Ann Aguirre

The wait is over!

Laura and I pitched an urban fantasy series a couple of weeks ago. I’m sure y’all remember me mentioning Good Touch from time to time. It’s along the lines of Patricia Briggs, but with my own voice / twist on the genre. Anne Sowards, my editor for the Jax books, compared me to Ms. Briggs. Of course, she also compared me to Jim Butcher, and I nearly melted into a puddle of boneless goo. They’re two of my favorite authors!

On Friday, Anne offered for my urban fantasy series on pre-empt — three book deal! She and Laura did some negotiating and they’ve worked out an amazing deal. We’ve officially accepted the offer now, so I’m free to squee about it.

SQUEE!

I love working with Anne. She’s brilliant, gifted, visionary, and she has a marvelous way of making my books better without dismantling them. This is a dream come true. So I’ll be writing two series for Ace simultaneously. I’m still dazed, to be honest.

A little more information — there are no shifters or vamps in this series. Magic exists, but it’s ritual based, not point and shoot. Demons can be summoned and pacts are made, but by and large, mankind is responsible for all the evils in the world in one way or another. There are Gifted humans, who possess powers like TK, telepathy, pyrokinesis, clairaudience, clairvoyance, and psychometry. The heroine of the series, Corine Solomon, possesses the latter, which is the ability to read objects with a touch. Hence, this is called the Touch series.

I’m so excited I don’t know what to do with myself, so I want you to come party with me. To share my good fortune, I’m giving away a $25 Amazon gift certificate just for the hell of it. Show me some comment love up in here, and you might get something back. You also won’t want to miss contests I’m running on the Bradford Bunch and in my author loop, Action and Attitude. If you haven’t already joined that, you should do so now, or you’ll miss the September contest.

Have y’all been to Ereader.com? It’s a veritable garden of delights! Here, I can buy almost any book I want, discounted if I subscribe to the newsletter, and I get it right away. I can stash it on my Lifedrive to be read anytime I want. Which is immediately.

I just read an Elizabeth Hoyt book. On my Lifedrive! Another cool thing — they have packages, where you can buy whole series together. I’ve got my eye on the Linda Howard MacKenzie pack, I tell you. Five books for less than twenty bucks? It’s a bargain!

I’ve long been at the mercy Amazon for any bestseller I want to read, and boy, do they get me on shipping. If I buy $100 in books, I pay that much getting the books here. That chaps my ass. But now, I can get that same book on Ereader. No waiting!

Cue the hallelujah chorus.

Hello. I’m the Jamie half of Jamie Craig, often simply known as Pepper. The other half is writer Vivien Dean. We often divide up editing/promo/blog responsibilities, and today, it’s my turn to blog.

In June of 2006, I visited Vivien at her home in California. She lives near San Francisco, and we spent nearly a week with her, so there were plenty of things to see and plenty of time to do it. We could have gone to the beach, to Fisherman’s Wharf, to Alcatraz. We could have gone on a day trip to the wine country. We could have bought expensive souvenirs and ate clam chowder from sourdough bread bowls. We could have done all those things and more, but I wasn’t in California to see the sights (besides I’ve seen them all anyway). I was in California to write.

That June we had already finished one novel, and if I remember correctly, it was still in the editing stages (that novel, by the way, is Chasing Silver, which we sold to Juno Books). We were still writing, but nothing we intended to sell. We were just playing — literally, we were working together in a role-playing game. So why was this vacation to California worth mentioning at all? Because it was there I mentioned the character that would become Ashley Edwards, and we cooked up the plot that would eventually become Craving Kismet.

Craving Kismet has the distinction of being the second novel we wrote together, and we finished it sometime in August 2006. I suggested we submit to Samhain, as I already had one book published there, and I really liked the publisher. Vivien agreed, and it was on its way! So even though it is our seventh release in 2007, it is still the perfect example of what our early work looked like. In a lot of ways, Craving Kismet was a training book. We knew we could write together. We even knew we could write a book together. But maybe Chasing Silver had been a fluke? Maybe we weren’t as awesome as we think we were? Because, hey, writing novels is supposed to be hard work, and yet, this whole process has been very, very easy for us.

Craving Kismet is a story about fantasies, about finding the right person at the wrong time, and even in the wrong place. Jenny Rohm is engaged to a man she’s known since high school. And her fiance, Bryan, is a good man. They have a good life. They have a good future between them. But Jenny doesn’t realize that “good enough” can only last so long until she meets Ashley Edwards, a man with severe commitment issues. He describes himself as the cliched asshole, married to his job. He doesn’t know he’s missing anything until he meets Jenny.

