Mr. and Mrs. at last.

Pat Davids here.

I went to a wedding last Saturday. It wasn’t just any wedding. It was unconventional, and it was the wedding that I have been waiting thirty-five years to attend. My daughter got married.

This is her family. I wish I has some wedding pictures to share, but I haven't gotten my copies yet.

Now, I know some of you are mothers and grandmothers so you will understand when I tell you that I have only been happier than I was Saturday three times in my life. Once when my daughter was born, once when my grandson, Joshua, was born and again when his sister, Shantel, was born.

All brides are beautiful, but even as a writer I can’t begin to describe how radiant my girl looked as she came down the aisle on her daddy’s arm. Even as I’m writing this post I’m getting tears in my eyes just thinking about it.

I’ll bet you think I was the one crying at the ceremony, don’t you?
Nope. I did not. I smiled so much my face hurt, but I didn’t cry.
You know who was crying?
Not the bride.
Not the groom.
Not my husband.
Not my mother.
Not even the groom’s mother.

The one who was crying pure tears of joy was my daughter’s little girl. For Shantel, it was more than a dream come true. It was all her wishes rolled into one.

You see, my Kathy and Tony have been together for ten years. Shantel is nine and that child was happier and more excited than all the rest of us put together when her daddy finally married her mother.

She made a beautiful flower girl. She walked down the aisle proudly with the ring bearer at her side--Duchess, the family dog. Did I mention my daughter and Tony were unconventional?
They are, but they are finally husband and wife in the sight of God and what He has joined together let no man put asunder.

This momma is so happy!

It's a Small World after All?

Hi...Stephanie Newton here.  My husband arrived home from Tanzania, Africa this week after a 27 hour trip home.  He and a 17 member team from our church spent a couple of weeks on a mission trip there at the base of Mt Kilimanjaro.  They had an amazing trip, beginning construction on a new school and building relationships and wells, hosting a basketball camp and VBS for kids, among other things.

My 14 year old daughter wanted to go so badly.  She has a heart for people and for missions and watching her dad leave without her was tough.  So while he was away, we spent some time talking about things that we could do to help people here and overseas without ever leaving home.  Here are a few of our ideas...

• Give the gift of food through Heifer International. (I, of course, began teasing her that she was getting a goat for Christmas)
• Buy yourself a cool bag and feed children around the world through FEED Projects.  My daughter bought an awesome reversible burlap bag, which will feed one child in Africa lunch for a year.  It's a remarkably small price to pay and a child who is hungry gets at least one meal a day.
• Use coupons and stockpile.  Take your extra items to the homeless or battered women's shelter in your area.  Or collect inexpensive items to make health kits which can be sent to people who need them by various mission organizations like this one or this one.
• Donate $10 to Nothing but Nets to help fight malaria in Africa.
• Write letters to people who are alone...shut-ins, soldiers, etc

We came up with lots more ideas...most involved buying something cool, like coffee (my idea) or T-shirts (hers).  But there are some ideas like writing letters or volunteering time that don't take money to make a difference in someone's life.  I know that all of you have lots of ideas from your own areas and churches.  Would you share some of the things that you do to help, even when you can't travel around the world?

Thanks!

Stephanie Newton lives in Northwest Florida with her husband and two teenagers.  Look for Holiday Havoc, the next book in the Emerald Coast 911 series, in retail stores in November.

Lyn Cote here-Have You Read a Roxanne Rustand Love Inspired?

Final Exposure by Roxanne Rustand

My rating: 4 of 5 stars


I just finished Roxanne Rustand's Final Exposure, a Love Inspired Suspense novel. I loved her characters. It's the classic story of a wounded hero, a caring heroine and a little boy lost. Oh, and toss in a big white puppy! On the other side of the coin, a mystery from the past and red herrings abound in this story of romantic suspense that will keep you reading and pay off with a big surprise at the end!


View all my reviews

BTW, the first book, Shelter of Hope, in my New Friends Street series, set in my home state Wisconsin, for Love Inspired Romance is out this month!

The House that Love Built--

Struggling single mother Rosa Santos is deeply touched when volunteers band together to build her a home. With a waitressing job, community college and church, Rosa barely has time to help, let alone dream about a husband and father figure. But when handsome volunteer Marc Chambers hands her withdrawn young son a little hammer, her heart swells. Suddenly, her son is blossoming. But the closer she and Marc get, the more he pulls away. Why? He's built her a shelter of hope.

One she—and her son—pray he'll take refuge within….

If you want to read more, click the cover above and it will take you to eharlequin where you can read the first chapter and purchase it.
Thanks!
Lyn Cote
Strong Women, Brave Stories

Cures for a Sagging Middle

Kim Watters here. Okay, I’m depressed. You know, that mind numbing depression you face when you stare at that manuscript after you’ve ditched yet another pair of too-tight pants that are now lying in a pile on the floor. Finally I realize that I’ve hit that road bump of midlife, and in a writer’s life, I have a sagging middle.

How did this happen?

For my body, all it took was a few years at a desk job and a healthy appetite for sweets. For my book, all it took was a lack of conflict. Sigh. Okay so it took a bit longer for my body to decide to rebel than my characters, but still. I mean, come on. It didn’t have to happen this way but I have no excuse. No thyroid issues to blame it on. The blood tests came back normal. Nope. Just the daily inactivity of sitting in front of a keyboard and trying to achieve that happily-ever-after without an outline or game plan.

