Wednesday, May 30, 2012

In The Shadow of War


My guest today is author Lee Ann Sontheimer Murphy with her new book, In The Shadow of War. Welcome, Lee Ann. Tell us a little about the time period of your story and how you came to write it.

            To understand why I find the 1940’s and the World War II era so romantic, you’d have to hear a little family story.  It begins sad, as so many stories do.  My grandmother was widowed in 1943 at the age of twenty-eight with four children, two boys, two girls.  Her cousin and some of her friends encouraged her to begin dating within a reasonable time frame.  Since she already wrote to her many cousins serving in the war, one of her friends suggested she write to one more, the friend’s uncle, a man just a few years older than they were.  So my grandmother did and a relationship grew as the letters written on the brittle Air Mail paper of the time flew back and forth between St. Joseph, Missouri and the Philippines.  
            By the time the war ended, she and her soldier wanted to meet in person but just because the war was over didn’t mean everyone got to come home immediately.  They continued to write and when he was discharged, the man I grew up knowing as Grandpa came back to my hometown of St. Joseph.  He arrived late at night and when he walked to the address where he’d sent all those letters, everyone was in bed.  So he decided to just wait until morning.  Despite the autumn chill in the air, he rolled up in his Army overcoat and slept on the front porch.  When my grandmother came out to get the milk – delivered by the faithful milkman – she discovered the soldier she’d been writing to in person.  They were married a few months later.

Lee Anne, I love this! Not something that would happen today, would it? Really brings back the magic and simpleness of that period in time. How fragile life was, and still is. How miracles can happen when we least expect it. What a good man to father those kids, and be a husband to your grandma. Although I was born after the war, my parents and grandparents told me similar stories. But this has to be one of the most beautiful ones I've heard.

            Romantic, isn’t it? I always thought so.  Their story isn’t the story told in my new historical romance from Rebel Ink Press, In The Shadow of War, but the love story between Bette Sullivan and Private Ben Levy is just as poignant, as sweet.  Here’s the details, the blurb and a little taste:

In The Shadow of War
Rebel Ink Press May 17 2012
$5.99
206 pages
ISBN # RIP0004104

Blurb:
Her great-granddaughter wants to know if Bette remembers World War II for a school project and her questions revive old memories….
Small town school teacher Bette Sullivan's life was interrupted when the Japanese bomb Pearl Harbor on December 7th 1941 but her world changed forever when she met Private Benny Levy, a soldier from the Flatbush neighborhood in Brooklyn, New York stationed at Camp Crowder, the local Army base.

Their attraction is immediate and mutual but as their relationship grows their love and lives are shadowed by World War II. As the future looms uncertain the couple comes together with almost desperate need and a powerful love they hope can weather anything, including the war.

