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Writing and Cake

Today I’m welcoming my very first blog guest ever, my good friend and debut author, Robyn Thomas! Take it away, Robyn….

Thanks Maisey for inviting me here to guest post today. I’m going to combine two of my favourite topics together and talk about writing and cake.

Have you ever been asked to do something that’s completely reasonable and yet found yourself wanting to refuse on principle? There you are, casually baking up a storm in your kitchen, anticipating the batch of rock cakes you’ve got planned, when someone says: “How about whipping up a light-as-air sponge instead?”
You’re in your kitchen. The oven’s on. You have the time, the ingredients and a basic recipe. So what’s the problem?

In my case the problem was that I don’t usually follow a traditional recipe. I’m a hands-on, learn-by-doing kind of person, and I was almost sure that my first dozen sponges would be flops. Knowing that there were people* waiting with empty plates, ready to enjoy the first sponge the moment it was out of the oven, made it doubly hard for me to start. *my “people” was really just one eager editor, but it felt like a cast of thousands at the time!

My cakes as you might’ve guessed were books – hot ones and sweet ones – and I wanted nothing more than to keep writing in the same style I’d grown accustomed to. I’d developed a few skills and every internal alarm I had was warning against turning my back on those fledgling skills. The idea of embarking on a new project with such little chance of success messed with my head, but I didn’t want to waste an opportunity, and I certainly wasn’t about to admit that I couldn’t do it.

I had plenty of doubts but I’m happy to report that I did (eventually) prevail in the kitchen. My debut book His Unexpected Family started its life as one of those experimental sponge cakes. I never would have written it without prompting, and it’s interesting to note that whilst I decided sponge cakes weren’t really for me, I never went back to the rock cakes, either. I took a good, long look at the ingredients to hand and made a new plan. Does anyone like sinfully rich, dark chocolate cake with gooey buttercream icing? My Dec Indulgence will be another sponge – with a rock star – and my March 2013 Indulgence, Anything Goes, is definitely a chocolate cake kind of book.

One lucky commenter will win a copy of Robyn’s current release, His Unexpected Family!

Sometimes you have to take the leap…again.
Newly widowed with a new baby, Ren Jamieson is putting her life back together after her thrill-seeking husband’s death. But when she’s called to show a high-end property to a prospective client—a commission she desperately needs—she meets a man who makes her pulse pound like nothing she’s ever known…
Cole Matthews is more than he seems. Real estate is only part of the reason he’s in Australia – the other is to see Ren, and make amends somehow for the life lost. The last thing Cole expects is a woman whose humor, sweetness and sexiness give him a rush greater than any he’s ever experienced…
Torn between her growing feelings for Cole and the risks of loving yet another adventurer, Ren will have to choose between keeping her feet on the ground…and taking the most dangerous leap of her life.

Purchase from Barnes&Noble and Amazon

About Robyn Thomas

Robyn is a cheesecake connoisseur, caffeine addict, and mother of two boys. Happily married, she lives in Melbourne, Australia. Writing romance helps her balance the effects of living in an all-male household. Robyn loves movies, art glass and browsing in quirky gift shops.

For more information, please visit http://EntangledPublishing.com.

For more information on Robyn Thomas, please visit her website or follow her on Twitter and Goodreads

RWA: The Rest of the Story

So, I had an epic RWA conference. But I had to sit on parts of the epic until it was okay for me to spill it. Some people (a lot of them…) who were at RWA know this already.

On the first official day, when registration was opened up, I was standing down by the booth with my massive bag of books, in a circle of several authors and first time conference attendees. And my phone, which I had in my name badge, buzzed. It didn’t ring because that part of the hotel had a little dead zone for my phone (this, FYI, was sort of the story of conference for me. No matter how close I kept my phone, I kept missing important phone calls.)

Anyway, I dashed to the end of the hall to check my voice mail. It was from my agent Helen Breitwieser.

She was calling to tell me that we had had sold two books and a linked novella to Berkley! It’s a series, set in Silver Creek, Oregon, a town I made up that is populated by sexy cowboys. (I know, handy that, right?) The books will be out next Summer, more details to come!

Now, the fact that I was writing cowboy books in my spare time (otherwise known as Super Sekrit Projekt and Baby Super Sekrit Projekt) is basically the world’s worst kept secret thanks to my occasional posting of shirtless men in tight jeans and Stetsons. You. Are. Welcome.

I have so much to say about the process of writing the book, the process of selling it, but I think I’ll save it for another post because I’m just too excited to get to share this right now.

But I’ll tell you a little about the books. They are spicy small town romances injected with a hefty dose of humor. And…shirtless guys in tight jeans and Stetsons. (yeah, you’re welcome)

And I have to give a big thank you to my agent, Helen, who believed in the series concept from the moment I pitched them to her clumsily over an early breakfast at RWA in New York. (This story began at conference too, which I think makes it all the better.)

I owe a big thank you to Katherine Pelz at Berkley who read the book and liked it.

I also owe a big thanks to Lisa Hendrix for pushing me to write a longer book in the first place, even though I started out dragging my heels and kicking and screaming.

I’m still writing for Presents, so you will still have angsty alpha males from me. You’ll just also have cowboy alpha males. 🙂

I Have Returned!!

Michelle Willingham and I on the first day!
I was in Anaheim for a week and a half, first for RWA Nationals, then for a Disneyland vacation with my family. It seems like forever since I’ve sat down at a computer and done any writing!! But, the good thing about the break is that I’m back and ready to tackle the mini Prequel to my upcoming series The Call of Duty. (I am breaking my record for most double entendres in the first five pages of a manuscript.)

It was nice to see my writing buddies. The Presents author crew, Michelle Willingham, Lisa Hendrix (who I see all the time, but this week I saw her in Anaheim!) Barbara Wallace, Donna Alward…so many awesome people! I also FINALLY met Emma Peterson, who I cyber met two years ago on Twitter when she gave me my first piece of reader feedback.

This year I got to go to Disneyland with Jennie Lucas (my roomie for the conference!) a group of wonderful Historical authors (all the better to fangirl!) and the Mills and Boon editors. Pictured are Jennie Lucas, Me, Lucy Gilmour, Michelle Willingham, Katy Madison, Julia Justiss, Cara Elliott, Bryony Green, Blythe Gifford, Fiona Harper and Tessa Shapcott. 

It was a lot of fun, so nice to experience Disneyland with a crew of Disney virgins! (Though, because if the pending Presents Secret Baby poor Lucy had to skip a few rides!)

Jane Porter hosted her annual conference tea at a gorgeous resort in Newport Beach. Seriously, it was the most Presents place I’ve ever seen in my life! I think one of my heroes might have owned it.

Then there was the keynote lunch. There was flan. Jennie Lucas and I, in our eminent sophistication and maturity, made faces for our flan. Here’s mine. He had a carrot mustache.

