This month, I’m holding a little countdown to Screaming Orgasm’s release by sharing the first five pages of the first three books in the Cocktales series. Screaming Orgasm, the last book, will release on May 29. The past two weeks, I featured Party Naked and Screwdriver. Next up…Bachelor’s Bait!
Sophie Kennedy dashed out of the manicurist’s shop feeling like a jackass. She was barefoot with cotton stuffed between each of her toes, thanks to her unfinished pedicure. She glanced left then right, trying to recall which direction Patricia Butler– Baines had gone.
“No good deed goes unpunished,” she muttered under her breath, mentally flipping a coin and heading to the right. She lifted her iPhone and awkwardly tried to find Patricia’s name in her list of contacts. God knew it would be an easier task if she wasn’t running with a freaking toy poodle named Pookie in the bag hanging over her shoulder.
Patricia, one of the most annoying women in the world, had spotted her while Sophie was getting the pedicure. Sophie had just dipped her feet into the cool soaking solution and closed her eyes, grateful for a few minutes of relaxing quiet. That quiet had lasted exactly twenty-four seconds before Patricia burst into the shop. She’d made a beeline straight for Sophie, giving her an earful about everything that was going wrong with the huge birthday bash Patricia was throwing for herself.
Sophie had listened with a sympathetic ear—since she certainly couldn’t get a word in edgewise—to Patricia’s ridiculously long tale of woe. The highlights included the caterer quitting at the last minute (who could blame him), the rental company daring to deliver a tent that wasn’t completely pristine white (apparently there were two dark smudges on one hem) and the florist failing to find hydrangeas that exactly matched the color of Patricia’s eyes.
Sweet Jesus. Really?
Desperate for silence, Sophie had foolishly agreed to speak to another caterer on Patricia’s behalf. She’d suggested someone try soap and water to get the smudges out of the tent. Finally, she assured the woman that nature could never hope to capture the beauty of her eyes and it was foolish to even try to find flowers that matched. As Sophie expected, Patricia’s vanity was sufficiently stroked by the compliment. Not that it mattered to Sophie. She was just hoping to give the florist a break from the insanity.
Patricia, appeased, left with as much fanfare as she’d entered, waving to acquaintances and oohing and aahing loudly over some new shade of nail polish, assuming everyone in the place would want to know her opinion. It wasn’t until the pedicurist came over, dried Sophie’s feet and began to apply the polish that they noticed Pookie whimpering in her case.
“That dog needs to pee,” the woman stated matter-of-factly. Sophie agreed.
“You’d better find the lady and give her back her dog.”
So now Sophie was rushing barefoot down the sidewalk with a freaking dog in a purse, trying to text Patricia, the last person on Earth she wanted to see for even three more seconds today.
She picked up her pace when she thought she saw the back of Patricia’s blonde head turning a corner ahead. Sophie was texting the word “wait” when she was knocked roughly off balance.
She juggled her cell phone for a few seconds before giving up as Pookie began sliding off her shoulder. The man she’d collided with dropped the files he’d been carrying, papers flying everywhere. His phone hit the sidewalk next to hers.
“Shit!” they cried in unison.
Sophie hastily knelt to help him save the papers as a breeze threatened to blow them all away.
“Hasn’t anyone ever told you about the dangers of texting and walking?” he asked angrily .
Sophie was in no mood to be chastised by anyone. “Hasn’t anyone ever told you to
look both ways before crossing the street?”
“This is a sidewalk.”
“Same difference.” She stuffed the papers she’d recovered into a file folder. “Dammit,” she said as she handed it to him.
“What’s wrong?” he asked.
“I broke a nail.” She hadn’t even paid for the freaking manicure yet.
“Sorry to hear that, princess.”
His sardonic tone was the last straw.
Sophie narrowed her eyes. “Is sarcasm your first language or are you bilingual?”
Before the man could answer, Pookie wiggled free from the case, walked toward the building the man had just exited, lifted her leg and peed.
Sophie giggled when the man scowled. “Your dog is pissing on my office door.”
She shrugged. “So sue me.”
