cleared my head when I picked up a more familiar scent.

I skidded to a stop, my paws dragging into the cool, packed dirt and sending clods spraying onto my mother’s candy pink wool dress.

Mom had a full, round happy face, with twinkling brown eyes and a mouth made for smiling. That didn’t mean she couldn’t be downright scary with the maternal wrath when she wanted to be.

“Margaret Faith Graham, you get on two legs, right now,” she commanded sternly, tapping her slippered foot against the ground. From my oddly fish-eyed, waist-height perspective, it should have been intimidating. But I’d been getting that same look since I’d been old enough to turn wolf. My sister-in-law, Mo, stood behind my mother, giving me her best, “I tried to stop her” expression.

I sat on my haunches and huffed. Mom cocked her fists on her hips. “Don’t you sass me, young lady. Alpha or no, I’ll phase and bite a chunk out of your hide.”

Rolling my eyes, I concentrated on my human form. Arms, legs, fingers, and toes. I felt a warm, tugging sensation, a thread being pulled through my chest, as my body stretched and pulled. I rolled my neck, enjoying the release of tension as my vertebrae snapped into place. My vision blurred into a golden haze, then focused. Finally, I was standing on bare human feet.

I smirked at Mo, who still wasn’t completely comfortable hanging around with the frequently nude. She covered her eyes with one hand while making warning gestures with the other.

“How could you just not bother to show up?” Mom demanded.

I stared at her, my face blank, as I tried to figure out what exactly I’d missed. Honestly, there were a couple of options. Behind Mom, Mo held her hand over her head, making wiggling motions with her fingers. I arched my brow at her. She wiggled her fingers even harder, which really, was so much clearer.

“I was… attacked by a squid?” I guessed.

Mo’s hand dropped to her side and she glared at me as Mom turned to her. Mom rolled her eyes at the both of us. “How is this-“ Mo demanded waving her hand over head, “Attacked by a squid?

I shrugged.

“Shower,” Mo said, wiggling her fingers again. “Baby shower.”

“Well, don’t blame me because you suck at charades.”

“You skipped out on Katie’s baby shower,” Mo told me. Suddenly, Mom wearing her good church dress in the middle of the woods made a lot more sense.

“Oh, well, I wasn’t going to that anyway,” I said, shrugging.
Mom spluttered. “You told me you’d meet us at the community center this afternoon!”

“To help you clean up!” I exclaimed. “There was no way I was going to spend my Sunday measuring Katie’s belly with toilet paper and eating little mints that taste like toothpaste.”

“Well, you’re about two hours late to help with clean-up.”

I look up at the sky, gauging the height of the late afternoon sun. “Oops. I must
have lost track of time.”

“How could you skip your own cousin’s shower?” Mom demanded.

“Because I have eighteen cousins, not counting second cousins, and at any given time at least one of them is pregnant?”

Mom gave me a sharp look and stalked toward the village. Mo gave me a sympathetic grimace.

“Oh, don’t you stand there all pious and pretend you had a good time at the shower,” I told her as we followed Mom’s trail through the trees.

She made a face and whispered fiercely, “You know I didn’t. Hell, I didn’t have a good time at my baby shower. Baby showers should be reserved as punishment for betrayers in the seventh circle of hell. But I went. Why? Because that’s what being part of a family is all about, spending a Sunday afternoon doing stuff you really don’t want to do.”

“Says the woman who moved three thousand miles to be away from her parents,” I said, shrugging into the Carhartt jacket Mo shoved at me. My brother’s light autumn coat practically hung to my knees and could wrap around me twice.

“Yeah, because my parents would have the mother-to-be naked in a drum circle, drawing down the moon goddess. By comparison, your werewolf stuff is downright Rockwellian.”

I snorted. Mo’s parents were unapologetic hippies. Two years before, Mo had moved to Grundy all the way from Mississippi just to get away from them, only relenting and allowing them to visit after Eva’s birth. Now that I’d met them, I couldn’t blame Mo for picking werewolf pack drama over constant hovering and deep discussions of colonics.

I picked up my pace to catch up with Mom. “Wasn’t I sweet as freaking pie to Mo the whole time she was pregnant?” Mom and Mo both raised their eyebrows. I added, “For at least the last trimester. Didn’t I show up when Mo had her cub and present my new niece to the pack like Simba in the damned Lion King?”

“Please stop calling Eva a ‘cub,’” Mo muttered. “You know I hate that.”

“My point is I’m plenty supportive of the women in the pack when they have babies, I just don’t want to be there for the frilly free-for-all,” I said.

Mom, who’d given up on correcting my colorful vocabulary years ago, simply stared at me.

“Mom, please don’t make me pull the Alpha card on you.”

“Being the Alpha doesn’t mean you get to do whatever you want to do without regard for the feelings of others,” Mom intoned in her “important pronouncement” voice, turning away and walking out of the tree line.

“Kind of does,” I countered, but softly, under my breath.

“I can’t wait until you get pregnant,” Mo said. “And you’re forced to sit through your own shower, we’ll probably have to duct-tape you to your pink-bedecked Mother-to-Be throne.”

The very idea of being pregnant made me stop in my tracks and burst out laughing.

“Oh, haha, laugh as much as you want, Scrappy,” Mo told me, as I braced myself against my knees for support. “You’re planning on marrying a male wolf-”

“I didn’t say ‘plan,’” I clarified. “I said, when I get around to mating, I’m going to marry another wolf.”

“Well, you’ll be pregnant before you leave the altar. You know you have super-absorbent eggs. It’s hereditary. Your brother’s ninja swimmers scoffed at modern prophylactics.”

“Ew. Damn it, Mo. I did not need that picture in my head.” I scowled at her. She preened a little and loped after my mother.

Seriously, my brother and his mate were nearly sickening to watch. They were a combination of every nauseating chick flick ever made and the complete catalogue of Barry Manilow’s love songs. But in its own twisted way, their Disney movie love affair helped me reconcile with said brother after years of not speaking and/or knock-down drag-out fights. (The knocking and the dragging was mostly done by me.)

So I was the tiniest bit fond of her, as fond as I could be of a human Outsider.
Mo and I were a study of contrasts. I was small and what I prefer to think of compact and sporty- like one of those Porsche coupes. Mo was one of those “shouldn’t be hot but somehow through the combination of interesting features is” girls. She was willowy and tall, with a black, curly halo of hair that had grown out to her shoulders while she was pregnant with Eva. I had stick-straight aggressively brown hair that I never cut. She tried to be nice to everybody, where I never really bothered with that kind of crap. I charged into situations; she actually thought them through… which usually meant I got the first swing in.

Thanks to Mo, my mom was finally able to do all the frou frou girly bonding shit she wanted to do when I was growing up. You’d think I’d be jealous, but honestly, I was happy for my mom. She’s a smart cookie. She knew that stuff made me miserable and that I would only be suffering through it for her. While Mo actually enjoyed getting her nails done and going shopping for something besides hiking boots.

She cleared her throat and pitched her voice into an intentionally cheerful tone. “Speaking of your brother-”

“If the next words out of your mouth have anything to do with sex, I can and will hurt you.”

“Fine,” she said, frowning. “Then the next words out of my mouth will be ‘fire extinguisher.’”

I scowled at her, self-consciously rubbing at the crown of my head, where she’d actually beaned me with red metal canister to break up a tiny little altercation between Cooper and me. Total overreaction on her part.

“Speaking of my brother,” I prompted her, while sending her a mildly threatening glare as Mom opened the front door of our snug little house on the outskirts of the village. Mo and I stepped through the door as Mom strode into the kitchen to make tea. That’s what she did when she was angry… or upset… or happy. Really, she was an all-occasion tea drinker.

I pulled on a pair of sweats and a t-shirt, wondering how long I would be apologizing for this latest misstep.

“Cooper wanted to know if you could drop by the Glacier in the morning.”

“Why not the house?” I asked, quirking an eyebrow at her.

“Well, there’s someone he wants you to meet, or at least, see.”

I groaned at Mo. “Mo, please tell me he isn’t going to try to set me up on some lame blind date.”

“Not quite. There’s a guy who’s been coming around the saloon asking questions about the attacks last year. Cooper thinks he’s some sort of paranormal investigator. Nicholas Thatcher, PhDs. As in he has more than one. He’s not your typical Paranormal State wacko. There’s not a dowsing crystal or thermal camera in sight. He seems to be doing actual scientific research. As Alpha, Cooper wants you to come by and get a look at him, see what you think.”

I quirked my lips at her. “That was low.”

She grinned at me. I was the youngest leader in our pack’s history and eager to prove my mettle. I’d inherited the job under less than ideal circumstances from our previous Alpha, creepy-ass- and by no coincidence, thoroughly dead- Eli, who took over the job for my self-exiled brother.

It’s a long story.

I took my job as pack leader seriously, and Mo knew the best way to get to me was to appeal to my position. She could be a conniving, sneaky wench, our Mo… hence, my being the tiniest bit fond of her.

“Why the big discussion? Let’s just get rid of him. Run him back to the Lower 48. Or we could go with a slightly less pleasant, but bloody and satisfying, second option.”

