Showing posts with label book. Show all posts
Showing posts with label book. Show all posts

Sunday, September 28, 2014

Interview with Alicia Joseph author of 'Her Name'


Please welcome Alicia to my home away from home.

 

Although I haven’t written lesbian romance, like Alicia does, but I applaud it and support it wholeheartedly.

 

I’ve mentioned it in an article or two but perhaps not here on my blog. I have a transgender/lesbian daughter. My oldest child is transgender female and married to her wife. They have a very beautiful, loving relationship and many transgender and lesbian friends.

 

Thus I welcome Alicia with open arms. I hope you will too. Be sure to read her excerpt below the interview and to check out her book ‘Her Name’.

 

 

Interview with Alicia Joseph

 

1) Why do you write (erotic) romance? I write lesbian romance because I’m a lesbian and I love romance, however, that’s not all I am. I do intend on expanding my writing to different genres, but right now these are the stories I want to tell. I enjoy writing about the love shared between two women because it’s not always easy. I have a few romance novels started and I’d like for them to see the light of day before I move on to something different.

3) Are you aware of any themes that run through your stories? If so, what are they? My book, Her Name, explores the idea of fate versus how much of our own destiny we control. The whole notion of something being “meant to be” is a theme that has carried into a few of my books. It’s a subject I’ve always been intrigued with.

4) What would you like readers to take away from your stories? I’d love for my stories to stay with someone long after they’ve put the book down. To write something that resonates with a reader I think is the ultimate goal of every writer.   

5) What inspires your stories? Everything and anything.  A few years ago I picked up my little nephew from school. I was waiting in my car and watched as one of the mothers walked toward the school doors. She was greeted by a teacher.  They hugged and talked, and appeared to know each other well. So I thought, “What if a married mother fell in love with her child’s female teacher?” That one moment inspired me to write a story based on about fifteen random seconds of my life. Inspiration can come from anywhere. You just have to be open to it. 

8) What is your writing schedule? I don’t have a writing schedule. As long as I write something that day, I don’t care when it is. With Her Name, I did most of my writing between eleven and three am. I don’t know why, but most of my ideas came to me during that time. 

9) Do you have any other passions besides writing? If yes, what are they? Why? I have a passion for animals. I volunteer at a dog shelter and I absolutely love it. No matter how neglected some of these dogs have been, they are so eager to love.  I’m also involved in a group that protests pet stores that sell puppy mill puppies, which is the majority of pet stores. This is definitely a cause I’m willing to put a lot of my time behind because with so many wonderful adoptable puppies and dogs at shelters, we don’t need the cruel and inhumane breeding practice of puppy mills to exist.

11) What is your favorite comfort food?  Pizza

12) What relaxes you? Cuddling with my nephew while watching baseball.

15) What is your favorite way to promote? I use social media to promote my book through Twitter and Facebook, but I’m not obnoxious about it. I keep it polite and respectful because I never want to appear as though I am shoving my book down someone’s throat. But I am proud of this book, so, of course I want to share with as many people as I can.

 

I also have a blog that, admittedly, I need to do a better job at keeping up with, but my favorite way to promote is to get out there and meet people.  Because my book is a lesbian romance, if I’m going to a gay and lesbian event, I’ll bring bookmarks to pass out.  My publishing company, Musa, supplied me with some awesome-looking bookmarks. I love that when I’ve handed them out at past events, by the end of the night, I never see any lying around because they’re just too nice to chuck to the ground.  Having a person keep something with your name on it is so important in promoting yourself.

16) Where is your favorite place to write? Why? Really, I can write anywhere, but I do most of my writing at home. If I’m stuck on something, sometimes a change of scenery does some good. There’s a wonderful park near my house with a small lake. I bring a blanket, my dog, and we sit together.  It’s so serene and peaceful that by the time I leave, my mind is less cluttered and my writing, clearer.

17) What is your favorite fairy tale? Why? Cinderella. My grandma had a Cinderella book at her house that I’d read all the time, but even at a very young age I knew what I was because I’d imagine myself as Prince Charming.

20) If you didn’t write, what would you do instead? I’d hope it’d be something creative.  I love music and so wish I had the talent to do something musically. But if I wasn’t writing, I think I’d be involved in social causes that really help people because like writing, that’s something I have a passion for. 

