Spreading love

Spreading love

Sunday, December 16, 2012

Hello... Joanne C. Berroa

Rebel Ink Press author Joanne C. Berroa stopped by Sports Romance to promote her most recent release, My Life, My Heart.

How does a brilliant and independent woman from the 21st century fall in love with a dashing colonel in the 18th century? How can that love survive the test of time to live on through three centuries?
Elena Martin is a beautiful and intelligent time traveler who experiences the kind of love one only reads about in novels when she finds herself back in time during the American Revolution. Sebastian Rogers is a ruggedly handsome colonel in the Continental Army who sweeps her off her feet. Faced with the daunting decision to stay forever in the past or go forward in time to the present, she makes the ultimate decision for the sake of love to stay and forge a life with Sebastian.
But there are dark clouds on their horizon and Elena soon finds the need to return to her own century where she is strangely drawn to another man, Brett Darby, her Princeton University professor. Brett harbors an unsettling secret---he can see and feel things that can't be explained by reason or logic. What powers do Elena and Brett hold over each other and why are their lives irrevocably intertwined?
My Life, My Heart is a novel that leaves the reader feeling good about love, life, and death. It's a story about endurance, hope, and a love so strong it defies time.
She squinted against the sunlight then looked at the clock on the time machine’s panel board. Eleven a.m. Only moments ago, it had been midnight. Or at least it seemed like moments ago. She looked around. In the distance were tall trees and the bright blue sky was filled with cumulus clouds. Otherwise, there was nothing. No animals, no chirping of birds, humming of bees, or the chatter of humans. It was surreal. She looked at the time machine’s gauges. One gauge was made to disclose what time period she was in. It hadn’t moved. Suddenly she wanted out of there, and fast. She had to get back to the University to document this. It was obvious some additional calculations had to be made before her flight could be accomplished again. The gauges and compasses should’ve read where she was and what period it was. The time machine was designed to remain stationary, yet it had moved. Something was amiss.
Elena started the ignition again, saying a little prayer the machine would in fact take her back to the University. What if it didn’t work? Would she be stuck in this soundless dimension forever?
She felt the now familiar droning of the machine beneath her feet. Again, she lost consciousness. Expecting to awaken in Bowen hall, she was startled when she awoke to complete darkness again, and the same unnerving silence. She reached out with both arms to feel around her, but her hands touched the nothingness of space. Panic surged through her along with cold fear. If she were inside the time machine, she should feel the coolness of the metal walls. The controls should be at arm’s length.
Yet her hands touched nothing. Suddenly the disturbing silence was shattered and she heard sounds, loud sounds, unintelligible at first then gradually becoming clear. Through the fuzziness of her brain, she deduced it was men’s voices, thick guttural sounds and they were shouting.
She stifled a cry as blinding light filled her senses. Her pupils narrowed, trying to adjust to the brilliant light. Then, like gazing through a kaleidoscope, it all came into focus, the voices and the bodies. All around were soldiers in uniform, barmaids serving beer and whiskey and she sat on a wooden bench minus the time machine against the planked walls of a tavern. Her heart was pounding. Where was she?
About the author: My life's passion has always been writing. Begun at an early age, I never got enough of creating "life" through my stories. It's such a high to be able to make realistic, believable characters who come to life on my computer monitor. Basically, they tell their own story and I just write it down. Their lives are very real to me, and I feel deprived not to be able to meet my heroes in real life. When not writing (which is seldom) I teach piano and organ. But my first and foremost love is weaving stories that readers will appreciate and remember.
Purchase links:

Wednesday, November 14, 2012


Lila Munro, a fellow Rebel Ink Press author, dropped by to promote her latest book, Assumed Calling. Here's what she had to say:

