Adele Dubois Blog

My Dearest Readers,

When I was in high school, I had a dream. I was going to be the next Stephen King. Heh. Yeah. Stay with me. Please. I knew my ideas were fabulous and I knew all it would take is for an editor to look at it and they would offer me up the moon and the stars and best of all, a contract. I had my girlfriends read everything I wrote. And they kept telling me, “This is fabulous! It’s SO funny! Hilarious!” Seeing it really wasn’t supposed to BE funny, I immediately changed course realizing I actually had a better handle on being funny than scary. I also figured adding a romance into it would even make it better since that is what I loved to read.

I then entered college as an English major. I was going to be teacher and write during the summers. Even then I was a smart girl who knew I wasn’t going to make jack and that I needed a job to support the “creative” one. Throughout all of college I wrote historical romances. One right after another. And kept submitting. And submitting. And submitting. And kept getting rejected and rejected and rejected. In the meantime, I got married. I had two kids. I joined RWA. I got critique partners. I did honed and honed and honed the crap out of my writing. And kept writing and getting rejected. I eventually racked up over 200 rejections and had written over 40 books in those 11 years of trying to get published.

When I finally sold my first historical romance, MISTRESS OF PLEASURE, and my second book, LORD OF PLEASURE, I was beside myself. It didn’t feel real. To FINALLY arrive at a destination I had been traveling toward for 11 long years seemed like a mirage. Which fortunately, I quickly snapped out of. Because after all, most of my friends are all published and unpublished writers and the stories they all have told me throughout the years made me realize I had to fight with fists up for myself every step of the way. I knew publishers did little to no promotion for their authors, so I spearheaded my own promo, ready to be more than just an author. And even though I was budgeting very well and spending countless hours networking and promoting on websites and blogs, doing tons for free, I still ended up spending $7,000 on my first book. Which was way more than my advance. But hey, every business starts in the red. Right?

Then the reviews started coming in about my series set in 1830 London England about a school that educates men on the topic of love and seduction. People loved it! Wow. It got nominated for awards. Wow. Readers are e-mailing me raving. Wow. Readers from France, Austria, Poland, South Africa and from all over the U.S and the world. Wow. It just kept getting better and better. I was beginning to feel as if every penny I spent was all worth it (even though my family and I weren’t going on any vacations and were eating out of cans). Because all that mattered was that my publisher loved me and my readers loved my series.

Come contract time, I’m ready for whatever they wanna throw at me. Or so I thought. Mistress of Pleasure, though completely sold out and unavailable anywhere (unless it’s a used copy, some going for a ridiculous amount of $40.00), hadn’t done as well as my publisher had hoped. So without waiting for the second book to come out to see if the series was even worth saving, I get a rejection from my own editor citing lack of sales.

I have to say this rejection felt more personal than any of the other two hundred and some rejections I’d received. Because it was no longer “Your book isn’t good enough” it became “Your sales aren’t good enough.” Since when is an author supposed to be a market guru AND a fabulous writer? Eck.

I love this series. The men in it make me laugh and it broke my heart to think that my readers will never get a chance to read about Lord Brayton, my glorious male virgin. The only alpha virgin I ever plan to write about. Then I realized something, why I am letting a publisher decide what is worth holding on to? Shouldn’t that be a reader’s job?

Ah. Herein lies the purpose of my post. I am challenging everyone, be they readers or writers to help me do something that’s never been done before. Save a series from a death sentence given by a publisher. Can it be done? Who knows. But I eat challenges for breakfast and I hope you do too. Please join me in saving my series. Come August 4th, tell everyone you know (yes, even you’re 72 year old grandfather) to buy the book, Lord of Pleasure. In doing so, you’ll have a chance to win one of three $50 Visa Gift Cards. How? Check out my website for details at http://www.delilahmarvelle.com/

That said, thank you for all the support and love everyone has already shown me. Feel free to post and repost this to everyone under the moon and the stars. To all you readers out there, thank you for supporting us writers. To all you writers out there, don’t ever give up on your writing. The moment you do, you give up on yourself. Which is why I’m not giving up on my series.

Cheers and much love,
Delilah Marvelle

In an earlier blog post I described my elation at finding pictures of professional actor Rick Mora, who looked much like Sonny Wild Horse Hendricks, the hero I imagined in my new release DESERT WILD. Rick Mora appeared in the movie Twilight and graciously gave permission to use his images to promote DESERT WILD. Here are a few new pics.

Sonny Wild Horse Hendricks as art. (Rick Mora)

Here’s a great pic of Rick Mora as Sonny Wild Horse Hendricks in DESERT WILD, with heroine Caitlyn Spencer, as I imagined them in my book.

