Tuesday, August 28, 2012

Changing tack...

It's time for me to invite friends to do interviews and guest blogs again...

It's been a long time...and so many of my pals have great new books coming out...I think it's time to make good use of this blog. I've been terribly lazy. I used to be such a social creature, but over the past year I have slipped back into being a total introvert. Having a bad writing slump can do such terrible things to a person.

So, beginning in September, I hope to have at least one guest each week here. And I will be reviewing at least one book every month. It's time for me to emerge from my shell.

I Plan to bombard the Yahoo loops with invitations to do guest shots, so those of you who drop by occasionally get first dibs on my guest blogs. If you are interested in doing a guest blog, or being interviewed, raise your hands...

Um...I don't see any hands in the air...




Friday, August 17, 2012

Pre-release contest for Come, My Love

Win a copy of my upcoming release...

Between now and the formal release date of August 29, 2012, I will accept e-mail entries to win a copy of this upcoming release.  Simply go to my website and check out my contests page.  The formal rules are shown there.

For those of you who have already read this short novella under the title First and Ten,  the editing here is much better and there are a few plot alterations because the book no longer relies heavily on the works of my dear friends who wrote short stories for our original Anthology.  If you have not read it, please feel free to drop me an e-mail.  The winner will be chosen at midnight August 29, 2012.

An Excerpt From: COME, MY LOVE
Copyright © FRAN LEE, 2012
All Rights Reserved, Ellora's Cave Publishing, Inc.

To: franjamison@think_tank.com
From: SikorskiK@WIndiU.edu

Hello to all of Gracie’s Girls, class of 2002. Once again, thanks to all of you for the flowers and phone calls after my aunt Gracie’s passing last winter. You all meant so much to her, and to me.

As I’m sure you all know, our ten-year college reunion is coming up this summer. Since I now have Aunt Gracie’s big rambling house all to myself, I’d like to extend an invitation. If any of you are coming back for the reunion, you’re more than welcome to stay here, in your old rooms. Gracie quit taking in college students several years back, so there’s no one here but me and I’d love to have some company while I’m getting the house ready to put on the market. So what do you say? One last time as roommates? It would be great to see all of you again.


She hadn’t planned to attend, at least not until she’d received Karen’s guilt-inspiring email. Every instinct she possessed screamed at her to hit the delete key and pretend the email hadn’t arrived, but she just couldn’t do that. Karen was having financial problems and might have to sell the historic but dilapidated old Victorian house they had all shared in college.

She shouldn’t feel so gun-shy, but even after all these years it would be hard for her to go back and see all her old pals with the memories of her college years slamming hard into her refurbished self-image. A self-image that had taken her seven long years of analysis and hard work to create.

Fran sighed and rubbed her temples, shoving her reading glasses up onto her sleep-tousled head. She’d received the formal reunion invitation last week but had tossed it without even looking at it. No use reliving the whole college scene just to see how everyone else looked… See how many of her friends had kids… How they had all changed over the ten years since she’d last seen them. She certainly didn’t feel like listening to them telling stories about new babies and favorite pets and how they’d met their husbands.

All the things Fran had excluded from her life in favor of monetary success and “being her own woman”.

Fran was far more realistic now. She refused to kid herself. She had never found the man of her dreams and settled down to raise a family, mainly because it had taken her seven years to get past her own demented mental image of herself. And now that she finally recognized her own worth and had learned to love herself as she was, she was way past the wild need to flaunt her wares and try to trap some unwary male. Besides, most men in her age bracket were already married. Or divorced and on the rebound. Or just looking for a one-night stand. So far, that had never quite appealed, no matter how good-looking the man in question happened to be.

Men were not a necessity in life. Besides…she’d royally screwed up, long ago, with the only man she’d ever really wanted any sort of relationship with.

She ran her fingers through her wild curls and pressed her thumbs against the bridge of her nose. Back then she’d been so sure that the tentative advances he’d made were simply another way for the jock community at WIU to have a laugh-fest at her expense. She’d reacted defensively, tearing his ego into tiny strips. And then he’d basically left her alone.  


Only years later, after many long sessions with her uber-patient therapist, had it flashed with astonishing clarity into her mind. Jack Gerrard—her dream man—had actually tried to ask her out on a date. And she had gone off on the man as if he’d just asked her to jump naked into an anthill.

She gave a sigh of resignation. The worst part of it was that she’d always had the most pathetic crush on the man—most girls had crushes on the hot, sexy hero of the WIU gridiron.

Even in high school, Gerrard had always been in the company of cheerleaders and prom queens and the most popular girls. They hung all over him like bees around a honey pot. One look from those riveting blue eyes could make any girl drop her panties with a scream of delight. But Jack had ignored them most of the time, keeping up excellent grades so he could play varsity football. She supposed that was the true attraction.
Sure. There she went, lying to herself again. She’d been hot for his ripped body, just like all the other girls. But it had gone deeper than that with her.

