Author Spotlight - Blurb & Excerpt from "Rising Above"

Thanks so much for supporting Toni during her week in the spotlight. Enjoy this blurb and excerpt from her latest release, "Rising Above."

Moderator Steph

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BLURB:
When modern-day tomboy Wilda Stone is blown back through time to 1874, her hot air balloon crashes above the Owens Valley. Stoic undercover agent Hal Grantham comes to her rescue, promising to take her to the silver mining town of Cerro Gordo. A severe sand storm keeps him from keeping his promise and forces them to seek shelter overnight in a cave, compromising her reputation and forcing Hal into a marriage of convenience.

Wilda is a misfit in Cerro Gordo, too, where their turbulent marriage is filled with adventures, adjustments, and above all else, loving. Then a diphtheria epidemic sweeps through the silver mining town. This same disease felled Hal's first wife and child, so to guarantee Wilda a long life Hal secretly repairs her balloon, and then sends her back to her own time, shattering Wilda's heart. Is her love for her terse husband strong enough to bring this headstrong Caltrans flagperson safely back to Hal's time?


Excerpt:
While the borrowed garments hugged her body with unexpected softness, her reflected image in a long skirt stunned Wilda. She cared little for dresses, and had never worn long skirts. Even as a child, she'd avoided dress-up events. Give her a pair of well-worn jeans and broken-in boots and she was content.

How would she manage those crooked stairs without breaking her neck?

She tried to emulate the way she'd seen Dottie lift her skirt and glide up the stairs, but Wilda's awkward movements only served to hamper her instead. She would trip herself for sure, but she wouldn't need these skirts for long.

Once she found a way to leave...

How could she be certain she could find her way back to her home? Back to her own time?

If only the wind hadn't...

One moment the air was still. The next, she was rushing toward the forbidden magnetic field, the wind at her back and the flame of her furnace extinguished, her balloon out of control.

She had the unpredictable wind to blame for bringing her to Cerro Gordo, although at some future time she wouldn't mind at all visiting here, given the opportunity to choose the time.

The year 2012 would do just fine.

What year is this?

And how do I go about leaving here and returning home?

The room was growing dark. Wilda ran her hand along the wallpaper beside the door in hopes of finding a light switch.

She tried the other wall. Nothing.

At last she noticed the matches and oil lamp on the table, the lamp so like the treasured antique one her grandmother had prominently displayed. She'd overlooked it. Wilda lit the lamp, adjusted the wick, and admired her reflection in the clear glass globe.

The soft glow from the lamp subdued the color of her auburn hair. Highlights flickered in unexpected places. For once her generous proportions pleased her, softened to acceptable curves by the welcome circle of light. Her cheeks glowed with excitement -- or windburn -- but her stomach growled from hunger.

Someone tapped on her door. She took a hesitant step toward it. "Yes?"

"Miss Stone? Are you presentable? It's Dottie. May I come in?"

Wilda turned the key in the lock, slid the bolt, and finally opened the door. Dottie stepped in. Hal followed, quickly shoving the door closed.

"My, my, aren't you the pretty one," Dottie said, giving her a tentative smile, but Wilda hadn't missed the worried look her visitors exchanged. "Are you ready for dinner?"

"Oh, yes. I'm quite--"

"Look, Wilda," Hal said, impatiently interrupting her. "There's not much time to explain because we're late for supper. Just remember, whatever happens downstairs, follow my lead. Understand?"

What did he anticipate happening? They were only going to eat a meal. She gave him a puzzled nod.

"Good. You'll be eating at the table with Dottie and me." As if by habit, he touched the gun strapped to his hip. "I guess we're ready, then."

Wilda's heart gave an anxious flutter, but anticipation far outweighed any worry she entertained as she and Dottie trooped out into the hall. Hal followed. Ace fell in step behind when Hal moved out in front. At the head of the stairs they paused.

From below came the rumble of rowdy voices. Wilda's pulse quickened. To her surprise, she had no difficulty descending the stairs.

Dottie reached the main floor and ducked into a small room furnished as a parlor. The others followed, and all but Wilda engaged in a whispered conference. While waiting for them to finish, she noticed an Inyo County newspaper and a copy of Peterson's Magazine on the lamp table nearby.

Casually, Wilda unfolded and lifted the paper. The headline read "Lone Pine, California Rebuilds Following Disastrous Quake." Dated October 1, 1874, the lead article detailed the devastation that had occurred on March 26, 1872, when an earthquake shook residents of the quiet valley from their beds.