My favorite thing about this book is Ashley and Jenny’s chemistry. They’re good together, and they know it from almost the moment they meet. Here is a never before posted excerpt to show you what I mean.

“I left home pretty early this morning. You coming in was the first break I’d had since seven.”

“I didn’t wake up until nine.” He peeled the foil away from his taco. “It’s my first day off in years,” he added defensively.

She watched him, curious, as her practiced fingers unwrapped her food. “What’s the point of all the perks if you don’t get to enjoy them?”

Ashley hissed and brought his finger to his lips, sucking a hot dollop of refried beans from his skin. “I’ll be able to take advantage of the perks eventually. Maybe.” He waved his hand and smiled at her. “I think the real point of the perks is the quality of status symbol. It’s a sign of power to have money and time at your disposal and never use it. That’s what I tell myself anyway.”

Her eyes were drawn to the path of his hand, the way he popped his finger into his mouth so casually, the purse of his lips around it. She had to consciously will herself to stop when he addressed her, though the image of what else he could do with his mouth had already sped up her pulse.

“Well, I’m glad that I can contribute to your imminent corruption.” She held up her taco in a mock-toast. “To being a slacker, if only for a day.”

“Or the hour,” Ashley said, checking his watch. “Unless you want to contribute to my corruption for the rest of the afternoon.”

She took a bite of her taco. “I thought you said to take you home.”

“Actually,” he pointed out, pouring the thin salsa over his food, “you said you would take me home.”

Frowning, Jenny had to swallow before responding. “Would you rather I took you someplace else?”

Ashley looked at her a long moment, his eyes thoughtful. She shifted, unnerved by the intensity of his gaze. Before she said anything, he smiled and shook his head. “No. How’s your food?”

“Good. It’s always good here.” As if to prove her point, she took another bite, hoping that it would encourage him to try his. It didn’t. He seemed too busy watching her eat. “It’s better when it’s hot, you know,” she commented around a mouthful.

“I wouldn’t want to burn my mouth.” But he picked up the taco and took a healthy bite. She watched for his reaction and was rewarded with a close-mouthed smile. He sipped from his large cup of Coke and nodded. “It is good.”

“Like I would steer you wrong. I can’t get Bryan to come down here and try it. I took it home for dinner once, and he accidentally took a bite of mine instead of his and spent the next half hour drinking ice water and swearing at me.”

Ashley quirked his eyebrow. “You like it hot?”

She grinned. “Let’s say I like it with flavor. Besides, Mexican really isn’t Bryan’s thing. He’s more Sunday roast than chicken enchiladas.”

Ashley nodded. “A meat and potatoes sort of guy? Doesn’t really go in for anything…out of the ordinary?”

“Nope. He’s a nine to five, always sleeps on his back, plan everything out ahead of time on a spreadsheet, kind of guy.” It dawned on Jenny as she picked up her drink how she was painting Bryan, and she hastened to add, “Which is probably a good thing because somebody has to keep me from going off half-cocked all the time, right?”

“It’s good to have a stabilizing influence in your life,” Ashley agreed. “If that’s the sort of thing you need.” The corner of his mouth lifted as he said the latter, like he was daring her to disagree.

Truth be told, some of Bryan’s more staid tendencies had a way of driving her crazy, but Jenny loved him and put up with them the same way he put up with her occasional need to go a little nuts. It worked for them. They had worked that way for as long as they had known each other. But she didn’t need Ashley to know she sometimes wished it were different.

“So…” she dove back into her food, ready to change the subject, “…you don’t take Vera for long drives on the beach, you work obscene hours in hopes of someday being able to take advantage of the perks, and I can’t even get you to commit to a game of beach volleyball. Is there anything Ashley Edwards does for fun?”

“Seduce innocent maidens.”

She snorted. He had actually said it with a straight face. Well, as straight as Ashley ever got. The devilish twinkle in his eye made Jenny wonder if he was trying to get a visible rise from her. But she knew how to play his game. As long as she ignored the way her thighs clenched together beneath the table.

“And you actually have time for that? Or do you have a ten-step how-to guide you follow to get their attention?”

