OMG, awesome AWESOME concert. We had such fun. I had no voice, couldn’t sing along, but I could dance. And it was a total blast. Nickelback didn’t sing the one song I LOVE from the new Dark Horse Album, so I’ve posted it in below. But they DID sing all my other favs, in addition to Highway to Hell (WOW is all I can say) and Friends in Low Places (hilarious!). Even the DH was rocking out with me.

Okay, now on to the post at hand. Today’s Saturday Snippet is supposed to be something humorous. This is taken from STOLEN FURY (in case you haven’t read it). One of my favorite scenes in the book.

Enjoy!

“God, you scared me.” Lisa pressed a hand against her heart. “Don’t do that.”

Rafe turned when she pushed past him into the apartment and dropped an armful of shopping bags on the leather couch in the middle of the room. She shrugged out of a winter white suede coat with fur trim he didn’t remember her leaving the apartment in earlier and tossed the garment over the back of a chair.

“Where the hell have you been?”

She looked up from the shopping bag she’d already started picking through. “Close the door. You’re letting in cold air.”

He blinked twice, unable to process her words. “What?”

“The door, Sullivan.”

When he didn’t respond, she frowned and stepped past him, closing it herself. “Winter. Cold air. Chicago. Ring a bell, Slick?” Shaking her head like he was a complete moron, she moved back to the bag.

Good God. The woman was a piece of work. He glanced down at his watch, a mixture of relief and confusion pumping through him. “You’ve been gone for five hours. You said you were shopping. What the hell happened?”

“If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were worried about me.” She lifted a white garment bag.

Worried about her? Damn right he was worried about her. After what had happened last night, they had no idea who was out there watching them. He’d been utterly stupid to let her walk out of the apartment alone, when any number of things could have happened to her. He’d realized that shortly after she’d left, and he’d been stressing about it since then.

“Don’t worry, Slick.” Her smart-assed voice dragged at his consciousness. “I didn’t run off and go after Tisiphone on my own. I know that’s all you were worried about.” She walked out of the room.

Oh, shit. The blood drained from his cheeks. That thought hadn’t even crossed his mind.

He tossed his jacket across the couch and followed her into Shane’s bedroom. She still hadn’t explained where she’d been, and he wasn’t letting it go just yet. Not until he had some answers.

He stopped in the doorway, slipped his hands into the front pockets of his jeans and tried to settle the nerves still churning in his stomach before he laid into her again. His eyes took a careful sweep of the room. Her garment bag lay across Shane’s unmade bed. She stood at the closet pushing hangers and jackets aside, searching for God only knows what.

She’d changed. She wasn’t wearing the same ripped sweater and dirty jeans she’d left in that morning. A long-sleeved black-and-white horizontal-striped blouse highlighted her curves, dipped low at her cleavage and accentuated the swell of her breasts. Snug black slacks molded to her muscular legs, hugged her hips and perfect behind. Shiny black boots with thin heels covered her feet, and light-catching
silver drops hung from her ears.

She looked chic and stylish, and not a bit like the woman who’d walked out of here earlier, although that one had sent his blood soaring even before this little transformation. This one made his jeans grow tight. Even her hair seemed different, all tousled and wild from the wind, like she’d just rolled out of bed, like she’d just had a lover’s fingers run through her silky locks.

He straightened and coughed. Five hours. She’d been gone five freakin’ hours. She’d better not have been off with some other guy. Not when his insides were tied in knots because of her. Not when he’d spent the last hour going out of his mind because he didn’t know where she was.

“There it is,” she said, pulling a tux from the closet.

“Where have you been?”

She looked up at him, green eyes sparkling in the artificial light. Stepping forward, she held the jacket against his chest. “Should fit. You and Shane are about the same size.”

Fit? What the hell was she talking about? “What’s going on?”

She laid the jacket on the bed next to the white garment bag. “You and I are going to a party.”

“A what?”

She pushed past him, and he stood slack-jawed while she sashayed out to the living area, grabbed a couple of shopping bags and returned. “A party, Slick. As in, you and I both get dressed up and hobnob with the rich and famous.” She stopped in the doorway next to him, pinched his cheek. “I know it’ll be a stretch, but I think we can clean you up.”

