Friday, March 27, 2009

The Wild Rose Press - More Than a Publisher

If you are searching for an e-publisher I suggest you go over to The Wild Rose Press site and look into the Garden. Not only does it tell you about the company but it also gives writers helpful tips.

In the Garden Gate area under writing mechanics section, there are a number of articles to help you write a better manuscript.

Take a look and learn more about the art of writing or find a book.


Thursday, March 26, 2009

Tuesday, March 24, 2009


The idea of dieting for some has always been hard, but in some ways it's not so bad.

You don't have to worry about what to cook for each meal. Usually, the diet tells you or you can only chose from a select number of items.

But the other reason for dieting is for better health. If you go from eating few to none vegetables to consuming three to five a day, you are getting more nutrients and living a better lifestyle.

The biggest challenge I believe is watching tv. The commercials of food are a killer.

Here's hoping I can stick to it.


Sunday, March 22, 2009

Shrinky Dinks

Don't know if you've ever tried these shrinkable plastic items but you can create a number of fun items with them.

Check out their website

and new ways to make fun items you can share with your friends.


Friday, March 20, 2009

Celebrating the Spring Equinox

"Just as the dawn is the time of new light, so the vernal equinox is the time of new life."

A number of years ago, I had a teacher suggest that each equinox is a special time to meditate on the future. To plan and visualize the things you want to accomplish or to see happen in the future.

I find this very intriguing and even found a sight where it gives the history of the season. If you're interested. Check it out.

Now, I need to decide what seed or idea I want to plant or develop today so it can bloom tomorrow.

Happy Spring,


Thursday, March 19, 2009

Looking forward to hitting the Trail

Summer is just around the bend.

With warmer weather, we'll all be able to get out and enjoy the locate sights.


Tuesday, March 17, 2009

Special Treats

The little surprises we receive unexpectantly are sometimes the best we can ask for.

Someone doing the dishes without you asking, taking out the garage without a reminder, or some one you love showing up for spring break when you least expect them.

I am so grateful for my wonderful family.

Warts and all, they are the best.


Monday, March 16, 2009

Who Do You Remember - Thought for the Week

“In the end, the size of a person's accomplishment can best be measured by the size of their heart.”


Wednesday, March 11, 2009

Egg-cerpt for Black Dragon's Moon by Anita Philmar

Black Dragon's Moon
By: Anita Philmar
Published By: The Wild Rose Press
ISBN # 1601544855
Word Count: 49442

Blurb -

Dee Butterfield, a Dragon Center agent, finally has the job she’s alway longed for. On her first assignment, she is assigned to protect sculptor, Scott VanHorn. His rich dragon blood tempts her to enter into an affair, which could not only jeopardize her career but possibly her life.

Scott determined to find out who killed his best friend, is helping the Dragon Center investigate a corrupt art dealer. Posing as a struggling artist, Scott can’t keep his hands off Dee and pursues her while they try to discover what happened to his friend.

Her assignment is to protect him, but he has a
mission of his own.


His lips slid along the curve of her earlobe. He nibbled and toyed with her tender flesh. Hope pooled and seeped between her thighs. Thoughts of kissing him flooded her head with erotic ideas.

“Wanting you doesn’t discount the need to find the swindler.” He shifted back and twirled her around to search her face. “Is your level of dragon blood as high as Amanda’s?”

Her hands caressed the strong barrier of his chest. She enjoyed the crisp texture of his hair and the melting heat of his skin. The answer to the question held ramifications she didn’t plan to deal with. Their affair wouldn’t last long enough for her to fall into the hazardous state of pregnancy.

“It doesn’t matter. You’re not looking at me as a potential mate. We’re only here to have a little fun.”

His hungry eyes narrowed to small slits. “The terms of engagement?”

She stepped closer. Her silk covered breasts brushed his broad chest. The sexy purr of the fabric whispered between them. “I’ll be honest. I like the idea of making love to you, but I’m not interested in anything more serious.”