“Cooper and I think you should meet him before you jump to any conclusions.”

“Fine, I’ll meet him, and then maybe, his tires develop problems while he’s in the saloon and he ends up careening into a ditch never to be heard from again.”

“You’re a werewolf, not a freaking Mafia hitman.”

“It’ll look like an accident.”

My mother shot me a sharp look, snatching the kettle from the stove with a clatter. “How many family conversations are going to be interrupted by me telling you, no, you can’t kill someone and make it look like an accident? Now would you two please sit down and drink this tea before it gets cold?”

“Yes, ma’am,” we chorused sheepishly, taking seats at the table.

“Way to go, you got us into trouble,” I grumbled.

“I wasn’t the one planning the cold-blood murder of complete stranger,” Mo stage-whispered.

“No, you only plan cold-blooded murders when someone takes the last chocolate chess square without asking.”

“A girl’s got to have her priorities,” Mo insisted.

HOW TO FLIRT WITH A NAKED WEREWOLF is now available

2011-02-22T05:24:00.001-06:00

Happy Release Day! HOW TO FLIRT WITH A NAKED WEREWOLF is now on the shelves!

Bitten by Books event on Tuesday

2011-02-21T16:54:00.004-06:00

Rachel, the wonderful webmistress of Bitten By Books will be hosting an event for the release of HOW TO FLIRT WITH A NAKED WEREWOLF on Tuesday. If you RSVP for the event ahead of time, you will earn an additional 25 entries to win a signed copy of HOW TO FLIRT WITH A NAKED WEREWOLF.

To RSVP and earn the extra entries, click here.

First signing for HOW TO FLIRT WITH A NAKED WEREWOLF

2011-02-21T16:51:00.002-06:00

Hey all,

With HOW TO FLIRT WITH A NAKED WEREWOLF coming out TOMORROW, I thought I should let you know that the first signing for the book will be held at

Saturday, Feb. 26, 2-4 p.m.
Books-a-Million Store
125 S. Hampton Place
Clarksville, TN.

Did I mention that the book is coming out TOMORROW?

Adventures in Long-Term Romance

2011-02-19T14:03:00.005-06:00

When a couple has been together for 17 years, it's difficult to come up with something they haven't done before for Valentine's Day. We've done the dances, the dinners, the movie dates. And this year, Valentine's Day was a random Monday night during which we struggled to get dinner on the table while the kids ran around the house like a couple of caffeine-infused bouncy balls.

I've done a couple of spa days a year for the last few years. I like massages and body wraps, but I'm not a big fan of facials. (I always feel like my face has been sandblasted.) David, however, had never had a massage. I thought it would be fun(ny) to book one for him. So, I made a reservation for a couple's massage at my favorite local spa...

After convincing him that suggesting that I pay to have another person rub his back was not, in fact, an elaborate "relationship test."

Now, David is a manly man. Huntin', fishin', marathon runnin', all that. It's safe to say he has never seen the inside of a spa. And I'll admit I had way too much fun with him in the days leading up to our appointment, describing what "undressing to the level of your comfort" meant. For a day or so, I had him believing that being buck naked or wearing a swim suit and socks were his only two options. (It means strip down to your briefs if you're inclined.)

I also may have briefly misled him into thinking that his massage therapist was going to be a big burly dude.

Now, like most spas, mine is decorated in that Earth-toned, mellowed out fashion that's supposed to keep you from thinking about the outside world. David took one look at the waiting room and said, "It's like Pier One and World Market had a baby."

There was a debate in the changing room, in which I unsuccessfully tried to get him to wear the leopard print spa robe instead of the black one.

Once we got into the therapy room and I convinced David that I was, indeed, just kidding about the bathing suit, we had a lovely time. The massage tables had this heated padding system that I want to get installed in our bedroom somehow. There was plinky-plunky music and low lighting. The therapists were quiet, professional and didn't do the Vulcan nerve pinch once.

I glanced over halfway through the session, and it looked like David was in a coma. He insists I was snoring at point, so I can't judge. As we tried to peel ourselves out of the happy little heated blanket cocoons, he muttered, "If I'd known this is what you did every time I went fishing, I probably would have stayed home with you."

So overall, this Valentine's Day was a success. And we're probably going back for another appointment in a few months.

But I did steal the black robe for the trip back to the changing room.

Special Content from the Fourth Jane Book!

2011-02-18T19:10:00.008-06:00

As promised, here is an excerpt from the as yet untitled fourth Jane book, which is due out in March 2012. To give you some idea of what is happening in the plot, Jane and Gabriel are engaged. Jenny, Mama and Jane have reconciled to a degree, and Jenny and Mama are helping Jane plan the wedding. Jane has hired Iris Scanlon, who specializes in planning vampire weddings to run interference. The scene involves wedding dress shopping with Jane's bridesmaids and family.

Please keep in mind that all materials are subject to change before publication and the property of the author. And don't forget to check out HOW TO FLIRT WITH A NAKED WEREWOLF, which comes out on TUESDAY!!

Enjoy!
Molly
___________________________________________

I didn’t know how comfortable I was mixing my supernatural friends and my family. I mean, sure, my parents hosted a beautiful baby shower for Jolene. But at the time, they didn’t know she was a werewolf. And Andrea had been human at the time. Now that my family was aware of my friends’ “unique” nature, I expected it to feel different.

I hadn’t counted on them bonding over their mutual exasperation with me. My clumsiness, my stubbornness, my ability to injure myself or others just by walking across a room. It was the stuff of instant sisterhood.

“I never thought I’d see the day Jane would voluntarily go shopping,” Mama said, sipping the tea provided by a harried shop assistant named Claire. “I thought poor Andrea would have to use her vampire strength to hog-tie Jane and put her in the trunk.”

"I haven’t read many books on vampire wedding etiquette, but I think hog-tying the bride is rude in any culture,” I noted.

Andrea ignore me, adding, “I practically have to force her to go with me at gunpoint to shop for jeans. She always finds cute stuff, with my guidance, but she acts like I’m torturing her.”

“Well, to be fair, she has flashbacks,” my sister added, winking at me as she handed me a fluffy full-skirted gown.

“Jenny,” I said in a low, warning tone.

Mama looked at me quizzically and then burst out laughing, “Oh! I’d almost forgotten about that.”

Jolene and Andrea exchanged glances, silently debating over whether the potential hilarity could be worth suffering my wrath. They grinned simultaneously.

Uh-oh.

“I hate you guys,” I mumbled as I strode into the dressing room and took the first of Mama’s dresses off the hanger.

As I wrestled my way into what felt like miles of tulle, Jenny was telling the story of Homecoming dress shopping with me my sophomore year. Jenny was nominated for the court, so Mama was insisting I go to the dance to support her. Jenny, of course, had already picked out her gown before she was even nominated. But it was three days before the big event and I was still lobbying to wear jeans and combat boots. Mama and Jenny had frog-marched me into the Tot, Teen and Tween Shop downtown to find something “that won’t make you look like a motherless hobo,” as Mama had so gently put it.

After a dozen ruffled, bow-covered nightmares, I’d decided I’d had enough. I yanked a dress over my head, forgetting about the zipper. The zipper got caught in my hair. I felt like I was being attacked by the ghosts of evil prom queens past and fought back. And because the dressing rooms were framed with curtains instead of doors…

“She came stumbling out of the dressing room into the shop with her panties bared and her dress over her head,” Jenny hooted.

Andrea and Jolene were falling all over each other laughing. I glared at the lot of them.

“I think I remember why I hate shopping,” I said, my hands on my hips.

“Oh, honey,” Mama murmured, her eyes misting. “It’s so beautiful!”

I turned toward the mirror and flinched.

“I look like a bad meringue hallucination,” I said. The skirt seemed to explode from beneath the bodice, making my hips look a mile wide. The hem was hovering about an inch off the ground and revealed my white gym socks. The sleeves were those padded “belle” sleeves, but they’d long since deflated and hung from my biceps like droopy balloons. Iris had stopped in her tracks across the shop and dropped the tiara she’d been holding.

“You look like Cinderella,” Mama cooed. Behind her, Iris, Jolene and Andrea were shaking their head in sync.

“If she was doing the walk of shame home from the ball,” Andrea muttered. Jolene and Jenny snickered. I bit my lip to keep from joining in.

What? Even I can appreciate a good snark at my own expense.

“You couldn’t have worn nicer socks?” Mama asked. “Well, baby, I’d say you have a winner first time out.”

I shrugged. “Mama, this is not the dress.”

“But you look so-”

“Mama, I want you to close your eyes. And for just one moment, forget how excited you are about me finally getting married, and how excited you are about finally seeing me in an actual wedding dress. Close your eyes and really think about my body type and what looks good on me.”

Mama complied.

“Now open your eyes,” I said.

Her eyelids popped open and she scanned me from head to toe. She blanched and she made her “I smell something face.”

She shook her head, as if that would make the image go away. “Oh, honey, no.”

I nodded, my lips tucked into a humorless grimace. “There we go.”

“That is not the dress.”

I shook my head slowly. “I would like this off of me now.”

Claire helped me wrestle the skirt back into the dressing room. “Don’t feel bad, Miss Jameson, this dress has been here since 1992. It’s been forced on countless brides by their mothers. It’s still here. That should tell you something.”