Excerpt:
                  “I missed you, doll,” he said afterward. “God, I missed you.”
                   Warmth blossomed within her chest and she smiled at him. “I missed you too, Benny. Saturday seemed so long and I didn’t know if you could come this morning. I worried you might not make it.”
                  “Me, too,” he said. “I almost missed the bus anyhow because the company sergeant griped us out because the barracks weren’t neat enough to suit him.  Yesterday turned out lousy, all day.”
                  “Why?” she asked. “What happened?”
                  “What didn’t?” he said. “Jeez, they made us go on a long hike through the back country, for hours in the heat.  I picked up every tick and chigger in the world, I think, got mosquito bit, and worn out.  Two of the guys fell out with heat exhaustion and ended up at the post hospital.  My feet and ankles itched me like crazy. Even the darn Army boots didn’t help me from getting eaten by the insects.  I swear the buggers crawled into my boots.”
                  “Aw, honey, I’m sorry,” Bette said, using the endearment for the first time. “Do the bites still itch?”
                  “Not so bad,” he said. “Back in barracks, some of the guys said to soak my feet in bleach water so we begged some from the laundry.  It helped.  Then after dinner they called me over to the motor pool to fix a jeep and I got to bed late just before final lights out.  I’m beat and that’s a fact.”
                  Bette paused and faced him. “Would you rather go rest or something?”
                  “Naw, sugar, I’m fine.  I need some Joe and I’m hungry, too.  I just got a couple of hours so let’s go eat and spend a little time together, okay?”
                  “It’s fine with me,” she said.
                  They ate at a different café and she introduced him to biscuits and gravy, something he vowed he’d never eaten before but said he liked.  Afterward, with time passing too fast, he suggested they walk down to Big Spring Park again but she had another idea.
                  “You look so tired,” Bette said.  He did with dark smudges beneath both eyes. “If you want we can go sit in the porch swing at Aunt Virgie’s or in the front room.”
                  Benny shook his head. “I’ll catch a nap later this afternoon, if I’m lucky.  I’d like a few more kisses and I doubt your parents would like us spooning out on the porch.”
                  “I forgot they’re there,” she replied. “So, okay, let’s go to the park.”
                  Another couple beat them to the grotto, so they wandered around the park until they found a vacant bench in the shade.  A few kids played on the teeter-totter and swings, their happy babble setting a bright mood.  Benny put his arm around her and Bette snuggled against him with a contented sigh.  For a few minutes they sat, comfortable with the pose and content with each other.  She’d already come to associate his scent with security and she inhaled it, saving it up for when she’d be alone.  As they rested in easy silence she savored the harmony and as they lingered Bette noticed their breath came in tandem, in and out with the same rhythm as if they were one, not two.
                  Just as she opened her mouth to remark on it Benny took her face and turned it toward him.  With slow deliberation he kissed her, unhurried with such sweetness she forgot to breathe for a few seconds.  His lips caressed her mouth with a fine light touch, as soft as hair blown across her face with a gentle breeze.  Such tenderness evoked the same within and yet triggered desire, too.  Benny cherished her mouth with his, his lips sending shivers through her body despite the hot day, little spirals of chill strong enough to make goose pimples erupt on her flesh.
                  Bette responded with her mouth, a hankering for something deeper and more intimate rising in her with the force of a rising wind.  She sensed how great it would be to lose her consciousness by drowning in her senses, by molding her body into his.  Bette, virgin as the mother of God, ached now for the pleasures of the flesh.  Every old wives tale ever heard about sex being dirty or painful or nasty evaporated faster than snow in March and for the first time in her life, she decided sex could be wonderful.  
                  His kisses stirred Bette’s body even as they induced emotion, too sweet to be sinful.  Her body responded to his mouth the way a good corn crop ripened beneath the sun’s warmth.  As her limbs relaxed she leaned into him, one hand holding tight to his arm so she wouldn’t lose balance to tumble from the park bench onto the grass.  The kiss lasted forever, but not quite long enough when Benny paused so they could both breathe again.
                  “Oh,” she said with wonder. “Benny, that’s nice.”
                  “Nice, she says,” he responded with mock outrage. “Just nice? I call it splendid, fantastic, superb, supreme…”


Thank you, Lee Anne, for stopping by today. Hope everyone will stop by again.

Sharon Hamilton
Life is one fool thing after another.
Love is two fool things after each other.

Heavenly Lover ** Underworld Lover ** Honeymoon Bite available now at Amazon/B&N
Accidental SEAL coming soon!


Sunday, May 20, 2012

Just Isn't Fair: I Get to Live In California

I know, call me crazy. But I do love this whacky place. Every time I think about leaving, I wonder if anywhere else would just seem, well, dull.

I have never had to work so hard for so little here, too. But I do enjoy the people. Some of the people anyway. I love street faires, farmer's markets, craft faires.

My husband and I took all 4 of the kids on the Golden Gate Bridge the last time there was a celebration--and the span between the two towers literally flattened. By the time we all realized it, there was such a crowd, we couldn't get off the structure. A big black guy shouted ahead of us, made a space so we could walk through the crowd behind him with our double stroller.

I've walked on Doyle Drive, named after a businessman from Santa Rosa, who was one of the top hats you see pictured on the Opening Day almost 100 years ago.

Last week we had the AmGen tour start here in Santa Rosa. Today, it was the Bay to Breakers. Northern Californians are a different lot. We don't need much to celebrate. In fact, we don't need to wear much clothing, either! I digress.

