Why? Because some day you might be able to use them. Now bear with me, people. We’ve all written a sentence, a paragraph, a page, etc., and then decided it wasn’t what we really wanted to write. It didn’t work. So we hit delete and moved on. Right? Wrong. Make sure you keep a file for all those words. You never know when you might be able to use them.

I was talking to an author a few weeks back and she happily announced to me that she’d cleared her files of all those books she’d started where she’d only gotten down a chapter or a couple of hundred words on, and then abandoned. I almost cried.

I keep everything. And everything I keep also sits in my brain and as I’m writing, suddenly I’ll remember something I’d written somewhere else and filed away and pull it up. Voila. It fits beautifully with the new work when it hadn’t with the old work.

Not only that, but just because an idea for a story you had last month, last year, a decade ago didn’t work out then, doesn’t mean you can’t look at it now and find something of value there. I’ve got shorts, novellas, and books a plenty sitting in my files. A major stockpile. LOL

A stockpile that’s paying off it seems. I received an offer of contract on one from Ellora’s Cave. And I was very happy about that. It started out as a freebie read, but the characters wanted something bigger and they got it! Such a sweet little Valentine’s Day tale, so it won’t be available until 2011.

In the meantime, I’ve dusted off a couple of more in my files, tweaked and fiddled with them a bit and off they went. One of those books came about as a result of an exercise on the Avoid Writer’s Hell Workshop group. I asked writers to work up a five-hundred-word excerpt in which they described a character’s job without actually naming the job. The purpose was, of course, to make sure the writing was clear and concise. We had a lot of fun guessing. That five-hundred-word excerpt of mine turned into a fifty-thousand-word novel. But more about those lost books on a later blog and what happens to them. *wink*

So don’t throw away your words. Keep them safe. You never know what publisher might just think they’re worthy of publishing. And those little snippets you save always come in handy when you’re blocked!

I hope everyone is happily writing!

The Wild One

The Wild One by Gail Roarke

Available now from Cobblestone Press.

They always say to write what you know. Well, I’ve been to events like this. So….

Blurb: When Angela and her two closest friends drop in on a hotel sex party, it’s an eye-opening experience. It’s also more than her friends can handle. They don’t stay long.

But Angela isn’t content to continue barhopping with her friends, telling tales about how naughty they were to briefly witness such debauchery. She returns alone to experience the debauchery for herself and discover if it’s as much fun as it seemed.

Excerpt:

Angela crowded close behind Lourdes as she stopped abruptly in front of the hotel room door. Michelle bumped into Angela and giggled nervously. Angela couldn’t blame her. She could feel nervous giggles poised to escape her own lips.

“This is it,” Lourdes said. The glance she gave Angela and Michelle suggested that she wasn’t quite as calm as she’d like them to believe. Nonetheless, Lourdes knocked firmly on the door. Angela could hear the faint sound of conversation through the door. It didn’t sound like a sex party.

The door opened a crack, and a short, redheaded woman peeked out from behind it. She looked them over, and they must have passed inspection because she backed up, opening the door and silently inviting them inside.

Angela followed Lourdes and Michelle into the room. She glanced back as the redhead closed the door behind them. The woman was short, busty and naked. Silver piercings gleamed in her nipples. She noticed Angela’s look. “Hi, I’m Emily.”

“Angela.” She wasn’t sure what to say next. What do you say to a naked woman you’ve just met? A familiar squeal of greeting saved her from having to find out. She turned to see Vicki leap up from a sofa to greet her three newly arrived friends.

“You made it!” Vicki sounded surprised as well as pleased. She’d tried to get them to come to the party with her, but they had turned her down. It was only after spending some time club hopping that Lourdes had suggested taking Vicki up on her offer. Just, you know, to see what a sex party looked like.

Angela had secretly wanted to go all along, but she hadn’t had the nerve to do it. When Lourdes suggested it again, emboldened by alcohol, Angela had agreed that it sounded like fun. Together, they’d convinced Michelle to give it a try.