“No ties.” His burning gaze skated over her face, and his impatient hands gripped her hips. “Right?”

“Yes. To keep my job as a Dragon Center agent, I can’t get married.”

His gaze landed on her mouth and passion flared. A swipe of his tongue moistened his lips. The hands on her hips lowered to squeeze her backside and crush her into his rock-hard erection. She shivered.

“Just a little fun.” She worked her hands around his neck. “Agreed?”

His lips hovered within a breath of hers. “No.”

To Purchase click the link:

Also visit my website and learn about my other books.

Have a wonderful day full of fun-loving sex,

Anita Philmar

Tuesday, March 10, 2009


Every season brings us new questions to ask each other.

Meet a stranger and at a lost as to what to talk about, most people ask about the weather.

Is it snowing there? Are you getting much rain?

It's the one thing that we all live with like it or not.


Saturday, March 7, 2009

Egg-cerpt for Heart of Stone by Sandra Kay

HEART OF STONE is a contemporary romance taking place in the Hill Country of Texas. It is a story of love and betrayal, with elements that will resonate with today’s readers.


A marriage in name only. A secret past. Can love be found amid the tangle of distrust and betrayal?

Alone and pregnant with twins, Amber Wilson has only a fuzzy memory of how she got that way. One thing she knows for sure—no man will ever get near enough to hurt her again. But when she meets Stone Brandon, the attraction is too great to ignore. Stone’s ex-fiancĂ©e’s betrayal has hardened his heart. Though he is drawn to Amber, he knows he can never fall in love again. Still, with her help, the dreams he has for the expansion of his family’s ranch can become a reality. A platonic marriage seems like the logical answer for both of them—until he realizes that a marriage in name only with Amber is a hell of his own making.


Dust billowed behind Amber Wilson’s beat-up Mustang. Gravel pinged against the undercarriage. She refused to let the dismal condition of the Green Monster, as she called her car, get her down today. A new adventure, filled with hope, waited for her at the end of the tree-lined drive.

The open window offered some relief from the sizzling heat of summer in the hill country of Texas. Still, the humidity-laden air lay heavy on her face, clogging pores that struggled to breath and plastering tendrils of curly blonde hair to her moist cheeks.

“Whoa,” she whispered at her first glimpse of the sprawling ranch house. “I didn’t expect anything like this.” Her foot let off on the gas pedal, indecision running rampant through her system.

Even so, the welcome shade of a live oak beckoned. She parked under the spreading branches and turned off the loud grumblings of her car engine. Emitting a groan of her own, she brushed a hand over her rounded belly and hefted her cumbersome body off the ripped seat. The car door grated on its hinges before finally clunking back into place.

“Whew.” The word came out on a sigh when the warm breeze lifted her damp skirt and actually felt cool against her heated skin. The brief spate of relief fled on the coattails of renewed anxiety when she again stared at the house and the surrounding ranch land.

Intimidated, she cranked the side mirror around to check out her reflection. Big mistake. Limp, wet curls stuck to her cheeks and neck. Perspiration left dark patches of smeared mascara under both eyes.

“Lord,” she murmured, licking the tip of her finger and swiping at the smudges. “They’ll think twice about ever hiring someone over the phone again when they open the door and see a short, pregnant raccoon on the porch.” A giggle burst out at the image and she put a hand over her mouth, looking around for listeners.

Amber’s gaze returned to the mirror. She jammed fingers swollen from the heat into her hair, trying to rearrange the shiny mass of tangled ringlets circling her head. Finally deciding the heavy mane tucked behind her ears tamed it best, she turned and climbed the porch steps.

“Well, here we go,” she said on a heavy breath. “Another new chapter in my life.”

Her fingers hesitated around the plain brass knocker on the door. Whether to delay meeting her new employer or just for a breather, she couldn’t say. Glancing over her shoulder, she gnawed her lips uncertainly at the dented heap of car parked in full view.

