Monday Mayhem – I’ve been up, down, all around…

I’ve been feeling completely unmotivated lately.

For most of this year, actually.

At first, I didn’t worry about it too much. I’d finished another NaNoWriMo in November. December had been its usual whirlwind, but with the special added bonus of a software conversion and move at the day job. Then January came, and I ran out of patience with the life I’d been living. Cue another big life change…

Is it possible I used up whatever motivation I had focusing on getting out of one day job and into the new one? Because, I don’t seem to have anything left for the writing. I’m even writing this blog post late because I am so daunted by the thought of facing this damn blinking cursor that I will do endless loads of laundry to avoid it.

It’s a phase, I know.

At least, that’s what I tell myself.

I can’t leave all those plot bunnies lingering in their hutch indefinitely. Something’s going to start to stink in there.

Every author knows the ebb and flow. Some stories pour out like water. Most are prized out with pliers. Genre fiction writers have been on a roller coaster ride for the last half-decade. As the authors who drive most of the revenue in the industry, we’ve been expected to produce more, faster, better, and cheaper than ever before. And we’ve answered the call…but at what expense?

My first book was published in 2011. Next week, my 33rd (A BOLT FROM THE BLUE) will hit the digital bookshelves. Crazy, huh? I’ve written and sold 33 novels and novellas in 6 years. Numbers 34-37 are already written and awaiting editorial. I’m scheduled for release through number 38 in the fall of 2018.

I should be riding high, right? I ought to be psyched. But mostly, I just feel tired. Like Madeline Kahn in Blazing Saddles tired.

This weekend, Fodder and I hit the flea markets and excavated some awesome old albums. I came home with this fabulous Barry Manilow double album. And while Sally may not appreciate my rendition of Weekend in New England, I totally understood where Barry was coming from when he sang about Tryin’ to Get the Feeling Again.

There are times when I worry that I’ve fallen out of love with writing. Moments when I wonder if I could just walk away from it—leave all those bunnies in the hutch to battle it out until all that’s left is one single killer rabbit of a story with nasty, pointed teeth living in a deep, dark cave.

But I won’t. I can’t. So, I’m still meditating every night. I started doing yoga again. Mainlined Grace & Frankie season 3. And, hey, look—I just wrote a 500 word blog post whining about not wanting to write.

I just…need to find a way to get my storytelling groove back. I’m hoping the Herb Alpert and the Tijuana Brass album I scored for $2 will help.

 

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Monday Mayhem – March Madness

No, I’m not talking basketball, though, I can, I will and I do. I’m talking about the week we just had around here.

Did I tell you we had tickets to so The Phantom of the Opera this week?

I’ve seen it 5 or 6 times in Chicago and St. Louis, but this is the first time it made it to Little Rock. I made Fodder order the tickets the day they went on sale in November. We chose the Thursday, March 16th show because there were some primo orchestra center seats that would have put us near the chandelier. Since it was the man’s first time to see it live, I really wanted to see his face when the Overture started.

The best laid plans of grandparents…

Our daughter was pregnant with her 2nd, and due March 19th, so for five months, I’ve been telling her to keep her knees locked together on March 16th.

Of course, the phone rang at 5am Thursday morning. Needless to say, we missed the show,  but look what we got!

Yeah, a pretty good trade, I’d say. We also got to spend a few days with my little Stinker while mommy and daddy got that whole baby brother thing sorted out. Fun and fruit snacks were had by all!

And never fear…we’ll have another shot at Phantom when it swings back around to Memphis later this year. In the meantime, I need to get back on track. And I will. Right after I finish kissing all the sugar off this baby.  🙂

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Monday Mayhem – Whoops!

Whoa! Life got me.

Yesterday, we hosted a party for our grandson’s 4th birthday, and we were so worn out at the end of it I completely forgot to post!

I hope this bit-o-cuteness makes up for my inattentive behavior. I’ll be better next week!

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Monday Mayhem – Another first

I had my first day at the new job this week. I think I’ll let this picture speak for itself.

No, the fountain is not in my office.

Yes, it is free.

No, I haven’t figured out how to get my mouth under there without getting a Coke Zero in my eye, but hey, dreams do come true!

Rather than bore you with the details of the first week on the job, I thought we’d play a little game of firsts, then I’d introduce you to an author who is celebrating her first release this week!

**giveaway alert**

Thanks to all who chimed in last week. Congratulations, Michelle Kelly, I’ll be sending a signed copy of LOVE & ROCKETS out to you!

This week, play along and I’ll give one winner the choice of any book from my Maggie Wells digital backlist, or a signed print copy of the first book I ever wrote, CONTENTMENT. 

Here are the questions and my answers. Copy and paste into the comments, then replace my answers with yours. Ready?

  1. First job with a paycheck: Mr. Quick Hamburgers – my uniform was brown double-knit polyester.
  2. First celebrity crush: I think Donny Osmond edged Barry Manilow out as the first, but it was close.
  3. Title of the first book you remember choosing for yourself: ARE YOU THERE GOD? IT’S ME, MARGARET. I’ll let you guess why I picked it.
  4. Your first set of car keys unlocked a: 1976 Ford LTD Country Squire station wagon.
  5. First album you bought with your own money: Queen – A Night at the Opera
  6. First thing you eat most mornings: Yogurt
  7. How old were you the first time you got drunk/tipsy: 18-ish. I was a freshman in college, so I may have still been 17.
  8. Where did you have your first kiss: In the back of the Musicland store at College Hills Mall.
  9. The name of your first pet or first furry friend: We had toy poodles when I was born. Sisters named May and Gay. Sweet girls.
  10. The first street you lived on was: Washington

****

Tomorrow, one of my fellow Kensington/Lyrical authors, Kari Lemor, will know the thrill of seeing her work out there in the world. Hard to top that for a first… Please take a moment to check out this bit from WILD CARD UNDERCOVER. Congratulations, Kari!