So after I slip on a pair of comfy sweats, I realize I need to take action. Real action. Like starting an exercise routine, or gasp, going on a diet. Fortunately for me, the sagging middle of the manuscript is going to be an easier task to face.

This one won’t require expending an enormous amount of energy or sweating from places I didn’t even know had sweat glands or snubbing that last spoonful of ice cream left in the scooper after I dish out some for the kids. Nope, fixing the manuscript is just going to involve massive amounts of brain energy and some more computer time, which is what got me in trouble in the first place. (We won’t talk about the chocolate, though.)

So if I need a workout, then maybe it’s time to put my characters through the wringer too.

While I’m out for a jog–I really don’t like to run,–I can mentally add a new dimension or depth to my characters and force them to grow and change by throwing another obstacle at them. If I can work hard at my goal, so can they.

While I’m doing stomach crunches, which I hate by the way, I can twist the plot into a different direction that forces my characters to make different choices. For me and my own plot direction with the dreaded diet, that might be whether or not I allow a piece of chocolate or a slice of French Silk Pie into my mouth or a stick of celery.

Or I can tape a picture of that skinny pair of pants to the front of the refrigerator, which would serve as a constant reminder of my goal and strengthen the conflict within just as I can strengthen the conflict between my characters by revisiting their goals and motivations.

I’m determined to get rid of both my sagging middles. So what’s stopping me? Nothing.

Watch out. That woman sprinting down the street with a picture dangling in front of her while she’s doing stomach crunches to boot is about to kill someone. Fortunately it’s only in her mind.

Christmas in October? From Marta Perry

My latest story in The Bodine Family series, The Bodine Family Christmas, is coming out in October in a Love Inspired Christmas novella collection, Mistletoe Prayers. I'm so delighted to be partnering with Betsy St. Amant in Mistletoe Prayers. Her novella is The Gingerbread Season, and if you're ready to get into the spirit of Christmas a little early, I hope you'll look for it.

The Bodine Family Christmas is set, like all the Bodine books, in the Charleston, South Carolina area. I was delighted to have the opportunity to write a Christmas book there, since we always make our move south before Christmas, and I've had many happy Christmases in the Low Country. Most of the Christmas traditions mentioned in the story are ones in which we've participated, and the Living Nativity is based upon one held on Sullivan's Island, in which two of my granddaughters make appearances as angels each year!

The Bodine Family Christmas features Annabel Bodine, twin sister of the heroine of Book 2, Heart of the Matter. I hinted in that story that Annabel had a sad romance in her background, so I was able to use that to bring about this story. Here's a bit about it:

Left at the altar on Christmas Eve, Annable Bodine has lost her holiday spirit. When her big brother brings home handsome Coast Guard buddy Travis McCall, can she summon the courage to open her heart to love for the holidays--and maybe for a lifetime?

I hope you'll enjoy my story, and that it will make you think of your own Christmas traditions!

CSI:Miami and my romantic suspense novel

Camy here! My latest romantic suspense, Formula for Danger, releases from Love Inspired Suspense this month!

I don’t think this will spoil the story for you, but near the ending is a scene where the villain is trying to kill my heroine, Rachel Grant. I actually got the idea for this dastardly deed from watching CSI:Miami on TV! LOL

In the CSI:Miami episode, a girl (who was actually not a very nice person and was getting away with a large sum of money) got carjacked on her escape out of Miami. She woke up sitting in the driver’s seat in her car, and her car was on the edge of a huge, remote Florida swamp, facing the water. Her hands were duct-taped to the steering wheel.

Someone pushed her car down the edge of the embankment into the swamp, and of course, she started screaming because she was taped to the wheel. (Actually, now that I think about it, I’m not sure why she didn’t hit the brakes when the villain was pushing her car into the swamp. Maybe what actually happened in the episode was that she woke up after she’d already been pushed into the swamp and the car was sinking. I don’t quite remember.) Anyway, the car sinks and she drowns. (I apologize if that’s a bit gruesome for some of you.)

My husband mentioned that she should have used her teeth to tear through the duct tape, which I thought was a good point. He said that he would have duct-taped her mouth so she couldn’t do that.

I started thinking that this was a really neat way for the villain in my story to try to kill the heroine, except naturally she escapes and lives to get him arrested! :) But I also wanted my villain to be a smart villain, so I had him duct-tape her mouth.

Then I had to figure out how she’d escape with her mouth duct-taped. I’m afraid you’ll have to read Formula for Danger to find out how I did that. :)

Does anyone remember which season and episode of CSI:Miami it was where that car drowning scene was in? For the life of me I can’t remember!

I hope you enjoy reading Formula for Danger!

Camy Tang writes romance with a kick of wasabi. Out now is her humorous contemporary romance novel, Single Sashimi, and her romantic suspense, Formula for Danger, releases in September. In her spare time, she is a staff worker for her church youth group, and she leads one of the worship teams for Sunday service. On her blog, she ponders dogs, knitting and spinning wool, running, Asiana, and other frivolous things. Sign up for her newsletter YahooGroup for giveways!

Click here to find out how you can join my Street Team—it’s free and there’s lots of chances to win prizes!

Cover Art

Hi there! This is Renee Ryan and I’m excited to blog here today. I’ve decided to talk about a topic that’s been on my mind lately. Cover art. You have no idea how many questions I get about my Love Inspired covers, mainly from people wondering how much control I have over the final product. The answer is simple: It depends.