Also, conference can make you tense. So, helpfully, D’Leon was there giving massages. Here’s an unnamed Harlequin Historical author making the most of his magic hands.

And we can’t forget the Harlequin Party, which this year featured a cupcake bar! And, my husband came as my date. The lovely Victoria Dahl took our picture for us.

One of the most romantic moments may have happened between Sarah Morgan and a little statue called RITA. We think this may have actually been the first time a Presents won a RITA! Sarah won for the amazing Doukakis’s Apprentice, and it was hugely well deserved. Sarah was one of my greatest inspirations when I was reading Presents and starting to think I wanted to write them. I’m so thrilled for her, beyond. The room seemed to explode when her name was called, it was just incredible!

And the second most romantic moment was quite possible between my daughter and Chip. Really, she fell in love with that little chipmunk!

Yet again, I had a wonderful, defining conference and I’m SO glad that I went.

Conference Bound

I’m getting on a plane (a very small plane!!) this afternoon and flying down to Anaheim for the RWA convention. I’m very excited!

My week is packed wall to wall with amazing business related things. (but first…I go to Disneyland!) This is a chance to catch up with the editors from the UK office (who I adore!) and to have some sit-down time with my agent (who I also love). It’s so valuable to get to spend a little one-on-one in-person time with people you mainly work with virtually.

Of course, it’s not all work. It’s shoes. And getting to meet with awesome author friends. I love that. Because so often people who are outside of the writing sphere look at you like you make them nervous when you talk writing, and writer’s conventions are full of people just WAITING to talk to you about internal conflict! It’s easy to strike up a conversation in this environment…a simple, Hi, I’m Maisey, what do you write? Will get the ball rolling nicely!

IF you’re coming to the conference, or even just the lit signing portion, do come and see me!

I have books and RTCs with me for the week that I’m giving away (the books will go fast!) they’re my August and October releases so if you track me down you’ll be way ahead of the curve!

Shall update you all when I get back, which won’t be for a while since my gorgeous family is coming to meet me for Disney time after conference is over. (more Disney for me! Yay!)

Hopefully I’ll have lots of news to share when I get back!

A Game of Vows and the Bad Girl Heroine

Clara couldn’t stop her mouth from dropping open. “You were going to do business on your honeymoon?”

“Hannah had some work to do as well. Time doesn’t stop just because you get married.”

“No wonder she left you at the altar.” She regretted the words the moment they left her mouth. “Sorry. I didn’t mean that.”

“You did, and that’s fine. Unlike you, Hannah had no romantic illusions, you can trust me on that. Her reasons for not showing up today may very well have had something to do with a Wall Street crisis. There’s actually a good chance she’s at her apartment, in her wedding gown, screaming obscenities at her computer screen watching the cost of grain go down.”

She had to concede that the scenario was actually almost plausible. Hannah was all icy cool composure, and generally nice and polite, until someone crossed her in the corporate world. Clara had overheard the other woman’s phone conversations become seriously cutthroat in tense business situations. Threats of removal of tender body parts had crossed her lips without hesitation.

She sort of admired her for it. For the the intense way she went after what she wanted. She’d done it with Zack. It had been sort of awe inspiring to watch. Mostly it had been awe-inspiringly depressing. Because Clara wasn’t cutthroat, or intense. And she hadn’t been brave enough to pursue what she really wanted. She’d never been brave enough to pursue Zack.

The above is where we first ‘meet’ Hannah Weston, even though we don’t actually meet her. But she’s introduced in One Night in Paradise…or rather, not introduced since she never shows up at her own wedding. When I wrote One Night in Paradise, I wondered what had happened to Hannah. Yes, she sent Zack a text while he was in Thailand with Clara to say she’d fallen in love with someone else. But I didn’t buy it. Hannah wasn’t that soft, or that romantic. I just knew she wasn’t.

By the time I realized I had to write Hannah’s book, One Night in Paradise was finalized. There were things about Hannah that were set in stone, things I couldn’t change. She was the skinny blonde other woman. She was ruthless. She was planning on marrying Zack for status and business. She could curse proficiently enough to make a sailor blush.

So that was Hannah. But I needed to know why this woman, who was marrying Zack for personal gain, would back out.

So this is why…

Hannah Weston swore as she tripped over the hem of her wedding dress, her focus diverted by the scrolling numbers on the screen of her smart phone. She’d said she wouldn’t work today. She’d lied.
The exchange was closed today, but she had a lead and she needed to chase it up before she made her vows. She had clients depending on her. And he would never know.

She dropped into the limo, her eyes still trained on her phone as she gathered her dress up into a satin ball and pulled it inside, slamming the door behind her.

“Going to the chapel?”

Hannah froze, her blood turning to ice as the limo pulled away from the curb and mainstreamed into the San Francisco traffic. That voice. She knew that voice.

She couldn’t look up, her eyes still set on her phone. She curled her fingers more tightly around the heavy fabric of her wedding gown wedding gown, as she took a breath and raised her gaze, locking with dark, intense eyes in the rear view mirror.

She knew those eyes too. No one had eyes like him. They seemed to cut through you, possessing the ability to read your innermost secrets. Able to mock and flirt in a single glance. She still saw those eyes in her dreams. And sometimes her nightmares.

Eduardo Vega. One of the many skeletons in her closet. Except, he wasn’t staying put.
“And I’m going to get married,” she said tightly. She didn’t get intimidated. She did the intimidating. Back in NY she’d had more guts than any man on the trading room floor. She’d had Wall Street by the balls. And now, she was a force to be reckoned with in the world of finance. She didn’t do fear.

“Oh, I don’t think so, Hannah. Not today. Unless you’re interested in getting arrested for bigamy.”

She sucked in a sharp breath. “I am not a bigamist.”

“You aren’t single.”

“Yes, I am. The paperwork was…”

“Never filed. If you don’t believe me, do some research on the matter.”

So Ms. Hannah has some skeletons in her closet. And Eduardo is only one of them. Hannah is the female counterpart to a lot of the heroes I’ve written. While Eduardo was born with status and money, Hannah had to claw her way up from a poverty and neglect. And she was willing to do it by any means necessary. She was smart, she was determined, and she bent the traditional definitions of right and wrong to change her position in life.

In contrast, Eduardo had it all from moment one, only to have it stolen from him after sustaining terrible head trauma in an accident. Since then, his business has been in decline. And he needs Hannah, not only to bring it back from the brink, but to remind him of the man he used to be.

Eduardo is seriously alpha. But so is Hannah. And the clash between these two was epic and so much fun for me to write. Hannah doesn’t hesitate to go for the jugular in a fight, and honestly, Eduardo and I wouldn’t have it any other way.

So if you’re down with a hero searching for a new place in the world and a way to work with his new limitations, while becoming a better man than he was before, and a heroine with serious dirt in her past looking for a chance to have love for the first time in her life…well, A Game of Vows might be for you. 🙂 Coming to the UK in October.

