When the time comes for my next blog here my book will be off the shelves to make room for April’s Blazes. It’s been lovely to wander into bookstores, grocery stores and even drugstores to sign the copies of Possessing Morgan.

In one drugstore the Customer Service clerk I spoke with thought I was saying that I was the model on the cover! Ahem, I’ve never been brunette and it’s quite awhile since I could be mistaken for twenty-five. The poor woman looked like she was about to call for security when I pointed at my name and said, “No, I’m not the model. I wrote this book.”

In another store I had the Assistant Manager ask me for identification. Luckily I had my business cards with me. My comment to her was, “Hey, if I were going to impersonate a writer, it would be a famous one…not me!”

I guess I’ve gotten used to signing books in my local bookstore chain where they know me and my books. Having Possessing Morgan all over town has been a joy. My friends have seen it and reported sightings in other places, too. It came out in audio format right away and a reader emailed to let me know she’d found it at www.audible.com How cool is that?

I’ve also been garnering reviews from other sites on the web as well.

Harriet Klausner gave the book 4 stars and says: “This is an exhilarating romantic suspense although the thriller elements take a backseat (figuratively not literally) to the growing love between the lead couple. Morgan with her history and her current occupation brings the freshness to this fun brisk tale.”

And from Night Owl Romance’s Diana Coyle: . . . “All I can say is this story was HOT! I’m pretty certain steam was coming off the pages as I was reading them. Morgan and Mac were fantastic together and their chemistry was sizzling. I couldn’t put this story down and once you start reading it, I assure you you’ll feel the same way. Ms. Edwards created fun characters and a great storyline that will pull you in quickly and leaving you panting for more. I would highly recommend this story to other readers!

Diana gave Possessing Morgan a 4 out of 5 rating which Night Owl says is “a page turner”. A lovely ranking!

I’ve had a wonderful month! Spring’s in the air, my Blaze is still on shelves for another few days. Because I’m feeling a touch of Spring fever I’m giving away 1 copy of Possessing Morgan for the best “miscommunication” story we get here today.

I’ll post the winner at around 8 p.m. Eastern. So, what’s your story? Where has a conversation gone wrong for you? (Seriously, that clerk looked desperate for help – ack! A lunatic thinks she’s a gorgeous 20 something romance cover model – I’m still chuckling!)

I’m pumped!

As I write this I have ten more days to wait for the release of Possessing Morgan. I received my author copies when I returned from a tour through California in January.

Yes, we drove through downpours. (LA was a mess – they have a hard time remembering that those first rains loosen the slick oil that accumulates in the dry season)

Hearst Castle was closed because of high winds that rattled off some roof tiles. The tourist pavilion was littered with buckets to collect the rain. But the surf at San Simeon was spectacular.

And Carmel? Marvelous. Just marvelous. The storms created high waves and beautiful light and dark skies over the ocean. It’s special to see a storm approach.

None of those sights were as thrilling as holding my first Blaze. It’s a beautiful book filled with words I wrote. (G) The back cover copy is brilliant and I couldn’t have written it if I’d had a gun to my head. This captures the book exactly:

He’s everything she’s ever wanted . . .

Repo woman Morgan Swann can hardly believe it. She’s been hopelessly infatuated with headline-stealing heartthrob Kingston “Mac” McRae for most of her life . . . and now she’s in his driveway, about to repossess his fancy car. If only she could pick up the rest of him so easily . . .

Mac can’t believe, it either. His car is being stolen. . . but all he can think about is getting the sexy-as-hell Morgan into the the backseat. And their engines only rev hotter once she shows him how easily her Daisy Duke shorts come off.

It’s a sweaty, fast ride — the ultimate thrill. Until Morgan realizes she wants not only the fantasy, but the key to Mac’s heart as well.