The man’s face instantly morphed into a grin Sophie didn’t trust. He raised his finger, pointing to the sign on the window.
Market Street Free Legal Aid, Marc Garrett, Attorney at Law.
Sophie grabbed her phone, stuffing it in her back jeans pocket as she stood. Her manicure was ruined, her relaxing pedicure over and she still had the damn dog in her possession. She returned his smile as she picked up Pookie and returned her to the case. “My name is Patricia Butler–Baines. Do your worst.”
“Don’t tempt me,” he said before she could get out of earshot.
Turning, she headed toward The Nail Gallery without a backward glance. The man—Marc, she assumed—didn’t bother to follow her.
She tried to ignore the odd part of her that was strangely disappointed. Asshole or not, he was pretty freaking hot. She blew out a long breath and shook off the feeling. The guy was a prick and chances were good she’d never see him again.
When she returned to the shop, she opened the door to discover Patricia waiting for her.
“Pookie!” Patricia cried, acting as if Sophie had kidnapped the silly mutt. Pookie barked as she was returned to her owner. Patricia, in true dramatic fashion, snuggled and kissed the dog as though they’d been separated for years rather than twenty minutes.
The mani-pedi Sophie had allotted sixty minutes for actually ate up two hours of her afternoon, since she’d essentially had to start over. By the time she dragged herself into Books and Brew for work, she was done in.
“You’re late,” Stephanie called out from behind the bar.
“Bite me.” Sophie walked straight to the storeroom to stash her purse. She was part owner of the bookstore-slash-bar with her three best friends, Stephanie, Jordan and Jayne. They were closer than sisters. Therefore the need to mince words and pretend to play nice had disappeared long ago.
“I tried to call you a couple times,” Stephanie said while Sophie grabbed an apron.
Sophie frowned and reached into her pocket to pull out her cell. “My phone never rang.”
“I know. That’s because you currently don’t have your phone.”
The second Sophie saw it she knew Stephanie was telling the truth. She’d picked up
the asshole’s phone instead of her own. “Shit.”
“That’s what the guy who answered your phone said. Mr. Garrett is coming by tonight to make the switch with you.”
“You told him where to find me?”
Stephanie frowned. “I figured you’d want your phone back. Who is this guy? And why did you tell him your name is Patricia Butt–Bitch?” Stephanie never called Patricia by her given name.
Sophie sighed. “Nobody. Just some guy I ran into on the sidewalk.”
“He sounded nice enough to me, though a bit frustrated with the phone mix-up. What’s his problem? Nerdy? Annoying?”
“Asshole,” Sophie supplied easily, though she wasn’t sure it was fair to keep labeling him as such, given they’d only talked a couple of minutes at most.
“Ah. If you want to hide in the back when he gets here, I can make the swap for you. Unfortunately, I don’t know exactly what time he’s coming. Said something about stopping by after a meeting with a judge. You think he’s in trouble with the law? Wonder what he did.”
“He’s a free-aid lawyer. His office is near The Nail Gallery.”
“Oh. Well, he can’t be all bad then, can he? I mean, rather than using his law degree to make a bundle of cash, he’s putting his talents to use to help the less fortunate. Jared said those free legal aid clinics do some really good things for domestic violence victims and the community as a whole.”
Stephanie, who served as the bartender at Books and Brew, had recently fallen head over heels for Jared, a local cop. The woman who’d always sworn off relationships had been bitten hard by the love bug, and Sophie couldn’t be happier for her.
Sophie found her first impression of Marc wavering in the face of Stephanie’s argument. Before she could admit it, the phone in her hand started ringing. Justin Timberlake’s SNL song Dick in a Box sounded loud enough that everyone in the place turned to look at her, then laugh.
“Ugh,” she groaned. “See?” She gestured to the phone as Stephanie grinned widely. “Asshole.”
Sophie answered the phone when she saw her own cell number on the screen. “Dick in a Box? Really? What’s wrong with you?”
“What we see depends mainly on what we look for.” – John Lubbock
“Aren’t you coming?” she asked Gunner.
