It’s only now I’ve recalled a pithy little line I included in the special features for The Royal Talisman:

“I have also been accused of an inability to write anything short to save my life.”

Good thing a hanging didn’t depend on the turn of that phrase.  Because I blithely included in the description for the Beloved Bloody Time series this disaster of a sentence:

“The books are short.”

Was it me that really said that?

What was I thinking?   I must have been on catnip at the time.

Anyway, here’s the very good news:  I’m closing in on the finish line for Byzantine Heartbreak, the second book of the series.  I can see the checkered flag from here, and if I can finish up my blog posts for the week fast enough, I might even finish the first draft this weekend.

That’s somewhat iffy, though, as Mark is wrestling here in Edmonton this weekend, so I’m going to be spending the day at the arena, and even though I spend the day with my laptop on my knees, I don’t usually get a lot of writing done.  I do get a lot of talking done, though!

But, back to my sad tale of my inadequacies as an author.

Byzantine Heartbreak was supposed to be short.  A fast, snappy read to match Bannockburn Binding, full of hot love scenes, action, tension and suspense.

Well, it’s got all that and more.  It’s just got a lot more of it than I’d anticipated.  Like…nearly twice as much.

Oops.

But, more good news.  One of the glories of self publishing is that I can take these sorts of snafus in stride.  I wrote a book twice as long as it was planned to be?  No problems.  We’ll just publish a book twice as long!  (‘We’, you understand, being ‘me, myself & I’.)

I imagine the length will shorten down a bit once I edit and tidy up the prose.  But at the moment it’s a plus-sized novel and I’m estimating it will be around the 400 page mark by the time I’m done.   That’s a hefty tome by anyone’s standard.  I think, even with hard pruning, it’s still going to be a long novel.

I’m not going to cut it in half or anything drastic like that just to maintain a series uniformity or, heaven forbid, a market price.  The story needs to take up whatever room it needs to be told well.  I have that freedom now.  So you get a fully developed story and characters, and you don’t get short-changed.

Here’s a snippet.  Warning: frank language ahead!

An Excerpt From: BYZANTINE HEARTBREAK
Copyright © TRACY COOPER-POSEY, 2012
All Rights Reserved

“Why’d’you say that?” Ryan asked.  “He’s a good man.”

“’cause he’s a vamp hater,” Cáel replied.  He shook his head.  “A great man, ‘cept for he’s flawed.”

Ryan was staring at him.  “That’s…he comes off like he’s Henry Kissinger.  How could you know that?”

Cáel shrugged.  “We were lovers for nearly a year.  Then I found out.”  He shuddered and drank.  He reached for the bottle to refill, and realized that Ryan was still staring at him.

“Lovers?  You?” Ryan said.

“Think you’ve got a corner on the market, Irishman?”  Cáel topped up Ryan’s glass.  “Not everyone goes for poetic lilts, you know.”

Ryan half-laughed.  He picked up his drink.  “So…what is this, then?  Are we on a date?”

Cáel’s stomach seemed to drop out from his body with a sickening, electrifying rush.  It had nothing to do with the whiskey.  He let his hand drop away from the glass and looked at Ryan, wishing his heart would quieten.  “Do you want it to be?”

Ryan was sitting motionless in the chair, the forgotten whiskey glass held in mid-air.  His eyes were narrowed, all emotion shielded.  After a moment, he gave a tiny shrug, and his mouth lifted in a little smile.  “You’ve gotta know, Stelios, I haven’t had a lover for centuries.  Not since—“

“Bullshit,” Cáel replied.

Ryan’s eyes widened, losing their guarded expression.  The surprise was quite clear.  He put his glass back on the bar.

Cáel didn’t give him time to pull his defense shield back together.  “You’ve had plenty of liaisons and partners, and a ton of sex, and that’s just in the 23rd century that Lyle Bean could find out about.  Do you want me to actually name names?”

Ryan opened his mouth to speak.

Cáel jumped in again.  “It doesn’t matter, anyway.  Because you’re hiding behind a distinction.  You don’t mind hot sweaty sex with whoever appeals to you whenever you feel like it, but what you really mean when you say you haven’t had a lover in centuries is that you haven’t fallen in love.  You haven’t had a relationship that lasted longer than a week.  You haven’t had the guts to try, and that’s pretty sad, isn’t it?”