Is this October of 1874?

The corners of the newspaper were dog-eared from frequent handling, but the printed pages showed no sign of age. Wilda estimated the paper couldn't be more than a week old.

A hard knot formed in her stomach. Now she knew the year, she could no longer deny her worrisome suspicions.

Somehow, she had stepped back in time. Her pulse throbbed.

What else had happened in 1874?

The chase for gold in California had slowed to a crawl then and the Civil War had ended.

What else? Was California a state yet?

With all her heart she wished she'd paid more attention to her history lessons.
Why did it matter? Women weren't yet allowed to vote, she was sure.

Without giving Wilda sufficient time to absorb the reality of her predicament, Dottie turned toward the jumble of voices and entered a large paneled room. Wilda had no choice but to drop the newspaper and follow.

Oil fueled glass chandeliers hung from the ceiling. White oilcloth covered the tables arranged in three long rows. She remembered the shiny surface from her childhood. As Wilda entered, a hush fell over the room. A dozen miners sat at each table, their eyes all turned on her. Forks halted in mid-air. Although she followed close behind Dottie, Wilda's skirt caught on a chair leg, tripping her.

Her cheeks heated. Clumsy goose.

Hal, who had somehow wound up behind her, reached to steady her by placing his hand on her upper arm. Her cheeks burned hotter still. Careful now of every step, she watched the placement of her feet with lowered gaze.

From the corner of her eye she saw Hal stop long enough to hang his Stetson on a peg by the door. For some unexplained reason, she took comfort in the sound of his steps behind her.

Dottie led the way to an empty table, showed Wilda where to sit, and headed for the kitchen without waiting for her friends to take their seats.

Hal held Wilda's chair, bending to whisper in her ear, "Dottie's seeing to the food."
He took the place on her right and gave the occupants of the room an intimidating look. Wilda frowned.

Ace sat at the end of the table, surveying the room, his eyes never still, his shoulders tense, waiting, as if he expected something to happen.

What?

Wilda couldn't comprehend the need for a bodyguard, or for the whispered words and knowing looks she'd so far observed but, following Hal's instructions, kept her questions to herself.

Dottie and Chang Li placed white pottery bowls heaped with stew before the newcomers, and then Dottie sank into the vacant chair across from Wilda. The other diners didn't resume talking until Dottie began to eat.

Chang Li placed a cup of steaming coffee before Wilda. Delighted, she sipped the strong brew. In an effort to appease her raging hunger and to give her hands a task, she tackled her stew, a meaty concoction well seasoned with pepper and tasting of wild onions.

She finished it off quickly, along with the dark, yeasty bread.

"The lady has a healthy appetite," Dottie commented.

Wilda glanced around the table. Her bowl was the only empty one. Her cheeks took on new fire. Intense hunger had caused her to forget her manners.

"Everything is so delicious," she said lamely.

Hal and Dottie laughed at her flustered explanation, attracting attention of the miners seated nearby. The men stared at her with interest. One man's openly lascivious grin made Wilda's flesh crawl. She quickly looked away from him, right into Hal's unreadable gaze. After a moment in which her heart thumped wildly, he turned back to his stew.

Looking beyond the heads turned her direction, Wilda saw the evening sky through windows draped with forest green tapestry over sheer curtains of lace. A wide opening to the kitchen revealed the cook stirring a steaming pot on the massive black cooking stove.

The men began leaving the tables, slapping each other on the back, and politely tipping their hats to Wilda. She smiled at the courtesy.

Uh-oh. My mistake.

A toothless man whose shaggy growth of beard partially hid a wide grin separated himself from the group and headed for their table. Hal and Ace both came to attention.

"Evenin' Miss," the miner said, and preened. "Josh Buckston, at your service."

Hal narrowed his eyes at Wilda. She ducked her head, but tuned her ears to listen.

"Looks like the lady's finished with her food," Josh said, apparently for Hal's benefit. "Would you care to step out on the porch with me for a nice breath of fresh air?"

Wilda glanced up before she heard Hal gritting his teeth. "The lady's taken, Buckston," he warned.

"Can't blame a man for trying," Josh said, backing away.

He joined his friends waiting for him near the door. The men leaned in close to hear what he had to say, then stared back over their shoulders at Hal, who raked the cluster of men with a heated look.

Once the group had sauntered out, Hal turned to her, a small smile softening his features. "I'm sorry, Miss Stone," he said. "These men don't often have the occasion to see a pretty woman. I forgot how forward they tend to act at times."