Superbad Sheikh and Bringing the Light Into the Dark

I received word from my editor today that my 16th Presents is all signed off on. Superbad Sheikh (title TBC!), the first book in a duet all about powerful men getting some unexpected bundles of joy, has gotten final approval! I’m so pleased, because it was a bear of a book to write.

In fact, the past few books I’ve written have been hugely ebil in terms of having super dark conflicts. It gets a little eeeeuuuccchh to write after a while.

Before Superbad there was Mr. Personality (now titled Her Little White Lie) and he was no better. He may have been worse. He was tormented by an extremely (EXTREMELY) traumatic event in his childhood and it altered his ability to relate to people, to emotion and even pain, on a normal level.

Getting in the heads of these super tortured heroes, with tragedies in their past that make MY skin crawl, isn’t easy. I actually started weeping (seriously weeping, not just tearing up) writing Mr. Personality and I had to close the doc and walk away for a while. And I felt annoyed because I honestly didn’t want to write what I was writing. It was yucky, and sad and I hated having to try and pull the emotion out of myself to find a way to convey it on the page. In the end though, I’m glad I did.

But the thing with this kind of darkness in a book, is that you need light to punctuate it. Otherwise, your readers eyes just adjust, so to speak, and I think you lose a lot of the impact. And all that snot crying over your keyboard is wasted.

In college I futzed away some credits taking Creative Writing for three terms. The most important thing I learned in that class was how I didn’t want to act (read: self-important, self-aggrandizing weirdo with personal space issues). But there were other things.

I still remember I brought in some pages and I had written a scene where the two main characters were standing out on the porch. It was dark, the porch light was on. My prof stood up and flailed and said “Excellent way of bringing the light into the darkness!” And I thought…It’s not a metaphorical porch light. It’s a literal porch light, and they had it on because they wanted to be able to see. She thought it was symbolism. I went with it.

But, here’s the thing. As silly as that whole moment was, there is a lot of truth in the concept. Bringing an element of light into a dark book, breaking things up, allowing the reader a moment to catch their breath, a moment to laugh instead of just feeling miserable, is important.

My method of adding light is to add humor. I like to have banter in a book. I like to have moments that (hopefully!) make people laugh out loud. In the case of Superbad Sheikh, the heroine, who has a lighter perspective in general, forces my hero to develop a bit of a sense of humor.

Or in the case of Mr. Personality…some gold glitter on a custom made suit served up a little bit of a break.

The point of this isn’t to undermine the drama, quite the opposite, it’s to lull your reader into a false sense of security so you can really deliver a shocking death blow…erm. I mean…it’s to give your reader a break. Like I said, your eyes adjust to the dark, but if you turn on the light for a bit, being plunged into darkness gets its drama back.

Unsurprisingly, Joss Whedon said it best:  “Make it dark, make it grim, make it tough, but then, for the love of God, tell a joke.”

In other words…turn on a porch light.

Seeing the Potential

This is going to be heavy handed and symbolic, so apologies in advance for that. But truthfully, right now, my husband and I are in the process of buying our first real grown up house.

It’s one of those things that I look at with equal parts excitement and fear. Because there are a lot of things about it that are wonderful. (I have included a picture of the view and kitchen for an example of the wonderful) But there are things about it that are disastrous (see the green 70s wallpaper).

We did our inspection today and what we got was…well, it was a lot like a revision letter for the house. No major structural damage, nothing beyond fixing. But there are some problems that will have to be addressed before the bank will loan on it. From missing steps off the back door, to fallen rain gutters and some bathroom fixtures that are leaking. Then there are the cosmetic issues. They aren’t the worst, but they represent a lot of work.

If the bad outweighed the good, the house probably wouldn’t be worth saving. Even if we could somehow buy it with cash and bypass the banks, if the house was filled with termites and the structure was caving in on itself, it wouldn’t be worth it in the end. At the same time though, even though there’s a lot of good as it is, we can’t move into it RIGHT NOW, either.

It needs revising. But the house revisions aren’t really a bad thing. We have the chance to take something good and make it awesome. The potential is there, but it will take some work to get it there.

You’re probably nine steps ahead of where I’m going with this, but me being me, I couldn’t help but apply these thoughts I was having about the house to my writing.

Often, well, every time in some capacity or another, my editor returns my MS to me with a list of improvements I could make to have it be in top condition. I’ve come to the conclusion at this point that it does no good to fear the revisions, or to even try to avoid them. (I’ve only written a ‘turn key’ MS once. 😉 )

The thing with looking at houses is, it’s easy to see them with rose colored glasses. To miss all the work that needs to be done because you’re too close to it. It’s like MSs that way. 😉 But just because work needs to be done, that doesn’t mean you walk away.

It also doesn’t mean you turn to the inspector and say THIS IS OUTRAGEOUS, SIR! WHAT DO YOU MEAN THERE IS NO TRIM ON ANY OF THE DOORS? CLEARLY THERE IS TRIM! (um…there isn’t.)

There’s a point where emotion has to be somewhat separated from the work, or the house. I say somewhat, because you have to care enough to put the work in.

If an editor is giving you revisions, even a rejection with revisions or tips for future MSs, it means they saw good in there. Enough good that they took the time to tell you what you could do differently. That’s the kind of thing you don’t just brush off. Your house is worth fixing. 😉 And it’s better to fix it than it is to move in to a jacked up place with fallen rain gutters.

In the end, it’s the MSs that made me work hardest that I’m most proud of. It’s the ones that I had to labor over, make mistakes with, curse at and cry on, that I’m the most happy with.

There’s a lot of work ahead for us with the house. I’m hoping that, in the end, it follows the MS principle and becomes something even more valuable because of the fact that WE did the work. That we fought to make it the best it could be.

Don’t be afraid to revise. Don’t look at revisions given to you by an editor and feel insulted. Instead, roll up your sleeves and bring that MS up to its full potential. 🙂

Epic Fun Release Time *Kermit Flail*

^ That about sums it up!

I have two books officially out in the UK at midnight tonight: A Royal World Apart and Princess From the Shadows (Book 6 in the Santina Crown Collection). I really get a kick out of the fact that these books are out at the same time. Because, as I’ve mentioned, A Royal World Apart is the home of Untouched Hero, while Princess From the Shadows features the biggest, most shameless playboy I’ve ever written. (Hot Rod! It’s Hot Rod!!!)

They’ll also be releasing really close together in the US, with Hot Rod on shelves in October and Untouched Her coming to you in December.

I got it in my head last Summer that I really wanted to write a virgin hero for Presents. And once the idea was there, I couldn’t get rid of it. It was just a matter of finding out who this man with amazing restraint was, and what his reasons were. All it took was a little twitter conversation with Caitlin Crews and Paula Graves to find out. (Which is why the book is dedicated to both of them, as well as to my editor, for following along with my crazy ideas and never flinching.)

