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January 18, 2018

Handbag and Book: Oldies but Goodies. @VickiBatman #readromance #RLFblog #MFRWauthors

At age fourteen, my mom introduced me to romance books. On our summer breaks, she took us to the library. Our reads had to last two weeks and then she would take us back. I was such a fast reader. I read mine, sometimes twice, and sometimes, my sisters’ books too.

One day, I was totally bored. Nothing new to read. So I asked Mom if we could go to the library, a day off from our regular schedule. She firmed her lips and gave me an interesting look. Then she reached for her handbag, stashed on a shelf in a built-in bookcase. She pushed a small paperback in my hands and said, “Read this.”

On the front was a picture of a couple, a dark-headed girl turned away from a man with brown hair wearing a suit. The author’s name was Emilie Loring. I flipped the book over and read the back cover blurb. Hmmm, I thought, and went to my room where I plopped on my bed and began.
I was captivated. A few hours later, I said to Mom, “Finished. Can I read another?”

Every week, my mom met her three sisters at my grandmother’s house where they shared everything, sewed, crafted, ate lunch. At those times, one aunt passed on the books. I had to wait for the weekly meeting before I could get a new one to read. So I read it twice.
Before Christmas this past year, I decided to read all of Emilie’s work in order of publication. The first one was The Trail of Conflict from 1922. The last was The Shining Years from 1972. About the first half of the books were written by Emilie, and the second half were partially ghostwritten. The heroines were usually in their early twenties and the heroes were older. Some of the men were politicians, ministers, business owners, secret agents, ranchers, military guys. Together, they flushed out the bad guys. Emilie’s descriptions of food, scenery, and clothing drew glorious pictures in my mind and of course, a happy ever after.

And that’s when I fell in love with romance. What is the book you’ve never forgotten?
Romance + Fun + Mystery = a good story! Have you tried these:
 Amazon Author Central

January 2, 2018

Michelle Miles: Dream Big

Oh, hello, there. It’s 2018.

Last year was trying in a lot of ways for lots of people including me. I had a lot of changes on the job front and the home front. But that’s all in the past and I’m ready to move forward in the new year.

I wrote a lot in 2017 but some of it hasn’t made it to publication yet. I finished three novels, one a major revision, one new and as-yet unpublished and one published and for sale (On the Hunt for the Wizard King).

I’ve made some career decisions for 2018 regarding the books and have decided to phase out all the contemporary romances on January 20. They’ll be gone and permanent out of print. I may do something with them someday, but for now, they’re all going away. It wasn’t an easy decision, but the more I thought about it, the more I realized those books are not really part of my brand anymore.

I want to focus on writing the things that inspire me. The things I get excited about when I sit down at the keyboard and face the page. Life is too short to write books I don’t want to write. I refuse to write to the market and I refuse to write things just to make a buck.

Does that mean I’ll be able to replace my income with royalties from my books? Probably not. But you know what? That’s okay. I will be at peace knowing I’ve published books I’m passionate about and that I’m proud of. That’s my writing dream. Of course, I’d love to make millions, write full time, see my books hit a list and/or made into movies. There’s still a chance all that could happen. ;)

This year, I want to finish my 5-book urban fantasy series, revise and re-release two books from my backlist and publish a new paranormal fantasy. This year, I want to produce stories that make people want to read again, that ignite the imagination, that entertain, that make them forget about a world that can be cruel and ugly at times. To give them an escape. To give them adventure.

This year, I want to work on other non-writing projects that include paying off debt and decluttering my house.

This year, I want to celebrate little milestones and look forward to big ones.

This year, I’m not going to worry about turning another year older or worrying about what other people are doing. I’m going to focus on me, what I’m doing and how to do it better than I have before.

This year, I will dream big.

This is how I want to celebrate and live throughout 2018.

How about you?

December 21, 2017

Do I write 24/7? No way. #crafting #writinglife #hobbies


Would it surprise you to know, I don't write all day, every day. I'm a 9:30 to 4:30 writer. I have tons of stuff to do around my house and have to squeeze it in-today is fix the washer day; tomorrow is a new plumber coming to fix the dripping pipes under my master sink; somewhere in there is the a/c man to figure out why there is weird programming on my Nest thermostat.
I have other things to do too, like reading!! And I'm embroidering on a needlepoint pillow and a 12 days of Christmas lap blanket. I adore watching a good movie and stitching. I like stitching so much, I'd stitch in church if I could.
So I thought I'd share what I completed last year:

From this seventies set, I have a huge wreath to do.
I embroidered tea towels for four girlfriends:
And stitched my first needlepoint Christmas ornaments:

However, there is the writing thing. LOL. I'm always busy with it. Find out more holiday and romantic comedy fun at: Amazon Central
May your days be Merry and Bright!