Ryan was breathing hard, his eyes narrowed with anger.  But that was natural reaction.  Cáel had just kicked him in the guts.  Now he had to get him past the moment.

Cáel knocked back his drink and put the glass on the bar with a rap.  “Let’s get rid of the tap-dancing, because we both know how to do it too well, and we could talk me into a too-early grave with diplomatic waltzing.”  He took a breath, to steady himself.  “Do I want to fuck you, Ryan?  Yes.”

____________

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My MMF futuristic paranormal time travel romance, Bannockburn Binding, has just popped up on the Barnes and Noble site this morning.  Alas, without a blurb, story descriptor, category or anything to tell you what it is other than it’s mine.

I thought that, if it had popped up finally on Barnes and Noble, it might have generated on the other retail sites, so I wandered over to Sony and Apple to take a look and yes, it was there, too.  And lo and behold, it’s even at Kobo, which is usually weeks behind at getting books up.

So I’m linking you to the book’s page on my site, first, so you can read the blurb and excerpt there, before linking over to Barnes and Noble, or before choosing your preferred non-Amazon retailer.

Happy Saturday!

Cheers,

Tracy.

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Stop #5 of the Bannockburn Binding book tour.

I’m visiting Fang-Tastic Books, and yes, I’m talking about the undead again.  Given the blog’s raison d’être *is* the fanged ones, it seemed only appropriate to use them as my subject again.  The topic this time?  “Don’t Like Apple?  Switch to DOS and Become a Vampire.”  Obscure, huh? :)   Trust me, it all makes sense once you read the post.

There’s also another never-before seen excerpt (unless you’ve bought the book, but that doesn’t count), so do stop in and say hello.  And yes, I’m giving away books, still.

____________

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Stop #3 of the Bannockburn Binding book tour.  Romancing the Darkside are hosting me today.

Swing by for an excerpt that hasn’t been seen anywhere else, and drop a line saying hello. I’m giving away a copy of Blood Knot today, too!

____________

Also, a brief housekeeping note, because I’m so squeezed for posts over the next few weeks, this is the only place I can get it in.  Recently, I did a big Spring clean up of the categorized links in the sidebar, updating them according to the criteria — they were getting a bit out of date.  There’s quite a few new entries, too.

Have a browse.

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I’m at The Bookish Snob today for the next stop of the Bannockburn Binding book tour.

Stop by to say hello and another chance to win a copy of Blood Knot.  I’m talking about why time travel romances wouldn’t work out in real life.

See you there!

Tracy

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Forgive me for the size of the cover, which is taking over the post here.  I really wanted you to get a good chance of checking out the hero’s eyes.  They’re something else, aren’t they?

If you’re reading this post on a handheld, or via email, or through a media that has crunched the cover image down to matchbox size, I encourage you to follow the link back to the original post on my site and have a good look at the details of this cover when it’s blown up to full size.  It’s absolutely stunning how much Dar Albert, the designer, gets into it.

I told her my hero’s eyes were catch-your-breath blue.  Boy, did she deliver!

And also check out the embroidering detail on the heroine, Bian’s, sleeves.  Dar creates all this herself.

Anyway, in case the subject line didn’t tip you off, I spent all day yesterday chained to my desk, plus I think I ended up nailing Dar to her desk for most of her Saturday, too, finalizing the cover, while I got The Royal Talisman formatted and released.

Ta-dah!  It is now officially available.

You can get The Royal Talisman in Kindle, ePub, RTF, LRF (Sony), PDB (Palm, from Smashwords), Plain Text,  PDF, Palm DOC/iSolo (From All Romance Ebooks), Microsoft Reader, Mobipocket (.prc), Rocket.

And with a small bonus.

The Royal Talisman used to be Masquerade’s Mate.  I have spent the last few weeks editing and adding scenes and wordage (there’s a much longer explanation about this inside the book).  I added so much, in fact, that The Royal Talisman is no longer a novella.  It’s it’s a short book that can be printed in its own volume.

So as this is my “Author’s Edition” I could add all the special features into the stand alone print edition.

Life is good.

I’ll add the blurb and an excerpt below that isn’t from the book’s page.

Enjoy.