Interestingly, in a lot of ways, I found it easier to write Mak, who had never had sex, than I did writing Rodriguez, who had a lot of it. Often and for recreation, and then walked away still friends with his lovers. Once I got into Rodriguez’s head though, I found that writing a playboy can be a lot of fun. He’s charming, he says what he wants, he does what he wants, and that gave me a lot of freedom where he was concerned. I also loved the idea that he’d created this world around him, filled with the most superficial sorts of fun, and that Carlotta got to come in and tear it down brick by brick and force him to be the one thing he really feared having to be: real.

When Rodriguez comes to the palace in Santina to claim his bride, he finds out she’s run off with another man. And the disgraced Princess Carlotta is brought in as a suitable replacement! But Carlotta comes with a son, and that’s something Rodriguez never counted on. And he really didn’t count on the feelings that both Carlotta and Luca force him to face.

As for Mak? He was bound up so tight in honor that it took a princess looking for a little rebellion to get him to loosen up. And she does.

Princess Evangelina Drakos is trying to put off the suitors that are vying for her hand. And if that means creating some scandal, she’s all for it. But her brand new body guard Makhail Nabatov isn’t having any of that. Unfortunately for Mak, as disgusted as he is by the princess’s behavior, he finds he’s drawn to her in a way that he can’t deny. But he has to, because Eva is promised to another man, and Mak is sworn to protect her. Even if that means protecting her from himself.

So, if you’re in the UK, look for A Royal World Apart and Princess From the Shadows in stores. Or stay in your PJs and get it for your Kindle or other reading device!

As for you people in North America…my August release Hajar’s Hidden Legacy (BEAST SHEIKH!!!) will be available from Harlequin.com at midnight tonight in both print and ebook. And it will be available in wide release August first, on shelves and on your readers. 😉

This is my Beauty and the Beast story. Although, he doesn’t take Princess Katharine captive so much as she moves into his palace, and he can’t make her leave for fear of creating an international incident. She’s determined to make him honor a marriage bargain struck years ago, and he’s determined to be left alone to lick his wounds and hide his scars in peace.

But Katharine’s not having any of that. 😉 If you like a wounded, scarred hero and a strong heroine, you might like this one.

So that’s part of my epic release run I have happening in the next few months!

We’re also knee deep in the process of buying a house (they put a pending sign up over the old for sale sign the other day, that was pretty exciting!) and we have a close date set for just three days before I leave for the RWA conference! Then after that we’re attempting our first BIG GRAND FAMILY VACATION. The whole family is meeting me in Anaheim midway through the week, and we’re going to spend the week following RWA getting our Mickey Mouse on.

So, it’s a crazy summer ahead to be sure!

Good thing I have all these heroes to keep me company, right? (Well, and Haven, the real life hero. Always him! But Beast Sheikh, Hot Rod and Untouched Hero do NOT hurt my feelings!)

My Thoughts on Writing As a Job

It’s hard to write posts about time management. It’s hard to write posts about process, and how to get things done. Why? Because everyone is different. What’s manageable for me is not manageable for everyone. My way of doing things will not work for a lot of people because…well, they aren’t me.

So I’m going to throw some stuff out here, and it won’t ring true for all of you. That’s okay. It doesn’t have to. 😉 Don’t feel like there’s anything wrong with you. Or me. Well, there may be something wrong with me. Keep that in mind.

Jackie Ashenden was talking about time management on her blog, and that’s partly what inspired this. Also, the lovely Victoria James mentioned something on twitter. 😉 *shouts out*

I love to write, it’s my passion, so don’t take what I’m about to say the wrong way. I work writing like a job. Like a real job. No, not 9-5, that’s not what I mean, what I mean is, I don’t let myself say ‘eh, I don’t feel like it today.’ Because when I had jobs outside my house, that wasn’t a valid excuse.

*rings boss* Hi, I’m not coming in today.

Boss: Why?

Me: Can’t be bothered.

Boss: You’re fired.

Me: Oh, yeah you’re probably right.

*end scene*

See? See how that would go?? Not well, my friends, not well.

But in my mind, it’s okay to not feel like writing. And it’s okay that you make yourself do it anyway. You know what else I think is okay? Loving what you’ve done. I don’t think there’s anything wrong with having moments of loving your work. I think you should. I don’t think it’s ego to feel a sense of pride over your accomplishments, or to be happy with what you’ve achieved. As a writer, we’re asking an editor or agent to believe in our books. We’re asking readers to spend money on them. It seems only right that we should, at some stage, like our work.

My other thought on writing as a job is that it’s okay to have goals. Heck, you should have goals. And aspirations. And you should absolutely reach for those goals. Aim high, aim in lots of places. Or don’t. The thing is, it’s your career. No one else is living it or working it for you, so they can’t tell you if your goals are right or wrong. They may have advice, and it’s good to listen to people who have experience in the industry. However, ultimately, you have to happy with your choices.

You’re not in a competition with your fellow writers. You aren’t. And that attitude, IMO, leads to a bitter and skeery environment. Someone else doesn’t have to fail for you to succeed. (unless you’re in the olympics or you’re like a…trial lawyer…there my analogy might fall apart.) Also, someone else’s success doesn’t steal bits of shiny from yours.

You can’t win the guilt game. That’s something Jackie was saying on her blog. You sort of have to learn to just exist with your guilt. I firmly believe that if I didn’t feel guilty about writing, I would feel guilty about *something*. I know because before I wrote, when I was a SAHM, I felt guilty all the time. Now I just feel guilty about different things. I can’t beat it, so I just can’t let it eat me alive. My writing is making it possible for us to buy our first house so…take that, guilt.

You really do have to manage your time. My husband’s schedule isn’t consistent. That means we’re in a constant puzzle game to see when I can work. This week he was starting work at noon a couple of days, so I decided to get up at 6:30 and meet my word count goal by 11:00. And I managed it. I’m tired, but I managed to get my words in before noon every day so far this week. (And it’s Wednesday, so…three days. Yay.) But I had to make that time. I had to remind myself “hey, you set a goal, get your butt in your chair and DO IT.

This goal setting game I play is how I beat the procrastination game. I was, way back when, a procrastinator. I wrote papers the night before they were due all through college. And when I got my first set of deadlines in a book contract I thought…I don’t ever want to do college again.

It sucked. I had heartburn, my work was never as good as it could have been, and I would spend weeks dreading the work and putting it off. NO, I vowed that would not be me for the rest of my life.

Now, I’m very competitive and easily fooled, so goal setting and fake deadline setting WORKS for me. Because if I don’t make them? I LOSE. I’m playing a game against ME and I want to WIN darn it all. Must win! Because I don’t like to miss deadlines, and honestly, my created ones work well enough to inspire that Under The Gun feeling.

I think the bottom line is, figure out your system that works for you. This is all working for me now, my goals make me happy now. It may change, and if it does, I have to be open to that change.

