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.”

____________

Related posts:

1. Working Notes – December 26, 2011 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...
2. Working Notes – Byzantine Heartbreak is Underway. Yeah! It’s been a weird week. For a start, it’s been very cold. Like, 35 degrees Celsius below zero cold. That’s negative 31 in Farenheit for...
3. Working Notes – December 12, 2011 I’m one of those writers who doesn’t believe in writer’s block.  I don’t think it exists as an independent condition.  If a writer can’t bring...
4. Working Notes – October 24, 2012: Snippit to Tease You Kate’s body tightened again at the idea that he had spared her a moment’s attention, and she frowned at her own vapidness.  “Sudden business trip?”...
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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 #4 of the Bannockburn Binding book tour.   Today I’m at Vampire Romance Books where I’m spilling my guts about what terrible pilots vampires make, in “Vampires…Natural Space Travellers?”

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, Bannockburn Binding is out in print on Amazon, now, too!

Bannockburn Binding - Tracy

Blood Knot by Tracy Cooper-Posey

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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.

Bannockburn Binding - Tracy

Blood Knot by Tracy Cooper-Posey

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  I’ve added more articles to the Articles for Readers page and the Stuff About My Books page.

Is Honesty Among Thieves Really Possible?

Flatiron Buildings…They’re Just Pretty, In The End

Callouses For Thousands of Years

Avoiding Detection One Meeting At A Time

Secret Love…Is It Really Possible?

Claddagh Rings And Older Symbols

Slave Labour. It’s Not Just For The History Books.

Smell The Coffee? What About That Turkey Stuffing?

In or Out…Or Something Else?

Pampered Vampires and the Mile-High Club

______

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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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It’s out!

It’s out!

IT’S OUT!!!

Bannockburn Binding just hit the Amazon shelves.  Here.

It’ll take a few days for me to get the other formats into shape and up onto the other platforms, and for them to process the files (Smashwords, etc, are much slower than Amazon), but Amazon is out!)

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Time is theirs to keep. But it comes with a price.

Out any day now.

(Just as soon as I get the book formatted, basically.)

What do you think?

Book’s page.

In the early 23rd Century, vampires learned how to travel back in time, and created a time-tsunami that threated life as we know it, until they corrected their mistake.  They created the Chronometric Conservation Agency, which is tasked with preserving history and therefore protecting humanity’s future.  The Touring arm of the Agency offers trips back into the real past, with vampire guides, called travellers.

When Natalia (Tally) Marta, vampire and traveller, takes her client to visit the seige of Stirling Castle in 1314, she is caught and held hostage for ransom by Robert MacKenzie, a Bruce clansman.  Rob finds himself drawn to the willful, stubborn and very different English lady he has captured and the relationship becomes an intimate, highly-charged sexual pairing.  Swiftly, Tally and Rob realize their bond is more than sexual, that the emotions stirring their hearts are true.

Christian Lee Hamilton, vampire, one of the last true southern gentlemen, and Tally’s ex-lover, knows the 1314 time marker enough to jump back and help Tally return home. His arrival at Bannockburn adds complications, for Christian finds himself drawn to Rob MacKenzie as much as Tally is.  But neither of them can stay in the past forever.  To do so means certain death.

_______________

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I’m one of those writers who doesn’t believe in writer’s block.  I don’t think it exists as an independent condition.  If a writer can’t bring herself to write, then there’s an underlying reason for the “block”.  Resolve that base reason, and the writer will be able to write again.

But there isn’t a disease that blocks writers from writing for no good reason.

I also have never been “blocked,” until this year.

All the marketing experts and industry wisdom, and readers and my sales, everything, insists that the best thing I can do as a writer is to pump out book after book after book, as many as possible, all the same series.  Readers like to read books in a series.  They like to get to know the characters and follow their on-going adventures.  (Right?)

Because of this very sound reasoning, and because I don’t like to let readers (you) down, since March this year I have been faced with writing the sequel to Blood Knot.

2011 has been my annus horribilis (as Queen Elizabeth put it).  It began on Christmas Day in 2010, with the death of my brother, and has rolled onwards with family crises, health crises, and financial crises, until now, here I sit in November with hopefully, the last of it behind me.  I can’t think of what else could possibly go wrong, and I’m not going to tempt fate by speculating on what might.

Throughout all that I started off on a wrong foot.  I began writing a brand new series, Branded Rose.  But then I got some very good advice from a few different sources, and switched over to writing the sequel to Blood Knot, which eventually became Blood Stone.

Now, I’m a fairly prolific writer.  Even with a full time job, I usually manage to crank out about four or five full books a year.

