Sweet Misbehavin' by Christine Young

I'm pleased to welcome an author I met when I first joined a RWA(Romance writers of America) chapter in the Willamette Valley. She was warm, welcoming, and already a published author. At the time I thought published authors wouldn't have a thing to do with a newbie like me. Was I ever wrong! RWA has taught me that no matter how many books a romance author has written they are still willing to help out another romance writer. 

So give a warm welcome to Christine Young!

Born in Medford, Oregon, novelist Christine Young has lived in Oregon all of her life. After graduating from Oregon State University with a BS in science, she spent another year at Southern Oregon State University working on her teaching certificate, and a few years later received her Master's degree in secondary education and counseling. Now the long, hot days of summer provide the perfect setting for creating romance. She sold her first book, Dakota's Bride, the summer of 1998 and her second book, My Angel to Kensington. Her teaching and writing careers have intertwined with raising three children. Christine's newest venture is the creation of Rogue Phoenix Press. Christine is the founder, editor and co-owner with her husband. They live in Salem, Oregon.

Blurb for Sweet Misbehavin'

Cast adrift after fleeing the home of Jokul, the ice demon, Atantsi, a firestarter, grew to womanhood as she moved through time to keep the demon from finding her. Though stubborn and courageous, she was ill prepared to use powers she had not been taught. Her first sight of the intoxicating Carr McKenna left her breathless, and her second encounter gave her hope for a future she never thought she had.

A playboy, a second son and a shifter, a man who thought his life would be carefree, Carr McKenna was shocked to discover the woman he’d paid as an escort is a firestarter who is running for her life. He is the leader of all the McKennas around the world and that he has multiple powers. His passion for Margo and the need to defend her might cost him his life as well as hers.

Excerpt:

Two days later and in a rage, Margo swept through the lobby of the hotel. A funnel cloud of heat swirled around her. The inferno penetrating her body simmered soul deep.

Calm yourself.

Breathe.

Calm yourself.

She stopped at a drinking fountain to drink the cooling water. Breathe... Think of the summer blue sky and cool mountain breezes.

Believing she had her emotions under control, she quickly made her way to the elevator. The shiny silver gray metal caught images behind her as the people went about their business.

He paid my rent—bought my contract at the agency—paid off my nanny. How dare he! An inferno of wrath swept through her. Inside she felt as if she boiled.

Suddenly a garbage can outside the hotel burst into flames. The elevator metal caught the reflection. She turned, her breath catching in her throat. The attendant at the desk grabbed a fire extinguisher and rushed outside. In minutes the fire had died to embers, but the one inside Margo simmered, waiting for release.

She punched the elevator button then pushed it again and again.

Damn him. Damn, damn and double damn. I'm not going to let Carr McKenna wreak havoc with my life.

Doors in front of her opened. She stepped inside and punched the number four circle. Stepping back, she clasped and unclasped her hands, closed her eyes, inhaled long and deep. Nothing seemed to cool her body or quiet her rollercoaster emotions.

A few minutes later, she raised her hand to knock on Carr's door. Before she saw him, she needed to tamp down the rising anger. She needed to think of something else. Sophie, so pretty when she left her playing with the nanny. She'd dumped the crayons out of the box and was drawing pictures of their house.

Stay cool, stay calm, you have to do this.

By the time Carr opened the door, she was shaking from head to toe. On wobbly legs, she stepped inside.

"You look beautiful."

She whirled around, her hands clenching into tight fists. His smile and his dimples infuriated her more, her breathing quick and shallow. Unable to regulate what she was feeling and before she could stop herself, she swung as hard as she could, slapping Carr on the cheek.

"I hate you." But she didn't hate him. She abhorred what he'd done.

Silence lingered for a few seconds. His smile vanished as he put his hand on his cheek. One eyebrow rose a fraction.

"A... What did I do?" He rubbed his face, his eyes wide with seeming curiosity. His dimples had vanished for a moment but now they were back.

