I Love Words. Except These.
I probably need to cover myself up front by saying that I know lots of people who use words that make me grind my teeth or roll my eyes. I still respect them in the morning.
Words I find distasteful seem to fall into three categories. There are the profane words that polite society seems to frown upon. There are bodily function words. And there are words used incorrectly or simply made up. After I made my list I asked my writing group what their ick-factor words were. Although we had some dislikes in common, our differences surprised me.
My own absolutely-will-not-say words fall into the bodily function category. I didn't realize this until a fellow writer pointed it out. Being a biology research scientist, these words don't bother her at all while they're even hard for me to make myself write. For the sake of the blog, I'll do it: Fart, snot, and puke. Once, I stopped reading a book by one of my favorite authors when farting became a large part of the story.
Two words that I hear way more often than I should are orientate and conversate. I will say these words only as punchlines to jokes. A colleague offered the word confusement as her pet peeve.
Misused words make the list, too. A huge irritant is the use of less when fewer is the appropriate word. One writer-friend hates sentences that begin with so. I cringe when I am asked if I am done. Unless you're talking about meatloaf, the question is "Are you finished?" Another friend hates the phrase all y'all.
I'm from Virginia. I understand that idiom completely. And I loved it when Prince used it in a song. Y'all didn't know he was southern, did you?
Through my friends I learned there are words that some people dislike for no apparent reason, like moist, ooze, cannibalism or space cadet. The collection of words that drew the biggest groans? The feels, adulting, squee, bae. These made up words seem cute, but in reality cause massive eye rolls from readers/listeners.
If you are interested in seeing how new words spread across the country, check out these links. Then let me know what words make you cringe.
By Any Other Name
I have a habit of giving multiple names to people, pets, and books. Granted, I start out with perfectly acceptable names, but they tend to morph into whatever strikes my fancy at any given time or circumstance.
For example, we adopted a cute little dog named Muffin. We were told she was 19 months old and full grown at 25 pounds. We didn't think she looked like a Muffin so we changed her name to Molly. When she started to get a bit chubby she became Molly Muffintop, which morphed into Milenko and then The Grest Milenko (said in the sing song voice of Insane Clown Posse). Later, when she topped 50 pounds and started jerking on her lead and popping one of my ribs, she became Tank.
That is the same route my titles usually take. It starts with what we think the story will be. House of the Rising Son started out life as "Beautiful Strange" which captured the essence of our main character. Then one day my partner and I were cooking. She'd opened a can of pineapple and I cautioned her to be careful because the can seemed to be sticky on the rim. Boom! We both knew that had to be the books true title-- "Sticky on the Rim". The two main characters were trying to break free from their families' expectations so they could live the lives they wanted, but each time they were close to breaking free something kept them from taking the last step. Seemed logical to me. The publisher didn't agree, and the title became House of the Rising Son.
The series carries the same name as my blog--Living After Midnight. When my partner and I first started writing stories together, we both held full time jobs and had other responsibilities. Writing took place at the end of the day after everything else was finished. Late night phone calls helped us flesh out what we were writing. It became our truth that we were existing during the rest of the day but truly living after midnight.
My two current works in progress have already had two names each. I wonder what turns life will take, and what additional names we'll uncover.
Dress Up, Dress Down with Kryssie Fortune
Please join me in welcoming author Kryssie Fortune to the LAM Blog! Great to have you here, Kryssie. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Thank you, Trevann, for letting me drop by to talk about my book Sex, Scandal, and the Sheriff.
My hero is a former Seal who turned sheriff when he was invalided out of the SEALS due to a leg wound that cost him his speed in the water. He wore his SEALS’ badge with pride.
Everyone knows Navy SEALS are special. It’s no surprise their badge is too. The badge’s formal title is Special Warfare Insignia, but mostly it’s known as a SEALS Trident, or even better a Budweiser. Apparently, the eagle looks a lot like the eagle on the famous beer bottle so the name isn’t a hint on SEALS celebrating finishing the 24-week Basic Underwater Demolition / Seal’s training—usually referred to as BUDS.
