Showing posts with label military romance. Show all posts
Showing posts with label military romance. Show all posts

Tuesday, August 20, 2013

With Honor and Rhonda Lee Carver


I'm so pleased to have Rhonda Carver hanging out with me today. I tell you Chef and Tyrell are just besides themselves giddy at the chance to pamper Rhonda. She's here sharing her latest release, With Honor, and was kind enough to answer a few questions. So here's Rhonda.


Tell the readers a little about yourself. 
Call me a romance addict. Since I was a teen, I’ve been hooked. A few years ago, I decided I wanted to make all of my dreams come true, so I wrote a book. I was published and I’ve been writing since. When I’m not tapping away at the laptop, you’ll find me with my DH, my wonderful children, too many animals to name and living life like there’s no tomorrow.

The tag line on my blog is ‘Indulge Your Inner Romantic.’ What do you do to indulge?
Three things…1. Write hot men who love to get their hands dirty. 2. Enjoy life with my hot husband 3. Eat chocolate. Lots and lots of chocolate.


How do you stay motivated when the Muse is uncooperative?
If you could go anywhere in the world on a romantic getaway, what would you do and where would you go? Bora Bora. I’d stay in a water hut and allow my mind to create storylines and characters.

What do you like to write about the most? The least?
I love writing men who are hardworking heroes in everyday life; firefighters, cowboys, military…

What one piece of advice would you give to an aspiring writer?
Never, ever, give up.

Where do you get your story ideas?
I’m not sure where I get the ideas from, but I slightly suspect that I have a treasure box inside of my head, full of stories and characters. Just when I wonder what I’ll write next…a storyline pops up and words flow. It’s pretty nifty how a writer’s mind works.

How do you stay motivated when the Muse is uncooperative?
Every writer hits a wall, right? When I begin to feel the heat slow, I read a good book. It definitely gets my mojo fired up.


Please contact me…



Website: www.rhondaleecarver.com


“I think you’re lost, sweetheart.”
With a deep breath, she turned to face him. Caught by the clearest, bluest eyes she’d ever seen, she went wobbly in the knees. Somehow she didn’t remember them being so blue, almost jewel-like. There were a lot of things she didn’t recall. He was taller than she’d thought, at least a head taller than her.
Staring was about all that she could do. He remained silent. His eyes lit up, as if he found this humorous. Wasn’t he the least bit bothered that she’d cornered him in the bathroom? She cursed the fact that he seemed calm while her insides quivered. Her heart beat fast and hard against her ribs. Every nerve ending came alive. Her life was about to change, again.
Back straight, she hoped she caught him with her best stern look. “No, I’m not lost,” she said.
His face went blank.
Time seemed to stand still, until finally he gave a nonchalant shrug. He turned to the urinal, unzipped his pants and continued with his business, all while she kept her eyes on his broad back. Disbelief and anger shimmied up her spine. How dare he!
Finished, he turned and crossed the small distance to the sink. Arrogantly, he kept his gaze on her while he washed his hands. “Well, help yourself then.” He nodded toward the white basin. “It might be a tad uncomfy though, with those heels.” One corner of his mouth lifted in wry humor.
“I didn’t come in here to use the bathroom, thank you. I like your wit, though. Too bad I’m not interested in playing games.”
The area between his brows wrinkled. “Then what? Since I can’t entertain you with my games, what can I do for you?”
She slid her fists to her hips and cocked her chin to the right. “What do you mean by that?” Did he think this was funny?
Finishing washing his hands, he flicked off the excess water and grabbed for a paper towel, still keeping his ice-blue gaze securely on her. And then, to send her irritation through the roof, he started laughing and nodding his head. “Okay, okay. I get it. Did the guys put you up to this? How much did they pay you to come in here?” He tossed the used paper into the wastebasket and then closed the area between them. “What’d they ask you to do? Seduce me? Is this a gift or a joke?” His eyes slowly slithered down her body. “At least they have good taste.”
“What?”
Reaching into his pocket, he produced a wallet and opened it.
She watched in horror.
“I’ll pay you double.”
Her gasp echoed off the ceramic walls.
Shrugging, he said, “Or triple, but that’s as high as I will go. Even a hot woman like you isn’t worth more than that, when all I plan to do is send you back where you came from with a goodbye and sincere good luck.”
“How dare you! I came in here to talk to you.” Her palm ached to slap him senseless. He deserved it. Anger boiled her blood. Her teeth clenched until she heard a gritting noise warning she’d break a tooth if she didn’t relax.