Here’s the process, from this author’s standpoint. About a year before one of my books hits the shelves I receive an email from my editor telling me it’s time to fill out the Art Fact Sheet (AFS) for the book. That means I have to go a Web site hosted by the publisher and answer a bunch of questions about the story.

Incidentally, this is the time when I’m asked to send in alternative titles for the book. Case in point. My current release started out as DEADLY ALLIANCE. Twenty-five or so suggestions later, my editor and I agreed on DANGEROUS ALLIES. Although both evoke the same tone, I like the new title better.

Okay, back to the cover art process. Like I said before, I go to a special Web site and begin answering questions about my story. The questions fall under several categories, such as: Characters, Scenes, and Synopsis, as well as a detailed page with basic questions surrounding theme, story hooks, date, setting, story timeline, etc. The character questions range from superficial things such as physical traits to deeper issues such as psychological wounds. The synopsis is basically a short and sweet summary of the story, something I would tell a friend at a party or sitting in the stands at a football game.

Most of the above is both easy and fun. However, I find the section about scene description very difficult. The publisher wants three very distinct, yet detailed scene descriptions. This should be easy for me. I love putting my setting in my books. But knowing that a real artist will be using my words to create a picture suddenly makes the ideas freeze in my head. That’s why I love the last and final portion of my job in the cover art process—creating a separate file of the images I think best evoke the mood of my story. I get to cruise the Internet looking for pictures of my hero and heroine, as well as possible scenes or other similar book covers I think will work for my book as well (in terms of overall tone).

This final component really makes the story come alive for me in my head. It’s so effective that I now try to capture many of those types of images before I start writing a book rather than after.

I spent the most time on this phase for my current release. The final product is my best cover yet. Well, in my opinion, anyway. In case you’re wondering, some of the images I chose for this book were pictures of Rita Hayworth and Daniel Craig (the current James Bond), as well as movie posters from Gilda, The Black Book and Casablanca. What do you think of the cover for DANGEROUS ALLIES? The story is set in 1939 Nazi Germany. Did the art department get it right, or what?

And a little child shall lead them

Carolyne Aarsen here. My husband and I went on a hiking trip in the mountains this summer. Amazing, wonderful, awe inspiring. As a writer I should be able to come up with the right words for the experience but words are too small for what we saw and did. We hiked up mountains and saw vistas that are reserved for eagles and mountain goats (which we also saw). I went up mountainsides that I would never have dared hike up before. I have a fear of heights and my husband has tried to take me places that I'm not comfortable and suffered the consequences. (panic, fear and anger - not a pretty combination). In fact, even on this trip, I turned around on the hike we did on the first day because I was getting well past my comfort zone in terms of scaling heights. But on the second day that all changed. The second day my brother and sister in law decided to take their four year old grandson along on a hike we were going to do. I figured I would go along because, hey, how hard could a hike be that a four year old can go on. Actually, I found out, very hard. Very scary. And challenging. Thankfully my husband was along to pack along the four year old through the hard stuff but as for me, I had to go it alone. There were times I was genuinely frightened and wondering what I had gotten myself in to. However, what kept me going was the fact that a little four year old boy so easily marched along and then got help during the hard parts. I know there could be some type of metaphor here - when we can't go it alone God carries us - and that metaphor is true. But what I also learned is that fear is really subjective. I knew so much about what could happen if I fell down. If I made one wrong step. If I got too dizzy. That little boy just walked along supremely confident that his grandparents would not lead him wrong as he walked along paths normally reserved for mountain goats along the edge of a mountain that fell away for over a thousand feet. He just kept on going. (though I have to say I was wondering at their expectations of the little lad ). But he did it. And with him in front of me, could I do any less? Nope. And I pushed myself well beyond my comfort zone all because I didn't want to say that a four year old went where I didn't dare. Shame is a great motivator at times. So is guilt. And fear. Thanks to those motivators, though, I went places I would never dared go and saw things I would never have seen had I stayed safely in camp. So I was glad he came along. If only to push me past my comfort zone with the prod of shame.

This is Barbara Phinney, blogging about the year of the rejection. It's kind of like a Chinese new year, but without the assigned animal.Yes, as you can imagine, I've received a few rejections. So I have done what every writer worth her mettle does. I keep on writing. And worrying. With two children in college and a husband just laid off, and the heating system needing an overhaul, you can imagine how much I'd like another contract.
But I've also experienced something else.
I was given a lovely daily devotional, and in it, on the first day I sat down outside to read it over a cup of coffee, it read,
"See not the small trials of each hour..."
The next day, it read,
"Trust in me absolutely."
Then, today, whilst at our church school helping out, our devotional was in John 15, but instead, my eyes fell onto John 14:27:
"Peace I leave with you; my peace I give you. I do not give to you as the world gives. Do not let your hearts be troubled and do not be afraid."
So, do you think God's trying to tell me something?Yeah, I do, too. God usually needs a bolt of lightning to get my attention, but this is less painful, I think.
So I've tried to set my worries aside. But one question remains. Do I sit and wait for something miraculous to happen? Do I wait like that fool in the flood, sitting atop his house as rescuers pass by, and declining all of them?
I am still writing. I am still submitting, but I know it will be in God's time. I know that He will see me through this rough patch. And of course, I would like to know the plans He has for me.
But trust, that one thing around which most of our stories are centered, is something I'm learning.
Have any of you seen God telling you something? Have you had to sit back and wait? How long have you had to wait?
I'm praying that your day is filled with peace, trust and love, all from God.Barbara Phinney