The Special Warfare insignia consists of a golden eagle clutching a U.S. Navy anchor, trident, and flintlock style pistol.
The photograph below shows SEAL Lt. Michael P. Murphy, from Patchogue, N.Y., and Sonar Technician (Surface) 2nd Class Matthew G. Axelson, of Cupertino, Calif., taken in Afghanistan. Since the photograph was released by the US Navy, I have no qualms about using it. To me, both men are heroes. As you can see they are wearing combat gear.
By U.S Navy Photographer, U.S Navy [Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons
Tagline
Starting over in Westhorpe Ridge wouldn’t be easy, especially since she’d already enjoyed a spanking and a one-night stand with the sheriff.
Blurb
Jasmine Stewart (Jazz to her friends) falls for the blond stranger when he spanks and seduces her at a Washington soiree. Later, when she discovers her flatmate is trying to draw her into a spy ring, she goes to the authorities. The ensuing publicity costs her her job, her security, and her future. Starting over in Westhorpe Ridge is her only option.
Sean Mathews, former SEAL and Westhorpe Ridge’s sheriff, can’t forget the woman he spanked when he visited Washington, but he thinks she’s a spy. When she turns up in Westhorpe Ridge, he tries everything to make her leave town. Despite their misunderstandings, though, they can’t keep their hands off each other.
As Year’s Eve looms, the spy ring resurfaces. Jazz will need all of Sean’s SEAL prowess to survive. But because his wounded leg cost him his speed in the water, will it be enough?
- Note: A stand-alone romance this is the second story in The Heroes of Westhorpe Ridge series, featuring Sean Matthews from Marriage, Mobsters and the Marinesand Jasmine Stewart (Jazz to her friends).
Buy links
Loose id http://www.loose-id.com/sex-scandal-and-the-sheriff.html
Amazon.com http://amzn.to/2iOBqn1
Amazon.co. http://amzn.to/2inBoBE
Kryssie Fortune’s social medial links – I’d love to hear from you.
Facebook - https://www.facebook.com/KryssiesFortune
Twitter - https://twitter.com/KryssieFortune,
Blog - http://kryssiefortune.blogspot.co.uk/
Website - http://kryssiefortune.wixsite.com/kryssie
Excerpt
“New start. New life. New ambitions,” she told herself as she drove away from her dream of being a teacher.
By the time the winter sun crept over the horizon, she’d passed the halfway point between Washington and Westhorpe Ridge. She made good time, but fifteen minutes from her destination, the car handling changed. Praying nothing expensive had happened to her trusty vehicle, she pulled over to take a look. She got out the car, walked around to the rear passenger side, and sighed when she realized the tire had blown out. Damn, my spare’s in the trunk, beneath my suitcases and bedding. Shaking her head, she heaved her first suitcase onto the grass verge. It hadn’t felt so heavy when she’d packed it.
A police car pulled up. “Sheriff Mathews, ma’am. Can I be of assistance?”
His voice flowed over her like molasses, rich, thick, and so sweet she wanted to taste its owner. Instead, she panted slightly but kept moving. “I’ve had a blowout, but my spare tire’s under all my stuff. Don’t worry. I can manage, thank you.”
When she turned back to the car, Jazz’s eyes widened. The man in the uniform looked enormous, blond, and way too familiar. Handsome didn’t come close. In his long-sleeved fawn shirt and standard-issue brown trousers, he looked like a sex god come to earth. And are those handcuffs dangling from his belt? I can find a way to put them to good use.
Given their history, drooling over him felt wrong. Despite what the doctors had told her, traces of the spies’ lust drug must still linger in her system. Her heart beat faster and her pussy grew damp. Even breathing seemed hard around him. “Ethan Mathews? I thought you were a scientist involved in some hush-hush stuff, not a sheriff. Why are you in Westhorpe Ridge? I thought you were some high-flying scientist. And isn’t impersonating a police officer a criminal offense? Shit, you’re driving a real police car. Are you really a sheriff?”
He did a double take, glowered right back at her. “Jazz Stewart? What the hell are you doing here? Have you jumped bail? Keep your hands where I can see them while I radio in and run a check on you.”
