The Next Big Thing

Hi everyone,

My friend, the wonderful historical author, Ann Lethbridge, http://regencyramble.blogspot.ca, invited me to be part of this chain blog called THE NEXT BIG THING--a series of questions and answers about what's happening next in my writing life.

What is the title of your latest book?

That would be my February, 2013, release IN FROM THE COLD about city girl Callista MacKintosh who comes to the fictional town of Accord, Colorado to persuade the owner of a gorgeous piece of land to sell to make way for a ski resort. Gabe Jordan has no intention of selling the land he adores and on which he runs his dogsledding business.


Will your book be self-published or traditional?

IN FROM THE COLD is a Harlequin Superromance and should be on bookstore shelves by February 13th, just in time for Valentine's Day. For the ebook, look for it on February 1st at: ebooks.harlequin.com.


How long did it take you to write the first draft of your manuscript?

I'm not a fast writer, and Superromances are now 80-85,000 words long, so four to five months with constant editing along the way, so it doesn't really look like a first draft by the time I complete it.


What is the one-line synopsis for your book?

How about some of the back cover copy instead? 'A city girl to her core, Callie doesn't do rugged. She does do her job, though. Gabe is her boss's estranged brother. And Gabe is the most fascinating man she's ever met. Her focus is severely compromised by his strong, sexy ways. More than that, having spent time on this land, she's no longer convinced a ski resort belongs here. But she thinks she might. Because for the first time, with Gabe, she feels as though she's come home.'


How did you come by the idea?

I had always wanted to take an Outward Bound course, so when my life changed drastically a few years ago, I knew it was time. I decided to try dogsledding in Algonquin Park--and it blew my mind. It's one of the best things I've ever done! Whooshing silently over snow in an amazing setting and the exercise involved were wonderful, but the best part was the dogs. They had heart, endurance and flat-out unlimited love to share with the participants. Our guides treated them like gold and the participants showered them with affection. I remember thinking at the time that one of my future heroes would have to do this. This year, I was finally ready to write this book. Gabe loves his land, but he loves his dogs even more.

What else about the book might pique your reader's interest?

I go into detail about how he takes care of his dogs--all of the things I found fascinating when I went dogsledding.

Did you know that sled dogs live outdoors all of the time? They never come inside. The dozen or so of us participating in the four-day course slept in a large prospector's tent. One of our guides brought a dog inside one evening to teach us about sled dogs, but the poor thing was so uncomfortable indoors that the guide cut the lesson short and took her back to her mates.

In the middle of the night, the dogs would suddenly start to bark, perhaps disturbed by a nocturnal creature out and about nearby, and would all start to howl. It was eerie and breathtakingly beautiful and would last for a good five minutes, absolutely wonderful to hear in the still of the night. The best and most baffling part is that they would all stop howling at the same moment, as though there were a conductor in front of them bringing them to an abrupt halt with his baton. One time, one dog went on a touch too long and his howl was followed by a small yip, almost an, "Oops, sorry, I missed the stop signal."

If you can't already tell, I loved the dogs ;-)

Join Vicki Essex on December 18th for the next stop on this chain blog.

Vicki Essex is an author for Harlequin Superromance. Back to the Good Fortune Diner is her second book. For more information, visit www.vickiessex.com. You can also find her on Facebook at www.facebook.com/vickiessexauthor and on Twitter@vickiessex.

Sweet Acknowledgment

In March, my sister and I took a road trip to Columbus, Ohio, to attend the Romantic Times conference. I was given their Reviewer's Choice Award for Best First Series romance for my first Superromance, NO ORDINARY COWBOY.

I was thrilled!

Acknowledgment is crucial for everyone in every field. It is especially important for writers who spend so much time working alone in offices, caves, spare rooms, or niches carved out of dining or living rooms. Writing is a solitary pursuit. It isn't always easy to determine whether what we are writing will mean anything to the reader, whether s/he will find excitement, peace, wisdom, fun, escape--whatever it is that we are trying to make her feel.

I think that's why reviews matter so much to us. The good ones are like gold and make a rough day better. Bad reviews? Not so much. My favorite reviews? From readers who were touched personally by something that I wrote. In NO ORDINARY COWBOY, the hero and heroine each had a painful secret that filled them with shame. I won't disclose those secrets here, but I will say that I received letters from readers who had suffered with the same problems and had been touched deeply and personally by the book. So, so gratifying.