"I will not be your mistress or your whore." She jabbed a finger at his chest, hoping the violence against him would make her feel better.

His arms went out in a gesture that seemed to say confusion. "I have no idea what you're talking about."

"I won't be kept." She didn't think the heat inside would evaporate. The inferno grew out of proportion.

"You need to explain to me..."

She stepped up to him, her hands on his chest. "You bought my contract and ended it. You paid my rent and the nanny. I will not be bought."

"I was just trying to help." Once again, he spread his arms wide, a gesture that seemed to question.

"That's not…” 

The receipts in the ashtray flamed. “Oh my, God.”

Sweet Misbehavin'

ISBN: 978-1-62420-110-3

Book Heat Level: 5

Buy at: Rogue Phoenix Press, Amazon, Barnes and Noble

Links:

Facebook author page: https://www.facebook.com/pages/Christine-Young/350132315013316

Blog: Christine Young: http://christineyoungauthor.com

Addicted to Writing blog:  http://christineyoung-romancewriter.blogspot.com/?zx=d22ceb58f0f25b5c

Rogues Angles blog: http://roguesangels.blogspot.com

Pinterest: http://www.pinterest.com/chrisy/

Twitter: https://twitter.com/achristay

Saturday Guest- Christine Young

Attributes of Writing a Romance Novel

Christine Young

Top attributes of a romance novel that I feel are important and how I used them in Safari Moon.

Romance novels are character driven. To me the characterization of the novel is the single most important element. The next most important is the conflict. There must be internal as well as external conflict.

I spend a great deal of time developing my characters. The characters must have a life before the story. They have birthdays and anniversaries; favorite hobbies and nicknames. Several years ago I attended an inservice/workshop at the school where I worked. It taught how different mind styles affected a character's personality.

When the characters in Safari Moon were created, my intention was to set their mind styles in conflict. A minor thing but a very real beginning to their journey to find love. Nyssa is concrete sequential which means she is organized and has to know the what, when, where, how, and why of every task. To her all she does and plans is clear and precise. Solo, on the other hand, is concrete random. Solo will come up with answers before he even hears the question. He will jump back and forth between fact and theory. This ability often leaves Solo unable to explain his thinking.

These are some of the internal conflicts, which leave the characters breathless but dying to figure out the other person's point of view.

External conflicts are usually more obvious and revolve around the physical actions of the characters. They are on the surface not hidden in the mind. These conflicts can change from scene to scene but the major or elemental conflict is a common theme carried throughout the novel.

Romantic conflict is a third conflict one can find in a romance novel. They struggle to come to terms with their emotions. And raw emotions can get in the way of love scenes. When, where, why, and how they occur. Of course all three conflicts tend to merge and separate as the novel is created.

Turning points are also essential to a good romance. Every scene must have some kind of turning point. The first kiss, the moment the protagonists meet, any decision they make which will effect the outcome of the story. In the first chapter, when Solo decides to call Nyssa and ask for her help concerning his 'willing, eager and able women is an example. Their needs to be at least three major turning points as well as a black moment when it appears all will be lost.

Theme, motivation, tone and tension are other elements which I incorporate in the novel. I try to put each of these into each scene. And to keep the reader turning the pages when I write a scene, I plot to a twist. So the last sentence in the scene compels the reader to continue.

Oh, and did I forget point of view. Point of view is incredibly important to creating tension in a story. Each scene should be in only one of the protagonist's point of view. 

Safari Moon

Christine Young writing as Ann Christine

Excerpt Heat Level: 2

Book Heat Level: 2

Buy at: www.roguephoenixpress.com

Solo St. John, a wildlife photographer, is preparing for a trip to Alaska.  Suddenly, Solo finds women of all sorts invading his privacy, his home and his office, all cooing nonsense words and blatantly throwing themselves at him.  Solo doesn't know why, and he has no idea how to rid himself of the persistent women.  He finally decides to beg a favor of his best buddy Nyssa Harrington. 

