tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10823512545715718902024-02-07T13:15:47.057+11:00Elise K. Ackers - The Write FrequencyWriting blog of romantic suspense, contemporary romance and young adult author Elise K. Ackers. Elise is published with Penguin Random House and Harlequin's Escape Publishing.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00089361440943581487noreply@blogger.comBlogger24125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1082351254571571890.post-53172620890420046432017-10-11T11:38:00.000+11:002017-10-11T11:38:36.256+11:00The Art of NothingLast night I did an incredible thing: nothing.<br />
<br />
As a self-confessed stress-head, this is quite a note-worthy occasion. I'm the kind of person who is always considering time; how much of it something or someone will use, how much of it has passed, what I can best do with my time... If I could take a measuring tape to time, I would. <br />
<br />
Two weeks ago I slipped whilst on a bush walk and bruised my ribs, and despite the acute pain, I kept going. I still applied adhesive window film to seven windows, built a pallet sofa, painted and attached privacy screens, and hosted two parties. I went to work. I wrote my books. And yes, all of that made the pain worse and lengthened my recovery time. I haven't slept painlessly for a fortnight.<br />
<br />
I don't pretend to always make the best decisions. I just have a hard time being idle.<br />
<br />
There is always something on. Give me three colourful balls and I will make a clumsy spectacle of myself, but I can juggle life like a tenured circus performer.<br />
<br />
I work full time. I write when I can (in the last month I've finished writing two books, submitted a book to publishers, applied for a grant, edited a manuscript, and outlined another work-in-progress) and I've just moved into a new house, so there's lots to be done. I see my family and friends when I can, and of course, I have my husband and fur family - the best time-sucks of my life.<br />
<br />
I'm not saying I'm unique in this. We're all busy. I don't have kids and I don't have a particularly big commute to work, so I have more time available to me than others, but I am saying that I don't have an off button.<br />
<br />
Which is why it was particularly unusual for me to come home yesterday and do what I did. <br />
<br />
My husband was out, I had the house to myself. Before I'd even set my bag down I was mentally listing what could be done before climbing gingerly into bed. But between the front door and the couch, I changed my mind. I just ... sat. I binged on the first season of Younger - one episode after the next - even after my husband came home to find me still in my work clothes in the same position I'd fallen in hours earlier. I skipped dinner. I didn't close the blinds. I didn't even turn the lights on, so I was sitting in the dark. Hell, I'm lucky my respiratory system is a sub-conscious function!<br />
<br />
I can honestly say, that was the absolute best use of my time in that moment.<br />
<br />
Things didn't get done. They were delayed a day and the world didn't end. I actually <em>watched</em> the TV instead of glancing at it between laptop tasks. It was self-indulgent and it was perfect.<br />
<br />
Some of you may be reading this post and thinking, "So what?", but I'm celebrating. It might be weeks or months before I do this again and I want to mark the moment so that one day in the future, I can look back and remind myself that the world didn't end when I stopped blurring around the edges. Some of us wear our busy-ness like a badge of honour and I'm not saying that's wrong, but wow, it felt good to just put everything down for a night.<br />
<br />
Still waiting on that human cloning technology. It should be any day now.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00089361440943581487noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1082351254571571890.post-58369449981903172652015-01-20T08:00:00.000+11:002015-01-20T09:43:23.798+11:00Limbo<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Something that kept me busy during a lunch break when I was at loose ends.</span></div>
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<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00089361440943581487noreply@blogger.com0Ballarat VIC, Australia-37.5636495 143.8671868-37.966445 143.22173980000002 -37.160853999999993 144.5126338tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1082351254571571890.post-1387873532593306142014-10-17T13:07:00.000+11:002014-10-17T13:07:45.686+11:00#TheRegulars<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<br />
The process of writing a book is a personal one. I've never met two writers whose processes are alike, but I have met enough to know that the above image would resonate with many. Our self-confidence fluctuates, our enthusiasm wilts then revives. It's a see-saw, a swing, a frikkin' roundabout of emotions that range from energising to debilitating.<br />
<br />
At the time of this blog post, I am within two pages of finishing a novella due for release in early 2015. When I first started writing <em>Driftwood Summer</em> (working title), I was unstoppable. I missed meals. I jabbered about these characters like they were best friends. Now, I'm self-shaming myself into finishing, because my mind's already moved on to new characters. Better friends.<br />
<br />
It's often this way for me. I need to knock out the ending fast, or I lose momentum and get cranky. Watch me, by the end of today I'll have written 'The End' and completely forgotten the struggle to get there. "It was a joy!" I'll crow. Yeah, right. Pass the chocolate.<br />
<br />
I am also two days into a new project (I know, bad writer!), and utterly overwhelmed with the possibility of it. It's unlike anything I've ever done before, and it took stumbling across the above image for me to realise I want to map its journey from inception to completion. If it's ever truly complete, that is.<br />
<br />
See? Unless anything I've ever done before. It has no visible end.<br />
<br />
So, I'm marking the moment. I'm about to pop over to Twitter and post my first new project update. The hashtag #theregulars will feature in every update, and in time - at a significant milestone - I'll use it to track my progress, both in words written, and mood.<br />
<br />
I'm keeping myself accountable by writing in a day-to-a-page diary. I'm loving the practice of it so far, because one page isn't overwhelming on the days when I'm not sparking, and one page is teasing on the days when I am. I don't run over on to the next page, but wait, impatient for the next day. The diary is dragging me forward, and with me, undeniable progress.<br />
<br />
I've got to say, there's also something nostalgic and boundless about handwriting an excerpt. Away from the internet and the internal editor, connected with the friction on the page and the liquid sweep of the pen. I don't hand write enough. I'm typically too impatient for it because I'm such a fast typer, but this exercise is getting me back to that. It's slowing me down, which in this instance, is a good thing.<br />
<br />
Each day's writing does not have to be connected to the day before. It can be a new scene, a new excerpt. It can be set wherever and about whatever is resonating with me at the time. This reduces further pressure. It doesn't even have to be about The Regulars, even though that's what I'll be tracking.<br />
<br />
Being a typically chronological writer, I'm broadening my skillset and challenging myself to follow my inspiration, however disconnected it may be.<br />
<br />
In conclusion, for those of you who are interested in following a writer's process - through the mire of every emotion imaginable - I welcome you on board.<br />
<br />
If you don't have Twitter, I'll be regularly posting the #theregulars feed on my website, so you can follow it there.<br />
<br />
For those of you who followed my recent holiday posts, apologies, I'm home, and my nose is back to the grindstone. In good news, though, if you enjoyed all the mischief and madness of my trip, stay tuned. Many of my experiences will be making their way into books for you to enjoy in the not too distant future!<br />
<br />
Until next time.<br />
<br />
Elise<br />
<br />
<br />
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00089361440943581487noreply@blogger.com0Melbourne VIC, Australia-37.814107 144.96327999999994-38.6164245 143.67238649999993 -37.0117895 146.25417349999995tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1082351254571571890.post-84839869138139613942014-06-21T00:54:00.001+10:002014-06-21T01:11:18.646+10:00Donkeys, squids and lava stones<div class="MsoNormal">
Today is the last full day of my Greek Island Hopping tour;
after breakfast tomorrow, I’m done with all my tours and will be making my own
way for the next few months.<o:p></o:p></div>
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I’ve been to Greece before – it captured my imagination and
for seven years I wasn’t able to still the rattle in my heart – the piece of Greece
I’d brought home with me last time. So I returned to Athens – gave the city way
too much of my time – then escaped to the islands.<o:p></o:p></div>
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Mykonos was brilliant, and I loved it all over again. I got
lost in the back streets of town, watched a bride walk down the aisle to the
man of her dreams, and unwound. Being an early bird, I got one of the famous
beaches to myself one morning, which was a highlight. I also stimulated the
local economy with some enthusiastic shopping.<o:p></o:p></div>
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Paros, an island I knew nothing about prior to arriving,
surprised me with its creativity and intimacy. The jewellery makers on Paros
are so gifted, I defy anyone to leave the island without a new trinket. Paros
had the same narrow, white-walled cobblestone streets of Mykonos, and yet it
had a fraction of the tourists and an abundance of charm. I went to a fishing
village where squid were drying in the sun, trawlers were lurching against the sea
walls, and nets were unrolled on footpaths, and I loved it.<o:p></o:p></div>
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Highly recommended.<o:p></o:p></div>
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The third and final island on my hopping tour was Santorini.
<o:p></o:p></div>
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Oh, Santorini.<o:p></o:p></div>
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It’s as good as people say. It’s better than they describe.
It’s something else entirely. <o:p></o:p></div>
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White buildings cling to kilometres of cliffs. The roof of
one building is the floor of another. Streets of glamorous clothes, glittering jewellery
and all manner of souvenirs make for a dazzling walk about town. Thousands
gather for the sunset each night, as we did, and a short boat ride away, a
volcano waits.<o:p></o:p></div>
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This, we climbed. I dragged my bung foot up to the crater,
toes be damned, and later swam through thermal spring water to a mud bath. The
group isn’t entirely sure we weren’t duped, and that the mud had no beneficial
properties at all, but either way, excellent photos were born. <o:p></o:p>Following this, we conquered the cliffs on donkeys, and had
a brilliant night out in town.</div>
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<o:p></o:p></div>
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In all, the tour has been fantastic. Brilliant people,
awesome locations, and more rattles in my heart. </div>
<br />
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Now I’m bound for Athens, looking back on photos and making
big decisions about what comes next. </div>
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In the immediate future, London. </div>
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<br /></div>
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Beyond
that, stay tuned.</div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00089361440943581487noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1082351254571571890.post-62314107224378255302014-06-09T14:46:00.000+10:002014-06-09T14:46:31.216+10:00Small Town Storm, CLUE Award Winner!<span style="background-color: white; color: #141823; font-family: Helvetica, Arial, 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 19.31999969482422px;">I am beside myself excited to share that Small Town Storm came first in the Chanticleer Book Reviews & Media CLUE Awards for Thriller, Mystery, & Suspense Fiction! </span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: #141823; font-family: Helvetica, Arial, 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 19.31999969482422px;"><br /></span>
<span style="background-color: white; color: #141823; font-family: Helvetica, Arial, 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 19.31999969482422px;">It went through *seven* rounds of judging, isn't that extraordinary?</span><br />
<br style="background-color: white; color: #141823; font-family: Helvetica, Arial, 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 19.31999969482422px;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #141823; font-family: Helvetica, Arial, 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 19.31999969482422px;">I'm so, so thrilled and flattered. Thank you, Chanticleer, the contest coordinators, and the judges - you've put the hugest smile on my face.</span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: #141823; font-family: Helvetica, Arial, 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 19.31999969482422px;"><br /></span>
<span style="background-color: white; color: #141823; font-family: Helvetica, Arial, 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 19.31999969482422px;"><a href="http://chantireviews.com/2014/06/07/the-clue-awards-for-thriller-mystery-suspense-fiction-first-in-category-winners/" target="_blank">The CLUE Awards First in Category Winners</a></span><br />
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<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00089361440943581487noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1082351254571571890.post-11857123829827674812014-06-07T01:19:00.001+10:002014-10-17T12:32:04.076+11:00Broken bones, nights under the stars, and fear eyes<div class="MsoNormal">
I’ve spent the last week cruising the Mediterranean on a
gorgeous gulet boat with a group of people I will never forget. I had been
nervous for months about who I would be contained to a boat with, but I got to
travel with some truly brilliant people. One in particular became a fast
friend, and another really made the trip shine. <o:p></o:p></div>
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The days were as lazy as you might imagine – sun, swimming
and sleep, with the occasional shift in order. Me, I was the oddity cheerfully
writing on my laptop when others were dozing or reading. Apparently it takes
more than eight days for me to wilfully do little to nothing. Still bent on
‘how can I make the most of this time’, it seems.<o:p></o:p></div>
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That being said, I’ve got the skeleton of what I hope will
be a cracker of a book. Boat politics, drama, and of course, romance.</div>
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I went scuba diving. And sucked at it. Throw me into the sky
from 2,000 metres, sure, let’s do this – but put me in a suit that covers
everything but my face (then cover my face with something else), weigh me down
under water and insist I breath through a Darth Vader mouthpiece? Get stuffed.<o:p></o:p></div>
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I went through with it. All my photos have fear-eyes, but I
ticked the experience box. I insisted on two emergency surfaces and spent half
the dive too freaked to turn my head, but I eventually enjoyed myself. After my
instructor put a frikkin’ sea anemone on my hand – enjoyment was a <i>while</i> after
that.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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Those little buggers have squishy sucker feet, and it walked
on me. Having had one of its friends bury a 6cm long barb in my toe which I
couldn’t get out for three weeks, I was understandably uncomfortable with its
proximity.<o:p></o:p></div>
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I’ve seen a sunken city. Lycian tombs. An old castle. I’ve
snorkelled, leapt off the boat and accumulated more bruises than looks kosher. We’ve
had a party nearly every night, and I’m managing about four hours of sleep a
night. And on one of those nights, when I hadn’t even had a drink, I fell.</div>
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</div>
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Spectacularly. <o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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I broke three toes. My foot hit the side of
the boat so hard it shattered one of my toenails, and the bruise on my back
makes people lurch away from me, horrified. I ruptured some blood vessels. Ask me if you want photos - I don't want to force that picture on anyone. </div>
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<br /></div>
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Now, think of what you’ve read so far. The exploring. The parties.