“Hmmm. Not a great first impression. Maybe I should move the Green Monster out of sight— ”

The door swung open abruptly. With a yelp of surprise, Amber toppled into the house.
Fighting for balance against a center of gravity that was way off kilter with her growing abdomen, she pitched forward. Strong hands caught her under the arms. Her fingers locked on the muscular biceps of the stranger holding her up as she grappled for firm footing.

“What’s this?” a deep, amused voice asked from somewhere above her head.

She cuddled her abdomen with a protective hand, while clinging to the man with the other.
Heart pounding, still reeling from the unexpected tumble, she stared up into the most startling blue eyes she’d ever seen. Time ceased to exist as Amber lost her balance again— this time with a sensation of sinking into the depths of those indigo pools.

Sandra Kay

Purchase at

Friday, March 6, 2009

Makes You Want to Go Fishing

The beautiful clear water makes you want to go boating, fishing, or swimming.

Can you tell I'm ready for summer?


Wednesday, March 4, 2009

Egg-cerpt for Prince of Darkness by Lizzie Starr


Torn between duty and love, Morghan stands alone to protect two worlds from an ancient Fire Elemental. He’s loved Coralie for long upon long, yet never admitted his desire.

Until now.

If he chooses Coralie over battle, will his worlds be lost? Or will his choices doom them all?


His eyes spoke of much more than his words. Desire, yes, the desire her body ached for, the desire she feared was mirrored now, unguarded and open in her eyes. What else did she see? Hope, certainly. Fear? Aye, he feared her next words.

She lowered her gaze to the base of his throat, watching the movement of muscles as he swallowed. His fingers tightened around hers, but he remained silent.

What answer did she give to his unspoken questions? To admit her love now... Was his declaration only in response to the strange occurrence, the threat to their people? She angled her upper body to glance back through her room to the window framed loch.

Morghan released one of her hands and again caught her chin with a curled finger to turn her face back to him. “Nay,” he whispered. “This has naught to do with anything but ye and I. I have... have felt such for ye for a time longer...” As if he couldn’t resist, he touched his lips to hers for another soft, unfulfilling kiss. “If ye deny me, sweet Coralie, I shall no’ bother ye again.”

That he would deny himself, and her, ripped a jagged hole in her heart. Even if she did not have his love, she could have him, at least for awhile, until he found a true mate. She would deal with that eventuality when it happened. But for now, he could be hers.

The hope faded from his eyes as seconds passed in silence. She couldn’t bear the pain etched in the tight set of his jaw. The hold he had on her hand grew slack so she twined her fingers through his and lifted her free hand to his cheek. With her love tucked away, she would give him what he wished.

“I feel as ye do, Morghan. I would not have ye hide yer feelings from me.”

*~*romance with a sparkling twist!*~*

Purchase at

Sunday, March 1, 2009

Egg-cerpt from Her Montana Man by Cheryl St.John


Chapter One
Silver Bend, Montana, May 1885

Jonas Black looked up from his ledgers and flipped open his ornately engraved gold pocket watch. Nearly three already. In preparation to leave his desk, he blotted the numbers he'd just tallied, then rubbed his ink-stained fingers on his denim trousers. There was something he did every afternoon at this time.

"Gonna be trouble at the North Star!" The tall stoop-shouldered man who tended bar rapped on Jonas's open office door at the same time as he shouted.

The North Star was the three-story hotel a few doors down, where Jonas and most of his employees lived. Jonas owned the hotel as well as the Silver Star Saloon.

"Tall fella, but not beefy," Quay told him. "He's hollerin' for Mrs. Holmes."

Jonas didn't bother to grab his jacket. He might talk this man into leaving peaceably, but experience had taught him it might take more than a simple please to appeal to an abuser. No call to ruin a perfectly good coat.

He glanced at the holstered Colt hanging on a peg just inside the door, but deliberately walked past and locked the door behind him.