But by early November, I was still sitting on Chapter Three of Blood Stone, and I had to force myself to sit down and write.

Not good.

I stopped for reassessment.  All my “crises” were behind me.  I was (relatively) healthy, and the lights were all green.  There was no reason why I shouldn’t be able to zip through the book, finish it, and get it out for readers, pronto.  Just like usual.

Except…I wasn’t.

The only underlying reason I could think of for not writing the book was the book itself.  For some reason in the back of my brain where I couldn’t reach it, I just didn’t want to write this book.

There was only one way to find out if that was the problem:  Try writing a different book.

I thumbed through my dog-eared and drooled-over collection of series and novel ideas.  Some of them I have been itching to write for years.  Some of them are half-written.  Some series have two or three books already completed, and just need the rest written to be put out there as a complete series.  My collection of ideas is a junk yard of bits and peices, scraps and bodies, skeletons and parts.  For a writer, it’s a goldmine, if you like digging through ideas and story starters and fragments of story, character profiles, etc.

But I didn’t just jump for the series I most wanted to write.  If this was to be a fair experiment, I had to pick a series according to what I thought my readers would want to read the most, and try writing that.

So I did.  I found amongst all my series and novel ideas a series that had all the hallmarks of a great read:  Erotic romance, MMF storylines, urban fantasy, paranormal elements, vampires, and time travel — therefore, historical settings, too.

The series has been retitled:  Beloved Bloody Time.

I brushed off the dust, reworked the storylines and romances, and started writing.

And ohmigod, I can’t stop!

It’s only been ten days since I started working on the first book in the series, Bannockburn Binding, and I’m already more than halfway through the book.  And it’s fun!

So I think my plan is to put out a few books in this series, and then I will go back and tackle Blood Stone.  Or maybe I’ll be suddenly inspired one day and start working on Blood Stone just for the hell of it, and the block will be gone.

For now, I’m writing at full tilt again…and it feels very good indeed.

_____

Update.  I wrote this post and scheduled it about ten days ago.  As of November 26, I finished the book (first draft).  It took me a whole whopping 16 days, and when I couldn’t access my laptop or desktop, I was scribbling notes in my notebook for yet another series idea that is banging inside my head.  I think the dam has burst, well and truly.  Interestingly, I wasn’t actively partipating in National Novel Writing Month, but as I started the book on November 9th and finished on November 26th, I actually did manage to write a book for the month of November, and completed the NaNoWriMo objective, quite by coincidence. 

Tomorrow I’ll be starting Book Two in the series.  :)

______

Here’s a snippet from Bannockburn Binding, and the blurb.

_______________

In the early 23rd Century, vampires learned how to travel back in time, and created a time-tsunami that threated life as we know it, until they corrected their mistake.  They created the Chronometric Conservation Agency, which is tasked with preserving history and therefore protecting humanity’s future.  The Touring arm of the Agency offers trips back into the real past, with vampire guides, called travellers.

When Natalia (Tally) Marta, vampire and traveller, takes her client to visit the seige of Stirling Castle in 1314, she is caught and held hostage for ransom by Robert MacKenzie, a Bruce clansman.  Rob finds himself drawn to the willful, stubborn and very different English lady he has captured and the relationship becomes an intimate, highly-charged sexual pairing.  Swiftly, Tally and Rob realize their bond is more than sexual, that the emotions stirring their hearts are true.

Christian Lee Hamilton, vampire, one of the last true southern gentlemen, and Tally’s ex-lover, knows the 1314 time marker enough to jump back and help Tally return home. His arrival at Bannockburn adds complications, for Christian finds himself drawn to Rob MacKenzie as much as Tally is.  But neither of them can stay in the past forever.  To do so means certain death.

__

Rob managed to stay away from his tent until sunset, then he could stand it no longer.  He found a platter that was near to clean and heaped piping hot stew upon it, grabbed a hunk of honey bread and even managed to scrounge up a spoon.  He took it all back to the tent, with a lantern in the other hand.

She was slumped against the tent pole, her face against her arms.  His heart leapt into his mouth at the paleness of her.  “Natalie, lass,”  he murmured.  “I’ve food for ye.”

She didn’t move and his fear bloomed larger.  After all, she had been doing naught but picking mushrooms.  If he’d killed her….

He sat his burdens down and cut her hands free with his dagger.  She fell against him, a dead weight.

“Ye should’ve called out sooner, lassie,” he told her, knowing she probably couldn’t hear him.  He began to massage her upper arms and shoulders, where most of the strain would have been.