The getting in and out of small boats to be shuttled to islands… add broken
toes, and a constant rolling, lurching boat.<o:p></o:p></div>
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The glorious, constant pain. But what can you do?<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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Apparently you can use a naked lady stirring stick as a
makeshift splint. No kidding. When I get back to port I’m going to get a raised
eyebrow from a doctor, I’m sure – ha!<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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My parents were sympathetic and alarmed when I told them,
but I have a tiny suspicion they weren’t too surprised. This kind of thing – a
ridiculous injury or incident – happens too often to shock anymore, I think. Before I left for my trip I had a fight with a table and ended up with bruised ribs. I'm that kind of girl. I'm pretty sure the captain was keen to get me off the boat - every time I walked past him he shot out a hand and said, 'Be careful!'. Haha. <o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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It has been wonderful relaxing (in my own way), meeting
amazing people, and getting a greater understanding of life on the ocean. The
crew live and breathe it, and that kind of connection with something – that
complex, deep magnetism – has resonated with me.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
It’s been an entirely different pace from any other trip
I’ve been on. And if I were to write a book about this last week that was more
fact than fiction, it would have all the romance of the great love stories, all
the upheavals of different personalities forced together, and a protagonist who
just couldn’t stop smiling.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
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On to Athens next for four days of leisure and history. Then
ten days in the Greek islands with sand, sun, and hopefully a legitimate
splint.</div>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00089361440943581487noreply@blogger.com048300 Fethiye, Turkey36.618561 29.11675100000002236.516647999999996 28.95538950000002 36.720474 29.278112500000024tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1082351254571571890.post-25553086378731283752014-05-29T23:52:00.000+10:002014-05-29T23:54:24.182+10:00Going postal and channelling Mary Poppins<div class="MsoNormal">
It’s 8:40am and thirty-one degrees; and because I’m wearing
my heaviest things to avoid excess luggage fees, I am sweltering. The domestic
departures building of Istanbul makes my muscles tense. There are constant
alarms that no one seems to be attending to, the signage is easy to
misunderstand, and there are people everywhere. <i>Polis</i> patrol the entrance with semi-automatics, the announcer’s
voice is so thickly accented that whenever she speaks, I concentrate so hard my
temple ticks. My second airport transfer confirms that my first driver was
hopelessly lost – an hour lost, in fact. I did wonder why it took so long to
get to the hotel! And yet I look around, and everything’s getting done. People
are getting where they need to go, I have the right ticket, and soon I will
have a gate number.<o:p></o:p></div>
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Maybe it’s just chaotic to my eyes.<o:p></o:p></div>
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My tour finished yesterday morning. A few of us met for a
final breakfast together, goodbyes were said, then I was a solo traveller
again.<o:p></o:p></div>
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I ran into a
friend and went on a boat trip along the Bosporus Strait, seeing Istanbul from
the water. I visited New Mosque, as beautiful as the Blue Mosque, but with five - yes, five - other people, not five thousand. I took on the Bazaar by myself and haggled like a pro (please note:
I am anything but a haggling expert… it’s a long story), and ended up with the
most beautiful, most breakable souvenir imaginable. It’s big, it’s cumbersome,
and now it’s mine.</div>
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<o:p></o:p></div>
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So I mailed it home. Which was an experience in itself.<o:p></o:p></div>
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This was my fourth attempt at a post office – the first to
third encountered such cultural barriers that I left without success. This time
I was ushered into a room that I swear I shouldn’t have been in. There were
parcels stacked half-way to the ceiling. On trolleys, on the floor. On
counter-tops and under arms. They only accepted cash payments.<o:p></o:p></div>
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I was starting to think I’d never see my stuff again.<o:p></o:p></div>
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Either way, it was taped up to within an inch of its life,
stamped and stacked.<o:p></o:p></div>
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This all happened yesterday, and I am still thanking the
inventor of bubble wrap. <o:p></o:p></div>
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I packed so much into yesterday, and was in the sun for so
long, that I collapsed into bed at 5:00pm. Like an absolute rock star, am I
right?<o:p></o:p></div>
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It turns out domestic flights within Turkey have a 15kg
checked baggage allowance. This was alarming news, as I had 20kg when I left
Australia. I have since bought things. But during a lunch break at a shopping
complex the other day, I bought a Mary Poppins bag. It just keeps swallowing
stuff, whilst looking near-empty. The thing’s magic, I tell you, and it opens
flat!<o:p></o:p></div>
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So here I am, waiting at the airport for the next leg of my
fabulous journey. Turkey’s not behind me yet – I’m off to Dalaman, then
Fethiye, where I board a wooden gullet boat to cruise the Mediterranean bays and harbours. <o:p></o:p></div>
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I can’t seem to get enough sleep. All this sun’s wiping me
out and adrenaline’s only getting me so far, so I can hardly wait for my next
tour – a little over a week of relaxing, something I’ve only recently
reacquainted myself with.<o:p></o:p></div>
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Bring it on, I say. I’m ready for my biggest worries to be
charging my camera and reapplying my sunscreen.<o:p></o:p></div>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00089361440943581487noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1082351254571571890.post-56876945358236518652014-05-28T06:11:00.000+10:002014-05-28T06:24:40.733+10:00Free-falling, Trojans, and ANZAC poppies<div class="MsoNormal">
Today I visited Gallipoli. As an Australian, as a student of
history, and as a human being – the place moved me. I left there feeling many
things, but mostly gratitude. Gratitude that I could be in this country and be
welcomed warmly, gratitude that men and women laid down their lives so that we
might live as we choose.<o:p></o:p></div>
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I am honoured to have been to such a place, even though the
earth was once damp with blood and the air thick with screams and gunfire. Because
it wasn’t all bad. I learned of kindness which occurred during the ceasefires,
of mateship and courage. I heard the story of the Australian soldier who took a
piece from the lone pine home and grew it, who then returned with a piece when
the original tree died. It’s kind of like its grandson stands there now.<o:p></o:p></div>
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I saw the Turkish memorials, and the New Zealand ones. I
paid my respects, I re-read Ataturk’s wonderful words to the mothers of our
diggers, and I listened. It’s so peaceful there. The waves were soft, the
poppies were brilliant red in the sunshine. Those who never left can be at
peace there.<o:p></o:p></div>
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In other news, I’ve ticked a few other things off the bucket
list.<o:p></o:p></div>
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Namely the library at Ephesus, the ruins of Troy, the cotton
castles of Pammukale, and the Altar of Zeus. Oh, and I leapt off a 2,000 metre
high mountain – how could I have forgotten that?<o:p></o:p></div>
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The cotton castles were interesting natural formations
caused by calcium rich water. It was a hot day when we visited, made hotter by
the thirty-odd degree spring waters. I traipsed up and down the spectacular
amphitheatre, shuffled through the pools and took an unexpected ride out to
ancient coffins and tombs. I don’t know how I did it all without passing out,
but it was excellent.<o:p></o:p></div>
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Ephesus was excellent. Just… excellent. I’ve wanted to see
the library at Ephesus for as long as I can remember, and when it happened –
when I was standing there – I couldn’t quite come to terms with it. So I sat
and soaked it all in. Spent very little time with the group, as I lingered in a
lot of places and charged ahead to others. Another scorching day, and walking
on marble made things twice as toasty. I was also hot under the collar after
hearing that Antony gave all the books and scrolls from Ephesus to Cleopatra as
a wedding gift. These were later lost – burned, pillaged. In short, he gave
away his people’s knowledge for love. There’s romance, and then there’s that.<o:p></o:p></div>
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I visited a night bazaar, which was brilliant fun. My jewellery
collection grows. I can justify it by saying such items take up little space
and add little weight, yet if I were to display all my jewellery, I could rival
one of those shops. That’s all I’m saying on that.<o:p></o:p></div>
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Troy was everything I hoped it would be. More, even. My tour
manager warned me that I might be disappointed, but I wasn’t expecting the
likes of Pergamon or Ephesus – I knew there was little left. And yet there was
so much. And a turtle. Of all things to be following me around Turkey, I keep
seeing turtles. I loved the ruins, and had a ball with the Trojan Horse.
Everyone was sticking their heads out of the windows and smiling, but not me –
I race up there, throw my upper body out the window, thrust my finger forward
and yell ‘Charge!’<o:p></o:p></div>
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It may just be my favourite photo ever.<o:p></o:p></div>
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I parasailed, too. Leapt right off the top of a 2,000 metre
high mountain and sailed around for forty minutes. Fethiye is gorgeous from the
air. Proper photos to come. All I have at the moment is a selfie of me in a big
helmet. Possibly the only thing containing my enormous smile, I think.<o:p></o:p></div>
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I’ve been sick for a few days, so there was a time I was
struggling to speak in complete sentences, but I’ve bounced back and I’m ready
for the rest. Today’s our last day of the Turkey Explored trip. Tonight we hit
Istanbul’s Grand Bazaar, then we have our last group dinner and part ways in
the morning. I have a little bit of downtime, then I’m flying back to Fethiye –
the British resort town where my gullet cruise departs.</div>
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A whole week sailing the gorgeous Mediterranean coastline,
swimming over ruins, diving into history, and contemplating the stars.</div>
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Above: my bird's eye view of Fethiye.</div>
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Above: I was <i>this</i> happy to see the library at Ephesus.</div>
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Above: the wonderful ancient city of Pergammon.</div>
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Above: my emphatic public address at Troy. Crowd to be confirmed.</div>
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Above: leading the charge at Troy.</div>
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Above: ANZAC Cove, Gallipoli</div>
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Above: Ataturk's wonderful words to our diggers and their mothers.</div>
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Above: rooftop Istanbul.</div>
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<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
Above: sunset Istanbul.</div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00089361440943581487noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1082351254571571890.post-7295689399655102052014-05-22T05:17:00.001+10:002014-05-22T05:22:03.348+10:00Turkey Time<span style="background-color: white;">Fifteen more people have seen me naked.</span><br />
<span style="background-color: white;"><br /></span>
<span style="background-color: white;">How's that for an opener?</span><br />
<span style="background-color: white;"><br /></span>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="background-color: white;">But I get ahead of myself.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="background-color: white;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="background-color: white;">Everything changes so much within a few days. When I arrived
in Turkey it reminded me of a rabbit warren. Chaotic. Impossible to understand.
The passport line at immigration took near on an hour to get through and the
traffic makes me flinch (what safe breaking distance?). But the country is
infinitely less frightening now. It’s… stirring. Confronting. Beautiful and
peaceful.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="background-color: white;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="background-color: white;">Don’t get me wrong, I’ve still had my share of noise. I’ve
lost count of the amount of Turks who’ve shouted at me (their standard volume,
I think) and the car horns are endless – but there’s also something reverent
about this place.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="background-color: white;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="background-color: white;">I met my tour group at my opulently decorated Sirkeci hotel,
and everyone fell into fast friendships. There’s twenty-four of us – which has turned out to be a really great size – and our Turk guide is fantastic. We saw
the incredible Blue Mosque and the staggering Hagia Sophia Basilica. I tried and
failed to come up with the right words to describe each. I’ve stalked Turkey
through various Instagram accounts for near on a year and it was surreal to
find myself standing beneath their gorgeous domed ceilings.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="background-color: white;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="background-color: white;">The Basilica Cistern really captured me. It was an
unexpected surprise and somewhere I could have lingered for hours. I’ll go
there again when I return to Istanbul. I need another hit. An underground water
collection structure; the cistern I saw had domed ceilings, hundreds of columns
– their feet lit with gold lights, and knee-deep water rich with wished-upon
coins and fat fish. Early recycling at its best, two statues of Medusa had been
reused to prop columns – they were extraordinary. The whole thing had a
strange, alluring energy.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="background-color: white;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="background-color: white;">We drove to Ankara next, the capital of Turkey (the
equivalent of Australia’s Canberra - the political centre rather than the tourist centre).
The Turkish countryside is ever-changing and the vistas are extraordinary. We
attended the <span style="background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial;"><em><span style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; font-style: normal; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-weight: bold; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">Youth</span></em><span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>and Sports Day ceremony at Ataturk’s
Mausoleum, and were treated to a spectacular display of national pride, then
got our feet into the second biggest salt lake in the world.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="background-color: white; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="background-color: white; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial;">After
that, we indulged. Or should I say, we were bullied into letting our troubles
float away.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="background-color: white; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="background-color: white; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial;">A
Turkish Bath is an experience you will never forget, and therefore highly
recommended. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="background-color: white; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="background-color: white; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial;">Yes,
you’ve reached the naked part of my story.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="background-color: white; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="background-color: white; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial;">The
guys and girls were sent their separate ways. The girls were given small towels
to cover ourselves. A clay mask locked our expressions in place and a sauna roasted
us. All of us were wearing bathers – something which proved a waste of time as
the Turkish women in the massage room either pulled them off or pulled them up.
Like… up. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="background-color: white; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="background-color: white; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial;"><i>You</i> try relax after a violent wedgie.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="background-color: white; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="background-color: white; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial;">They
filled these pillow-like things with foam and covered us in the stuff. We lay
on heated marble – which was frikkin’ awesome – and were massaged and
entertained with song, music, and brusque foreign chatter. Me? I must’ve done
something really wrong. Karma-come-collect wrong. My masseuse tried to drag my
skin from my body with metal-like fingers. Because she was trying to break my
muscles – and perhaps my spine – I’m forced to conclude I hurt her children
somehow. I ended up begging her to be gentle. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="background-color: white; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="background-color: white; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial;">Despite some confronting
elements, it was a great experience.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="background-color: white; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="background-color: white; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial;">Cappadocia
next. An alien landscape of volcanic formations made millions of years ago,
fairy chimneys, and magic sunsets. We went to dinner at a local’s house – the
police chief and his wife cooked for us. Early the next morning I had a dream
come true: sun rise hot air ballooning over one of the most striking landscapes
in the world.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="background-color: white; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="background-color: white; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial;">It
was… flawless.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="background-color: white; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="background-color: white; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial;">Hundreds
of other balloons joined us in the air. Points of bright colour in a pale sky.