She smelled like a sexy, exotic flower, looked like every man’s wet dream, and at the moment she was talking in complete riddles. He didn’t want to go to some party he couldn’t care less about. He didn’t want to do anything but discover what she’d been up to while she’d been gone. And tossing her onto that mussed bed so he could find something for that smart mouth of hers to do instead of flip sarcastic comments his way was sounding better and better by the minute. He turned away, rubbed a hand down his face and tried to refocus.

Holy hell, he was losing it. He needed to get a grip. Fast.

“You find anything on the Landau Gallery?”

Landau Gallery. Right. That’s where he was supposed to be focused. He tried to remember what he’d found earlier in his research, tried to get images of her writhing beneath him out of his mind and glanced back at her, where she stood next to the bed, pulling items from the bag. “Specializes in rare sculpture. High-end clients.” If he wasn’t going to get lucky, he might as well get serious. “Your brother mention the assistant who was murdered last week?”

She stiffened. “Yes. What else?”

It was clear she thought the murder might be related to their predicament. A thread of guilt slithered through him as he watched the color drain from her cheeks. Guilt for bringing her into this, for putting her life on the line, all for a few bucks. He raked a hand through his hair. “Not much. Doesn’t sound like they have many leads on the investigation. But the woman was definitely working on a new collection, and rumor has it she was more than his assistant.”

She glanced up. “His lover?”

He shrugged. “Maybe. He hasn’t admitted to it, but that’s the word going around.”

“Alan Landau’s unveiling that new collection tonight. I get the impression this little party is a way to get the public’s focus off her murder and back on his gallery. I think it’s our best chance to get close to him, find out what he’s up to. Get inside his place.”

“How do you plan to get into this little soiree?”

“I have connections.” A smile curled her sensuous lips, highlighting her sparkling teeth. “Had my assistant back in San Francisco arrange for two tickets.”

That explained the tux. And the men’s white dress shirt she pulled out of the bag. “I had to guess on your size. Hopefully it fits.”

Wonderful. Just what he wanted to do with his evening. He stepped forward with a frown and reached for the garment she handed him. His fingers slid over hers, and electricity zinged up his arm at the simple touch.

She wasn’t his type. Not by a long shot. He liked his women a lot more agreeable and a lot less mouthy. So how come every time she got close, he had trouble thinking straight? The woman had little use for him, had made that perfectly clear by ditching his ass all day and going off on her own. And the fact that that didn’t even seem to bother her only made him more frustrated and more determined to prove her wrong.

When she looked up, her eyes held his for a brief moment, shimmering gems that seemed to soften as he looked at her, as if they could read his thoughts, as if…as if they wanted him to prove her wrong. Eyes—to his utter surprise—that tugged on something deep in his chest and made the aggravation he was feeling slip away inch by
inch.

Yes. Keep looking at me like that, querida.

Warmth pooled in his stomach, and he felt the overwhelming urge to pull her into his arms so he could find out if her skin was as soft as he imagined, so he could make her remember what it had been like between them in Italy.

She tugged her hand back and looked down before he was ready to break the contact. And just like that, whatever gentleness he’d seen flicker in her eyes faded behind her iron shield.

He glanced down and fingered the cold cotton in his hands. So much for that idea. He must have read her wrong. Just like every other time they’d been in the same room together.

She went back to pulling items from the bag. “I would have been back sooner, but I had to wait to pick up the invite. Then I had to find something to wear for tonight. It’s a zoo out there. Took longer than I thought it would.”

She picked up a bag at her feet and handed it to him—not, he noticed, in any way apologizing. “Here. I got you a few things while I was out. You can pay me back later.”

He opened the bag and peered inside. Disbelief knit his brow as he lifted a black thong and held it up by one finger. A paper tag hung from one side. His eyes narrowed on what was obviously not a piece of female lingerie. “This had better be for you.”

When she didn’t respond, his gaze snapped to her. Head down, she continued to paw through a shopping bag. “Lisa?”

She huffed and finally looked up. “I didn’t have a lot of time, and I didn’t feel like guessing about your style.” She pinned him with a look. “For heaven’s sake, it’s just underwear, Sullivan.”

