Elaine Violette 
www.elaineviolette.com
Regal Reward

What is Regal Reward about?
     After a successful night of thievery, York Blackstone finds Lady Marielle Henley alone and unprotected in the woods surrounding her father's estate. He takes her to his hideaway and plans to profit from her rebellion. That is, until he realizes that she is betrothed to the son of his arch enemy, the man who falsely accused his father of treason and caused his once illustrious family's ruin. Marielle's desire for escape turns to passion for her captor while York's need to restore his father's good name, must take precedence over his feelings for the beautiful Miss Henley. While their passion for each other simmers, Lord Craymore realizes that the sons of the man he destroyed have surfaced and are out to ruin him. He will use any means possible to keep the estate and titles he's gained through his villainy.

What do you think readers will enjoy most about it?
     I hope that readers will enjoy the suspense created by York's obsession to clear his father's name as well as Marielle and York's passionate natures that bring them together and as easily tear them apart. The page-turner is not free of humor created by the indefatigable Aunt Cornelia who refuses to accept defeat and has her own plan to bring the two stubborn lovers together.

What inspired you to write Regency romance?
     I write what I love to read. The enjoyment over the years of reading historical romances that have a bit of treachery along with heated passion have given me many moments of pleasure in my very busy world.

What is the most interesting thing you’ve ever done?
     Raising my children has never been dull. Through their tough teenage years, I was impelled to begin a teen center in our hometown and have been proud to see it grow and develop for the last 17 years and continue in operation today.

If you could be another person for a month, who would you be?
     I must admit, I've had a secret desire to have a career similar to Barbara Walters where I'd have the opportunity to interview famous people. I love to hear what inspires others to succeed in their life dreams and the passion behind their work. So, today, perhaps, Oprah Winfrey or another respected talk show host who has that opportunity.

What do you like to do with your free time?
     Write! I can lose myself in my writing. I also enjoy a hearty walk, sketching, and when the weather is warm, getting on the ocean in my kayak. These are enjoyments when I'm alone. I wouldn't want to exclude time with my loved ones, which always comes first in my heart.

Who do you think is the most dashing man who ever lived and why?
     Oh, this is a hard one. There are so many! I still love the movie legends in my mother's era. The romantic leads in the old black and white movies had a special aura of romantic heroism that is missing today.

Tell us about your first love.
     My first love was actually a skinny, bespectacled and shy neighborhood boy whose first sign to me of his interest was drawing a heart with our names in it. It's a sweet memory.

What is your idea of a romantic date?
     Dressing up for a date with my sweetheart, Drew, since he does all the little things that are really big in my eyes like holding the door for me, helping me with my coat, treating me to a lovely dinner, walking with me in the moonlight on the beach, sharing a soothing glass of wine, cuddling, and enjoying whatever comes next.

Where is your favorite place to spend time?
     Walking the beach, which is less than a quarter mile from my home, in the morning when the egrets and blue herons are nesting, in the afternoon when the seagulls are swooping for crumbs on the beach, in the evenings when the sounds of the ocean are soothing and the sun in settling down for the night.

Vicky Burkholder
www.vickyburkholder.com
Akashan'te

What is Akashan'te about?
     It is the story of a young woman with mystical powers that she doesn't understand, the evil that follows her in order to control her, and the love of one man who will help her find her true destiny.

What inspired you to write it?
     A love of a good high fantasy story - but wanting one in which a female is the protagonist instead of a male.
 
What do you think readers will enjoy most about it?
     How this young woman overcomes assassins, strange powers, and the ultimate evil with courage and wisdom, and grows as a person.

What do you enjoy doing in your spare time?
     Reading, cooking, taking walks with my hubby.

What’s the most interesting thing you’ve ever done?
     When I was a radio DJ for my college station. Understand that this was a long time ago and I was the first female DJ allowed to have a show. At that, I wasn't permitted to do anything other than "dinner" music (think Muzak) because girls weren't good enough to do top 40. Took us two years, but we showed them. :)

Who’s the most dashing man who ever lived?
     Wow. You don't ask easy questions do you? My tastes have changed over the years. Let's see - Viggo Mortensen. Pierce Brosnan. Harrison Ford. Johnny Depp. Orlando Bloom. Hugh Jackman. Denzel Washington. 