“Ten steps?” Ashley scoffed. “It’s nothing so elaborate. First, I buy her dinner. Then if we hit it off and I don’t mind the idea of spending more time with the young lady, I serenade her.”

Her brows shot up. “You sing?” He might as well have told her he walked on hot coals bringing them breakfast in bed. “And they don’t see through your ploy?”

Ashley smiled at her question. “Nobody’s seen through it yet. Or, if they do, they choose to ignore it.”

“Because you’re that good.”

“Yes, I am,” he agreed, as though challenging her to deny it.

Heat crept up the back of her neck. Jenny didn’t know if he was talking about the singing or the seducing, but she did recognize her desire to reach across the table, grab his shirtfront and drag him back to her mouth was beginning to usurp her common sense. One taste. So that she could know. She had to suck down a long draught of her Diet Coke in order to stop herself from doing it.

So that’s Ash and Jenny. You can find out more information about the book at at our website. Also, we’ll be posting a free never-before-seen chapter to the story soon in our Extras section.

Have you ever indulged in a fantasy about somebody you know you shouldn’t want? Post and tell us about it.

Susan wins a copy of “Liaisons in Jubilee” and Cathy wins a copy of “Craving Kismet.”

NINJAS AND DEMONS by Dan Brown
Huh. Is it wrong to say I like this one better? I bet I’d have liked a book that could live up to this moniker better as well.

SHY POON by Nora Roberts
With this title, could the book be about anything other than the virgin spinster librarian and the town physician (and secret internet porn star) who loves her? He’ll have to convince her that her underused va-jay-jay is just what the doctor ordered.

DEVIL MAY SULK by Sherrilyn Kenyon
Can’t get enough emo? This story is for you! The hero will sit in a corner, arms folded and glare at you during commercial breaks. He was emo when emo wasn’t cool.

A THOUSAND NASTY NUNS by Khaled Hosseini
Yep, this would’ve been a much different book. Good reading, though, I suspect, but it might’ve gotten Mr. Hosseini whatchallit’d. Excommunicated? The Pope might’ve taken off his pointy hat and everything to lay the smackdown.

INEBRIATED IN DEATH by J.D. Robb
Eve gets drunk at the precinct Christmas party and nearly stabs a bitch. Roarke has to use his money and connections to get her off the hook because there’s a killer preying on drunken women, and they need Eve on the other side of the cell. What? It could happen!

THE BISCUIT by Rhonda Byrne
Need to know the secret to winning your man’s heart? It’s all here in this Southern cookbook.

THE ELVES OF CILANTRO by Terry Brooks
Where Mexican fey come to Shannara. Need I say more? This one writes itself, I think.

FORCE OF MANURE by Suzanne Brockmann
An ex-Navy seal buys a pig farm in Arkansas, wanting to leave all the violence behind him. But when danger comes to his sleepy little town, he’s not afraid to fight dirty, country-style.

CUTICLE by Robin Cook
The medical world has never known a crisis like this one. Every second, millions of people suffer from this insidious illness and there is no cure for… HANG NAILS. We need a manicurist, stat!

STAY THIRTY by Sandra Brown
A woman gets caught breaking into the municipal building, determined to erase all records of her true age. Now that she’s 50+, she’s finding it harder to date younger guys, but if she could just wipe her file, she could… STAY THIRTY forever.

THE FRENCH FRY LANDS by S.M. Sterling
A book about America, duh.

Look like fun? Go here, and then you do one! I had a blast with these.

In her nomination, April said some things that made me blush and dig my toe in the carpet and grin like a loon. She also speculated that I wear WWND undies. That is so not true. And it isn’t because nobody has made any, either. *mumbles* That would be sacrilegious and disrespectful. I mean, what if I got my period? We would then have to design a special pantyliner worthy of the WWND undie line. So yeah, let’s not even go there.

I’m not exactly sure what this award entails, although I’m flattered as hell to receive it from someone as awesome as April. Heck, she nominated Dear Author, Bam, Smart Bitches, me, and Karen Scott, so from where I stand, this means April thinks I’m one of the coolest, smartest, funniest, and best informed people on the Internet. I would suspect her of secretly wanting to host Tupperware parties, which I would then feel obligated to attend, if I lived in a 50 mile radius. But I don’t, so I most conclude, she likes me, she really likes me!