I thought of all of the women who had worn this dress before me and shuddered.

“We have it cleaned a few times a year,” she assured me.

The rest of the evening was a blur as my friends and family argued over which silhouette suited me best. Jenny and Mama went to search in the backroom, where the owner stored the dresses for brides with “problem areas.” Iris had begun making notes on which manufacturers she could call for special samples.

“What’s that?” I asked, pointing to the light purplish blue-grey dress hanging on a rack near the register.

Claire laughed. “Oh, that’s a dress for the costume shop down the street. Our seamstresses do repairs and alterations for them all the time. DeeDee Wannamaker dressed up as Elizabeth Bennett for some charity costume thing a few weeks back and split a seam. That just goes to show that dress clothes and a few dozen sausage balls don’t mix.”

I stepped closer to the dress. I lifted the plastic bag protecting the material and smiled. This was the sort of dress an Austen character would wear… in a highly sanitized, beautifully lit movie adaptation. And unlike every other dress in this shop, I could actually see myself marrying Gabriel in it.

I turned over the tag and saw that the dress was my size. Obviously, the wedding dress gods were smiling on me.

“Can I try it on?” I asked Claire.

“I don’t see why not. Just avoid any sausage balls.”

“Not a problem.”

“It’s been dry-cleaned, right?” I heard Andrea ask as I went back into the dressing room.

I slipped the dress on and it seemed to caress me like water sliding down my skin. It was light and comfortable. There was a smattering of beadwork along the empire waist, emphasizing the elegant bell of the skirt. The hem was scalloped with lace and beadwork. The sleeves were short and capped and actually made my arms look long and graceful.

I wanted to be married in this dress. That special feeling that all brides talk about? Finding “the one,” this was it. I ripped the curtain back and stepped out. Andrea and Jolene squealed. Confirmed!

“Oh, my gosh, it’s so beautiful,” Andrea gushed as Jenny clapped her hands over her mouth.

Jolene’s face fell from its usually luminous smile. “But wait, it’s a rental gown. People have worn it before you. It’s used.”

“It’s vintage,” I corrected her.

“It’s icky,” she mewled.

“I wore vintage at my wedding, and you didn’t say it was icky,” Andrea said, her brow lifted.

“I did, you just didn’t hear me,” Jolene retorted, wincing when Andrea punched her arm, “Ow! This is what I get for hanging out with vampires. My aunts tried to warn me.”

“Your aunts are vicious bitches,” Andrea shot back.

Jolene shrugged. “You’re not wrong.”

“Hello, can we re-focus on my bridal hotness?” I demanded, gesturing to the long, slender lines the dress somehow “magicked” onto my body.

“Jane, I think we need to go with a ball gown and a long-sleeved jacket,” Mama was saying as she emerged from the back room. She stopped in her tracks when she saw me and tilted her head, her expression confused. “Oh, well, that’s nice.”

“Nice? Mama, that’s gorgeous,” Jenny said, stepping closer so she could examine the beading. “Really, really beautiful, Jane, and so completely you.’”

“It’s so nice to hear you say that and know you don’t mean it as an insult,” I told
her. She nodded as she bent to examine the hem.

“But it’s grey,” Mama said. “And it’s not a wedding dress.”

“We could definitely build a theme around the dress,” Iris offered.

“But it’s so plain,” Mama whined. “And I’m just not getting the ‘bridal’ feeling from it.”

“But I am getting a bridal feeling from it.”

“But why grey? Why not white?” Mama asked.

I smirked. “Mama, if you really want to have that discussion, I will give you a detailed explanation. For once, I have details to give.”

“I do not want to hear this,” Andrea said, shaking her head.

“I think I do,” Jenny said. When Andrea and Jolene turned toward her, surprised, she lifted her hands in a defensive gesture. “Hey, I’m the only one having completely human sex here. I don’t think curiosity is out of line.”

“But Jane, everyone will think-”

“No one’s going to think anything. It’s not like it’s possible for me to be pregnant. I’m a vampire. All the traditional planning rules have been drop-kicked out the window. Besides, wedding dresses weren’t traditionally white until Victoria made it popular. It’s not an authenticity stamp or anything. So, tell me, forgetting that this is supposed to be virginal white. Do I look pretty?”

Mama took my face between her hands. “Absolutely gorgeous.”

Close to 200 Followers!

2011-02-17T19:09:00.003-06:00

Remember months ago, when I declared that when I reached at least 200 followers on Twitter and the blog, I would post special bonus content here on the blog?

Well, we were within kissing distance of 200 followers here at NICE GIRLS DON'T WRITE NAUGHTY BOOKS. So you have to vote on whether you want special content from

HOW TO FLIRT WITH A NAKED WEREWOLF

THE ART OF SEDUCING A NAKED WEREWOLF

OR

A little bit of content from the fourth Jane book.

Leave your votes in the comment section!

By the way, did I mention the fourth Jane book is being released in March 2012?

And this is why I will never run out of book material...

2011-02-17T19:00:00.003-06:00

So I had lunch at Panera with my husband, David, today. He had to leave a little early and while he was walking out, the sweet-looking older ladies at the next table noticed he was wearing his gun, badge and cuffs. They started talking amongst themselves about whether was police or FBI. (David got a kick out of that.)

I told them indeed, he was a police officer. They made a few comments about how strange it must be to wear the badge all of the time. And then one of them piped up, "The cuffs got our attention. We were just talking about someone who left her husband for someone she met in a bondage chatroom."

I did not see that coming.

One of the other ladies said, "You have to watch us when we get together. You get older and the filter just goes away."

Boy, howdy.

Various Blog Interviews and Giveaways

2011-02-17T18:07:00.005-06:00

I'm doing a bit of a blog tour to promote HOW TO FLIRT WITH A NAKED WEREWOLF. You can win a free copy by partiicpating!

Here's a 20 Questions game with Bookhounds
http://maryinhb.blogspot.com/2011/02/20-questions-with-molly-harper-author.html

Giveaway with Bookhounds
http://maryinhb.blogspot.com/2011/02/20-questions-with-molly-harper-author.html

Q&A with the Fiction Enthusiast
http://thefictionenthusiast.blogspot.com/2011/02/author-interview-molly-harper.html

Amberkazte
http://amberkatze.blogspot.com/2011/02/author-interview-contest-with-molly.html
I'll post other links here soon.

Winner for the Valentine's Day Giveaway

2011-02-15T18:09:00.002-06:00

OK, I randomly selected Jolene Allcock to receive a copy of HOW TO FLIRT WITH A NAKED WEREWOLF. Also, because Anci's story was just sad, I'm sending one to her, too.

Could you please send me your shipping info to jane.jameson AT hotmail.com?

Thanks,
Molly

Good news all around today!

2011-02-14T20:39:00.005-06:00

I found out this morning that AND ONE LAST THING... has won the CataNetwork Single Title Reviewer's Choice Award for 2010, which is awesome.

Also, I will be attending the RT BookLovers Convention in Los Angeles from April 6-10!

HAPPY VALENTINE'S DAY

2011-02-13T21:51:00.002-06:00

Happy Valentine's Day, everybody. In honor of the schmoopiest day of the year, I thought I'd offer a giveaway of my latest book, HOW TO FLIRT WITH A NAKED WEREWOLF.

Leave a comment below in which you reveal the sappiest, sweetest romantic thing a significant other has done for you. Link, Tweet, or Facebook this post. (Let me know which one you did.) And you will qualify for a signed copy of HOW TO FLIRT WITH A NAKED WEREWOLF.

As for me, I've come not to expect a whole lot of pre-planned romance from my husband, David. I mean, we've been together for 18 years. He only has so many tricks in his bag. But every once in a while, he really pulls out all of the stops. Like during Christmas 2003, he suddenly declared that we would be opening our presents two weeks early. He brought me this red paper mache box covered in rose patterns. Inside were a Phantom mask and two tickets to see Phantom of the Opera on Broadway. We were leaving for New York in a week and he'd already arranged for me to get the time off with my boss.

Seeing a show on Broadway was one of the top ten things on my Bucket List. David knew that and he managed to plan the whole thing as complete surprise.

That is, without a doubt, the most romantic thing he's ever done for me.

So what's your story? Leave a comment and I will randomly select a winner on Tuesday, Feb. 15.

How the Snowpocalypse Led to HOW TO FLIRT WITH A NAKED WEREWOLF

2011-02-12T21:53:00.001-06:00

An ice storm. Stranded in a strange, isolated place without power. Children with an unsettling ability to win staring contests. This is how horror movies start.

Watching the news coverage as cities across the Midwest are pelted by the much-touted historic blizzard, I’m having strange sympathy pangs. In January 2009, an ice storm ripped through Kentucky, taking out power and phone lines for thousands of homes, including mine. The first night I spent camped out in my in-laws’ darkened living room with my two young children, I was sure this was just a temporary blip. It was going to be a funny story we could tell the next winter. As in, “Remember that night we had to sleep on an air mattress in front of Grandma’s fireplace and cook on a gas grill in the garage?”

By the sixth night, I was no longer amused.