Like the beat of a primal drum whispering the rhythm of an ancient dance, the lifestyle calls…
At the seasoned age of fifty-six, Allen Bourke has resigned himself to the fact he’ll probably never find someone to top he can also love. While he’s had wives and lovers, none of them endured and he’s come to the conclusion the clock’s ticking and age is working against him. Then a very intriguing Nicki Cartwright pings on his radar at what Allen determines will be his last house party. He can’t help but notice while he and his friends are getting older, the players emerging on the scene are forever getting younger. Nicki's no exception. Determined to resist the vibes humming between them, he only agrees to service her after his old friend, Kyle Montgomery, convinces him it's entirely feasible. Then it’s brought to Allen’s attention who Nicki really is. Knowing their pasts are forever intertwined, as hard as he tries to ignore his heart, he finds himself yielding to the tides of fate.
Born to senatorial royalty, Nicki Cartwright has spent her entire life trying to shield her mother from her father’s wrath while drifting further and further into a world where panic is normal and anxiety is always on the edge of her reality. Tired of burning the candle at both ends and forever trying to live up to the picture of All-American perfection her father James Cartwright touts as his ace in the hole during election cycles, Nicki finds herself on the path of self-discovery in search of relief from the stressors continually swamping her mind. What she doesn’t expect is to find who she thought she was is truly just a shadow of the person she really is. And what scares her most is the fact Allen, the only person she thought she could trust, has been holding a secret since before she was born which could destroy her entire family.
When her breath caught at the realization of just exactly what he had planned, Allen leaned in and kissed her again, then leisurely made his way down. He kissed her chin then nipped the underside of it before flicking a trail with his tongue down the side of her throat where he sank his teeth into the hollow of her shoulder. Coming to accept what was going to happen, Nicki seemed to let go and leaned back on her palms, affording him access to her breasts.
So pretty, leaned back, offering herself to him, handful sized breasts jutting in the air, her nipples already shrinking into hard nubs. Allen took the left one between his teeth and razed it. He looked up to see her eyes drifting shut and her lips parted, staggered breaths whispering across them. She was so responsive to his treatment of her breasts, so completely receptive to the small amount of pain he used, bringing him to question if she’d be equally responsive to different kinds of pain, pain more severe than a spanking. For some reason, the image of her splayed atop the piano on her belly, spread-eagled and strapped down came to his mind’s eye. Her back was striped in his fantasy from the caress of his short-tail.
Allen couldn’t deny he wanted more with her than to appease her daddy fantasy. He wanted much, much more and he wondered how far he’d go to get exactly what he desired.
Now available at: Amazon ARe Nook Bookstrand
About LilaLila Munro currently resides on the coast of North Carolina with her husband and their two four-legged kids. She’s a military wife with an empty nest and takes much of her inspiration for her heroes from the marines she’s lived around for the past fifteen years. Coining the term realmantica, she strives to produce quality romance in a realistic setting. Her genre of choice is contemporaFirery romance that spans everything from the sensual to BDSM and ménage. When she’s not writing, she enjoys reading everything she can get her hands on, trips to the museum and aquarium, taking field research trips, and soaking up the sun on the nearby beaches. Her works include The Executive Officer’s Wife, Bound By Trust, Destiny’s , Salvation, Three for Keeps, the Force Recon series, the Slower Lower series, and the Identity series. She’s a member in good standing of RWA and Passionate Ink. Currently she’s working on sequels to several series to be released throughout 2012-2013 and has a brand new line scheduled for winter 2012-13. Ms. Munro loves to hear from her readers and can be found at Realmantic Moments Facebook Goodreads Twitter You can also contact her via email at lilasromance@gmail.com and you can find all her works at: Amazon ARe Nook Bookstrand

Saturday, September 15, 2012

Dreaming of Dust Bowls

In western Oklahoma on a clear day the sky reminds me of a huge blue bowl stretching from above to every corner of the horizon. Although the summer just past was a dry one, drought conditions never reached the historic proportions of the 1930’s and the Dust Bowl. But older folks still remember those terrible times. I’m not from Oklahoma but I have a few family roots going deep into the Sooner State. One of my great-grandmothers made the trek from what was still Indian Territory, before statehood, with her family to northwest Missouri in a covered wagon. Before we were married, my husband spent some time working on oil drilling rigs in the panhandles of both Oklahoma and Texas. I like to travel and Oklahoma ranks high among my favorite places to visit. Combine all of the above with a childhood spent listening to my grandparents talk about the past. Since they raised their children during the Great Depression era, talk often turned to the hard times of the period. One of my great-uncles made bootleg whiskey and sold it. My grandfather, living in Nebraska at the time, ran the booze north. He quit when a friend in law enforcement warned him the law knew about the activities but his brother continued. And he did a year and a day in the Missouri State penitentiary for his crime. But he wasn’t a criminal – he was a man driven to do desperate things to survive.

One of my other grandfathers (yes, I had more than the usual amount because my grandmothers were both widowed and remarried) recalled sharing a barber shop experience with bank robber Clyde Barrow. Bonnie must’ve been at a beauty parlor down the street. I grew up in St. Joseph, Missouri where outlaw Jesse James met his untimely end and I have stories about the event connected to my family. But Charley Floyd, also known as Pretty Boy Floyd (a name he hated), is my favorite outlaw. I think Choc Floyd was a basically good man who went wrong.

So when I sat down to write a historical romance set in the 1930’s, Charley Floyd came to mind. He makes a cameo appearance in my just released Dust Bowl Dreams from Rebel Ink Press and my hero, Henry Mink, gets an idea how he can save the family farm through Charley’s example.

Life’s never easy for a good-hearted man who decides crime is the answer to his troubles.

No rain in the summer of 1933 is bad news for Oklahoma farmer Henry Mink. The local banker wants the mortgage on the farm paid and unless Henry comes up with the dough, his widowed mother and four young siblings won’t have a home. Jobs are scarce so he decides to rob a bank. His sweetheart, school teacher Mamie Logan, doesn’t like the idea and neither does Henry’s kid brother Eddie but Henry’s out of options.

He leaves home and robs a bank at nearby Ponca City. When he returns home, he pays off the mortgage but new troubles show up. Mamie is his greatest joy and they become engaged but by fall, Henry has no options left but to rob another bank. If he can pull off one another big job, he figures he’ll be set until the hard times are over but few things in life go as planned. His desperate efforts will either secure his future or destroy it forever.

If Henry’s family survives and Mamie’s love endures, he’ll need a miracle.

“Tell me you were just being silly a while ago,” she said. “I’ve been worried sick you meant what you said.”

Her touch kindled tenderness, but deep in his crotch Mamie’s fingers lit another fire and he inhaled hard. “I did mean it, girl. When I got back to the house, Richardson from the bank sat there, fedora on his knee, badgering Mama for money. He’s planning to foreclose and take the farm unless we come up with the money by the end of July. We sure as hell don’t have it and I don’t know of any other way to get it.”

Mamie’s eyes darkened almost black. “I could ask Daddy, Henry. I don’t know if he has it or not, but he might.”

“No,” he said, spitting out the word with force. Then he used a softer tone to add, “I appreciate it but I ain’t taking your family’s charity. I’ve made up my mind. I’ll rob a few banks, pay off the mortgage for Mama, get ahead, save some money and then I’ll quit, no harm done.”