He had offered her some modicum of friendship, and good-looking guys did not want to be pals with Fran Jamison. So when that friendship was withdrawn without explanation or reason, it had torn her up inside.



Saturday, August 11, 2012

Licking Her Wounds...

 Cal's Omega has had a title change...

The contract is winging its way to my publisher as I type. But the powers that be felt that the title Cal's Omega was not sexy enough..so I adopted my wonderful editor's suggestion, and renamed the book Licking Her Wounds.

Why this title? I assume it has something to do with the way Cal finds his soul mate...

Dogs and cats don't mix well...but the badly wounded little Lykos needs his help...and despite their obvious differences, in their human forms, they are a perfect match.  

Here's a short excerpt:

Licking Her Wounds
by Fran Lee
Copyright 2012

Cal landed squarely between the boys and the wolf, creating a barrier with his big body as he crouched in front of them, his ears flattened to his skull, his massive fangs bared in a vicious snarl. The wolf didn’t try to run, yet made no move to attack. Cal hissed and batted the air between them with a set of deadly, flared-out claws, showing the wolf what awaited it should the beast make a single move.

It was Jet who said excitedly, “She’s hurt, Uncle Cal.” And a small hand came to rest on his bristling shoulder. Cal drew in a deep breath at the calming touch, but didn’t relax his guard.

She’ll be dead if she makes a move toward you. Stay behind me.

But the wolf seemed to be in no condition to attack anyone. Cal watched as she sagged to the leafy cushion of long grasses beneath her feet and rolled slowly onto her back, weakly pawing the air in a sign of meek submission. A trick? A trap? He snuffled at the air. Fresh blood. Her blood, but not the blood of a female in heat. He kept his eyes glued to the injured Lykos, sniffing for others in the vicinity. There was only the one.

“She says they attacked her and were gonna kill her, Uncle Cal.” Jon ran a small hand over the huge golden leopard’s bristling back, and Cal found himself wondering why the hell the Lykos pack would try to kill one of its own. And how the hell could this dog possibly communicate with leopard shifter cubs. 

Did she attack you?

Jet quickly shook his head. “We found her layin’ over there and we scared her. She was just getting’ up when you got here. She’s hurt real bad. Is she gonna die, Uncle Cal?”

Totally absorbed in the situation, Cal shook his massive body and stalked carefully closer to the panting, bleeding Lykos female. The small voice he had heard earlier repeated the words that had brought him to this clearing…

Help me…please. If he finds me…he’ll kill me. 

 WTF? She was using mental communication. He had never heard of the Lykos having that ability. At least, not outside their own packs. Cal padded with extreme caution toward the female, low to the ground as he moved, his rolling muscles tensed to attack and finish the bitch quickly, should she be playing a game. He sniffed the breeze, and when he was certain she was too weak to be of any real danger to a Seronta male in his physical prime, he reached out with one huge paw, and pinned her heavily to the earth. His claws remained extended, splayed over her trembling chest, but not digging into her body.

Help me, please…he will…kill me…
He felt a shudder go through the thin body under his paw, and he tensed…

Before his eyes, the bloody fur began to recede, leaving his massive paw resting on a slender, badly mauled human female body, planted squarely between her small round breasts. A jolt of electric heat shot up his foreleg into his chest, and he almost snatched his claws back. Luckily for her, he had far more control.

I'll let you all know the release date once I know it myself...



Sunday, August 5, 2012

A very lazy weekend...

Need to stop lying around and get outside...

If it just weren't for the 100 degree temperatures, I would do just that.  I am not a heat-loving person.  I could never live in Texas or southern California or Florida. I admire those of my author pals who revel in the high temps...but since I carry my own thermal-blanket of adipose tissue, heat is not my friend.

I can handle temps in the high 70's or even the low 80's...but when they slip up above 90, I am a total wimp.  I get heat stroke getting into a sun-heated car when I go to the store!  When I park my car out in the sun, I have to put those foil/mylar sun shades in all the windows to tolerate getting into it again. 

At home, I have a carport, but even that doesn't keep the steering wheel from toasting my hands or the interior temperature of the vehicle from melting my makeup if I am wearing any. That is probably why I don't wear makeup in the summer. At all.

Sigh.  How well do YOU handle heat?  Are you like me, needing an air-conditioner when the temp in the house hits 80?   Or do you lie in the sun on a patio and use those mirror thingys to bake yourself to a darker shade?  What is your comfort zone, temp wise?  Do you adore steeping like a tea-bag in a hot pool? Or do you spritz cold water over your face and arms? I for  one like to wet a hand towel with cold water and hang it around my neck when I go outside on super-hot days.  Keeps me from roasting alive.  I actually get heat-headaches in high heat.

Come on...share your heat index with us.