Another Mom Moment

Hello there! Dana Corbit here. I'm feeling a little sad this morning as I sit at a table in my favorite Biggby coffee shop. I had another one of those "Mom Moments" today as I sent my girls off to the first day of school. (Here in Michigan we start really late.) Anyway, we've all had "Mom Moments," right? The day we put our first or last kindergartner on the bus. The day we walk past Santa at the mall and realize that we no longer have anyone at home young enough to want to scramble up in the Jolly Old Elf's lap. At our house today was our LAST first day of school when I could force all three girls to mug together for the annual picture. Yes, we're THOSE parents who insist on recording these moments for posterity. This one is especially poignant. Next year the first will be off at college - probably thrilled that she won't have to be in a picture - and my husband and I will be telling the remaining two will pretend to like each other for the photo. All I can say is I'm glad I only had a minute to shoot these photos this morning before two had to drive off together and the other had to catch the bus because even now my eyes are burning and my nose is threatening to drip right here in front of the other coffee drinkers and wireless Internet surfers. How did this happen? What happened to my sweet little girls who ran along the beach in their matching red-and-white swimsuits, one still wearing a swim diaper under it? When did playing with Polly Pockets in the basement become driving to work and soccer practice, and when did parent-tot swim class become daily swim practice to perfect the breast stroke? I know. I know. It's supposed to be this way - it's part of God's plan for them to go off and make their own lives - but did it have to happen so fast? Did we have to go from first teeth to braces to smiles in senior pictures without taking a breath? One more year. I can say that today with a sigh of relief. We have one last year to be together as a family before they start flying from the nest one by one. People tell me that when the time comes I'll be ready to push each one from the nest and say "Fly, sweetie, fly," but I'm not convinced. (Pause to wipe my nose.) Better check on me next fall. I might need some comforting.

Labor Day

Today is Labor Day, and all across America families are celebrating. Labor Day was first observed in 1892 in New York and became a federal holiday two years later in 1894. Today most Americans celebrate it as the end of summer.

The first Labor Day was celebrated with a huge parade in New York, but things have changed in America in the last 100 years. There will be no parade in my town on Labor Day. In fact, most stores and restaurants are open today. The world may be changing all the time, but there are some things in life that should remain constant. The importance of family and friends in our lives should never change.

My daughter traveled home from Texas this weekend for her high school reunion. I was thrilled to see how happy she was to be with family and to reconnect with old friends. It reminded me of something I read one time. You may travel the world and meet all kinds of wonderful people, but it's the people who grew up with you and your family who remain the most important in your life. After all, they are the only ones who know your roots and what you experienced on your way to adulthood.

So, as you celebrate today, take a moment to think of the American workers, past and present, who contributed to what our country stands for and has become. Also, don't forget the people in your life, again past and present, who have contributed to the person you are today. I hope you have a great day!

Lyn Cote Here-Name the Kitties!

In the manuscript I just turned in, I have two golden tabby kittens that my heroine and her two little nieces adopt.
I need names for them. Will you help me?

What should I name them???

Drop by my blog and post your suggestions.

Deadline September 12th. I'll give a copy of my latest Love Inspired, Shelter of Hope,

to the person who names the kitties! All suggestions must be left on my blog

http://strongwomenbravestories.blogspot.com and I'm the judge! (It's my book!)

Thanks!--Lyn Cote

If It's Tuesday It Must Be Belgium. . .

Happy September 2 from Gail Gaymer Martin at http://www.gailmartin.com/.
Many years ago, I saw a comedy film called If It's Tuesday It Must Be Beligum. The story showed typical tourists going from country to country and becoming so confused they couldn't remember where they were. Trips can be like that, and I'm afraid my summer lended itself to that kind of speed. But instead of confusion, it stimuated my mind for story ideas.

The summer flew by on a whirlwind of travel. In late June I was in St. Louis for a writer's retreat, returned home and left three days later I left for Germany where I toured with a Christian chorale singing concerts at churches all over the country. Though I have visited Germany numerous times, this trip was different. First I visited many cities in what used to be East Germany and I walked the streets where people like Bach, Wagner, and Martin Luther walked. I saw their graves and places they lived. The experience made the trip special, but the most unique part of it was singing in churches all over the country.

When we arrived home, we had three days to get ready for a handbell conference in Nashville where I played bells and heard some of the finiest handbell groups in the country. While there, I missed some workshops to do the final edits on my March 2011 novel, A Dad Of His Own. Writers can't be away for long. After being involved with two trips involving music, I asked myself why I've never written a novel focused on music. My first Steeple Hill novel, Upon A Midnight Clear, did have a music theme, but that was it. I play handbells, sing in chorales, church choir, praise team, and in a renown chorale in Detroit. So one of these days, I will dig into my thoughts and write a series focused on music.

Our granddaughter visited from Oklahoma and we took her to northern Michigan to see the Mackinac Bridge and the lovely Mackinaw Island. We took the ferry over and spent the day, enjoying the weather, the scent of fudge and watching the horses clomp past.  If you've never been there, then you should know that this island has no automobiles. People live there year-round and walk, use bikes, ride horses, or use  snowmobiles in winter.  My novel, With Christmas In His Heart, is set there, and I love the story.  So why not write another novel set on the island? I'm thinking about it.  It's one of my favorite places on earth.