21) If you could have one wish, what would it be? Wow, with risk of sounding altruistic, it really blows my mind that in 2014 there are people in this world who don’t have access to clean water and spend their days hungry. That is insane to me, so my wish would be that no people would experience thirst or hunger, or suffer from diseases caused by lack of sanitation.

22) If you could describe yourself in only one word, what would it be? Complex.

24) Are you a cat or dog person? Do you have any pets and if so, please tell us about them. I am a dog person. I have a Pit-bull mix named Phil and he is my baby.  I rescued him at Chicago Animal Care and Control. He has become the topic of many of my blogs. He was found as a stray roaming the city streets of Chicago and I often think about what that had to be like for him. It’s hard for me to imagine because I know he had to be scared and I hate to think of that. But he inspires me so much because when I’m struggling with my life, I look at him, and I know that he never gave up. He made it through cold nights alone until someone found him and brought him to the facility, giving him a chance to find a home. Now, as I look at home snuggled on my bed, I know even the worst situations can have a happy ending. 

25) What is the one thing you most want to do that you haven’t yet? I haven’t traveled as much as I want to, so hopefully that’s something I’ll be able to do someday.

27) Please tell us about your most recent release and where we can purchase it. Her Name is about a woman, Madison Andrews, who believes the woman she dreams about is the real love of her life. She dreams of actual moments taken from her real life that were recreated in her dreams to include this woman. The dreams are so vivid that Madison believes they shared a life together and that this woman is her destiny.  She searches for this woman, but will it be too late when she finally finds her? Or will fate take control and force the paths of these two women to interconnect in time for them to spend the rest of their lives together?

 

Her Name is a sweet lesbian love story. You can purchase my book at musapublishing.com

 

You can also find it on Amazon.com, BN.com and Smashwords.com



28) Please give us your urls and your publisher’s url. www.aliciajoseph.com   www.musapublishing.com

 

Thank you, Ms. Ladd, for participating in my blog tour and allowing me to talk about my book. Thank you to everyone who took the time to read this. I hope you enjoy my book.

 

 




Blurb:

Madison Andrews has spent her entire life--unsuccessfully--searching for love. She begins having vivid dreams of the same woman every night, and soon, Madison believes this woman is the love she has been searching for. Madison's dreams become more intense and she realizes the dreams she's having recreate moments taken from actual events from her life--and this woman is there for all of it. Madison searches for her, but how can she find a woman she knows everything about... and yet nothing? She doesn't even know her name.

 

Excerpt:

Now, I laid down my fork and leaned into my seat. I knew she didn’t want to talk about this anymore, but I did. “This all sounds crazy to you, and maybe in the beginning, it was something to joke about, but now, I’m not sure. These pictures were taken directly out of my life, and this woman was in every one of them. You can’t tell me I just dreamed it from memory, because my memory isn’t that good! The photos were identical all the way from the clothes we wore, to the smile on our faces. Hell, even the background was the same! She was the only thing that was different. How could that be?”

I stared at her, waiting for a response as she took it all in.

“Like I said on the phone, I just don’t know what you want me to say. I’m not sure what you’re asking me. Is it weird? Yeah, totally, but I’m no dream expert, and neither are you. Like I said before, maybe it’s your subconscious taking over. I’m sure there’s a logical explanation, and it probably has some fancy scientific name.”

“She’s my wife,” I said flatly. “I saw a picture of us from our wedding, and we looked like we belonged together. We know each other. I mean, really know each other. I wish you could see us together, because you’ve never seen me this way with anyone before.”

“And what way is that?”

“In love,” I answered.

“In love,” Shelly repeated and then pushed herself away from the table. “Well, Maddy, me seeing you with her is something that will never happen. Do you wanna know why that will never happen?”

“I know why you think that will never happen, but that’s where you’re wrong.” I stared at her and said, “I’m just gonna come out and say it. I think she’s real.”

 

Purchase Links:

 


 


 

 

Wednesday, September 17, 2014

The Modern Depression Guide Book by Dylan Brody

Please welcome my extra special guest, Tonight Show joke writer and humorist Dylan Brody. His publicist saw my recent blog about depression and Dylan wanted to add his opinions about this often misunderstood illness.