Jazz shivered despite the winter sunshine. Everyone except the CIA had made her out to be the bad guy, her former employer included. The damn sheriff was treating her like a criminal, but he’d been at that damn party too. Judging by the way he’d climbing on his high horse, he probably believed everything he’d read about her in the papers. Out of everyone she knew, she’d wanted the man she’d been dreaming about since the soiree to be on her side. He’s even sexier than I remembered, but what’s with this running a check on me? Surely he knows the truth by now. She hated the way he smirked at her, but she couldn’t resist taunting him. “So, Sheriff, spanked any other females lately?”
Music Fuels Me #MFRWAuthor
Music effects us on a physical level as well as emotional. Our breath quickens, heart rate increases in response to some types of music. Music can calm those same functions. It's logical that listening to music which enhances emotional responses in writers helps them express those feelings in their writing.
We may not ever be lucky enough to find a song that inspires us to write a blockbuster movie, as Bon Jovi's Slippery When Wet did for Young Guns II, but we can hope that it spices up what we do write. There is so much music available that it would be impossible to NOT find a song that elicits the feeling we're trying to put on the page.
Music helps me get "into the zone" when I write. It can almost be a trancelike state when the writing is going well. And sometimes when I would rather do anything than write, a good song can call me to where I need to be. But it has to be the right music.
My go to music is Liquid Silk by Marina Raye, Wave by Beck, or Elephant Box by Ingrid Chavez. They help me relax. I never listen to the radio so am hopelessly out of touch with the top popular songs.
I find music on TV programs or in movies.
My fight scene, or intense scenes, work well with many of the entrance themes used by WWE wrestlers. Live in Fear, Voices, The Truth, Black and Blue, Catch Your Breath, and This is War. Any doubt you might have about the quality of this music can be easily erased when the music hits and the crowd erupts.
Drift from Pacific Rim and Young and Beautiful from Great Gatsby are two of the songs on my playlist. I would love to have a song out of Twilight that isn't for sale as far as I can tell, and I have searched for the theme to Blood Ties without any success. Way Down We Go from Lucifer joined music from Empire and Sons of Anarchy. i recently bought Silent Lucidity again as well as Misguided Angel by the Cowboy Junkies. Both were bought because they were on one show or another and I was reminded how much I liked them.
The common denominator for all of these songs is that they move me, cause me to feel a strong emotion. In turn, this emotion sparks and fuels my writing. What songs fuel you?
check out more great blogs!
My Hobbies Aren't What They Used to Be #MFRWAuthor
Writing is a time-intensive endeavor. From dreaming up stories to staying connected to those who enjoy my work, hours and hours are consumed bringing my characters to life.
When I’m not writing, much of my time is taken up by my dogs and with cleaning my house. These are not hobbies, of course. The word “hobby” suggests something fun. Let’s be honest: There is nothing fun about doing household tasks. Chores are dull and repetitive. You clean the kitchen one day and the next day you have to do it all over again.
On the other hand, I love my dogs very much, and they fill my heart with joy—most of the time. Maybe you would need to see the three-ring-circus that is the care and feeding of my needy pooches to understand why it's so all-consuming and not consistently enjoyable.
In the past, when writing was something I did for sheer enjoyment, I had lots of hobbies. I did needlework and crocheted. I gardened. I made presents for family and friends. I even did a little scrapbooking. Sadly, all of those activities require a time commitment that I no longer have. I still buy the Stampington magazines and crafting products, and PLAN the projects I will do "next Christmas", but mostly I just look at the pictures and wish I had more time.
Now when I have time to sit down and do nothing for brief periods, television seems to be my activity of choice. There are a few special shows I record. I watch when I have free time, such as Supernatural (#TeamDeanforever), Lucifer (#sexymf), Magicians (hate the main characters but #lovemesomeEliott), Grimm (#nothingwithoutMonroe), and new to the roster, Riverdale (#hookedandnotsurewhy). These programs lend themselves to binge watching when I my brain is fried from the daily grind. Other shows, like Netflix’s The Fall are so intense that I can only watch one episode at a time. I then have to spend any remaining free moments finding something (anything) lighthearted to view.