Gunner shook his head. “No. I’m going to wait here for the bomb squad. One of my friends in the Boston office is coming as well. He’s going to open an investigation and I need to give him some information. I suspect he’ll want to talk to you as well, but I’ll hold him off until tomorrow.”
Price appreciated Gunner’s consideration. He could see Denise did too.
Gunner grasped her hand and kissed her palm. Price expected some of the jealousy he’d experienced during the ceremony to return, but it didn’t. Instead, he felt a spark of arousal at the sight of Gunner touching their woman.
“We’re going to put all of this behind us tonight. Focus on the positive stuff that happened today,” Gunner promised her.
Denise looked down, her confidence fading. “You think this is positive? The three of us?”
Gunner grinned. “Hell yeah. Don’t you?”
She shrugged and glanced toward the open door of the car. Price had placed himself far enough away that he was hidden in the shadows but still able to see her. “I guess so. I mean—” she lowered her voice and Price found himself bending forward to hear, “—I don’t think Price is attracted to me. You know, that way. I was wondering if…”
Her words drifted away, but he’d heard enough. They went through him like a knife.
“You want to know if I’m sexually attracted to you?” Gunner asked.
“I want you so bad it hurts.” Gunner took their still-linked hands and rubbed her fingers along his chest. “Soon I’ll show you exactly how much.”
Deni’s eyes widened. “I’m scared,” she whispered.
Gunner kissed her, that same sweet meeting of lips they’d shared back at the library. Price knew he’d never be able to offer her the same. His desire for her had risen to ridiculous levels, his cock so hard he feared he’d split the seam in his dress pants. What he felt for the little innocent was far from tame. It was primal, wild, ready to be unleashed.
He’d show Denise Parker exactly how attracted he was to her.
“Go to the hotel with Price and take a nice long, hot shower. When I get there, we’ll order room service and start figuring things out. Okay?”
Denise nodded and then climbed into the car. Gunner leaned forward, his gaze capturing Price’s.
“Don’t start without me, you two.” Though his words were spoken in an easy, friendly tone, Price didn’t miss the warning on the man’s face.
“We’re a threesome,” Price said, issuing his own reminder. “Remember?”
Gunner nodded once and then shut the door.
Want more snippets?
This month, I’m holding a little countdown to Screaming Orgasm’s release by sharing the first five pages of the first three books in the Cocktales series. Screaming Orgasm, the last book, will release on May 29. Last week, I featured Party Naked. This week…it’s Screwdriver time!
GLaw: So it’s really that hot?
JLan: You have no idea. My sweat is sweating.
GLaw: Wouldn’t mind seeing that trick.
JLan: LOL. Help!
GLaw: I’ll make a couple calls. In the meantime, maybe B&B could adopt a clothing-optional policy.
JLan: You’re only saying that because you want to see Sophie topless.
GLaw: No comment.
JLan: What? So unlike you to plead the Fifth. How was your date last night?
JLan: Thought you liked this woman?
GLaw: I did. First couple of dates. Then we decided to stop screwing and start talking. It went downhill fast.
JLan: Gross. You’re a pig. Remind me again. Why are we friends?
GLaw: You find me irresistible.
JLan: No comment.
GLaw: Got a meeting in ten. Doing lunch again next week?
JLan: Of course. Every Monday.
GLaw: Keep cool, Jordy. And let me know if you take me up on the topless idea.
JLan: Go to your meeting.
GLaw: LOL. Later.
Jordan Lance signed off IM then stared at her screen saver. It was a picture of her and Gabriel taken at an impromptu picnic Stephanie had thrown in May to celebrate spring and the return of warm weather. Jayne had caught them unaware as they chatted, sitting in lawn chairs. Neither of them faced the camera and they weren’t even smiling, but it was still Jordan’s favorite picture. Not because it was a particularly good shot of her, but because of the expression on Gabriel’s face.
For that brief moment in time, he was completely focused on her. His gaze was intent, interested and maybe even attracted.
She scoffed. Yeah, right. Attracted. In your dreams, Jordan.