I’ve never seen anything like it, and maybe never will again. It’s a bucket
list kind of thing, and I’m so grateful I had the opportunity. We flew for
about an hour. One of the guys proposed to his girlfriend, it was so sweet. We
each took over a hundred photos, I guess, but after a while I just put
everything away and stared around me.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="background-color: white; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="background-color: white; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial;">Sightseeing
through Cappadocia involved an open air museum with ancient Catholic frescos,
cave churches, and ancient homes. Brilliant vantage points for photos. We drove
around the area for a few hours, seeing Pigeon Valley and the like, then when
some of the group went to a Turkish dinner and dancing evening, me and a few
others caught a ride to Sunset Point and watched the end of a beautiful day. It
was a popular place. We lounged on cushions and listened to local boys singing
softly beside us. Bliss. I’ve been a lot of places, but that sunset makes the
top five of my life.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="background-color: white; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="background-color: white; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial;">I keep thinking, I saw the sun rise and set on one of the loveliest days of my life.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="background-color: white; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="background-color: white; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial;">Today
we drive to Konya, then a long driving day tomorrow to the coast-side village
of Fethiye. You’d recognise one of its elements – Butterfly Valley is one of the most
photographed valleys in the world, I think. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="background-color: white; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="background-color: white; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial;">Until
last night, I’d been operating (poorly, I think), on seven hours of sleep
accrued over three nights. It didn’t matter how exhausted I was at the end of
each night, I got into bed and stared at the ceiling. My zombie tendencies
would have amused people if they hadn’t been so near to collapse themselves,
but we had a ten-thirty departure this morning, so everyone’s bounced back.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="background-color: white;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="background-color: white; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial;">The
pace of organised tours is like nothing else.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="background-color: white; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="background-color: white; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial;">So for now, I'll finish by saying I'm travelling with wonderful people, seeing wonderful things, and smiling all the time. Life's sweet.</span></div>
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<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00089361440943581487noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1082351254571571890.post-24785000033906623012014-05-17T12:56:00.000+10:002014-05-17T12:57:25.227+10:00Dizzy Dubai<div class="MsoNormal">
I’ll begin this blog with a fun fact: in the last forty-eight
hours I have drank more water than I would in a typical week. The United Arab
Emirates is hot and dry, and sightseeing is thirsty work. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Backtracking slightly, the flight was fine. I had the good fortune
of a window seat with an empty seat beside me and I slept a fair bit. I watched
Bedknobs and Broomsticks until the acid-trip special effects did my head in,
then fell in all of Sleeping Beauty’s plot holes before I found my way to The
Avengers. The descent was interesting; the vast expanse of scrub-dotted sands,
fences and roads like pencil lines on a page. Then came the estates. Tended
squares of green; wide, flat roofs. Pillared mansions, arched exteriors and
palm flanked drives. Finally, skyscrapers were glimpsed through a sandstorm
haze.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I was put in a ladies’ taxi upon leaving the airport. A
woman no bigger than Prue Everdeen wrestled my suitcase from me and loaded it
into her pink-topped van, and even though she took me to the wrong hotel
(Winchester vs Winchester Grand… I can see where things went wrong), it was a
pleasant, incense-rich ride.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Later, I made Chandler Bing look smooth in the practice of
clumsy tipping. I suck at tipping. I suck at the whole set-up. Just give me my
bag, I’ve got it this far. And I reckon I can find the fridge on my own, thanks.
So, so awkwardly done. I haven’t been able to look the guy in the eye since,
although I swear he keeps grinning at me.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Speaking of: the local men stare. Unabashedly. They don’t smile,
either. It’s disconcerting.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
My first tourist excursion was an abysmal failure. Armed
with a map and a questionable sense of confidence, I struck out for the nearest
Big Bus stop, but I never found it. There were freeways. Back streets. Kilometres
of shade-free footpaths. I saw a side of Bur Dubai that most tourists wouldn’t,
and I have a sunburned face and cracked lips to show for it. When I finally
found my way to a road that had cabs (by cutting through the lobby of a
glamourous hotel), I realised I’d spent three hours glitz parallel. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Good to know my shocking sense of direction hasn’t changed.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I got a good look at the Sheikh Zayed Road on the way back,
then collapsed into bed at 5:00pm. I may have had sunstroke. There were
symptoms.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
For those who say travel is like riding a bike, I say
different. It’s like falling into a pair of rollerskates. My first day was a
clumsy mess. <o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
But I really hit my stride on the second day. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The Big Bus tour has been a brilliant way to see the United
Arab Emirates. It has an audio commentary, a city route, and a beach route. A
river tour was included, and I got to jump off whenever something interested
me, knowing that another bus would be along every half hour. I saw the
spectacular Palm Jumeirah and Atlantis the Palm. Ski Dubai. The Burj Al Arab.
The Burj Khalifa – the tallest man-made structure on earth. Some of the thirty
major shopping complexes, and dozens of mosques. Easy to do when there’s one
every five hundred metres! Souks. The bustling ‘creek’. It was a brilliant,
full-on day.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I did the night tour after a few short hours reprieve, and
the night just improves this place. It was the best experience so far. The Arab
Emirates… glitters. It’s a very green, very advanced place teeming with
innovative design, world replicas, effective transport systems, and obvious
wealth. There’s construction everywhere, and big plans to further impress. My
tour guide told me about up and coming projects, including a district of
life-sized replicas of the wonders of the world. Extending the creek towards
Jumeriah Beach – effectively making part of the Emirates an island. More
shopping centres – because there clearly aren’t enough! The leaders of this
country have incredible foresight; they’ve invested heavily in infrastructure
and public amenities, high-class destinations and tourism. When the oil runs
out, Dubai will continue to flourish. And with millions of visitors expected
during its 2020 World Fair extravaganza, it will be on the tip of tongues for a
long time.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
If you haven’t been here and you get the opportunity – give yourself
a few days at least. Get a 48hr hop-on hop-off bus ticket. Sit on the top level
on the back seat at the right – it’s the best vantage point by far (if you don’t
mind your gums flapping in the wind).<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Dubai has awed me. I feel like I could spend weeks here
exploring each point of interest, but I’m out of time. Today I fly to Istanbul,
and tonight I begin my Turkish adventure.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
In the meantime, I've been writing heaps!</div>
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<br /></div>
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It’s been an excellent, albeit clumsy start, and somehow I’ve
already been away from home nearly a week.<o:p></o:p></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
Will update this blog when time and WIFI permits. Would love
your comments – have you been to Dubai? Were you similarly blown away? What did
you buy? Where you also alarmed by the hamburger, pizza slice, chicken
drumstick, fries and a coke value meals? <o:p></o:p></div>
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Above: The Burj Al Arab. Design reminiscent of an open sail, and symbolic of the city moving forward.</div>
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Above: Atlantis The Palm, a reconstruction of Atlantis Paradise Island in the Bahamas, and very impressive.</div>
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Above: Ski Dubai. The first indoor ski resort in the Middle East.</div>
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Above: Hundreds gathered for prayer on the top level of a shopping centre.</div>
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Above: Be prepared to come back, especially on a Friday, which is roughly the equivalent of Aussie Sunday.</div>
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Above: Just one of the footwear wonders.</div>
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Above: Love a good pun!</div>
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Above: One of the world's largest shopping malls, The Dubai Mall.</div>
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Above: The tallest man-made structure in the world, the Burj Khalifa</div>
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Above: One of the night tour highlights.</div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00089361440943581487noreply@blogger.com0Bur Dubai - Dubai - United Arab Emirates25.2145565 55.30329059999996825.09965 55.14192909999997 25.329463 55.464652099999967tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1082351254571571890.post-37726201817954754292014-04-18T17:49:00.000+10:002014-04-18T17:51:11.674+10:00FarsicknessI learnt a new word this evening, and these seven seemingly innocuous letters have moved mountains within me.<br />
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Fernweh is the German equivalent for wanderlust, and it translates to farsickness; an ache for distant places.<br />
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To me, this definition is perfect. As the months have slipped by and the countdown has diminished to mere weeks until I brandish my passport again, I've struggled to adequately capture how I'm feeling.<br />
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Excited, of course. Overwhelmed, a little scared. Exhilarated. I'm proud of myself for venturing out into the world again, for daring to subscribe to a new way of life, for committing to the road less travelled, and embracing adventure in whatever form. This is something I've longed for for a year now. The original concept is all but a memory - my itinerary and goals have changed so much. But the purpose is the same.<br />
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The world calls to me. A siren song that robs my feet of balance and turns my head from other plans - other futures.<br />
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My heart is restless, and only new roads, new faces and broken boundaries will satiate it.<br />
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I begin to tell people I've done this before, then stop myself. I have travelled alone, I have been overseas. I have walked upon ancient cobblestones, and gazed upon vistas so stunning that I will never remember them with the clarity they deserve. But I have <i>not</i> done this before.<br />
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What I am doing is new. It will be unlike anything I've done in the past, and unlike anything I will do to come. It can't be, because I am never the same.<br />
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I am a different person from the girl fresh out of high school who shouldered her backpack and swallowed her fear. She went to Europe. She starved. She was soaked through for three whole days. She para-sailed over the Austrian Alps. She missed home so badly that I still carry the scar tissue on my heart.<br />
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I'm different again from the woman who went to South East Asia. She was stronger than the Europe girl. She had a gun pointed at her face and survived a civil uprising with her sense of humour intact. She walked through temples worn down by acid rain, and floated down the Mekong River above waiting creatures and alongside fishing monks. She knew she could do it because she'd "done it" before.<br />
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And so, whilst I'm different - older, wiser, infinitely better at self depricating humour - those parts of me tell me I can do this.<br />
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So come at me, world, I'm ready for you. In fact, I ache for you. I've been farsick for too long, and you're just the cure I'm looking for.<br />
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First stop the United Arab Emirates. Turkey next, then Greece. When I return to England after all that, it's with one month of complete freedom. So... Ireland. Perhaps Scandinavia. Maybe France again, because Paris is always a good idea.<br />
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I'll be carrying my laptop and notebook and writing about it all. And in the back of my mind always, will be this wonderful, perfect new word.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00089361440943581487noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1082351254571571890.post-66765089494235732552014-03-06T09:19:00.000+11:002014-03-06T09:22:43.572+11:00Camp NaNoWriMo - it ain't no holidayI'm prepping my gear, setting my sights on the distance peak, and arming myself with a dozen more camp-related puns in readiness for Camp NaNoWriMo in April.<br />
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I'm a big fan of this program. The 50K, 47,455K or 13,567K that I churn out in thirty days isn't always top-quality stuff, but they're words. Words I can fix. A blank page is much harder to edit (note: I've also packed a back-breaking amount of understatements and sarcasm - you know, the basic necessities).<br />
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Having won for the first time in three years last November (aka reached 50,000), I'm keen to join my fellow writers again, but this time I'm setting my sights a little lower. Kosciusko, rather than Everest.<br />
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30,000 words in 30 days. 1,000 words a day.<br />
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A necessary adjustment owing to the many distracting things going on in my life right now. In May I fly overseas for an extended working holiday, and planning is still underway. I'll be working, moving house, seeing people before I go, reading friends' new releases... and amongst it all I'll be writing Today Was a Fairytale.<br />
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I know you're channeling Taylor Swift right now, but without giving away all of the story's plot points, it's hard to explain how perfect that title is for Ellen and Oliver.<br />
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If you'll be NaNo-ing in April, lets talk cabins. I'm a heavy sleeper - tap away on your keyboard until all hours, I won't complain. I can be relied upon for pep talks and obscure references of encouragement, and I love to bake. The latter will become more important as the month wears on.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEguqGQl3t7mxDsaHMwglWcr-S2gZvX75w3BuNu9-hfal1ilR8-7agzmXW4k6Cj4z3rSYTRxjpDZq2LlmbjDulUJhRLNZFl6ZmbaEro5XXIWL7CkFOw6fwrnSEGzB5oqMEsSpsLQV5DKLrUv/s1600/2014-Participant-Facebook-Cover.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEguqGQl3t7mxDsaHMwglWcr-S2gZvX75w3BuNu9-hfal1ilR8-7agzmXW4k6Cj4z3rSYTRxjpDZq2LlmbjDulUJhRLNZFl6ZmbaEro5XXIWL7CkFOw6fwrnSEGzB5oqMEsSpsLQV5DKLrUv/s1600/2014-Participant-Facebook-Cover.jpg" height="146" width="400" /></a></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00089361440943581487noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1082351254571571890.post-4735761676311637532014-03-01T08:00:00.000+11:002014-03-01T08:00:03.163+11:00Some titles sell themselves<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJhq_eskF4KrRpjz-QlT3mg7Hmt54B33AHm_UZHyCcqJghyphenhyphenX59GLlWhhfXfmSl3g3UwuGUgpTif3gALzpjbc6PlEnjB9nRUheQLGNUnkf917CSXA3TAJiOYeIsiMXsDeGSVplqx9Jkqj-a/s1600/cover+(1).jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJhq_eskF4KrRpjz-QlT3mg7Hmt54B33AHm_UZHyCcqJghyphenhyphenX59GLlWhhfXfmSl3g3UwuGUgpTif3gALzpjbc6PlEnjB9nRUheQLGNUnkf917CSXA3TAJiOYeIsiMXsDeGSVplqx9Jkqj-a/s1600/cover+(1).jpg" height="320" width="208" /></a>How, with a title like <i>Lingerie for Felons</i>, can a reader resist this book?<br />