Then I started thinking, huh, do I rock? Do I really? Today I got a comment from a guy on MySpace who said I’d honored him by adding him as a friend. My initial response was, ok, he’s having me on — sarcasm is his native tongue. Then he followed it up with a personal message that made me think the fellow was sincere. Flattering, right? Reviewers have been asking for ARCs of Grimspace and SciFi chick put me on a list today with David Eddings and Alan Dean Foster. One of her commenters said, “Apparently I need to go look more into Grimspace, seems to have a following already.” At this point it’s more of a conga line, but I’ll take what I can get. So maybe I do rock. A little?

Let’s examine the facts. This morning, I got up and rambled downstairs in my awesomely ugly flowered nightgown. My hair stood on end as I packed lunches for my kids. I chafed them into eating breakfast and feeding the animals. I chased them around to make sure their backpacks contained school supplies instead of Pokemon cards and Bratz whatchamabobbies. I smelled their breath to make sure they had, in fact, actually brushed their teeth.

After everyone left, I argued with the water meter man in Spanish. By then I had my hair up in some ornamental chopsticks I bought for five pesos at the Asian Cultural Center. Then I shooed two street peddlers away from my gate, still wearing the awesomely ugly nightgown (you’d think that would’ve scared them away on its own, but no). After the minor contretemps, I ate some cinnamon cereal while I answered emails.

Then I got down to work, which lasted until 12:45 when my son called from school. “Mom, can you bring my trunks at 2:30? I have team swimming today.” I could and did; I also picked up his sister.

While the girl sat in the kitchen eating her snack, she had the bright idea to let Daisy in. Our dog is a crazy bitch. She ran straight for the cat box, which is hidden under the stairs. Our male cat, Don (aka Don Quixote de la Mancha) happened to be using said box when Kamikaze Dog bombed him. Daisy quite literally scared the shit out of him. He ran, only half done with his business, and left me clues as to what had happened. I will not describe the resultant mess, except to say it took me a while to clean it up, and the cat now has a twitch.

The cats (Dulce / left, Don / right) have to eat their dinner up on the bookshelf because the dog will pig down their food if we let her, and then come down with a raging case of the runs. However, the dog is terrified of the squeaky steak we bought her as a toy. If you squeeze it, she runs like hell. It’s about the only thing that deters her.

For dinner, I decided to make chicken marsala and then realized the only things I had that I needed for the recipe were chicken, butter and fresh mushrooms. My daughter watched in awe as I poured Boone’s Tropical Fruit Wine into the pan, along with Perrier, a chicken bouillon cube, some miscellaneous spices (such as rosemary), white vinegar, sun dried tomatoes, and I forget what else. I also didn’t have the cream to add at the end, so I melted some butter and whipped that in some milk, then used the concoction to finish the sauce. And the almost-chicken-marsala was motherfuckin’ delicious, if I do say so myself. And that’s probably allegorical — I wing it, flying by the seat of my pants, and to an outsider, it probably looks like a hot mess, but it comes out fine in the end.

Welcome to my life.

For my nods, I have no idea who’s been tagged, but here goes.

Sci-Fi Chick — She shares my geeky interest in many things, such as SF books and superhero films, she lives where I used to, and she put me on that list.

Victoria Dahl — Met her at Nationals; she’s funny and charming. Plus she just sold a new book. That’s pretty rockin’. Go show her some love, why don’t ya?

Jeri Smith-Ready — I first saw her commenting on Smart Bitches, and I read one of her books. Requiem for the Devil is brilliant and heart-breaking. Much later, I asked her for a blurb, then we met at National, and now we’re, like, friends, and everything. I adore her sense of humor and I love the fact that she answers my emails, like I’m not a total pain in the ass. Go check out her guest blog at Bam’s place and win prizes today.

Carrie Lofty — She’s one of my best friends, (who I also met on Smart Bitches, damn, I met just about all my friends on SB!) and she’s also the only person who can crack me up just by yelling, “TURK!” At National we totally MST3K’d some romance novels we got, and we made each other cry laughing. It was a four day slumber party and I loved it. So if you wanted to meet me and didn’t, blame Carrie, ‘cos we had so much fun hanging out that we just didn’t go out much in the evening, once seminars were done. Next year, we’ll throw a party in our room.

L — I just got to know her, but I’d like to know her better, because her dry, droll sense of humor slays me. You know, not literally. Cos I’m still typing. I love her way with words, and I like reading her blog even when I don’t comment, because of the charming way she writes about mundane things. It doesn’t hurt that she said so much nice stuff about Boundless and that she thinks Dev is magically delicious.