Friday, August 17, 2012

Book Spotlight-My Boogie Woogie Bugle Guy by DL Jackson


When Grace Daniels goes to the cemetery to visit the grave of her twin brother, she meets a soldier, there for the same reason, or at least that’s what she believes until he tells her about the blind date her brother arranged before he was killed in combat.
It’s the date of her dreams. Big band, brass and sass, Madame Eve from 1NightStand has set her up for an unforgettable night, a WWII swing dance party. Unfortunately she’s having trouble letting go of her past, and is afraid to take the chance given to her. 
Sergeant Frank Winters is an Army trumpet player who travels with the Color Guard, a great dancer and six feet four inches of eye candy that could make her an addict. He’s also a soldier and soldiers can get killed. Grace doesn’t have the heart to lose someone again, but Frank knows a good thing when he sees it, and he’s determined to show her in one night, she’s got more to lose if she walks away.
About the Author: 
D. L. Jackson is an award-winning writer of urban fantasy, science fiction, military romance and erotic romance. She loves to incorporate crazy plot twists, comedy and the unexpected into her worlds. As a U.S. Army veteran, she naturally adores men in uniform and feels the world could always use more. She does her part by incorporating as many sexy soldiers in her novels as she can. When she isn't writing or running the roads, you can often find her online chatting with her peers and readers. Grab a cup of iced coffee, pull up your virtual chair and say hi. She loves emails and blog visits from her readers. http://www.authordljackson.com

Excerpt:
“For my next number, I’m gonna play something a little more laid back.” A slurry voice rang out over the headstones, echoing through what was supposed to be a closed graveyard. A trumpet began to play. Dah, dah, dum. Dah, dah, squawk.
She bolted up. “What the hell?” Believing she was alone, she’d bared her soul to her brother. She certainly wouldn’t have had that conversation if she’d known someone lingered nearby. She turned around three hundred and sixty degrees, until her gaze landed on a mausoleum backlit by the moon. A man stood on the roof with brass to his lips, butchering Taps. In his other hand, he held a bottle of what was probably in the glass on Geordie’s grave.
Grace swatted the debris from her pants and stomped toward the mausoleum, irritation prickling up the back of her neck. She stopped at the base of the stone structure and glared up. “What are you doing here at three in the morning? The cemetery is closed.”
“Whoa, hot chick in the audience.” He swayed, threatening to fall off the roof. “Feel free to toss your panties onto the stage in appreciation.”
She clicked her flashlight on and cast the beam on him. “I suggest you get down from there before you fall or I have to arrest you for public intoxication.”
He gave her a shit-eating grin. “You got handcuffs?”
“Oh, God,” she groaned under her breath. “Of course I’ve got handcuffs. I’m the police.”
He rocked and blinked his eyes. “You’re hot for a cop.”
“Thank you, I think. Now get down.”
“Okay.” He jumped, hit the edge of the roof, rolled off, and dropped like a stone at her feet, doing it with all the grace of a bag of potatoes. Yet he’d managed to keep hold of the bottle and not spill a drop. He put the horn to his lips and blew, but nothing more than a raspberry came from the mouthpiece. “For my next number, I’m going to play....” He looked up at her. “Any requests?”
“Yeah, tell me where you’re staying, so I can take you to your room.”
“Easy, girl. What kind of guy do you think I am?”