Vicki had hugged Lourdes, and now she threw herself at Angela. She was wearing a pair of lace panties and nothing else. “Hey, girl,” Vicki said. “I didn’t think you’d show.”

“We almost didn’t.” Angela gave Vicki a quick hug. “But Lourdes insisted.”

“Me? You wanted to too!”

Vicki laughed and turned to greet Michelle with a hug. “Well, you’re here. That’s what counts. Let me introduce you around.”

Angela looked around, taking in the room as Vicki made introductions. It was a fairly standard hotel room. A bathroom just inside the door to the hall, a king-size bed, and a dresser opposite the bed. The dresser was covered with food and drink—a variety of snack foods, dips, a bucket of chicken, several large bottles of soda, a couple of wine bottles, and disposable plates and utensils.

The back of the room, normally occupied by a small writing desk and chair, was crowded with half a dozen chairs obtained from elsewhere. The chairs formed a rough circle, and about half of them were occupied. Three women and one man occupied the conversation circle. None of them wore more than a towel.

The connecting doors to the rooms on either side of this one were propped open. The sounds of sex drifted through a doorway. Angela couldn’t see into there from her position, but she could see into the other room. It contained two large beds, both unoccupied.

“You’ve met Emily,” Vicki said. Emily waved. Vicki named names, but Angela wasn’t listening. It sounded like at least two women were getting fucked next door, and she was intensely curious—and embarrassed to reveal that fact by walking over to the doorway to look.

Vicki took care of that. “And in this room,” she said, pausing in the doorway, “we have the rest of the gang.”

Lourdes, Angela and Michelle all eyed one another for a moment then collectively walked over to join Vicki, who stepped into the next room. They followed. Angela felt her pulse race in anticipation. She’d had sex and even seen some porn. But she’d never seen real people doing it.

Fast Friends by Gail Roarke at Cobblestone Press.

Blurb:

Stan Ryan is pleased to find a lovely new neighbor, Rachel Hartman, moving in across the street. The attraction between them is immediate, powerful, and entirely mutual.

They have a number of interests in common, including running. They also share a competitive streak. Stan’s metaphorical pursuit of Rachel becomes literal when she agrees to a friendly wager.

If he can catch her, he can have her. But first he must catch her….

Excerpt:

Stan Ryan stepped out onto his front lawn dressed for a run. It was early on a clear, bright, autumn morning in Denver. The sky was bright but the neighborhood was still in shadow, the sun barely peeking above the houses to the east. Across the street, a U-Haul truck was parked at the curb. Stan remembered seeing the SOLD sign go up a few weeks ago. It looked as if his new neighbors had arrived.

Stan did a few limbering up exercises while he observed the new arrivals. He wondered how many were his new neighbors—there were two women and one man unloading boxes from the truck. Good odds that at least one of the new arrivals was a woman—and both of them looked good.

Deciding that there was no time like the present, Stan strolled across the street to introduce himself.

The large young man and one of the young women were carrying a sofa down the ramp from the truck. The man was over six feet and well muscled. His companion was of average height with shoulder-length dark hair, and didn’t look nearly strong enough to carry her end of the sofa.

“Can I help you with that?” Stan stepped in next to the young woman. She gave him a wary glance, then smiled.

“Sure,” she said. “You live around here, I take it.”

Stan grabbed hold of the sofa, sharing the load with the woman. “Right across the street. Stan Ryan. I’d offer to shake, but…”

“I understand,” the young woman said. “Leah Wright.”

“So, we’re going to be neighbors?” The possibility didn’t displease Stan.

Leah smiled. The man holding the other end of the sofa laughed. “No, not us.” She glanced toward the open front door of the house. “She’s your new neighbor.”

Stan let his gaze follow hers. A tall young woman with red hair exited the house. She was dressed in a black warm-up suit and ball cap. A red ponytail was threaded through the opening of the cap in back, bobbing with every step. Even at this distance, her green eyes were arresting.