My most enduring pastime is researching whatever grabs my imagination. I’ll hear or see something that takes me down a rabbit hole by way of the Internet, library, or bookstore. This month I've researched H.H.Holmes, one of the first documented American serial killers, Admiral Byrd (the explorer) and Operation High Jump, Byrd’s invasion of Antarctica, now speculated to be UFO war. I am currently nursing a fledgling interest in genealogy. It began when my mother had her DNA tested and found, much to her surprise, that despite being raised as one ethnicity, she, in fact, has 0% of that DNA. Which means I, too, am not who I believed myself to be.
It's disquieting to learn you are not who or what you think you are. Since being one’s authentic self is the theme of most of my stories, this discovery offers interesting ideas for further writing. It seems I may have a new hobby I must play with for a while. What are your current hobbies? Check out these other fabulous blogs!
They love you anyway: Best Friends #MFRWAuthor
“Best friend” is an interesting, complex concept. It seems to have a variety of 
meanings, depending on who you're asking and the context.. To make it even more complicated, our understanding of “best friend” changes with each stage of development—at least in my observation. When you’re five, your best friend is the kid you see most often. When you’re a teenaged girl, it’s the person you giggle with. And when you’re middle-aged, it’s the person who simply understands you the most—and loves you despite yourself.
As a teen, my best friend and I shared a love of The Rolling Stones. We didn’t have access to concerts, but we spent time together listening to albums, hunting down the latest magazines with even the tiniest snippet of information and pictures. Oh, the pictures. The cooler and sexier the better. Mic Jaggar did not disappoint.
Our love of music didn’t end with Mic and the gang. We also got into the local music scene, going to clubs headlined by acts from across the region. We spent every free minute together. I thought we would always be friends, but it wasn’t meant to be. As time went on our interests changed. We saw less and less of each other. In tenth grade boys entered the picture, and we drifted apart for good. That relationship marked the last “best friend” in my life for many, many years.
When I met my current best friend, it was for a similar reason--lust, I mean, love of a popular rock star. The one and only Prince. She and I started as pen-pals, and met for the first time at one of his concerts in 1993. Although we lived 900 miles apart we kept writing. We also managed to visit frequently and attend dozens of his concerts together.
About twelve years ago, life took an interesting turn and brought me to New England. She’d recently moved here too. Distance isn't an issue anymore. We’re able to share a wider variety of interests. We've tried ski lodges, Niagara Falls, comic cons, shows like Supernaturalists, Cirque du Soleil, and I've even dragged her to WWE wrestling matches. We try new things, and encourage each other to be braver than we would be alone.
Besides our common interests, she is my confidant. She’s gives me a kick in the ass when the pity parties go on too long, and she is a safe shoulder to cry on. When I need help because my back is hurting, or because I again bought something that I can’t assemble alone (or given my tendency to put things together backwards or inside out, shouldn’t), she’s right there. I don’t even have to ask. She accepts me for who I am, with all my quirks and flaws that other people have tried to change.
Because she knows me so well, she understands it wouldn’t work anyway.
Check out these other great posts!
Comma Compulsion #MFRWAuthor #bloghop
My name is Trevann Rogers and I have comma issues.
There I said it. My challenges can be summed up in one word. Commas. Moreover, I'm an afficionado of the Shatner Comma as well as the Oxford comma.
With the first, it just makes sense to me that there should be a comma where I want the reader to pause. That pause can totally change the meaning of a sentence. It's really the only way to show inflection.The second is obvious as Eats Leaves and Shoots so aptly shows.
Despite owning several books dealing with grammar, and usually reading about commas several times during the editing process, I still seem to get them wrong. Fortunately, my editor still treats me kindly. Like I'm that quirky, outlandishly dressed second cousin who means well but never manages to hit the mark in terms of basic fashion.
I also have a penchant for leaving partial sentences when I rewrite a passage. Most of the time I catch them on the second go-round, but not always. I also do the opposite and leave out a crucial word when I change a sentence. I am an equal opportunity rewrite mangler. Except for commas most of my editing mistakes are carelessness. Since I know what I want to say, my mind fills in whatever should be there.