December 12, 2017

DASHING ALL THE WAY: A Christmas Anthology

#excerpt #giveaway

Good morning all! I hope you are all well into the swing of the holiday season (Hanukkah begins today!) and full of good cheer. To do my part for comfort and joy, I’ve got a short excerpt from my Christmas novella, “Up On the Rooftops, in DASHING ALL THE WAY: A Christmas Anthology with authors Celeste Bradley, Eva Devon, Heather Snow and myself!

Now, my novella, “Up On the Rooftops” is set in London, 1811, features a very Scottish heroine the likes of which I’ve never before written—a widow!

While our Caledonia McAlden Bowmont not exactly the “merry widow” of cliché, she is a woman who is grown up enough to know her own mind, and to know what she wants and likes. And what she wants and likes is our hero Tobias McTavish—an accomplished former thief!

Here they are, spark to each other’s tinder:

He kissed her the way a man kisses a woman he wants beyond distraction—with heat and perhaps a little anger. But he was angry—angry that she tempted him so. Angry that he couldn’t stop himself from wanting her just the same. Angry that she kissed him like he’d never been kissed before—as if she knew she was the most precious jewel he would ever hold in his hands. 
But they were in too public a place. Anyone might come by—her mother, her step-brother Arthur, her step-father the viscount. “Come,” he whispered against her lips, and she came willingly, grasping the hand her offered her to lead her down a corridor to the first door that gave out into the courtyard, where the winter wind lashed against her bare arms.
Toby immediately turned back, determined to find someplace indoors.
“No.” Despite the cold, she was just as determined. “I think I know a spot.”
She led him at a run to the carriage house, which was well-lit on the alley side, with braziers put out to warm the gathered coachmen as they waited for their charges within the house.
But Caledonia Bowmont was as clever as she was beautiful, steering them toward the back of the carriage house, where the Meecham town coach was put up tight and snug. And best of all, dark and inviting.
She clambered in and immediately pulled out a thick, fur-lined rug. “This will keep us warm.”
“No,” he contradicted even as he wrapped the dark sable around her shoulders. “I’ll keep you warm.”
He drew her close to kiss her, so close she was almost in his lap. And then she was in his lap, with her arms wrapped tight around his shoulders, kissing him as if it were the rightest and best thing in the world. As if they had always meant to meet in a dark, velvet-lined carriage. As if he had always dreamed of kissing her wrapped in fur and delight.
She smelled of sweet orange blossom—sunshine in the dark of winter—and she tasted of wicked desire and sparkling champagne. Of brightness and light. Of happiness. Of possibility.
That was her allure—that was her danger.
Because she made him think of impossible things. 
She made him hope.

What are you hoping for this holiday season? Me, I just want my family to be all together, and for my sprigs to be home safe and sound from college. :) 

Let me know your hopes in the comments below to be eligible to #win an e-copy of “Up On the Rooftops,” along with the three other novellas in DASHING ALL THE WAY!

December 5, 2017

Michelle Miles: New Release!

I’m going to use this space for my shameless self-promotion.

On Friday, December 1, the second book in my Age of Wizards series released. ON THE HUNT FOR THE WIZARD KING is out for public consumption. I’m so insanely excited about this book. It took me nearly a year to write because these books are long and complex. But I’m happy with the way it turned out and I think readers will enjoy Sunnie and Caleb’s story.

I sort of kicked myself for ending IN THE TOWER OF THE WIZARD KING on a cliffhanger. I’m sure a lot of readers hated that but I…couldn’t…help…myself.

The second book has a real ending. I promise. Most storylines are wrapped up nicely except for one or two lingering ones that will make you wonder what happened to these characters. I’ve been toying with an idea for a third book.

I’ve built this large world where there are wizards and faeries and even a few dragons. I think I’ve figured out a way to cross-over my Realm of Honor series with the Age of Wizards series with a cool new twist.

I have so many stories swirling around in my brain, it sometimes makes it hard for me to focus on what to do next. I want to do EVERYTHING next and that’s pretty much impossible. HA.

Anyway, here’s a little peek at the book. Buy links are at the bottom.

As they made their way down, she saw the shimmering thing in the water. She hadn’t noticed it earlier that day. Had it been there before and she missed it? She couldn’t quite make it out but she knew it was something that didn’t belong there.