Who do you admire most and why?
     Jimmy Carter because of all his work with Habitat for Humanity and his quiet strength. Actually I admire all those who volunteer either with Habitat, or in soup kitchens or in areas where need is great and resources are nonexistent.

Tell us about your first love.
     Puppy love? That would be my high school beau. A renaissance man who loved music and art but also physics and math. True love? My hubby of 33 years. We've weathered the storms and he supports me as nobody else would. We talk about everything and laugh and truly enjoy each other's company. He is my life and my love for all time.

If you could be someone else for a month, who would you be and why?
     J.K. Rawlings—I'd love to have her writing contracts! Or Bill Gates—with all that money, I wouldn't have to worry about bills and would be able to help so many other people who are in need. 

Terry Odell
www.terryodell.com
Finding Sarah

What is Finding Sarah about?
     Self discovery. For her whole life, Sarah has been someone else's appendage—a daughter, sweetheart, wife. Now, 15 months after her husband dies, in her quest to discover Just Plain Sarah, she's been overcompensating. As she struggles to keep her business alive, she has to learn that strength doesn't mean refusing help.

     And Randy, the consummate cop, has to learn that he can't let guilt rule his life. That being the best cop in town isn't the same as being happy. When he meets Sarah, he starts crossing professional boundaries, and has to face the fact that his cop skills might not be good enough to save her.

What inspired you to write it?
     The short answer—to see if I could write a full-length novel with original characters. I'd been writing fan fiction where the basic characters are already well established. I joined a writing group online, and one of their prompts was to write a hook, no more than 250 words. I think mine was 118 words, and everyone said they couldn't wait to find out what happened next. Neither could I, so I just started writing. For about nine months, and 143,000 words! I knew absolutely nothing about constructing a novel. The longer answer—I wanted to see if I could write a full-length novel with original characters. I knew I wanted to see how an ordinary woman refused to give up, no matter what setbacks came at her, and I fell in love with both the characters and the process. I cried the night I typed "the end." It was worse than post-partum depression.

What do you think readers will enjoy most about it?
     I think—I hope—that they will care about Sarah and Randy. She's a woman, struggling to keep her business alive after her husband dies. She's lost almost everything else she cared about, and no way is she going to lose her shop. She'll live on Ramen noodle soup and sell all her furniture if she has to. Randy is coming to grips with finding life has meaning beyond his work. These aren't kick-ass super-heroes. They're normal, everyday people who use real-life skills to solve their problems, and sometimes the choices they make aren't the smartest ones, but they deal with the consequences of their choices and move on. Of course, there's a mystery to solve, plus a little life-or-death suspense, not to mention a romance, so I hope there's something everyone will enjoy.

What do you enjoy doing in your spare time?
     More than anything, reading. Thinking up plots. Trying to get my characters to leave me alone for a while. I used to do a lot of needlepoint, but I ran out of wall space. I also volunteer for the Adult Literacy League in Orlando, training new tutors. I used to do a lot of photography—black and white, which has more or less disappeared in the wake of digital cameras.

What’s the most interesting thing you’ve ever done?
     Probably the most out of character thing for me was climbing Ayers Rock in Australia. I'd always dreamed of going to Australia, but hiking has never been on my top 10 list of ways to spend a day, and it was a rugged climb. We started well before sunrise, which is probably the only reason I did it—if I'd seen what the climb looked like, I'd have stayed on the bus. As it was, I followed my husband up to the end of Chicken Ridge, and then was too scared to go back down alone, so I stuck with him to the summit.

Who’s the most dashing man who ever lived?
     I had to go to the dictionary for this one, to confirm "dashing." According to Dictionary.com's first definition, it's energetic and spirited; lively. Avoiding the cliché of movie/television celebrities, because we really don't know them outside of the characters they portray, and those characters don't fit the "ever lived" restriction of the question. Sorry, Sean Connery and Harrison Ford. Since the question doesn't say anything about choosing someone familiar to the rest of the world, I'm going to go with my junior high school science teacher, Mr. Webster. The man was a boundless source of energy, and instilled a curiosity about the world that is with me today. He did the impossible—enraptured students with a love of learning. He wasn't bad-looking, either.

