A Maverick Year, or my book comes out tomorrow, but I’m writing about something else entirely.

I’m pretty sure that on the day before your book comes out you’re not supposed to be blogging about a work-in-progress, but I’m having what I like to call a maverick year over here, so I’ll just do what I want.

(A maverick year, for the record, means I have blogged once in a year’s time. That’s my story and I’m sticking with it.)

I was in Portland, Maine, this weekend, for about 24 hours. Unremarkable, really, since I live about two hours from Portland, and have dear friends there who feed me and let me sleep in their house. These same friends own Rising Tide Brewing Company, which is the relevant (and remarkable–because how awesome is that?) part.

I’ve probably mentioned this before, but some years ago on a similar visit to Portland, it was suggested to me by someone that brewing wasn’t sexy in the romance novel kind of way. I like gauntlets, so I pick up the shiny ones and take them home to mull over. Sometimes, shiny gauntlets get turned over so often, they end up resembling drafts of novels about a brewer and an actress, and they are set in Portland.

Now I find myself, on the eve of SWEET PEASE’s publication, pondering a delicious Pilsner I tasted over the weekend, one I completely coincidentally named my story after. Or one they completely coincidentally named after my yet-to-be published book. Either way.

I can’t wait to hear what everyone thinks of my return to Thornton and Kate Pease, but know that I’ve been hard at work on book three there, and this new thing, too.

I hope y’all are ready for more words, because I’m ready to give them to you.

And if you haven’t already: Click the image below to get your copy (print or Kindle!) of Sweet Pease, available Tuesday, November 14, 2017.


Sneaky Peeks

You know that feeling that you’ve run out of things to share?

No? Just me, then?

I’ve got some irons in the writerly fire, but they’re still pretty far from Kindles and bookshelves. I want to share, to invite you all in for a peek at the process, but it gets trickier the longer I’m in this to figure out if I should share early draft work, or just keep it all close until it’s ready go. Performance anxiety, I suppose.

Anyway, my friend Renee at Elsetime & Otherwhen has done that thing where she tagged people to share a specific bit of random draft-in-progress, and because she is Renee, I shall comply. And as penance, because I won’t be tagging anyone else (lazy, lazy, me)…

Bonus! Below are seven lines (give or take – my Scrivener files aren’t set up in pages or lines) from the seventh pages of both my current drafts.

…from Sweet Pease:

[Anneliese] blinked. “Is that a new Reed Sharpe novel? I don’t read him, but my h— my ex-husband did. Your books are more my type. I read The Orchard Gate when I was in the hospital after Chloe was born, and the nurses recommended a therapist because I was always crying. I finally gave them my copy to convince them.”

Ewan poured milk into his coffee, his eyes flicking nervously from the billows of dairy to Anneliese’s blue eyes as she spoke.

“And I’m babbling. I’m so sorry,” she finished with a small laugh.

The little girl — Chloe — clutched a strip of toast and peered into his face from across the table. “Did you bring the blue ox baby?”

He smiled in spite of himself. She was a beautiful child, and funny, especially since she didn’t know it yet. “No, Chloe. Babe stayed in New York for the semester.”

…and from Back Cove:

[Jessica’s] bungalow at the Fairmont Miramar was draining her savings at an alarming rate, but Jessica had needed a place to land after New Mexico and she was certain Cort wouldn’t be inviting her back after the Beverly Hills party and the incident with the Maserati in his swimming pool.

She stopped at the concierge’s desk on her way through the lobby. Peering out from under a pair of huge sunglasses and a faded Portland Seadogs cap, she pitched her voice deliberately high. “Any messages?”

The concierge caught her eye knowingly and produced two envelopes. “This arrived today, Miss Granger.”

I can make no hard promises about release dates, but I am eternally optimistic for early 2016 for at least one of them. While you’re waiting, though, don’t forget to pick up your free copy of Damselfly Inn!

Dinner with Aunt Barrie

“The work upstairs?” Barrie paused mid-forkful. “Matt Bailey did that.”

Jessica felt like Barrie was testing her, daring her to ask who Matt Bailey was. “I’ll bite. Who’s Matt Bailey?”

“The young man who’s leased your Uncle Rand’s building.” Barrie chewed and swallowed her meatloaf. “He started a brewery there.” Her watery green eyes sparkled.

“Matt Bailey: Brewer and Carpenter. Does he do loaves and fishes, too?” Jessica heard the snark in her tone and cringed inwardly.

Barrie didn’t seem to notice. “He’s very kind. I was renting the loft to him until I invited you to stay, sweetie. He’s been taking care of the house and the lawn for me for about six months now.”

“You had some guy just living here?” She sounded shrill.

“Jessica Lynn Landry.” Barrie set her fork down on her plate with a loud clink. “I will not be spoken to in that tone.”

Jessica felt her face slip into the defiant glare she’d worn through her teenage years. Then she saw mirth rise in Barrie’s eyes. Jessica’s cheeks flushed deep scarlet. “I’m sorry.”

Barrie resumed her meal. “I know, Jessie. You’re just looking out for me, but I need to you to remember I’ve been on my own now for a while, and I like to think that after eighty-seven years on the planet, I’ve got a handle on judging character.”

“I was out of line, Aunt Barrie.”

“You were, but I love you too much to let a little thing like sass over meatloaf get in the way.” She scraped her last forkful through a smear of piccalillli. “Maybe I’ll have Matthew around for dinner one of these nights, and you can see for yourself he’s not an axe murderer.”


Write On Edge: Red-Writing-HoodEven if you’re not participating in NaNoWriMo, there’s something special about something new. You have 300 words this week to write about something new: a new character, the beginning of a new story, a new pair of shoes. Your piece can be fiction or creative non-fiction.

I am doing NaNoWriMo, and this is a short excerpt from the early pages.

If you haven’t picked up a copy of Buck’s Landing, the first in this connected series of romances, this is the week to do it. I’m donating a portion of the proceeds from all sales to benefit a family rebuilding their savings and adoption fund. Recent political developments in Washington are the first step, but my friends have a long road ahead to truly hold equality in their hands.