Every remark made to writers touches us deeply.

To you readers who purchase our books, thank you for reading them, for taking the time to recognize our work and for sharing our passion.

Hands-on Men

There is something about hands-on men that is so appealing when their gestures are warm and affectionate.

I sat at the beach one day for a brief coffee break of twenty minutes or so and watched a young couple who were on a blanket nearby.

He lay on his side supporting himself on one elbow. She sat with her back to him curled over a big textbook studying. Perfectly normal, right? At first, yes, but while I watched, for my entire visit, he touched her non-stop. He ran his nails lightly over the part of her back exposed by her sundress and her shoulders and arms, hands, knees, legs, feet.

There was nothing lascivious about it. His actions were perfectly suitable for a beach. It was gorgeous and sensual. Everywhere his fingers went his eyes followed. He was obviously fascinated by her.

I thought, wow, I have to use this guy and this scene in a novel one day. I also thought, if this is what he is like in public, what on earth is he like in a bedroom? As a writer, that thought certainly fueled my imagination.

Cut to another scene, another beach. I had been sitting with a friend while we watched our children play in the sand when a large bunch of men and women formed a party nearby. They were middle-aged to older people.

Same thing again. Another man who loved to touch. The group was large and voluble, very animated. I would guess the man to be in his late fifties to early sixties. He sat beside his wife with his hand on her back, or her shoulder, or her knee, while they each talked to different people. Such an ordinary looking man, but so sweet and loving. When they all settled down, she lay on her stomach and he rubbed her back, then lay down beside her and rested his hand against hers.

Ah, such simple romance and so lovely.

Sisters!

I have four sisters, with ten years between the oldest and youngest. Since my mum's recent death, we've spend a lot of time together, mostly walking through the different parks and trails of Toronto and talking. Despite our grief, we can still laugh. My mum taught us to take every opportunity in life to laugh.

Last weekend, we had a sleepover at my sister's house and cried a little, but we also laughed a lot.

It reminded me of one of my favorite weekends with my sisters. All five of us, plus one sister-in-law, rented a van and drove to Ottawa to visit my daughter, who was in her first year of university at the time. We wanted to skate on the canal during Winterlude. February in Ottawa is absolutely frigid! When we met my daughter at her dorm, we carried our skates and were dressed in a ton of layers, heavy hats and mittens, and our warmest winter coats. When we took the elevator to access the walkway to one end of the canal, all seven of us crowded in, the doors closed, we pressed the correct floor's button and went...nowhere.

The elevator was stuck. To my daughter's knowledge, there had been no problems with it in the months she had been using it.

We were able to call security, who had to bring in a repairman from his home. There was no one available on campus who could help us to get out. Shedding a MILLION layers of clothes, we built a pile waist high until we were down to one layer--camisoles and undershirts. It looked like we had built a bonfire of winter clothing in the middle of the floor.

After a while, impatient students started to knock on the elevator and we were laughing and yelling, "It's HOT in here. We're menopausal women. Get us out!" which thoroughly embarrassed my younger sister who was definitely NOT menopausal. My daughter laughed until her sides ached.

Half an hour later, we were rescued by an older gentleman who kindly averted his eyes while we pulled our layers back on.

We still laugh about that.

I'd love to hear your favorite stories about times spent with your sisters. For those of you with brothers? Definitely share your stories, too!

Grandmothers are Special People

On February 21st, my mum passed away, suddenly and unexpectedly, leaving the family reeling. I don't want to make anyone sad, or to bring you down. The purpose of this blog is one of celebration.

I find that I remember my mother at the oddest moments and not always with sorrow. There are times when I feel great joy thinking about how much she gave to those around her, and how fortunate I was to have been her daughter.

What I want to discuss is how she affected my daughter and the wonder of the extended family.

My daughter is an only child so every family member is important to her. She has a warm relationship with all of her aunts and uncles, and loved her Nan dearly.

My favorite memory of my daughter and Nan together goes back to when my daughter was three or four years old. She always enjoyed talking to adults and, even at that age, was a great listener.