Whom do you admire most and why?
     Any good, dedicated teacher. The restrictions of today's society make their jobs a true challenge. As an individual, I have great admiration for an author I met at a conference—one I attended primarily to meet him. I first met Christopher Whitcomb at (of course) the bar, where mystery writers hang out at conferences, when I asked him to autograph his book. The man's friendly, open nature and terrific sense of humor were in such contrast to the reality of his life as a sniper for the FBI's Hostage Rescue Team, who was on duty at Waco and Ruby Ridge. The willingness to put one’s life on the line for something one believes in is definitely something I admire.

Tell us about your first love.
     Let's see—my parents and my husband are going to read this, right? And maybe my kids? I suppose the Range Rider or Mr. Spock or Illya Kuryakin don't count. I came of age in the 1960s—you know, make love, not war. Seriously—my first real love is the man I've been married to for the last 37 years. Everything else was infatuation, even if I didn't know it at the time. I was the class nerd from grade school on, so I didn't have a lot of reciprocated infatuations.

If you could be someone else for a month, who would you be and why?
     Now, does this mean I'd be that person, or that I could bring my own values and goals with me? The altruistic part of me says I should wish to be someone with enough money and power to cure cancer, or end world hunger, or bring peace to the planet. But I don't think that's possible. Bottom line, I've lived long enough to be comfortable in my own skin, and while eavesdropping on the rich and famous might be interesting, I like my life with its ups and downs just fine. It might be fun to be Mrs. Sean Connery or Mrs. Harrison Ford for a month, though.

Kate Dolan
www.katedolan.com
A Certain Want of Reason

What is A Certain Want of Reason about?
     It is the story of a young man who has been engaged to a girl he hates for 20 years. He's run out of decent ideas for ways to end the engagement and so has decided to pretend he's crazy so the girl will break the engagement instead. While he's pretending to be crazy, he meets a young woman who has spent her life caring for her brother and sister who really are crazy. She's attracted to him (which scares her) but is not at all pleased when she learns what he's up to.

What inspired you to write it?
     I wanted to try writing a traditional Regency romance since I love Jane Austen's books so much. Then something reminded me of Arsenic and Old Lace and I got this idea of a heroine with a crazy brother who was always getting into trouble.

What do you think readers will enjoy most about it?
     It's very fast paced, with a lot of witty and/or silly dialogue.

What do you enjoy doing in your spare time?
     One of my favorite hobbies is learning about history through living history programs. I like visiting 18th and 19th century historical sites and talking with their interpreters and I also enjoy volunteering as an 18th century interpreter at a local site and camping at reenactment events. The best part is when I can come up with thing that grosses out kids, because it happens unexpectedly. At one event, I was washing my hair with homemade soap and rinsing it with vinegar and water. They thought this was absolutely disgusting.

What’s the most interesting thing you’ve ever done?
     Other than washing my hair outside in a bowl with a crowd of fifth graders as an audience? Let's see ... what is interesting for me to do is not necessarily interesting for anyone to read about. I served as an intern in the Irish parliament in Dublin while I was in college, so that was a unique experience. Ireland is the most beautiful country I could imagine and my mother practically had to drag me away kicking and screaming at the end of the semester.

Who’s the most dashing man who ever lived?
     Thomas Cochrane. He was the real naval hero that O'Brien and Forrester used as the model for the Jack Aubrey and Horatio Hornblower characters. He accomplished amazing feats at sea and inspired the utmost confidence and loyalty from his men. He also tried to reform corruption in the system through political means. He was very dashing. Might have been damned hard to live with, though, and I don't know how much time he and his wife actually spent together.

Who do you admire most and why?
     I admire a woman at my church who is probably my opposite. She is never late, always reliable and committed to serving others, yet she knows her limits and doesn't take on more than she can handle. She's also fun, caring and has a great sense of humor. She puts her kids and service to others first. Meanwhile, I leave my kids mired in front of the TV if I'm working on a scene, or answering email, or ...