She clicked on an Excel spreadsheet and decided it was time to focus on work and real life.
Unfortunately, her distraction was too strong.
In my dreams.
She gave in to the inevitable and closed her eyes.
“Do that again. Oh yeah. Right there. God, right there.”
She looked down at the top of his head, seeing only the sea of chestnut hair. He was currently driving her to madness, doing all sorts of beautiful things between her legs. She thrashed against her desk chair, throwing her head back.
His tongue flicked against her clit once more and she squealed with delight, more moisture flooding her already soaked pussy. A trickle of sweat ran down the side of her face, but she didn’t bother to flick it away. She could take the heat in stride when it felt this damn good.
She reached out, ran her fingers through his thick, soft hair and let her eyes drift shut. She was so close. So fucking close.
“Please,” she whispered.
He didn’t speak. He never did. He simply walked into her office, dropped to his knees and gave her the hottest orgasms in history.
His mouth moved harder against her sensitive flesh, his teeth nipping lightly, causing the most incredible sensation. She couldn’t decide if it hurt or felt good, but she’d be damned if she’d tell him to stop.
“More,” she pleaded. His mouth wasn’t enough. It would never be enough. She needed his cock, but he held back, never offering her that last bit of paradise.
He responded to her request by slowly pushing two fingers inside her pussy.
She tightened her hands in his hair. She must be hurting him, but he never complained, never sought release. Then she realized he wasn’t sweating. Apparently, she was the only one suffering from the increase in temperature.
He was cool as a cucumber as he increased the speed, his fingers fucking her faster, deeper.
She thrust her hips toward him, unable to control the movements of her body. He had her thrashing around like a flag in a hurricane. Powerless to resist him. Putty in his hands. She needed so much more than this.
“You.” She gripped his wrist, trying to pull his hand away from her pussy. She wouldn’t be denied. Not again. While his mouth and hands did glorious things to her, she was determined that this time—today—she’d get it all. She had to. Perspiration dampened her shirt, the cotton clinging to her breasts. She was on the verge of bursting into flames but she didn’t care. She’d gladly stand on the pyre as long as he was here with her.
He remained silent, ignoring her pleas, her grip on his arm. He continued to push his thick fingers inside her, adding another to the dance. God dammit. She’d never make it. Never be able to hold on.
“I need you.” Her voice was hoarse from her cries but he didn’t respond. When he sucked her clit into his mouth, she knew it was game over.
She released his hair and her hand flew to the arm of the chair, gripping it tightly as she bucked toward him, toward his tormenting mouth, his gorgeous fingers.
“Ahhh…” She saw spots. Her body tingled from the tips of her toes to the top of her head. She imagined even her hair felt the pulse of her orgasm. Trembling, she let it consume her, take her to the peak and toss her over.
Free-falling back to earth, she wondered if there could be anything more wonderful than this.
As the sensations subsided, she kept her eyes shut, unwilling to return to reality. The image of her lover faded, then disappeared. No matter how hard she tried, Jordan couldn’t keep him with her.
“Please, Gabriel,” she whispered. “Don’t go.”
When she couldn’t ignore the truth any longer, she slowly lifted her eyelids.
A quick glance confirmed it was her own fingers that had driven her to madness. Her fantasy was over and she was alone.
“Okay,” Jordan said as she hit the bottom step, walking into the stifling humidity of Books and Brew. “I just IM’d Gabriel to tell him the AC is on the fritz.”
Stephanie, one of Jordan’s BFFs, fanned herself with a drink menu. “Good. I’m fucking dying in here.”
The bell over the front door jingled as a prospective customer walked in. The older woman paused after only one step and then glanced their way.
Jordan gave the woman an apologetic smile. “Sorry. We’re having some problems with our air-conditioning.”
The woman nodded. “Yes. I can feel that.” Turning, she left the store, obviously deciding the brutal heat wave pummeling Portland was preferable to remaining in their ovenlike business.
“Hope the repair guy gets here fast. Otherwise we may as well close up shop. That’s the third customer to walk in and right back out. Sort of pointless to stay open.” Stephanie picked up a napkin and wiped the perspiration from her forehead.