Be sure to leave comments for Dylan and to check out his book. All proceeds for the month of September will be donated to help those suffering from depression.
 


Interview with Dylan Brody


As a humorist, I genuinely believed that I would be able to write my way out of a deep and difficult depression by mining it for every laugh I could find.  Once I thought of the idea of creating a satirical self-help book, mocking the self-help genre ruthlessly, I was sure I would succeed.  I did NOT write my way out of the depression.   I did come up with this deeply goofy book that promises to help readers get the most out of their depressions, the deepest possible lows, the darkest possible blues. 


I eventually found other tools to battle my depression, but it wasn’t easy and each one seems to have a limited span of usefulness.  For years I self-medicated with marijuana, which I didn’t actually realize until it stopped working.  Then a heavy athletic regimen served me for about fifteen years and eventually that stopped doing the trick and the depression re-emerged.  Now I’m medicated, but I remain hyper alert for resistance to the medication or changes in my chemical and emotional balance.  It has been thrilling and a great relief to learn that I can be funny and creative and productive without being a miserable ass all the time.  (I might still be an ass.  But I’m not always miserable)


    


 


Did writing “The Modern Depression Guide” help you? Did it lift your mood since you wrote it on the sarcastic side?


Writing the book did not particularly help me, but it did give me the opportunity to really examine and explore the cycles and spirals of my depression in ways that I hadn’t before.  It’s also led me to a marvelous screenplay by the same title and it always cheers me up to have another project to shop around.  In truth, I have become to feel a bit like a fraud.  When I wrote the book, I still genuinely believed at some level that depression was a necessary part of the human condition, that it was definitely integral to my creative process.  That’s part of the reason that I took the stance, ironic as it was, that produced the book.  Since then I’ve found a way out of the depression for decades.  Now I just hope the book can serve to help open up a much needed conversation about depression and mental health in general.  The only real way to explore taboo or uncomfortable intellectual territory is with the light – and the lightness – of humor.


 


Have you ever dove into a bag of Chips Ahoy or other snack, or (gulp) like me, packed on a bunch of weight because of a depressive episode?


Quite the opposite, actually.  When I was really depressed, I think I used to eat way less and lose weight.  One of the side effects of my current medication is weight gain.  Also, difficulty reaching orgasm.  It’s hard to believe that with side effects like those, the stuff could cheer anyone up at all.  It does though.  It’s sort of a chemical miracle. 


 


Have any of your friends or family or employers been alienated because of your depression? Or if not quite alienated, what kinds of problems have you had with them?


Oh, I suspect I alienated any number of people during my years as a serious depressive.  There were a lot of club owners who didn’t want me back as a comic after I worked for them and I had all sorts of paranoid fantasies about why that might be.  It never occurred to me that it might just be because I was snarky and critical and mean and no fun to be around.  The more depressed I get, the more I blurt out hurtful things thinking they’ll be funny.


When I went into therapy in ’93 or ’94 it was because my wife couldn’t take it anymore.  She said, “You have to talk to someone.  You’re absorbing all the light in the apartment.”


 


Does depression run in your family and if so, who else suffers from it?


My father suffers from depression, though I don’t think he recognizes it.  I think he believes his frequent, deep sadness is simply the proper experience of the human condition.  I suspect it was from him that I learned a lot of my coping mechanisms over the years.  The very attitudes that make the book’s point of view funny, I think, are attitudes I learned from my father.


 


Has your depression ever been so bad that you were suicidal? If so, would you like to share your survival story?


I’ve certainly thought about suicide.  I’ve never attempted it.  Career suicide, yes.  Actual existential suicide, no.  I allow myself the room for suicidal ideation as a sort of creative exercise, a dark outlet.  I don’t judge myself too harshly for things that I think.  I have no intention of ever taking any real action in that regard.


 


Do you see a doctor for your illness and do you take medication? If do, do you feel this helps? What other things help you to manage your depression?


I think I’ve already answered this, but yes.  I’m currently on Paxil which seems to work very, very well for me.  Martial Arts training was incredibly important as I started to find my way out of the combined troubles of depression and a pot-haze that no longer cheered me at all.  For about ten years the Martial Arts training alone staved off the depression and, as I understand it, for some people athletic activity on a regular basis is enough to keep depression in check for ever.  (My father works out every day and I suspect this is one of the reasons)  I go in and out of therapy, calling for tune-up sessions when the darkness starts to close in.