Who’s your favorite hero?

http://www.jasminejade.com/ps-7333-50-desert-wild.aspx

Intimate Moments by Kate Hill  

Visit Kate on her website at:  http://www.kate-hill.com

In most romance novels, erotic or traditional, the sexual relationship between the main characters is an important part of their bonding. Whether the hot sex happens right away or there is a gradual buildup to it, it’s exciting to experience the culmination of the characters’ passion along with them. However sex isn’t the only intimacy shared in a good romance. The characters have moments of innocent fun, arguments and times when they must help and comfort each other.
 
Though I enjoy action scenes, as both a reader and a writer I love tender scenes just as much. The times when the hero and heroine walk hand-in-hand, talking and getting to know and understand each other, make their sexual encounters more appealing. I love the moments when the hero takes his partner in his arms to simply hold on through a storm, or when a lover offers comfort and care when his or her partner is in need.
 
How do you feel about non-sexual scenes of intimacy and affection? Do you enjoy them or prefer to glide to the action? Do you think they enhance the sex scenes or have little bearing upon them?

* * * * *

Pandora’s Box by Kate Hill

From Ellora’s Cave

http://www.jasminejade.com/ps-7255-50-pandoras-box.aspx

Summary:

Pandora Fourteen has been trained in the arts of seduction and assassination. To test her skills, she is ordered to seduce ACT Corps officer Steel. Pandora and Steel had been reared in a lab and were inseparable until the government forced them apart. They are explosively attracted to each other when they meet again. To Pandora, seducing Steel is no longer an assignment, but when she decides to turn her back on her career to marry him, threats from her manipulative superior separate them once again.

After Pandora spurns Steel’s affection, he leaves the ACT Corps for a new life in the notorious Delilah Sector, where he becomes an intergalactic bounty hunter. His all-consuming love for Pandora had nearly destroyed him. Yet when the government hires him to track down Pandora, who has disappeared before completing her latest assignment, he can’t resist the chance to see her again. Finally reunited, their lust burns hotter than the sun, but the past has left scars that might never be healed.

Excerpt:

“Are you ever going to stop living in the past?” she asked.

“I don’t. Come on. We need to get out of here and find civilization. Before my monitor fizzled out it indicated a village just outside the forest. We need to head north.” He walked to a storage compartment and removed a backpack as well as a handheld monitor. Then he took her bag from the locker and passed it to her. It was then she noticed the condition of his hands. His torn knuckles oozed red and the rest of his hands were stained with dried blood.

 ”What the hell happened to your hands?” she demanded. 

“Nice of you to ask,” he said sarcastically. “How do you think I escaped from that cell you locked me in?”

Her lip curled and she held his gaze. “You broke the door down?” 

“I wasn’t going to let you get away from me.”

His words struck her deeply. He’d been that determined to reach her.

“Where’s your first aid?”

He passed her a container from the compartment and she opened it.

Pandora removed some antiseptic spray and bandages.

“Hold out your hands,” she ordered.

He did as she asked and she cleaned and wrapped his injuries.

“That should hold for a while,” she said, running her fingertips over his bandaged knuckles.

A little thrill shot through her when he took her hand in his. Tilting her face up, she met his gaze.

http://www.jasminejade.com/ps-7255-50-pandoras-box.aspx

* * * * *

Kate Hill is vegetarian New Englander who loves writing romantic fantasies. When she’s not working on her books, she enjoys reading, exercising, and researching vampires and Viking history. Visit her online at http://www.kate-hill.com
 

I’m a featured author on Nina Pierce’s Thursday Thirteen blog.

I think Nina is my new BFF. Check out her list of thirteen favorite authors with pics.

http://www.ninapierce.com/romanceblog/index.htm

My Yorkie became depressed while I attended the RWA National Conference in our nation’s capitol, Washington, D.C., and stayed in his bed much of the time I was gone. He barely ate and wouldn’t play ball or tug of war when my husband offered. Yorkies are like perpetual two-year children. Not wanting to play is cause for concern.

The good news–the moment I walked into the house, my Yorkie ran to greet me and then brought his ball for a rousing game of fetch. After a few enthusiastic rounds,  he ate his dinner. All better now. Mommy’s home.

While my Yorkie stayed in Pennsylvania, I visited the National Zoo with friend and sister Ellora’s Cave author, Stephanie Julian. We saw Giant Pandas, Peacocks, Zebras, Cougars, Orangutans, tropical birds and a Hippo, among others. I tried not be insulted when a bird dropped a doodie on my arm. (Better my arm than my hair.) Isn’t that supposed to mean I’ll have good luck?