Hal possessed way more gall than Josh Buckston. She was quite capable of speaking for herself. He might at least have given her the opportunity to turn aside the miner's attention, but no. He'd warned her not to speak to the men.

Well, she wouldn't allow Hal's presumptuous rules to run her life.

While no one previously crossing her path had showed any interest in taking her out, the miner who'd approached their table didn't hold any appeal to Wilda. She let her gaze travel about the room, much aware of everyone observing her every move from across the dining hall. She didn't see one she'd care to sit with. Certainly none she'd choose to walk with along a dark road.

Besides, not a man in the room held a candle to Hal. She glanced at him, now deeply involved in whispered conversation with Dottie.

He grimaced and a tiny frown marred the smoothness of his forehead. Somewhere, he'd taken the time to shave and slick his dark hair. It skimmed the collar of his newly laundered black shirt. She was aware of the shirt's aroma, lye soap and the scent of what she supposed was bay rum.

Hal glanced up and caught her smiling. His frown deepened into an aggravated scowl. He shook his head at something Dottie said, but continued to stare at Wilda, trying to communicate some unspoken message she failed to interpret.

Perhaps he'd guessed her thoughts. At the strong possibility, Wilda looked away, flushing, but his words replayed in her mind, and the way he'd looked at her when he referred to her as a pretty woman.

Another group of diners entered and Chang Li soundlessly scurried about, clearing tables and arranging clean place settings of tin utensils.

One of the new arrivals failed to take a seat, choosing instead to head directly toward the table where Wilda and her companions sat. A determined gleam flashed from his eyes, a cocky self-assurance his unwashed face and hands proved unjustified.
At the last minute, he dragged his hat from his head and came to a halt opposite her. He hesitated and squashed his hat against his chest. "Miss, you've done run off with my heart. Marry up with me?"

The miner's flowery speech triggered a grin Willa thought best she swallow. Beside her, Hal stiffened then cleared his throat. Fists clenched, his body half out of the chair, Hal announced to the entire room, "Miss Stone is promised to me."

Toni hangs out here:
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http://www.ToniNoelAuthor.com/blog.html www.ToniNoelAuthor.com

And you can download her books here:
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Here:
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Or from your favorite eBook store.

Author Spotlight - Toni Noel talks about the setting for "Rising Above"

Come with me on a visit to the mountain where Wilda Stone's hot air balloon crashed in 1874. The air is crisp in the ghost silver mining town of Cerro Gordo, California, this time of year and gentle breezes blow across the mountain peak and over the crash site. In the distance you can see Owens Valley, and across the valley the snow-tipped peaks around Mt. Whitney.

Only an occasional vehicle turns near Swansea and makes the steep climb up the dirt road, so the only sounds you hear are the call of birds or a dog's bark.

The first thing a visitor sees is the manmade pyramid of rock outside the main shaft, a geologist's dream made up of ore-less rock removed to reach the good stuff. A small railcar once used to haul the rock from the mine dangles precariously over the pyramid. Scattered all around it is a graveyard of rusty, abandoned mining equipment left behind when the rich silver vein played out.

Further up the road is the real cemetery, burial place of a number of Chinese workers felled by sickness and an equal number of ill fated miners who met their maker in a mine cave-in, or staring down a gun barrel leveled to end a quarrel.

The mountain is dotted with home sites no longer occupied, most of them caves. Bottle collectors like to dig in the ruins of those sites, but there's not much left. Previous collectors have just about picked the hillside clean.

The history buff encounters something of interest at every turn. The smoke stacks of two ornate furnaces used for smelting the ore have withstood the elements and still stand, stately monuments to their builders.

The Yellow Road has been extended and visitors who favor rough roads in modern four-wheel drive vehicles go on over the hill and eventually reach Death Valley, but it's not a recommended you take that route because of constantly shifting sand.

The remains of Billy Crapo's store, the assayer's office and the American Hotel interest most visitors, as do the Chinese cook's house and the home Mortimer Belshaw built for himself, but since the owner of Cerro Gordo's death, the caretaker on site discourages visitors from lingering. The setting sun is kind to Cerro Gordo, extending the shadows and painting golden highlights on the few wooden structures in its path.

Toni hangs out here:
http://twitter.com/toninoelwriter http://www.facebook.com/AuthorToniNoel
http://www.ToniNoelAuthor.com/blog.html www.ToniNoelAuthor.com
And you can download her books here:
Here:
http://stores.desertbreezepublishing.com/-strse-362/Rising-Above-Toni-Noel/Detail.bok
Here:
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And here:
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Or from your favorite eBook store.