 


What age old purpose do you think depression serves?


I think the idea that depression serves a purpose is one of the lies that depression tells us.  It tells us that without it we would not be aware of injustice or we would not have creative inspiration or we would not strive to improve our own lots or society.  When I’m depressed I start to believe these lies.  When I’m not depressed it becomes clear that not only am I still inspired, creative, conscience-driven, conscientious and ambitious, I am also better able to take action  to create, to express, to improve my self and my world.


The idea that everything we feel must serve a purpose, must be intended to teach us something is sort of a weird post-hoc justification for a chemical event.


 


Do you have someone who is supportive of your depression? How do they show their support? How would you like them to show their support?


I don’t want anyone to be supportive of my depression.  I want people to be supportive of me as a battle the depression.  Over the years I’ve known many who were the former, rather than the latter.  There are a lot of people who are most comfortable when those with whom they commiserate remain as depressed as they.  I try not to hang out with those people.  Some of them do it with subtle digs at one’s accomplishments or one’s appearance.  Others offer lengthy diatribes on the injustices of the world with no mention of solution, only hopelessness.


My wife is tremendously supportive of me in my struggles with depression.  She has struggles of her own and I strive to be supportive of her in those.


I also have a circle of good friends who let me hang out with them even when I feel quiet and not at all funny, who forgive me when I get all snarkilicious or douchey.  Sometimes I need that, just to be around people who I know will not hate me if I feel unlovable.


 


Do you slip into depressive episodes often? Do yours tend to last a long time? How do they manifest? Do you cry a lot? Sleep too much? Miss a lot of work? Hide in your house? Cancel dates with friends and family? Hide in the closet or under your blanket?


The episodes don’t happen as often as they used to.  They used to hit me once or twice a year and last a few weeks to a few months.  Generally I would sleep a lot and avoid people.  I would stop showering and shaving.   I would hate everything I wrote and see only the flaws in anything I did.  It’s been a while since I’ve gone through a bad one like that.


 


Has anyone accused you of looking for sympathy or of being lazy when you were depressed?


Do you mean anyone other than me?  ‘cause I accuse myself of both of those things constantly, depressed or not.


 


Have you lost anyone (spouse, partner, girlfriend/boyfriend, friend) due to your depression? If so, would you like to share about it?


Oh, yeah.  I spent years on the road as a comic.  I’ve known a lot of great people who have given in to depression and taken their own lives either actively through suicide or passively through drug or alcohol use.  My best friend from the time I was in college committed suicide shortly after I moved to Los Angeles in 1986.  For years I blamed myself, thinking that I should have been able to hear on the phone that something was wrong, that I should have been able to save him somehow.  A couple of years ago I talked to his widow and found out that he had been bipolar, that there was genuinely nothing I could have done, nothing I would have even been equipped to do had I known.  It was an enormous relief for me, after all those years, to be able to let go of my self-blame over that.  Yeah.  I’ve lost people.  I’ve lost way too many people.  Thanks for asking.  Now I’m all bummed out.


 


Have you or do you ever self medicate or abuse substances because of your depression?


I smoked cigarettes for years.  Have I mentioned marijuana?  I’m pretty sure I mentioned marijuana.  It was a huge part of my life for years.  When I finally stopped smoking pot and was in therapy, my therapist said that I was lucky I had found marijuana, that the self-medication had probably kept me from being suicidal through college and the years afterward that I smoked.  Also lucky that, when it stopped working I had someone around to say, “you need help.  Something’s wrong.”  Also lucky that I didn’t find heroin or crack or some other drug to self-medicate with that would have been far more destructive and far more difficult to kick when it became more of a hindrance than a help.


 


What is your favorite comfort food(s)?


I really don’t eat any of my favorite comfort foods any more.  The damn Paxil weight.  Any weight I put on is nearly impossible to get rid of.  Man, I used to love Haagen Dazs chocolate and peanut butter ice cream, though.


 


Please share with us your basic depression(and other) exercises and how they work (or don’t work).