Tell us about your first love.
     Gotta make sure my husband isn't reading over my shoulder ... In high school, I fell in love with a gorgeous guy who was two years ahead of me and had a totally different set of friends. (He was 6'4'' looked like a young Mel Gibson and had the most beautiful blue eyes). We had pretty much nothing in common, as I look back on it. We'd go out to the park or the beach and have a great time just talking and being together, but much of the time, we wanted to do stuff with our friends, and our friends were completely different. His jock friends had graduated high school and had no interest in my silly high school theater crowd. (He did come to see me in the musical "Kiss Me, Kate" and when it was over, he held up the program as an order). We broke up for several months, didn't see each other, and then met again at a party on New Year's eve. Then we were back together for a few months before things fell apart again. Right before I left for college, I went to his house to return a heart-shaped necklace that he had given me for Valentine's Day. He told me to keep it. I did. 

     We met once or twice by accident after that, and he always said he'd call me, but he never did. I talked to him once on the phone. And that's it. I sometimes wonder what he looks like now, whether he's happy with the traditional suburban life that he said he always wanted and I said I thought would be awful. Now I live happily in a house in the suburbs with two kids, too. 

If you could be someone else for a month, who would you be and why?
     I wouldn't want to be anyone else for a month because I love my children and no one else on earth gets to be their mom!!!! I would definitely change bank accounts with someone else for a month, though.

Sometimes it's the hard road that leads to the best rewards
By Lise Fuller

     After six years with an abusive husband, I divorced him. But that wasn’t the end of my struggle. I was 24 with no income, no education and three children to raise, and my nerves stood at the breaking point. The turmoil in my early adult life conditioned me to look on the dark side. When things were joyous, I thought the time only a momentary pause in the dirge of my life. However, one thing I knew—every morning I had three beautiful faces shining up at me. No matter how depressed or callous I got, giving up on making a good and happy life for them was not an option. Those kids depended on me and, God knows, I needed them.

     Years passed. Struggles came and went. My self-esteem, which had been in the toilet, rose. My daughter was 15 and beautiful, my two sons, handsome, strong and prepubescent. I’d been without a life-partner for nine years. The realization hit that I didn’t really want to be alone after the kids left home. Marriage was out of the question but a close companion would certainly do.

     So it happened one night that I made this small prayer. Now, I was never a religious person, but being raised in a Christian home, I had always believed the power of faith in a greater being could transform one’s situation. Thus, when I had an opportunity to date someone new, I wanted help to see if this could be “the one”. Sitting alone, I looked up and said this prayer—“God, if something with this guy is supposed to happen then let it. But if not, Lord, please send someone by because I’m really lousy at picking out men.”

     We lived in a small house in the rural tobacco fields of North Carolina. Only someone who’d been led there could find the place. Now, you may think that’s an odd request for God but under the circumstances, I thought it justified. What did I know? Throughout my adulthood, I’d entertained one bad relationship after another. But after I said the prayer, I slept more soundly than I had in months.

     Strange I didn’t think about that request for several days. Not until I came home and found my daughter laughing over the telephone. She told me a 21-year-old guy wanted to take me out. My first comment was something like, “Yeah, right.” Then she told the caller I would go. Can you imagine? I chased her to get the phone until I realized I’d never catch her. Out of breath, I simply told her that if he wanted to take me out, he’d have to call me himself.

     She relayed my message to her caller, an older teen she’d known in school who’d graduated. The man, now in the 82nd Airborne at Fort Bragg, was part of a group who’d come by the house the previous Saturday. I, of course, had looked stupendous in my rumpled white gee as I had just come from participating in a karate demonstration. I’d been in the yard and remembered a black Blazer pulling up—tinted windows, of course. What else for a young Army guy? I stood talking to my neighbor in the afternoon sun as my daughter ran up. After telling her there was no way she was going out with anyone I didn’t know, especially an adult male, I dismissed the situation entirely. I didn’t even know what these men looked like much less know who they were—remember, tinted windows.

     But apparently, my ardent suitor didn’t shrug off the incident off. My stunning image, messed-up hair and all, had caught the eye of this younger man. A few days later, a gentleman called from out of the blue.

     “Hello?” I’d answered the annoying ring.

     “Hi, this is Tom Fuller.”

     Hmm, a deep voice. “Tom, who?” I asked, perplexed.