“It’s wrong,” Mamie said with a troubled expression. “You know it is, Henry.”

He did, but damned if he’d admit it now. “What’s wrong is people getting kicked off their families’ land where they’ve lived for generations,” he said. “Banks are wrong to wring the last nickel away from folks. It’s not right for kids to go hungry or old people to do without. I don’t aim to get rich robbing banks, just take back enough to get through these hard times. If I can help a few people on the way, I will. And I don’t plan to kill no lawmen or shoot anyone.”

“Oh, Henry,” Mamie said and sighed. “I know almost everybody’s having a terrible time and no one has enough money. I don’t think the banks are being fair either, but two wrongs won’t make it right.”

“Money’ll go a long way toward fixing it,” Henry said.

“There’s not enough money in the world to make up for it if you get hurt,” Mamie said. “Or if some sheriff hunts you down to take your life. You could end up in prison down at McAlester or dead like Pretty Boy’s bandit friend, Birdwell. Your mama would just be heartbroken if anything happened to you. So would Eddie and the girls. Think about them, Henry.”

Mamie might be a smart young lady, but she didn’t understand, not yet anyway.

“I am,” he said. “I’m doing this for them. I can’t let them be put out on the road without a home or go live with stingy old Uncle Ed. And I’m worn out watching them go to bed hungry or do without almost everything. They all need shoes and I don’t think poor little Vi’s ever worn a brand new dress.”

She grasped his hand and held it so tight it hurt but he liked the connection. “Let me help them, then. I can sew. I saved some of my teacher salary and I could buy some cloth. I wouldn’t have enough to pay off the farm, but I could make the girls some nice little dresses or something.”

“Honey, I appreciate it but I can’t let you spend your money on my folks. Mamie, you don’t understand how poor we are, do you?”

“I think I do.”

“What’d your family have for supper?”

His question seemed to surprise her, but she answered. “Mama fried up some salt pork and ‘taters. She opened up a jar of corn she canned last summer and made a nice apple pie with some dried apples. Why?”

“We ate green beans seasoned with old bacon grease and onions with cornbread,” he answered. “I don’t think any of us ate enough to fill our bellies or even liked it much, but by God we ate everything Mama cooked. Hunger don’t allow for being picky.”

Mamie’s expression shifted. “That’s all you had?”

Henry nodded. “Yeah and some nights, it’s even less. Mama meant her garden to see us through summer but the pickings are pretty slim. She waters it with the dish and bath water or it’d be gone, too. We don’t have anything left to butcher and the few chickens still alive and kicking won’t lay eggs. The milk cow died last winter and we haven’t kept pigs since Daddy died. I’d hunt but it’s too damn hot for the meat to be much good and ‘sides, everyone else’s about hunted the game till it’s gone. I pull a few fish out of the river once in a while, but not many fish left either.”

Where to find me:leeannwriter@gmail.com

Twitter: leeannwriter

Facebook: my personal page is Lee Ann Sontheimer Murphy plus I just kicked off an author page – From Sweet to Heat: The Romance of Lee Ann Sontheimer Murphy


Website/blog: http://leeannsontheimermurphywriterauthor.blogpspot.com

Blog: Rebel Writer: Lee Ann Sontheimer Murphy


Amazon author page: http://www.amazon.com/Lee-Ann-Sontheimer-Murphy/e/B004JPBM6I

Friday, August 24, 2012

Bracing for Hurricane Issac

It's that time of year where I always fret-- the threat of a Hurricane. By Sunday evening, I'll know whether or not Hurricane Issac will hit my home on the Mississippi Gulf Coast as a Category 2 Storm.

Friday, June 8, 2012

Songs from the heart

Hello, I'm giving away a copy of one of my earlier books at Rebel Ink Press, Songs from the heart. The person who has their favorite memory for the month of June will win a E-book copy of Heart. To see the other blog posts from my fellow RIP writers, see www.rebelinkpress.com/RebelReasoning/

Sunday, May 13, 2012


I took the liberty of redesigning my website! Hope everyone likes the new change!