Do you mean from the book?  If you want to improve your self-loathing, the best one I’ve found is this:  You list your greatest accomplishments.  (If you can’t think of any, you win)  Then think about what your parents would say about those accomplishments.  Think about what your fourteen year-old self would have thought of an adult who listed those as his/her greatest accomplishments.  Think about how long it’s been since you accomplished them and how unlikely it is that you will ever top them.  Ever.  This should get you a little more unhappy than you were before you started.


 


What depresses you the most? Why? Or does everything and anything depress you during a depressive episode?


During an episode, everything is seen through a depressive lens. Puppies will get old, develop hip dysplasia and then die.  After years of pain.  The success of my enemies depresses me and is proof of an unjust world.  The success of my friends fills me with envy and is proof that I am a rapacious jerk.  My own success is proof only that the world doesn’t have the basic sense to spot a fraud when it sees one.  This is the chemical nature of depression.  It’s not about facts or events, it is about perception.


 


What is your opinion about Robin Williams and his recent suicide?


Mr. Williams’ suicide made me sad, but I certainly don’t judge him harshly for it.  I liked the world more when he was alive, but if someone’s pain is stronger than his/her natural survival instinct, if death seems to a person to be the only possible escape, I cannot put a moral judgment on that.  I think life and death are always very personal choices.  I have no opinion about his suicide, I have only feelings and those are mine to deal with and not his responsibility or anybody else’s.


Has anyone thanked you for writing your book and helping them? (Besides me – I’m thank you right now – thank you!)


I’ve gotten some lovely e-mails from people telling me that the book helped them.  That it helps anyone is enormously gratifying.  Not as gratifying as royalty checks, but – aw, who’m I kidding?  The e-mails are way more gratifying than the checks.  Because the checks aren’t really that big.


(All my royalties from this book for the month of September are going to MIND, a UK-based charity dedicated to mental health and depression research)


 


Please share an excerpt from your fantastic book.


The book is fairly short and the self-loathing exercise I offered above is in there somewhere in some form, so an excerpt now seems excessive.  I will say that I’m pretty sure I use the words, “of”, “because”, and “down” several times.  Aw, what the hell.  I’m giving away the September royalties anyway.


 


Excerpt:


From the Preface: Like millions of other Americans I sometimes get depressed. This happens frequently enough that I am getting quite good at it. My mood can swing like Diana Krall


on a three-martini lunch. On a bright day when everything is going well for me I can find the hidden source of sorrow, the magic trigger and... Voila! The bleakness of


the world comes clear to me and once more I am depressed.


Through years of experience I have developed -- or observed myself to be practicing -- certain straightforward techniques to help a momentary sadness build upon


itself, resonating and reverberating like feedback, doubling and redoubling down the corridors of my empty little life until, at last, I am comfortably ensconced in my


apartment, using up my sick days to watch LITTLE HOUSE ON THE PRAIRIE with my cat who has made it very clear that he will not be coming near enough to


comfort me until I take a shower.


With this book, I hope to share some of my hard-won expertise with others who may seek to improve their skills in experiencing, maintaining and utilizing a


depression.


Whether you are a one-time depression-sufferer due to a painful break-up or a chronic depressive whose sadness recurs regularly, there is no excuse for not putting


time and effort into getting the lowest possible lows out of your moments of despair. Here is where this Guidebook comes in.


With useful exercises to help you improve your sense of self-loathing, easy-access listings of worldly injustices to ponder and helpful hints on how to break your


personal hygiene habit, this book is sure to have your mood spiraling downward like Larry Flynt at the Guggenheim.


But depth is not all there is to a depression. A depression must also be valued for its duration. In order to ensure that a bout of melancholia lasts a good long while,


attention must be paid to detail in the vital settling-in period. If you stick with the program, follow the simple, step-by step instructions in this book, cut your personal


productivity and increase your TV-watching time sufficiently, I can personally promise that you will see no mood brighten before its time.


BUY LINKS:


 






Saturday, September 13, 2014

Blog Tour: Must Love Breeches by Angela Quarles


Please welcome Angela Quarles to my cyber home today. She has the most awesome author photo I’ve ever seen. Of course, I’m a big time cat lover. J You’ve got to check it out – after you check out her book of course.

 

MUST LOVE BREECHES

By Angela Quarles

 


Book Info


Must Love Breeches
Time Travel Romance
Release Date: Sep 3 2014
Length: Novel (98,000 words)
Ebook Price: $4.99 (Pre-order price $3.99)
ISBN: 978-0-9905400-0-7
Content advisory: Adult language, explicit sex

 


Blurb


She's finally met the man of her dreams. There's only one problem: he lives in a different century.