I’m especially happy with the 4 Star review from RT BookReviews Magazine that reads:

POSSESSING MORGAN (4) by Bonnie Edwards:* Repo woman Morgan Swann loves her job. As a teenager she got into trouble for stealing cars, but she’s pulled her life together, using an early crush on playboy Kingston McRae as inspiration. She decided to make herself into someone she could imagine with him. When Morgan gets a chance to re-possess a car on his estate, she jumps at it. But not so fast. Kingston has a serious stalker who’s threatening him and those around him. When Morgan becomes entangled in his life, will either be safe? Edwards combines very hot sex with an unusual heroine to make her latest a winner.

*—Page Traynor*

To celebrate the upcoming release, I’m going to offer a signed copy of Possessing Morgan to one lucky commenter today. What the heck…let’s make it two!

I’ll announce the winners at approximatley 8 p.m. Eastern time…

I think I know why people read romances. I figured that out at thirteen when I found a Harlequin Presents left behind at the family cottage. But why write romance when there are so many “loftier” forms of literature?

Way back when I first decided to write a novel, I was thrilled to join a small, apparently dedicated group of writers who met once a week in a community building. They were “fiction writers” and I joined with bright-eyed enthusiasm and barrels of energy, eager to learn and absorb all they were willing to share.

The group consisted of a retired English teacher, an extremely talented writer married to a musician who was convinced he was the only creative in the family and she didn’t deserve the time to study craft or to write. There was a family man who wanted to write adventure. Another member sold non-fiction articles and had a fabulous idea for a women’s fiction novel. We had a woman married to a professor (for some reason she thought his position was relevant in terms of her ‘standing’ in the group) She was convinced that literary fiction was the only thing worth writing.

I found this group in October of that year…and had already begun my first romance novel. By January, I’d completed a partial and had queried Harlequin to see if they’d be interested. I never considered not querying. The whole thing of you write, you submit, you write, you submit just made sense.

Apparently I was alone in that theory. As time moved along, I realized not a one of them had ever submitted their work (aside from the article writer that is).

The retired teacher was actually afraid of what her family would think. This was a woman well into her middle years who’d raised a family, had a successful career and a genuine love of the written word.

By the next fall, I’d had my first rejection from Harlequin, (the first of many!) had found the local chapter of RWA, and was working on a new story. I wrote, I submitted, I wrote . . .

The chance to do a reading from our works in progress came to the group. I was asked not to read. Why? Because I wrote romance, and you know, they didn’t want the writing group’s rep to be tarnished. Huh.

I went to the reading: heard a member read a poem by Robbie Burns instead of his own work. Other people in the group finally admitted they hadn’t actually been writing and had nothing to read.

And these people were encouraging me to stop writing romance. Huh.

I write romance because I believe in romance. I believe love is what makes us get up in the morning. It is a driving force in our lives. Love makes us connect with others, makes us have pets, makes our lives glorious and miserable and messy and beautiful.

Love makes life . . . life

. . . and I wouldn’t trade my romance writing for anything else.

And if I feel a twinge of validation for my efforts and in my career I hope you’ll forgive me. There’s a five year old in most of us who gets a one-shot at blowing raspberries and when my first Harlequin Blaze hits the stands in a few weeks, imagine me, mouth pursed, blowing the biggest juiciest raspberry EVAH! (K)

Here we are in the last few days before Christmas. The shopping’s (mostly) done, the baking’s been done (if it’s like my house it’s also been eaten so you have to bake more), the decorating’s behind you and so is the office party.

Time to settle in and let the spirit of the season enfold you. Your evenings can turn from frantic mall hopping to wrapping gifts. Each gift a reminder of the person you bought or made it for. A moment, as it were, of connection with them through the simple act of wrapping.

About the wrapping. I can’t let this one go so I have to share it here. When our children were little and I was run off my feet with the hectic holiday rush, my husband would take Christmas Eve to wrap all the presents. All of them. (Except his own, of course.) And wow, what a relief that was for me. One of the best gifts he could have given me.