After our granddaughter returned home, we enjoyed our final trip of the summer onCape Cod for a week where we celebrated our 25th anniversary. We rented a cottage which you can see behind me in this photo, and enjoyed the sun and sand. We also saw a production of Grey Gardens at the Cape Cod Playhouse, enjoyed an outdoor concert, took a day to visit Martha's Vineyard (a wonderful experience), visited glass studios, museums, lighthouses and so much more, and while I was there. . . yes, I did.  I researched the location for a novel. It's a perfect place to fall in love.

 So if you wonder where authors get their ideas, traveling is one of the best places. I keep notes of the sights, smells and sounds, collect pamphlets, maps, brochures, programs, and photographs.  If you're on Facebook, visit my profile -- Gail Gaymer Martin -- click on the photo links just below my profile picture and then go down to the sunrise photo, click on it, and you'll see lots of my Cape Cod adventure.
 

When you can see things like this on your travels -- a sunrise, lighthouses, sandy beaches, great churches of Germany, restaurants that serve wienerschnizel and spaeztel, the Grand Hotel on Mackinac Island, the kites flying on the wind, carriages clomping past, ice cream cones and taffy, then it makes the cost worthwhile. Plus it inspires. And I defintely am inspired.

Cheryl Wyatt Touched by a Special Reader

Cheryl Wyatt here. I had a really neat thing happen to me today. I had a reader, who has also been a friend of our family since childhood, desperately trying to get an older book from my Wings of Refuge Series that she'd been missing. I also haven't seen her since I was in elementary school. When I found out several weeks ago that she was unable to find the book anywhere, I sent her a copy since I had a few left.

For the last couple of months, I've been shopping for a good set of knives. This is something I've never had but that I've been told by those observing my cooking (thanks Camy and Danica and Kristy!) that I need. Apparently every knife I have is dull and cheap. LOL! I almost bought a set day before yesterday but something (God?) stopped me. Not only that, school just started and WOW were supplies expensive. With some other bills coming up, I decided that good knives aren't in my budget this month. Also, my husband and I decided yesterday that we were going to tighten our spending so we would have more money to donate to our new building fund for the church youth group to enjoy. So basically, I gave up on getting good knives for now.

Today my grandmother called me over to her house and told me there was a surprise waiting for me. She beamed as I walked in the door. Next thing I know she's handing me a packet and guess what was in there?

That precious reader and family friend sent me a GORGEOUS set of specialty knives. I tell you when I opened the felt box up and saw that, I just knew it was not only a gift from a thoughtful and perceptive human, it was a gift from God. I had to fight tears back at the touching gesture. So, Marie Allen, if you ever read this...THANK YOU! I will most definitely use them, though they are so pretty all I want to do is look at them. LOL! They'll make many family dinners and snacks and contribute cutery to many potlucks I'm sure as well as meals to families in crisis or brand new mothers who need to rest rather than cook for their families for a few weeks.

So, LI Blog readers, I want to know about you now. What has been your most thoughtful gift lately, either given or received? Why so?

I'd love to hear about it so please chat away!

Warmly,

Cheryl Wyatt

Learning new tricks--Lenora Worth

I'm writing this on my brand new laptop. My old Compaq computer was on its last legs--as slow as a turtle and as ornery as an old goat. Now I have a new high speed machine that has a lot of bells and whistles. So I'm learning some new tricks. But honestly, I don't ask for much. I just want a machine that lets me do my job in a quick and efficient way. Writers live by deadlines (they don't call them lifelines!) So we really need equipment that works. I don't like a lot of patience and waiting for a computer to load is frustrating and time-consuming. And don't get me started on computers that freeze up and shut down. That does not make me happy.

I only ask for things that work. Such as a phone that actually has bars and enough juice to keep me from having to shout into a little speaker. I only ask for a computer that actually allows me to write at least ten pages a day and save it in two or three places without any surprises along the way. I only ask for electronics that hum and buzz like well-oiled machines, not old donkeys refusing to take that next step.

See, I don't ask for much--just a good coffee pot, a nice refrigerator and stove, a good washing machine and dryer and air-conditioning. Am I spoiled or what? How did people get along without all of these necessary toys? Oh, I'll let our Love Inspired historical authors explain that one. Me, I'm a futuristic kind of girl. Fast forward and onward. Now if I could just get used to this new keyboard. What is your favorite modern device or toy?

Looking For Dr. Right? In Paradise?

Janet Tronstad here. I don't know how many of you have been able to visit Alaska, but I am heading up there this Tuesday with my parents. I'm particularly excited because it is the setting for my latest book, Dr. Right. I have been in Alaska several times over the years and am pleased to have had a chance to write a book in that setting. Sometimes the setting is more important in some books than others and with scenery like Alaska a writer just has to spend time talking about the mountains, and the rich greens of the foliage, and (at least in my case) the friendly moose who wanders through town. I know Alaska isn't the only beautiful place, so I'm going to ask you what you would consider the optimum setting for a romance? Hawaii? Paris? Glacier Park?

Lyn Cote--A Question for You: Why Do Authors and Publishers

giveaway books on blogs?
Drop by my personal blog http://bit.ly/N4yOf between now and Sunday night and tell me about your blog experiences. What you like? Why you read blogs?
There will be a DRAWING from those who leave comments before August 30th.
Don't miss a chance to spout!--Lyn Cote

Characters are like favorite neighbors

Hi all! Dana Corbit here. Have any of you ever felt that emptiness that comes when your favorite neighbor gets that big promotion to Chicago or retires to Phoenix? Sure, you're happy for her, but you're lonely as you look at the house where she used to live. Saying good-bye to characters is something like that. The feeling is bittersweet. You remember the good times you had together, but you also remember the bad times - when her dialogue wasn't crisp enough, when the cover mock-up didn't match his description in the book, when they refused to fall in love the way you planned. You still miss them though.