 

"A fresh, charming new voice" – New York Times bestselling author Tessa Dare

 

HOW FAR WOULD YOU TRAVEL FOR LOVE?

 

A mysterious artifact zaps Isabelle Rochon to pre-Victorian England, but before she understands the card case’s significance a thief steals it. Now she must find the artifact, navigate the pitfalls of a stiffly polite London, keep her time-traveling origins a secret, and resist her growing attraction to Lord Montagu, the Vicious Viscount so hot, he curls her toes.

 

To Lord Montagu nothing makes more sense than keeping his distance from the strange but lovely Colonial. However, when his scheme for revenge reaches a stalemate, he convinces Isabelle to masquerade as his fiancée. What he did not bargain on is being drawn to her intellectually as well as physically.

 

Lord Montagu’s now constant presence overthrows her equilibrium and her common sense. Isabelle thought all she wanted was to return home, but as passion flares between them, she must decide when her true home—as well as her heart—lies.

 

Excerpt


A reenactment ball was the perfect setting for romance. Or not.

Isabelle Rochon fidgeted in her oddly-shaped-but-oh-so-accurate ball gown, surrounded by women who’d sacrificed historical authenticity for sex appeal. Red carpet ball gowns in the nineteenth century, really? Once again she was like the dorky kid participating in dress-up day at school when everyone else had magically decided it was lame.

“Gah. I feel like a green robot with strange battle armor.” Isabelle pointed to her dark green dress, the shoulders flaring out almost to a point, exaggerating their width. “What were the fashionistas in 1834 thinking?”

“I have no bloody idea.” Jocelyn squeezed the poof of fabric at her shoulder. “These huge-ass sleeves are ridiculous.”

“Ah, screw it, we’re having fun, right? I’m not going to self-sabotage the ball. Not after all the time I spent obsessing over my costume.”

“And obsessing over the etiquette rules.”

“That too.” Besides, how fun was it to learn Jocelyn shared her obsession with guys in period clothes and bodice-ripper romances?

Isabelle eyed a guy strolling past in tight-fitting, buff-colored pantaloons. She pitched her voice to be heard over the string quartet. “Hmm. How about the clothes on that daring derriere?”

Jocelyn sucked on her olive and plopped the empty stir stick into her martini. “Oh, yes. Definitely a breech-ripper.”

Isabelle choked on her Bellini, the champagne fizz tickling her throat and nose. This was the first opportunity they’d had to socialize outside work, so she treated this moment delicately, afraid to puncture the mood. No need to point out he sported pantaloons, not breeches.

She should ease up on the drink, though. She didn’t want to get plastered at the Thirty-fourth Annual Prancing Through History Reenactment Ball. Especially since her new colleagues would be around. And her boss. She needed to impress him.

“Look lively,” Jocelyn said, her voice low, with a dollop of teasing. “Here comes the office hottie.”

She’d been cultivating a mild crush on Andrew since starting her new job at the British Museum six months ago. The whole situation was perfect. A guy in the same field would respect her interests, wouldn’t expect her to give up her profession for a relationship. He was safe. If it worked out, great, if not, no biggie. She was happy, finally, with how her life was working out.

She’d pictured him in period clothing before, looking resplendent.

He did.

“Hi, Andrew.” Her voice came out a little too high. Jeez, could she sound any more like a lovesick fool? She always did this around gorgeous men—went ga-ga as if she couldn’t rub two brain cells together. She gazed around the Duke of Chelmsford’s newly renovated ballroom and pretended as if her breath hadn’t quickened and her body hadn’t heated at the sight of Andrew.

“Hello, Isabelle. Jocelyn.” Andrew nodded. His smile felt like a gift for her alone.

Her pulse throbbed. He’d sought her out. Play it cool. Say something witty. “So, uh, having fun yet?” Having fun yet?

Something, or someone, in the crowd hogged his attention. She followed his gaze until she found it. Or rather him. Their boss at the bar.

Andrew faced her and the remnants of calculation on his hot-as-heck features disappeared behind his over-bright grin.

He leaned closer.