Jayne joined them at the bar and grabbed a bottle of water from the cooler behind Stephanie. “I suspect the only reason people are out shopping at all today is to find cool air in the stores. There’s no way anyone would come in here to browse. It must be pushing eighty already.”
Jordan glanced at the clock. It was barely eleven a.m. What would the store feel like by midafternoon? “Should we close? Call today a wash? Even if the repair guy does show up, chances are good he won’t get the air fixed immediately.”
Stephanie hooted. “Hell yeah! Let’s do it. I’m thinking Grant Pool.”
Jordan shook her head. “Are you nuts? It’ll be packed bumper to butt with bodies.”
Happiness is acquired by ourselves. – Aristotle
For the next three Fridays, I’ll be holding a little countdown to Screaming Orgasm’s release (pun intended) by sharing the first five pages of the first three books in the Cocktales series. Screaming Orgasm, the last book, will release on May 29. If you haven’t checked out this series yet…I’m hoping to drag you to the dark side with me. LOL.
“Goddamn, motherfucker, son of a bitch on a cheese cracker!” Stephanie Harper looked at the mass destruction around her feet and felt the overwhelming desire to smash every bottle in the damn bar.
“What was that?” Her best friend Jayne’s head popped up from where she was bent over, stocking new-release books on the shelf.
“Just me redecorating the bar area with broken glass.” Her tone betrayed the fact she was finding no humor in her clumsiness.
“Trip on the mat again?” Jayne’s question—laced with a giggle—told Stephanie her friend was finding humor in the situation.
“Yes, Miss Unhelpful. I tripped on the motherfucking mat again.”
“Uh oh. Two MFs in under a minute. You really are having a bad day.”
Stephanie took a deep breath and tried to take stock of the damage. “You can say that again. I just broke two bottles of vodka, one of Jack and a brand new Beefeater.”
Jayne approached the bar, crawling on a stool to peer over at the mess Stephanie had made. “What’s Beefeater again?”
“Gin. Jesus, Jayne. You’ve worked in this bar nearly two years now. You’d think you’d pick up some of this stuff.”
Jayne shook her head, plopping her ass down. “I work in the bookstore. You work in the bar. And I don’t like alcohol.”
Stephanie shook her head in mock disbelief, though Jayne’s distaste for the strong stuff was a well-known flaw in her friend’s character. “Yeah, well, you don’t know what you’re missing. Nothing like a splash of Beefeater with Sprite and a twist of lime in the summertime. Very refreshing.”
“Lemonade serves the same purpose. I take it the gin was important.”
“No, not really. However, the loss of that particular brand of vodka was deadly. Books and Brew isn’t gonna open at all today without it. Your Romantic Hearts book group likes their special Screwdrivers.” Stephanie moved toward the corner to grab the broom, while Jayne walked behind the bar to inspect the broken glass.
“Tell you what. I’ll clean up the mess and you can run to the liquor store for more. Maybe the drive will clear your head a bit. Not quite sure what’s thrown you out of whack, but the fresh air might do you some good.”
Stephanie gratefully relinquished the broom and dustpan, but she didn’t think a drive was going to help her escape the dark cloud she’d woken up under. “Maybe I should just say ‘screw it’ to everything, go home and crawl back in bed. Hope for better luck tomorrow.”
Her friend placed a consoling hand on Stephanie’s shoulder. “Just go get the vodka. You really don’t want me to have to man the bar.”
Stephanie imagined Jayne with her nose buried in the bartender’s guide, trying to figure out how to make a scotch on the rocks, and grinned. “True that.”
Jayne started cleaning up the shattered glass and liquid, while Stephanie grabbed some money out of the cash register to pay for the booze.
“Don’t forget to tell Jordan you took that money, and bring back a receipt. You know she goes mad when she can’t account for every penny in the cash register.”