“Real men don’t wear thongs. And I’m not wearing this.” He held it out to her. The scrap wouldn’t cover anything. Especially not anything he had. No doubt she’d bought it just to get under his skin. The woman wasn’t happy unless she was taking cheap shots at him.

“Fine.” She lifted one elegant brow. “Wear your day-old dirty Jockeys. Or go commando. Not my problem.”

“What the hell’s going on in here?”

Shane’s voice from the doorway made them both turn.

Great.

Tension worked its way back into Rafe’s shoulders. Lisa’s brother’s gaze darted from the thong in his hand to Lisa to the rumpled bed and back to Rafe, and there was no missing the back-off-mysister- you-sexual-predator warning in his dark eyes.

Fucking fantastic.

Rafe crumpled the thong and tossed it into the bag in front of him. This day was ranking up there as one of his finest.

“Sullivan’s going to borrow your tux,” Lisa said. “We’re headed to the Landau Gallery’s unveiling tonight.”

“No one’s going commando in my tux.” Shane’s scrutinizing gaze darted to Rafe again.
Lisa’s sarcastic smile followed.

Holy hell. Rafe pinched the bridge of his nose and blew out a long breath. Walking into that damn auditorium in Italy had been the biggest mistake of his life.

Jody Wallace
Lauren Dane
McKenna Jeffries
Moira Rogers
Shelley Munro
Taige Crenshaw
Victoria Janssen
Vivian Arend
Leah Braemel
TJ Michaels
Shelli Stevens
Mark Henry
Shelley Munro
Kelly Maher
Juliana Stone
Michelle Rowen
Ashley Ladd

If you’ve ever been interested in learning how editors come up with back cover copy for books, head over to Romantic Reads today and check out the process. Editor Leah Hultenschmidt is taking readers through her process, and I have to admit, it’s very interesting. On top of that, she’s using my upcoming paranormal release – MARKED – (May, 2010) as her example. And I just LOVE what she came up with for the end result.

And if that weren’t awesome enough…I just received a FABULOUS cover quote for MARKED:

Isn’t that great??? I have a huge grin on my face today.

By the way, these are the postcards I had created to promo MARKED this summer at RWA. Since I obviously didn’t make it to Washington DC for the conference, these didn’t get out. There are elements to this I like, but this is in no way related to the cover of the book. It is, however, something I might be leaning toward as I think about my website redesign. (Haven’t decided quite what I want yet, though.) As for the cover of MARKED, I can’t wait to see what my publisher comes up with. It’ll probably be another month or so before I get to see the cover art, but as soon as I can, I’ll share it here.

Now back to work on the galleys for STOLEN SEDUCTION!

Quick Note…I’m home after my surgery. All went well, though I can’t talk for three days. It’s torture, I tell you. At this point we wait to see if this helps re-awaken the paralyzed vocal cord or not. Time will tell.

In the meantime, since I missed yesterday, I want to give a big shout-out to Bradford Babes who had releases. Cynthia Eden‘s IN THE DARK in BELONG TO THE NIGHT hit shelves yesterday!!

Release Date: September 2009
Publisher: Kensington Aphrodisia
Genre: Paranormal Romance
Length: Novella

Five years ago Gemma gave her heart and soul to a fellow werejaguar only to have him disappear. Now Hunter has come back and kidnapped her on her wedding day in order to make her his again, and he will tempt, tease and taunt her body to the heights of hedonistic pleasure to get exactly what he wants…Big and bold, primal and powerful, these men have a seductive sensuality that no woman can resist.

EXCERPT
“Gemma!” The shrill scream pierced through the woods, filtering past the aged walls of the log cabin. “Oh my God! I can’t believe this. Gemma!”

The sound of feet pounding down the path mingled with the alarmed whimpers and short breaths of the approaching woman.

Gemma’s fingers clenched around the brush in her hand, her pulse quickening as she turned to face the door. Was it too much to hope that it was nothing more than the caterer having encountered a problem?

The door flung open, smashing into the wall. Her younger cousin Megan stepped into the room, eyes wild with panic.

“He’s really coming.”

They were just three words, but they were enough. The brush dropped from Gemma’s hand, and her body went numb with shock.