The artificial tang of his cologne drifted her way. She wrinkled her nose.

“Well done on the Whittaker exhibit. Finding that journal was a bit of a coup. It’ll be a fine addition to the exhibit, once it’s built.”

He’d noticed. She’d worked damn hard. “Thank you.” Why couldn’t Brits find her Southern accent as sexy as she found theirs?

“Glad you came across the pond to work with us. That find should put you in the running for the promotion.”

Good. The promotion would mean she could stay in London. Well, it would make staying easier. No matter what, she was determined to remain.

“Of course, you’ll have to beat me out.”

Cold clarity hit her stomach like accidentally gulping a glass of iced gin instead of iced water, jolting her from her usual foray into Incoherent Land around attractive guys. “You’re applying too?” Of course he was.

“Without a doubt. Career changer and all. I’m a shoo-in. Sure you still want to apply?”

Could she scrub the smug look off his face? She settled for the less satisfactory, but more controlled, “Yes.”

Now catching her boss’s attention was more important than ever. Besides wanting to escape into another era, she’d also hoped her costume would impress him. She glanced at the wet bar. Drat. Where had her boss gone?

Andrew slipped his hand around her elbow, pulling her closer. “How about we ditch this party and grab a pint? You and me.” He ignored Jocelyn, who stared back and forth between them.

It all made sense—his sudden interest after dismissing her for months, the calculation she’d caught when he’d turned back—he thought he’d intimidate and charm her into giving up the position.

She yanked her arm free, saying, “Fat chance, you smarmy horndog,” which cut through the room because, of course, the music had just ended.

Jocelyn snorted her drink, eyes watering, and coughed, fighting to catch her breath. For a moment, her coughing was the only sound punctuating the silence.

The curious eyes of the onlookers made Isabelle feel as if a huge moat had sprung up around her. The moat of Beware, All Ye Who Enter—Idiot in the Center. If one of those eyes were her boss…

Andrew trotted out his grin, the one that used to make her insides hum. “Thought we had a connection. No?” He backed away, hands up, eyes locked with hers in a you’re-such-a-fool stare, his heels snapping on the marble floor with each backward step. “Cheers, then, babe. May the best man win.” He nodded and sauntered off.

Jocelyn, bless her, completely ignored the Moat of Embarrassment and stepped to Isabelle’s side. “How had we never noticed what an ass he was?”

“Probably because we were too busy drooling?”

“There is that.”

“Seriously, I should just go pound my head against the nearest vertical object and repeat one hundred times, ‘When will I learn?’”

“Just be careful not to poke out your eye with those lethal shoulder sleeves.”

“Ha.” But Jocelyn’s dry humor softened Isabelle’s mood. “Can’t believe he expects me to just roll over. I have to get the promotion, I need the security. No way am I going to sacrifice my dream to be with a guy, I don’t care how hot he is.”

Never again would she let a jerk encased in good-looking skin influence her life. Been there. Done that. Have the gold-stitched Fool’s cap.

 

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Bio


Angela is a geek girl romance writer. What makes her romances geeky? Whether it's fan girling over Ada Lovelace by having her as a secondary character in Must Love Breeches, or outright geek references with geek types in her romantic comedy with paranormal elements, Beer and Groping in Las Vegas, or going all Southern steampunk in Steam Me Up, Rawley, she likes to have fun with her romances and hopes her readers do too.

 

Angela works at an independent bookstore and lives in an historic house in the beautiful and quirky town of Mobile, AL. When she's not writing, she enjoys the usual stuff like gardening, reading, hanging out, eating, drinking, chasing squirrels out of the walls and creating the occasional knitted scarf. She's had a varied career, including website programming and directing a small local history museum, and has discovered that writing allows her to explore all her interests.

 

She's an admitted geek and is proud to be among the few but mighty Browncoats who watched Firefly the first night it aired. She was introduced to the wonderful world of science fiction by her father, by way of watching reruns of the original Star Trek in her tweens and later giving her a copy of Walter M. Miller Jr's A Canticle for Leibowitz as a teenager. She hasn't looked back since.

 

She has a B.A. in Anthropology and International Studies with a minor in German from Emory University, and a Masters in Heritage Preservation from Georgia State University. She was an exchange student to Finland in high school and studied abroad in Vienna one summer in college.

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