Back to the Amgen day on Mother's Day. I had a blast. From the guys blending their own smoothies with their Safeway Trainers in tow, to the odd Pedal Cars and Paella Guy, it was a feast of the senses. And that was before the cyclists (sorry about the hairy guy's arm. I'm not a professional photographer, can you tell?).




Yes, we are an eclectic group, a huge financial disaster looming right on the horizon. Real Estate prices at historic lows (we can help you there), and our governor we used to call (in the day), Governor Moonbeam.


On the brink of disaster, we have Facebook's IPO, and a Silicon Valley that is going strong, despite rumors of it's demise.

I just found out we have a local Roller Blade team, and one of the gals is a tenant of mine! I can see a romance novel brewing.

After all, in this place of so many contrasts, it is perfect fodder for my writer's brain. So next time I consider leaving, would you please spank me?





Saturday, May 5, 2012

Accidentally Married To A Vampire!


Mimi Jean Pamfiloff's ACCIDENTALLY MARRIED TO...A VAMPIRE, Book 2 in her popular "Accidentally Yours Series", recently hit #34 on the NYTimes Best Seller List (Fiction eBooks)!! "VAMPIRE" has also earned a well-deserved spot on both the Amazon and USA Today Top/Best Seller lists! To celebrate, Mimi Jean is giving away an eBook copy of not only ACCIDENTALLY MARRIED TO...A VAMPIRE, but ACCIDENTALLY IN LOVE WITH...A GOD, Book 1 in the "Accidentally Yours Series", as well, to 20--yes, you read that right, 20--lucky winners!

Accidentally in Love With...a God?
(Book 1, Accidentally Yours)
Contemporary Paranormal Romance by Mimi Jean Pamfiloff

"4.5 out of 5 Stars for Accidentally in Love With...a God? (Amazon)!"

Blurb:
Twenty-two-year-old Emma Keane has a secret friend. He’s powerful, mysterious, and devastatingly handsome. In her dreams, anyway.

In real life, he’s an enigma. Maybe just a teensie jealous. Definitely overbearing. He’s also a voice only she can hear.

So who or what is he? He won’t say. But if she wants to be free, to be normal, Emma will have to trek to the jungles once ruled by the Mayans and find the forgotten ruin holding the answers.

However, the ruthless deity she’s about to unknowingly unleash on the modern world might not be so easily extracted from her life. Bottom line, he’s got enemies, and now, so does she.

Excerpt:
With his golden face beaming, the man smiled as he stroked my sopping wet hair and cradled me against his warm, smooth chest. “I love this dream,” I said with a breathy voice, then stretched my arms above my head, gazing happily into the most striking set of luminescent, turquoise green eyes I’d ever seen.

To boot, they belonged to a breathtaking, masculine face, a face one would expect to see on the cover of a magazine named something like, I’m Way Too Hot to Be Your Man, or In Your Dreams, Honey.

Oh, yeah. Without a doubt, I’d topped myself this time. Sculpted cheekbones, thick dark lashes, chiseled jaw, and lips so full they simply had to be meant for kissing or eating something really juicy. He was way hotter than the specimen of perfection from my last dream, and bonus, he didn’t have that scary vibe. I reached up and ran my fingertip along the ridge of his hard-lined warrior nose.

“Emma, what in the name of the gods’ creation are you doing?” he scorned. “We really don’t have time for your immature little fantasies. We’re in the middle of a crisis. Do you not remember?”

I blinked and slowly moved my eyes from side to side.

Jungle? I was in the jungle. And my clothes were wet. Come to think of it, for a dream, I didn’t feel so hot. My lungs burned, my body felt like it’d been chewed up, and my head was throbbing. So, aside from the perfect man with long, damp, wavy black hair holding me in his arms, none of this felt like a dream. It felt…

“Holy Mother!” I pushed myself away and rolled into the dirt, pointing in disbelief. “Wha—you—you—?”

“Aaah. So eloquent as always, my sweet. It is astounding; you actually have a college degree, yet cannot find better words.” He pushed himself up off the ground.