     “Er, ah ...” The pitch of his voice went a mite higher. “The guy your daughter talked to you about?”

     “Oh.” I paused, really taken back. I couldn’t believe the man had really called. “Do you know how old I am?”

     “Yeah.” His voice deepened again. “So, you wanna go dancing Friday?”

     “Eh, no.”

      He kept talking. At some point, I figured he wouldn’t stop until I agreed. Then that crazy prayer came into my head. “Lord, please send someone by because I’m really lousy at picking out men ...” Could it be?

     Naw. Then I rethought the situation. If this was the guy I’d asked for, now wasn’t the time to say no. After all, I hadn’t been very specific. Didn’t ask for rich. Didn’t ask for mature. Didn’t even ask for good-looking. And the only way to find out if he was the one was to meet him. I interrupted. “How about dinner and a movie?”

     “Great!” he answered.

      I somehow heard his relief. We set the time. He asked how to dress. “Casual,” I said. After saying our good-byes and hanging up, I went back to whatever I was doing and forgot about any date.

     The next few days came and went. Then the day came. While I got ready, my eldest son, a wise-in-the-ways-of-the-world 13-year-old, got antsy. “Mom,” he told me, “if this guy has a van, you can’t go.”

     “Huh?” I replied. What the heck did my 13-year-old know about vans? “I’ll be fine,” I told him.

      He sighed and went with his younger brother to stare out the den window.

     Some minutes later, my concerned son ran to the bathroom, where I was applying my makeup. “Mom! Mom! He has a van! He has a vaaannnnnn!”

     After rolling my eyes, I held up my hand. “It’ll be fine. You’ll see.”

     He frowned and walked away as the doorbell rang. I checked my watch. Exactly six o’clock, right on time.

     Remember, I didn’t have a clue as to what this man looked like. I wore some nice jeans and a red sweater. I’d curled my hair and put on makeup, red lips and all. After approving of my reflection in the mirror, I strolled out. In our small ranch, you had to go through the kitchen to get to the den. The narrow doorway between the two afforded me a view of my daughter sitting on the couch—laughing. I stepped closer. My two sons were off to the right, arms crossed, a menacing look etched on their faces. Taking note, I stepped to the doorway and glanced at my date. There stood a tall, skinny, baby-faced guy in tennis shoes, ripped jeans, a hospital scrub shirt, a calf-length black leather jacket, no hair and a dangling feather earring. Stunned, my first thought was, Oh, my God, what have I gotten myself into?

     “Ready?” he asked, his voice warm.

     “Er, yeah?” I said, not really sure at all.

     As we left, I think my daughter fell on the floor, her belly aching with laughter.

     Outside, he held the car door for me. Nice, I thought. And after we got going, it didn’t take long for me to get to know him. Tom was, and is today, an avid talker. He especially ran on when he got nervous. He was nervous now. And he talked.

     A natural introvert, I never could get the hang of what to say on a first date, so Tom’s ability to speak was advantageous. I was glad we were going to a movie. That way I wouldn’t have to say much. Watching him talk, I thought, not much at all.

     When we arrived at the restaurant, Tom asked for a beer. He reddened when the waitress carded him. Yes, he was 21. Just barely. Good thing to know. I shrugged off his embarrassment, pretending not to notice, then laughed as he told me about his sergeants. Tom was a private first class. He’d dropped out of college to join the Army. But before he’d made the two-hour trip to see me, his sergeants had spent a lot of time trying to tell him how to take out an older woman. He’d told them, “Guys, when I get my pampers off ...” I don’t remember now exactly what else he said, but the guy was funny. And I was intrigued.

     But I had to get this age thing in the open. Fixing my elbows on the table, I asked, “Do you know how old I am?”

     “Yeah.” He said.

     “How old?” I asked.

     “Thirty-two.”

     I leaned over the table. “I’m 33.” I lunged closer. “Almost 34.” I was serious. How could a guy this young be interested in me? This was important. I wanted things clear upfront.

     He kinda grinned. “Okay.” He kept talking.

     Stunned, I listened as he asked for another beer. He looked disgusted when a different waitress asked for his ID. She giggled. “Does this happen all the time?”

     “I don’t know,” I replied in earnest. “We’ve never been out before.”