Sunday, April 8, 2012

Sports Talk with MICHEL PRINCE

Michel Prince drops by to discuss her latest book at Rebel Ink Press, Chrysalis, which comes out on April 17.
KT: What’s your favorite sports to write about?
MP: I guess basketball because I have four books with basketball in them. It may just be because I spend almost every weekend from November to June in a gym watching it. I do really like writing football game scenes a lot too.
KT: You seem to know a lot about sports did you play or do you coach?
MP: I played volleyball from fourth grade through my sophomore year of college. I ran track from junior high through college and cross country just in college. And I hold coaching certificates in volleyball, football and track. Luckily, my husband is a student of the game and so I usually learn even more.
KT: Would you ever date any jocks like your character Oscar?
MP: Hell yes. He’s perfect in every way. Although I’d probably have an inferiority complex, but I love jocks there’s something about someone who truly commits to a sport.
KT: Chrysalis is a series, how many books have you already written?
MP: Four have been written. I do have a few other ideas but they would be from different characters perspectives.
KT: Is Chrysalis the first book you ever wrote? How long did it take to write it?
MP: Chrysalis is the first book. The first draft took three weeks. It’s the only book that truly poured out of me.
KT: Did you have to make changes to your book because of Paypal’s new rules?
MP: I changed the cover to make it more YA. If they push that other parts need to be changed I’d rather be on less vendors and keep my story true. Teenagers have sex. They touch each other. They explore. Removing those actions would bastardize the story.
KT: Are all the books you write in the YA genre?
MP: No. Chrysalis is actually a cross over series in that it the first two books are YA the third and fourth are adult. Also in July my Adult Paranormal Romance series The Frozen comes out.
KT: There are a lot of religious references in your book are they from research or experience?
MP: Both. I had to research a lot on the demon aspect of my book. Learning about Gaap and Lilith as well as the gods around the world.
KT: How do you react to a bad review?
MP: A pan of brownies. A lot of cussing. Then calm down and look at objectively.
KT: Are your character’s names difficult to come up with?
MP: The main characters names usually just come to me. I don’t know where Sharyn came from but originally it was spelled Sharon, but I figured I should change it because I have an in-law with that name.
KT: You have a character named Sharyn that’s pretty mean. Is she from experience or made up?
MP: Yes. Some of the things she’s said and done have been done to me and my spouse.
KT: What character that you’ve written do you want to punch the most?
MP: It should be Sharyn, but Jordan just has one of those faces you feel needs to be hit. Repeatedly and with much vigor.
KT: Have you ever seen yourself as a character in a book or movie?
MP: There’s a little of me in all my female characters.
KT: Is there any snobbery for your chosen genre?
MP: There is a little scoffing when you say Romance and everyone kids about YA, but with the success of the Twilight series people always hate. People connected with the books and that’s all that matters when it comes to writing.
Blurb  In the annals of dysfunctional families, the Chisholm’s are working their way to the top. Drug abuse, an unwed mother with multiple fathers, and the questionable cash flow for the 'pretty one'.   All this from a seemingly normal, two parent middle class family. But were the choices truly made of their free will?
Bad choices are a Chisholm family trait, one that confounds the youngest child, Ellie, who's trying to separate herself by making smart decisions. And falling for Oscar Jeffreys, the hottest guy at school, would be number one on the list of  Chisholm family disasters.  Yet the crazy part is it’s not a one sided attraction.  Somehow Ellie has caught Oscar Jeffreys’ eye.   Sure she could see the barriers between them.  Race, age, popularity.  They were at opposite ends of the spectrum.  But a demon set to destroy her family? She can't see that.  
Oscar provides security and acceptance Ellie never imagined she deserved.  As the passion of first love grows, Ellie honestly believes she has a chance to beat the odds and live a happy, normal life. Then her world collapses around her. With the help of a guardian angel, Ellie learns of a world that has unknowingly surrounded her for years.  And she'll have to find strength buried deep inside to save not only her future, but flush out and stop the demon in her midst.
And Ellie will have to learn that sometimes the hardest lesson about growing up is accepting that you're worth more.
Where to find Michel Prince: www.michelprincebooks.com

Friday, April 6, 2012


I'm part of the Easter Blog Hop hosted by Drea Becraft. The contest starts today and concludes at midnight on Easter Sunday. I'm giving away a E-book copy of Songs From the Heart to the person who had the best memory of Easter as a child! Memories can be about church, receiving a Easter basket and your favorite candy. Here's the link: http://thebloghopspot.com/event-page/.

Monday, April 2, 2012

Introducing.... MELISSA KEIR!

Melissa Keir dropped by Football Romance to talk romance and her upcoming book.
KT: I'm grateful you stopped by.
MK: Thank you very much for having me visit your blog today. When I’m not writing my own stories or helping other writers with editing their stories for publication, I’m an elementary teacher.
I’ve taught every grade level from preschool to sixth grade over the last twenty years. There is something wonderful to be found at each and every level of teaching. Teaching children to find a love of reading is an important part of my job. But for students to establish a long time love with books, they have to see the value in what books provide—a way to share stories through time and space.
Students need to understand that people write those stories and that they can be writers too.
One of my former students has actually published her own children’s story. Each day, my students write. They write to prompts like “What if you went to schoolat the beach?” or “What if your teachers was a crab?” They write stories about pictures of animals in nature, pictures of difference scenes, or of cartoon characters. The students write stories about their lives and their dreams.
Children see authors as celebrities. They want to be just like their heros, sharing stories about their nasty younger brothers or goofy older sisters. They even practice writing like their heros, using similar ideas, voice, and plots.
I teach my students that writing isn’t done in one sitting. We have to write, review, edit, review, re-write, edit again, and all these steps many times before publishing.
This is the hardest part for students today to understand. They want to sit down and in one hour have a completed story. The debate rages if it was always this way with children, or if technology changed their lives. Writing, good writing, doesn’t happen that way. Students have many different ways that they can edit their work. They can do it one on one with me (as their editor), they can do it with their classmates (peer editing), or use a check-list (self-edit).
But what does teaching reading or writing mean to authors? We all write about our own lives, dreams or a picture in our head. We take the pieces and weave them together into a story that will delight the reader. We find heros, authors that we look up to and stive to be more like. We try different genres and different writing styles as we hone our craft.
For some authors, getting the idea is the hardest part. Or we have the idea and can’t get it down on paper in the way we want or see it in our head. Some of us dread the editing process. It is like pulling teeth. In each of these many ways, we are not that different than the children I teach. We all dream about seeing our stories in print, making someone else laugh, and reaching out to touch the heart of our readers. And that is why I write and why I teach.
My story Second Time’s the Charm was released this past week. I’m very proud of this story. While it is my second published piece, it was the first story that I wrote and touches my heart. In fact, I found a lot of myself in the character of Lissa. And I hope you will see that love can be found where you least expect it.
Second Time’s the Charm:Lissa Vincent having gone through a rough divorce, her self confidence in shreds, puts her children and her job first, never thinking that she would find love again. But when she meets Alex, her best friend’s ex-husband, those thoughts fly out the window. Would you fall in love with your best friend’s ex-husband?
Where to find Melissa:

Monday, March 19, 2012

The return of.... Casey Crow!