Because we lived outside of Toronto and I wanted to maintain a close relationship between my daughter and her Nan, we would visit my mum for sleepovers. My mum was an early riser, and I am not, but I would hear my mum head down to the kitchen very early and then, a few minutes later, would sense my daughter slipping out of bed to join her grandmother.

More than a few times, I came downstairs to find them sitting in the open doorway of the back porch in the sun, still in pajamas and housecoats, my mum with a cup of coffee and my daughter a hot chocolate. Even before I finished walking the stairs, I could hear them chatting. When I turned down the long hallway, I would see them with their heads together, silhouetted against the green grass, trees and colorful flowers in my mum's back yard, enjoying each other and the day. It is a snapshot memory of my two favorite people.

A week before she died, my mum and I had lunch and she mentioned how much she loved and admired my now-grown daughter and how important to her the times they'd had the opportunity to spend with just each other were. Especially, she remembered those mornings when they sat together on the back porch in the sun and talked.

On the day of the funeral, I told my daughter what her Nan had said about her and she was thrilled. She recalled those memories so fondly. I'm sure she will carry them with her always. She was fortunate to have had her grandmother in her life for so many years.

I didn't meet my mother's parents until I was nineteen. They lived in Newfoundland, one of Canada's Atlantic provinces. That's when I learned where my mother got her sense of humor--from her father--and her streak of mischief. Nan played tricks on people, which my daughter loved.

There weren't many times that I was able to visit my grandparents, but I cherish the memories of those rare visits.

I would love to hear some of your cherished memories of your grandparents.

I have fond memories...

In February, the published authors of the Toronto Romance Writers hosted a Librarians' Tea for our local librarians. A resounding success, it brought back fond memories of visiting my local library often and regularly when I was a child (which, admittedly, was a verrrry long time ago). In those days, libraries were quiet, hushed places. My library was a sanctuary for me and I loved its hallowed stacks of books.

In my large family there were resources for only a few books. I craved more and got to know my local branch well.

The upper floor was devoted exclusively to children and I would curl up in cozy window benches in front of leaded glass-paned windows and devour books. Because it was such a long time ago no individual titles come to mind, but I do remember reading the Madeline series by Ludwig Bemelmans as well as the Curious George books by H.A. and Margret Rey--and loving them. There was also my prolonged fascination with ballerinas.

Somehow, I missed the Nancy Drew series, but loved the Bobbsey Twins. By then, I felt a closer kinship with the older 12-year-old twins Bert and Nan, than with 6-year-old Freddie and Flossie.

I moved on to Daphne DuMaurier, Phyllis A. Whitney, Victoria Holt and Mary Stewart, and devoured their books.

I'm sure that libraries nurtured most of today's authors and a huge number of today's readers.

I have tremendous respect for librarians and the work they do. These are the people getting our children as hooked on reading as we are.

I would love to know of your memories of your library when you were a child, tweenie and/or teenager. What books did you read? Which ones stand out as your favorites?

To Beard or Not to Beard

The other day, I happened to look through People magazine’s last dozen or so covers of their Sexiest Man Alive issues. What a feast.

One thing led to another and soon I was checking out good-looking male movie stars all over the Internet and dividing them into three categories, which dictated how attractive I would find them.

Those categories running from my own favorites to my least favorite were: the Clean-shaven look, the Two-day stubble, and the last category for Brad Pitt alone and the weird beard he’s sporting these days. I truly hope that doesn’t last long for him. What a shame to waste such a gorgeous face.

I would put Jude Law into a category of his own with his one-day stubble.

I love men's skin, especially on their faces. While the two-day stubble is undeniably sexy, some faces are just too handsome to be covered by anything other than a woman’s kisses!

Most male movie stars straddle the line between the first two, sometimes clean and sometimes with stubble.

Here is my list of favorites depending on how they looked in different photos.

Clean-shaven:

Matt Damon

George Clooney (his salt and pepper beard is a good look, too, though)

Daniel Craig (I really don’t like his mustache in A Steady Rain)

Two-day stubble:

Hugh Jackman (um, wow)

Patrick Dempsey

Gerard Butler

Weird beard:

Brad Pitt

How do you like your men? Clean or ‘dirty?’ Who are your favorite male stars?