Fortunately, I'm lucky to belong to a writing group whose members excel at punctuation and haven't yet grown tired of catching those mistakes. With their help, I might have a chance at learning the comma rule. Then again, maybe, I won't.
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Just Hungry for a Good Story #MFRWAuthor #bloghop
I suppose it could be called a total lack of willpower. Or maybe it is incredible focus. Whatever you call it, I have it: A tendency to binge watch television programs.
With some shows, binging comes easy. Several seasons were available when I stumbled upon Stranger Things, Hemlock Grove, DareDevil, Luke Cage-Their stories captivated me. It was easy to just keep watching. It doesn't hurt that Netflix requires nothing of you to play the next episode. It just rolls on to the next one in the queue.
With other shows, I deliberately wait until the season is over before I start to watch. If I could only watch one episode at a time, Empire would frustrate me to the point that I would stop watching completely. Longmire falls into this category too. The main characters of both shows pull such stupid and illogical stunts that I would stop watching if I had to wait a week. Watching the season in it's entirely allows me to see the story unfold and resolve.
Then there is the third type of binge watching. I start at Season 1 and watch the entire series--and then start back at Season 1. Supernatural falls into this category. I cannot even calculate how many times I've watched this series from beginning to end. I also have favorite episodes I pull out if I only have a small amount of time. Usually these are humorous but not always.
Interestingly, this sort of binge isn't restricted to TV. How many times have I read the first six of the Anita Blake books? Or Tanya Huff's Shadow series? Or Stephanie Plum?
What brings on Binge #3? Mostly disappointment. When I can't find a new TV show that I like, or if I've started a few books that I can't force myself to finish, I go back to my favorites. The entertainment equivalent of comfort food.
Regardless of the type of binging, it isn't about lack of will power. It's about my hunger for a good story. What about you? Do you binge watch? If so, what do you hunger for?
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She Has My Back: Surviving the Writer's Life #MFRWAuthor
Both my partner and I are writers. We understand the craziness that happens when a deadline approaches, or writer's block moves in and settles down to stay awhile. We are lucky that we rarely have the same problem at the same time. We tend to be very supportive of each other's writing process.
She is slow and methodical. When she sits down to write she knows exactly what she wants to say. Because of her work schedule, she can’t write every day so she schedules marathon sessions. I have seen her put together a 70,000-word document in a weekend. On those days I stay handy to provide meals and snacks, do little bits of research, and play cheerleader.
On the other hand, I tend to decide what scene I need, close my eyes and picture it like a movie. I can then describe what I see. Unfortunately, sitting still for even an hour is torture. I just can’t do it. So short writing sessions every day works best for me.
I do a lot more rewriting and editing than she does. She'll listen to my endless rambling about the plot until I finally decide what I am writing, and she drags me back to the plot when I get another idea I think would work better. (It usually wouldn't. Its just newer and "shinier" and therefore more interesting to me.)
We cheer each other on when other family members, who will remain nameless, are not as encouraging. Like when a relative expresses shock that a book was published. Or another is so competitive that he must try to beat us at anything having to do with writing, such as winning Nanowrimo. Others who didn't even buy the book in the name of being supportive.
Despite the lack of support from our families, we continue to write. We have each other's back.
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Dress Up, Dress Down with Patricia Preston!
Please join me in welcoming author (and fellow Supernatural fan) Patricia Preston to the LAM blog! *****************
In Everything His Heart Desires, Brett “Hot Rod” Harris is a cardiologist, but he’s also a guy who was raised on the wrong side of town by his uncle who took him in when he was a little boy. He grew up working in his uncle’s car garage and he has a passion for muscle cars, which he collects. He’s considered the “James Dean” of the medical staff because he often wears a brown leather bomber jacket instead of a white coat. When he’s not in scrubs, he prefers tee shirts and jeans along with his jacket, all of which go perfectly with his fast cars from the Sixties and his attitude.
The heroine, Natalie, who has known Brett since high school, sums up his appearance in an excerpt from the book:
She had left the summer of her graduation from Lafayette High School fifteen years ago and never returned. Not until now. She had never expected to have another cup of coffee in the Country Corner Café.