_____________

It is 1884 and France is at war with China.  Stuart Sutherland-Bruce returns to England after a posting in China as a member of the English diplomatic corps.  He meets the astonishingly beautiful Bian, an exotic woman who turns his life upside down with the power of his desire for her.  As she continues to astonish him at every turn with the unexpectedness of her life and her responses to him, he falls deeply in love with her.

But Bian did not wander into Stuart’s life accidentally.  She has orders to become intimate with him and prove he has been giving English secrets to the Chinese.  Yet as she works her spell on Stuart, she learns he does not seem to be the traitor her British superiors assure her he is.

Bian is caught in a trap:  If she reveals to Stuart her real — and shocking — identity, she will lose the man she loves.  If she honours Stuart’s highest values and does her duty, then Stuart will be tried for espionage and hanged.

__

An Excerpt From: THE ROYAL TALISMAN
Copyright © TRACY COOPER-POSEY, 2012
All Rights Reserved

Patrick’s butler returned with a morning gown and other essentials, which allowed Bian to appear in public once more. Dressed in a dark purple velvet suit, which offered some protection against the damp wind gusting along the streets, Bian climbed into her carriage and snuggled under the lap robe. She gave directions for Madame Evamy’s on Bond Street, with a sigh. It was the only establishment she knew. Madam Evamy would have to provide the props she needed to verify her sudden urge to replenish her wardrobe.

Bond Street was as busy as usual. The damp air rising from the Thames and whistling down the street had not discouraged business in the slightest.

Bian’s driver dropped the steps for her and handed her out, along with a caution in his rough accent, “Wotch it, Miss Bian. I couldn’t get no closer and the gutters are a right mess.”

She took a long step on to the footpath and looked up.

Stuart was there.

Bian smothered her gasp of shock with her gloved hand, staring up at him. He towered over her, large in his dark overcoat. His hair was ruffled and his chin unshaved. He looked like he had gone for a month without sleep.

“Dear lord! Stuart! Where did you come from? You startled me.”

His hands were pushed deep into his pockets. “Who are you?” he asked. His voice was as rough as his chin. “Why can I not stop thinking of you?”

She looked around for observers. Her driver stood with the carriage door open, watching with a wary eye. “It’s all right,” she assured him, for he looked like he wanted to leap to her defence. It wouldn’t be the first time he had wielded his blackjack for her and she knew the damage he could inflict. “I know this man.”

“Ye sure, miss? ’e don’t look all that good t’me.”

“I’m sure. But wait a moment.” She turned back to Stuart. “Where have you been, to look as you do?” Genuine concern pushed the question from her. He looked like he had been to hell and back.

“Following you,” he rasped. “I needed to know…needed to…” He stepped closer to her and cupped her cheek with a hand that trembled. “God, who are you? I’ve not slept since that night—”

It was more than she wanted her driver to hear. She glanced over her shoulder but the driver was staring at the passing traffic, apparently stone deaf.

“Come,” she told Stuart, tugging at his sleeve. “Come with me.” She climbed back into her carriage and gestured for him to board, too. She knew there was a risk she would be seen in a carriage alone with a man but didn’t care. The raw emotion pouring from him was making her own heart sing with joy and her insides roil with need. It didn’t matter that this man had betrayed his country. That she was here in London to find proof of his deeds that would survive cross examination in court became a distant fact she could barely bother acknowledging, when before it had driven her every action.

She could only feel the pleasure of being with him, even as dishevelled as he was. His ragged, exhausted, driven state sent a shiver of excitement through her. She had brought him to this.

She settled back into her corner of the bench and spoke quietly to her driver, who stood patiently at the door. “The townhouse.”

“No,” Stuart said sharply, as he sat beside her. He gave the driver an address that she recognized.

“Your house?” she said. “My reputation would not withstand the impact if I were seen entering it without a chaperone.”

“I suspect your reputation has survived far more than a peccadillo of this magnitude,” Stuart said, with a piercing glance at her.

She bit her lip, then nodded to her driver, who tugged at his hat brim and shut the door.

________

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Stop #1 of the Bannockburn Binding book tour starts today with Fiction Vixen.

Swing by for an excerpt that hasn’t been seen anywhere else, and drop a line saying hello.  I’m giving away a copy of Blood Knot today, too!

See you there!