     “Oh!” Her face beamed. She gave us the best service.

     The whole night went like that. One funny thing after another. I had the best time I’d ever had in my whole adult life. I certainly had never laughed so hard before. Thus when my then unknown future husband asked in his cocky 82nd Airborne way, his head tilted, confidence spread over his entire being, “So, would you like to do it again?” Of course, I said, “yes.”

     And I meant it.

     I figured this might go on for a few dates then he’d go away.

     I never did get him to leave. Every free weekend, he came to Winston-Salem. He interacted with the kids like I would have expected a step-dad to do. And he did it without my asking. I watched, looked for telltale signs of discontent. Never saw any. The kids loved him. He had a way of looking at things that made everything right.

     Then the tragedy I knew would happen came. We’d been dating for several months when the onus of the first Gulf War hit. Within days, he’d shipped out. The months crawled by.

     Communication from the front was spotty at best. I realized how much I missed him. I loved him. What could I do? Before he left, he’d promised me he wouldn’t die. I took him at his word. Told him I’d kick his backside if he did. He only laughed and told me he loved me.

     Then he was gone.

     The letters between us were written frequently, but delivery left much to be desired. There was no guarantee when or how a soldier would get his mail. A letter written today could get there in a week; whereas one written the week before would get there a month later. You can imagine the how funny some of these letters could be, since the things written about could be detailed in the last letter written, but received before the subject was even brought up. But we managed. And our relationship grew.

     Months later, the war wound down. Sometime in mid-March, I got a call in the middle of the night.

     “Hello?” I said, groggy, and glanced at the clock. One-thirty something a.m.

     “Hi.” It was a man. “You don’t know me, but I operate a ham radio.”

     “You do?” I asked, my mind still numb.

     “Yeah, I have a call from a ...” He paused. “Tom Fuller. You want to talk to him?”

     I bolted straight up. “Yes!”

     “Hold on.” The line quieted for a moment. Then he came back on. “Remember, when you’re finished talking, you have to say ‘over’ so that the operators down the line know to flip the switch. We’re connected from ship to ship over the ocean then to shore so there’s a lot of switching to be done.”

     “Okay,” I said, and held my breath. This would be the first time I’d heard his voice in a long time.

     “Remember, say ‘over’ when you’re finished,” the man reminded.

     “I’ll remember,” I said.

     Then Tom came on the phone. I could barely understand him, the connection was so bad, and I knew it was daylight in the desert where he was—whichever country that was. I wouldn’t know it was Iraq until he came back.

     But I heard his voice, and if I didn’t get anything else, at the moment, that was enough.

     “I can’t understand you,” I said. “Over.”

     Tom tried again.

     “I love you,” I said. “I still can’t hear what you’re saying. Over.”

     Another incoherent stream but I knew the sound of Tom’s voice. It was him.

     “I can’t make out what he’s saying,” I told the radioman.

     “He’s saying something about June.”

     My body trembled. I knew what Tom said. He wanted to marry me. He’d said as much before he left. Of course, at the time, I’d had a wait and see approach to this new wrinkle in our relationship. He was going to war. I hadn’t even met his parents and he hadn’t met mine. What was he thinking?

     But none of this mattered. I wanted him in my life. “Yes, yes, yes!” I yelled.

     “Er ...,” the guy on the other line said, “you need to say ‘over.’”

     “Over!” I commanded.

     I heard Tom laugh. Magic, I thought.

     No, prayer, I remembered.

     When he returned, we married. We’ve been together for 16 years, been married for 14 with another fantastic boy in addition to the first three of our children. When the group, Rascal Flats, sings “God bless the broken road that led me straight to you,” I know what they mean. I had a broken life and God took care of it. All I needed to do was ask, tell him that I was ready for his will. Now, around 50, a bit gray with a few more experience lines on my face, I’m still beautiful to my husband. And he tells me always how incredible I am and how glad he is that I’m in his life. He loves me.

     And me? I’m still awed by the power of that simple prayer. And grateful of my blessings.

Lise Fuller’s latest Cerridwen release is Cutting Loose. To find out more about her other books, visit http://www.cerridwenpress.com/AuthorsBooks.asp?AuthorCode=LFul