Over the next week, Kentuckians were cold, cranky and progressively ill-groomed. I returned to my dark, cold house to forage for supplies one afternoon, only to find my neighbor shaving his head in his driveway. I sincerely hoped that was related to the lack of electricity and not just a personality quirk I'd never noticed before. Neighborhood block parties have been stilted and awkward since.

But I managed to channel my cabin fever, before going the full fire-ax-through-bedroom-door and elevator-full-of-blood route. I started writing. Having recently published the Nice Girls books, a vampire romance series about an undead librarian in small-town Kentucky, I’d already decided that I wanted to write a werewolf story. And being isolated, in the dark, in an increasingly crowded, enclosed space, I decided to set the story in the frozen regions of Alaska.

While we waited for the power to come back on, I wrote about twenty pages of notes by candlelight. What emerged was the story of Mo Wenstein, a woman who moves across the country to escape her intrusive hippie parents and make a life for herself in the remote town of Grundy, Alaska. Cantankerous neighbor Cooper has been giving Mo a hard time about her place in her new community since day one. But when Cooper stumbles onto her porch, naked, with a bear trap clamped around his ankle, she realizes there’s more to him than a surly- though attractive- surface. A series of werewolf attacks, for which Cooper may or may not be responsible, dysfunctional werewolf clan drama, and romantic hijinks ensue.

The manuscript grew over the next few months and became HOW TO FLIRT WITH A NAKED WEREWOLF, which is due to be released by Pocket Books on Feb. 22, wherever books are sold. The sequel, THE ART OF SEDUCING A NAKED WEREWOLF, will follow on March 29.

So, while the encroaching claustrophobia is frustrating, make the best of your snow days. Use the milk, eggs and bread you hoarded to make French toast. Plow through the To-Be-Read pile of paperbacks on your nightstand. Write journal entries about the sights, sounds and emotions you’re experiencing as a blizzard survivor.

You never know. You could turn this experience into your first manuscript.

Storming Louisville

2011-02-08T19:23:00.003-06:00

And yes, until this flipping snow lets up, most of my blog entry titles will contain storm references.

I will be spending most of March 19 in Louisville. First, I'll be doing a book signing at:

1-3 p.m.
A Reader's Corner
138 Breckinridge Lane

And then I'll be holding my first-ever launch party for HOW TO FLIRT WITH A NAKED WEREWOLF at

7-9 p.m.
The Bard's Town
1801 Bardstown Road

I hope to see you there!

Fun Austen-lovers quiz

2011-02-06T13:16:00.002-06:00

I'm watching the Colin Firth version of Pride and Prejudice today and found this fun quiz over at StrangeGirl.com. I was actually a little surprised by the results.

Take the Quiz here!

You are Elizabeth Bennet of Pride & Prejudice! You are intelligent, witty, and tremendously attractive. You have a good head on your shoulders, and oftentimes find yourself the lone beacon of reason in a sea of ridiculousness. You take great pleasure in many things. You are proficient in nearly all of them, though you will never own it. Lest you seem too perfect, you have a tendency toward prejudgement that serves you very ill indeed.

I always saw myself as Anne Elliot type, or maybe Elinor Dashwood. (But hey, it's better than being Catherine Morland!)

If you'd like to take the quiz, the link is here.

In which I pull back the curtain...

2011-02-05T06:52:00.003-06:00

And reveal that the Wizard is just a guy in a hot air balloon.

I spoke to a group of high school students on Thursday about writing and getting published. They were a great group, engaged, thoughtful, asking great questions. It was very cool as one of my former English teachers was there and came in to tell the kids that even in high school, she and the other English teachers called me "the next Erma Bombeck." (Which was so much nicer than what I suspect they called some of my classmates.)

At the end of the session, we were talking about where I get my ideas for books. I explained that I get most of my ideas from every day life - conversations, the news, funny things I see while out and about. But the kids seemed to think there was some sort of magical formula. Like I sat in front of a crystal ball and a higher power sent these ideas to me. (If only.)

Eventually, one of the girls made a teasing comment about the other wearing the "special jacket" that day. It turns out there's a boy at their school who smells "completely awesome," so the girls all want to wear his hoodie around at school. They apparently take turns and seem very civil about the whole thing.

I said, "OK, there's an idea right there."

"What?"

"Say you've got this guy, who smells fantastic, he's irresistable to all women. They follow him around like he's Justin Bieber with a normal haircut," I aid. "Maybe his family's under a curse or he's an incubus. And while he was pretty happy about this during his teens, now he's lonely, because he can't find someone to love. He never knows whether a woman really loves him, or if it's his evil smell powers. Maybe he meets the girl of his dreams and he's desperate to get her to love him for real. Maybe he meets a girl who's under her own curse, so she's got similar trust issues. That's the beginning of a book idea."

They blinked and frowned, confused. "That's it?"

"Uh-huh. I mean, it's rough, but you could eventually turn it into something."

"You just see or hear something from every day life and you make it into a book?" they asked.

I nodded.

The girls seemed oddly disappointed.

I didn't have the heart to tell them about The Legend of Stephanie Meyer's Lucrative First-Time Author Book Deal, and how it didn't apply to all writers. It seemed cruel.

Blog storm!

2011-02-04T19:50:00.002-06:00

My publicist at Pocket sent out a mass e-mail to bloggers yesterday about my experiences in the 2009 ice storn and how they lead to writing HOW TO FLIRT WITH A NAKED WEREWOLF. Several blogs have posted it. You can find some of them here:

Layers of Thought

Broken Teepee

Poisoned Rationality

Other blogs have posted interviews and Q&A's, the first one is posted here:

Romance Author Buzz

More good review news!

2011-01-31T19:00:00.002-06:00

HOW TO FLIRT WITH A NAKED WEREWOLF has been named a TOP PICK! for this month by the Romantic Times with 4.5 stars.

And...

I finally got a HOT rating! I'm so excited. I got MILD sensuality ratings for all three Jane books. But for the werewolves, I skipped over WARM and went straight for HOT! So yes, it's a little more naughty, but still the same humor and sass.

HOW TO FLIRT WITH A NAKED WEREWOLF will be released on Feb. 22, 2011. It's available for pre-order on Amazon.

First Review for HOW TO FLIRT WITH A NAKED WEREWOLF

2011-01-30T21:39:00.004-06:00

Yay! The first official review for HOW TO FLIRT WITH A NAKED WEREWOLF.

The reviewer at Fresh Fiction said, "Riveting Suspense, Hilarous Dialogue and Lusty Love Scenes Make This First of a New Series a Winner."

Read the full review here

And this is why I love him...

2011-01-19T18:18:00.003-06:00

I'm always paranoid about using my phone while I'm driving. So to put one more obstacle between me and the temptation to check my texts and emails at stoplights, I installed the DriveSafe.ly app yesterday. It notifies you when you have a new message and reads it loud enough that you don't even have to look at the phone.

The only weird part is the voice is a cold, almost British-sounding lady. So now all of my friends sound really detached and aloof.

At dinner, I explained the new app to my husband, David, who was intrigued. I could almost see the wheels turning in his head. I turned my back to see to the dishes, and I heard a robotic female voice say, "I'm a naughty pirate. argh."

I turned around and saw David fiddling with his phone, typing out a text message.

I arched an eyebrow. "Really?"

"If you want my body and you think I'm sexy, come on sugar, let me know," the lady robot proclaimed.

I sighed as the child-like glee spread across his face.

"Hey, wench, stop reading my personal text messages," the voice said. "I want to talk to my wife. Love, David."

I leaned against the counter while he continued to type out more ridiculous/dirty messages. "This right here," I told him. "This is why I married you."

Hey, don't judge, it works for us.

The National Post helps me make Chicken Salad

2011-01-12T18:05:00.003-06:00

When you’re a writer, you have to have a thick skin. On the off chance you manage to survive dozens of rejections from potential agents and then even more rejections from publishers, eventually, Lord willing, your book is going to be reviewed. It’s safe to say I have been criticized by some very well-qualified people. Still, I was taken by surprise by the following:

http://arts.nationalpost.com/2011/01/06/the-least-anticipated-books-of-2011/

That’s right, HOW TO FLIRT WITH A NAKED WEREWOLF has been listed as one of the LEAST ANTICIPATED books of 2011 by the National Post.

Eventually, I managed to giggle a little bit. I mean, when else am I ever going to be listed with Snooki, Star Jones or that angry-looking dude from the Black Eyed Peas?

And then I realized, the National Post did me a favor. Because, despite the fact that I am 99 percent sure he has never read a single word I’ve written, Mark Medley has just put my name and title out there for all of his readers to see. And he gave me the makings of a great blurb. “The next True Blood?" From your lips to God’s ears, pal.

So, I’m going to use this for all it’s worth. I’ll post it on my blog, my website, my Facebook page- my agent’s already Tweeted it. Heck, I might even ask my publisher to put it on a cover as a blurb.

And that, as my dear Mama would say, is making chicken salad out of… something else that chickens make.

Playlist for HOW TO FLIRT WITH A NAKED WEREWOLF

2011-01-08T09:07:00.012-06:00

To help you get in the mood for HOW TO FLIRT WITH A NAKED WEREWOLF, I'm going to post the playlist I used while I was writing it.