The other day he was talking to a young man in our life and the talk turned to Christmas traditions. My husband blurted, “Well, a few years back, we had real Christmas with wrapped presents. Now, all you get is Christmas-in-a-bag.”

The young man laughed, but in that bit of humor, my husband let me know that he misses his Christmas Eve wrapfest. He misses wrapping gifts for his little children, (all grown) for my parents (gone now), for me (who has a lot more time than before and actually uses the bags). So, I’ve decided that this year, I’m giving him back his traditional wrapping night. I’ll go to our Christmas Eve service alone and he can stay home and wrap gifts. (G)

But I digress and must find some way back to my point. Aha! Yes, with the evening rush winding down, and the reruns of Christmas movies underway, you may find yourself in need of some quiet time.

Reading time. Oh, yes. Let me get back to my reading! Let my new pup find pleasure in sitting on my feet while I sip from a mug of hot chocolate by the fire. Let him please stop tugging bulbs off the tree, dragging Christmas cards and envelopes around the house. (Eating dryer lint!) Let him please understand the idea of peaceful repose and a gentle pat on the head.

Please let him stop chasing the cat in and around the decorated tree. Let him be the good pup I’m showing the world at my feet in my office as I write this.

And please, let my husband enjoy his wrapping and his memories of Christmases past.

Even more, please have our fabulous Blaze readers continue to enjoy the stories we weave, and to have a safe and happy holiday season.

From my heart to yours: Happy Happy Holidays and may 2010 bring bountiful blessings to everyone.

(O) Last week I finished work on the galleys for Possessing Morgan and since it was a Sunday, decided to go out for dinner to celebrate. Our favorite pizza joint had moved and become more upscale and now had actual tablecloths rather than paper placemats.

All reports were that the new management had done a good job because the food’s “delicious”. So, I get out of my sweats, slip into my stylin’ cords and a new sweater and off we go.

Perched on a cliff, we got a window seat with a distant view to sigh over. Romantic wine, (D) soft music and chat about our very first date, which coincidentally was at a hole-in-the-wall pizza joint where we ordered a small pizza and sodas. That was some time ago. As I recall a T-Rex lumbered by the window . . . but I digress.

I said the distant view was pretty, right? Well, immediately below the cliff we spy several businesses with quiet back streets and delivery lanes. We’re seated above a store that sells automotive parts, a car rental place, a car detailing shop and facing the main thoroughfare, a long-established floral business.

I notice that a van pulls up outside the florist’s shop. Nothing happens. No one exits the van for ages…at least two whole minutes. (Which to me means the guy’s busy re-wrapping body parts that have come unrolled from the carpet he used to drag … sorry, again, digressing.) :-O

My husband (a non-writer), says the van must be occupied by a cleaner who’s getting his equipment ready. Sure enough a dark figure climbs out of the van and opens the back. Some kind of delivery, we decide.

And then, another van shows up and parks directly behind the first one. A helper? No.

No one gets out of that van, either. Not in two minutes, not in five minutes. Ten minutes later the delivery van driver returns from inside the florist’s shop and puts his cart away in the back. He eventually drives off, leaving the second van alone on the side street with some mysterious person still inside.

Did I mention there seemed to be a light glowing inside this second van?

By now, my pizza’s all but forgotten (so’s the husband, if I must confess) as I stare intently out the window, down the cliff to mystery van number two. I’m mumbling about bodies, or drug deals and police surveillance.

Finally my husband says, “Enough Columbo, it’s probably just some guy on the phone.” (Did I mention dinosaurs roamed when I met my hubby? The proof is in his reference to Columbo.)

Right, we’re here for dinner. We’re here to celebrate me getting my galleys in and a new release in a few days. We finish our meal while I glance surreptitiously down the cliff and wonder. . . .

We finish our lovely meal and when we pull out of the parking lot, my husband (did I also tell you he’s definite hero material?) drives around the block and back again in order to go down the cliff on the one way street below the restaurant so as to creep past mystery van number two.