I've been feeling that way this month with the release of WEDDING CAKE WISHES, the third installment in the Wedding Bell Blessings trilogy. (AN UNEXPECTED MATCH came out in August 2009, and HIS CHRISTMAS BRIDE followed in December 2009.) These characters are particularly dear to my heart because the whole set-up of the trilogy is based on my relationship with my best friend, Melissa. Like Trina Scott and Amy Warren, the matriarchs in the stories, Melissa and I were pregnant together three times. She had the boys, and I had the girls. We used to joke about arranged marriages of our "matched sets," but our kids nixed the idea early on. But in fiction, it was perfectly acceptable for two meddling moms to arrange the lives of their children. Still, even in fiction, God has a sense of humor, so their matchmaking plans didn't turn out the way they planned.

No, the characters aren't completely based on the individuals who inspired them. Melissa and I are WAY TOO YOUNG to even worry about our children's marriage plans. And even our children are still too focused on Homecoming dances, soccer and rugby to think about such things. But I did spice the stories with an occasional true-to-life moment. For example, the childhood tale about Haley Scott feeding slivers of soap to the Warren family's fish, Crunch. That really happened. Just ask my youngest, Alexa. The fish was really named Crunch, too, and yes, he lived. I even borrowed two of the heros' names - Dylan and Logan - from the real boys who inspired them. Logan was disappointed, though, when he learned that his story was to be a romance, and there was no sword fighting anywhere in it.

Yes, I'm feeling the loss of the neighbor left behind as I say good-bye to these characters. It feels like saying good-bye to these six young people, who in my memories are still riding rollercoasters together at Michigan's Adventure or sledding together on what had to be the coldest day in Wisconsin history. But then there are always the new stories in my head, peopled with new characters I can love in the beginning, despise during the difficult points in the writing process and learn to love again by the end.

And you never know, two best friends still might have some matchmaking ahead. ;)

Filling Big Shoes

Merrillee here, showing off another photo of my granddaughter. She's trying to wear her grandpa's shoes. He's lounging in the background as he watches her. This photo reminds me of the lesson that Jesus taught his disciples about children that we read in Matthew 18:1-4

¹At that time the disciples came to Jesus and asked, 'Who is the greatest in the kingdom of heaven?" ²He called a little child and had him stand among them. ³And he said: "I tell you the truth, unless you change and become like little children, you will never enter the kingdom of heaven. ⁴Therefore, whoever humbles himself like this child is the greatest in the kingdom of heaven."

Children have a way of showing us God's truths. I like to include them in many of my books. My current book, HOMETOWN PROPOSAL, available now, features the hero's young daughter Olivia. She helps Seth and Elise find love with each other again. You can read an excerpt by using the link below.

http://www.merrilleewhren.com/books.html

Excerpt of FORMULA FOR DANGER

Camy here! Hooray! Here’s an excerpt of my September romantic suspense, Formula for Danger!

HER LIFE WAS ON THE LINE

Someone wants dermatologist Rachel Grant's latest research, and they'll do anything to get it. Including trashing the plants needed for her breakthrough scar-reducing cream—and trying to run Rachel down. Desperate for help, she turns to Edward Villa, the only man she trusts. But the greenhouse owner knows too much about Rachel's research, and now he's a target, too. Break-ins, muggings, murder…the would-be thief is getting desperate—and getting closer. Edward vows to protect Rachel at all costs. Yet with time ticking away, Edward knows they have to uncover the madman shadowing Rachel before their chance for a future is destroyed.

Excerpt of chapter one:

Dr. Rachel Grant had walked only a few feet out the back door of her family's Sonoma day spa, Joy Luck Life, when the patter of running footsteps behind her made her turn.

She had only a glimpse of a dark hoodie and a tall, lanky figure before a shove sent her sprawling onto the sidewalk. Thwack! Her left cheekbone collided with the cement, sending pain lancing through her head.

Snow clouded her vision and she struggled to open her eyes. Her heart pounded in her throat, making it hard for her to breathe. Frantic, she opened her mouth wide but no sound came out.

She glanced up. The backsides of dirty sneakers filled her field of view as they trotted away from her. Then a hand scooped up the bag strap of her sister Naomi's laptop computer, which had flown from Rachel's grip to land on the edge of the pool of light from the parking lot streetlamp. The sneakers hustled away.

Breathe! Rachel forced her wooden lungs to fill and tried to scream, but only a harsh croak came out. Where were the security guards? They should have seen the attack thanks to the outside video cameras. How long would it take for them to run out here?

Even worse, Naomi would be devastated to lose that laptop, which she'd bought barely five hours ago.

She heard the creak of the spa's back door, then more footsteps. "Rachel! Rach, are you okay?" Naomi fell to her knees beside her, hands on Rachel's shoulders. "I was talking to Martin, and we saw it all on the security camera." Martin, one of the security guards, raced past them, pursuing the stranger and the laptop.

In the distance, a woman's voice screeched, "What are you doing? Don't leave me!" It sounded as if it had come from the front of the spa.

Who was that? What was going on?

Rachel pushed herself up, her cheekbone throbbing as she rose. She squeezed her eyes shut to the wave of pain and paused on her knees, her head bowed.