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I'm delighted to be hosting a release day blog post for a fellow Escape artist, the lovely Ros Baxter. Love the title, love the cover - it's gone straight to my TBR pile. Congratulations on the release, Ros.<br />
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<span style="color: #1f497d; font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt;">Today is release day for Lingerie for Felons, the new romantic comedy from Ros Baxter.<u></u><u></u></span></div>
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<i><span style="color: #1f497d; font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt;">‘If there’s one universal truth, it’s this: You’re always wearing your worst underwear when you land in trouble.’</span></i><span style="color: #1f497d; font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt;"> <u></u><u></u></span></div>
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<span style="color: #1f497d; font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt;">Lingerie for Felons: Laugh. Cry. Look at the world a little differently.<u></u><u></u></span></div>
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<span style="color: #1f497d; font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt;">All with one click <a href="http://www.amazon.com/Lingerie-For-Felons-Ros-Baxter-ebook/dp/B00IAFNJVY/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1392287125&sr=8-1&keywords=lingerie+for+felons" target="_blank">here</a>.<u></u></span></div>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00089361440943581487noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1082351254571571890.post-73895936066426257622014-02-14T06:00:00.000+11:002014-02-18T10:35:46.350+11:00Dear Stranger, if you've found me, I'm yours...<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"If you've found me, I'm yours."</td></tr>
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Happy Valentine's Day. I hope that today, whether you celebrate it or not , affords you a measure of kindness.<br />
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In the last week I have learned two things. One, that the skin between my knuckle and fingertip - once calloused by its long friendship with the humble pen - has become the equivalent of a sensitive sook. And two, that people are willing to spread a little love if only given the opportunity.</div>
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I recently released a short story with Escape Publishing called <a href="http://www.elisekackers.net/#!dear-stranger/c7h4" target="_blank">Dear Stranger</a>, a sweet, contemporary read about a woman who writes and leaves love letters around her city for strangers to find. It's a case of art imitating life, because I did this on Valentine's Day last year. There was no guarantee that the small messages of hope would reach the people who most needed them, but there was the chance, and for me that was enough.</div>
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A week ago I decided to do it again, this time using Reese's letter in Dear Stranger. It's uplifting, it's kind and it's hopeful - and it seems that as soon as I had the idea, people volunteered their help.</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9eYWnSc6wjjWUt-WAZ___U0pYGkNPkpPvj8j1tbKFwKkel8bJEJwARPieU_zR-p8dz1LmaBG7L2jB-OXjuF9JuWkny4n7zjoFZEWUMC45QOzimZ7zctOgAwiHHPrAZcT81mUmtWzf-kYT/s1600/20140211_124054.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9eYWnSc6wjjWUt-WAZ___U0pYGkNPkpPvj8j1tbKFwKkel8bJEJwARPieU_zR-p8dz1LmaBG7L2jB-OXjuF9JuWkny4n7zjoFZEWUMC45QOzimZ7zctOgAwiHHPrAZcT81mUmtWzf-kYT/s1600/20140211_124054.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Ready for my 'street team'.</td></tr>
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This year, instead of pounding the pavements alone, I have a 'street team'. Almost a dozen generous souls from all over Australia, each armed with a handful of love letters for strangers. These letters turned up on South Australian counters, on ATMs in the Blue Mountains, and trains and cafe tables in Melbourne. They turned up wherever my friends were inspired to leave them, and it is my hope that the people who found them were somehow stirred, or kind enough to leave them to be found again.<br />
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I was thrilled to be contacted by two people who did find a letter, and the messages were enormously positive. The wonderful people who delivered these letters were enthusiastic, and there were many talks of 'next time'.</div>
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Maybe you're reading this blog because you found a letter. Maybe you're reading this and finding yourself inspired to pen a letter of your own. Either way, I just wanted to mark this moment, to wish everyone a happy Valentine's Day, and thank the wonderful people who put their hand up to spread a little love in a world. I also want to take the opportunity to mention <a href="http://www.moreloveletters.com/" target="_blank">More Love Letters</a>, a global organisation which uses social media to write and distribute heartfelt gestures of love and compassion to those in need, and the original inspiration for my letters a year ago.</div>
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It is my hope for you, reader, that something about today brought a smile to your face, be it anything from a delivery of roses to a small act of kindness. Because commercial considerations aside, Valentine's Day is - at its core - a chance to celebrate each other.<br />
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So, dear stranger, I celebrated you.<br />
<br />
#DearStranger<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgC62JGt4IKQbbLvetBs4NGc7uQClftxaRovwhWbMapZT3rQFU8v16kTGzHXlkw49fQdDhhK8OkkTjog7uXaH128cIfjIsNMeEGt9urDmPA0JhanPuufShebcRvzE5dpLFnRul_2EgdZLGZ/s1600/australiadaybloghop2014.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgC62JGt4IKQbbLvetBs4NGc7uQClftxaRovwhWbMapZT3rQFU8v16kTGzHXlkw49fQdDhhK8OkkTjog7uXaH128cIfjIsNMeEGt9urDmPA0JhanPuufShebcRvzE5dpLFnRul_2EgdZLGZ/s1600/australiadaybloghop2014.jpg" height="300" width="400" /></a></div>
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Happy Australia Day long weekend to those who share this lucky country with me! I'm participating in the Book'd Out Blog Hop, and giving away one print copy of my latest release, <i><a href="http://www.elisekackers.net/#!the-homeland-series/c3wo" target="_blank">Ask Me To Stay</a></i>. Entrants must be an Australian resident, or be able to provide an Australian postal address. Make sure you visit the <a href="http://bookdout.wordpress.com/" target="_blank">Book'd Out blog</a> to see who else is on the blog hop, and I hope you're enjoying yourself - however you're celebrating!</div>
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<span style="color: #0c343d;">A delightful collection from Elise K. Ackers, author of <a href="http://www.elisekackers.net/#!romanticsuspense/c1ka7" target="_blank"><i>Small Town Storm</i> </a>and <a href="http://www.elisekackers.net/#!the-man-plan/c21ro" target="_blank"><i>The Man Plan</i></a>, available for the first time in print<i>.</i></span><br />
<span style="color: #0c343d;"><i><br />
</i>In Australian country towns, everyone knows everybody else's business. Nothing is private, and escaping the past is difficult if not impossible. But how much of the truth does anyone ever really know, even about those closest to them?<br />
When family tragedy brings Ethan Foster home, he doesn't expect a warm welcome. In the small town of Hinterdown reputation is everything – and Ethan's was ruined long ago. His family and friends don't want him around, and nor does Sam O'Hara, the girl he left behind.</span><br />
<span style="color: #0c343d;"><br />
In this tender and heartwarming romantic trilogy, a funeral, a wedding, and a homecoming spark a series of events that prove that love can find a way, if only given a chance. </span><br />
<span style="color: #0c343d;"><br />
Includes the stories <i>Ask Me to Stay, Ask Me for More </i>and<i> Ask Me for Tomorrow.</i></span><br />
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<script src="//d12vno17mo87cx.cloudfront.net/embed/rafl/cptr.js"></script><br />
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<a class="rafl" href="http://www.rafflecopter.com/rafl/display/4a0e7d1/" id="rc-4a0e7d1" rel="nofollow">a Rafflecopter giveaway</a><br />
<script src="//d12vno17mo87cx.cloudfront.net/embed/rafl/cptr.js"></script>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00089361440943581487noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1082351254571571890.post-23460948061139632922014-01-24T08:37:00.000+11:002014-01-24T08:44:07.385+11:00Tackling the TBR pile<br />
I've confessed this to a few writers and a few have agreed with me, so it turns out I'm not alone in struggling to read and write at the same time. By that, I mean that it's difficult for me to be reading a great book whilst I'm drafting a story of my own - the author's voice attempts to page hop, details blur, and my self-confidence takes an absolute bashing.<br />
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I tried not reading contemporary when I was writing it, not reading YA when I was writing it, etc, but it didn't much help. This put me between the proverbial rock and hard place, because I was being forced to choose between two passions.<br />
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One of my new year resolutions was to read minimum of a book a month, which to bibliophiles would be a laughably low goal. But I write every day. I write when I should be doing something else. I write, because I can't stop myself. So you see my predicament: how to read a book a month when I'm always writing?<br />
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The short answer: I've started tricking myself.<br />
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I listen to audio books. I drive enough that I get through a book every fortnight or so. I have a book on my bedside table (although this is my least effective trick, as my laptop's beside it). I take my e-reader everywhere, and read paragraphs whenever there isn't enough time to write. This adds up over time. I'm lucky that interruptions don't phase me - I can write and read with them, pause my brain and resume it fairly easily. And so I think I'll reach these monthly goals.<br />
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I've surpassed my minimum this month, but as I'm retreating to the editing cave this long weekend, I don't see the harm in declaring January over in this post. I won't be reading anything again for a week at least, unfortunately.</div>
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What are you reading, and do you trick yourself into creating time for good books?<br />
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Here are the fabulous titles I've read this month:<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvIOzyTjDQwIFlE7FKYNxtqJPPCTLAP-wdfXJAs1RvmKHVOv2z7lO9dz77bBKDEdSYwPQ8raXFvT4aLTEgT868SavfA1Wqb-5AULx_S7GU4iMLcySLRyPzJChbIDFXH9Cc9sAg6OIRHd0m/s1600/13423346.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjee3pSpB0Zw8Mb_tJv7TZPNERlr4EQU7G5Kl1m3XvMjiLAoeA9y536YxdMtX1LscNUjY4cy8hITD9aReBlYGPZLVb411rfRByh5GXMoiGKxUk-0OlGaWuG8BqXH4VsyC5Ti-iQrQdRVR20/s1600/6752378.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjee3pSpB0Zw8Mb_tJv7TZPNERlr4EQU7G5Kl1m3XvMjiLAoeA9y536YxdMtX1LscNUjY4cy8hITD9aReBlYGPZLVb411rfRByh5GXMoiGKxUk-0OlGaWuG8BqXH4VsyC5Ti-iQrQdRVR20/s1600/6752378.jpg" height="320" width="211" /></a><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvIOzyTjDQwIFlE7FKYNxtqJPPCTLAP-wdfXJAs1RvmKHVOv2z7lO9dz77bBKDEdSYwPQ8raXFvT4aLTEgT868SavfA1Wqb-5AULx_S7GU4iMLcySLRyPzJChbIDFXH9Cc9sAg6OIRHd0m/s1600/13423346.jpg" height="320" width="208" /><br />
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So much has changed. Relationships have strengthened and dissolved, my family has gone through some tough knocks and my work life has evolved so much that I'm struggling to capture it all in my annual review. But what I want to explore in this blog is how far I've come as a writer.<br />
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This time last year, I was hugging my first contract to my chest. Destiny Romance had yet to announce itself and I was practicing an excerpt from <i>Small Town Storm</i>, my first book and Destiny's debut romantic suspense title, because I was lucky enough to be doing a reading at the launch. I attended the conference with a blue first sale ribbon stuck to my name tag, and marvelled at how different it felt to be one of them. The authors.<br />
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Little did I know that I would return the following year with five published titles and a RUBY nomination for the very book I'd launched - my first baby, <i>Small Town Storm</i>. And instead of visiting the ARRA author signing event, I'll be signing at it. If you'd told me all of this last year, I wouldn't have believed you.<br />
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This last year has been a whirlwind. After <i>Small Town Storm</i>'s release in August last year, I released <i>The Man Plan</i> in December, again with Destiny Romance. In January this year I released <i>Unforgettable</i> with Escape Publishing, then in April and July Destiny Romance and I released the first two novellas in the Homeland series, <i>Ask Me To Stay</i> and <i>Ask Me For More</i>. The third novella, Ask Me For Tomorrow, will be released in October and something very special is coming in December.<br />
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It's little wonder I'm exhausted, but adrenaline and I have become really good mates. We go way back and it's a relationship I see myself embracing for the rest of my life. Amongst the countless things I've learned, I've also had to teach myself how to embrace down-time. I'm a planner. If you leave me to my thoughts for too long, I'll not only plot out the next few weeks of my life, but a book or two.<br />
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Yet for all my foresight and planning, I could never have guessed I'd be where I am now.<br />
<br />
And standing here. looking around, looking back and looking forward - dreaming of what's to come - I can honestly say, I'm so, so happy.<br />
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For all of you presently standing in the shadows, I hope that you, too can look back in time and marvel. For those who dream of being published - it's never been a better time to crack into the industry - the opportunities are everywhere in both digital and print. And for those of you who have been on this journey with me this last year, thank you. From every inch of my swollen heart, thank you.<br />
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Here's to another year together.<br />
<br />
Imagine where we'll be then!Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00089361440943581487noreply@blogger.com0Melbourne VIC, Australia-37.814107 144.96327999999994-38.6164245 143.67238649999993 -37.0117895 146.25417349999995tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1082351254571571890.post-45816259224839126722013-04-15T21:07:00.000+10:002013-04-15T21:19:14.364+10:00An 'element' of reader beware...Today is the official publication date of the first book in the Homeland series, <em>Ask Me To Stay</em>. <br />
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I am very proud of this book, and I'm endlessly grateful to those who have already downloaded it. This title was - incredibly - a buzz book on iTunes the day <em>before</em> its official release. I'd love to get the names of everyone who's bought it, knock on their doors and hug them. But, you know... invasion of privacy, and all that.<br />
<br />
So instead, I'll say this.<br />
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Reader beware.<br />
<br />
If you have read any of my other titles, or if you have downloaded this one expecting a certain degree of romance - I need to warn you that <em>Ask Me To Stay</em> is a little different. It focuses almost entirely on the fractured relationship between brothers Ethan and Dean. There is a romance subplot in this novella, but the first in the Homeland series is - to my mind - contemporary/rural fiction with romantic elements.<br />
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I think I'm incapable of writing a book which doesn't feature two people falling in love - that's just what keeps me interested in the story. But some of the early reviews of this title seem to suggest that the degree of romance took some readers by surprise.<br />
<br />
Read this title to read about family. About redemption and reputation and second chances, both for the heart, and the soul.<br />
<br />
<em>Ask Me For More </em>and <em>Ask Me For Tomorrow</em> are infinitely more focused on romance. Ethan and Sam's relationship arc continues throughout the second and third titles as readers explore Cal and Dean's stories; so you will get the romance that you crave. There will be stomach-dropping nerves, black-moments and soul-stirring intimacy.<br />