Casey Crow returns to Football Romance to kickoff her DWAM release party and blog tour.She's also giving away a mini-MP3 player March 20 at www.caseycrow.com to celebrate the release of DWAM.
Thanks you so much for having me today, KT. I’m a big fan of your football romances and get a kick out of how we share unwavering love for the Crimson Tide! ROLL TIDE national champs! I’m super excited to announce that DANCE WITH A MILLIONAIRE will be released tomorrow!
KT: Will you please share a short bio with us?
Casey: I’m a Summa Cum Laude graduate from the University of Alabama with degrees in Business Management and Dance. I received a Master of Business Administration from the University of Mobile. In addition to writing “Sexy, Sassy & Southern” spicy contemporary and erotic romance, I also work as a dance choreographer, pageant coach, professional emcee and model, and certified Miss America preliminary judge. I guess my claim to fame is being a former Miss University of Alabama and NASCAR spokesmodel.
My debut CAN’T FAKE THIS, a f/m erotic, was named 2011 Best Contemporary at Love Romances Café, a Gayle Wilson Award of Excellence Finalist, and winner of a Gold Star from JERR.
KT: Tell us about you newest release.
Casey: My long-awaited DANCE WITH A MILLIONAIRE is coming March 20 with Siren Publishing. When I say "long-awaited," I'm not kidding. This was the first manuscript I ever wrote - meaning I started it in 2006. When I woke up, I immediately sat down at the computer and pounded out everything I could remember. I never picked up a "how to write" book or had this great vision to become a writer, although I'd been thinking for a while "I could that" every time I read a Harlequin.
I piddled around on the story for a few years, which was originally entitled PAS DE DEUX but my mom made me nix that since most people don't know what that means. When l I joined RWA in 2009 and got serious about getting published, I went back and rewrote it then let it sit as I got busy with other projects. Finally, I submitted it to Siren and now here it is. Talk about a dream come true - literally!
Here’s the blurb: Southern belle Campbell Layne is the rising star of the Manhattan Ballet Theatre, providing she lands the upcoming principal role. The stage heats up, however, when Rod Carrington steps in and teaches her more than she ever expected.
Campbell is determined to stay focused on the audition that will push her into stardom, but the dazzling attorney she meets at a gala proves to be a major distraction especially when he ends up being her professor in a college class she’s taking in her spare time. Campbell humiliates herself on their first date, but that doesn’t stop Rod from whisking her off to Italy and turning her into quite the vixen. Too bad he also had to use his powerful influence to secure the lead for her. Now she’ll never know if her talent was real or “bought” by the man she thought was the love of her life.
KT: You’ve long been a fan of romance novels. What prompted you to cross over to the writing side of things?
Casey: In high school and college, I only read text books so I didn’t even get started on romance until I was twenty-five. Oddly enough, my mom, an avid reader of all romance genres first encouraged me to write. About the time I started thinking, “I could do this,” she said, “You can.” Thank goodness too, because I love it and turned the hobby turned into a serious career two years ago.
KT: How do you approach your writing? Do you plot or go with the flow?
Casey: I’m a plotter for sure, but the outline is very vague so if my characters want to take a detour, I’m okay with that.
KT: Is there a genre you’d like to write?
Casey: I’d love to write YA. Over the years, I’ve worked with hundreds of teenagers either as a dance instructor or pageant coach, and it fascinates me how they flip flop between still being kids and being incredibly mature.
KT: What are your three major addictions in life?
Casey: Awe, I have to pick just three? Okay, dancing (I used to own a dance studio) and working out are major passions and they compensate my Barq’s root beer addiction. I also love pageants. Seriously - but not the Toddlers & Tiara glitz kind. I’ve been an emcee and pageant coach for over twenty years, and I still get such an adrenaline rush teaching modeling and interview to girls of all ages. It’s incredibly rewarding to see one’s self-confidence grow with each lesson. Finally, I’m not a huge TV watcher, but I’m addicted to Castle and Revenge.
KT: I’d love to hear more about your pageant life. What was that like?
Casey: As a dancer and gymnast, I was on stage my whole life, but I began competing in pageants at fifteen to prepare for Jr. Miss (now Distinguished Young Woman). I’ve done everything from glitz to natural. I prefer youth development programs where talent is the primary focus. I’ve competed in the Miss America and Miss Universe systems. I have to say it was pretty cool being Miss University of Alabama, but my most memorable reign was Miss Motorsports, where I got to be a NASCAR spokesmodel and hang out with all the famous drivers.
Pageants typically have a negative connotation, but the friendships, public speaking skills, and confidence I gained make me a firm believer in the many positive aspects they provide.
KT: What is one thing you’ve always wanted to do, but haven’t done?
Casey: Learn to play the violin, or as we say down South, the fiddle.
KT: If you cook, do crafty stuff, or have a hobby, please share the details with readers.
Casey: I do cook and love crafts, but considering I’m about four years behind on scrapbooking, I don’t think it counts if it stays in a box under the bed. I really enjoy playing pool, golf, and tennis, but never have the time to practice so I’m pitiful at all of them. The one thing I do make time to do is take a dance class each week. I’m in a class with a bunch of other teachers, former dance competitors, and even a couple of professionals so it’s not easy by any means. The best part is that we rock the house during recital time. Old ladies, apparently, still have it.
KT: What’s next for you?
Casey: I have two other manuscripts on submission right now with various agents and editors. HUSTLER’S DREAM is about a southern socialite pool shark who hustles the wrong guy, or is he? FEELS SO RIGHT is about a country music agent and her ex-boyfriend songwriter. I’m also half way finished with FAST DREAM, the sequel to HUSTLER’S DREAM, about a female NASCAR tire changer in love with the driver.