For now though..I have a word count goal to go hit. 😉

On Linked Books and a Superbad Sheikh

So this week, I’m busy. It seems like the last few weeks I haven’t been so much, at least not with writing. I had everything out and when everything is out…well, you can start something else, but I knew I would be working on this year’s continuity when the bible came in and that could be at any time, which meant I was reluctant to start anything else.

But NOW I am not suffering from a lack of things to do! I got the continuity bible on Friday and I am…I am SO excited about it. There’s a wonderful challenge involved in taking two characters that are given to you and finding a way to make then and their story yours. So I got a start on that. Then on Monday I got revisions for Superbad Sheikh (you may remember him!)

Mr. SS is the first hero in another duet that I’m working on for 2013. More on that in a moment.

Then yesterday, as I was about to start my revisions I got AAs for my January UK book Her Little White Lie, also known as Mr. Personality. I’m thrilled to have so many fun things to do, but the hard thing is, I don’t want to put ANY of them off so I’m sort of pinging in all directions.

Superbad is my priority though. I’m working at torturing him a bit more, you see, as a loving author does. This story came about in an interesting way. I had an idea quite a while back where I wanted to figure out another way to do a pregnancy story with a bit of a twist, like in An Accidental Birthright, I had a thought about a sheikh…and a surrogate.

But I hadn’t gotten around to writing it, because the idea was just sort of a germ in the back of my mind, and I had a whole lot of other books to write first! But then when I went back to contract this time, my editor asked if I would do another duet, like my upcoming The Call of Duty series. (A Royal World Apart and At His Majesty’s Request) (This post is getting filled with ALL THE TITLES. I fear I’m getting confusing)

I said I would LOVE to write another duet! (because I would!) And she asked that they share a common theme: secret babies.

And I have had FUN playing with this. I’ll be honest, I didn’t think I would at first. I was not excited to figure out how to do that theme two times in a row. And so I emailed my editor and asked her: Would this count? Would this count? She said: secret baby can mean whatever you want it to.

*rubs hands together*

But by the time I’d finished outlining both books, I was feeling excited. Which brings us back to the surrogate and the superbad sheikh.

My heroine agreed to be the surrogate to the sheikh and sheikha, but when they’re killed in an accident, the heroine is left holding a baby she never planned to keep. And my hero has to assume a position he never wanted, and find out if the tiny heir to the throne really did survive…

In this story, you’ll also meet the hero of the next book in the series. But I have to wait a bit to write his book now as the continuity book calls! But you get a hint: Tattooed, Russian ex-mercenary.

Okay, now I have to flee back to my writing cave. And I’m bringing all the marshmallow cereal and coffee with me.

Princess From the Shadows: Hot Rod!

Stop the Press: Santina’s Secret Baby Scandal!

Santina’s royal palace officials were tight-lipped about claims that Prince Rodriguez Anguiano was jilted by his fiancee. But it seems the prince did not leave Santina empty-handed after all!

Princess Carlotta Santina has been living out of the spotlight and under a cloud ever since giving birth to her illegitimate son. Now she’s arriving at Rodriguez’s Spanish palace in preparation for their forthcoming nuptials…

Perhaps the prince should get some new advisors because he’s about to discover that his blushing bride comes with an unexpected bonus!

 Chapter One

“What do you mean she’s gone?” Prince Rodriguez Anguiano looked down at Eduardo Santina, King of Santina, and his future father-in-law, and swore he saw sweat beading on the older man’s brow.

The king was known for being formidable, tough and unbending. Watching him sweat was unexpected. And more than a little bit interesting.

King Eduardo cleared his throat. “Just that. Sophia is gone. She left with a Maharaja.”

Rodriguez felt a smile tug at the corner of his mouth. “A Maharaja? Is being a prince not enough for some women? They feel the need to pursue a more…exotic title?”

King Eduardo’s face darkened, color creeping into his cheeks. “She has done so without my permission.”

“I’m assuming, as my intended fiancee has run away with a Maharaja, the wedding is off?” The king only looked at him and Rodriguez felt a vague sense of relief wash through him. He had been prepared to do the marriage thing, but truly, he hadn’t been looking forward to it. In his estimation it was a ball and chain situation, and he didn’t know anyone who would willingly shackle themselves in that manner. Yet people did seem to get married. It was the heir factor, one he couldn’t ignore forever, but for a while longer, maybe.

Sophia had been pretty enough, a beautiful brunette with a real classic beauty. But even that would get old after a while. Now he could go back to Santa Christobel and celebrate with a blonde. Maybe a redhead. Both. Not that he usually went in for that sort of thing but he’d had six long, unheard or months of celibacy so that he could present his future bride with medical proof of his good health. And now that there would be no wedding, it had just been six months of physical torture.

“Father?”

Rodriguez turned, his ears always tuned in to sultry, feminine tones. But in this instance, the tone did not match the looks. One of Eduardo’s other daughters was standing in the entryway, sleek brown hair hanging just beneath her chin. All no-nonsense and practical, as was the rest of her attire.

Wide leg, beige slacks, a white button-up top and metallic ballet slipper style shoes. She looked like she’d stepped out of the pages of a business casual catalog. She was tall, slim, only a couple inches shorter than he was, and her face was pleasant enough, but with none of the flash and paint he was accustomed to seeing on a woman.

“Sorry,” she said, inclining her head. “I didn’t realize that you were busy.” She turned to go and for some reason, he was sorry to see it.

“Carlotta.”

She paused and turned back again. This time he noticed how green her eyes were. “Yes, father?”

“Stay for a moment.”

Carlotta gave him a brief, icy look before turning her focus back to her father.

“This is Prince Rodriguez Anguiano. Your sister Sophia’s fiance.”

She looked at him again, her expression blank. She was strange, contained, demure almost, and yet he could sense something beneath it. Something she seemed determined not to reveal.

“Charmed,” he said, flashing her a grin. “Though, I don’t know that I’m Sophia’s fiance any longer. As she’s run off with the maharaja.”

Carlotta blinked owlish green eyes at him before shooting her father a worried look. That’s where her emotion was, reserved for the old man. She seemed to fear him. Rodriguez couldn’t even find the slightest but of fear in himself. The king posed no threat to him. A lion who was all roar and no maul. He knew the other kind, the kind who wouldn’t hesitate to tear out your throat. It made it very hard to take a man like Eduardo Santina seriously.

His daughter, on the other hand, seemed to feel differently.

“She did not ‘run off’ with the mahar- with Ashok,” Eduardo said.

“I don’t care if she walked, ran or flew in his private jet. The bottom line is the same. I am out a fiancee, and we, seem to have no more marriage bargain,” Rodriguez countered.

Carlotta shifted on her sensible shoes. “Can I go?”

“No,” her father said.

“I don’t really care what you do,” Rodriguez threw in, mildly amused by the whole situation. What adult woman asked her father for permission to do anything? Obviously not his ex-intended bride, Sophia Santina. But apparently Carlotta Santina was another matter.