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I promise you all of this and more.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00089361440943581487noreply@blogger.com0Melbourne VIC, Australia-37.814107 144.96327999999994-38.6164545 143.67238649999993 -37.0117595 146.25417349999995tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1082351254571571890.post-40391929426875249822013-04-06T07:51:00.003+11:002013-04-06T07:51:15.708+11:00Guest interview with Juanita Kees<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I'm delighted to welcome my second guest to The Write Frequency blog; freelance editor and contemporary romance writer, Juanita Kees. Juanita's first title, <a href="http://juanitakees.com/my-books/" target="_blank"><span style="color: #351c75;">Fly Away Peta</span></a>, was released by <a href="http://www.eternalpress.biz/" target="_blank"><span style="color: #351c75;">Eternal Press</span></a> in August 2012, and her second title, <a href="http://juanitakees.com/my-books/" target="_blank"><span style="color: #351c75;">Under The Hood</span></a>, was released last month with <a href="http://www.escapepublishing.com.au/" target="_blank"><span style="color: #351c75;">Escape Publishing</span></a>. Juanita has been patient enough to answer my many and varied questions, and has supplied an excerpt of her latest release. Read on to learn more about this talented author, and find out what she's up to next.</span><br />
<b><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="color: #b45f06;"><br />
</span></span></b> <b><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="color: #b45f06;">Describe yourself in four words:</span></span></b><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Creative writing cleaning fairy</span><br />
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<b><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="color: #b45f06;">Are characters’ names in your novel important?</span><o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Absolutely! For some reason, the name always comes to me first.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<strong><span style="background-color: white; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="color: #b45f06;">Are there any occupational hazards to being a writer?</span><o:p></o:p></span></span></strong></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><strong><span style="background-color: white; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial; font-weight: normal;">Yes, chocolate belly, numb bum, and a crick in the neck from falling asleep on the keyboard </span></strong><strong><span style="background-color: white; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial; font-weight: normal;">:)</span></strong></span></blockquote>
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<strong><span style="background-color: white; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="color: #b45f06;">Do you write around anything? i.e. day job, kids…</span><o:p></o:p></span></span></strong></div>
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<strong><span style="background-color: white; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial; font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I wish I could! I’m easily distracted by Facebook, the telly or radio, so I like to have complete silence when I write.<o:p></o:p></span></span></strong></div>
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<strong><span style="background-color: white; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial; font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
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<strong><span style="background-color: white; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="color: #b45f06;">What are the most important attributes to remaining sane as a writer?</span><o:p></o:p></span></span></strong></div>
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<strong><span style="background-color: white; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial; font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Insanity (you can’t go insane if you’re already there, can you?), a sense of humour, chocolate, wine and a husband who can cook and clean.<o:p></o:p></span></span></strong></div>
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<strong><span style="background-color: white; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="color: #b45f06;">Was there a lot of research needed for you novel?</span><o:p></o:p></span></span></strong></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><strong><span style="background-color: white; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial; font-weight: normal;">Yes. I spent a lot of time researching the Young Australian League, Police & Citizens' Youth Clubs and of course, the history of Holden. I had to get my facts straight </span></strong><strong><span style="background-color: white; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial; font-weight: normal;">:)</span></strong><strong><span style="background-color: white; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial; font-weight: normal;"><o:p></o:p></span></strong></span></div>
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<strong><span style="background-color: white; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="color: #b45f06;">How much impact does your childhood have on your writing?</span><o:p></o:p></span></span></strong></div>
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<strong><span style="background-color: white; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial; font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Heaps! We grew up on books and story-telling. My dad is a wonderful storyteller and Mum is a big fan of romance novels. <o:p></o:p></span></span></strong></div>
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<strong><span style="background-color: white; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="color: #b45f06;">What are books for?</span><o:p></o:p></span></span></strong></div>
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<strong><span style="background-color: white; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial; font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Reading, loving, cherishing and escaping the real world.<o:p></o:p></span></span></strong></div>
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<strong><span style="background-color: white; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="color: #b45f06;">Are you fun to go on a holiday with?</span><o:p></o:p></span></span></strong></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><strong><span style="background-color: white; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial; font-weight: normal;">You might have to ask my family that one </span></strong><strong><span style="background-color: white; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial; font-weight: normal;">J</span></strong><strong><span style="background-color: white; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial; font-weight: normal;"> I get a bit cranky on aeroplanes…<o:p></o:p></span></strong></span></div>
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<strong><span style="background-color: white; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="color: #b45f06;">If the story on the front page of the newspaper was about you, what would the headline say?</span><span style="color: #333333;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></span></strong></div>
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<strong><span style="background-color: white; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial; color: #333333; font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Crazy Author begs Sexy Policeman to Arrest Her <o:p></o:p></span></span></strong></div>
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<strong><span style="background-color: white; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="color: #b45f06;">Do you work better with a word-count goal or time period goal?</span><o:p></o:p></span></span></strong></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><strong><span style="background-color: white; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial; font-weight: normal;">Time period – word counts scare me :)</span></strong></span></div>
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<b><span style="background-color: white; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="color: #b45f06;"><br /></span></span></span></b>
<b><span style="background-color: white; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="color: #b45f06;">What is the most amount of words you’ve written in a day?</span><o:p></o:p></span></span></b></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">6503<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<b><span style="background-color: white; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="color: #b45f06;">If your book was made into a movie, who would you want to play the main characters?</span><o:p></o:p></span></span></b></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Scott – Hugh Jackman<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">TJ – Sandra Bullock<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<b><span style="background-color: white; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="color: #b45f06;">Strangest place you’ve been writing?</span><o:p></o:p></span></span></b></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="background-color: white; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial;">In front of the bathroom mirror using my eyeliner pencil – true story </span><span style="background-color: white; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial;">:)</span><span style="background-color: white; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<b><span style="background-color: white; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="color: #b45f06;">The most untimely moment when inspiration struck?</span><o:p></o:p></span></span></b></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">On the back of a motorcycle in sub- zero temperatures and our first stop 100km away.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<b><span style="background-color: white; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="color: #b45f06;">Does your book have a theme song?</span><o:p></o:p></span></span></b></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">What about Me – Shannon Noll’s version<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<b><span style="background-color: white; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="color: #b45f06;">Do your friends ever recognise themselves in your books?</span><o:p></o:p></span></span></b></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="background-color: white; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial;">No, but my husband likes to think he’s the role model for the love scenes </span><span style="background-color: white; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial;">:)</span><span style="background-color: white; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<b><span style="background-color: white; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="color: #b45f06;">If you could swap this world for your "book world," would you?</span><o:p></o:p></span></span></b></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I could answer that but I might end up in very hot water!<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<b><span style="background-color: white; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="color: #b45f06;">How many books are in your TRB pile?</span><o:p></o:p></span></span></b></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="background-color: white; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial;">How long is a piece of string? </span><span style="background-color: white; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial;">:)</span><span style="background-color: white; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<b><span style="background-color: white; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="color: #b45f06;">Craziest thing you ever ate?</span><o:p></o:p></span></span></b></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">In my wild youth, I once ate a snake we cooked over the campfire and washed it down with coffee that looked and tasted like tar…eew.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<b><span style="background-color: white;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="color: #b45f06;">When all is said and done, will you have said more than you’ve done?</span><span class="msoIns"><ins cite="mailto:Juanita" datetime="2013-03-26T16:38"><o:p></o:p></ins></span></span></span></b></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><strong><span style="background-color: white; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial; font-weight: normal;">That’s highly likely </span></strong><strong><span style="background-color: white; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial; font-weight: normal;">J</span></strong><strong><span style="background-color: white; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial; font-weight: normal;"> Sometimes the days just aren’t long enough…</span></strong></span></div>
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<b><span style="background-color: white;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="color: #b45f06;"><br /></span></span></span></b>
<b><span style="background-color: white;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="color: #b45f06;">To what degree have you controlled the course of your life?</span><o:p></o:p></span></span></b></div>
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<span style="background-color: white;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The nth degree.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<b><span style="background-color: white;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="color: #b45f06;">Would you agree to reduce your life expectancy by ten years if it meant becoming extremely attractive or famous?</span><span class="msoIns"><ins cite="mailto:Juanita" datetime="2013-03-26T16:42"><o:p></o:p></ins></span></span></span></b></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="background-color: white;">Definitely not…I’d rather be an old man’s darling than a young man’s fool </span><span style="background-color: white;">:)</span></span><span style="background-color: white; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial; font-family: 'Century Gothic', sans-serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<b><span style="background-color: white;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Under The Hood Blurb:<o:p></o:p></span></span></b></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQb00jgSBe1fJBWnhay-my97Wz4e4BukCI03Ep4A7HSeqfZzWikeo23ZvH2VDSLXDbWzZqLJ5JJwypw87IxWjFHwmKYxgbMV5SQCpiSrSlWyKGmlBHkeROul21M6B85CCf3XcamLTkhF_Y/s1600/Under_the_Hood.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQb00jgSBe1fJBWnhay-my97Wz4e4BukCI03Ep4A7HSeqfZzWikeo23ZvH2VDSLXDbWzZqLJ5JJwypw87IxWjFHwmKYxgbMV5SQCpiSrSlWyKGmlBHkeROul21M6B85CCf3XcamLTkhF_Y/s1600/Under_the_Hood.jpg" height="200" width="133" /></a><span lang="EN-US" style="background-color: white;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">When Scott Devin buys a struggling car dealership in semi-rural Western Australia, the last person he expects to see in charge is a stilletto-wearing, mini-skirted foreperson. Exactly the distraction a struggling, male-dominated workshop doesn’t need! But there’s more to TJ Stevens than meets the eye.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="background-color: white;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">TJ Stevens has two major goals in life: to preserve her grandfather’s heritage and protect her teenage rehabilitation program — and she’ll go to any lengths to do it. Scott Devin’s presence is a threat to everything she’s worked hard to achieve, so keeping him at arms-length shouldn’t be a problem…or will it? </span><span style="font-family: Century Gothic, sans-serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<b><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Under The Hood </span></b><b><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Excerpt:<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">All the way up her steep driveway, he had a view of her perfectly rounded butt encased in snug fitting denim. All she had to do was wiggle that lovely butt and she’d have him panting at her feet, he thought wryly. As she veered off the driveway towards a massive shed, he tried to remember the invisible line…and the rules. She dragged the heavy door back on its sliding groove and snapped on the light. Industrial lighting blinded him momentarily as it revealed a beautifully restored 1953 Holden FJ utility. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">“Meet Bruce, the love of Sheila’s life,” TJ said waving her hand. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Bruce and Sheila. He shook his head as he watched her snag a polish cloth off the work bench nearby and rub at the chrome badge on the hood. Scott stepped up to run a hand over the smooth cream fender before strolling around to admire the rear.