Excitement rises as we approach the van. And yes! There’s a light on inside. What terrible deeds are happening in there? What reason could there be for a van to pull up behind another and just sit? Clearly, there are nefarious dealings afoot.

We cruise by slowly, windows up and doors locked, while I crane my neck to ogle the perfectly ordinary man on his phone with a map open across his steering wheel.

My husband, bless his heart, didn’t even laugh at me. But it didn’t matter one whit, because I’d already decided he was a hit man calling his contact for directions to his next hit. (I)

The mind of a writer is a glorious thing. If one plot won’t work, we always have another in our back pocket.

October 20th and there’s no doubt that Autumn is here. There’s even the odd report of the S word that ends in W. Yes. S-N-O-W.

Falling. On the ground in fluffy flakes or pelting down like sleet. (another ugly S word)

I enjoyed the sight of a golden yellow tree the other day…perfectly shaped and splendiferous in its Autumn coat. Two days later it was naked, and made me shiver for its bare, spare silhouette. Poor thing.

However, I do have an antidote for these upcoming chilly afternoons and evenings.

One Blaze Novel recipe:

Take one gorgeous man and a beautifully sexual woman

Add some conflict in doses both internal and external

Whip into a fun, exciting plot

Add one cup of tea, (C) (a glass of wine (D) or a mug of cocoa if tea isn’t your cuppa) take a couple of hours under a warm blanket with soft lighting at your shoulder and read.

Serves one (Can be stretched to serve a significant other if read aloud) (K) (L)

I don’t know that I’ve ever mentioned how much I love the Blaze Encounters. Short, hot, spicy enough to sting the tongue, the Encounters are short reads with connected stories. Right now, I’m reading Stephanie Bond’s Seduction By the Book. This is an idea that makes me smack my forehead and say, “Why didn’t I think of that?”(I)

I’m curious what our readers here think of the Encounters. Are they satisfying as romances or do they simply whet the appetite?

I’m fine tuning my March release, POSSESSING MORGAN. A fresh set of revisions have just come in, and while I worked on them the other day, I realized that what we were doing was putting the finishing touches on my heroine, Morgan Swann. She’s being buffed and polished into the best Blaze heroine I can create.

I’m not new to writing. I’ve published fairly steadily with a publishing house in NYC and teach writing classes at a couple of nearby university campuses in their continuing ed program.

But writing for Blaze has been eye-opening. This revision means
I’m going deeper into the details. The word-by-word work that takes a good story with decent writing into as shiny a piece as I can make it.

UHHHHH, so is this the point to change motivations? My actual character? Tweaking is one thing…but a change to what makes her tick?

I thought so. At least in the heat of the moment I did. I was rocking my way through the first love scene, responding to some of the revisions when suddenly, I “saw” the light and thought I’d change Morgan’s whole attitude toward the event. Clever me.

But this is my very first Blaze and I’m working with one of the best editors in the business with a reputation for whipping stories into shape. So, off goes an email with a question.

I’m so sure of myself and so high on creativity, my confidence soars and I go back up a few pages and layer in the new ‘tude. I’m happy, I’m laughing as I work, loving the whole thing. ACK, not so fast, Edwards. I get the reply, “I can see this after a few days, but not right off.”

Huh, I nod. Later, yes. I see it now. Clear as day…a heroine needs change, needs to grow and learn. I mean, heck if they knew everything right up front, there wouldn’t be much emotional connection for readers. Who cheers for perfect people? We all like to see the underdog win, right?

Back up to the start of the scene I go…this time, though, I’ve got a combination scene of the original heroine, and my new improved heroine which is too soon. I comb through with a meticulous eye. Deleting, rewriting, adding emotion, removing the wrong emotions, the too-soon thoughts.