Tracy

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Mark was the one that pointed the nomination out to me, which is staggering, under the circumstances.  He noticed one of his contacts on Facebook talk about missing out on a CAPA nomination this year.  He remembered that the CAPAs are a big deal in the romance world, and flipped over to The Romance Studio’s website to check the nominations, and then almost broke his neck hurrying downstairs to tell me that Blood Knot had been nominated for Best Paranormal Romance, for 2011.

Sometimes I really do think he’s worth keeping…  :)

I actually missed all the announcements for this, which is the staggering part.  The nominations were announced on December 15th.  The winners in each category will be announced on February 14th — Valentine’s Day — next year.

The Romance Studio have done away with the separate “erotic” categories this year.  Erotic and “normal” paranormals are all in together (all other categories have also been blended, too).  I think this is significant:  Erotic romance has become mainstream and normalized.

I don’t for a moment expect to win.  Shiloh Walker is one of the nominees, just to start.  The rest of the nominees are a who’s who of paranormal romance authors in both legacy and epublished romance.  Interestingly, I’m one of only two indie authors who made the list of nominees.  I’m tickled pink about that, and in this case, being nominated really is honour enough.

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My best wishes to everyone who celebrated Christmas Day yesterday, and for everyone who got the day off from work, I hope you made the best of it.

Of course, I’m writing this somewhere in the past, so I’m not sure yet if I made a very good day of it or not, but I intend to!  My 2010 Christmas was a personal low, so I have every intention of making up for it with a bang this year.  If I manage to pull it off with a superlative highlight or two I may pop back into this post with pictorial evidence.

Working notes…

In one sense, I’m not working at all.  Not at the day job.  For the first time in – wow, three years! – I actually get to have a break at Christmas, instead of just (maybe) getting Christmas day off, then heading right back into the trenches.  This year I get a whole precious five days off.  Even Mark’s two whole weeks off doesn’t bother me.  Five days…

That means, of course, I’ll be writing my ass off.  So I’ll be working at the real job just as hard as my family will let me get away with it.  (Or as hard as any really good Christmas present don’t distract me from the latest book.)

The latest book, of course, is Byzantine Heartbreak.  You haven’t been introduced to this one yet.  It’s the second in the Beloved Bloody Time series (Bannockburn Binding, which has just been released, was the first).

I’ve been working on Heartbreak in between buying Christmas presents, making Christmas presents, wrapping Christmas presents and working.  One day, I must tell you a few of my adventures, writing on the bus to and from work.  Very interesting.  In fact I’m writing this on the bus right now, and the guy next to me is trying very hard to pretend he’s not reading my screen…ooops, he just got off!  That taught him… [wicked grin]

For now, here’s the blurb and a short excerpt from Byzantine Heartbreak.

Enjoy the rest of your holiday break, if you’re lucky enough to get one.  If you’re working, may your tips be stupendous.

__________

Nyarra Ybarra is one of the most powerful vampires alive in the 23rd century.  Ryan Deasmhumhain is the other.  Ryan and Nyarra, former lovers, head the Chronometric Conservation Agency, welded together yet held apart by grief that won’t heal, their lives on hold. 

Cáel Stelios is intrigued by the pair, but despite being politically powerful, rich, smart and sexually potent, Stelios has a overwhelming disadvantage:  He’s human.  “No” is not a word he accepts without a fight, however. 

The psi-filers and Gabriel have plans, though, that will make fighting very real and bloody indeed…

__

Stelios opened the drawer of his desk and pulled out his reading board and threw it at Christos, who caught it one-handed.  “The top document…book, I suppose.  I had it commissioned several weeks ago and it was delivered last week.  I’ve read it.  It took me all week.”

Christos turned the board on and thumbed his way through the book.  “There’s…fuck, there’s thousands of pages here!”  He looked up at Stelios.  “Did you sleep at all?”

“Not much.  What I was reading gave me nightmares anyway.”  Stelios grimaced and sat on the edge of his desk.

Christos frowned as he flipped through more of the book.  “Why’n hell would you want to read something like this?” he asked.

“I have to work with them,” Stelios said simply.  “I wanted to know them better and they weren’t about to tell me themselves.”

Christos snorted.  “You don’t have a few years to spare for the telling, human.”

