Whiskey Creek Lodge – the new series

I am embarking on a new series… I’ve nearly finished the first chapter of the first book. I know I’m not very far yet but it took me some time to get a visual in my head of the people and places around which this series will centre.

It is a small town series, because I love small town. I think a lot of us can’t wait to get out of our ‘small town’ and then we grow up and wonder why it was so bad. Sure maybe high school sucked but was it the town or the people you had the bad luck to associate with. I like bringing back characters to their home town, or if they have never lived in one before, to a small town for the first time.

That preamble should give you some idea of where I’m going with this…

Hannah thought she knew what she was going to do with her life. Get a marketing degree, marry her long-time boyfriend Ryan and run her grandfather’s inn. Except her grandfather tells her in no uncertain terms she’s not ‘man’ enough to run his ‘lodge’. She gets angry and she gets lost, out to prove to herself and to those around her that she is good enough. 

Fast-forward to more than a 10 years later and she’s just lost her job as the director of marketing for one of the priciest boutique hotels in Toronto. Okay, she didn’t lose her job. She quit in a very public, much talked about break up with her married boss. Now she’s persona non grata and begrudgingly accepts her twin brothers’ request that she comes home to run Whiskey Creek Lodge with him. Harris has been doing managing it on his own for two years since their grandfather died but he needs her. Whiskey Creek needs her. 

And he doesn’t tell her but Ryan needs her.

So as you can see Hannah and Ryan are the first book. The town is loosely modelled after Dryden, Ontario. I think their website may be pushing it a bit when they say it’s  where the rugged beauty of Northwestern Ontario meets the bright lights of city life. It’s not a very ‘big’ city. Okay, sure it has a Walmart, and thanks to the highway it has a lot hotels but you are not going to find a swinging nightlife here. It’s charming and quaint. It is economically sound, thanks in large part to the mill which makes the town stinky too, depending on which way the wind blows. I’ve always liked Dryden.

As for the Lodge – it was inspired by the Riverview Lodge, which has these beach volleyball courts out back. It is located on the Wabigoon River… or in the book, Whiskey Creek. The goal is to have book one finished and to the publisher by mid-September, so I better get cracking.

If you don’t hear from me for a bit – please know it’s because I’m spending some time in Whiskey Creek with some new friends.

In the mean time I hope you will check out my new summer releases:

Eighty-One Days is available for pre-order this week from PRIDE Publishing and for early download on August 8th. Jenna is there to mend Luke’s heart after Eric leaves town – now that Eric’s back, how long will it be before Jenna invites him to share her and Luke’s bed?

 

 

 

Sensory Limits is a BDSM anthology from Totally Bound Publishing. In it you will find Bound to Happen, my short story. Jaymie knows better than to date her best friend’s brother, but there is no way she can keep the sexy Dom in the ‘friend-zone’.It is available for pre-order on August 8th, early release on August 22nd.

 

 

 

AND IF YOU CAN’T WAIT…

Don’t forget that Invitation to Play is available now. Married for nearly five years, Deacon and Sherri didn’t extend an invitation to play with them to just anyone. But the ex-air force Captain turned tattoo artist wasn’t just anyone. Kai intrigued them. The three quickly discover they don’t want one night they want forever.

 

What not to wear…

I had a work colleague who looked aghast at my boss and I one day when we said we couldn’t wait to get home at the end of the day and change into our jammies (to be clear, we were both going to our own homes, not hanging out in our pjs together.)86b3d30fbca9254e9dc74dddb481af09.jpg

Her horror was in the fact that we wore pyjamas around the house, or for that matter sweats. When we pressed her she gave a nervous laugh and said, even when she’s doing her housework she’s still wearing her heels.

It was our turn for horror. I think I said something like “you vacuum in highheels” to which she replied, “of course!”

There is no of course about this. That’s just weird to me. I would come home from work and change immediately into either sweats or what I still call ‘house jammies’. These are not sleeping jammies. These are cute little patterned pj pants or capris (some actually need ironing but I try hard not to buy ones that do because they sit on the ‘to be ironed’ pile for months) and tank tops or t-shirts and sweaters.

They could almost be considered lounge wear but I probably wouldn’t be as embarrassed opening the door to the delivery man in ‘lounge wear’ the way I am in my mint green panda capri pj pants.

When I want to pull out all the stops at home, then I will wear yoga clothes because my husband likes my butt in yoga pants and built in bra shelves help to lift and sometimes even separate (be sure to get ones with good cups to avoid uni-boob.)

bb32bb2e990de41669cb61f321dcbce8.jpgHowever this has left me, now that I’m not working in the corporate world, with a plethora of ‘good clothes’. I am loathe to go shopping even on a Saturday in my sweats or yoga gear because that’s now ‘everyday wear’. I love to get dressed up and feel ‘a different type of pretty’ (I’ve updated this from just saying pretty because even in my pj’s… I’m still pretty) even if I’m just picking up dog-food, getting groceries, or meeting a friend for coffee.

So how is this about ‘what not to wear’… well I’m going to say never wear something that you aren’t comfortable in. If want to wear your heels and feather boa to clean the toilets – go for it. Don’t let anyone, or their expectation of propriety deter you.

As one of my besties always says… “Let your freak flag fly – we’ll love you while we mock you.”

 

My first novel

In the interest of full disclosure the one I’m about to discuss wasn’t my very first one… but it was the first one that I got nearly completed. I was twelve when I wrote the first one and it turned into more of a novella – very Sweet Valley High sort of thing with a girl playing a fortune telling gypsy at the schools’ spring carnival and the boy she liked. I can’t remember if it was more romance or mystery but it had a heaping helping of teen angst. And I, unfortunately, don’t have a copy of it any more.

But I do have a copy of The Legend of Landau. I actually rediscovered it this past weekend when I pulled a binder down from the top shelf in my office. There it was in all its still dot-matrix glory.

The Legend of Landau was written during my senior year of high-school – 1990. I was a fan at the time of romantic fantasy. The characters were young adults, who using their psychic gifts, follow an old legend and uncover the ‘stone’ that will awaken/call forth Landau.

There are numerous flashbacks because our heroine is the descendent of a powerful witch whom Landau loved and she shares her memories (these usually come to her in dreams). In this way she learns more of Landau’s true nature, and it’s not all sexy, god-like immortal. There is a evil undercurrent – his kind were the Destroyers.

No wonder I never finished it – I’m sure I fell in love with our bad boy and had no idea how to redeem him… Either that or school ended and I had my own teen angst to follow.

I decided to move the binder to the shelf next to my desk to remind me to get back to it one day. Of course that would mean re-typing all 200+ pages, but maybe one day.

In the meantime…here’s a very short sample.

     Terri collapsed on the bed of room seventeen at the Journey’s End Motel. She felt drained and could hardly keep her eyes open. She wasn’t sure how she’d been able to drive from the beach in this condition, when all she wanted to do was sleep for a month or so. Raising a god took a lot out of you.

     Landau followed her into the room, shutting the door behind him. He marvelled for a moment over the complexity of the door lock. “Terrena,” he said exasperated, an ignorant of her exhaustion, “Teach me to latch this.” 

     She climbed off the bed, after all, this was now her job. Teaching him to survive in the modern world. “Here, she said showing him the little button in the centre of the knob. “You turn this to the right and this,” indicating the deadbolt, “You also turn to the right.” 

     She unlocked them both two more times and then let him do it for himself. 

     “Just how much do you know about our world?” 

     “I know of your advances, but I have never tested them myself.” He looked around the room, assessing the myriad of technology that made up modern life. “I feel you’re tired, but could you please show me how these machines operate?” 

     “Of course.”