Then I go eat lunch. I’m feeling pretty good while I’m eating that cheese sandwich and saying: “Go pee! Good boy!” to my new pup. After he gets some loving for peeing like a big boy does, I check email. (&)

Then I open my word processing program and realize, hm, I didn’t actually close it before I went for lunch. My file opens, but ACK! It’s the original file I opened this morning. Not one change had been saved. :-O

Now, before I’m scolded for not backing up, I’ll say the program’s set for back up every 10 minutes. At worst, that’s all I should have lost. But no! It’s all gone. I let my cursor hover over the file name and yes, there it is…last change was at 8:30 a.m.

I’ve written on computers for 20 years now, 6 of those years I worked in a custom computer shop. So, I know about back ups, I email my work to gmail as back up…I transfer files to my laptop. I do lots of things to protect myself. But still, I lost an entire day’s revisions.

I send Brenda a quick note and conclude that somehow, someway, the universe was telling me to get a good night’s sleep and come at this whole thing again, refreshed, in the morning. The universe was right! Next morning, I went straight back into the original scene and I could see what Brenda meant, as clearly as if the other attitude never occurred to me.

(Odd, but my horoscope that day said puzzle pieces would fall into place…and did you all know Mercury’s retrograde?)

Because of this glitch (the likes of which I’ve NEVER seen before) I came at the scene from Brenda’s perspective and WOW, it works. And yes, Morgan’s new attitude will work well later in the book.

Thing is, I made a huge mistake later that day, by telling my adult daughter about this piece of weirdness. What did I get? Sympathy you say? NOPE, not from this one. I get a lecture about backing up, external hard drives and moving to a Mac. Did I need this? After the day I’d had? Not on your life. What is it about lectures from your children that put your teeth on edge?

The other day I was stumped on the road to the end of my work in progress, so I phoned a friend (yes like that game show where you get to call for help) to discuss where I was in my story and where I could go from there.

I often get stumped at the same place: three quarters of the way through, where I’m juggling all the threads at the same time. I fret and walk around the house, basically talking to myself. Sometimes the talk gets dark, dreary and repetitive and I become afraid I’ll never find my way to the end.

Sooner or later, I realize I need to talk it out.

My friend and I chatted as I paced the house, and realized writing a book is like that famous yellow brick road. I always end up at that spot where the sign reads, “I’d go back if I were you.”

The forest is haunted, creepy as all get out and there’s a fraidy cat inside who wants to turn tail and run. Except there’s no point going back, we know what’s on the road behind us and none of the things back there will take us where we want to go: home! We must forge ahead in spite of the dreariness of the road.:-O

On the yellow brick road the scarecrow gets the stuffing torn out of him. He needs his friends to collect all the straw and put him back together.

With writing, there’s a point in every story where all the threads you exposed at the beginning are floating free. Sooner or later, those threads need to be woven into the fabric of the story.

I need to pick up all those threads, one at a time and tie up each one. The lightest thread first, then a heavier one, then the next and the next until everything is resolved and we’re where we want to be: at a happy ending, or, home.

Now, if I could just find a way to avoid all the fretting and pacing and realize I’m headed for that haunted forest *before* I get there, I could avoid the battle with the flying monkeys. (That’s a whole other blog.):-[

I’ve recently updated my website with pictures and news. I can hardly wait to share my Blaze cover! The artwork for Possessing Morgan has begun, so I’ll show it off just as soon as I can.

One of the updates I did was to change the release date on Possessing Morgan to March 2010. I’ve already heard from a reviewer that she’s waiting anxiously for my first Blaze, so I’m excited to get feedback from people who love the line. Blaze readers rock!

I’m on Twitter now (@BonnieEdwards) and am offering a newsletter on my site as well. If you like getting newsy bits, please click on over and subscribe.

Life’s sweet, enjoy it!

Reading romantic fiction is a wonderful way to explore all sorts of fantasies: sexual, lifestyle and even automotive!

Anyone who reads Blaze romances understands the appeal of reading sexual fantasy from a woman’s perspective. We want romance, passion that’s ours alone (Romeos and hound dogs need not apply), and an intense physical connection.