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">“New look tail light lens, original name badge, original hubcaps. Are these real white-walls?” He moved around the car. “Modified grille, genuine leather upholstery...” he noted in awe. “Where did you get all this stuff?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">“...Straight-six grey motor with modified, longer-life pistons and torsional type compression rings,” she finished for him. “I worked a lot of extra hours to pay for those parts.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">“Do you plan to do the same for Sheila?” He paused with his hand on the polished chrome door handle to look at her as she leaned a hip against the work bench.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">“Yes.” She hooked the key off a nail above the work bench and tossed it to him. “Start him up.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Scott didn’t need a second invitation. He caught the key neatly and opened the door to slide in behind the wheel as TJ popped the hood. He turned the key and the motor purred to life. He got out and stood next to her. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">“Purrs like a kitten.” He ducked his head under the hood and turned his left ear closer to catch the sound. “Smooth as silk.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">TJ beamed. “Hours of fine tuning and good grade oil.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">“You know your stuff,” he said. He straightened and their shoulders touched. There it was again. That zing that couldn’t – shouldn’t – be acknowledged. Yes, she’d crawled right in under his defenses, this enigma that was TJ Stevens. A puzzle he could spend hours trying to solve. Her lack of self-awareness, her energy and enthusiasm, and the fierce pride that came to the fore when challenged – all these traits stirred his senses. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">TJ felt his gaze on her face and ignored the pleasant shiver it sent tingling up her spine. She saw the hand he raised and felt his knuckles brush her cheek. She stepped out of reach.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">“Mind your hands, Scott. I’ll drop the hood.”</span><span style="font-family: Century Gothic, sans-serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGFBR8cvSAxl-YTHLA9xQJH6N4VDfvlueE3hmYHUG48IMKR45usyXSiRovI03RsUoz8iIOiXU6vUCmwqq4s1I5GpFvHs_lhxwdpZUWpDdhZ6GT5F-ozXRmsINyAbI6P6UnbqktHfvR_STj/s1600/facebook_header.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGFBR8cvSAxl-YTHLA9xQJH6N4VDfvlueE3hmYHUG48IMKR45usyXSiRovI03RsUoz8iIOiXU6vUCmwqq4s1I5GpFvHs_lhxwdpZUWpDdhZ6GT5F-ozXRmsINyAbI6P6UnbqktHfvR_STj/s1600/facebook_header.jpg" height="237" width="640" /></a></div>
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<b><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">What I’m working on now:<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">You met him in <a href="http://www.eternalpress.biz/book.php?isbn=9781615727087"><span style="color: #351c75;">Fly Away Peta</span></a>. He starts a murder investigation in <a href="http://www.escapepublishing.com.au/product/9780857990297"><span style="color: #351c75;">Under the Hood</span></a>. When will Detective Mark Johnson have his chance at happiness and what’s next for the bad guys? Find out over at <a href="http://romancebookhaven.blogspot.com.au/2013/03/juanita-kees-talks-about-under-hood.html?spref=fb"><span style="color: #351c75;">Romance Book Haven</span></a>.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 115%;">On the Web: </span><a href="http://www.kees2create.com.au/%0d"><span style="line-height: 115%;"><span style="color: #351c75;">http://www.kees2create.com.au/</span></span></a><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> <a href="http://juanitakees.com/"><span style="color: #351c75;">http://juanitakees.com/</span></a><u><span lang="EN-US" style="line-height: 115%;"><o:p></o:p></span></u></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 115%;">Twitter: </span><a href="https://twitter.com/#!/juanitakees"><span style="line-height: 115%;"><span style="color: #351c75;">https://twitter.com/#!/juanitakees</span></span></a><span lang="EN-US" style="line-height: 115%;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 115%;">Facebook: </span><span style="line-height: 115%;"><span style="color: #351c75;"><a href="https://www.facebook.com/pages/Juanita-Kees-Author-Page/119574648138202">https://www.facebook.com/pages/Juanita-Kees-Author-Page/</a></span></span></span><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 115%;">Thanks for visiting the blog, Juanita!</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 115%;">Elise</span></span></div>
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<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00089361440943581487noreply@blogger.com5Australia-25.274398 133.77513599999997-74.9937805 51.157948499999975 24.4449845 -143.60767650000003tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1082351254571571890.post-52195523369755873032013-04-04T12:31:00.000+11:002013-04-04T12:31:19.387+11:00My first fabulous guest on The Write Frequency, author Ros Baxter<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I'm very excited to welcome Harper Collins Australia and Escape Publishing author, Ros Baxter, as my first guest on The Write Frequency. I'm fortunate enough to have her answering a few questions and sharing some information about her latest release, <a href="http://www.escapepublishing.com.au/product/9780857990440" target="_blank">Fish Out of Water</a>, available now from <a href="http://www.escapepublishing.com.au/" target="_blank">Escape Publishing</a>.</span><br />
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Refresh your beverage of choice, sit back and enjoy Ros's fun interview.</span><br />
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<b><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="color: #b45f06;">Describe yourself in four words?</span></span></b><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Busy (busy, busy, busy). Noisy (genetic). Affectionate (love a cuddle). Sleep-deprived. (Does a hyphenation count as one word?).<b><o:p></o:p></b></span></div>
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<strong><span style="background-color: white; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="color: #b45f06;">Do you write around anything? i.e. day job, kids…</span><o:p></o:p></span></span></strong></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial; font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I write around everything – four kids, a day job, a charity, and several voluntary roles. But, as my mother, multi-tasker extraordinaire, always said: <i>you want something done, give it to a busy person. <o:p></o:p></i></span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial; font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Texting was invented for people like me. I have a thumb the size of a pumpkin.<b><o:p></o:p></b></span></span></div>
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<strong><span style="background-color: white; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="color: #b45f06;">Does your computer/iPad/laptop (choose one) have a name?</span><o:p></o:p></span></span></strong></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial; font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Sir. (In my head, it’s kind of bossy. I blame 50 Shades...)<b><o:p></o:p></b></span></span></div>
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<strong><span style="background-color: white; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="color: #b45f06;">Who would play you in a film of your life?</span><o:p></o:p></span></span></strong></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="background-color: white; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial; font-weight: normal;">My daughter (when she’s a little older). She does THE BEST impression of me. Not particularly flattering, but accurate. Loud. Bossy. But lots of cuddles.</span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<b><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="color: #b45f06;">Biggest writing-related mistake?</span><o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The first book I wrote was what I used to fondly call “kinda tangential”. I had to learn that what works telling drunken stories to your mates doesn't necessarily translate to the page. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">For a start, you can’t scream at readers to “lissenup” if they’re getting bored...<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<strong><span style="background-color: white; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="color: #b45f06;">Have you ever read/seen yourself as a character in a book/movie?</span><o:p></o:p></span></span></strong></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial; font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I think this is possibly one of those perspective things. Yes, I have definitely seen myself (dreamed myself?)as a character in a novel. Some flawed romantic heroine of course – you know: Catherine from Wuthering Heights, Anna Karenina et cetera.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial; font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">My kids, however, possibly have a different perspective, depending on the day: Mrs Dursley from Harry Potter, The Wicked Witch of the West, and various other killjoys.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial; font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">My husband would probably cast a vote for some character who can’t say no and drinks too much wine. Probably someone played by Meg Ryan (although I only wish my hair was that good).<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial; font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">And my friends would choose someone who frequently ends up in a muddle: Bridget Jones, Alison Scott from Knocked Up, and so on.<b><o:p></o:p></b></span></span></div>
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<strong><span style="background-color: white; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="color: #b45f06;">Are you fun to go on a holiday with?</span><o:p></o:p></span></span></strong></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial; font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Hell yeah! If your idea of fun is lying in bed all day reading books in your pyjamas (oops, that’s my idea of fun)!!<b><o:p></o:p></b></span></span></div>
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<strong><span style="background-color: white; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="color: #b45f06;">If the story on the front page of the newspaper was about you, what would the headline say?</span><span style="color: #333333;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></span></strong></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial; color: #333333; font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">BRISBANE WOMAN FOUND DEAD STILL TEXTING.<b><o:p></o:p></b></span></span></div>
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<b><span style="background-color: white; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="color: #b45f06;">Strangest place you’ve been writing?</span><o:p></o:p></span></span></b></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I write everywhere – toilet, kitchen, kids swimming lessons, bed. Strangest (as in, most unusual) place would probably be at my computer.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Many thanks Elise for having me. Love the questions, and love your work!<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="background-color: white; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial;">Ros </span><span style="background-color: white; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial;">:)</span></span><span style="background-color: white; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial; font-family: 'Century Gothic', sans-serif;"><br clear="all" style="mso-special-character: line-break; page-break-before: always;" /> <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">You
can email Ros at <a href="mailto:rosbaxterink@gmail.com"><span style="color: #351c75;">rosbaxterink@gmail.com</span></a> or find her at
<a href="http://www.facebook.com/RosBaxterInk"><span style="color: #351c75;">www.facebook.com/RosBaxterInk</span></a>, on twitter
@RosBaxter, or <a href="http://www.rosbaxterink.com/"><span style="color: #351c75;">www.rosbaxterink.com</span></a></span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">.</span><span style="font-size: small;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<b><span style="background-color: white; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial; font-family: 'Century Gothic', sans-serif;">Blurb:<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><i><span style="line-height: 115%;">“It’s
</span></i><i><span style="line-height: 115%;"> Janet Evanovich’s Stephanie Plum meets Splash
in a sexy, smart-talking debut about a mermaid in a desert, a city under water,
and the secret that no-one is supposed to uncover.”</span></i></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxPgsc4eN9Fbu7xt00ggr11hyphenhyphenZguQnlUPgRRU9mvFCKevtaE5FZa-La5Ajvq97ugWdxzYj8xegkROMsaz_fc5Mgw0t7ilbYHHW1WRV2cjnmWCw53dJxOruD-JjE3gKtHGd5eZ68Kc_1Zt8/s1600/Ros+Baxter+Fish+Out+Of+Water.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxPgsc4eN9Fbu7xt00ggr11hyphenhyphenZguQnlUPgRRU9mvFCKevtaE5FZa-La5Ajvq97ugWdxzYj8xegkROMsaz_fc5Mgw0t7ilbYHHW1WRV2cjnmWCw53dJxOruD-JjE3gKtHGd5eZ68Kc_1Zt8/s1600/Ros+Baxter+Fish+Out+Of+Water.jpg" width="136" /></a><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b><span style="line-height: 115%;">Fish out of Water</span></b><span style="line-height: 115%;"><br />
Dirtwater's straight-talking Deputy Sheriff has a lot on her plate: a nicotine
addiction that's a serious liability for a mermaid, a solider-of-fortune ex
who's hooked on her Mom's brownies, a gorgeous, naked stranger in her shower,
and a mysterious dead blonde with a fish tattoo on Main Street. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; line-height: 115%;">Oh, and one other thing.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; line-height: 115%;">She's scheduled to die on her thirtieth birthday - in three weeks -
unless she can 'change the course of destiny and save the world entire'. Throw
in a Mom who's the local Mayor and a Dad who's been locked in the county jail
for twelve years, and that's all the trouble she needs without her mermaid
roots coming back to haunt her.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 115%;">Rania's heading home to Aegira for a family wedding but
she's starting to have a sinking feeling that's got nothing to do with
hydroporting seven miles under the sea and everything to do with some weird
connections that seem to be emerging between her, the dead blonde, her Mom's
shady past and a ten thousand year old prophesy. Now if she can just steal a
corpse, get a crazy Aegirian priest off her case, work out who the hell's
trying to kill her and stop sleeping with the fishes, she might be able to
unravel the prophesy, the mystery of the missing choirgirls and the secrets
hidden in her Mom's past. And maybe even save her own ass while she's at it.</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Fish Out of Water is available from<span style="color: #351c75;"> <a href="http://www.escapepublishing.com.au/product/9780857990440"><span style="line-height: 115%;"><span style="color: #351c75;">Escape
Publishing</span></span></a></span><span style="line-height: 115%;">, or </span><a href="http://www.amazon.com/Fish-Out-Of-Water-ebook/dp/B00BSKJGCY/ref=sr_1_5?ie=UTF8&qid=1364296421&sr=8-5&keywords=fish+out+of+water"><span style="line-height: 115%;"><span style="color: #351c75;">Amazon</span></span></a><span style="line-height: 115%;">.</span> <span style="line-height: 115%;">Find out more at </span><a href="http://www.rosbaxterink.com/"><span style="line-height: 115%;"><span style="color: #351c75;">www.rosbaxterink.com</span></span></a></span><span style="font-size: 11.5pt; line-height: 115%;">
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="text-indent: 36pt;"><b> </b></span></span><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; text-indent: 36pt;">The
mildewy pink curtain billowed forward and a large shape crashed to the floor,
right between Missy and me, wrapped in the voluminous plastic.</span><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; text-indent: 36pt;"> </span><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; text-indent: 36pt;">Missy screamed.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; margin-left: 0cm; margin-right: -16.7pt; margin-top: 0cm; text-indent: 36.0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">My
heart tapped out a tango and one hand went to my Glock without any conscious
command as I tried to disentangle the curtain from the lumpy shape.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; margin-left: 0cm; margin-right: -16.7pt; margin-top: 0cm; text-indent: 36.0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">As
I pulled it free, I had one of those moments.
You know the ones. Where
everything slows down and you know that for the rest of your life you’ll be
able to describe it in vivid technicolor.