Carlotta’s eyes narrowed slightly in his direction, before flickering back to her father. “I need to call Luca before…”

“It can wait, Carlotta. Do me this one favor,” Eduardo bit out roughly.

Carlotta seemed to shrink and Rodriguez felt his stomach turn sour. Dios, but he hated men like that. Men who used their strength, their power, over others like that. Over their own children.

“I’m done here, actually,” Rodriguez said. “If you have no bride for me, I have no reason to stay.” Unless one of the maids is looking to get lucky.

“Tell me, Rodriguez, did you have feelings for Sophia?” Eduardo asked.

“You know I didn’t. I didn’t even know her. I won’t insult either of us by lying.”

“Then it was her name you needed? Not her?”

He could care less who he married so long as she could produce heirs and do a nice royal wave from a balcony. “You know that to be true.”

“Then I do have a bride for you,” Eduardo turned his dark eyes on Carlotta. “You can have Carlotta.”

Carlotta blinked hard and looked from Rodriguez back to her father. She was certain her ears couldn’t be working right, because she had thought she’d heard her father give her away. Like she was a thing. A parting gift for the visiting prince.

Are you shocked? He already believes you gave yourself away.

She shook the thought off and continued to stare at her father, letting the silence fill the room until it became oppressive.

Finally, Rodriguez laughed, a short, harsh sound. “A trade?”

“A way to keep our bargain, Prince Rodriguez.”

Carlotta shook her head, and she knew her eyes were probably comically large in her head. She closed her mouth. She hadn’t realized it had dropped open.

She’d been completely floored by her sister, sweet Sophia, running away from her arranged marriage to Rodrigues, especially as it was so important for Santa Maria and Santa Christobel to forge an alliance. She’d been the first to warn her sister about the unflattering headlines. Princess Sophia Joins the Mile-High Club.

But she hadn’t realized that she would get dragged into the whole debacle. And certainly not to this degree.

Rodriguez flicked her a dismissive glance. “I have no interest in taking a wife who nearly faints at the thought of becoming my bride. I’m certain I can find someone my mere presence does not offend. We have no deal, Eduardo.”

He turned and walked out of the room, leaving Carlotta alone with her father. It was a new kind of silence that filled the room now. One filled with rage, combined with a kind of leaden disappointment that she could feel down in her soul, weighting her, climbing in her throat, threatening to strangle her.

She knew this feeling. Had felt it before. In this very room. In this very spot.

Nearly six years ago she’d been here. In her father’s office. Her knees locked, her feet glued to the carpet, hands clasped tightly in front of her. Her entire body shaking, a cold sweat covering her back, her neck.

I’m pregnant.

They had been the two most terrifying words she’d ever spoken in her life. And directly after them had come the most sickening minute of silence she’d ever endured.

Until now.

“Father I…”

“Carlotta, after all I have done for you,” he said, his voice thick with disappointment, “you cannot do this for me? For your country? You brought so much shame upon us, all of us. The people of Santina, your family.”

“I didn’t…I only came in to tell you that I have to return tonight.” She couldn’t deal with her father’s words. They hurt too badly. They rang too true. “Luca needs me and…and then you throw a prince at me! A marriage proposal. I don’t…” she swallowed, trying to suppress the panic that was starting to rise in her. “What do you expect of me?”

Her father looked down at his hands, folded in front of him on his neat, expansive desk. “I stopped expecting anything spectacular from you years ago, Carlotta. But I did think you still held some sense of responsibility. After you shamed the family as you did…”

Carlotta felt her face grow hot, needles of icy cold rage dotting her cheeks. Luca wasn’t her shame. And he never could be. Even if the press had been determined to make him so.

The Sole Santina Bastard. A favored headline at the time of Luca’s birth. She could only thank God they didn’t know the whole story. That they didn’t know the half of the sins she was capable of committing when she let the hold on her control loosen.

And father is the only reason they don’t.

That brought the guilt. Right on time.

“I paid a lot of money to keep the extent of your shame a secret, Carlotta, and you know that. So that the public wouldn’t know. So your son would never have to know. This is how you repay me? You allow a valuable alliance to fall through the cracks?” He looked up at her, his dark eyes shining, and she felt her stomach tighten. “You were my most beloved daughter. I have always carried the most hope for you. Don’t you think it’s time you attempted to live up to that?”

Anger, sadness, guilt. It all threatened to choke her. As it always did when she spoke with her father. Yet another reason she avoided Santa Maria. Her family. The obligations of being a princess.

Not for the first time, she felt like coming home was a mistake. She didn’t know where she fit anymore. She’d been on the fringes of the glamourous engagement party, not entirely able to join in with her family. Not able to join in with her brother Alessandro’s new in-laws, the Jacksons, and their carefree, crass style of behavior. In a way she almost envied the Jacksons. They didn’t have to worry about how they were perceived. They didn’t seem to worry about anything.

Yes, but you do.

It was easier when she was in her home on the Amalfi Coast. When she was just Carlotta, Luca’s mum.

But that was a dream. A dream she’d escaped to when she’d been pregnant, alone and scared. Heartbroken. Hounded by the press.

She’d been weak then. But she could never have come out of it remaining weak. It was either grow a spine or melt into a puddle and die. And for Luca’s sake, melting had never been a viable option. She’d had to find inner strength, and she’d found it quickly.

Still, facing down her father brought back the girl she’d been. The one who had wanted to please him so badly. Who had only wanted to do right. With everything that was going on, Sophia’s very public fall from grace, Alex’s marriage…maybe it was her chance to grab a little redemption.

“What is the precise nature of your agreement with…with Prince Rodriguez?” she asked, licking her suddenly dry lips.

“Anguiano needs an heir,” said Eduardo. “His father is dying. As good as dead. Incapacitated and in hospital. It’s time for Rodriguez to take the throne of Santa Christobel, and that means a wife.”

“And what’s in it for us? For Santina. I mean, I understand it in a general sense. But if I’m actually going to…marry Prince Rodriguez then I need to know exactly what we stand to gain.”

“Can you imagine it, Carlotta? What such an alliance could bring? Ease for educational programs between the nations. Trade. A valuable ally to stand with should conflict ever arise. All cemented by marriage. Children. It is unfathomable in its value.”

“Gems,” she said softly, a realization washing over her. “They have diamonds. Ruby mines too. A host of other natural resources.”

“It cannot be overlooked. They are a wealthy nation. And that makes them even more valuable. Sophia knew her duty. She has abandoned it. Will you do the same?”

She closed her eyes for a moment, pictured her house on the beach. The quiet. Her son running through the halls with his arms full of stuffed animals that had most definitely seen better days. Things were simpler there. She didn’t have to work so hard to be the Carlotta that she was expected to be. The one she feared deep inside she never truly could be.

But while she had left palace life behind, she hadn’t left her title. She hadn’t truly shed her duty.