To remind you of the plot:

Even in Grundy, Alaska, it’s unusual to find a naked guy with a bear trap clamped to his ankle on your porch. But when said guy turns into a wolf, recent southern transplant Mo Wenstein has no difficulty identifying the problem. Her surly neighbor Cooper Graham—who has been openly critical of Mo’s ability to adapt to life in Alaska—has trouble of his own. Werewolf trouble.

For Cooper, an Alpha in self-imposed exile from his dysfunctional pack, it’s love at first sniff when it comes to Mo. But Cooper has an even more pressing concern on his mind. Several people around Grundy have been the victims of wolf attacks, and since Cooper has no memory of what he gets up to while in werewolf form, he’s worried that he might be the violent canine in question.

If a wolf cries wolf, it makes sense to listen, yet Mo is convinced that Cooper is not the culprit. Except if he’s not responsible, then who is? And when a werewolf falls head over haunches in love with you, what are you supposed to do anyway? The rules of dating just got a whole lot more complicated. . . .

I was writing about Alaska, a place that's open and grand and sort of dramatic. And because the characters are dealing with issues a bit more serious than my previous books, I went a little more emo with the playlist. There's a shameful amount of techno, but there's some good stuff on here, a little road trip music, some sexy stuff, songs that sort of capture the sensations I was trying to imagine running and fighting as a wolf in the middle of the Alaskan wilderness. I used some of the same songs for THE ART OF SEDUCING A NAKED WEREWOLF, I'll post that list next month.

Ramble On - Led Zepplin

Solisbury Hill - Peter Gabriel

Strange and Beautiful - Aqualung
(This is the song I heard in my head when I imagined Mo meeting Cooper. Everything in the room sort of slows down and all she can do is stare at his mouth. His yummy, toothy mouth.)

Lacrymosa - Evansecence

Haunted -Evanescence

Time is Running Out - Muse

Gravity of Love - Enigma

Heartless (Swinghouse Session) - The Fray
(Seriously, I love that song. It's Kanye without having to actually listen to Kanye.)

Black Milk - Massive Attack
(This is, well, the "getting down" song. It is weird that my characters have one? BTW, Mezzanine is such a great album. If you don't own it, you should.)

Icarus - Mythos

The Bird and the Worm - The Used

Unstoppable - ES Posthumus

Pompeii - ES Posthumus

Nara - ES Posthumus

My Lover's Gone - Dido

Apologize - Silverstein
(A slightly more rocked out version of the One Republic classic. Love it.)

Mother Just Can't Get Enough

HOW TO FLIRT WITH A NAKED WEREWOLF comes out on Feb. 22, 2011. Hope you enjoy the music!

WINNER for the Jane Porter Holiday Disaster Contest

2011-01-03T18:37:00.002-06:00

Congratulations to Danielle Marie Peck and Virginia C! You have won copies of FLIRTING WITH FORTY by Jane Porter and my own book, AND ONE LAST THING. Just send your shipping information to jane.jameson AT hotmail.com and I will get those to you ASAP!

Cover for the German version of Nice Girls Don't Live Forever

2010-12-30T21:42:00.004-06:00

How cute is this? It will be available in July 2011.

The One Christmas That Wasn't a Disaster

2010-12-24T06:14:00.005-06:00

So I've been writing all week about my various holiday misadventures. Now I want to talk about one pretty memorable Christmas that was nothing but good.

Eighteen years ago on Tuesday, I went on my first date with my husband, David. I was 14, and he was 16. I had a huge crush on him, with his big brown eyes and easy smile. And he was four inches taller than me, which is super-hot when you're a high school freshman and you're almost six feet tall.

We were set up for a double by David's cousin, Stewart, his then-fiance, Shanna. My parents, well, my dad, wasn't exactly thrilled at the idea of my dating a boy two years older than me. I think it had to do with David's weird semi-mohawk haircut. (Which I LOOOOOOOOOOVED.)

My parents told me that I could only date during the day until I turned 16. Matinee movies, lunch dates, etc. I think they thought that would make David lost interest, if dating me was sort of inconvenient. To their surprise, he put up with that for two years. Ultimately, that's what made them trust him and come to love him. Because now, they pretty much like him better than their biological kids.

I spent forever getting ready for that date. Imagine my surprise when I opened the door to find that David wasn't there! I started to panic, but Shanna explained that his mom didn't realize he had a date and scheduled a doctors appointment for him, since we were out of school.

We had to go pick hom at the doctors office, which was the weirdest way to start a date. We went to see A Few Good Men. I was so nervous, my palms sweated constantly. I didn't realize, in the dark, that David had his hand outstretched on his knee for most of the movie so I would hold it. Shanna thought our inability to figure out how to hold hands was pathetic, and insisted that we were all going out again on Dec. 24. She said we had no choice. We were both relieved not to have to face the "we need to do this again sometime" conversation.

And then the poor guy had to drop me off at my house and face interrogation by my gigantic smartass uncles who were in town for the holiday.

On Thursday, we went to see The Bodyguard. David took my hand immediately after the lights went out, just to get Shanna off his back. By the time, Kevin Costner carted Whitney Houston out of that night club, he'd leaned over and kissed me. I immediately told him, "I don't want to date anyone else. You're mine now." and that was it for us.

Seven years of dating, ten years of marriage, and two kids later, he still insists "I Will Always Love You" is our song since we were seeing The Bodyguard when I "told him I was his girlfriend." But I hate that song, since it's basically about leaving someone. And when we see a movie, he still leaves his hand on his knee, so I can hold it.

Happy Anniversary, Babe.

And Merry Christmas to all!

Today's holiday disaster: The Abused Christmas Tree

2010-12-22T21:10:00.002-06:00

I am allergic to real Christmas trees.

It's sad but true. Every Christmas when I was a kid, my parents would get a real tree and I would end up sick as a dog by the time Christmas morning rolled around. There was one year that my parents got me this awesome two-man tent and set it up in the living room with all my presents inside. My brother and sister were opening their presents and Mom said, "Where's Molly?" I was inside the tent, asleep from all the decongestants I was on.

So my doctor finally figured out that the trees were what was making me sick and recommended that my parents switch to an artificial tree. My brother, Matt, is still irritated by this and fondly remembers going to the Christmas tree farm to pick our tree, "before Molly and her stupid nose ruined Christmas."

Fast foward to David and I getting married and buying our own artificial tree. Christmas has always been a big deal to us, because we started dating on Christmas Eve, so we went all out and got a really nice model. We brought it home and set it up and realize it was about two inches too tall for our ceiling.

"No problem," said David. "I have a piple cutter. I'll just cut an inch or two off the bottom stem."

We didn't realize that the bottom of the tree was tapered for a reason - so it would fit snugly into the tree stand. Cutting off the bottom meant out brand new tree leaned about 10 degrees to the right at any given time. Our angel looked sort of tipsy. Still, we duct taped it upright and it looked great.

The next year, while I was unloading the tree, one of the branches that was "guaranteed to hinge neatly for perfect storage" snapped off in my hands. This set off some sort of hinge chain reaction that led to three more branches jumping ship. I now had a bald spot the size of a Buick on the back my tree. I dutifully angled the bald patch toward a corner and decorated around it, then duct taped the tree into its stand for safety.

The next year was something of a brown recluse baby boom in western Kentucky. Spider bites went through the roof at local emergency rooms. Home owners were warned to be careful as they opened boxes of winter clothes and blankets, because that's where the recluses like to set up their little spider condos.

When I was unloading Baldy the Christmas Tree from the attic, David said, "You better open the box outside on the deck, you never know what could be hiding in there."

I scoffed and told him it would be fine, but I dragged the box outside just to avoid an argument. I went back inside for something and David started going through the box to find the tree stand. Just then, three huge brown spiders crawled over the lip of the box, as if to say, "Who the hell do you think you are? Moving our condo outside?"

David yelped. I screamed. We shoved the box as far as we could away from the house.

"That's it!" I yelled. "We're getting a new tree!"

More holiday disasters: Santa Claus is Dead

2010-12-21T18:00:00.003-06:00

I've decided that I'll be posting my holidays disasters every day this week because, well, I have enough stories to last for the next month.

Children are not encouraged to read this blog as this is the story of how I learned that Santa Claus isn't real. I was 6 or 7 and my family was living in Mississippi. A lot of our neighbors were very... rural. And considering that we were originally from Kentucky, that's saying something.

Now, Shannon was a school friend whose family lived down the street. Her dad, Charlie, was VERY rural. As in tricking small children into trying chitterlings, rural. (My tastebuds were never the same.) And he had a rather weird sense of humor.

Apparently, he thought it would be hilarious to get his older daughter to come storming into the house, one afternoon just before Christmas, pretending to be upset, because her "school office" sent home a letter telling parents that Christmas had been cancelled. Why? Because Santa Claus had been shot in a post office robbery.

That's right. They told me that Santa had been gunned down while waiting for stamps.

I was, of course, quite upset by the news and promptly burst into hysterical tears. Did Dad or older daughter put an end to the joke and assure me that everything was OK and Christmas was still on schedule? No. They sent me home.