Like the time I turned on the tv and saw that plane crashing into the
towers.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; margin-left: 0cm; margin-right: -16.7pt; margin-top: 0cm; text-indent: 36.0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">He
was almost supernaturally beautiful. And
naked. A long trickle of thick red blood
ran from the side of one temple down to a graceful jaw.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; margin-left: 0cm; margin-right: -16.7pt; margin-top: 0cm; text-indent: 36.0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">And
he was lying on the floor half in and half out of Missy’s teeming shower.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; margin-left: 0cm; margin-right: -16.7pt; margin-top: 0cm; text-indent: 36.0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">Had
he been there, in the shower, the whole time?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; margin-left: 0cm; margin-right: -16.7pt; margin-top: 0cm; text-indent: 36.0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">“Sweet
Jesus,” Missy whistled, clearly impressed as she studied the region I was
studiously avoiding. As beautiful as he
was, it didn’t seem right to be copping an eyeful.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; margin-left: 0cm; margin-right: -16.7pt; margin-top: 0cm; text-indent: 36.0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">Especially
when he seemed to be in pretty bad shape.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; margin-left: 0cm; margin-right: -16.7pt; margin-top: 0cm; text-indent: 36.0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">He
was long and lean, dark blonde and strong like a runner. Golden hair glistened on his wet, brown body,
but he was curled like a fetus and moaning softly. Something about the sight of him, which
should have screamed “get the pervert outta here”, touched me right down
inside. Right down in my belly. And
lower. I wanted to cover him up. I wanted to help him. And some parts of me
wanted to do other things too, but I wasn’t giving them any airtime.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00089361440943581487noreply@blogger.com5Australia-25.274398 133.77513599999997-74.9937805 51.157948499999975 24.4449845 -143.60767650000003tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1082351254571571890.post-42184109438244532952013-03-16T04:00:00.000+11:002013-03-28T11:55:20.712+11:00Destiny Romance's first series, coming soon.I'm on a countdown. It's less than a month before the release of the first book in my novella series. It's been given a new town name, a new series title, and an official release date; and any day now, the cover should be arriving in my inbox.<br />
<br />
Leonai has become Hinterdown. For various reasons, the top two being the ease of pronunciation and avoiding the hint of fantasy. This is not a fantasy novel by any stretch of the imagination. Ethan, Cal and Dean's stories are hopefully as real as fiction gets. Which is a strange claim to make. But I've aimed for natural dialogue, realistic timelines and reactions, a rich country atmosphere and people so friendly and complex that readers will hopefully feel like they know them. <br />
<br />
The new town name was inspired by the Hinterlands, and in my imagination it looks very much like a town I visited once in the Upper Hunter Valley. I'll be talking about this town in a later blog post.<br />
<br />
Because each novella features a returning character, someone who - for reason or reasons explored throughout the series - left the town and found cause to return - the title was shaped around the magnetism of home.<br />
<br />
So without further ado, I introduce to you all, The Homeland Books and book one, Ask Me To Stay. It will be released on April 15, and will include an exclusive excerpt of book two, Ask Me For More.<br />
<br />
I will be on a blog tour next month to promote and discuss the first title, and I would love to read your comments and share a bit of the story with you. My blog tour schedule is below, and there will be everything from interviews, to blog posts and giveaways.<br />
<br />
<span style="color: black;">15 April: The Book Vixen (</span><a href="http://www.thebookvixen.com/" target="_blank"><span style="color: black;">link</span></a><span style="color: black;">)</span><br />
<span style="color: black;">16 April: Book'd Out (</span><a href="http://www.bookdout.wordpress.com/" target="_blank"><span style="color: black;">link</span></a><span style="color: black;">)</span><br />
17 April: Sassy Book Lovers (<a href="http://sassybooklovers.blogspot.com/"><span style="color: black;">link</span></a>)<br />
<span style="color: black;">18 April: Ex Libris (</span><a href="http://www.stella-exlibris.com/" target="_blank"><span style="color: black;">link</span></a><span style="color: black;">)</span><br />
<span style="color: black;">19 April: You Gotta Read Reviews (</span><a href="http://yougottaread.com/" target="_blank"><span style="color: black;">link</span></a><span style="color: black;">)</span><br />
<span style="color: black;">20 April: Jenn J McLeod's Author Harvest (</span><a href="http://www.jennjmcleod.com/author-harvest/" target="_blank"><span style="color: black;">link</span></a><span style="color: black;">)</span><br />
<span style="color: black;">22 April: Juanita Kees' Kees 2 Create (</span><a href="http://www.kees2create.com.au/the-other-side/index.php" target="_blank"><span style="color: black;">link</span></a><span style="color: black;">)</span><br />
23 April: Ros Baxter Ink (<a href="http://www.rosbaxterink.com/blog.php"><span style="color: black;">link</span></a>)<br />
<span style="color: black;">24 April: Romance Australia Author Spotlight (</span><a href="http://www.romanceaustralia.com/" target="_blank"><span style="color: black;">link</span></a><span style="color: black;">)</span><br />
<span style="color: black;">26 April: Kimba the Caffeinated Book Reviewer (</span><a href="http://www.caffeinatedbookreviewer.com/" target="_blank"><span style="color: black;">link</span></a><span style="color: black;">)</span><br />
<span style="color: black;">27 April: Satin Sheets Romance (</span><a href="http://www.satinsheetsromance.blogspot.com.au/" target="_blank"><span style="color: black;">link</span></a><span style="color: black;">)</span><br />
<span style="color: black;">28 April: Susanne Bellamy's All The World's A Page (</span><a href="http://www.susannebellamy.com/all-the-worlds-a-page.html" target="_blank"><span style="color: black;">link</span></a><span style="color: black;">)</span><br />
<span style="color: black;">29 April: Melissa's Mochas, Mysteries and More (</span><a href="http://www.mochasmysteriesandmore.blogspot.com/" target="_blank"><span style="color: black;">link</span></a><span style="color: black;">)</span><br />
Nas Dean's Romance Book Paradise (<a href="http://nas-dean.blogspot.com.au/"><span style="color: black;">link</span></a>)<br />
<span style="color: black;">30 April: Lily Malone's Left Field With Lily (</span><a href="http://lilymalone.wordpress.com/" target="_blank"><span style="color: black;">link</span></a><span style="color: black;">)</span><br />
1 May: Page Flipperz (<a href="http://www.pageflipperz.blogspot.com.au/"><span style="color: black;">link</span></a>)<br />
<span style="color: black;">4 May: Bookish Ardour (</span><a href="http://www.bookishardour.com/"><span style="color: black;">link</span></a><span style="color: black;">)</span><br />
<span style="color: black;">5 May: Nicki J Markus (</span><a href="http://www.nickijmarkus.com/" target="_blank"><span style="color: black;">link</span></a><span style="color: black;">)</span><br />
<span style="color: black;">6 May: Clean Romance Reviews (</span><a href="http://www.cleanromancereviews.com/" target="_blank"><span style="color: black;">link</span></a><span style="color: black;">)</span><br />
<span style="color: black;">7 May: Ramblings From This Chick (</span><a href="http://ramblingsfromthischick.blogspot.com.au/"><span style="color: black;">link</span></a><span style="color: black;">)</span><br />
22 May: Louise Reynold's Cooking The Books (<a href="mailto:fitzroylou@gmail.com" target="_blank"><span style="color: black;">link</span></a>)<br />
<br />
I can't wait to introduce you to Ethan and Samantha. And if you read the series, you may understand why I'm also so excited to introduce you to little Nina.<br />
<br />
ARCs will be on NetGalley within a few weeks. If you're a reviewer or blog host and you would like to know more about the series, I would love to hear from you. I've also launched a newsletter, so sign up through my web page <span style="color: black;">(</span><a href="http://www.elisekackers.net/"><span style="color: black;">link</span></a><span style="color: black;">)</span> if you want to know things before anyone else.<br />
<br />
The list above is subject to change. Hopefully the kind of change that makes for a longer scroll! ;)<br />
<br />
Happy writing and reading. I'm off to sail around the bay.<br />
<br />
EliseAnonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00089361440943581487noreply@blogger.com2Melbourne VIC, Australia-37.814107 144.96327999999994-38.6164545 143.67238649999993 -37.0117595 146.25417349999995tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1082351254571571890.post-59788312003612152862013-02-09T21:08:00.000+11:002013-02-09T21:20:52.402+11:00The lovers' month, and the long awaited first kiss.<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">With Valentine's Day just around the corner, my mind's on romance. I'm thinking about the first time eyes meet, the first date, the first kiss... I have my own experiences to reflect on, but this lovers' month has also got me thinking about the first fictional couple who stepped out into the big wide world with me.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial;">In August 2012 I was a launch author with Penguin's Destiny Romance, and I had the great privilege of reading an excerpt from my launch title, <em>Small Town Storm,</em> to an assembled crowd at the Romance Writers of Australia national conference. It was the first time I introduced Jordan Hill and Erica Lawrence to the public, and even today, these complex characters are never far from my mind. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial;">So I'd like to share a special moment of theirs with you.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial;">The moment that Jordan and Erica <em>finally</em> kiss. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial;">Happy Valentines Day to all of you, may you be spoiled somehow, may someone attempt to touch your heart, and may you smile more than you do on a typical day. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial;">A bit of background first:</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">
</span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">It all began with love. The pure, innocent kind that only an
eight year old heart can know. But when a family tragedy tore apart her family,
Erica was literally dragged from the arms of her best friend, Jordan.<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">
</span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Nineteen years later, the young
boy with a plastic police badge and a hero complex has grown up to be a
detective, and the fragile, broken little girl has become a vet, letting only
animals touch her distrusting heart. But both are dogged by the shadows of that
night and independently make the decision to return home.<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">
</span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">In <st1:city w:st="on"><st1:place w:st="on">Olinda</st1:place></st1:city> she is known as Erica Lawrence, the
charming but emaciated little girl that was poisoned by her mother. Her return
is the best gossip the town has had in years, and everyone is convinced that
love between the pair is inevitable. All eyes are upon them, watching and
waiting.<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">
</span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">But their trip down memory lane
is interrupted by two brutal murders, and Erica appears to be the next target. <o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">
</span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The townspeople are jumping at
shadows and pointing fingers in every direction, <st1:country-region w:st="on"><st1:place w:st="on">Jordan</st1:place></st1:country-region>’s team has gone rogue,
conducting their own investigations and nominating their own suspects, and his
objectivity has been clouded – Erica’s safety is now his primary concern. <o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">
</span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Even as the horror creeps ever
closer, Jordan and Erica are drawn together. The need for answers that once
consumed them doesn’t burn so brightly now, and when their hearts begin to
align, they dare to do something neither has had the courage to do before: look
forward.<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">
</span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">On the precipice of confessing their
love –the world appears to be against them.<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<br />
<div align="center">
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">* * * </span></span></div>
<div align="center">
<span style="font-family: Arial;"></span> </div>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="color: #783f04;">Erica laughed and settled back against the wall. Her
eyes shone in the feeble torch light, the thin beam reflected in her eyes. She rolled
her head towards him and smiled.<o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
<span style="color: #783f04; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">
</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="color: #783f04;">Jordan shifted so that she could rest her head against
his shoulder. ‘If that git Elliot didn’t upset you, then who did?’<o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
<span style="color: #783f04; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">
</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="color: #783f04;">‘Beth.’<o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
<span style="color: #783f04; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">
</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="color: #783f04;">Jordan raised a brow. ‘The woman with the poison
tongue. What did she say this time?’<o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
<span style="color: #783f04; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">
</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="color: #783f04;">Her fingers flexed in his hand. ‘She cornered me when
I was coming out of the bathroom. She was digging for dirt, as usual.’<o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
<span style="color: #783f04; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">
</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="color: #783f04;">‘That’s our Beth.’ <o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
<span style="color: #783f04; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">
</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="color: #783f04;">‘Anyway, all she wanted to talk about was you and me.
Said the town was fooled, thinking Elliot and I were an item. She knew better,
she said. Wanted a confession of sorts so I snapped at her and told her to mind
her own business.’ There was a long pause as Erica gathered the courage to
continue. ‘Then she said I was just like my mother: secretive and impulsive in
love. She said . . . ’ Erica hiccupped, too mortified to
continue.<o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
<span style="color: #783f04; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">
</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="color: #783f04;">Jordan winced and released her hand so he could drape
his arm around her shoulders. He pulled her towards him as sobs shook her body.
They sat like that until her rasping breaths subsided, then he pushed her back
and cradled the sides of her face. <o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
<span style="color: #783f04; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">
</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="color: #783f04;">‘Listen to me. I can understand how that would have
hurt you. But you are <span class="15Italic">nothing</span> like your mother.’ He
waited as she nodded. ‘She was a famous, attractive and stubborn woman. You are
obviously none of these things.’<o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
<span style="color: #783f04; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">
</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="color: #783f04;">Erica gave a watery laugh.<o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
<span style="color: #783f04; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">
</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="color: #783f04;">Jordan smiled. ‘Seriously though, your mother was a
monster. No one could possibly liken you to her and believe it. Don’t let a
nasty piece of work like Beth convince you otherwise.’ <o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
<span style="color: #783f04; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">
</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="color: #783f04;">She melted into his arms and buried her face in his
shirt. Very gently he pressed his lips to the top of her head. When he spoke
again, he murmured into her hair. ‘As for impulsive in love . . . of all
people, I can attest to that being rubbish.’<o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
<span style="color: #783f04; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">
</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="color: #783f04;">Erica lifted her shoulders slightly. And he would have
traded almost anything to know what she was thinking. <o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
<span style="color: #783f04; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">
</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="color: #783f04;">When she finally answered, his breath caught. ‘I don’t
know. Maybe I am impulsive. I fell in love a long time ago – very
hard and very fast.’ Her face moved against his chest, and it felt like she
might be smiling. ‘I fell in love with a boy. He had a police badge and a hero
complex.’ <o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
<span style="color: #783f04; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">
</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="color: #783f04;">Very slowly, she sat up and stared into his eyes. The
darkness cast shadows along the lines of her face. ‘Then I fell in love again. With
a man. He has a police badge and a hero complex, too.’<o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
<span style="color: #783f04; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">
</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="color: #783f04;">The air sizzled with tension.<o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
<span style="color: #783f04; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">
</span><br />
<span style="color: #783f04; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">It would have been the moment to kiss her, but Jordan
forced himself to wait just a fraction longer. It surprised him that he could
think clearly when she was pressed up against him this way. It made it harder
still, that her mouth was lifted and her eyes were on his lips. But there was
something he needed to do first.</span><br />
<o:p><span style="color: #783f04; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"></span></o:p><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="color: #783f04;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> H</span>is hand
slipped beneath the jacket she wore and fumbled in one of the inside pockets.