Stephanie waved her hand briefly in response. She’d been a thorn in her accountant friend’s side since she, Jordan, Jayne and Sophie opened Books and Brew two years earlier. Owning their own business had been a shared dream for the four women since they’d graduated from college and, so far, their joint venture was a relative success. Books and Brew was a twist on the coffee shop/bookstore idea. Stephanie wasn’t a fan of coffee, but she could see the beauty in sipping a cold glass of wine while perusing the shelves for new reading material.
Because of their diverse interests, they each managed to bring something unique to the table. Jordan was using her B.S. in accounting by taking care of the store’s finances, and the information Sophie had gathered in her marketing classes was put to good use in advertising for the store. Even Jayne was applying her liberal arts education—using her knowledge of literature and history to stock the bookstore and hold weekly reading groups.
In the meantime, Stephanie was sitting on a psych degree while tending bar. A fact her mother, Beverly, managed to bring up during every single conversation they’d had since Stephanie’s graduation from college. Beverly considered her daughter’s chosen profession a stage she’d outgrow, which made Stephanie all the more determined to make the business a success.
She loved her job, using her degree in a rather unique way, and she adored the patrons of the store. People loved to unload their problems to bartenders and, while she certainly wasn’t trying to practice her profession, she liked being able to provide an ear and perhaps some words of comfort or advice. Stephanie joked she’d traded a barstool for the couch. She’d found her niche, and she refused to give all that up by caving to her mother’s constant nagging that she open a “respectable” practice and hold down a career her mother felt was brag-worthy. Apparently telling her friends at the country club that her daughter was a bartender wasn’t cutting it for good ol’ Mom.
“Okay. I’ll be back as soon as I can.” She grabbed her purse and car keys.
“Anything I should know before you get back? Expecting any deliveries? Hank coming by?” Jayne wiggled her eyebrows as she asked the last question.
“Do me a favor. Don’t mention Hank and ‘coming’ in the same sentence.”
“So he’s still driving you crazy?”
Stephanie shuddered at the mention of their beer distributor. “The guy doesn’t get it. He calls to ask me out and I say no. He calls again and I say no. You’d think after twenty-or-so calls, he’d figure it out. One moment of weakness and it’s like I’m going to be punished for life.”
“I think it was more like three moments,” Jayne teased.
“Wow. You’re a regular laugh a minute today. We should call The Daily Show and see if they’ll give you a job co-anchoring with Jon Stewart.”
“I’d love that. I think he’s hot.”
“Of course you do. You go for that brainiac type.”
Jayne didn’t deny the truth of Stephanie’s assessment. “You know, I’d like to say I know your type, but I can’t pin you down. You never seem to go for the same kind of guy twice or for longer than a month.”
“That’s because my time is too valuable to waste. And I’m a fast learner. For example, a few nights with Hank proved weightlifters are not my cup of tea.” Hank had a major self-esteem issue that manifested itself in his obsession with outward appearances. After a couple trips to the gym with him, she’d discovered the same held true for quite a few of the über-muscular men in his social circle.
“Seems sort of narrow-minded. What if the next weightlifter is cool and you never give him a chance?”
Stephanie shrugged, not wanting to admit her friend had a valid point. The whole argument was moot anyway. Dating anyone seriously was a luxury she simply didn’t have time for.
Luckily Jayne was a good friend. She let her off the hook easy. “You’ll just have to keep looking.”
“Maybe, but regardless of who I date, let’s get one thing straight, Jayne. I’m not looking to fall in love. Lust? Definitely. Sexual attraction? I’m in. Red-hot, set-the- sheets-on-fire fucking? Hell yeah. Forever? No way.”
Jayne looked at her thoughtfully. “I kind of think forever would be nice.”
“Ha, that’s because you weren’t raised by Beverly Harper Price Fitzgerald Warner, the queen of the five-minute marriage.”
“Agreed. Your mom’s giving Elizabeth Taylor’s record a run for the money. Which husband is she on now? I lost track after the second.”
Stephanie sighed and pretended to count on her fingers. “Four.”
Jayne winced. “Wowza. Well, you shouldn’t let your mother’s missteps lead you astray. True love does exist, Steph. You just have to keep your eyes and your heart open.”