This was really happening…. No! The room spun and she gripped the vanity table to keep from falling to her knees. No. Was he insane?

“There’s no time.” Megan closed the door, hands shaking. “Shift and then run. Run fast. It’s the only way you can possibly escape him.”

“How far away is he?” Gemma’s voice came out remarkably calm as she fumbled to undo the buttons on her wedding dress.

The cold fear began to subside, and a hot burn of rage blazed through her. How dare he? After five years, how dare he?

Megan grabbed her arm and tugged her toward the door. “A mile. Maybe. And he’s not alone, Gemma. He’s brought friends. You must hurry! There’s no time to change out of your dress. Run, and I’ll find Jeffrey and tell him what’s happened.”

“My dress will be ruined during transition—”

Crash!

The door broke in half, and splinters of wood shot into the interior of the cabin like tiny missiles.

Heart in her throat, Gemma retreated, her body trembling as she stared at the man who now filled the doorway.

The man who’d just made good on the appallingly dark promise he’d made just days ago in an e-mail. She’d been half convinced it was a joke—someone toying with her heart—and had told Megan as much.

But it wasn’t a joke. The proof was standing in front of her eyes. Maybe a couple of years ago she would have wished for this, but not now. Dammit, not now!

Sweat clung to the hard muscles of Hunter’s nude body—it was clear he’d just shifted back to human form. A familiar heat crept through her body, and she hardened her jaw, refusing to acknowledge it. The same way she’d refused to acknowledge it for the last five years.

It was hard not to, though, with his dark hair and tan body. He was tall and broad, a mass of muscles and ridges.
Her gaze dropped, and her cheeks burned hot. She swallowed hard, unable to tear her gaze from his hard thighs and the thick cock that rested between them.

The blood raged through her veins, and she closed her eyes to count to ten. When she opened them again, her gaze was firmly back to his face, unwilling to let her eyes shift any lower than his shoulders this time, for that would be a guaranteed diversion from finding a way out of this situation.

Unfortunately, five years had done nothing but enhance Hunter’s raw sex appeal.

His eyes, burning like dark blue crystals, met hers. And like the devil come to collect his due, he advanced into the room, his face a mask of fierce determination.

Oh, God. She needed to act. Now. Swallowing against the thickness in her throat, Gemma glanced around the room, looking for anything that might be used as a weapon. She grabbed the chair from her vanity table and lifted it above her head with a grunt.

Hunter lunged forward and knocked it from her grasp, sending it crashing to the ground behind her. Before she could draw in a startled breath, he’d circled her wrists with one of his massive hands and pulled her body firmly against the rock hard wall of his chest.

“No!” She growled and lifted her knee to tag him in the groin, but he blocked the shot.

Instead, he pulled her tighter against him and forced his thigh between hers. His thick cock brushed her hip and she stilled, barely able to breathe as her heart slammed against her ribcage.

His soft laugh feathered warmth against her cheek. “You should have listened to your cousin, angel.” He leaned forward and said softly against her ear, “You should have run.”

These are from Friday night at the Powell’s book club event.

So after Friday night’s event I think I’m glad I’m having the vocal surgery. I talked more than I probably should have, but not more than any normal person. However, I was hating life later that night and the next day. My throat hurt, my voice sounded awful and the whole thing just reinforced my decision to get to the bottom of my vocal problem. I can’t go through life with this voice–not if I ever plan to talk to anyone.

In other news…last night I had an epiphany on the wip! I don’t plot books out ahead of time…I sort of write into the mist, as I call it. But last night the ending came to me, which is SUCH a relief because I’ve been starting to stress on how I’m going to work this one out. I love it when solutions just pop into my brain like magic.

I’ll probably be off-line a good portion of tomorrow while I’m having my surgery, but I’ll be back on Wed. to let you all know how it went. In the meantime…anyone have any good book recommendations for me? I think I may need something to read during my recovery tomorrow night. Since I’m book-less right now (I finished The Madness of Lord Ian MacKenzie and loved it) and have to go out today anyway to run a few errands, I feel a book store stop in my near future.

Check it out…STOLEN SEDUCTION is available for preorder on Amazon, complete with cover image and everything!