With lifestyle fantasy we get to see how the other half lives. Whether we’re broke and dreaming of winning that jackpot lottery, to being city-bound and dreaming of wide-open spaces and sky, to being surrounded by desert and dreaming of life onboard a luxury yacht or cruise ship. Or vice versa. We can read a Blaze romance and live out a delicious fantasy in a setting totally removed from our everyday existence.

I included the automotive fantasy selfishly because I love cars. I love to drive different types of cars…old ones, muscle cars, the new version of muscle cars, British, Japanese, hybrids, antique you name it: I drive them. Not literally, of course.

I indulge that fantasy because I write. Years ago, I figured out that I’d never be able to drive a classic Ford Mustang (the new retro style is fine!) because of the leg room I need. Well, I could if it had an automatic transmission, but where’s the fun in that? So I gave my dream car to a heroine. She appeared in my first published novel in the spring of 2001, driving a ’65 red convertible.

Next I wanted to indulge my fantasies by writing about a mechanic-to-the-stars hero, who worked only on classic cars. A ton of fun for me! I drove a fun sporty car at the time, but I knew I’d be trading it in soon. I wanted to keep that car with me so I wrote it into the story.

As much as I love my fantasy cars, I’ve never had one on a cover. Until now. This month the art department will be doing a photo shoot for Possessing Morgan. (Y) They’ll use a British Morgan (Y) (Y) on the cover with my tow trucker heroine and my tycoon hero: she’ll be wearing work boots and Daisy Duke shorts. He won’t!

Ah! The fantasy life of a writer. If you could indulge your fantasies what would they be: sexual? Lifestyle? Automotive? I’m sure my automotive fantasy may be a tad unconventional for most women. But, you know, it’s mine and I love that I get to indulge it. (Having said this: I’m just now back from a Nissan dealership and a major drool over their new 370Z — Oh! Baby!)

I would love to hear from readers about favorite fantasies as lived in Blaze novels. And if your fantasy is a little…um, unconventional, (H) then I’d love to hear that too!

I’d like to say from the cabbage patch, or even that a stork delivers them in the dead of night, but the truth is, heroines are born in weird and interesting ways.

A lot of times secondary characters scream out for books of their own. Sometimes readers will ask so often about a background character the seed for a new heroine is fertilized. Voila! A connected story comes about.

Connected stories please the readers, editors (and marketing folk) like them and writers get to play in a familiar world again. Readers aren’t the only ones curious about former lead characters. Writers want to know how they’re doing, too.

On occasion heroines appear not from inside a story, but from outside, so to speak.

Take Morgan Swann, for example. She’s my heroine in Possessing Morgan. (March 2010 – seems so far away, doesn’t it?)

I was working on another story entirely. This one was aimed at a different Harlequin line altogether, when I realised my heroine would have known (and still did) people who walked on the far side of the law. Growing up in her neighborhood, it would have been impossible to avoid knowing some rough characters, or schoolmates headed down different, and more dangerous, paths. At some point, her best friend fell into stealing cars.

Fast cars. Expensive cars. Morgan stole for money, yes.

But more for the thrill.

And that, my friends, was a lightning bolt moment.

Morgan Swann never set foot in the story I was writing, but she existed for me. Fully formed. She was feisty, tough and out for herself. She was scared, but loved the thrill of boosting cars, the hunt, the adrenaline rush of excitement.

I loved this teenager. She had her reasons for falling in with the bad crowd: frail, scaredy-cat human reasons. The universality of her need as a powerless teenager spoke to me. She broke my heart.

No sooner had she walked on stage, than I wondered how to make her a heroine. I loved this character too much not to try to give her a happily ever after. Even bad girls can be brought back from the brink. Right?

So, a reformed bad girl who no longer steals cars, but who’s still feisty, still determined and still chasing the thrill.

What better place to write her story, than in a Blaze?