That was born into her. A part of her. Even if she had tried to ignore it.

And then there was her father. Who had never given up on her. Not even when she’d let him down, dragged the Santina name through the mud. Put them on par with with the kind of tabloid fodder he despised.

For all the cruel words her family had bandied around about her older brother Alessandro’s future in-laws, the very same could be said about her. It had been said about her, in bold print, on newsstands all around Santina.

Scandalous. Immoral.

Her family had never thrown those words at her, but she knew it had been thought. How could they not think it? She had. Worse, she knew it was true. A lifetime of keeping her passionate, exuberant nature on a tight leash, and in one great fall from grace, all her efforts had been reduced to nothing. She had tainted her family name, had brought them ridicule, the disgust of a nation who saw her as a clear sign of the degeneration of the royal family.

The question was, how badly did she want redemption? Enough to marry a total stranger? The prince of a country she’d never been to? The man her sister had been engaged to, until she’d broken it by hooking up with Ash on his private plane.

She looked at her father. He had aged in the past few years. She hadn’t been around to see it. She wondered how much of it was her fault. How many lines on his face were from dealing with her transgressions.

It made her sick to think of it.

But she could be the one to fix things here. The one to save the day. To be the daughter her parents had imagined she would be. It was almost embarrassing that she wanted it so badly. That she cared so much. But she did. She needed to look at her father and see something other than disappointment in his eyes.

“What do you need me to do?” she asked.

Rodriguez reclined on the bed, his shoes consigned to the floor, along with his tie. His plane would be ready soon, and then he would be leaving Santina, and with it, the little melodrama that the Santinas seemed to be living.

He didn’t waste his time on this sort of thing. He lived. He didn’t regret. He didn’t worry. He didn’t think more than he had to. Not about anything beyond the here and now, anyway.

There was a soft knock at the door and he wondered if it was a maid, then chuckled at where the thought took him. It really had been too long since he’d had sex. He’d been expecting to pick up a fiancee so he’d imagined his celibacy wouldn’t have lasted beyond tonight.

“Si?“

The door opened, and it wasn’t a maid. It was Princess Carlotta Santina, still in her drab outfit, her lips pursed tight. She didn’t look like she was here to alleviate him of his celibacy either.

“I thought we might have a talk.” No, definitely not.

“Did you?”

She nodded, the setting sun filtering through the window shimmering over her straight, glossy bob. “I thought, since my father just tried to…use me as a stand in for my sister, we might…”

“I’m actually done with that now.” He really wasn’t in the mood for whatever kind of rant she’d come to throw at him. Or was she here to apologize? The way she’d looked at her father, the way her shoulders folded in, her hands clasped tight in front of her, almost like a shield. Like she feared him…she would come and apologize.

“I’m not,” she said, the slight steel in her tone surprising him.

“Is that so?”

“Yes. My father explained the situation to me more fully. I…I knew that you and Sophia were engaged, in a sense, but I did not know the specifics. I don’t live in Santa Maria so I’m not really in on everything that goes on here and Sophia didn’t…she didn’t really say much of anything about you. I only got wind of how big of a deal it was when the story broke about Sophia being caught with Ash on the plane.”

“That’s because I’ve barely met the girl. No reason for her to talk about me.”

Carlotta cleared her throat. “Yes, well…the girl, is gone.”

“With the maharaja.”

He saw the corner of her mouth twitch. “Right. With Ash. Alex’s friend. And you still need a wife.”

“Need is a strong word.”

“Do you or don’t you?” she asked.

“Eventually.”

“How soon is this eventually you speak of?”

“Truthfully? The sooner the better. This will be a time of transition for my people.” He thought of the responsibility, the weight of the crown. It was heavy on his shoulders. Already he’d moved back into the palace in Santa Christobel. He felt like it would choke him, being in those four walls again. “Anything that can be done to ease their fears in this time would be welcome. Marriage, my marriage, would help with that.”

They wouldn’t be mourning his father, that was for sure. Carlos Anguiano was not much loved. And while Rodriguez had essentially been running Santa Christobel for the past several years, his father had remained the figurehead.

“It would mean a new start for my people. A fresh beginning,” he said.

“Well then, I guess I have good news for you.”

“What is that?”

“I haven’t run off with a maharaja, or taken a job out of the country, unlike my other sisters, so…I happen to be available to marry you. At your earliest convenience.”

It was a rare moment that found Rodriguez Anguiano speechless.

“Excuse me?” he asked.

“I’ll marry you.”

“What happened to the emphatic no from earlier?”

“I was shocked. In shock. I wasn’t prepared for something like that.”

“To be offered up as a replacement wife in your sister’s absence?” He sat up and swung his legs over the side of the bed, standing quickly.

“I wasn’t…exactly expecting that, no. I thought I’d come to the party, have a couple of drinks and go home. Wasn’t really anticipating acquiring a husband.”

“And yet you have changed your mind?” He asked, pacing in front of her, adrenaline surging through him, joining the unrest he’d already felt being contained in the walls of the castle in Santina. That he’d been feeling since he’d boarded his private plane, on his way to collect what could only be described as a ball and chain.

“We need this, don’t we? The marriage I…” He watched her throat convulse as she swallowed. “I have always known that I would face an arranged marriage of some kind.”

She spoke the truth. From the cradle they’d all known their marriages would likely be arranged by their parents. Because duty came first, the allegiance to the family name. To Santa Maria. Alex had long been been promised to Anna, a woman more than suitable to be the future queen of Santina. But that was before Alex had gone rogue and set his sights on Allegra Jackson. And of course Sophia had been promised to Rodriguez.

Before Carlotta had….well, if not for Luca her father would have likely arranged a marriage for her years ago. As it was, she had been sort of taken out of the ‘dynastic union’ running when she’d had her son.

Well, apparently not really out of the running. She was good enough to play second string. Good enough to marry the renowned rebel prince of Santa Christobel. A man who lived dangerously and loved often. Well, not loved. He made love often, according to the tabloids. A new woman on his arm every weekend to accompany him to Europe’s most exclusive parties. Fast cars, fast dates.

The kind of man who represents recklessness, lawlessness, total disregard for honor. A man who served his own passions. The kind of man she hated. The kind of man she was so easily drawn to.

“As have I,” Rodriguez said, his dark eyes blank, unreadable, the little curve of his mouth still present, like it had been earlier. It was a kind of ever-present near smile that made it look like he was mocking her. It made her stomach feel like it was being squeezed tight by an invisible fist.

She cleared her throat. “So, while I hadn’t really penciled a wedding into my day planner, it’s not a…it’s not a total surprise.”

What was her other option, anyway?