And she’d certainly never expected to see Brett Harris again.
She shook her head, amused as she thought of him, checking her out in the elevator and going for it. He still oozed with confidence and cockiness. The genius from the wrong side of town who didn’t let anything intimidate him.
Nobody could sport a leather bomber jacket and jeans as well as Brett.
She had to admit he was actually better looking now than he had been in high school. More mature. Laugh lines enhanced his hazel eyes, which were a blend of deep green and light gold. His coffee-brown hair was thick and unruly, which she’d always liked, and he was in need of a shave. He wore masculinity well.
EVERYTHING HIS HEART DESIRES
The man most likely to drive her crazy…
Growing up in Lafayette Falls, senator’s daughter Natalie Layton hid her sorrows behind a bright smile that charmed everyone in high school—except Brett Harris. Hardworking and highly motivated, Brett disissed Natalie as a slacker. Instead, she’s become an acclaimed photographer. And when Brett, now a successful cardiologist, needs her family’s help to secure a coveted position, Natalie’s more than happy to prescribe a little payback…
Hailing from the wrong side of the tracks, Brett believed he could never win the school’s popular princess. Now he’s intrigued by the complex and compassionate woman Natalie’s become. Gaining her grandmother’s goodwill is the key to becoming chief cardiologist—and Natalie has no intention of making it easy. But as mutual mistrust gives way to pure chemistry, there’s more at stake than either ever expected—and much more to learn about matters of the heart…
Buy Links: Amazon Nook Kobo Google Play iTunes
Patricia Preston loves writing mainstream romantic fiction where love matters most as well as short stories and historicals. She has won the William Faulkner Award for Short Fiction, the Lone Star Writing Competition for Historical Romance, and Harlequin's World's Best Romances Short Story Competition. The small Southern town where she resides and her work in local medical clinics and hospitals both provided inspiration for her “Love Heals All” series. Besides writing, she enjoys photography, cooking, movies, bargain hunting, driving the Natchez Trace and visiting historical sites.
For info on new releases and contests, sign up for her newsletter
Visit her Blog. Follow her Twitter and Amazon
From the Author:
Thanks for joining us today. I write mainstream romantic fiction as well as funny short stories. Must haves in my writing cave include sweet tea, epic music and plenty of notebooks. Besides writing, I love music, history, the French Quarter, photography, reading and anything containing chocolate. I’m a fangirl of Supernatural and Walking Dead. I don’t do much with my life other than write.
If you like single title romances that are filled with family, friends, drama and fun, check out my Love Heals All series, set in the picturesque town of Lafayette Falls, south of Nashville. Or if you like historicals filled with adventure and passion, you might enjoy “To Save a Lady,” set in the sultry French Quarter in 1814 featuring a dashing captain and an elusive French spy.
You can follow me and check out my titles at my Amazon author page
or visit my website at www.patricia-preston.com and stop by my blog. Be sure to sign up for my newsletter! Thanks!
Dress Up, Dress Down with Author Rosalie Redd
Thanks, Rosalie, for dropping by the LAM Blog!
What do my characters wear? The characters in my Warriors of Lemuria series live in an underground Keep in the forests of the Pacific Northwest. Tanen is the hero in Unimaginable Lover, book 3 of my Warriors of Lemuria series. He is a Stiyaha, one of the shape-shifting Lemurian warriors sent here from the planet Lemuria to battle over Earth’s most precious resource—water. Educated and cultured, Tanen has an affinity for the finer things in life, including his clothing. He wears hand-tailored slacks, a finely crafted belt, button-down cotton shirts with a starched collar, the required warrior boots, and his lapel pin. The finely crafted jewelry represents Lemuria or “Mu” and life ever after. The slightest wrinkle or crease in his clothing is not tolerated, and he wouldn’t be caught dead without his pin.
As council leader, Tanen must uphold the laws. When he takes on a solo mission to track down a traitor, things don’t go as planned. Mortally wounded, he seeks shelter from the sun’s killing rays in the closest structure he can find—a ramshackle shed on human territory. Rescued by a kind-hearted woman, she nurses him back to health. The disarray in her home grates on his nerves, but not as much as his desire for the forbidden human female.