Read the rest of this entry »

It’s the holiday season, and one of the things that I like to do is make up goofy songs to the tunes of well-known Christmas carols. It’s silly, but it’s fun and helps me stay in the spirit of the season. Like the start of this little gem…

On the first day of Christmas my kitty gave to me…
a knocked over Christmas tree.

On the second day of Christmas my kitty gave to me…
two hairballs and a knocked over Christmas tree.

On the third day of Christmas my kitty gave to me…
three french sneezes, two hairballs, and a knocked over Christmas tree. (My cat sneezes a lot, okay?)

On the fourth day of Christmas my kitty gave to me…
four catnip mice, three french sneezes, two hairballs, and a knocked over Christmas tree.

On the fifth day of Christmas my kitty gave to me…
five sparkly poops!
Four catnip mice, three french sneezes, two hairballs, and a knocked over Christmas tree.

Alas, I didn’t get to finish my masterpiece of holiday music because I laughed at my own silliness so hard I lost my train of thought.

So, what verses would you put in your silly holiday songs? Or maybe help me finish mine!

Winter Festival at Pink Petal Books

And don’t forget about our Winter Festival at Pink Petal Books. It runs through the 23rd of December, so there are still lots of goodies to be given away.

Because, as the Kentucky Derby showed on Saturday, sometimes the little guys can score one against big guys with deeper pockets. And the cool thing is, when that happens, it’s probably an even bigger win, because it revitalizes interest in the sport (or in the publishing industry).

For those who don’t follow horse racing (and shame on you), a $9500 gelding (from Canada) named Mine that Bird came from way behind to stun the field. I suspect, in reality, that there were probably traffic jams, which created the perfect opportunity. But that’s okay. Because things like that happen in both industries. And it’s a good thing when it does.

Why? Because it inspires hope. Read the rest of this entry »

Romance exists down a gravel road

While visiting our place in Southern Missouri last month, my partner and I decided on a rainy, and rather chilly, day to go driving around. We were less than 50 miles from Arkansas. Why not go? Then we could say we’d been to Arkansas. Since it was too cold and rainy to stand on our land and discuss where to put things, or hang out and read, and a drive sounded lovely. So, since we both like long drives, we went, and discovered a very beautiful lake and more gorgeous Ozark scenery.

However, on the drive down, imagine my surprise when I passed a road sign that said “Romance 2 Miles.” Funny, I thought, looking at my partner, we have romance back at the hotel in the Jacuzzi suite. Given that I write, and publish, romantic fiction, I knew I had to get a picture of me (and maybe even my car with the magnetic signs advertising Pink Petal Books) by the Romance city limits sign. So, on the way back, we found our sign for Romance (after thinking we lost it, because we thought Romance could be found closer to the Arkansas border than it was) and turned.

Romance, it seems, exists down a gravel road. (And no, Lex, not with two farmers and a couple of pigs as you suggested. Unless that’s something they don’t tell the locals.) Not wanting to go down a gravel road in the middle of nowhere with no signs, we turned around, and alas, didn’t find Romance, Missouri, that day. (I did find out later, from some friends who are locals, that yes, Romance does exist down a gravel road, and there isn’t much more there except a church (inspirational romance?) and a couple of houses (contemporary romance?).

But it got me to thinking, how many other states have a town named Romance?

Well, it turns out three. And, looking at the geography of them, I can say that as far as I’m aware, Pink Petal Books is THE closest publisher to Romance. Missouri. Arkansas. And Wisconsin.

Further research revealed that all three towns are unincorporated, so there’s a good chance that if the towns aren’t on a gravel road, they’re probably near one. And I suppose that’s a metaphor for life. After all, most of us don’t know where romance is. It’s not on any major maps. And we have no clue how to get there. We just happen to stumble across it one day and decide that we rather like the destination. And maybe, just maybe, we find it on a drive to Arkansas.