Author Spotlight - History of Cerro Gordo Mine

Los Angeles was still a sleepy pueblo when Mortimer Belshaw of San Francisco began financing mining operations at the Cerro Gordo mine on the mountain peak by the same name in central California. He built a steep and winding toll road he named the Yellow Road from the valley up to the mine, then built a smelter on the shores of Owens Lake to extract the silver from the rock miners removed with picks.

The silver ingots, obtained when ore-rich rock was put through the smelter ,were then shipped on oxen-pulled, teamster-driven wagons to the port of Los Angeles for shipment to San Francisco, or to the bank.

Eventually two competing furnaces were built in Cerro Gordo and used to separate the silver from the rock, thus avoiding sending heavy loads of rock down the often muddy Yellow Road. The ingots had to be transported at great expense over long distances, and several shipping companies went bankrupt doing it.

The miners risked their lives every time they entered the mines. Trees were scarce on the mountain, so wood was seldom used to shore up the tunnels and frequent cave-ins took many lives. When it rained the mineshafts flooded. The more industrious workers prospected on their own mountainside claims on their day off. Housing was one small room dug into the mountainside, with a tarp for a door and sod for the roof, which got heavy and collapsed when it rained.

For their five and a half days of hard labor, the workers were paid 4 dollars, two hot meals a day at the American Hotel, and a cold lunch eaten in the mine. Water was scarce and all food and supplies had to be hauled up the mountain by mule-pulled wagons. The teamsters who drove those wagons had the best paying jobs.

The twice-daily stagecoaches dropped off hopeful prospectors at the American Hotel and carried the discouraged ones ready to throw in the towel down the hill to seek a better life. The stage was robbed at least once a week.

Life in Cerro Gordo was hard, cold, and uninteresting for most of the residents until October of 1874 when Wilda Stone, the heroine of Rising Above, crashed her hot air balloon near the town and turned the life of the local lawman upside down.

Author Toni Noel hangs out here:
http://twitter.com/toninoelwriter http://www.facebook.com/AuthorToniNoel
http://www.ToniNoelAuthor.com/blog.html www.ToniNoelAuthor.com

And you can download her books here:
http://stores.desertbreezepublishing.com/-strse-template/Toni%20Noel/Page.bok
Here:
http://stores.desertbreezepublishing.com/-strse-362/Rising-Above-Toni-Noel/Detail.bok
And here:
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Or from your favorite eBook store.

Author Spotlight - Character interview with Hal Grantham, Hero of "Rising Above."

Author: Hal Grantham, I think everyone in Cerro Gordo wants to know where you were when you found Wilda Stone, the tall woman who rode into town behind you on your horse? Would you mind telling us?

Hal: The other side of Cerro Gordo Peak. I was moving in on the bandits who robbed the noon stage last week when she landed on me from out of nowhere. Those bandits got plum away, but with her help I recovered the loot.

Author: Did you ask her how she came to be there?

Hal: Couldn't get a believable answer out of that woman to save my life, and she was wearing the strangest clothes, the kind a teamster might wear, overalls, fancy boots, and something for her head she called a helmet, none of it suitable for a lady.

Author: How did you get her back to town?

Hal: On my horse, Satan. Took some doing though.

Author: She'd never been on a horse?

Hal: No, that wasn't the problem. She said all her neighbors in Riverside kept horses. I have no notion where that settlement is, though. Strong wind is what caused all my problems. It picked up tumble weeds and gravel and tossed it at Satan. Made my horse shy, and the blowing sand near blinded me.

Author: What did you do?

Hal: The only thing I could do. Covered everything but my eyes with my bandana and watched for a cave big enough to shelter us till it died down.

Author: Did you find one?

Hal: Just in time, it turned out. Wilda was about tuckered out, fighting that wind.
Author: How long before the wind let up?

Hal: Too long. I was cooped up in that cave with a restless woman and a thousand pound horse for two days and nights.

Author: Uh-oh.

Hal: Uh-oh is right. That woman can't just sit down and whittle like a normal person.
Had to be walking or talking most all the time, sometimes both.

Author: But when the wind died down you made it safely to Cerro Gordo, right?

Hal: Wrong. No unmarried woman is ever safe around those love-starved miners.

Author: Oh, dear. I forgot about them. Where is Wilda now?