Blurb:
A shifter and a human together? Unimaginable…
One careless decision. The colony betrayed. Tanen’s only course is a desperate hunt for justice, but his solo mission is cut short when he’s mortally wounded. Rescued by a sweet, innocent woman, he can’t deny the passion that burns between them. Now he must choose between his duty and honor or his desire for the precious, but forbidden, human female.
Broken promises and ruined love hardened Sheri’s heart. When she finds an injured and extraordinarily sexy man on her property, she’s pulled into a world she never imagined. As she nurses him back to health and they bond over their love of books, she’s torn between the lessons she learned from her rough past and the need to seek solace in Tanen’s arms, but she must learn to trust him, and herself, in order to survive.
Bio:
After finishing a rewarding career in finance and accounting, it was time for award-winning author Rosalie Redd to put away the spreadsheets and take out the word processor. She pens paranormal, science fiction, and fantasy romance in her office cave located in Oregon, where rain is just another excuse to keep writing.
Social media links:
Website: http://www.rosalieredd.com
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/rosaliereddauthor
Twitter: https://twitter.com/RosalieRedd
Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/user/show/34148783-rosalie-redd
Pinterest: https://www.pinterest.com/rosalieredd/
Amazon author page: https://www.amazon.com/author/rosalieredd 
Excerpt:
A nervous chuckle bubbled from her lips. “See, Coop, no problem—”
Coop pushed past her, and a low growl eased from him. In all the time she’d had him, he’d never reacted this way before. She gripped his collar, holding him in place.
Thump.
Her heart skipped a beat before revving into overdrive. Adrenaline surged through her veins, her face tingling from the rush of blood. The urge to flee overwhelmed her, and the muscles in her legs and arms tensed.
“Ahhhh…” a distinctive male voice eased from the gloom.
Coop lunged, yanking against her grip. His barks continued.
“Quiet, Coop!” Her companion hushed, but he strained against her hold.
A dark form slumped against the far wall.
She inhaled and took a step back.
The man groaned louder.
“Who are you? What are you doing in my shed?”
The only sounds, his labored breaths and her own heartbeat.
She emboldened her tone with as much confidence as she could. “You’re trespassing. I’m calling the police.”
“No…don’t.” His words were short, strained, yet the tenor of his voice weaseled its way into the deepest recesses of her soul. The sensation warmed her insides. She held her breath.
He moaned again. His dark form moved.
Her medical training kicked in and she had the urge to rush to his side and help him, but she remained wary. “Are you injured? Should I call an ambulance?”
“Is it dark outside?” His strained speech carried across the small space.
A strange desire to hear him speak again washed over her. She fisted her hand. “What difference does it make if it’s dark outside? If you’re injured, you need help.”
“Please, tell me…is it,” a quick intake of breath, “…dark yet?”
The cultured way he spoke made her still. She’d never heard his accent before. Sweat broke out on the back of her neck, dampening her collar. He seemed in pain, but she wasn’t sure. Her curiosity warred with her fear, and she wavered between barricading herself in her house with Coop and rushing to aid him. Instead, she remained fixed in place.
“It’s dusk,” she choked out, her throat tightening from her confusion.
He leaned his head against the wall. She couldn’t see his features, but from his outline, she could tell he was a large man. “Don’t…fear me. I’ll leave…soon…dark.” His words washed over her again, stroking her insides.
With a quick move, he stood. A stifled groan eased from his lips, and he rested his shoulder against the wall.
She took a step back. It took all of her inner strength not to run.
Buy links:
Amazon US: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B01N7K0PCU
Amazon AU: https://www.amazon.com.au/dp/B01N7K0PCU
Amazon UK: https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B01N7K0PCU
Amazon CA: https://www.amazon.ca/dp/B01N7K0PCU
B&N: http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/unimaginable-lover-rosalie-redd/1125333110
Kobo: https://www.kobo.com/us/en/ebook/unimaginable-lover
ibooks: https://itunes.apple.com/us/book/id1185271791