Last night was the Powell’s Cheeky Pages book club meeting. (Isn’t that title just great!) They read STOLEN FURY for their August book and invited me to come up and be part of the discussion. I have to say, I was a little nervous – all those people having read the book! – but it was very fun. Of course, everyone loved it (how could they not?! LOL) and there were some very nice comments that ranged from “This was better than the Nora Roberts book we read last month,” to “This needs to be made into a movie, to “You totally stumped me with the villain.”

And thanks to all who gave me SWAG suggestions! Since the book club read STOLEN FURY, I put together goodie bags for everyone that included 1st chapter sample books of STOLEN HEAT, bookmarks and chocolate. During the meeting we had a trivia session where I handed out prizes to winners, and at the end I raffled off a treasure hunt gift basket. My good friend Lisa took pictures, so when I get them from her, I’ll post them here for you to see.

I also got some great feedback that will help with my upcoming paranormal series…mainly, readers suggested a glossary for non-English terms would be helpful and that they want a teaser preview for what’s coming up in the next book in the series. I will, of course, mention these to my publisher, but final say on adding items like this is up to them, not me.

On September 18th I’ll be back up at Powell’s for their Fall Romance Event where many Pacific Northwest romance authors gather to sign books and conduct a Q&A session. If you’re in the area, you should stop by and check it out. It’s a fun event.

And before I forget, I have to mention the book I’m reading now. THE MADNESS of LORD IAN MACKENZIE. I’ve never really been a huge fan of historicals, but the premise for this book – a hero with aspergers autism – really intrigued me. And I’m so glad I picked it up. I am LOVING this book! Jennifer Ashley writes a to-die-for hero. If you like historicals (or even if you’ve never read one before) you should definitely give this one a try.

Now I must get back to the kitchen. Tomorrow we’re hosting a big bbq and there’s still lots to do. I haven’t cooked this much since…well, I can’t remember when! But it should be fun. We’re doing a Hawaiian Luau bbq with lots of yummy food. It’s definitely putting me in the mood to travel to the islands.

Aloha for now!

Have you ever written A Dear John letter? Not so easy to do. And I dare say it’s even harder when you’re a writer in love.

Check this out. So so SO good…A Dear John Letter.

I think I have post-contest let-down. LOL After a month of whirlwind blog guests and giveaways, my measly posts feel rather boring.

Ah, well…

I mentioned below that I was in Montana all last week visiting family. My SIL (brilliant!) is an econ professor at the University of Montana in Missoula. My brother is going to grad school at Montana State in Bozeman. I, of course, didn’t realize they belonged to two different schools until my brother gave me an MSU sweatshirt that was too small for him and claimed his wife would never wear it. Quick, I am, I tell you…but that’s a whole other story. Montana is beautiful, and we had a great trip. And a road trip right after the release of STOLEN HEAT was a good idea because I got to sign stock all over the Northwest.

So now that I’m back from vacation, my blog appearances for HEAT are winding down and I’m feeling human again, I’m back at the grindstone working on that second paranormal book. It feels good to be a working member of society again, and in another three weeks my house will be quiet so I can actually get work done during the day.

This Friday I’m the guest at the Beaverton Powell’s book club meeting. They chose STOLEN FURY for their August read and asked me to come up and visit about the book. I’ll be signing, answering questions and chatting about FURY and HEAT and the whole Stolen Series. If you’re in the area, the book club meets in the World Cup cafe, just outside the Beaverton Powell’s store. Meeting starts at 7pm.

And then…lucky me…I get to have throat surgery next week to try to repair the damage done to my vocal chords from my hospital stay in June. This first surgery is really minor – just to close the open (paralyzed) left vocal chord and try to figure out what the real problem is. I don’t expect it to be a big issue except for the general anesthesia (oh, joy!) and the fact I can’t talk at all for three days after. (Obviously, my doctor has never been to my house…he has no idea what this is going to be like for me…) But, the good news is hopefully after this surgery I will no longer sound like the 2-pack a day lifelong smoker I sound like now. (And no, I’m not now, nor have I ever been, a smoker.)

