As I sat down to write this blog, I drew an absolute blank. I think I’m brain dead. I mean that notorious “writer’s block” that occasionally hits an author when least expected finally has infected my muse.
What is there to talk about today that others haven’t already mentioned here? I’m new at this writing business, only been doing it full-time since 2010 and I have ten books published with several releasing this year and have a couple I’m almost finished with and will be submitting in a month or two. Whew! No wonder I’m running on empty.
It’s not like I can’t come up with new ideas for stories. Geesh! I have several floating around in my head waiting for me to put them down on paper, on my laptop actually, and have no problem writing the next manuscript. What I have a quandary over is coming up with something fresh to share on a blog. This one in particular.
Do I share current events revolving around the publishing industry? There’s been a flood of the topic with the PayPal and what appears to be a big bulls-eye on erotic/a authors. Nope, I really can’t add to what has been put out there. Promotion? Don't think so, been there on that subject on several blogs and chats over the past several months. Holidays? We’re over them, until the next one rolls around anyway. How about contests? Oh, sorry, we here at RBRU are doing one for St. Patrick’s, which by the way is a great one! For details, you can go to the website, http://www.romancebooksrus.com. Please go take a look a play along. Sorry, forgive me for the shameless plug.
How about writer’s block? Funny, I’m in the middle of writing this now, not about a story, but about writing this dang page. I’ve thought all day about what I'd bring to the table this month. No make that, I've been thinking hard for several days. I knew this night would come, the dreaded 12:01 AM critical time to post, and it wouldn't go away. I kept putting it off, working furiously at my two WIPs, doing housework, going outside in the beautiful Florida weather, play with my granddaughter, talk to hubby about stupid stuff, anything to keep my mind off the deadline.
Well, here I am at 11:03 PM and I give up. I think I’ll just post a short blurb and an excerpt from my latest release. I’ve never done that before on this blog. I guess if all else fails in getting that touchdown, punt.
Next month, I promise to have something more enlightening to share. This is a long month, yeah! I’ll have two extra days to come up with a blog worth reading. Until then. . .
BLURB from A Vampire in Paris:
The attraction is instant, but their new found love will be tested on the journey to love eternal.
For over two hundred years, London-based security and private investigator, Ramsey Weiss has existed as the quintessential confirmed bachelor. New Years’ Day he is dispatched to Paris, France, to rescue an abducted cosmetics company heiress. In the melee, he butts heads with an unexpected woman.
Camille du Bassin is the head chemist at Institut de Beauté Biologique and her niece has been kidnapped. She teams up with a private security investigator with special skills hired by her brother. The two unlikely pair work together playing a dangerous game of cat-and-mouse not only with each other, but battle an evil ancient vampire determined to take Camille as his consort. Somewhere along the journey, Camille and Ramsey are surprised by the physical attraction that develops between them, denying the attraction.
Just when the two lovers' think their love can be forever...Fate steps in to challenge the power of their love.
Bloody bollocks! What the hell is wrong with this woman? He kept his eye color from changing as well as maintaining a pleasant smile with no fangs showing. No sense scaring the woman, although she could use a fright and lose the stick up her arse. Keep calm.
Ramsey’s stamina quickly began to falter. He didn’t have much time left to do his preliminary interrogation of Camille du Bassin, Mademoiselle du Bassin, and the biggest Be-atch of Paris. No wonder she was unmarried at her age, she probably nagged any poor guy to death before he’d consider walking down the aisle with her.
“Monsieur Weiss, since your time is limited, I believe my sister can take you to my daughter’s flat and she can answer your questions along the way,” Étienne suggested as he sternly regarded Camille. “D’accord?”
“Bien. But, an hour eez all I can spare. I have work to do.” She glared at him, the green of her eyes glowed, intriguing and unique. Anger oozed from every pore on her skin and he sensed it, smelled her blood.
An hour with her is all I can stand. “Sounds good to me. Is the flat far from here?” Spending much more than an hour or even two would be too long, but to find Julliana, his Giselle, he’d make the sacrifice spending time with the exasperating woman standing before him. Women were his passion, he loved women, but this one he’d make an exception.
“Vas-y, Monsieur Weiss.” The be-atch turned on her spiky heels to leave.
“Oh please, call me Ramsey.”
With a haughty attitude, she peered over her shoulder. “You may call me Mademoiselle du Bassin.”
More like bitch. This is going to be one hell of a long hour. The unlikely pair left the executive offices and entered the elevator, taking the four floor descent in silence. They made their way to the outside and after hailing a cab, and twenty minutes later arrived at an apartment building in the Le Marais District. After climbing three flights of stairs, they stood at the door of Apartment 3C.
“After you, Monsieur Weiss.” The emphasis on his name by the irritating aunt of Giselle made him grit his teeth. A slight upward curl of his lips was the extent of what he mustered. Their short trip to the flat had been nothing but silence between them, except for the one question he attempted to ask before getting cut off.
“Merci and I insist on Ramsey,” he enunciated succinctly. The politeness level wore thin. If Braedon got pissed with his attitude, so be it. He wanted to do his job, but sometimes the politics involved with each assignment rubbed him the wrong way.
Ramsey couldn’t read the woman, neither body nor mind. What ax did she have to grind with him? He believed as Giselle’s aunt, her family, the woman would be cooperative and want him to do everything possible to find her niece. After all, he was one of the best investigators at GSIS and considering his past relationship with the victim of the case, he’d have an advantage in finding her. But, maybe Miss du Bassin doesn’t know who and what I really am?
The nuisance named Camille pushed closer. “What are you doing? Can I help?”
After drawing attention away from scanning of the small living area of the flat, he met the unusual emerald green eyes, which now had softened to a few shades lighter. Still intense and sparkling, he recognized no anger deep inside this time. “No, but I do have a few questions for you.”
“Bien. What do you need to know?”
What you are hiding is more like it. Through half-hooded eyes he tried piercing the armor erected around her mind. Small glimpses of symbols and steel, sterile rooms brightly lit materialized in his mental visions. She worked at the Institute, maybe she worked in a lab. “When did you last see Gis—Julliana? I don’t think I’ll get used to calling her that.”
“I had lunch with her two days ago.” She wandered over to the brown and cream striped couch, sat, and continued to ask, “You never answered me at my brother’s office. Where do you know Julli?”
With narrowed eyes, he stared intently at her delicate facial features wondering why she cared. She already suspected him of being a stalker and a young punk, what difference would it make to her how he knew Giselle. Regardless of his previous relationship, this was a well-paying job and he’d treat the client no differently than if they were strangers meeting for the first time. But, he answered without thinking one more reason not to answer. “We met in Elounda, Crete several months ago. We were close…for a while.” Turning away from her, he continued to survey the room, searching for any clue that might lead him to Giselle.
That’s it! See ya next month.