Stelios turned and poured himself an ouzo on ice from the supplies in the refrigerated cupboard.  He held up the bottle.  “I’d offer you one, Spartan, but…”

Christos tilted his head.  “I’m not sure I’d take one from you, anyway.  Not yet.”

Stelios tossed back the shot and poured again.  “You know them.  Better than perhaps anyone else in the world.”

“No one knows that pair well.”  Christos placed the board back on the desk gently.  “This research is just dates, facts.  Timelines.”

“Exactly,” Stelios said.  “It’s probably the first time those dates have ever been pulled together, but it’s still just resumes.”  He sat on his desk again.  “Ryan Deasmhumhain and Nayara Ybarra are both over two thousand years old.  Together they run the most powerful vampire organization in the world.  And nobody knows anything about them.  You’re the closest to an expert on them.”

“I’m not an expert.”  Christos crossed his arms over his great chest.  “I’m a friend.  And this friend is wondering why you’re so damned curious about them.”

Stelios put his hand on the reading board.  “I’ve been working with them for weeks, Brendan.  I can’t figure them out.  And I can’t get anywhere with them if I can’t figure them.  We’re going to be working together more in the future.  I need to know what makes them tick.”

“You do, huh?”  Christos grinned.  “You’re a lying sack of Greek shit, Stelios.”

Stelios drained his glass.  “Am I?”

Christos jerked his thumb over his shoulder.  “I’m not one of your voters, Assemblyman.  I don’t get a vote, remember?  I’m not allowed to vote, because I’ve been around long enough to know you’re laying it on thick enough to choke a lamb to death.”  He pointed to the board.  “You’ve read that and you’ve been locked up in the station with Ryan and Nayara for days on end.  You’re a smart man.  You’ve already got more than half a picture about them by now.  I know that because Ryan hasn’t gelded you, they haven’t drawn your blood and Nayara hasn’t tossed you out of the nearest airlocked.  So you’ve figured them out enough to get along with them in all that time.  So what do you really want?”

Stelios felt the sudden urge for another drink.  He cleared his throat and moved around the desk, back to the chilled cabinet.

Christos made a breathy sound behind him.  Then:  “No…!  Tell me you don’t really hold some sort of…”  Then he heard Christos laugh, low and long.

Stelios busied himself pouring the drink.  By the time the drink was ready, his face was under control and Christos was silent once more.  Stelios returned to the desk, staying on this side of it.  He looked Christos in the eye.

Christos had the grace to not laugh again.  But he was smiling.  “Man, you aim high,” he said simply.  “Which one?”

“Does it matter?” Stelios asked, glad to hear his voice emerge evenly.

Christos considered and shook his head.  “In the end, no.  You’ll never get either of them.  They’re welded together, those two.”

“They’re not together romantically.  Not any more,” Stelios pointed out.

“Not since Salathiel died,” Christos agreed.  He stepped up to the other side of the desk.  “Got another one of those in that bottle?” he asked, indicating Stelios’ drink.

Surprised, Stelios nodded.  He turned and poured another drink into a fresh glass, added ice and pushed it over the desk toward the Spartan.  Christos lifted it and sniffed appreciatively.  The glass looked dimunitive in his big hand.  “Aahh.  Brings back memories,” he growled.  He looked Stelios in the eye.  “Now we have the measure of each other, human.  I know what you want.”

“What do I want?” Stelios asked curiously.

“You want the key to unlocking them.”

____

So…like it?  All feedback and opinions are useful and helpful!

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My guest today is Berengaria Brown, who is offering herself up for torture for a second time, here at my place.  :)

Berengaria not only writes MMF romances with the most delicious covers on them (look to the left) and the hardest to resist blurbs, she writes a lot of them.  She has had TWO books released inside two weeks.  Ugh.  Makes me feel like a complete slacker.

So, get cozy and comfortable with Berengaria and reap the rewards.  A lucky commentor gets to pick an ebook from Berengaria’s backlist.  I’ll keep the contest open until midnight MST Friday, December 23rd, and will announce a winner on Christmas eve.  Have fun!

Meet Berengaria:

______________________

Who are your favourite authors?

Georgette Heyer introduced me to historical romance and gave me an enduring love of the Regency era. Anny Cook’s “Mystic Valley” series. I do love your Teal Ceagh ménages.

What is your favourite novel cover?

