Wednesday, November 14, 2012

Guest Post: Author Ella Grey




Cupid has been a very naughty boy. The Cupid’s Conquest series is a multi-author series started with Gunshy by Seleste Delaney and the latest offering is Irish Kisses by Ella Grey.

Irish Kisses

The thing with love is it’s all about finding that happy ending. Sometimes it isn’t that simple. People have a habit of making it complicated.

Eros can’t be everywhere at once so for this particular match-up he’s got some old fashion help. Serendipity is the muse of happy endings and her brand of help raises questions that fate might be planning in the hand of the blossoming relationship between Abigail Smith and Seth O’Connor.
Abigail Smith is having a particularly bad week.

Abby’s best friend and fellow lawyer Dawn Philips has been murdered and while Abby wants to bring down the man behind her death. Her bosses decide that she’s too personally connected. She’s told to take some time off and let someone else handle the case. The thing is, the case is falling apart and Abby just can’t let it go. A mysterious private eye pays her a visit and suddenly Abby finds herself on a plane to Ireland.

There she meets Seth O’Conner.

Seth is on holiday, travelling to Ireland to see the place where he grew up. He expected to drink too much Guinness and have some much needed fun. He didn’t expect Abigail Smith, the beautiful redhead and the blistering hot encounter they share in the aeroplane bathroom. She’s got secrets and it takes a brutal attack for Seth to learn them.
Now he has no intention of leaving her side.

Biography



Ella Grey is a full-time writer, with a little monster, a big monster and a cat who might actually be Satan.

The first instalment of the Molly O’Brien novella series was released in 2010. It was quickly followed by the Rachel Valentine eshort series, aimed at young adults. The Red Dress, her first attempt at adult fiction was released by Evernight Publishing as part of their Just Vamps anthology.

She thrives on new challenges and can’t wait to sink her teeth into a new story or a new genre. She can usually be found in front of her netbook with her earplugs in. Bother her at your own peril. You’ve been warned.

For more information about latest releases or a glimpse into the mind of a writer with a full plate, Ella can be found here.



Excerpt

“Are you okay?”

She looked up and into the green eyes of the guy who’d checked her out earlier. He actually looked concerned, and it left her wondering what she must look like. “No,” she said bluntly. “If God wanted us to fly he’d have given us a pair of nifty wings.”

He laughed as he sat down next to her. “Then why did you choose to fly?”

“Maybe it’s because I’m lacking anything close to common sense.” She closed her eyes and rested her head on the chair in front of her. She heard a stewardess asking if she was alright, and the guy mumbled something to her.

“It’s okay. I’ll keep an eye on her.” Abby heard something that sounded like a wallet opening. “I’m a cop, so she’ll be okay with me.” A slight pressure on her lower back caused her to look up. “Do you want a drink?”

She nodded. “Anything alcoholic would be great, thanks.” Alcohol would help numb her senses a little.
As the stewardess left, she realised the cop was still rubbing her back. It felt nice. If she focused on those small round movements, it took her focus away from the motion sickness. “I’m Abby.”

“Excuse me?”

“Well, since you’re touching me I thought we should at least exchange names.” She smiled to show she was kidding.  He removed his hand and Abby felt a swell of panic as the sickness came back suddenly. “Please, don’t stop. It is actually helping.”

He put his hand back and Abby looked down at the ground again.

“I’m Seth.”

“So you’re really a cop?”

He chuckled and it was the most dangerous sound Abby had ever heard, it made her heart pick up its steady pace and the dark place between her legs wet. “That’s want the badge usually means.”

She smiled, even knowing he couldn’t see it. She heard the stewardess come back with their drinks, and she slowly got up. Seth handed her one of the bottle of beer. “I’m sorry I don’t think they have anything else, unless you want water?”

“No this is perfect, thanks.” She brought the bottle to her lips and took a slow drag from it. “I’m sorry for ruining your flight.”

“Not at all, I came over here to talk to you anyway.”

His bluntness took her breath away, “Really, why?”

He took a quick drink and Abby watched as his tongue flicked out to catch a bead of liquid at the top of the bottle. “Just curious, are you visiting family?” He asked, quickly changing the subject.

She shook her head. “I’m visiting for work.”

“What do you do?”

“I’m a lawyer, but I’m doing a little freelance work at the moment.” While it wasn’t a complete lie, she didn’t want to go into any gory details. She didn’t want him to get that look of sympathy that everyone at her office seemed permanently fixed on their faces. “I’m going to Dublin. I’m looking for someone.”

Abby took another pull from the bottle. It felt good to be able to talk to somebody. For one it took her mind off her travel sickness, and since she found it hard to drag her eyes away from him, it was an added bonus. Now if she could just stop thinking how it felt to have his hand on her, it would be perfect.

You can find Irish Kisses and the other awesome stories in this series at http://www.evernightpublishing.com/cupids-conquests/

Thursday, November 8, 2012

Just like riding a bike...right? right?



This week (and a few weeks leading up to this week) is a busy and stressful time at my work. One of four high-stress times that happen each year at my work. Everyone I work with has a deadline to meet which requires a lot of preparation leading up to said deadline. Now, I know I’ve talked about my type-A behaviours in the past, but for those of you who don’t know, I’m a bit of a brown-noser (my husband likes to make kissing noises when I tell him something I’ve done at work that he believes is over the top...this happens frequently.) When I have a deadline or I agree to do something, I do it. Usually immediately...or as soon as humanly possible. I don’t like to sit on work and once I start, I do it until it’s done. I’m dependable...some might say anal...others curse and or mock me. 

Every year, four times a year, I get the same question from someone in the building who doesn’t know me well enough to know better... “Hey, Angie, you get your project done?” If I’m alone, I simply nod and say, “yep, I did.” If I’m with someone who knows me, they usually answer on my behalf, “Who, Angie? She got it done two days ago.” Snort. (I’m sure you can see why my husband makes ass-kissing noises.)

This is the way I am. I can’t change it. I don’t slack off. Ever.

I’ve heard some writers say that the only way to be a successful writer is to treat it like a job. To set goals and work every day whether you feel like it or not. I don’t believe in a muse and I don’t believe in writer’s block. I do believe that your ability to write (and I’m not talking skill but the act of sitting down and writing) is dependant, to some extent, on your state of mind. A person, an event, life in general can impact your ability to sit down and get the job done. I haven’t been very good at my writer job these days. I've been getting part of the job done...the editing part but the actual writing...yeah...not so much. The ideas are there...the plan is set, the outline written, but up until a week ago, my drive was M.I.A. It's an unusual and uncomfortable feeling for a type-A to not have a goal. 

It hasn’t been a great year for me. Which is probably the understatement of the century. 

I have some wonderful friends (both virtually and in real life) and supportive family who have been working hard to get my ass back in the game, to help boost my mood and my confidence. They stroke my ego, they give me love and slowly, slowly I am feeling more like my anal, brown-noser writer self. I’m not working to my potential...yet...but I’m getting there. 

So, those of you in the same boat, chin up, tits out (thanks Tammy ;-) and keep on writing...sooner or later you'll figure out how to ride that bike again.