Stephanie smiled. “You’ve been reading too many romance novels. They’re rubbing off on you. Unfortunately, it’s not like Portland is crawling with hot guys who frequent bookstores and right now, this bar is the only place I’m likely to meet someone. I can’t remember the last time you and I hit the nightclubs together.”
To make their store a success, Stephanie and her friends had made quite a few sacrifices—the main one being social lives. Because of the bar component, weekend evenings usually found the store open for business. To keep the profits high, they’d decided to do most of the running of the store themselves rather than hire outside help. Stephanie hadn’t had a day off in nearly five months.
“So obviously you grabbed one of the few available men to darken our door and had sex with the beer distributor.”
Stephanie shifted her purse on her arm, grinning widely. “You have to admit, he’s easy on the eyes with all those muscles and that rich, golden tan, even if he is kind of dim.”
“Dim might be an understatement. I think it’s all those steroids he swears he doesn’t take.”
Jayne’s laughter was contagious and Stephanie giggled before flexing her muscles and deepening her voice to mimic Hank the Tank. “Feel those guns there, baby. All natural.”
Jayne feigned a girlie swoon.
Stephanie’s laughter gave way to a heavy sigh. “Christ. I really am pathetic.”
As if the question ‘Wanna pitch to an agent or editor’ isn’t enough.
Hello! A huge thanks to all my wonderful hosts as I run all over cyberspace talking about Agent/Editor Shop at the Musetracks blog.
In this crazy world of easy access to information, it’s also easy to miss huge opportunities, or forget! Because I get so many comments that writers either forgot, or didn’t know Musetracks did pitch sessions, I asked a bunch of fellow writers, bloggers and readers to help me spread the word.
For those of you who don’t me, I’m Candi Wall, one of the authors who co-contribute to the Musetracks blog. Jennifer Bray-Weber, Marie-Claude Bourque, and Stacey Purcell are my super smart co-contributors and goodness knows where I’d be without them!
I’ve been hosting acquiring Agents at Musetracks for almost two years, and only recently, we decided to add editors as our guest. We’ve been lucky to have agents like Melissa Jeglinski, Jessica Alvarez, Mollie Glick, Becky Vinter, Kevan Lyon, Scott Eagan, Lois Winston, Jill Marsal, Michelle Grajkowski, Kimberley Cameron, Emmanuella Alspaugh (now Morgan), Laura Bradford, Jenny Bent, Sara Crowe, Weronika Janczuk and Stan Soper.
Our guest editors thus far have been Rhonda Penders w/ The Wild Rose Press, Jennifer Miller w/ Samhain Publishing, Debby Gilbert w/ Soul Mate Publishing, Beth Walker w/ Secret Cravings Publishing, and the editors at Books To Go Now have booked three dates in the future!
What we offer is a ‘Pitch Day’. I only take 30 pitches, and only the first thirty VIABLE pitches that come in on pitch day will be seen by the agent or editor. And I will warn you, I’m a stickler for following guidelines. If you don’t include exactly what is in the rules… I delete without prejudice. And I delete quite a few. (And yes, I receive plenty of hate mail.)
You can find us here:
Musetracks and there is a sidebar with Agent/Editor Shop dates and attending professionals
You can find the rules for pitching here:
Musetracks Agent/Editor Shop rules Please read them carefully!
I’ve also created a Yahoo group so writers can sign up to receive Agent/Editor Shop updates. I only send messages with agent/editor attendance updates, reminders of pitch dates, and any information about the contests we run on pitch day. Usually a giveaway or a chance to comment for the Top Pitch Slot. You can request to join here:
Easy as pie! We welcome every stage of writer and at Musetracks, we strive to help other writers, the way we were all helped when we first started out, and the way we are supported today.
Hope to see you all at a pitch day, and if not, feel free to pass the word along to others.
Happy reading and writing!
A little about Candi:
Candi Wall is an author of contemporary romance, and YA.