As he rose, my heart stopped, started, then went into overdrive. His legs and spine straightened into a towering mass of unforgiving muscles. With shoulders like a lumberjack and thick, powerful thighs, I didn’t know if I wanted to run away or climb him like a tree. He was utterly enormous. Jolly Green Giant enormous. Except, obviously, not green. More golden brown. He was a gorgeous, towering mass of golden brown perfection.

No. Definitely not a cave-dwelling, wart-infested troll. Great. Just great.  Now I knew I wasn’t crazy—Guy was definitely real—but now I also knew I was way over my head. He was gorgeous.

I stood in awe, my mouth gaping as my eyes attempted to register every rope of muscle, every capacious curve packed with power. Christ, he had to be at least seven feet tall.

“Six nine, actually,” he said, guessing my thoughts.

“This can’t be possible,” I whispered, my eyes continuing to dart up and down the length of his body, stopping right on dark trail of hair that started just below his navel and continued down, down, down to his enormous beast of a—“Oh! You’re naked.” I turned sharply, but only to stop myself from reaching out to touch it; no man could be that…that…endowed. Wow. “This can’t be happening.” I covered my face.

“Emma,” he moved behind me, placing his powerful hands on my shoulders. A jolt shivered its way through my body.

I was wrong about the vibe. Way wrong. This man, or whatever he was, radiated hazard. He should come equipped with a set of blinking lights or flares. He was…“Bad. Very, very, bad,” I mumbled, pinching the bridge of my nose.

And pathetically, after everything that had happened, all I could think about was this naked, hard-bodied, glorious “man” who’d just permanently seared his image inside the storage compartments of my female DNA. All men from this day forward would have to survive a mental side-by-side comparison against him. They’d all lose.

Available for ONLY $0.99 at:


Accidentally Married to...a Vampire?
(Book 2, Accidentally Yours)
Contemporary Paranormal Romance by Mimi Jean Pamfiloff

"4.5 out of 5 Stars for Accidentally Married to...a Vampire? (Amazon)!"

Blurb:
“If you love her, set her free. If she comes back, she’s yours. If she doesn’t...Christ! Stubborn woman! Hunt her down, and bring her the hell back; she’s still yours according to vampire law.”--Niccolo DiConti, General of the Vampire Queen’s Army.

The Determined Vampire:
Niccolo DiConti has faithfully served as leader of Her Majesty’s army for over a millennium, but he’d rather sunbathe in the Sahara than spend another grueling day under his demented queen’s command. However, no one has ever left her side and lived to tell. So when a powerful goddess prophesizes he will meet his salvation—a human woman he must turn into a vampire with her consent—he eagerly rises to the challenge. After all, how hard could it be to seduce a human female into taking the immortal plunge? Harder than he thinks. Because his mate won’t be born for another three centuries, and when he wakes up in the goddess’ tomb, not only is his life a mess, but his destined female isn’t about to settle for a coldhearted vampire. Can he win her over before it’s too late? Not if his enemies have anything to do with it.

An Unwilling Bride:
On the night Helena Strauss meets the fierce, devastatingly handsome vampire who saves her life in the jungles of Mexico, she knows her world will be forever changed.  Because an attraction this mind blowing only comes along once in a lifetime—or existence.  And when he claims she is his one true mate, destined to be his for all eternity, it’s a fairytale come true.  So what if her knight in shining armor is a vampire?  Nobody’s perfect. But discovering the powerful, overbearing immortal doesn’t “do love”?  Deal breaker.  Helena will flee and set out to accomplish the impossible…sever the otherworldly bond between them. And it turns out, Helena is just the leverage Niccolo’s enemies need to break the mighty warrior and wipe out his people.

Excerpt:
What the hell is this place?

Then Helena’s eyes focused on something else she couldn’t quite grasp. In the middle of the room, lying across a stone altar, was a naked man with dark symbols tattooed down the length of one arm. But he was not just any man. He was a male so perfect that words would catfight each other just for the honor of describing him. He was a god. A bona fide deity. He had to be. Because a normal man wouldn’t give her the urge to fall to her knees and worship at his feet. Or drool.