Naomi put her arm around her. "Where are you hurt?"

"Just my cheek."

Naomi pulled Rachel's hair away from her face to look at her. Rachel had a hard time opening her eyes again as the pain splashed across her forehead, trickling back inside her skull. "How bad is it?"

"You'll have a black eye, that's for sure. We need to get you to the hospital."

"No, I'll have Monica look at it first. If the family nurse says so, then I'll go to the hospital." Just the thought of all the people in a crowded emergency room made Rachel cringe. She only wanted a quiet place to lie down and recover. "I'm sorry about your laptop."

"Forget the laptop, I'm worried about you."

"I only took a fall, nothing worse. But that laptop was new—"

"I can buy a new one. Besides, I'm almost glad it was new because it didn't have anything on it, so the spa didn't lose any sensitive information. That would have been worse." Especially since Naomi still managed the spa while their father recovered from his stroke. Naomi had bought the computer to help her with the spa's accounting.

"We should call the police and report it stolen."

"We should call Dad and Aunt Becca first." Naomi dug her cell phone out of her pocket.

"Call Aunt Becca. Aren't she and Detective Carter out to dinner tonight?" The two of them were dating again after an argument that had kept them apart for a few months. It was almost 10:00 p.m., but they might still be together at a movie.

As Naomi talked to Aunt Becca—who indeed was with Detective Horatio Carter—Rachel managed to sit up, although the evening sky spun around her. She clutched her hands together, trying to stop their shaking. She'd been attacked in the spa parking lot!

Clicking heels made Rachel look up. Gloria Reynolds, one of Naomi's massage clients, tripped toward them. "Dr. Grant, are you all right? Did that man hurt you?"

"Ms. Reynolds, you're still here?" Not the most tactful thing to say, but her headache was making it hard for her to be polite.

"Ms. Reynolds was my last client for tonight," Naomi told Rachel as she ended her call with Aunt Becca.

Gloria flipped her highlighted hair with a manicured hand. "The security guard was walking me to my car when he saw that person running away. Miss Grant," Gloria said to Naomi, "you really should talk to that guard. He ran after the person and left me by myself. Even when I called to him. And it was obvious the other guard was after the man, too, so there was no need for him to give chase."

Naomi smiled politely and responded with amazing courtesy when Rachel knew she must be rolling her eyes inside.

A flash of car headlights made Rachel wince as a vehicle headed down the spa driveway.

Then alarm jolted through her. The spa was closed, and the security guards, running after the thief toward the drive way, would have stopped the car from entering. Were the guards okay?

The car maneuvered into the staff parking lot, then stopped right next to them. A door opened and slammed shut. "Rachel!"

Edward Villa's voice made her heart leap into her throat, then settle back down in her chest, racing. Edward was here. Suddenly everything seemed okay.

No, she had to stop reacting this way to him. He didn't think of her as anything other than a client.

"Are you all right?"

She smelled him—pine, a hint of the orchids he worked with at his greenhouses and earthy musk—before her eyes registered that he was crouched in front of her, edging out Ms. Reynolds.

"The guards told me what happened when I drove in."

She had been able to keep it together when talking to Naomi, but somehow, his concern for her undermined her control over her emotions, and she steeled her jaw against a sudden onslaught of wild sobbing. Casting herself into his arms would only solidify his cool opinion of her, which he had made abundantly clear a couple months ago.

"Rachel." He reached out for her.

She held up a hand to stop him.

He grasped her hand, engulfing her fingers. His callused fingers rubbed her knuckles. His touch made her head spin.

"I'm fine," she whispered, breathless. She pulled her hand away.

The security guards walked up to them. "I'm sorry, Miss Grant, he got away. He ran up the driveway, and there was a car waiting for him at the end of it. They took off."

"Dr. Grant, are you okay?" the other guard asked, peering at Rachel.

She felt like a bug on display. "I'm fine." She heaved herself to her feet, but it made the blood pound painfully in her head. She swayed.

Edward's arm wrapped around her, making the earth stand still again. It felt good to be held by him. It felt…

Too good. She pulled away from him.

Edward paused a moment, then he bent down and collected her purse, which had dropped and scattered its contents when she fell. As he handed it to her, his eyes were calm, but somehow she could sense a fire burning behind them. As if other emotions ran deeper.

She didn't understand. While they had been working together for the past year on Rachel's new product for the spa, they had gotten closer, and she had felt free to be herself with him. But then, in the past couple months, he had withdrawn from her, become distant and polite.

Maybe he had seen who she really was…and he hadn't liked what he saw.

The thought was like a punch to her gut, every time she thought it. Which had been often in the past two months.

No, maybe he had never been interested in her, and he'd suddenly become aware that he was leading her on. Regardless, recently he had been clear in showing that he had no interest in her beyond a good business relationship.

She was just imagining the emotion in his eyes was deeper than natural concern. "Thank you." She took her purse from him, avoiding touching his hand again.

The silence was thicker than cold cream.

"Rachel—" he began.

"Here you go, Miss Rachel." Martin, a security guard who had been with them for years, handed her an ice pack he must have gotten from inside the spa. "That'll keep the swelling down from that shiner."

His light words made her smile, made the situation not seem so horribly violating. "Thanks, Martin." She pressed the cold pack to her eye, and found that it enabled her to avoid looking at Edward.

"Ms. Reynolds," Naomi said, "let me escort you back inside. We can wait for the police in one of the lounge rooms."