With the shutters open to the warm afternoon sun, the saloon was warm and bright. The freshly scrubbed floors, the two patrons and the woman polishing the top of the mahogany bar barely registered as he strode for the door and out onto the shaded boardwalk.

"Madeline, come out here now! Don't make me come in and get you."

The stranger stood in the street, a sweaty bay tethered to the post in front of the hotel. His tailored black suit was coated with a layer of dust as though he'd been pushing the mare for the better part of a day. In Jonas's book, men who abused horses ranked right up there with men who mistreated women. Jonas had heard Madeline Holmes's story and drew the easy conclusion that this was the man she'd run from before finding refuge in Silver Bend.

"Don't make me come in there and drag you out!" the man shouted.

"Looking for someone?" Jonas called easily.

"Stay outta this, mister. Ain't none of your concern."

Jonas walked several yards toward the hotel. "Well, seems it is my concern since you're standing there hollerin' at the front windows of my establishment. State your business, Mister…"

"Baslow. This your hotel?"

"That it is. Jonas Black's the name. And you are?"

"I'm lookin' to take a woman back with me. I want Madeline Holmes."

"Is she your wife?"

The angry man deepened the scowl on his already craggy face, and his complexion reddened. "Ain't none of your damned business what she is. All you need to know is that she's comin' with me."

"I guess we can leave that up to Maddie, now, can't we?"

At Jonas's familiar use of her name, Baslow turned his whole body toward Jonas and squinted. "What's she to you?"

"A good employee. I'll go tell her you're here and you can ask her directly what she'd like to do."

The man jerked his head toward the saloon Jonas had exited. Quay still stood just outside the doors.

"She's in there?" Baslow shouted. "Whoring?"

Jonas gestured to a brightly painted wooden sign that hung on the outside of the building. "No sportin' women in my establishment. Maddie's one of my housekeepers."

"The hell you say. Madeline!" he roared, stalking toward the saloon.

Jonas frowned at Baslow's belligerent tone and aggressive stance. Eagerness for the man to try to push past him so he'd have reason to restrain him made his fingers tingle and his blood pump.

Instead, Baslow gave him a wide berth, striding to face the open saloon doors.

Casually, Jonas turned and stepped past Quay into the dim interior. This time his gaze sought and found the dark-haired woman who'd stopped polishing the bar and stood in rigid fear, her eyes as wide as saucers, her face pale. "Frank," she said on a dry rasp.

Jonas thought she might have been pretty once, before abuse and fear had added the appearance of more years to her narrow face. Using intimidation, the man had held her in his home and his bed for eight years. Breaking away had taken courage. Following through with her decision to escape would take even more.

"You don't have to be afraid," Jonas assured her. "Quay and I are right here. The whole of Silver Bend would see if he tried to force you away in plain sight. You don't have to go back with him. He can't make you. Tell him you don't want to leave. Make it loud 'n clear so there are witnesses."

Her frightened gaze moved from Jonas to the doorway. He'd seen the same bleak dread on too many faces, and it made his blood boil. "You're free, Maddie. You have a job and can take care of yourself. You don't need him. He has no control over you except what you give him. From here on out you can live your life any way you see fit. It's up to you."

His words took effect, and her expression changed. Madeline Holmes placed the cloth she'd been holding on the bar and, with precise movements, removed her apron, folded it neatly and set it down. She ran her palms over her skirt in a nervous gesture, then straightened and raised her chin. "He can't make me do anything I don't want to, can he?"

"No, he can't."

She walked toward the doors. Jonas followed.

As she stepped out onto the boardwalk, Baslow's severe gaze narrowed on her. His attention sidled over Jonas and Quay before fixing back on her as though the men were irritating flies he intended to swat later. "If you want to bring anything with you, get it now."

Her hands trembled, but with obvious deliberation she hid them in the folds of her skirts. Jonas cheered silently for her brave front.

"I have a job now. And my own room at the hotel," she said, her voice louder than he'd expected, though a slight tremble betrayed her nervousness. "I'm content to stay right here."

Baslow's thunderous expression darkened even more noticeably.

A few citizens had gathered on the boardwalk across the street and were watching the goings-on with interest. Wouldn't be the first time a fight had erupted in front of his place, Jonas thought, his blood pounding with keen awareness, and it wouldn't be the last. He had never minded a good fight to clear the air.

"You choosing a life of whoring over comin' with me?" Baslow bit out between clenched teeth.

Jonas kept his mouth shut. He'd already told the man there weren't any sporting women at his place, and everyone in town knew it. This was Maddie's chance to speak her piece.

"That's what I felt like when I was with you," she said, coming straight to the heart of the matter. "I don't want to live that way anymore. I'm not your wife." Her voice and demeanor showed renewed strength in her decision. "Nobody hits me," she declared. "And I get a fair wage for a day's work. I can take care of myself just fine."

Baslow headed toward Maddie. "I don't know who fed you that hogwash," he said, "but you belong to me, and you'll do as I say."

She backed away.

Jonas met him before he could reach the shade of the boardwalk. "Remember the brother's war, Baslow? It's against the law to keep slaves."

They stood three feet apart. Baslow's right eye twitched with anger. Jonas's palms tingled.

"Get outta my way, mister, before you regret it."

"Can't do that. Maddie's my employee, and I take care of my people."

Baslow lunged toward Jonas. Jonas dodged his first attempt to reach him, spinning with hands locked together to land a blow on the back of the man's neck.

Caught off guard, Baslow fell to his hands and knees in the dirt, losing his hat. Slowly, he shook his head, and then scrambled to his feet to come after Jonas. The fight was on.

The growing crowd pushed forward for a better look.

Energized now, Jonas raised both fists and bent his knees in readiness. Baslow faced him and they squared off, circling in avid concentration. The man's eyes bored into Jonas's with contempt. Jonas studied his stance, his movements, waited to see how he hit. Faster than Jonas anticipated, Baslow landed a blow to Jonas's shoulder that forced him to catch his balance and got him mad. He retaliated with a quick right that landed on the man's jaw with a crack and drew a grunt from his opponent and a murmur from the crowd.

Jonas didn't feel the hits that came next, though he knew one landed against his ribs and another at his temple. Adrenaline lent him strength and numbed the pain. In the minutes that followed he used the reprieve to his advantage, skillfully finding opportunities to put down punches.

Half-a-dozen solid hits later Baslow's lip was bleeding. He had a cut over his left eye, and he was breathing hard. Jonas watched for and found an opportunity, hit his eye again, then positioned all his muscle into landing a blow to his gut.

The man moaned and doubled over, dropping to his knees in the dirt. He glared up at Jonas, one eye red from streaming blood. "You got no right to keep Madeline."

"You're finally right," Jonas answered. "Nobody's got a right to hold her. She's free to leave, she's free to stay." He turned to Maddie, who'd been watching with both hands clasped under her chin. "You want to go?"

She shook her head and released a pent-up breath. "No."

"You sure? 'Cause we don't want any misunder-standin's. You're free to leave any time you want."

"I want to stay."

"There you have it." Jonas's knuckles were stinging now. "Need any more convincing?"

Marshal Haglar parted the crowd and made his way to stand on the brick street a few feet away. He took in both men's appearances. "What in blazes is goin' on here?"

Maddie immediately ran forward to explain what had taken place. When she'd finished, the marshal turned to the spectators. "That how it happened? Anyone see the whole thing?"

Jonas couldn't remember if anyone had been there during the initial exchange of words. He scanned the faces nearby. People had an aversion to getting involved, especially when a dangerous-looking fellow like Baslow glared at them as though daring someone to speak against him.

The marshal eyed the crowd, and one after another, the bystanders glanced at the person beside them and then away. Jonas figured his reputation and position on the town council would have enough sway. He wasn't a troublemaker, but he never ran from a fight, either. He didn't want to put Warren Haglar in a bad position, and the indifference of the locals irritated him.

Townspeople turned as movement caught their attention, and Jonas looked, too. From the opposite boardwalk, a slender woman in a blue-and-white gingham dress and a straw hat held the hem of her skirts above her shoes and stepped down onto the paving bricks. She walked to within four feet of the law officer. An unexpected tremor stabbed at Jonas's belly.

"I saw the entire incident, Marshal," she said. "I saw that man ride up and shout for Mrs. Holmes."

Of course. Jonas's three o'clock obsession. She'd been on the boardwalk the whole time. Eliza Jane Sutherland was rather tall for a woman, and on the rare occasion that she'd been without a hat, he'd seen that her hair was black and glossy in the sunlight. Jonas had never heard her speak more than a one- or two-word greeting, so now her magnificent silky voice, more than the words she spoke, caught and held his attention.

"Mr. Black came out of his establishment and suggested that he—" she pointed to the scowling stranger "—leave." Her bright amber gaze moved to Jonas.

Something in his chest throbbed at the direct look, something ragged and weighty, something more alarming than facing a dozen angry men in the street.

The marshal asked her several questions and she replied directly. Jonas couldn't take his eyes from her.

Every afternoon, rain or shine, Eliza Jane walked to the small tea shop that was a red brick storefront nestled on the corner beside Earl Mobley's tailor shop on the opposite side of the street. Once inside, she seated herself at a table before the front window, where Bonnie Jacobson brought her a china cup and a pot of tea. Most days Jonas observed her ritual from just inside the door of the saloon where she couldn't see him, but occasionally he found a reason to run an errand to the hardware store across the street in time for her arrival.

Once or twice he'd paused on the boardwalk as she passed and tipped his hat. As soon as she'd raised those amber eyes, his heart thudded in his chest and he'd chastised himself. Nothing and no one intimidated Jonas Black.

Apparently the marshal had no problem accepting the true story now that Eliza Jane had verified it, because he turned to Baslow. "Time you moved on."

Baslow shot Maddie a look of seething rage. "You ain't seen the last of me, woman. Don't think your friends can protect you forever."

"Anything happens to Miss Holmes, and we'll know who to look for," the marshal told him. "I'll be wiring the county seat to let 'em know about this disturbance."

Baslow located his hat where it lay in the street. He snatched it up, whacked it against his thigh and settled it on his head before walking toward his horse and untying it. From the clumsy way he mounted, Jonas suspected he was masking a couple of cracked ribs.

Marshal Haglar watched as the man turned his mount away and galloped out of town. "Stay out of sight, but follow him a ways to make sure he's headed home," he told one of the young men who had a horse tethered across the street.

Once Baslow was out of sight and the man he'd sent was tailing him, the marshal approached Maddie.

"Thank you, Marshal," she said.

"I had the easy part," he replied. "Looks like Jonas got the worst of it."

Maddie looked Jonas over, but after noting the onlookers, a tinge of embarrassment stained her cheeks. "Sorry," she said low enough that only Jonas and the marshal could hear.


It was her whispered “please” that undid him. Low and intimate, it erased all hesitation and had Jonas agreeing to keep Eliza’s secret…no matter what.

Nothing and no one intimidates Jonas Black. Except for Eliza Jane, that is. As the owner of the Silver Star Saloon, he’s used to facing down drunks and gunmen, but he just can’t seem to do more than tip his hat whenever he sees her.

What Jonas doesn’t realize is that Eliza is haunted by a tragic past…and by a dangerous enemy in the present. Now, her fate hangs in the balance, and when she comes to Jonas for help, he makes a discovery that would change both their lives forever. Another powerful story by Cheryl St. John, Her Montana Man will stay with you long after the final page.
~ Doubleday Book Club

Cheryl St.John
Her Montana Man, Harlequin Historical 12/08
The Preacher's Wife, Love Inspired Historical 6/09
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