In love with Solo for the past ten years and knowing he doesn't return her feelings Nyssa doesn't want to talk to Solo.  She knows if she accepts his phone call, she will not be able to resist the temptation to hope again.  

Excerpt

Solo St. John was in the middle of an erotic dream about his buddy, Nyssa Harrington, when the click of his front door shutting brought him to instant alert mode. 

Solo looked up, caught a flashing glimpse of a good deal of naked flesh; long legs, perfectly rounded derriere, and a waist he could span with his hands. The intruder's long blond hair curled around her shoulders an inch above the ties of her bikini top.

Then he saw the skunk. He blinked twice.

This woman and the skunk were not the subject of his brief and very strange dream, a fantasy that made his mind speed along at sixty in a residential zone. This was someone he had never seen before and he resented the intrusion.

"Hello," she cooed seductively from his living room. "Will you come out and play?"

The skunk stuck a black and white head around the open door to his bedroom. A second later the animal turned and lifted his tail before disappearing into the living room.

Solo was out of bed and pulling on his jeans before the count of five. Yet in that short time, the lady in question, along with the skunk that was now exploring his fireplace hearth, had taken over his living room.

The lithe, supple blond sported an expensive camera, and all the while the lady in question babbled nonsense words.

"I'm willing, able, and eager." She posed for him, a pose meant to entice.

"You're insane?" He hesitated then said to the lady, "Get that animal out of here!"

"I read the ad in the newspaper for a wildlife photographer, and I wanted to be the first one here." She smiled and tugged on a leash which was connected to the skunk. "Juniper is my pet. She's deperfumed or whatever."

Pet?

He had never, to his recollection, set eyes on this woman. Frozen stock-still in his bare feet between the bedroom and the living room of his rustic forest retreat in the hills outside Sisters, Oregon, Solo St. John was completely, utterly baffled.

After all, he had placed the ad in a few of the most widely distributed papers in Oregon. That was two days ago. Yesterday, having second thoughts and knowing he didn't want to train an assistant, he pulled it. Although none of this made sense, instinctively, he knew she told the truth. The ad was the cause of this phenomenon in his cabin.

"Come here and play." Posing seductively once again, she beckoned him with one slim index finger.

Why didn't he want to play? Wouldn't any normal, warm-blooded American male dream of waking up to an almost naked blond bombshell in his living room? Wouldn't that male want to play?

Why didn't he feel turned on and excited. Why didn't he fantasize about what would happen if he obeyed? All those lush curvaceous parts on display didn't interest him in the least.

He closed his eyes for a brief count of three. No, this wasn't a dream and the slap on the face he gave himself didn't cause the vision to disappear. He still had a good view of long, shapely legs and a bust line that threatened to pop the seams of her minuscule top.

"Lord." Only now, he realized he must have left his front door unlocked. He pulled his gaze from the fiasco on his hearth and reminded himself that a gentleman didn't stare.

"Smile." She brought the camera up and clicked a sideways snapshot of him before she stepped back and captured a print of the skunk. "You did want someone who could photograph wildlife. Didn't you?"

Solo raked a hand through short, ragged blond hair he knew had begun to stand on end. He didn't need this, and he was always hard pressed to put two and two together this late at night. He was a morning person, up before dawn. Even if he'd had all his wits about him, he wouldn't know how to politely rid himself of this strange intruder and her pet skunk.

He didn't want to admit, even to himself, but it looked like she was disrobing. Stripping was a better term. All she needed were a pair of tassels and music.

As he stepped forward in an attempt to stop her, she slipped off her top and twirling it around her index finger tossed it at him. The bikini bra flew past him and missed his nose by less than an inch. The bottoms landed squarely against his chest and slid down his body to land on his bare feet. Before he could reach her, she stood in front of him, all kinds of pale pink flesh revealed and waiting for him.

Thank you for hosting Safari Moon!

Wednesday Promo- Rogue's Angels

I'm pleased today to introduce you to three women I met twelve years ago when I joined Romance Writers of America. Their warmth, willingness to mentor, and openness drew me into the Mid-Willamette Valley RWA chapter. Welcome Genene Valleau, Christine Young, and CL Kraemer.