Hal: Cooped up at the American Hotel and chomping at the bit to get back home, I imagine.

Author: Why is that, I wonder?

Hal: I proposed to the dang woman, but she turned me down. Claims she don't care if her reputation is compromised. She wants nothing to do with a forced marriage.


Author Toni Noel hangs out here:
http://twitter.com/toninoelwriter http://www.facebook.com/AuthorToniNoel
http://www.ToniNoelAuthor.com/blog.html www.ToniNoelAuthor.com

And you can download her books here:
http://stores.desertbreezepublishing.com/-strse-template/Toni%20Noel/Page.bok
Here:
http://stores.desertbreezepublishing.com/-strse-362/Rising-Above-Toni-Noel/Detail.bok
And here:
http://www.amazon.com/s/ref=nb_sb_noss?url=search-alias%3Dstripbooks&field-keywords=Toni+Noel&x=13&y=20
Or from your favorite eBook store.

Author Spotlight - Q&A with Toni Noel

STEPH: I don't know much about "Rising Above." What's it about?

TONI: In "Rising Above" a misfit heroine takes off in a hot air balloon race, is caught in strong crosswinds and forced back in time to 1874, where she's rescued by an undercover Pinkerton agent. A sandstorm forces them off his horse and to seek shelter in a cave. The wind continues to blow for two days. He insists their stay has compromised her reputation and demands she marry him. Wilda has no intention of entering into a forced marriage. She only wants help getting back to the 21st Century and her home in Riverside, California. The hero, Hal, is determined to keep her out of the reach of love-starved silver miners, and to guarantee her safety. That's difficult, since Wilda is accustomed to working outdoors, and is easily bored.
She agrees to let Hal court her, just to get out of the American Hotel, but falls in love with him, and they marry as soon as a preacher comes to town. Wilda has a lot of adjusting to do, and a lot to learn, but to occupy her time she opens a school for the miner's children and shares her knowledge with them until a diphtheria epidemic spreading through the town shuts down her school. Wilda argues that in her time she had childhood inoculations to prevent the disease, and tends the sick against Hal's wishes. He fears losing her to the sickness, the same one responsible for the sudden death of his wife and young son while he was away on a Pinkerton assignment, and secretly repairs Wilda's balloon so he can send her back to her own time.

STEPH: How long did it take you to write?

TONI: It took about six months to write this time travel historical. Writing a historical is easy for me, for I've lived through a lot of the history.

STEPH: How much research did you have to do?

TONI: We spent two weekends in the restored ghost town of Cerro Gordo, where I listened to tales of its history and bought a book put out by the local historical society. While photographing the town I decided to write the book, and absorbed as much of the local color as I could while I was there.

STEPH:How does the cover reflect the story within?

TONI: My cover is amazing, exactly what I asked for on the cover, but so much more.

STEPH: Wilda Stone is the heroine. What are her strengths? Weakness?

TONI: She was a tomboy growing up, but has never been asked out by anyone, not even the boys she grew up with. She's taller than the other women in Cerro Gordo, and strong willed, which causes Hal no end of problems. She's an excellent seamstress, but a hazard waiting to happen in the kitchen. This headstrong young woman has a big heart and a cheerful disposition, but you wouldn't want her washing your dishes.

STEPH: What does Hal find appealing about her?

TONI: The same characteristics that have him tearing his hair out endear Wilda to Hal. She's always ready to lend a helping hand, and to question his decisions.

STEPH: What is the theme of the novel?

TONI: Love conquers all.

STEPH: As a writer, where do you draw inspiration from?

TONI: I draw most of my inspiration from happenings around me. I never know when inspiration for a book will strike me, whether it's a boarded up house in a ritzy neighborhood, the hunky temp employee I interviewed and hired, or a decaying mining town.

STEPH: Do you have an eBook reader? If so, which one?

TONI: I have a NOOK and a Kindle, and alternate between reading on one of them and reading print books. I like the handy size of my Kindle, but prefer the larger screen on my NOOK.

STEPH: Fun question: What do you like to do for Thanksgiving? Is there something you like to bake? How do you fix your turkey? Brine it? Fry it? Bake it?

TONI: I'm like Wilda. My husband no longer lets me in the kitchen until after the meal. I devil the eggs and chill the green stuff -- a congealed salad with nuts -- ahead of time and help him get the turkey into a turkey bag for baking, then stay out of his way. Everyone comes home for Thanksgiving, wouldn't miss it, but just once I'd like to go to the Thanksgiving feast at the Ahwahnee Hotel.