Because my sister, Manda, was 4 and did believe in Santa, I decided to suck it up and pretend like nothing happened. I didn't want to upset her. I guess, even as a kid, I had a bit of a martyr complex.

So all evening I was quiet and glum, through dinner and bathtime and bedtime. All the while, my stomach churning and I wanted to cry. I went to bed, only to wake up at 2 a.m., screaming at the top of my lungs, "SANTA'S DEAD! HE'S DEAD! THEY SHOT HIM!"

My parents thought I was having a nightmare until I tearfully confessed that Mr. Charlie had broken the bad news earlier that day. Santa was dead. My dad left the room to call Charlie.

To this day, I don't know what was said. I do know that I didn't see Shannon all that much after that.

My parents had to confess that Santa had not been shot in a post office robbery, it was because he wasn't real. They told me the whole story about parents buying, hiding and setting up presents on Christmas Eve. I felt betrayed for about five minutes before I realized I'd been let into a secret club of "people who knew." And that I would be able to collude with my parents to prolong the Santa myth for Manda, and later, my brother, Matt. And I did, for years, and I made sure that when they were old enough, I was the one who GENTLY told them about the Santa myth. I did not allow robberies to enter into it.

So there we have it. My traumatic Santa story. How did you find out the big guy wasn't real?

Holiday Disasters Redux: The Nintendo Incident

2010-12-20T21:53:00.003-06:00

Hey All,

Since everyone seemed to enjoy the Holiday Disasters Sharing, I thought I'd give you just another of example of how my family warped me into the person I am today. When I was 11 or so, the Great Original Nintendo Craze swept the nation, and if you weren't shooting pixelated ducks with an orange and gray plastic gun, you were missing out.

My parents weren't bandwagon-jumpers when it came to toy fads. Our Care Bears and Cabbage Patch Kids were sewn from kits. Mom taught us how to bake real cakes instead of using an Easy Bake Oven. There was no place for Sea Monkeys in the Harper home.

But, somehow, some way, my parents managed to obtain a Nintendo system just before Christmas. They hid it where they always hid the Christmas presents, in their bedroom closet, behind my Dad's mustard yellow bathrobe. Imagine our thrill as my brother, Matt, 5, and sister, Manda, 8, and I conducted our annual snooping expedition through the closet. There it was, that year's Holy Grail of Christmas presents, and we were getting one. We squealed and hopped up and down so violently, we nearly knocked over a dresser.

This was about a week before Christmas. Every year, the weekend before Christmas, before our Grandma Bobby took us out to lunch at Patti's, a local restaurant known for its Christmas decorations and mile-high meringue pie. As we were enjoying our pie, Manda pipes up, "Hey Grandma, guess what? Mom and Dad got us a Nintendo for Christmas. We found it in the closet!"

Grandma Bobby arched an eyebrow and said, "Oh, really?"

Even Matt knew Manda had just done something really stupid.

Christmas Eve rolled around and we were waiting for Dad to come home from his annual last minute shopping frenzy. (Because shopping before Dec. 24 is for sissies.) Mom carried the Nintendo box to the front door as we yelled, "Hey! Hey! Where are you going with that?"

Mom said, "Oh, I'm just taking this over to the neighbors' house. They asked me to keep this over at our house, so their kids wouldn't find it. Apparently, they snoop all over the house, trying to find their presents, isn't that awful?"

We stammered agreements about how horrible the neighbors kids were, and watched as Mom hauled away our Christmas dreams.

Christmas morning came and no Nintendo. We were crushed. Sure, the art sets and Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles were nice, but there were no Nintendo. We went over to Grandma Bobby's for Christmas lunch and Grandma pulled us aside to give us a "special" Christmas gift. A Nintendo cassette.

Cue the crying. "We didn't get a Nintendo, Grandma!"

Grandma feigned innocence. "But you said you found one in your parents' closet!"

"It was for the neighbors kids!" we wailed.

Mom rolled her eyes and said, "Look behind the tree."

There, behind the tree, was the Nintendo, which Mom had hidden at Grandma's house after Grandma Bobby let her know what rotten snoops she was raising. We were torn between elation and confusion. One of us may have cried. A lot.

"And let that be a lesson to you," Mom said. "No more snooping."

Did Mom change the location of her Christmas present stash? No.

Did we ever snoop around looking for Christmas presents again? No.

Did we play the hell out of Duck Hunt? Yes.

Holiday Disaster! Giveaway with Jane Porter

2010-12-17T17:41:00.005-06:00

Hey All,

Today we're hosting a little holiday trauma session and giveaway with absolutely fantastic Jane Porter.

I was lucky enough to be seated next to Jane at the Kentucky Book Fair, and having spent most of the day people-watching and sharing ridiculous stories from our lives, I can honestly say I want to be her when I grow up.

Jane's sharing her favorite holiday disaster story with us today, while my "Saga of the Exploding Stuffing" is posted at Jane's site. See details below on how to enter to win a copy of Jane's "Flirting With Forty." You may remember it was recently made into a Lifetime movie with Heather Locklear.

So here's Jane's tale of holiday woe:

My personal best Christmas disaster incident happened shortly after I became a single mom and went shopping for a Christmas tree with my boys. In fact it made such an impact on me, I actually wrote the scene into my novel, Flirting With Forty. Here’s an excerpt to share the scene… My main character Jacquie has just arrived home with her kids and they’re trying to maneuver the Christmas tree from the car into the house to set it up….

“Okay, William, Jessica, stand back,” I hang on to the SUV’s roof rack. “I’m going to drag the tree to the edge and then drop it down.”

I scoot the tree across the roof, cringing as the branches squeak and scratch.

Even though this isn’t a double trunk tree this year, it’s still heavy, heavier than expected and suddenly its caught on one of the rack rails. I tug, the tree doesn’t budge, I check the twine, it’s cut, check the tree, the branches aren’t caught. The tree is just too heavy to knock off the roof.

“William, I’m going to need a hand. Be careful.”

He’s eager to help. Jumps up on the driver’s seat, reaches for the top part of the tree.

I grunt as fresh noble fir branches slap my face. Another good hard yank and I should have tree off….

I put on a CD of Nat King Cole’s Christmas carols, do a little stretching, okay—feeling vaguely like Owen Wilson in Shanghai Noon—but that’s fine. Anything to keep this fun.

Jess, William and I fling open all the doors, grab a piece of tree and drag-carry our increasingly less noble, Noble Fir into the living room.
We get it there and it lies in the middle of the floor hogging space.

I stand back, rub sap off my hands. It’s a healthy big wide tree.
Still rubbing my hands I share the plan: “We’re going to slide the tree into the stand while it’s still on the ground. And then together we’ll lift it. Then while you guys hold it steady, I’ll tighten the screws and we can start decorating.”

It’s a good plan. It should work.

It doesn’t.

The tree’s lower branches won’t let us get the tree stand ring high enough around the trunk to hold the tree upright in the stand. We lower the tree down, screws are loosened with great difficulty (I shouldn’t have been so zealous with the pliers until I knew the tree would fit.)

We’re going to have to cut branches. And of course I don’t have any tools for cutting branches.

In the divorce Daniel get the second house, the Porsche, the new young girlfriend and the old saw we used for things like this.

I should have bought a saw.

“How about scissors?” Jessica suggests.

“Scissors will break,” I answer, sitting on my heels, hearing Nat croon but it’s not helping.

“How about a knife?” William offers.

“Sure.” I’m battling here for warmth and charm.

“Get the bread knife, though. That’s the long one with the serrated edge—“ I see his blank look, break off. “Never mind. I’ll get it.”

One bread knife later, I’m sawing at the slim lower branches that seem to have sprung up all over the tree base. It takes minutes to cut just one. There are at least ten more. My God. This could go on all night….

I’m still sawing away, swearing beneath my breath. I take a rest.

“Mom, let me do it. I can do it. I’m strong.”

“I don’t want you hurt.”

“I won’t get hurt.” He takes the knife from me. “Stand back.”

Stand back. I almost cry. Little boys shouldn’t have to ever take care of their mothers. “You can try, just for a minute,” I say, crouching close by in case he slices off a couple fingers and I have to run fast to get them on ice.

Nothing will go wrong, I tell myself. Why would anything go wrong? This whole tree thing has been a roaring success.

William saws and hacks away at the tree. Carpenters and contractors on home improvement shows would be appalled at our craft skills, but we’re a family, and we hack and saw like a family. “How’s it going?” I ask him.

“Good, Mom.”

Jessica’s crouching close now, too. “My turn.”

“No, Jessica. You’re not going to use the knife.”

“Why not? William is.”

“William’s almost four years older.”

“So?”

“Knives are dangerous—“

“You let him do everything and you don’t let me do anything.”

“You’re right.” I sit back, hands on thighs. “I should have let you get crushed by the tree instead of William. He’s ninety pounds and you’re what? Forty? You can handle it.”

She rolls her eyes at me. “I wouldn’t get crushed. That’s an exaggeration…”

“William, that’s good,” I say, beginning to get uneasy the longer he saws at the tree. I’m just waiting for the knife to slip, fingers to fly, blood spurting. And I’m seriously not good with blood.