“What is that?” She pointed to it.

Caleb beat her to the edge of the creek. She paused next to him and peered down at the long silver staff with the glowing orb nestled in what looked like a silver dragon’s claw. The water sparkled around it, giving it an ethereal glow.

“Stay away from it.” There was something urgent and commending in his voice.

Touch it. Take it. Pick up the staff, Sunnie.

The words whispered in her head, the voice a dark and forbidding presence urging her forward. As though something reached down into her inner psyche and compelled her to do as it commanded. She dropped to her knees at the edge of the creek.

“What are you doing, Sunnie?”

Though she knew Caleb was speaking, she ignored him because the pull from the staff overpowered her senses.

Embrace the magic. Take the staff.

She pinched the bridge of her nose between her thumb and forefinger. Was she hearing things? Or was the voice really there?

Become who you are meant to be, Sunnie.

That time she was certain she heard the words in her head. She glanced up at Caleb but he merely stood there, almost like he was frozen in time. Sunnie glanced back at the silver staff in the water and noticed something very strange about the ripples. It seemed almost as though they moved in slow motion.

She heard a commotion that caught her attention and she saw the men on the other side of the creek. Two of them. One of them had the staff. Somehow she knew this was not the present. She was seeing something that happened in the past. It was only a brief image before it faded. The next image that came into view was of one of them falling backward into the creek, releasing the staff into the water.

“I must take it.”

She stretched out her hand but it was out of reach. Her knees dug into the soft ground as she reached toward it, her muscles straining. Her fingertips brushed the cool water.

“Don’t touch it.” Caleb’s hand landed on her shoulder and pulled her away from the water.

“I have to pick it up.” Dark need pounded through her with such a violent fury, she shoved off his hand and reached for it again.

“Sunnie, no.”

He practically tackled her like a defensive lineman pummeling the quarterback. He shoved her away from the edge of the creek, pushing her to the ground. His hands encircled her wrists like a vice as he held them in place over her head. His long lean form pressed against her, covering her, as he looked down at her.

iBooks | B&N | Kobo | Smashwords

November 14, 2017

Guest Princess Mary Morgan! #PlottingPrincesses #ParanormalRomance #TimeTravel #amwriting

Welcome to our guest Princess of the day, Mary Morgan!

Award-winning Scottish paranormal romance author, Mary Morgan resides in Northern California, with her own knight in shining armor. However, during her travels to Scotland, England, and Ireland, she left a part of her soul in one of these countries and vows to return. If you enjoy history, tortured heroes, and a wee bit of magic, then time-travel within the pages of her books.

Speed Round:
Favorite movie: Braveheart
Favorite book: The Mists of Avalon by Marion Zimmer Bradley
Last book read: The Widow Clicquot by Tilar J. Mazzeo
Favorite color: Green
Stilettos or flipflops: Barefoot
Coffee or tea: Tea
Ebook or paperback: Paperback
Pencil or pen: Pen
Favorite song: The Celts by Enya
Streak or not: Not
Favorite dessert: Anything dark chocolate
Champagne or gin: Champagne
Paranormal or Historical: Historical
Ginger or Mary Ann: Mary Ann
Favorite TV show: Beauty and the Beast (Ron Perlman and Linda Hamilton)
Hot or cold: Cold
POV: Optimistic
I'd die if I don't have: Caffeine

One Line Blurb:
“You met them in the Order of the Dragon Knights, now journey to the realm of the Fae and witness their legends!"

Now on sale for .99cents!

Excerpt from QUEST OF A WARRIOR:

Putting a fist to her mouth to stifle the laughter, Ivy turned when the front door to the pub blew open. The cold blast of air lashed across her face, but she gave no care. Her mouth became dry as the man stood there blocking what little light remained in the sky. His silver-blond wavy hair whipped around his chiseled face shaded by a light beard. Yet, it was those eyes that bore into hers—holding her captive. Were they silver or ice blue? She blinked several times, and swallowed.

The giant stepped into the pub and closed the door. Ivy’s gaze traveled the length of him as he made his way past her to the bar. She couldn’t help but follow him with her eyes. He was sinfully dressed in all black—jeans, boots, leather jacket opened to reveal a black tee. He was magnificent.

“Sweet Brigid,” whispered Erin. “Have the Vikings invaded Glennamore again?”

The woman’s words snapped Ivy out of her lustful trance. She looked at her friend. “Vikings in Glennamore?”