All that glitters in Miami is not gold . . .

Lured in by a bad ex-boyfriend and the moonlight of Miami, Meg O’Hara is trapped in a nightmare situation, waiting tables for a crime boss and fearing for her life. When undercover FBI agent Christopher Shaunessy offers her a way out, she seizes it. Getting the goods on Salazar Moreno might not be easy, but she’ll do anything to be freed from her servitude and Moreno’s sexual advances, even if it means moving in with the charismatic agent.

Chris Shaunessy pretends to be Meg’s lover in order to keep her safe, but he steels his heart against further involvement. Passion has no place in the sordid world of organized crime. And yet, the closer they get to cracking the case, the stronger his feelings for the spirited waitress shine. It’s a dangerous game he’s playing, and taking Meg in his arms for real could prove a fatal misstep . . .

Excerpt:

“Does that man never have a day off?” Margaret Kathleen O’Hara grumbled, grabbing her tote bag and sarong to move surreptitiously along the chairs by the pool. If the hotel manager saw her here again she’d be toast. He’d more than toss her out. Threats to call the police had been thrown at her for months now. Although in her case, that might be a better deal.

With her eyes trained on his location and the Miami sun beating down on her exposed skin, Meg backed along the water’s edge attempting to leave the area before he spotted her. She needed to shower the chlorine out of her tangled hair and change for work soon. He looked in her direction and she rushed behind the closest object. It was six-foot-plus of blond-haired gorgeousness. The man’s eyes were glued to something on the upper deck. Her boss was sitting there with one of his expensive bimbos. Did Blondie like that type? Maybe he wouldn’t notice her little game of .

She leaned around him, ducking back when she saw the Pool Nazi still present. Getting caught was not an option. She already owed more than she could ever repay.

“Are you okay?” Forest green eyes stared down at her, puzzled. Would he buy that she was simply looking for shade? He was big enough to provide it.

With strong hands, he reached for her shoulders and Meg reflexively batted them away. She got enough of people groping her at work. Scorching curses froze before erupting from her mouth as the hotel manager moved, staring in their direction. Her mind kicked into overdrive, scrambling for a way to hide in plain sight.

“Sorry,” she squeaked. Grabbing the man’s head, she planted her mouth solidly on his. Short, thick strands of hair tickled her fingers. Firm lips yielded no resistance to the increased pressure of her mouth. Better make this look good.

An electric current skittered over her skin causing her heart to race. Maybe too good? Slowly he pulled her closer with his muscular arms. Her eyes flew open and she broke the connection. His hair-covered chest was too close for comfort. And much too tempting. Distance, she needed distance.

Her eyes darted around, seeing no signs of the manager. A sigh escaped. Time to make her exit as well.

“Sorry,” she mumbled again, looking up. Big mistake. The stranger’s curious eyes captivated her. They were soft and tender and filled with something she could…trust? If she still had any of that left in her. His hands were gentle as they held her. A tiny smile played about the full lips she’d brazenly kissed. She couldn’t believe she’d done it. Her mother would be appalled. But it had worked.

The chlorine scent from the pool faded into the background as sweat and suntan lotion wafted off the man’s damp skin. Her stomach did cartwheels followed by a few back flips. Dangerous.

“Let me go,” she hissed as reality returned. She gave a swift shove at his well-defined pectorals, rushing to get past, to escape from this distraction and the possibility of being caught. Her head whipped around at the sound of a splash and water droplets from behind. Gorgeous was just breaking the surface of the pool. Had she pushed him that hard?

“Oops.” No time for apologies. He looked like the forgiving type. She had to blow this joint before the Pool Nazi came back. Grabbing her fallen sarong, she ran across the deck to hustle inside the luxury hotel.

“Damn.”

The manager stood sentry near the front door. A crowd appeared at her back making that way impossible. The stairwell to the left would have to do. She’d go up a few floors then down to the side entrance. She wrapped her sarong around her as she carried out her plan to avoid being seen…and caught.

Meg should stop coming here to use the pool: this proved it. Sneaking in was adding to her already hellish life but swimming always helped work out the stress and the pool here was more accessible than any other on the strip. Pretending she had money to stay in a place like this, rubbing elbows with all the beautiful people, yeah, that got her through too. She’d learned the best times to come and not be seen. Well, for the most part. It was well worth the risk to get away from her dump of a room and its enchanting neighborhood. She’d leave this all behind her soon. She kept telling herself that. Had to believe it for her own sanity.

Footsteps behind her pushed those thoughts away. Her bare feet padded silently along the lushly carpeted hallway. Heart racing, she ducked into the ice machine alcove, her sigh echoing in the silence. She glanced down. Her bag? She must have dropped it as she rushed off. How had she not realized? It couldn’t have been the threat of being arrested. Or the crooked smile of the handsome stranger she’d kissed. The one with the kind eyes and gentle hands. No, she couldn’t allow herself to be led astray by a pretty face. Not again.

She continued down the hall, her trip cut short when someone grabbed her by the arm and spun her around.

* * * *

Buy it now!

Follow Kari Lemor on her website:  http://www.karilemor.com/

FaceBook: https://www.facebook.com/Karilemorauthor/

Twitter:  https://twitter.com/karilemor

Pinterest:  https://www.pinterest.com/karilemor/

Good reads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/9756283.Kari_Lemor

 

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