Okay, I think I rambled enough. I do have a question I need help with tho…for the Powell’s book club meeting on Friday, the organizer told me to bring whatever SWAG I wanted. I’m not so hip on the urban dictionary, so I had to look it up. I’m guessing she didn’t mean ‘scientific wild ass guess’ though I like that and now have to figure out a way to slip that into a book somewhere. I’m assuming she meant ‘stuff we all get’. So……..you tell me…what kind of giveaways should I take to the book club meeting? What would you like to get?

This is Shane & Hailey’s book, so you don’t want to miss it. Be sure to check my blog and website for info on this new, hot book and the fun contest I’ll be running.

Now, I know you’re all waiting for me to stop rambling so you can find out who the winners are. So without further adieu, here they are…

Winners, please email me at elisabeth@elisabethnaughton.com with your snail mail and email info. I hope you enjoy your prizes!

Hey all,

I was in Montana all last week, so I didn’t get a chance to post the daily winners. But here they (finally) are!!

Congrats to all the winners! Please email me at elisabeth@elisabethnaughton.com with your info (email and snail mail addys) so I can forward your info to the respective authors.

Thanks to all who entered the daily giveaways and helped spread the word about my STOLEN HEAT Release Contest! I’ll be posting First, Second, & Third Place Winners by 8pm PST tonight!!!

Today is your LAST day to enter my STOLEN HEAT Release Contest! I’ll be taking entries up through 11:59 PST tonight! Don’t miss out!

Oh, and I have good tidings of romantic joy! I have a holiday anthology coming out September 29th this year. USA Today Bestseller Jennifer Ashley, Alissa Johnson and I have teamed up to bring readers A CHRISTMAS BALL. The characters in all our stories will be attending the same grand event (even though a few of mine do not have invitations!). But YOU are definitely on the guest list. Please visit www.emilybryan.com to try an excerpt.

3) What’s the best compliment you ever got on your writing or book(s)?
“You kept me up all night.” is hand’s down the nicest thing a reader has ever told me. The best thing I’ve ever heard from another writer was, “You make me forget I’m a writer, too.”

4) What’s your writing schedule like?
I’m blessed to be able to write full-time now. I fiddle with my blog and emails till about 9 AM, then I turn on my writing music and get to work. I like to pick an instrumental movie soundtrack to write my stories to because there are no lyrics to distract me and a soundtrack covers a wide range of emotions. Plus when revisions come back, the music will put me right back into the world of my story. It’s like an autonomic response.

I break at noon for lunch and watch something on HG TV (I’m fascinated by people doing clever things with their interior design, but am quite satisfied with my white walls, thank you.) Then I head back to the world of my story. I aim for 10 pages a day. When I hit a wall, I spend 30 minutes on the treadmill, walk the dogs, or (as a last resort) do housework till the scene becomes clear in my mind. When my DH comes home from work, I’m home from work, too.

When I first started writing, I had a 40 hour a week day job as a banker. My DH says I enslaved people to debt by day and lust by night! Back then my page goal was 2 a day during the week. I’d jot down a couple paragraphs while I waited for my teammate to open the bank with me in the morning. I’d think about the scene I was working on if I got a minute during the day and after supper, I’d park myself in front of the computer and I couldn’t get up until I finished the 2 pages. On Saturday, my DH would clean and do laundry so I could write 10 pages, and on Sunday, I did 5. In this manner, I finished a 400 page manuscript every 4 months. It’s grueling, but totally doable.

5) If you could be one character from any book you’re read or written who would it be and why?
My goodness, I can’t limit it to just one. I’m like Ben Affleck in Shakespeare in Love when he bursts back into the theatre with a flourish of his cape. “Silence, you dog!” he says. “I am Hieronimo. I am Tamburlaine. I am Faustus. I am Barabbas, the Jew of Malta. Oh, yes Master Will, I am Henry the Sixth. What is the play and what is my part?”

I am every character I’ve ever written or read. We read to try on other people’s lives, to experience their triumphs and failures. Sorry, Elisabeth. I could never pick just one.

Thanks so much for having me here today. I’d like to offer a copy of VEXING THE VISCOUNT to someone who leaves a comment or question for me. Let me kick off the discussion by asking your readers a question.

Do you prefer alpha heroes or beta heroes?