Mac placed her coat over her shoulders and chuckled. “Do not fear they were banished many centuries ago. I’ll go see what the Viking wants. I’m sure he’s only passing through and needs a pint and some food. There’s nothing in Glennamore to raid.”

The room blurred, and Ivy brushed a hand over her brow. “Not a Viking,” she uttered softly.

Erin placed a hand on her arm. “Are you all right?”

Ivy lifted her head. The gorgeous man leaned against the bar as Mac made his way to him. “I said he’s not a Viking.”

Erin smirked. “You could have fooled me.”

The man straightened as Mac pointed a finger directly in Ivy’s direction.

Ivy was unable to move, the words tumbled free as if spoken by someone else. “He’s an ancient Celt.”

The stranger immediately glanced her way, shock registering across his face as if he had heard her spoken words.

“Good Lord, you’re as white as a sheet, Ivy Kathleen.”

She barely heard Erin’s words. The Celt moved toward her, a frown marring his handsome features. A tremor slithered down her spine as she lifted her head up to meet his gaze.

“Ivy O’Callaghan?” The soft burr of his voice brushed over her face, and she couldn’t determine if it was Irish or Scottish.

Her mouth stayed dry, making her unable to acknowledge the man’s question. Nodding slowly, she took a step back. Then the Celt smiled, and Ivy thought she would melt right there on the floor. How could anyone look that gorgeous?

Erin nudged her. “Forgive my friend, Ivy Kathleen, she seems to have lost her voice.”

Recovering her wits, Ivy replied, “Sorry. I’m done telling stories about my life in the States.”

The Celt arched a brow. “Not interested in your stories. Sean Casey sent me to inspect your repairs.”

“You know Sean?” interrupted Erin.

Smiling, the man nodded. “Most of his life. I’m Conn MacRoich.”

Find Mary Morgan at:

November 9, 2017

The Holiday Dupe #Christmas #presents #holidayboxedset

Recently, I conversed with someone who shared his hilarious Christmas remembrance. Every December, presents were piled around his family’s tree in the living room, but no one dared to enter unless there was company or on Christmas. On Christmas Eve, the kids opened one present. Afterwards, off to bed because Santa was coming. On Christmas morning, they opened the rest.

One year, he realized the packages under the tree hadn’t changed from the night before. Nothing new had been added. Nothing from Santa. And then he had this realization: his parents had lied. He’d been duped.

Off he went to confront his mother who danced around the subject and finally explained how all things Santa worked.

When I was younger, my family went to Grandmother’s for Christmas Eve celebration with my mom’s family. It was a joyous event with good food and a gift from Grandmother.

After my family returned home and we were sent to bed with the admonition “better go to sleep so Santa can come,” my sister and I decided to watch for Santa. The hallway to the bedrooms had a small jog to our room where we hid. Lo and behold, we saw Mom and Dad emerging from the bathroom which opened to the hallway. They were carrying dolls and plastic musical instruments. After a while, no more parents. So we watched longer for Santa. Finally, sleep took over and we plopped in bed.

Imagine our surprise the next morning when we went to the tree and saw the gifts Mom and Dad had carried, but nothing different. That was when we figured out they were Santa.

We’d been duped – in a not-so bad way. LOL

At what age did you discover all things Santa?

So what is new? Why Season of Magic, a holiday boxed set, is now FREE at Amazon and other e-retailers. My romantic comedy story is Holiday Disaster (Christmas + Bad Plumbing = Holiday Disaster). Here’s a bit about our stories:

Noel Noel Noel by Merry Holly ~ Dumped and lonely, is it possible to find love at the local mall? Noelle thinks not, but a chance encounter with Chase Clayborne while Christmas shopping has her rethinking her rigid set of rules.

A Cinderella Christmas by Cara Marsi ~ Jessica Gallo no longer believed in fairy tales or happy endings. And she certainly didn’t believe she’d find her Prince Charming at Saks Fifth Avenue. Her Fairy Godmother thought differently.

Matchmaker Matchmaker by Bobbi Lerman ~ With Chanukah around the corner, is there enough magic left for a matchmaker to bring Molly's cynical heart back to life?

Yuletide Bride by Gerri Brousseau ~ The Dowager Duchess’s decree that her grandson must marry before Twelfth Night or relinquish his title and fortune sends him into a tail spin. Without any prospects and with only two weeks until Christmas will Stuart Nelson find himself destitute or will he find The Yuletide Bride?

Holiday Disaster by Vicki Batman: The week before Christmas and all is in disarray when a librarian experiences horrible plumbing issues and a Mr. Maintenance Man who isn’t nearly as jolly as Santa Claus.


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