The Christina Dodd cover with the woman with three hands. It’s so bad it must have sold a million books, because everyone wants to see how bad it is!

What’s the best Hero Moment you’ve ever seen in film?

The Sherlock Holmes movie, the fight on the bridge.

What’s the best Hero Moment you’ve ever read in a book?

In Heyer’s “Cotillion” when Freddy’s father says Kitty will make him an excellent wife and he’s too shocked to answer. Or possibly in “Bath Tangle” when Serena shoots Rotherham, so her betrothed can’t kill him.

What reading device do you use for reading ebooks on? 

Laptop mostly. Of course I would never, ever read, when I’m supposed to be working. (cough).

 What is your take on the indie author phenomenon?  What do you think the book industry will look like in five years time?

I think Indy publishing is the next big thing, and readers will soon get to know whose books have been well-written, have engaging characters, have been edited properly, and are worth buying. In five years time, a lot of tiny publishers and self-publishing authors will have dropped out, and once again the field will have a group of front runners making a good profit, and then a group of others who are making enough money to continue writing and publishing.

Do you ever skip the “I love you!” scene in your novels?  Do you feel you’ve been cheated if they’re missing in other authors’ books? 

I don’t need those three words, but I do need a demonstration that the hero and heroine are committed to each other.

What’s your take on eBook piracy?  What would you do about it if you were given carte blanche?

Ebook piracy is theft. Someone is taking my royalties (my wages) away from me by “sharing” my book with their closest one thousand friends. I’d like to see the large “file sharing” sites closed down, and major participants punished fully under the law: “5 years in federal prison and a fine of $250,000”.

If someone offered you immortality, but you could never write again…would you take the offer?

Absolutely. With all that time left to me I’d figure out a way to get around the rules.

(I like her thinking!)

What do you want your epitaph to read, at the end of your life?

New York Times best-selling author, Berengaria Brown.

What are you currently reading?  How’s that going for you?

I just finished “Yule Be Ours” by Anny Cook. It’s quite different for her, but I enjoyed it.

What will you be reading next?

“Ghost Writer – Prelude” by Amarinda Jones. It’s a return to her “Janet Davies” days, a mainstream romance with no sex at all. I’m really looking forward to it.

The Desiree Staccato

In honour of Desiree Holt who started this Saturday Night Live style tradition:

• Favourite colour? Green
• Favourite drink? Water
• Favourite writing outfit? PJs
• Favourite food(s)? Chocolate
• Favourite music? Rainforest sounds
• Favourite body part? Eyes
• Favourite spot in the world? Hawaii
• Favourite movie? Any James Bond
• Favourite TV show? “Are you Smarter than a Fifth Grader?”
• Favourite flower? Rose
• Favourite thing to do at knock-off time? Go home and read.

Tell us about your book.

Jaid hates the annual family Christmas party, a huge event with people she doesn’t recognize or like. She’s hot and horny and looking for action on the holidays.

But this year things look brighter. Her second cousin, Greg, and his partner, Steve, invite her to spend time with them. Two sexy Santas for Jaid? Oh Santa

Excerpt.

Jaid ran a finger along her lips, checking she wasn’t drooling. Cousin Greg was a fraction over six feet tall, with thick, collar-length blond hair that had her aching to run her fingers through it. She just bet it was as soft and silky as it looked. His eyes were deep blue, and any time she looked into them, her panties creamed, and she almost drowned with desire to get up close and personal with him. She wanted to lick her way across his muscular chest, feel him wrap those strong arms around her, and drive his cock up hard and high inside her.

Steve’s slightly rough image was the perfect foil for Greg’s fair good looks. Steve had black hair and eyes so dark they might be black too. He was wearing a tight black t-shirt that showed off the heavy muscles in his tanned arms. He made her think about doing dirty, naughty things with a bad, bad, biker boy. His features were not quite symmetrical but in a very sexy way, enhancing the bad-boy aura, and she was almost certain it was the edge of a tattoo she could see just at the sleeve of his t-shirt.
Greg and Steve in her bed would be the perfect Christmas gift. Hell, even up against a wall would do!

To buy Santa Baby click here.

Berengaria’s blog…Facebook…Twitter.

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My thanks to Berengaria for guesting here today.

A reminder to you, the reader, to leave a comment before you go!

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