He withdrew his wallet and flipped it open, then pulled something free. When he
angled the flashlight over the small item on his upturned palm, the slice of
light illuminated a small plastic bag. In it was a delicate silver chain and a
small blue bird pendant.<o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
<span style="color: #783f04; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">
</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="color: #783f04;">‘It would seem,’
Jordan said softly, staring at the old necklace, ‘that I fell in love with you
at the same time.’<o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
<span style="color: #783f04; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">
</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="color: #783f04;">Seemingly overwhelmed, Erica closed her eyes. Tears
slid down her cheeks and Jordan moved in to kiss them away. He clasped the
chain around her neck and pressed his lips to the spot where the pendant lay
against her throat. It sat much higher than it had when she had worn it as a
child.<o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
<span style="color: #783f04; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">
</span><br />
<span style="color: #783f04; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">He lowered his mouth to hers.</span><br />
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-fareast-font-family: "MS Mincho"; mso-fareast-language: EN-US;"></span><br />
<div class="04BodyText-Left" style="margin: 1em 0px;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-fareast-font-family: "MS Mincho"; mso-fareast-language: EN-US;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="color: #783f04;">And his mind blurred. She tasted sweet and
somehow familiar, as if they
had kissed before – if only in his dreams.
Her tongue grazed his lower lip and he thought he would break with urgency. <o:p></o:p></span></span></span></div>
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-fareast-font-family: "MS Mincho"; mso-fareast-language: EN-US;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="color: #783f04;">
He drew back and kissed the sensitive flesh of her
neck, curling his fingers in her thick hair. Her sighs quickened his pulse and
brought his lips back to hers.<o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
<span style="color: #783f04; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"></span><br />
<span style="color: #783f04; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">When at last they separated, their hands still
clinging to the other, there were no words. So for the longest time they sat in
warm silence.</span><br />
</span><div class="04BodyText-Left" style="margin: 1em 0px;">
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experienced his last first kiss. This was it – this was that great
love that people spoke of. He smiled into the darkness, which somehow seemed
much brighter now.<o:p></o:p></span></span></span></div>
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</span></span><span style="color: black; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> </span><br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00089361440943581487noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1082351254571571890.post-23520643798076965062013-02-06T13:31:00.001+11:002013-02-07T08:41:55.209+11:00The Next Big Thing Blog Hop<br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I'm delighted to be part of The Next Big Thing Blog Hop. I've been asked to answer ten questions about my new work and then tag other authors to do the same. So without further ado, see below for a scoop on my upcoming romance novella (the first of a series - so excited!), and follow the links at the bottom to continue the hop. If you have any questions, I'd be delighted to answer them. If you're a reviewer and you're interested in reading and discussing the title, please contact with me about acquiring an ARC - I'd love to hear from you.</span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b>1: What is the working title of your book?</b></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Ask Me To Stay</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b>2: Where did the idea come from for the book?</b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I was participating in the international 3-Day Novel Contest and I wanted to write a short, emotionally satisfying story about returning home with an undeserved reputation. All I knew when I sat down to start it was that the novella featured two estranged brothers and their best friend, a death and a lie. Then fingers went to keyboard and an entirely unexpected first sentence appeared. After that, I was hooked. I had to finish Ethan's story.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b>3: What genre does your book come under?</b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Contemporary rural romance - the setting is a fictional small town in country New South Wales, Australia.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b>4: Which actors would you choose to play your characters in a movie rendition?</b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">In my wildest dreams, Ethan Foster the story's male protagonist would be played by Jared Padaleki. His brother Dean would be played by Jensen Ackles and their best friend Caleb O'Hara would be played by Alex O’Loughlin. Samantha O'Hara, Ethan's high school sweetheart, could be played by Ellen Page. In my mind, little Nina Foster looks a little like child actress Ashley Boettcher, and her brother Rowan like child actor Owen Best. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b>5: What is the one-sentence synopsis of your book?</b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Ethan Foster has been protecting a secret for almost a decade, but when he faces losing everyone he's ever loved all over again, the past becomes too heavy a burden to bear.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b>6: Is your book self-published, published by an independent publisher, or represented by an agency?</b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Contracted by Penguin's Destiny Romance, scheduled to be released April this year.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b>7: How long did it take you to write the first draft of your manuscript?</b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Three days. I wrote into the early morning, all through the day... I achieved nothing else for an entire long weekend.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b>8: What other books would you compare this story to within your genre?</b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Perhaps Kelly Hunter's<i> Wish </i>and Rachael John's <i>Jilted</i>. Both are rural contemporary romances. Kelly's is a novella about two people trying to come together despite a traumatic past and the scrutiny of a small town. Rachael's female protagonist returns home notorious and persecuted for running away many years ago. My character Ethan is the same, he has an undeserved reputation and a childhood sweetheart who still stirs his heart.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b>9: Who or what inspired you to write this book?</b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The challenge of drafting a complete work under an absurd deadline was what initially inspired me. I wanted to see if I could do it, and what I could produce under pressure. Prior to that, I kept imagining a man driving through the night, led home by the magnetism of family and obligation.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b>10: What else about your book might pique the reader’s interest?</b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">This is the first in a novella series about the lives and loves of Ethan, Cal and Dean. The second and third novellas are expected to come out later this year, so you don't have to wait long between reads. There's a strong focus on family, forgiveness and self-sacrifice, and a gorgeous little girl who stole my heart. The story begins a few days after a tragedy but don't be put off by that because it's also very light-hearted; I want you to laugh and sigh. This story will make you feel good, author's promise!</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Thank you to Patricia Zick for inviting me to join the blog hop. Patricia's Next Big Thing Blog Hop post is <a href="http://pittsburghwriter.wordpress.com/2013/01/31/the-next-big-thing-blog-hop-2/" target="_blank">here</a>. Please take some time to visit her website and blog and read about her latest release, contemporary literature novel, <i>Trails in the Sand. </i></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Web: </span><a href="http://www.pczick.com/" style="font-size: 16px; line-height: 18px;" target="_blank"><span style="color: black; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">www.pczick.com</span></a><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Blog: </span><a href="http://www.pczick.wordpress.com/" style="line-height: 18px;" target="_blank"><span style="color: black; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">www.pczick.wordpress.com</span></a><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Twitter: </span><a href="https://twitter.com/PCZick" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="color: black;"><span style="line-height: 15px;">https://twitter.com/</span><span style="line-height: 15px;">PCZick</span></span></a><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Facebook: </span><a href="https://www.facebook.com/PCZick" style="line-height: 18px;" target="_blank"><span style="color: black; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">https://www.facebook.com/<wbr></wbr>PCZick</span></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">See below for a list of fabulous authors you should acquaint yourself with:</span></div>
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<span style="color: purple; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b>Keziah Hill</b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Author of <span style="line-height: 23px;">steamy erotic romance and romantic suspense, Keziah has been recently published with </span><span style="line-height: 23px;">Momentum, and </span><span style="line-height: 23px;">Harlequin imprint, Escape Publishing. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Web: <a href="http://www.keziahhill.com/" target="_blank"><span style="color: black;">http://www.keziahhill.com</span></a></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Blog: <a href="http://keziahhill.com/blog/" target="_blank"><span style="color: black;">http://keziahhill.com/blog/</span></a></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Twitter: <a href="https://twitter.com/KeziahHill" target="_blank"><span style="color: black;">https://twitter.com/KeziahHill</span></a></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Facebook: <a href="https://www.facebook.com/KeziahHillAuthor" target="_blank"><span style="color: black;">https://www.facebook.com/<wbr></wbr>KeziahHillAuthor</span></a></span></div>
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<span style="color: purple; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b>Jennifer St George</b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Contemporary romance author of <i>The Convenient Bride</i> talks about her latest release with Penguin imprint, Destiny Romance, <i>Seducing The Secret Heiress, </i><a href="http://www.jenniferstgeorge.com/blog.html" target="_blank">here</a>. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="color: #222222;">Web: </span><a href="http://www.jenniferstgeorge.com/" target="_blank"><span style="color: black;">www.jenniferstgeorge.com</span></a></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Twitter: <a href="https://twitter.com/JenStGeorge/" target="_blank"><span style="color: black;">https://twitter.com/<wbr></wbr>JenStGeorge/</span></a></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Facebook: <a href="http://www.facebook.com/jennifer.s.george.31?fref=ts" target="_blank"><span style="color: black;">http://www.facebook.com/<wbr></wbr>jennifer.s.george.31?fref=ts</span></a></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span><b style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="color: purple;">Imelda Evans</span></b><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Published with Destiny Romance, Imelda's debut novel <i>Rules Are For Breaking</i> was a finalist in the 2012 ARRA Awards Favourite Contemporary Romance category.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Blog: <a href="http://imeldaevans.wordpress.com/blog/" style="background-color: white;" target="_blank"><span style="color: black;">http://imeldaevans.wordpress.<wbr></wbr>com/blog/</span></a></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Twitter: <a href="https://twitter.com/Imelda_Evans" style="background-color: white;" target="_blank"><span style="color: black;">https://twitter.com/Imelda_<wbr></wbr>Evans</span></a></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Facebook: <a href="https://www.facebook.com/ImeldaEvansAuthor" style="background-color: white;" target="_blank"><span style="color: black;">https://www.facebook.com/<wbr></wbr>ImeldaEvansAuthor</span></a></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b><span style="color: purple;">Louise Reynolds</span></b></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Another wonderful Destineer, Louise's title <i>Her Italian Aristocrat </i>takes contemporary romance readers abroad.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Website: </span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">http://www.louisereynolds.com.au</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Blog: http://louwrites.wordpress.com/</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Twitter: <a href="https://twitter.com/LouiseHReynolds"><span style="color: black;">https://twitter.com/LouiseHReynolds</span></a></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Facebook: <a href="https://www.facebook.com/LouiseReynoldsauthorpage"><span style="color: black;">https://www.facebook.com/LouiseReynoldsauthorpage</span></a></span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white; font-family: arial, sans-serif;"><span style="color: purple;"><b>M.O Kenyan</b></span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Author of </span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; line-height: 1.1;"><i>Shades of Spring 1964: Letters to my daughter;</i> you can connect with her the following ways:</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Web: <a href="http://t.co/0G7bLz2o" target="_blank"><span style="color: black;">http://t.co/0G7bLz2o</span></a></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Blog: <a href="http://www.mokauthor.wordpress.com/" target="_blank"><span style="color: black;">www.mokauthor.wordpress.com</span></a></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Twitter: <a href="https://twitter.com/MOK_Author" target="_blank"><span style="color: black;">https://twitter.com/MOK_Author</span></a></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Facebook: <a href="http://www.facebook.com/MokAuthor?ref=hl" target="_blank"><span style="color: black;">http://www.facebook.com/<wbr></wbr>MokAuthor?ref=hl</span></a></span><br />
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<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00089361440943581487noreply@blogger.com3Melbourne VIC, Australia-37.819548028632354 144.97146606445312-37.869710028632355 144.89078506445313 -37.769386028632354 145.05214706445312tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1082351254571571890.post-12502597243969986402013-01-22T16:31:00.000+11:002013-02-06T13:35:21.302+11:00My mad schemes to cheat time...<span style="font-family: Helv; font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Helv; font-size: x-small;">
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I confess to being frustrated. If I was science-clever and had a basement, I would be in a lab coat devising a complex process for human duplication. My double could go to work, and I - the original - could write full time. </span></div>
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Of course, <i>being</i> a writer means that I see all kinds of plot holes in the above. My salary would effectively halve because I would be supporting two of us. My social life would suffer (because said double would be fostering relationships whilst I would be writing), and then there's the conundrum of who sleeps where, and with who.</div>
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Clearly, I'm not going to share my partner, but would my double feel that he was in some way hers?</div>
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Okay, scratch that. I don't want a double.</div>
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What I want is more time. To do everything, to do a bit of nothing. Time to work, play and whatever. I have a full-time day job, and I write in the mornings, at lunch, and most evenings. Which can be exhausting. </div>
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If only I didn't need to sleep. If sleep was optional, and my body and mind wouldn't suffer from opting out, imagine how productive I would be. It would be awesome.</div>
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But this would only be truly beneficial to me if the rest of the world still had to catch their Zs. Otherwise, people would work longer hours, produce more, expect more - in short, I'd be in the exact same position I'm in now.</div>
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Are you starting to understand how much I overthink things?</div>
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What I'm trying to say in a circular, of-beat way, is that I am a creative prisoner. I have so many ideas, so many interests and curiosities, and only so many hours in the day. I write on a small laptop and I'm not fussy about time or place. I'll cheerfully tap away on the train, in the car (whilst parked, of course - don't imagine any stop light sentences). If I can snag fifteen minutes, I'll knock out as many words as I can.</div>
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It's a brilliant, albeit exasperating position to be in. Whilst I may wish to write all the time, and get frustrated because I can't - I would rather that than the alternative. I just can't imagine suffering writer's block. Not now. Not for a long time. I have too much to say.</div>
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And because my characters are screaming at me, I'm going to wrap up my first blog post and return to them.</div>
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If you're a writer, how to you find or make time to write? Have you trained yourself to write on command, or do you just hope the words will come when you find yourself in front of your computer?<br />
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<span style="color: black;">Connect with me on </span><a href="https://twitter.com/EliseKAckers" style="color: black;" target="_blank">Twitter</a><span style="color: black;">, </span><a href="http://www.facebook.com/pages/Elise-K-Ackers/145929782088997" style="color: black;" target="_blank">Facebook</a><span style="color: black;"> and </span><a href="http://www.elisekackers.net/" style="color: black;" target="_blank">Website</a><span style="color: black;">.</span></span>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00089361440943581487noreply@blogger.com0Melbourne VIC, Australia-37.814107 144.96327999999994-38.6164545 143.67238649999993 -37.0117595 146.25417349999995