Rachel stayed outside and watched them reenter the spa. She tried not to remember what had happened, but it came to her in flashes. She shivered. She'd been bullied in grade school because she'd been a geek and a bit odd, but no one had ever assaulted her. Even bickering with her sisters Naomi and Monica had never gone beyond a little hair-pulling.

But tonight, someone had deliberately hurt her. It made her feel weak and vulnerable. Not in control.

And she didn't like it.

She especially didn't like that it had happened here, at the spa.

She suddenly realized that Edward had no reason to visit her here. They usually talked on the phone about the basil plants he was growing for production of her new spa product and met at his greenhouses. Why was he at the spa this late at night? "Edward, what are you doing here?"

His eyes were deep obsidian pools as they studied her, then he surprised her by looking away.

"Edward?"

He sighed. "I called your home and your sister Monica said you were still here."

"Did you try calling my cell phone? Did I not hear it ringing?" She fumbled in her purse and grasped the rubbery edge of her rugged waterproof cell phone—a necessity since she'd ruined two phones by using them while working in the lab with chemicals.

"No, I didn't call."

Avoidance wasn't Edward's style—neither was this vague evasiveness. "Then what…?"

He didn't answer immediately, and his face was grave. "I came to the spa to tell you something you're not going to like."

Her heart beat hard, once. But really, how could her day get any worse? "Lay it on me. I'm ready."

"Earlier tonight, someone broke into greenhouse four."

"Greenhouse four? My greenhouse?" Technically, it was his greenhouse, but the only things in it were her Malaysian basil plants. "Were you there? Are you okay?"

He paused, and his searching gaze made her stomach flip. But she lifted her head and tightened her muscles to keep her molten insides in place.

"I'm fine. I wasn't there when it happened."

"Oh. Good." She tried to slow her racing heart. "Did you call the police?"

"Yes. I left my brother, Alex, to meet with them while I came to talk to you. On the way, I called Horatio Carter, who said he was also headed here with your aunt, so that was fortunate. I'm hoping he'll come back to the greenhouse with me tonight."

"How did you find out about the break-in?"

"I left my cell phone in greenhouse six, so I went to get it. I noticed movement in the yard, and when I went to check the greenhouses, I found yours unlocked."

Her headache became a jackhammer against her skull. "Was everything okay?"

The lines deepened around his mouth. "No. Someone trashed it—all your plants."

She gasped.

"Don't panic too much. Alex is moving the plants to greenhouse seven right now, and I can salvage most of it."

"Most of it?" She needed Edward to cultivate a certain number of plants so she could make the extract for her scar-reduction cream, scheduled to launch in only five months. She couldn't be late. The spa depended on her new product launch. "Will you be able to grow more? I need…" She faltered at the shadow that crossed his eyes.

He replied evenly, "Your research will be fine, Rachel."

His distant tone confused her. What had she said? She switched tactics. "You left your cell phone in a greenhouse? You never do that. If you hadn't forgotten it…"

A half smile twitched at his mouth. "God was watching over your plants, I think."

The familiar way he said it made something squirm inside her. Edward had always had such a different relationship with God than she did, and it seemed to widen the gap between them. "Why didn't the alarm go off? I thought the greenhouses all had security alarms in place."

"They do—to monitor temperature and humidity, and also to alert when a window or door is opened. But the system in greenhouse four didn't go off. I checked it, and it looks like the thief tampered with it."

"Aren't those security alarms top-of-the-line? High-tech?"

He nodded. "Whoever did this was a professional, not your average thief."

The mild California fall breeze was suddenly frosty against her skin. "How about the other greenhouses?"

"I checked them all. Only yours was broken into."

"Only mine?" This was a blow she didn't know if she could bear, not on top of everything that had happened tonight. She bit her lip.

It almost looked as if he didn't know what to do with his hands, finally resting them on his slim hips. "I don't understand it. Some of the plants in my other greenhouses are extremely rare and valuable, but whoever came by didn't even touch them."

She'd seen those plants—exotic orchids and rare rain-forest species, mostly commissioned by wealthy clients because of Edward's reputation for cultivating delicate tropical plants. "None of them were taken?"

If the burglar could have dismantled the security alarm for one greenhouse, surely he could have dismantled the security alarms for the others. Or maybe he hadn't had time to because Edward had discovered the thief's activities. But why bother with destroying her plants when he could have more quickly gotten into the other greenhouses and stolen the rarer species?

Edward's eyes pinned her with concern and gravity. "The thief entered only greenhouse four, Rach—the thief was only after your plants."

Edward hated chaos, and it surrounded him in greenhouse four—broken pots, torn leaves and potting soil dusting everything. He stood in the midst of the destruction and sighed.

It wasn't actually that bad. He'd discovered the open door before the temperature had dropped too much, and now Rachel's plants were all in greenhouse seven. He was also planning on paying for an evening guard to walk the greenhouses—at least until the person responsible for this was caught.

Detective Carter glanced up from where he surveyed some toppled tables. "It would have been better for me if you'd left the scene as is, Edward."

"Sorry, Detective, but Malaysian basil is extremely sensitive to temperature and humidity. The plants could have died within the hour."

Detective Carter shrugged and went back to taking notes.

"Thanks for convincing Rachel not to come out here tonight, Horatio," Edward said.

The detective shook his head, his thinning red-gold hair glinting dully in the fluorescent light. "She didn't need to see this. She's had a bad night already. How many plants survived?"

"Almost all of them, actually."

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