I swear these are not autobiographical! But, I’m passionate about the things I enjoy, and they invariably make their way into my writing. My tagline is “Sexy, Sass & Southern” and all my heroines are just that.
Here's an excerpt of DWAM:
“That’s well-rehearsed, Miss Layne. Tell me, though, do you turn on the southern belle charm for all your fans or only the gentlemen ones?”
Her mouth fell open, but she snapped it shut. “How dare you? “First of all, I’m from Alabama which makes the accent genuine, and secondly, that’s…the rudest, most ungentlemanly thing to say.”
“I never said I was gentleman and readily admit to be undeserving of your sweet façade. I’d much prefer the real you.”
She propped her hands on her hips. “And precisely what, may I ask, do you assume to be the real me, seeing as our acquaintance has a life span of what? Thirty seconds?”
Rod glanced at an expensive-looking gold watch. “Forty-five.” He stepped closer.
She did not see that coming and stumbled back only to become trapped between the wall and his body. The hard, cold stone competed against his warm, harder presence. Damn it, the latter won out. She ground her traitorous fingertips into the wall in an effort to prevent them from brushing away the stray curl that fell across his forehead.
The hem of his jacket brushed her hip as he moved in to splay his hand over her waist. The pressure built as he gathered her an inch closer. She caught a faint whiff of his woodsy cologne.
“In fact, I’d like to get to know every inch of you.” Another sharp tug had her chest pressed against him.
Her blood boiled in a delicious rhythm. Obviously, the vibrator thing was getting old if this jerk was turning her on. Campbell flexed her fingers and pushed against his shoulders. “Let go of me, you arrogant pig.” A lion, cougar, leopard—anything powerful—seemed a more apt description though.
Rod chuckled and loosened his hold, enough to insert his finger between them. It followed the line of fabric at her shoulder slowly, very slowly, across her chest. As he glided over her cleavage, he said, “You’re mistaken. It’s confidence I possess.”
“More like cockiness.” She couldn’t take her gaze off his finger or steer her attention from the hunger that swept through her so intensely she instinctively arched her back, lifting her breasts to beg for more.
“Either way, but I always get what I want, and in case you need me to spell it out” —he slid his finger up her throat to tilt her chin, forcing her to look at him—“I. Want. You.”
Her breath hitched. No, stopped. Campbell literally thought she might pass out, only she wouldn’t give him the satisfaction.
Feigning haughty sophistication wasn’t in her repertoire, but there was a first time for everything. She raised a brow and allowed her gaze to wander his body as he’d done to her. The black tux cut a dashing figure, making her mouth water for a taste of what laid beneath. His bowtie was a little askew. She reached to straighten it, brushing against his neck. She sensed, rather than saw, the restrained quickening of his jaw. She inwardly smiled, but those treacherous fingers battled back, wanting to still the muscle of his clean shaven jaw with a gentle caress. She balled her fists in reprimand, uncaring that her short nails dug into her palms.
Campbell shot him what she hoped was a contemptuous glare. “Take your hand off me.” She made a dramatic showing of enclosing her fingers, one at a time, around his wrist and tugged his finger away from between her boobs.
Nothing happened. Well, almost nothing. He managed to do that trick when one eyebrow lifts higher than the other.
She sighed loudly and exceedingly unladylike. Then she pulled. Hard.
Finally, he broke contact by approximately six inches when twelve would have been much closer to the acceptable personal space limit. Too late to hide her puckered nipples, she still folded her arms across her chest. “An apology would be appropriate at this time.”
“Ah, but then I’d have to, in fact, be sorry.”
He said that? Seriously? She stood there, gaping.
“What? No response? I assume that negates the possibility of you actually wanting an apology.”
Again, nothing. She felt like a fool, but her mind remained as blank as the sky on a cloudy night. So much for feigning haughty sophistication.
“Um…” Okay, it wasn’t a three-point goal in the final seconds of the game, but her voice hit a few decibels nevertheless.
Rod’s deep chuckle reverberated throughout the alcove as he captured both of her shoulders. He laughed at her. Worse, he was going to kiss her. She knew it. Right here, right now. In front of everyone. A complete stranger. Well, not completely, she knew his name at least. Knowing the first name made it all right, didn’t it?
Lord, what am I thinking? She did not go around kissing strangers. Hell, she didn’t go around kissing people she knew. What would her mama think? She’d die of shame, that’s what.
But heaven knew Campbell wanted to taste those beautiful, full lips. She closed her eyes and barely swallowed the lump stuck in her throat before licking her lips, preparing for the inevitable. He leaned in and…bypassed her lips altogether. Her eyes popped opened, and she experienced a moment of utter humiliation before all her attention once again focused on him. His cheek brushing hers as he brought his mouth to her ear.
Whispering in a low, sexy baritone, he said, “Forgive me, Campbell. I’m glad to see New York has not jaded you, and that you still maintain an impressive degree of sweet innocence. Combined with your beauty, that’s an irresistible combination.”
Holy gamolely. He’d called her beautiful. And innocent. Now, that was a compliment every girl wanted to hear. Actually, he was wrong, thanks to her so-called “boyfriend” at seventeen.
Unknowing how to respond, she lamely replied, “You’re forgiven, but how do you know my real name? Everyone here knows me by my stage name, Bella.”
“Let’s just say I’ve done my homework on you.”
Visit Casey at http://www.caseycrow.com Follow on Twitter @caseyecrow and Facebook Casey Crow DANCE WITH A MILLIONAIRE EXCERPTS
DWAM coming March 20 from www.SirenPublishing.com CAN’T FAKE THIS buy Kindle version on www.Amazon.com and all versions at Loose-Id.comCAN’T FAKE THIS Excerpt
See the CAN’T FAKE THIS book trailer