Twenty minutes later we’re ready to try to stand the tree again. William and I are holding the tree and trying to shake it all the way down to the bottom of the stand and we can’t get it down no matter how hard we try.

I stand back to see what it looks like while William is buried in the tree, holding it steady. “Maybe it’s okay like this,” he mumbles around a mouthful of pine.
I’m thinking he’s right. It looks straight. Enough.

“Keep holding the tree, and I’ll tighten the screws the rest of the way.” I’ve located a second pair of pliers and with pliers in hand I wiggle on my stomach beneath the tree, heading in face first as if I’m auditioning for the staged version of Desert Storm. Jessica’s crawling in from the other side with her pliers and together we bang and clank on the screws while William shouts encouragements.

“You’ve got it,” he says. “Looks great. I think it’s going to work.”

“Mom, I’ve got this side,” Jessica says.

And finally, sappy and red-faced, I crawl back out. The tree looks okay.

“Are we going to decorate now?” Jess asks, putting the pliers now to bookends, and drawer knobs and anything that protrudes….

Three hours later, the kids are finally in bed and I’m just finishing washing my face when I hear a horrible splintering crash from downstairs. I go cold everywhere and for a second can’t move. I just stand there with a sick icy feeling in my middle and I can see myself in the mirror, puffy shower cap still on my head, traces of foamy soap suds at the hairline, and I know what it is, that thud punctuated by breaking glass.

The tree.

It’s just gone down.

I just got up to check my tree stand after reading that.

OK, my lovlies, I’m giving away two copies of Jane's Flirting with Forty, and Jane's got prizes and Christmas goodies, too! All you’ve got to do is read Jane's story here, and then visit her blog here to read my story, then share your personal christmas disaster story with us on both blogs to enter the giveaway.

You don't have to share your story on both, but if you do, you double your chances for winning! And remember, no story is too weird. You can't spell "dysfunctional" without "F-U-N."

Want to read Jane in French?

2010-12-10T19:16:00.005-06:00

A few months back I posted a short story about Jane Jameson, set after book 3, but before the upcoming book 4. One of my lovely filles, Eden, has translated "Nice Girls Don't Sign a Lease Without a Wedding Ring" into French. Her blog can be found here.

Thanks, Eden!

Fun Interview And Giveaway

2010-12-08T20:34:00.001-06:00

Enter a comment at this blog interview with Yummy Men and Kick Ass Chicks and you could win all three Jane Jameson books!

Click here to view the blog.

Award Nomination

2010-11-22T20:53:00.002-06:00

Hey All,

NICE GIRLS DON'T LIVE FOREVER has been nominated for RT Book Reviews Reviewers Choice 2010 Paranormal Fiction Award.

Phew! That's hard to say.

Kentucky Book Fair

2010-11-11T19:26:00.001-06:00

I will be signing at the KY Book fair, November 13th, 2010 at the Frankfort Convention Center, 405 Mero Street, Frankfort, KY. Hours are 9 to 4:30 p.m. Admission is free.

English Translation of Article in Love Letters

2010-11-10T10:30:00.001-06:00

On Showing Your Characters Who Is Boss:

The problem with people that exist only in your head is that eventually, they become real to you.

I’ve been working with the characters of Half-Moon Hollow longer than I’ve worked with any other “cast” of fictional friends. Vampire librarian Jane Jameson was the first heroine I’ve ever successfully brought to life, and her wacky band of brethren are very dear to me. Each of her friends was designed with a specific task or role in Jane’s life. Hunky sire Gabriel saves Jane from a life half-lived. Her human best friend, Zeb, keeps Jane in touch with her human side. The not-quite-reputable vampire Dick Cheney prevents her from taking herself too seriously.

I can only compare returning to Half-Moon Hollow for each sequel to hanging out with your friends from university. The early times that I spent with them were golden. I was just learning about the publishing world, myself as a writer, and we grew so much together. Years later, sitting down and “talking” with the characters puts me right back in that time and place, and its very easy to fall back into that conversational rhythm. The drawback is that, much like old friends, I spend a little too much time worrying about what they think of me.

I spent days agonizing over the appropriately awful color for the bridesmaids’ dresses in Zeb’s wedding. I wrote and re-wrote a scene in which Jane is injured with vampire pepper spray, because I was afraid I was being too rough with her. I cried for two days when I wrote a central character’s death scene.

And one night, while I was working revisions for the third book, NICE GIRLS DON’T LIVE FOREVER, I dreamt that I was walking into my living room and found Gabriel, Dick and Jane sitting on the couch. They were as I'd always imagined them and they were sitting just a few feet away – looking really irritated with me.

Gabriel cleared his throat and kind of gave the other two this look, as if to say, "Why do I have to be the one to do this sort of thing?" And then he held my hand and explained that we'd all been together for a few years now, and it was "great, really great" in that sad break-up tone of voice. But, he said, now that the third book was finished, they’d all agreed that it was time for the three of them to move on and do other things. Jane, who had become more and more angry during this exchange, exploded and yelled at me for making money off of living vicariously through her and putting her in dangerous, humiliating situations for laughs.

I told them that I still needed them, which seemed to make them happy. But then I added that I needed them because the third book still needed rewrites, which made them angry all over again. Dick yelled that he was going to go work on a vampire project where he would be appreciated and "Good luck with those rewrites when you don't have me around to be your funny dancing monkey-clown anymore!" And they all walked out!

I woke up with tears streaming down my cheeks. It’s at times like this that my husband has to gently remind me, “They’re not real people, sweetheart.”

But they are to me. Authors hurt when their characters hurt. We take joy in their triumphs and mourn when we have to bid them goodbye. And when certain vampires get too full of themselves, sometimes I have to write a scene in which they are trapped in a well while their author and Creator lectures them on respect and appropriate behavior.

I eventually let them out.

German media coverage for Jane Jameson

2010-11-09T21:47:00.003-06:00

OK, so Nice Girls Don't Have Fangs was recently released in Germany as Nette Mädchen beißen nicht.

Recently, Love Letters Magazine, printed a column I wrote called, "Showing Your Characters Who's Boss." I'll post the English translation tomorrow.

I have figured out how to cook a chicken... which for me is an accomplishment

2010-11-07T17:28:00.005-06:00

And while we’re on the subject of Turkey Day, we’re hosting Thanksgiving at our house this year and I’m planning on making the turkey for the first time. I am not a great "main dish" cook, so there have been several small “practice birds” consumed in the last few weeks.

While experimenting, I came up with a pretty decent recipe for chicken and dressing casserole. Since you guys seem to dig recipes, I thought I’d share it.

Chicken and Stuffing

You’ll need:

A whole thawed chicken sized to your family’s appetite (We usually use a five pound bird.)
3 cups celery, chopped
1 yellow onion chopped
1 cup chopped carrots
1 package of thick cut bacon
Three boxes of stovetop cornbread dressing mix
Water and margarine to prepare the dressing mix
Spices (see below)

Preheat the oven to 325. Place your chicken in a large roasting pan. Make sure you remove a giblet bag, if there is one, because that can be gross. Chop the onions, carrots and celery. Save half of the celery and onions, placing them in the fridge. Take the remaining onions, celery and carrots and stuff them into the chicken’s “cavity” ... for lack of a better word.

When it comes to seasoning the chicken, we basically use enough of each spice to dust a light layer over the chicken’s visible skin. We use the following spices: sea salt, rosemary, thyme, sage, garlic powder, smoked paprika, cinnamon and allspice. It sounds weird, but the cinnamon and allspice really sets off the other flavors. Lay strips of bacon over the spices and press them down on the skin.

Place the bird in the oven for at least one hour and twenty minutes. When the bacon has crisped and browned, remove it from the chicken and set aside. We use it for salads or toppings for baked/mashed potatoes.

Place your cutting board on a baking sheet and put that wherever you plan to carve. (Less bird juice run-off during carving.) When the bird is cooked to a safe temperature, as determined by your handy meat thermometer, take the pan out of the oven. Place the rack on the cutting board. Drain the drippings from the pan into a bowl.

When the bird is cool enough to carve, remove as much meat as you can and slice it into manageable chunks. (No skin, no bones, no tendons. Ick.) Remove the veggies from the bird and add them to the drippings.

Prepare the Stove Top according to the box instructions. When it is ready, place it in a large bowl and stir in the chicken, plus the uncooked onions and celery.

Place the drippings and veggies in a food processor and blend until the vegetables are incorporated into the liquid. Pour the blended liquid over the stuffing mixture until it is absorbed.

Place the mixture in a large casserole dish. Place the dish in the oven. Bake at 350 for 45 minutes, until the casserole browns and gets crunchy.

Let stand for five minutes before serving. We tend to serve ours with steamed string beans and bolillos (football shaped rolls.)

The Under-Appreciated Thanksgiving Movie

2010-11-07T11:06:00.002-06:00

With the Halloween schlockfest on TV winding down, I would like to put a good word in for the underappreciated holiday movie: The Thanksgiving movie. Yes, Thanksgiving lacks the glamour of Christmas. There are few “Thanksgiving angels” to pop into your life and help you see the errors of your ways. There are few Thanksgiving miracles. Besides, that goofy looking float in the Macy’s parade, Thanksgiving doesn’t even have a cool mascot.