IF YOU LEAVE A COMMENT YOUR NAME WILL BE PLACED IN THE DRAWING TO WIN A PRINT COPY OF THIS ANTHOLOGY.

COLLABORATING ON AN ANTHOLOGY: A COLLECTION OF "FIRSTS"

I was delighted when Christine Young asked me to contribute a story for an anthology. Her new e-publishing venture was just getting off the ground and I was honored to help make it soar!

This was my first novella, first anthology and first romantic comedy. As we moved through the process of publishing the anthology, I garnered a few more "firsts."

A friend at the local animal shelter asked if we would donate "write-in" parts in our stories--similar to cameo appearances on TV--for a benefit auction. I had recently worked at the shelter and adopted a number of dogs from there. This would be the first time to try something like this, but how could I say no?

This was the first time I had collaborated with other authors and planned promotion with others. Ironically, this was also my first published story that did not have a pet in it.

Our launch party for A VALENTINE'S ANTHOLOGY--my first one that wasn't online--was held at the local shelter. A dog who belonged to one of the staff drew names for our door prizes. The winner of the write-in parts attended with two of the three daughters who purchased it as a gift for their mother. (The other daughter is a veterinarian who was on call and had to perform an emergency surgery.) I saw friends I hadn't seen for awhile. Both of my adult sons were able to attend to support me. We sold books and I went home exhausted but pleased.

This first time was special for me and I guess Christine and C.L. had a great time also, because we've decided to do it again next year for St. Patrick's Day. Seconds, anyone?

Have you written a story for an anthology? What did you think of the process? How about books in your to-be-read stack or on your e-reader? Do those books include anthologies? Do you have a preference for shorter stories or full-length novels?

To checkout the Anthology visit Rouge Phoenix Press.

Not bad for a recluse

I have to admit, I LOVE staying home, only rolling into town to nab some groceries and hurry home again.

But I spent the weekend hanging out in Portland,OR. First, Friday afternoon and evening shopping with a friend. I handed her colorful, hip clothes to try on and she came away with one blue shirt that looks like all the other ones in her closet! LOL I couldn't get her to change her style or color habits. We had dinner in a crowded restaurant and wondered about the relationship between the couple at the table next to us and listened in to conversations all around us. Fodder for characters in stories.

Then on Saturday we rode the MAX transit system to downtown Portland to attend the Rose City RWA chapter Reader's Luncheon. ON the trip both there and back we again had some interesting discussions about some of the people we encountered. Especially the brave soul who admitted to the whole car he wasn't an American citizen, yet began preaching about America's salvation amid many people's protests. It was amazing how he kept his cool and kept on talking while others hurled unsavory words at him. Then was the girl who would have been beautiful if not for the piercings in her dimples. And the interesting older man and younger girl who appeared to be having a quarrel. My thoughts were father and daughter. When he got up and moved half a car length from her, she fought to keep the tears from falling.

The luncheon was held in the Governor Hotel in downtown Portland. The ballroom is the perfect spot to hold a romance event. The tall ceiling with ornate architecture is beautiful. The speaker this year was Lucy Monroe. She was fun and witty as well thought provoking. A book signing was held with a portion of the proceeds going to the Portland literacy fund. There were several of the Mid-Willamette Valley members there: Lisa Catto, Sarah McDermd, Donna Kiehle, and authors Christine Young, Genene Valleau, and Elisabeth Naughton. It was great to see an old chapter member Rosemary Indra who is published now. And visit with the many Portland chapter members I've met through the years. As always, being around other authors no matter what the occasion I feel like I get rejuvenated.

And was happy I left my reclusive life for a weekend.

Don't forget to hop over to Romantic Ramblings to see what the Author Question is this week and leave a comment to get in the drawings.

My usual third Tuesday of the month blog at the Cactus Rose blog will be on Thursday. I changed with another blogger. And I'll be blogging at Seduced by History on Friday.