Monday, March 12, 2012

WELCOME BACK.... Lee Ann Sontheimer Murphy

Lee Ann Sontheimer Murphy returned to the Sports Romance Blog to discuss her latest book, In Love's Own Time.
Do you believe in ghosts? Lillian Dorsey doesn’t, at least not until she arrives at the Edwardian home she just inherited from her unknown grandfather. She never believed her mother’s tales of a ghost who haunted the place and her plan is to clean out the three story mansion, then sell it. But the house captivates her with its’ old-fashioned charm and soon she ponders making it her home, moving to the small time from the Kansas City area. Lillian comes across an intruder in her home, a dapper and handsome man dressed in old-fashioned garb as he plays the piano with skill. She orders him out but he insists he’s the original owner who died there in 1905. Her disbelief soon turns to an unlikely friendship – and more.
Relationships can be, well, complicated at the best of times but when your significant other is a ghost, complicated soars to new levels. It’s a little hard to seek a shot at that happily-ever-after thing when your man lacks a corporal body and vanishes when his energy levels drop. Sleeping in the room where he died over a hundred years ago has to be a real downer too.
But for a stubborn woman like Lillian, following your heart might not be impossible after all. Once she comes to terms with the reality Howard is both dead and a ghost, she decides to figure out how they could get around the facts.
When a moment of play acting, a pretend tea party as if Howard were alive and the calendar reads 1904 inspires Lillian to go purchase a vintage outfit to wear, she didn’t have any clue their little fantasy would turn real. But when the couple realizes they’ve somehow made it to 1904, they touch for the first time. Just when Lillian thinks they’ve accomplished the impossible, however, she finds herself back in the present.
She’s hard to stop, however. The one thing she learned is it can happen so she studies time travel and together they make a plan.
Here’s the blurb and an excerpt plus links:
There may be no place like home and nothing like love…..when history teacher Lillian Dorsey inherits a three story Edwardian brick mansion from the grandfather who banished her pregnant mother decades before, it’s a no brainer. She’ll visit the place, see it and sell it. Instead Lillian’s captivated by the beautiful home and intrigued by the ghost of the original owner, Howard Speakman. Soon she’s flirting with the charming, witty gentleman who’s been dead for more than a century and before long, they admit it’s a mutual attraction. Still, when she’s alive and he’s dead, any shot at being together seems impossible.
But where there’s a will, there’s a way….one afternoon while pretending to visit the past the impossible becomes a brief reality. If they visited 1904 before, Lillian knows they can do it again and if so, she can prevent Howard’s untimely death. With a combination of love, powerful hope, and stubborn will, Lillian bends time to her will and returns to the summer of 1904. But Howard’s death looms ahead and if she’s to find a happy ending, she must save him from his original death.
“Damn!” The aggravation would kill her if the suspense didn’t. Love relationships were hard enough with a flesh and blood partner but Howard’s disappearing act was beyond difficult. There must be some way, she thought, to cross the boundaries of time so she and Howard could be together and Lillian resolved to figure out how.
Although she would rather bawl with frustration, she took action. The local library was the only place which might have the materials she sought so she Googled Einstein’s theories on one of the public computers. What she read led to her read about Goedal, the other Princeton scientist she mentioned to Howard and to others, everyone from Stephen Hawking to Igor D. Novikov. A search of simply “time travel” linked to Washington Irving’s legend of Rip Van Winkle, King Arthur’s daughter Gwenth, to Carroll’s Alice, and even to Sleeping Beauty. The mish-mash of information was confusing but as she sorted through it, reading and considering it all, a sense of excitement crept over her. Repeatedly from very diverse sources, she read time travel might be possible, not from crackpots or harebrained pseudo scientists but from people at the top of their field.
No one explained how it worked but most acknowledged the possibility. As she surfed the World Wide Web, she jotted down books to read and movies to watch. Dean Koontz wrote a novel about time travel called Lightning and a woman named Diana Gabaldon penned an entire series of novels based on time travel. Movies like Kate and Leopold and Somewhere in Time, the last based on a novel by Richard Matheson, intrigued her.
Lost in research, Lillian didn’t realize how long she’d been there until the librarian tapped her shoulder.
“I’m sorry but we close in fifteen minutes.”
Head aching with fatigue, mind whirling with information, she gathered up her copious notes and walked out to the parking lot. Her car was alone beneath the vapor lights and although she was weary, Lillian was too restless to go home. Instead, she drove across town and up the business highway to where Howard’s farm once existed.
The neat orchards she hoped to find were gone and instead a housing subdivision sprawled over the fertile ground, the foundation of Howard’s fortune. Most of the ranch style homes dated to the late 1950’s or early 1960’s but on the far edges, newer homes ringed the original neighborhood. The railroad track she recalled from her dream and the hills with a few gnarled old apple and peach trees were all remaining of the former fruit farm. The idea brought sadness and Lillian knew Howard’d feel the same. As her headlights swept through the subdivision, she searched for any other signs of Speakman’s Farm but found none so she retreated to Seven Oaks.
In the humid summer night, her fatigue felt like a heavy blanket and Lillian was almost too tired to drag herself up the stairs. As she wandered through the dark downstairs rooms, she called his name but Howard didn’t answer. Missing him was an ache and so weary, emotions drained, she lay down across the bed, too tired to even undress and fell asleep.
Shadows of the tree branches made lacy silhouettes across the ceiling of the bedroom when she woke, moving shadows dancing with the wind. Although she’d no clue what time of day it might be, Lillian felt too somnolent to rise so she lay, tangled in the bedspread and tried to sort her myriad emotions. Joy at Howard’s declaration of love dimmed when she considered the difficulties of their unique relationship and a strange prickling delight came as she remembered visiting 1904. As the wind rushed through the trees like whispers, she struggled to make sense of time travel, to figure out a way to make it possible on a permanent basis.
Details, theories, and thoughts warred until she sat up, limbs protesting the motion after too many hours of deep sleep, with a revelation. They didn’t need the books, she wouldn’t have to know the properties of relativity after all, and there was no set format certain to succeed. It didn’t matter because she’d done it. If they managed once to travel to the past without trying, they could and would by design.
“Elementary, my dear Watson,” Lillian murmured, stretching as she swung her legs to the floor. “It’s simple, really.”
With one ear cocked for any sound to indicate Howard’s return, Lillian bathed and dressed, brushing her teeth to rid her mouth of an unpleasant film coating both teeth and gums. She picked up her watch from the dresser and nodded. It was just now noon; she’d not slept away as much of the day as she’d guessed, a good thing since she needed to handle many details. Singing, she floated with elation downstairs to make coffee and a list. Time travel was possible and she’d do it or die. Either way, she’d end up Howard.
By the time, he appeared, dapper in a blue and white checked Madras shirt worn over dark brown trousers held up with suspenders striped the same colors as the shirt, she’d scribbled half a notebook full of things to do or buy or look up. Intent on the next item, she didn’t realize he was with her until she felt his spirit caress, light as a breath, across the back of her neck.
“What are you plotting, my dear heart?” He asked, sitting down across the kitchen table.
“We can do it, Howard.” She put down her pen to reach out for his hand and then remembered she couldn’t hold it. “Time travel, I mean. All we have to do is believe it and live it. If we could do it when we were just pretending, we can do it. Everything has to be just right and I’ve so many things to get and things to do but we can. Isn’t it wonderful?”
Find me at
Facebook: Lee Ann Sontheimer Murphy
Twitter: @leeannwriter
A Page In The Life: leeannsontheimermurphywriterauthor.com
Rebel Writer: Lee Ann Sontheimer Murphy
Purchase Links:
I also have a book trailer here:

Saturday, February 4, 2012

Happy pre-Valentine's Day

Getting everyone in the mood for Valentine's Day. I'm having a contest on my blog that starts next Saturday and concludes on February 14 at Midnight CST.
During that time, I'll be running a contest on what's your favorite Valentine Day sweet. I'll pick a winner the day after Valentine Day. The winner will receive a PDF copy of my book, Careless Hearts, published at Rebel Ink Press. I'm honored to be part of www.thebloghopspot.com. I owe a lot of thanks to Drea Becraft!

Sunday, January 29, 2012


P.K. Morris dropped by to promote her debut, A Single Man's Valentine, at Rebel Ink Press, which comes out this week!
K.T: What was the first thing you ever wrote?

P.K.: When I was six or seven I was visiting my grandmother on the island she lived, and still lives, on. We were in her backyard and found evidence of deer and later saw a doe with two fawns. That’s when I decided to write a little book about the doe and her twins. I even illustrated it and my mom “published” it at the printing place she worked at. Really, they were just photo copies but it was exciting to me.

K.T.: Who runs the show you or your characters?

P.K.: In my own little dream world I run the show. But in reality my characters take over after I get the first few sentences out. It’s like they have their own little lives to live.

K.T.: What books do you have out or are getting ready to release?

P.K.: My short story, A Single Man’s Valentine, out on February 3rd, 2012, is my first published story of any length. It’s being released in a Valentine’s Day themed anthology entitled Tempting Cupid and it’s being published by Rebel Ink Press.

K.T.: What do you like to do when you’re not writing?

P.K.: I like to read, knit, listen to music or see it live. Or just veg out on the couch

K.T.: One guilty pleasure?

P.K.: My music. I listen to almost anything and everything and would probably be laughed at for some of it. Those bands / singers are definitely my guilty pleasure. LOL.


Blog: http://pkmorris.wordpress.com
Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/Author.PK.Morris
Twitter: http://twitter.com/pk_morris
Email: pk.morris@comcast.net

Saturday, January 21, 2012


The New Year is off to a great start for me! My Love Holiday Series at Red Rose Publishing reached the Daily's best seller list. End of the Rainbow got the highest spot at fifth. Starting Over moved into seventh and Christmas Blues made the Top 10, as well. I've never had three books in the Top 10 at the same time. All seven of my published books at Red Rose are best-sellers.Thanks to my ever-growing fan base, family, Red Rose Publisher Wendi Felter and fellow authors who's taken the time to read and critique my work!