The torchlight licked his sculpted cheekbones, angular jaw, and full, sensual lips. Every capacious curve and ripple of hard muscle looked to be packed with raw power, and his size left no doubt that he’d been built in another time. A time when giant warriors roamed the earth, looking to rescue lame tourists wandering the Mexican jungle at night.

In my dreams. Wait...this is a dream! It has to be.

“Move closer my sweet, delicious woman.” The deep voice radiated from every direction, filling the room.

Helena’s blood pressure crashed to the floor. She gasped as the weight of her body slammed back against the cold chamber wall to keep from falling.

“Hel-hello? Can you hear me?” Fists clenched, Helena waited for a response, her eyes continuing to soak him in. Every inch of him.

Was he real? No, he must be a statue. Too perfect. His full lips were built to nuzzle a woman’s neck. Specifically, her neck. And that hair—thick, long waves of black satin—was the kind a woman could grab fistfuls of while being driven insane by those lips.

Then there were the diamond-cut grooves of his abs, his perfectly shaped navel, the fine dark hair adorning his lower belly that trailed down to his awe-inspiring man-gear. The size and thickness, even in its slumbering state, was something women dreamed of and scores of artists throughout history attempted to immortalize in marble. He was every woman’s fantasy, she thought. And by every woman, she meant hers…’Cause I’m not gonna share.

“Kiss me, Helena,” the seductive voice rumbled.

Had the man said her name? No. Clearly, his lips hadn’t moved. The margarita amoebas were attacking her brain and she was losing her mind.

“Kiss me, woman. I command you,” the voice echoed, this time compelling her to obey.

Helena’s survival instincts gave her a hard kick, jarring her back into the horrific reality of the situation. But as she tried to regain control of her body, her tongue slipped from her mouth and wet her lips.

Traitorous tongue. Backstabbing lips. What the hell are you doing? Her body inched closer.

“Sì, that is it, my love. I can smell your blood.”

Blood? What the...? Every nerve in her body fired on all cylinders, but she couldn’t run even if her hair had been on fire. It seemed the harder she fought, the stronger the force controlling her became.

“Brush it against my lips, my love. I want to taste you when you kiss me.”

Without realizing it, her hand stretched down to coat her fingertips with the thick, nearly dried blood from her knee. Trembling, she smeared it over his lips.

“Now, kiss me, my love. Awaken me, my bride.”

“No! No! Let me go!” Helena struggled, but her body’s betrayal persisted. Her head dipped, and her lips rested on his sensuous mouth. In that instant, the compelling force dissipated and her entire body lit up into one glorious pyre of life.

Had she been asleep the last twenty-four years? Because she could swear she’d just taken her first breath. Ever.

Holy hell, what was that?

The torches flickered, and the wind kicked up around her.

The altar was empty.

She crumbled to the cold, dusty floor. A pair of strong hands gripped her shoulders from behind.

“Oh, Christ. You...you’re behind me, aren’t you?” she whispered.

The deep dark voice replied, “, my love. Stand, and let me see my mate.”

Helena slowly rose to face the naked god behind her.

Available for ONLY $0.99 at:
One hundred percent (100%) of all royalties received from the sale of Accidentally Married to a...Vampire from both B&N and Amazon THIS SUNDAY will be donated to The Breast Cancer Foundation.


COMING IN SEPT 2012!
Sun God Seeks... Surrogate?
(Book 3, Accidentally Yours)
Contemporary Paranormal Romance by Mimi Jean Pamfiloff

Blurb:
Twenty-four-year-old Penelope finds herself in all sorts of hot water, vaporous and otherwise, after agreeing to become a surrogate mother for an eccentric, wealthy, and devastatingly handsome man who isn’t exactly a man.



About the Author:
Before taking up a permanent residence in the San Francisco Bay Area, Mimi spent time living near NYC (became a shopaholic), in Mexico City (developed a taste for very spicy food), and Arizona (now hates jumping chollas, but pines for sherbet sunsets). Her love of pre-Hispanic culture, big cities, and romance inspires her to write when she’s not busy with kids, work, and life…or getting sucked into a juicy novel.

She hopes that someday, leather pants for men will make a big comeback and that her writing might make you laugh when you need it most.