Here are a few pics:

What do you call a hotel filled with talented, vibrant, career-focused women dedicated to the craft of writing romance? The Romance Writers of America National Conference in our nation’s capitol, Washington, D.C.

The week was a blast. Not only did I meet scores of authors, editors, publishers and journalists, I also took a side trip to the National Zoo, had my portrait taken by Studio 16, and enjoyed the international restaurants located on the avenue opposite the Marriott.

The variety of workshops was terrific, and though I was exhausted by the full schedule and fast pace, I found time at night to drink wine with other industry professionals at a busy sidewalk café. The camaraderie of old and new friends was truly the best part of the week.

Here are a few pics:

RITA Award finalists Brenda Novak (L) and Sharon Sala (R) seated next to me at a PAN workshop (PAN=Published Authors Network). It was a pleasure to meet such talented, gracious women.

Gail Barrett, a PAN workshop partner, won the National Readers’ Choice Award for her Romantic Suspense novel To Protect A Princess. Congratulations! (Click the book cover to visit Gail’s site)

Members of Valley Forge Romance Writers Stephanie Julian (L) and Daria Cyzon (R) staffed the Moonlight Madness Bazaar on Thursday night. The fundraising event for local RWA chapters was lots of fun and a huge success.

My new portraits taken by Studio 16.  You like?

In my next blog I’ll post pictures of the Pandas at the National Zoo. Too cute!

Benjamin G. Bratt was born December 16, 1963 in San Francisco California, and currently resides there with his wife and two children. His Peruvian Indian mother and American father  divorced when he was young. His mother introduced Benjamin to Native American activism around 1969, and he continues his involvement today.

The ratings of the already popular TV show Law and Order skyrocketed when Benjamin Bratt joined the cast from 1995-1999. He was nominated for an Emmy Award for Outstanding Supporting Actor in a Drama Series for his role as Det. Reynaldo “Rey” Curtis.

Benjamin Bratt has a long list of movie and television credits, including Miss Congeniality, Blood In Blood Out, Traffic, Pinero, Love In The Time of Cholera and many others.

Wow. No caption necessary.

Supports the American Indian College Fund and is on the board of the San Francisco Bay Area Friendship House Association of American Indians and Native American Health Center. Benjamin narrated the PBS American Experience episode “We Shall Remain” that explained why Native American history is an integral part of American history.

As The Cleaner William Banks on his current hit A&E television series. Based on the real life story of a man who dedicates himself to helping others get clean and sober. If you haven’t seen this show, check it out. The Cleaner is one of the best shows on television.

Personal Quotes:

“My family is like a sanctuary to me. I always turn to them for support and strength. I take comfort in knowing no matter which path I choose, my family stands behind me.”

“It takes some kind of fortitude for someone like my mom to single-handedly raise five children, get them through college, and keep them out of jail.”  (Source: IMDB, Internet Movie Database.)

I think Benjamin Bratt is the perfect CLASSIC HUNK for the hot month of July, don’t you agree?

Peace on the Emerald Isle by Miriam Newman

Visit Miriam on her website at http://www.miriamnewman.com/

Some have asked how important setting is to my books. Well, only as important as the characters, the dialogue or maybe the HEA. It’s just a small consideration ranking up there slightly behind my ability to put my backside in a chair and start typing.

For twenty-five years, consumed with the needs of a husband and five children, putting that backside in the chair was well-nigh impossible! I ran myself down to a (gasp) size eight working full time, caring for said husband and kids, my parents, his mother and two horses as well as other assorted pets. And if you knew me you’d know that ever wearing a size eight was nothing short of a miracle. If I got to pen four lines of a sonnet in the middle of the night while waiting for barfing kid number two to exit the bathroom in time for child number three to hurl, I considered myself blessed. They only got sick in tandem, only got well in time for the next round to start, and when they were all healthy at one time (oh, thank you, God!) I was in the car.

We had vacations in Cape May and on the Chesapeake Bay; for some reason, the entire family was drawn to water. But I was too busy brushing sand out of pants, including my own, to pay a lot of attention to scenery. When I finally got home, ready to kiss the ground because it didn’t move, I had a vague memory of views I had enjoyed at the time. But memory sped away like something seen from a train window, disappearing into the onrush of daily life.

Then—so suddenly, it seemed—everything changed. The nest began to empty. My parents and mother-in-law were gone. And then—also so swiftly yet with such agonizing slowness—my husband was gone, too, taken well before his time by leukemia.