She’s a mother of four (21,17,12,9), a rescuer of six (4 dogs & 2 cats), proud auntie of too many to count, a soon-to-be grandmother and great-auntie, a retired Cub Scout leader of 16 years, an avid animal lover/protector and ex-animal control officer. Oh yeah, and wife.
You can find her here:
The Trinity Masters series continues! What do you get when you put a virgin scientist, a billionaire and an FBI agent together in a bedroom? Read Primal Passion and find out!
Trinity Masters, book 2
There is passion and power in three…
Deni Parker thinks she’s got it all figured out. At the cutting edge of science, she has little time for anything but work. Luckily she doesn’t have to bother with dating because she’s a member of the Trinity Masters—a secret society that has not only helped her career, but which will identify the two people she’ll spend the rest of her life with in an arranged ménage marriage. When her invitation to the introduction ceremony is delivered—years ahead of what she expected—by the very intimidating, and far too handsome, Price Bennett, Deni’s more than a little unprepared.
Price didn’t join the Trinity Masters to play messenger. As CEO of a major security firm and heir to one of the largest fortunes in the world, he’s annoyed when the Grand Master orders him to transport the disorganized, virgin scientist to the ceremony to meet her partners. It’s only when they arrive that Price realizes he isn’t a messenger—he’s been matched with Deni.
FBI Agent Gunner Wells has been in love with Deni for years, but he’s resisted giving in to his attraction. When he arrives at his introduction ceremony, he’s delighted to discover Deni is not only a member of the secret society, but one of his partners…along with billionaire playboy, Price Bennett.
Their strong personalities clash—in the bedroom and out of it—but Price and Gunner have to put aside their overprotectiveness, and Deni must put aside her pride, when someone tries to stop her research—with deadly methods.
2013 GIANT BOOK FAIR
This year’s giant book fair at the Romantic Times Convention will take place on Saturday, May 4th from 11am – 2pm. The location is at the Sheraton Kansas City Crown Center, 2345 McGee Street, Kansas City, Mo., 64180.
For those bringing collectibles and “keeper” books, they have a system to separate these books for you, so as not to mistake them for new books! You can purchase a $5 ticket at the door to attend just the book fair.
I will be there and I would love to meet you. If you’re in the Kansas City area, I hope you’ll stop by!
This week I’m attending the Romantic Times Convention in Kansas City, Missouri. There are two events that are open to the public. If you’re a KC local, I’d love to meet you!
2013 RT Booklovers Convention • May 1 – May 5
Kansas City, MO, at the Sheraton Kansas City Hotel at Crown Center
DAY PASSES ARE AVAILABLE!
On Thursday, May 2 from 4 – 6 pm, there will be an ebook expo with more than 300 e-book and small press authors and many graphic novel authors. RT recommends that you download any QR Code Reader from iTunes since many authors will have a QR (Quick Response) Code on their promo materials. With this QR Reader you can scan the code on your mobile device and go right to the book you want to purchase. You can buy your E-Book, Indie Publisher and Graphic Novel Expo ticket at the door for $5. The location is at the Sheraton Kansas City Crown Center, 2345 McGee Street, Kansas City, Mo., 64180. Tickets can be purchased on site and we suggest you arrive at 3:30 pm.
FOR THOSE WHO *CANNOT* ATTEND THE EXPO IN PERSON
Join in the virtual EXPO event!
THIS YEAR THE RT EXPO IS GOING GLOBAL! ARe is the official bookseller for RT’s Expo and this year they are making the book lover event global so that everyone from home can participate. Join in the fun by visiting this page on May 2 from 4pm to 6pm and attend the virtual event! Just click on any author’s name and it will take you to her unique author page on All Romance e-Books website where you can begin purchasing. If you do not already have an account with ARe, you should set one up before the EXPO begins to make your purchasing easy on the day of the event.
2013 GIANT BOOK FAIR
This year’s giant book fair will take place on Saturday, May 4th from 11am – 2pm.
For those bringing collectibles and “keeper” books, they have a system to separate these books for you, so as not to mistake them for new books! You can purchase a $5 ticket at the door to attend just the book fair.
I hope to see you in Kansas City!