Well, there was staying in Italy. That was a good thought. Hiding. But she didn’t know if it served any real purpose. The only person it really helped was her. It allowed her to lick her wounds in private. It allowed her to hide Luca from royal life. Something part of her wanted to do, but something she also knew wasn’t fair. He was a Santina. He was a royal. It was a part of him, and it didn’t do him any good to force him to deny that part of himself. No matter how much simpler it would be to just raise him as a little boy who wasn’t royal. Who wasn’t tabloid fodder. It wasn’t reality.

“I don’t suppose you really had other life plans either.” she said.

“I don’t plan. I live.”

“Well…I suppose that means you don’t have a woman back home you’re dying to see. Someone you prefer to marry.”

“I’ll be honest with you, Carlotta, I prefer not to marry. But I need an heir. One that isn’t a bastard.”

She flinched when he spoke the word. She hated that word. One used to label an innocent child, to make them suffer for the perceived sins of his parents. Did Rodriguez know? He had to know. If so, he’d chosen the words to wound her.

“Why?” she said. “Do you have many? Children, I mean.”

“Me? No. I always use protection.” Such a throwaway statement. Spoken like a man who never thought about anyone but himself.

She gritted her teeth. “It doesn’t always work.”

“True. But in the event that a pregnancy had resulted, you can bet the woman involved would have told me. I’m rich. Titled. She would have wanted her piece.”

“You would have owed her a piece,” she said. “At minimum.”

“I’m not arguing that. My point is that, whether I want marriage or not, I need it.”

“Preferably to me.”

He looked at her, his dark gaze dismissive. “Because of your last name.”

“I didn’t seek to imply otherwise. It’s the only reason I would marry you.”

“Because your father told you to. That’s the reason.”

She felt her cheeks heat. “He has good reasons.”

“Fine. But you’re still doing it because he asked you to.”

“And your father has nothing to do with any of this?”

A muscle in his jaw ticked, the light in his eyes turning black, deadly. “My father can hardly lift his hand anymore. He is weak. What I do, I do for my country.”

“Same goes for me. But my family is Santina.”

“Thank God, mine is not Santa Christobel. Santa Christobel is better than the Anguiano legacy has been thus far. But I intend to do better.” 

(the above is an uncorrected excerpt)

Princess From the Shadows is book #6 in the Santina Crown series and it’s out in the UK July 1st, and in North America in October! Also, don’t forget to leave a comment on the previous post for a chance to win a copy of Hajar’s Hidden Legacy. Contest is open until 6/18 and is open internationally!

Hajar’s Hidden Legacy (Beast Sheikh) Giveaway!

WIINNERS! I have chosen you! Okay, I always feel bad when I have to draw winners because not everyone can win. BUT check back, because I have a couple more books coming soon and should have author copies shortly.

My randomly drawn winners ARE: Sara McDaniel, Desere, Jamie, Laura Field, and Joanne Dannon. Email me at maisey at maiseyyates dot com! Or use the contact form.

As I said, please check back for more contests. Hot Rod, who has an excerpt above, and Untouched Hero (A Royal World Apart) will be with me soon, and when they are, I’ll have more to give away!

You all know I love to torture my heroes. And I know I’ve mentioned how much I love beauty and the beast. And sheikhs. And basically, when I sat down to write Hajar’s Hidden Legacy (which I affectionately called Beast Sheikh and which, here in North American says “Beasts of the Desert” right across the top which I think is filled with UTTER WIN) I decided to play with those things that I love so much.

I loved the idea of writing this man, this hero, who was so utterly dark and scarred that he had earned, rightfully, a reputation in his country for being a beast. But Zahir’s physical scarring and handicaps are only a part of his damage. (Naturally, I told you it was hero torture) He’s terribly traumatized but the events that killed his family and left him alone to rule the country.

Enter Princess Katharine Rauch, who had a marriage agreement with Zahir’s older brother, and is now intent on making Zahir honor it to help protect her country’s interests.

I loved writing a scene where the heroine has come to claim her convenient husband…and he just wants her to leave. All Zahir wants is to be left alone, and Katharine absolutely refuses to do that. She draws him out, teaches him to live again, helps him find his honor and strength.

Read on for an excerpt, and comment for a chance to win a copy of my Beast Sheikh! This contest is open to international entries. 😉

 Chapter One

They called him The Beast of Hajar for a reason. Katharine could see that now. Zahir S’ad al Din, was every bit as frightening as they said. He was an entirely different man to the one she’d met so many years ago. Cold, completely forbidding.

But Katharine didn’t have the luxury of being frightened by him. Anyway, she was used to cold, forbidding men.

“Sheikh Zahir,” she began, taking a step toward his expansive desk. He wasn’t looking at her, his dark head inclined, his focus on a paper in front of him. “I have been waiting for you to contact me. You haven’t.”

“No, I have not. Which makes me wonder why you are here.”

Katharine swallowed. “To marry you.”

“Is that right, Princess Katharine? I had heard a rumor about that, but I didn’t believe it.” He lifted his head and for the first time, Katharine saw his face.

Yes, he was every bit as frightening as they said. The skin on the left side of his face ravaged, his eye not as focused or sharp on that side. Yet she still felt like he was seeing all the way into her, as if the accident that had served to cloud his physical vision had made him able to see more than a mere mortal man.

That he was a ghost, or a god of some kind was part of his legend, and looking at him now, she understood why.

“I did call.” She hadn’t exactly talked to Zahir, but she’d talked to his advisor. And she hadn’t really been invited either.

“I didn’t think you would travel all the way from the comfort of your palace to have your marriage proposal turned down, as I was certain I had relayed my thoughts on the matter.”

She straightened her shoulders. “I thought you owed me a conversation. A personal one, not your relayed response. And I didn’t come to be turned down. I came to make sure the contract was honored. The deal was struck six years ago…”

“For you to marry Malik. Not me.”

Thinking of Malik always made her feel sad. But her sadness was for a young life cut short, nothing deeper. He had been her destiny, her duty, for all of her adult life, and while she had liked him, cared for him in some ways, she had not loved him.

At first it seemed like losing him had changed everything, that her horizons had opened, that she might have a different future before it. It was clear now that nothing had changed.

Instead of Malik, it would be Zahir. But she was still destined to be sold into marriage for the sake of her country. She’d accepted it. Ultimately, she hadn’t felt that the change in groom had mattered all that much.

Although, looking at him now it became a whole different matter than it had been in theory. He was…he was something much more than she’d counted on.

This was never about you. Never about your feelings. You have to be prepared to see this through.

Beauty…

Princess Katharine has always been destined for a political marriage. Her heart heavy, she prepares to meet her future husband-the man whisperers in his royal kingdom call The Beast of Hajar…

…and the Scarred Sheikh…

Concealing his disfigurement from public scrutiny, Sheikh Zahir rules his country from within the castle walls, allowing no one in. Until duty demands he carry on the Hajar family dynasty and allow his new bride to cross the threshold.

Zahir expects Katharine to flee at first sight. Yet her unflinching gaze fires Zahir’s blood, and their attraction burns hotter than the scorching desert sands…