She flashed to life, her knee driving into the front of his kilt, aiming for parts that no maiden should have been aware of.  Her arms stiffened, the elbows driving into his chest.  Her right elbow landed true and his shoulder instantly numbed, leaving his left arm useless.

She squirmed out of his reach and lunged for the dagger he’d left on the skins behind him.

Both furious and amazed, he threw himself on top of her, reaching over her head to pin her forearm to the floor, even as her fingers closed on the haft of the knife.  With his left arm useless, he could only pin her down until his weight and her own struggles exhausted her.

“Wriggle all ye like,” he told her harshly.  “It’ll do naught but tire ye, and make your meal cold.  I have no intention of letting ye take the knife.”  He shook his fingers as feeling started to return to his arm.  “And the longer ye wriggle the sooner my other hand will recover.”

She lay still, silent.  Waiting.

As soon as he was able, he reached with his left hand and tossed the knife far out of the way.  Then he flipped her on her back.

Instantly, she heaved upwards with her head, intending to smash her forehead into his and blind him.  But he had been ready for such a trick and was out of reach, so she did nothing but strain her already stressed shoulders.  She fell back on the skins with a cry of pain, her eyes closing.

It was much too close to a more intimate positioning than Rob cared to consider.  He cleared his throat.  “Ye cannot win any match against me, Natalie.”  His words emerged ragged and harsh.  “D’ye not see?  Will ye not give it up and let me treat ye civilly?”

She was breathing deeply, but the eyes slitted open, showing dark brown and black.  “Give me back my manservant.”

“I canna.”

She turned her head away.  “Then I cannot, either.”

“Look at me,”  he demanded harshly.  When she remained still, he brought both slender wrists under his left hand and gripped her chin to bring her head around.  She merely closed her eyes.

So Rob kissed her, intending merely to shock her into opening her eyes.  And they did open wide, but that was all he noticed before the sensations of kissing her swamped his senses.  Her mouth was soft, pliable and tasted like ripe peaches.  Everything about her was soft, warm, delicate.  His tongue slipped between her lips.  Sips of honey, he thought.

It was the last coherent thought he had.  His body took over.  He let it happen.  The drive to have more of the taste of her, to take more, was overwhelming.  He let his body press against hers, feeling her with every inch of his length where she lay beneath him.

And her tongue met his.

Her soft moan as she melted against him made the internal flame blaze up, demanding more and more.  Silvery excitement shot through him.

Abruptly, with a cold dash of alarm, he realized what he was doing.  What they were doing.

He wrenched himself away and she, too, slithered back until she was up against the tent pole, her arms against her chest defensively.  Her veil had dislodged, reveal pale golden hair tied back in a thick skein at her back.  The brown eyes were very round.  “What…do you think you are doing?”

It was the proper question any maiden would ask.

Rob spoke carefully.  “I am a block-headed fool.  I must be, for the only other truth is that you and I both know what we were just doing.”

She bit her lip.

The small sign of doubt was more endearing than anything else she had said or done this day.  “We cannot,”  she said and it had a hopeless, final quality to it.

“Aye and I would not, not with you.”  He got up, the heaviness in his limbs making his actions awkward.

“Because I am English,”  she said, her voice harsh.

He picked up his dagger and slid it back into his boot.  “Because ye are my captive.  Only the English spoil their winnings, lassie, but ye could say more on that than I.”  He pointed to the platter, which was still steaming.  His hand shook.  “That is for you.  I suggest you eat it, for there’s naught else to be had this night.”  He threw the rope aside.  “I’ll not tie ye again, so I must guard ye instead.  Don’t try to go under the back of this tent, either.  It’s dark now.  Anyone caught wandering the camp who can’t answer the day’s challenge will be run through.”

And he got himself out of his tent while he still could and let the leather fall across the opening.  He hoped it would be barricade enough.

___________________

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My erotic urban fantasy MMF romance, Blood Knot, has been nominated for vampire book of the year by the reviewers at The Romance Reviews.

Now the voting begins.  Yes, I’m trawling for votes — as this is a “book of the year” vote rather than a book of the week, or weekend or month, or whatever.  Those ones I gave up asking for a while ago.  There’s just too many of them.  But for this one….pleeeeaaaase?  It’d look so pretty on my resume.  :)

Actually, joking aside, this is a very nice tip of the hat toward Blood Knot, because it’s an indie-published title.  Even getting the nomination at all is a massive acknowledgement for me and indie authors in general.

To vote, you will be asked to register, but you can get around that by signing in with your Facebook profile.  Scroll down the the erotic vampire category, and Blood Knot is the second from the top.  Click here to vote …with my thanks!

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