Now, I know my taste in movies is… somewhat suspect. However, there’s rarely such a thing as a “bad” holiday movie. Except Black Christmas. (Murderous Santa, shudder.) But to support my argument for the little-known Thanksgiving classic, I offer my favorites:

Home for the Holidays – If you’ve never visited family for a holiday and wondered how the hell you ended up related to the people at the table… well, I’d like to spend some time at your house. But poor Holly Hunter has lost her job. Her mother seems to think she’s some sort of rudderless moron. Her sister is smug and condescending. And her older relatives keep telling random, mildly offensive stories that derail her whole day.

Hmmm. Holly Hunter sounds like a human version of Jane Jameson.

Home for the Holidays is one of those movies that shows that yes, your family may be weird, but you love them anyway. At least, on federally recognized holidays.

Planes, Trains and Automobiles – Three words: “Those. Aren’t. Pillows.”

Pieces of April – I usually have a firm “no Katie Holmes” policy, but if any movie will help you appreciate your family, this one will. Poor Katie plays the family screw-up, entrusted to prepare the turkey feast for her unappreciative, dysfunctional family as her mother, Patricia Clarkson, is in the final stages of cancer. It’s rare to find a movie that has you rooting for someone to punch a fictional cancer patient in the face, but Clarkson’s Joy has it coming. I like the message of the film, in that April doesn’t get exactly what she wants, but what she does get is almost better.

Dutch - Who doesn’t like to see Ed O’Neill dancing like a fool and accidentally setting a car on fire with bottle rockets? “Dutch” features a young Ethan Embry as a snotty young Conservative forced to bond with his mother’s blue collar boyfriend on a drive home for Thanksgiving. The story manages to be sentimental without being cloying, funny without being condescending, and has a message without being preachy.

Plus, Christopher McDonald gets a pinky-ring sized dent punched in his forehead. I hate that guy.

My favorite holiday movie ever, has to be “What’s Cooking?” It follows the story of four families of different ethnicities and how they celebrate Thanksgiving. The humor, the poignancy, the accurate portrayal of awkward family moments, and an interesting twist at the end make it a “must-see” as I’m preparing my contribution to the family feasts.

As a subgenre, Thanksgiving TV, I would also like to highlight the “Slapsgiving” episode of “How I Met Your Mother.” Never make a slap-bet, people. And if you do, do not let Lily Aldren be your slap-bet commissioner. If you mess with her holiday feast, she will eff you up.

New Jane stuff

2010-11-05T00:12:00.001-05:00

I've been writing more new Jane material today. Here's my favorite exchange from tonight's work:

"Dick, did you shoot Gabriel in the back with a bow and arrow?"

Dick muttered, “What am I going to get sent to time-out if I did?"

"That’s not really an answer," Gabriel noted.

"No, OK, I didn’t shoot you," Dick shouted. "I was playing Madden on Wii.”

"When did we get a Wii?" I asked.

"This is what’s disturbing to you in this situation?" Gabriel cried. "Unaccounted for gaming equipment?"

"Aren't you glad you didn't turn on the light?"

2010-10-30T20:54:00.006-05:00

In the spirit of Halloween, I thought I'd share one of the most frightening experiences I can remember. Now, I have a higher than healthy number of phobias- clowns, sharks, spiders, failure. And I may, or may not, have seen a swirling dark mass on a stair landing lean toward me while I waited for my study buddy at her creepy off-campus apartment. (I ran like hell and didn't feel bad about it.)

But I think the only time I have been literally paralyzed by fear was my freshman year at Western Kentucky University. The first Scream movie had just come out and for some reason, my friends and I thought it would be brilliant to go see the movie and then tell each other every ghost story we knew, including some that supposedly happened on our campus. Now, my poor friend, Scott, spent the first 15 minutes of Scream with my fingernails buried in his forearm. I saw him today at a WKU Homecoming event and I'm pretty sure those half-moon shaped scars are still on his arm.

By the time we walked out of the movie, I was terrified. I was completely convinced that the Ghostface Killer was hiding behind a tree by my dorm, waiting to eviscerate me. And, sensing my fear like killer bees, my friends started telling me all of the standard campus urban legends:

The girl who used a ouija board in her room and is pulled through her bed by the angry ghost she accidentally summons.

The boy who runs down the hallway after a shower and slips into a open elevator shaft, and now his ghostly wet footprints remain on the floor.

The girl who ignores scratching at her door all night, only to find her friend dead outside her door, having scratched all night, mutely begging for help.

But the one that really stuck with me, was this:

One night, a girl returned to her dorm to find that her roommate was already asleep with the lights off. Trying to be considerate, she undressed in the dark and climbed into bed. The next morning, she woke up to find her door open, her roommate brutally murdered and a message scrawled in her roommate's blood - "Nighty night. Aren't you glad you didn't turn on the light?"

That story freaked me the hell out. Probably because my roommate at the time was a very light sleeper who had difficulty getting into a REM state. She had to have a completely dark room, no TV, no music, no talking, in order to fall asleep. Otherwise, she was a very nice, reasonable girl.

So that night, I come home from the movie and the lights were out. The room was silent. And my roommate was asleep.

I stood at the lightswitch for five minutes, completely unable to move, debating whether it would be worth it to invoke the wrath of my sleeping roommat, turn the light on and make sure there wasn't a psycho-killer lurking in my room with her corpse. I decided to man up, get into my PJs in the dark and get in bed... and then I laid there in the dark, imagining the killer's hand hovering over my chest, waiting to plunge the knife.

I was awake until nearly 4 in the morning.

It took me a few weeks to get over that stupid story. And then, the next semester, I started working at the student newspaper, which meant working until 2 or 3 in the morning some nights. And coming home to a dark, quiet room.

It was a very long semester.

Audio version of AND ONE LAST THING

2010-10-28T18:18:00.003-05:00

Audible.com released AND ONE LAST THING early on Audiobook. You can find it here

THE BIG NEWS: A FOURTH JANE BOOK

2010-10-27T18:45:00.001-05:00

I can finally announce that there will be a fourth Jane Jameson book. The details, such as title and release date, are still being settled.

You may begin squealing.... now.

ANNOUNCEMENT 2: Audiobook News

2010-10-20T20:40:00.002-05:00

My second announcement is that the Audiobook version of AND ONE LAST THING will be released by Audible.com on Nov. 4. The book will be read by Amanda Ronconi, the same voice actress who did the Jane books.

ANNOUNCEMENT 1: Title Change

2010-10-19T19:51:00.007-05:00

OK, I've teased you long enough. My first announcement of the week is that the title and cover for the werewolf romance being released in March has changed to HOW TO SEDUCE A NAKED WEREWOLF.

This is the new cover.

Isn't it cute?

To pre-order, click here

It will be a bit confusing as the old title is still listed on the Amazon page. Also, previous pre-orders still count.

There will be two more announcements this week, which will be increasing in "hugeness." Stay tuned!

BIG NEWS COMING

2010-10-17T23:05:00.001-05:00

I will have three major announcements this week. So keep sharp, follow the blog, and prepare for news.

Interview and Giveaway at Debutante Ball

2010-10-09T09:39:00.001-05:00

Hey All,

I'm finally a debutante! Sort of...

Here's a super-fun interview and giveaway at The Debutante Ball

What I've Learned Watching Bad Horror Movies

2010-10-07T21:26:00.003-05:00

I've confessed here before about my hideous taste in movies. The weeks leading up to Halloween is a veritible buffet of awfulness for viewers like me, who can't seem to get enough schlocky scares. I've learned a lot from these movies about to keep your life interesting, and I thought I should share them here:

-If you are in a graveyard, by all means, go to the creepiest, worst lit and most decrepit part of it to get drunk and mock the dead.

-If you’re on vacation in a strange land and you see a creepy looking artifact, a book bound in human skin or a sacred object the locals fear/worship, be sure to stick it in your pocket and take it home. Oh, and give it to your kids, if you think they might like playing with it.

-Nothing bad ever happens to pretty girls.

-Assume that your loved one - who has been bitten by flesh-eating zombies - is going to be just fine and you should continue to spend time with them.

-If you inherit a mortuary, remote rural motel, or a farm with a questionable number of outbuildings from a distant relative you've never heard of, be sure to move right in.

-Uninhabited islands, defunct summer camps, and abandoned psychiatric facilities are great places to hang out with your friends!!

-And when you’re having a kegger in said islands/camps/nut wards, and your friend comes running out of the woods gibbering hysterically about a monster- ignore them. It's a party! You're there to have fun!

-Oh, and be sure to sneak off and behave in a giddy, sexually irresponsible manner. There’s no way the killer will use you to demonstrate a moral lesson.

-If you are a lovable sidekick to Casper Van Dien, Bill Paxton, Gabriel Byrne, Coren Nemec or Bruce Boxleitner, assume that you will be just fine. There’s no way you’ll be the first death that serves exposition purposes.

-Also if you see Lance Henriksen anywhere in the vicinity… see the above.

Please post your favorite terrible horror movies and the lessons you've learned from them here: