BODYWORK in The Hard Stuff

Looking into the coming year, I’m excited to see how readers feel about my upcoming novella, Stroke of Midnight (Carina Press – January 2011). Here’s a secret: That story was born while I was writing the novella in The Hard Stuff (Aphrodisia’s first anthology – Jan/06). For those readers who may remember Bodywork, my hero had a

SLOW HAND in Pure Sex

Hm…which brings me to my Midnight Confessions set of books and novellas. I have so many people asking for more of them that I haven’t given up on my ghosts.

The mysterious beginnings . . .

All the happy endings

I’m hoping this holiday season is cheerful and bright and that the new year brings the best news you could ask for, whether it’s new jobs, better health, or happy family time.
Every best wish to you and yours!

Available Sept 28/2010 ISBN: 978-0-7582-3827-6

And thanks so much for stopping by our blog!

Enjoy!

Bonnie Edwards

The good thing is, I’m back, and an even better thing is I now have more really cool reviews and news to share!

Laurie from http://www.demonloversbooksandmore.com/ says:

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Available Sept 28/2010 ISBN: 978-0-7582-3827-6

Bonnie Edwards has created an incredibly intricate novel that has 6 main characters, but the viewpoint shifts are smooth and the transition from each brother’s section flowed. I never once was annoyed with extraneous points of view, and Bonnie has quite the witty sense of humor. I find it hard to find witty banter in an erotica novel, and this one had it! It didn’t feel forced or out of place. In fact,I’d market this book as a contemporary romance as well as erotica since it was so well-developed.

Fresh Fiction says: MEN TIMES THREE is as hot as the desert sun with men promising to quench your thirst. I loved it!

For the first time ever, a book of mine has been nominated for an award. I don’t generally enter contests and I don’t have a clue who nominated MEN TIMES THREE but I’m SO STOKED to announce that my O’Banion brothers are listed at http://authorsafterdark.blogspot.com/ Voting will start end of November sometime, so please consider voting *if you’ve read the book*. Please consider reading the others in my category so you can give due consideration to your vote. That’s all I ask.

To celebrate, I’ll give away a copy of MEN TIMES THREE to one commenter…winner to be posted next Saturday November 13 so please check back!

I’m very pleased to say that I’ve received my best rating ever from RT Book Reviews for MEN TIMES THREE. I confess to having had some concerns about this story.

Believe me, it’s not easy to twine six people into one story thread with rising tension, sexual tension, lots of hot sex and one couple teasing each other stupid by NOT having sex. What was I thinking coming up with such a crazy idea?

I was thinking how much I love a challenge. And that works really well until I get into the depths of the second draft and I need to move scenes around and keep the threads tightly intertwined.

But thanks to my editor’s faith, I managed to get to The End without my head exploding. And I’m so glad I did, because this is what RT had to say:

RT Rating 4.5 Stars

Available Sept 28/2010 ISBN: 978-0-7582-3827-6

There’s something about six-pack abs in a flannel shirt and tool belt that can make a woman’s mouth water; toss in a gorgeous face and the heart of a hero, and you’ve got the O’Banions. Mama did something right with those boys and readers will need asbestos gloves to flip through this funny, sexy romp. . .

Reviewed By: Pat Cooper

Here’s the back cover blurb:

Hot and hard-bodied . . . The O’Banion brothers have what women want. Need a man who can swing a hammer? They’re ready. Craving an incredibly sensual seduction? You got it, times three . . .

Big brother TJ is hammering up a storm building a woodsy retreat for Marnie Dawson, who’s thrilled to see that the hunky contractor is so devoted to his work…and to providing the ultimate in pleasure. Then there’s Deke, rock solid and crazy about he way leggy Holly Dawson looks in high heels. Please, Baby, please. Keep them on when everything else comes off. And when Eli and Kylie connect, they totally scorch the sheets. May the long, hot summer never end . . .

I have two copies of MEN TIMES THREE to give away to random commenters today. Please share a story or two about men you’ve noticed in toolbelts, hard hats or swinging an ax. (or a hammer or climbing a ladder or…fixing a roof … or . . .)

Oh come now…surely you’ve seen one or two that caught your eye!

Life’s sweet, enjoy it!

Bonnie

Some pictures for your enjoyment:

This was taken while waiting for the ferry. Is it any wonder I don’t leave here often? That last stretch of road on the way to the ferry is interesting…the jockeying for position begins earlier than you think, because at a busier time of year, one car can make a difference to whether you get on the ferry or not. We call that “the ferry races.” I won and caught ferry I needed that morning. YAY!

The Harlequin party is always a great time: This year’s theme was “picture perfect” and what a blast! This pic was taken before the dancing started and the shoes came off.
(I think if you can get through the whole evening with your shoes on you’re a wonder. Or you have toes of steel.)

At the RITA dinner with Sharon Page, Jessica Trapp and Diane Whiteside. By then, my bling dresses had been worn to the Kensington Cocktail party and the Harlequin party. But the blue stood out, don’t you think? The long stemmed roses were a gift from Alicia Condon, Editorial Director of Brava Books. A lovely gesture from a warm, lovely woman.

I would be remiss if I didn’t mention that photos from the past 30 years of RWA conferences were flashed on large screens overhead in the ballroom. When Kate Duffy’s photo came up there was a spontaneous standing ovation to honor her memory. She is missed, but in another moment of appreciation, her tradition of delivering chilled bottles of water to the Kensington authors during the gigantic booksigning was continued. (and SO appreciated)

For the eHarlequin Pyjama party I walked, head held high, across the lobby in my pjs. Yes, I really did. On the way back at least I wasn’t alone.

And no, I didn’t get a pic of me in those pjs…but they were black, silky and oh-so-elegant. Really. Far too nice to write in!

A wonderful conference and I’m especially grateful to the staff and Board of RWA for the fantastic job they did transferring everything to Orlando after the flood in Nashville. An incredible job!

Meantime, I’m counting down to the release of my next book, MEN TIMES THREE, an October release.

As ever, thanks for clicking on over and enjoy the rest of your summer!

The gigantic (can we say humongous?) Autographing for Literacy is one of my favorite events. http://www.rwanational.org/cs/literacy_autographing

I’ll be there with copies of my HQ Blaze, Possessing Morgan (if still available)

One rockin' road...

I’ll also have my December release from Aphrodisia, Breathless to sign.

December 2009 - Perdition House one more time!

As a bonus, anyone who stops by to visit me will receive a signed cover flat of MEN TIMES THREE complete with an excerpt tucked inside. Credit goes to my husband for suggesting our book cover flats are just big

Coming October 2010!

So, please, if you’re attending this event (Wednesday, July 28, from 5:30-7:30 p.m. at the Walt Disney World® Dolphin Resort, Pacific Exhibit Hall)come find me: I’ll be sitting between Cynthia Eden and Louisa Edwards who I’m sure will have line ups in front of them. I’ll be the lonely blonde wedged between their crowds. Stop by, say Hi and I’ll likely talk your ear off!

Life’s sweet, enjoy it!

Bonnie Edwards

He’s been such a happy pup – joyful, springy, and full of energy. Jackson’s strong enough to pull me into ditches, off the curb, and into poles when I’m not watching carefully. We tried a gentle leader, (a harness-like piece of head gear that helps with strong dogs) and he was smart enough to figure out how to get out of it.

Then we noticed he’d begun pulling so hard he’d loosen his collar and be able to back out of that, too. Not good when you’re trying to leash train him.

Jackson in full recuperation mode

But a few weeks ago, all of our hard work seemed for nothing. Jackson went back to his worst habits: he leaped after a cyclist and scared the poor guy into yelling. He’d eyeball cars as if he wanted to give chase, too, but I was quicker than him those times. He tried to chase birds (he has a real love/hate relationship with crows) and tackled every piece of blowing litter and leaves he saw.

The groomer had a hard time working on him because he was hyped up like a tweaker. Our cat, who has the patience of a saint, finally gave him what-for (not severely enough to my mind – should have happened months ago).

It was time to unman the man. The deed was done yesterday, and I can’t explain my feelings while I waited for the surgery to be over. I couldn’t write, I didn’t want to be in a mall or anywhere public…just in case *something* went wrong.

So, I did what I always do when I’m stressed: I read a romance novel…a Shannon Drake pirate novel. What fun!

Today, we’re back to our normal routine. Jackson’s beside me as I write this and periodically I tell him to “leave that alone!” when he tries to lick his stitches. Then he rolls his eyes at me as if he’s looking for pity.

There’s a tiny part of me that feels apologetic for the snip, but hey, life will be grand when we’re out walking like normal people again and cyclists and skateboarders and kids on trikes are safe.

But still, I’m pondering whether or not to give him a pair of those phoney little danglers that some pet owners have installed.

Maybe I’ll just let his hair grow in and hide his shame, instead.

I'm a black dog...you don't really expect to see my face, do you?

It’s good to have my happy pup back, though. The house was incredibly quiet while I was waiting for that call…And thanks to a good romance novel, I got through it.

That happened to me last Friday. Yes. In spite of my intense dislike of Country music, I decided to go to the RWA National Conference in Nashville, TN.

This was a conference I’d decided not to go to. Family reasons, among others. (Not least of which is my intense dislike of Country music – I mean I leave stores if it’s playing, kind of dislike.) (See me wince – I may just have lost some readers with that admission. But, hey, everyone’s entitled to one weird thing – and that’s mine.)

But I toyed with the idea on Thursday that perhaps I should go, in spite of all the reasons not to. Overnight, I bargained with myself. If my good friend, Alexis Morgan, still had a bed available for a roommate, I’d go. (We’re negotiating on a massage for her cheering section should she win the RITA for which she’s deservedly nominated.) Then, I added the qualifier that if I could get a good price on her flight, I’d go.

All these things fell into place in under an hour: I registered for the conference at the early bird rate, Alexis had room for me to share with her, I got on her flight at a fabulous price and we even got early boarding and seat selection so we could sit together.

I mean – Wow! Right? Who wouldn’t decide that was a sign to go for it?

Then the skies over Nashville opened and the deluge began that flooded the river beside the hotel. The water rose and crested somewhere around 11 or 12 feet, washing away lives, property, homes, and businesses. My heart goes out to all the immediate victims and for all the long term effects.

By Sunday, the news was full of the devastation and people started to panic about the conference. Tweets were posted, pictures of the flooded hotel were everywhere, what ifs ran rampant on writer loops. Still, I felt good about my decision to go to National.

By late Monday the hotel was sending out cancellation notices to those people who’d booked rooms. RWA sent out an alert that they were doing everything they could to salvage the conference. It’ll have to move, it may have to change dates, it may have to be shorter, but I have faith it’ll happen.

Who knows? Maybe we’ll end up somewhere they play rock and roll or the blues, or jazz, or … sigh, anything but Country. All I know is, with all those details falling so smoothly into place, my decision to go is rock-solid.

Come hell or high water, I’ll be at National, wherever it is, for as long as it is….

Okay so maybe I have one more weird thing: my unshakeable belief that this year will be a good year to go to RWA’s national conference.

And now, to diet!

And no sooner had I sent this to publish first thing this morning, than I get confirmation that RWA has found the conference a new home in Orlando, FL. (okay, we’ve seen the high water so now I guess it’ll be hellish hot in Florida in July)

I haven’t been there in many many years, so I’m really excited about going…and this just goes to show what a great organization RWA is. They didn’t even have to change the dates. And all of this accomplished in under 3 days. Amazing!

According to writers? The strong desire is to be published. Early on, it’s to sell a first book, to be validated as a writer or some more personal goal.

As time moves on ambitions change or maybe ambition changes us. I’m not entirely sure what happens first. I just know my goals have changed. What seemed totally unattainable a few short years ago, have now happened.

Recently I went to dinner with a group of writers. We represented erotic romance, romantic suspense, category romance, historical and Regency romance. We’ve written novellas, single titles, trade paper, even a couple of non-fiction books. We’ve all published multiple books with multiple houses. (Wow, don’t we sound like an impressive lot – before writing this I’d have said a bunch of buddies got together at a local restaurant to eat, drink and be merry, but suddenly it sounds like some lit’ray function.)

As we took our seats and ordered drinks, we cheered and called ourselves “survivors” for having been in publishing for a number of years. The talk turned to careers, the business, the changes in the business (the only constant in publishing is change itself).

In the midst of our rambling convoluted conversation I said, “Ambition’s the bitch. No matter that 2 years ago I sold 3 books in a matter of days, I want more and I want it now.”

Yes! Ambition’s what drives us all. We’ve had our thrills, our successes and for a time we were happy with deadlines and plots and characters. But then, ambition worms its way into our thoughts, and we want the next sale, the next hurdle in our personal journey.

For women to be described as ambitious isn’t always flattering. In fact, sometimes it’s read to mean something rather less than feminine. Ambitious women are often shown as, well, um, bitchy, power mad, and manipulative.

But for writers those things can’t help. Bitchiness gets you nothing but disliked. There’s no such thing as real power in publishing for writers because writers have no control over changes in the marketplace. As for being manipulative? You get to manipulate your characters/story/pacing/plotlines all you want so that’s out of your system by the end of every day anyway.

But without ambition, the writers at that table wouldn’t sit down and do the work every day. We wouldn’t dream our dreams, write the stories, do the work that ambition demands.

Ambition’s the bitch that bites us, that rides us, that we feed, that we harbor.

Personally, I love my inner bitch. She takes me places I’d never have been without her.

Comes my March release from Harlequin Blaze and I trot myself all over town from drug store to grocery store to discount super store to sign the books on the shelves.

Thrilling indeed. One chain has four copies in each store, another only 2, but hey…I’m there on the shelf with some of the best authors Harlequin has to offer. I’m pumped, I’m ready and armed with my little gold “autographed copy” stickers that fit perfectly under the Blaze logo.

In stores March 1

I like to introduce myself and get permission to sign books. So, in the third store of the afternoon, I take the copies to the Customer Service desk and hold up the top copy.

“This,” says I, “is me and I’d like to sign them all.”

The customer service lady looks at POSSESSING MORGAN, then at me, then back to the book. A look of chilled horror comes over her expression.

The penny dropped. “No, no! This isn’t me.” I point to the gorgeous brunette on the cover. “I wrote it. I’m the author.” I point bravely to my name.

I thought she was going to crumple to the floor. Not, as you may think, with the thrill of meeting an author in her drug store, but with relief that she didn’t have a nutjob on her hands.

Yes, she thought I was saying I was the cover model. Now, seriously, how nutty do I look? I’m just glad she didn’t call for security, because she admitted that she was wondering how the hell to handle me.

The next store I went to I decided not to bother anyone who worked there and just signed the books I found on the shelf. Yes, I wondered if I was on a security camera and had visions of being kicked out of the store for defacing their inventory.

But now I’m wondering if I should change my hair to dark brown.

To celebrate the release of Possessing Morgan I’ll be giving away one copy to someone who comments here today…and shares a moment of total miscommunication with a stranger. I’m sure we’ll come up with some doozies!