There was only one thing to do. As soon as the dust had settled, I left for Ireland. A portion of my genes come from the Emerald Isle and for some reason I was convinced I would find peace there.

At first glimpse from the plane window, the famed Emerald Isle was brown. Murky brown, visible through streamers of cloud and mist. I could see the fabled stone walls, the little patchwork of fields and occasional farmhouses, the winding silver of waters. But where was the green? The plane descended, the fog cleared, the sun came out. BAM!!! There it was. An eyeball-hurting color unlike anything seen anywhere else. The green, green grass of home. My Scottish-by-descent grandmother’s family had been relocated, wending their way through both halves of Ireland and intermarrying with natives along the way. I had been close to Nana and there was no doubt in my mind, heart or soul– I had come back to the place of my beginning.

I spent the next three years where I knew I needed to be, punctuated by trips back to the States to attend to business and renew my tourist status. I didn’t work while I was in Ireland; I wrote. In hotel rooms and B&B’s, sheep pastures, Norman watch towers, on the shores of the Lakes of Killarney and amid the ruins of the Rock of Cashel, I wrote all those words I never had time to write. They poured out of me like never-ending streams of water running straight down the wild hills of Connemara. I wrote of the Burren, where slag heaps of rock lay piled like playthings of the gods. And the Dingle Peninsula, where painter’s light could make a fortune for the people if only they knew it. But they are happy with their life where everything is rock and sky and white sand beaches stretching away like fingers pointing to America where so many went because they have nothing in Dingle but fish. Hard to feed a family that way.

Eventually I came back to my family, of course, not healed but at least more whole. And the wonders of the books that Ireland wrenched out of me never cease to amaze me. I know with sure and certain instinct that they are the best I will ever write. Not the most technically perfect, perhaps. My craft will improve. But my soul is in those books and in the land where clouds follow you, scudding so low that you move in their shadow on sunny days, like a soft hand holding your heart. 

 *****

Summary:  Scion: House of Bardin

After eight years as a rebellious sex slave on the planet Thelona, Lela is weary and jaded.  When she is purchased in the public square by a bored aristocrat, she hopes he will tire of her and let her go work in his kitchens.

Caius, forced into the lifestyle of the idle rich by his return to Thelona after eight exciting years in the Mercenary Corps, thinks he has only bought a night’s pleasure.

Two restless kindred spirits who won’t be tamed, they never expect what happens next.

*****

Fantasy poetry driven by myths and legends has been Miriam Newman’s passion for as long as she can remember.  She was published in poetry before catching the romance writing bug.  She brings that background to her writing along with a lifelong addition to horses, an 18 year career in various areas of psychiatric social services and many trips to Ireland, where she nurtures her muse.  Her writing ranges from contemporary fantasy romance to fantasy historical, futuristic and science fiction romance.  Currently she lives in rural Pennsylvania with a “motley crew” of rescue animals. 

Hubby and I are taking a couple days off to hit the beach and casino. I’m feeling lucky–maybe I’ll come home with a bit of cash instead of sand in my pockets. We always wait until the July Fourth crowd heads north for home before we head south to our favorite coastal destination.

Check back for guest bloggers Miriam Newman, Kate Hill and Delilah Marvelle this month, as well as the return of my popular CLASSIC HUNKS column, featuring hot hunks over forty. (Is hot hunks redundant? Ah well, double the pleasure.)

You’re gonna’ love July’s CLASSIC HUNK! In honor of my sizzling hot, Native American DESERT WILD hero, my July celebrity is an indiginous man, too. I bet you can’t guess who!

My blog has been filled with sexy excerpts and dynamite pictures to celebrate my new paranormal release DESERT WILD. Scroll back to read the summary and sultry snippets of the book. I’m thrilled to report that early reader feedback has been extremely positive. So far, fans have given DESERT WILD rave reviews.

I’ll be in Washington D.C. from July 15-19 for the Romance Writers of America National Conference, hob-nobbing with other published authors, agents and editors. A group of us will also visit the White House. Sounds apropos that romance writers should send a little love to the president and his family while we’re in town. I’ll blog about the events, so stop by.

*****

P.S. Photo of actor and model Rick Mora used with permission.

P.P.S. The photo of my foot was taken on my backyard deck last summer. I used the picture in a 2008 blog post about summer fun. Want to laugh? Someone copied it and has been using that photo all over the Internet. Guess that means I have a pretty foot. I especially liked my blue polish.

*****

Off to soak up some sun and play ka-ching on the slots! Wish me luck!