Author Toni Noel hangs out here:
http://twitter.com/toninoelwriter http://www.facebook.com/AuthorToniNoel
http://www.ToniNoelAuthor.com/blog.html www.ToniNoelAuthor.com

And you can download her books here:
http://stores.desertbreezepublishing.com/-strse-template/Toni%20Noel/Page.bok
Here:
http://stores.desertbreezepublishing.com/-strse-362/Rising-Above-Toni-Noel/Detail.bok
And here:
http://www.amazon.com/s/ref=nb_sb_noss?url=search-alias%3Dstripbooks&field-keywords=Toni+Noel&x=13&y=20
Or from your favorite eBook store.

Author Spotlight - Excerpt from Temp to Permanent

Temp To Permanent Blurb

Because Carina Carrington equates happiness with success, she has a sound business and a nonexistent sex life. To replace her ailing secretary the agency sends over Greg Lawless, a secretive temp without credentials but with pecs to die for and Carina soon discovers he had exceptional office skills.

With this temp comes temptation, and Carina's problems multiply. Her strong attraction to Greg leaves her in breathless confusion. Her longing for his hard body interferes with her work.

Then Carina learns someone, perhaps even Greg, seeks to destroy her company. Torn between her belief in his innocence, and the likelihood of his guilt, Carina fires Greg, but he convinces her to give him twenty-four hours to find the one responsible.
The villain kidnaps Carina. Greg discovers her stalker's true identify and figures out where he's taken her. Her safe rescue makes his day. Then he learns he passed the bar exam, and with his future now secure can propose to his boss and reveal his past.

Temp to Permanent Excerpt

Carina Carrington's fingers flew across the computer keyboard.
Not fast enough.

She'd never meet her schedule without another pair of hands. Of all possible days, why did Rachael pick today to call in sick?
And what happened to her replacement? The temp agency had promised to send a secretary an hour ago. What was keeping her?

At the scrape of a leather shoe sole, Carina's concentration cracked.

"Hello, is anyone here?"

Startled, Carina hit a wrong key. Unless his face matches that heart-stopping voice, I'll throttle this salesman.

She abandoned the keyboard and swiveled around in her chair. Six feet of tanned muscles crossed her carpet. No way would she choke this hunk.

"There's no one at the desk out front," a husky male voice rasped.

Surrounded by masculine scent, Carina riveted her gaze on his business card, then glanced up. Devilish blue eyes locked with hers. She looked away to conceal her unprofessional, very unladylike reaction.

"I'm Gregory Lawless from Data Services. Pat Kilpatrick said to see Mrs. Carrington.

Your receptionist--"
"Has the flu."

This perfect example of centerfold material could not possibly type.

With all the work still to turn out, I'll kill Pat, instead.

Reluctantly Carina pushed back her chair and stood to shake his hand. Good grip, self-confident.

"That's why you're here, Mr. Lawless. I'm short handed today, and it's Miss
Carrington."

She indicated a chair and waited for him to sit. "The agency didn't say they were sending a man." Oops. Maybe employers weren't supposed to say things like that anymore.

"Is that a problem?"

"Only if you can't do the job." She wasn't about to acknowledge how difficult he made the simple act of speech.

He folded his lanky frame into the visitor's chair she'd indicated and placed a folder on her desk. "Ms. Kilpatrick asked me to give you this copy of my résumé."

A deep cleft creased his chin. How could she think with that distraction? With her weakness for cleft chins she couldn't hope to actually work around this man. His devastating smile belonged in a bedroom. In a bar. Anywhere but in her office, ruining her concentration.

Carina sank into her own chair and opened his file to study the brief list of qualifications while steadying her heart beat. San Diego Data Services normally provided exceptional help, but Pat had warned this flu epidemic had also left her short handed. Gregory must be the last healthy soul available.

Healthy? He was that, all right. From what she could see, far healthier than a man had any need to look.

He'd indicated a willingness to work. Any warm body could man the phones in her secretary's absence. What about this unexpected heat? Maybe Mom was right and she was sex-deprived.

Perhaps tomorrow Pat would have a real secretary available. Her mind pictured a prim woman. Someone wearing a skirt whose very presence wouldn't take her mind off her work.

She glanced up from the résumé to study Gregory. Information in the agency's file was scant, little more than name, address and social security number. He looked about her age. Why would a man approaching thirty resign himself to temporary work?

Carina drew a steadying breath. "Have you been with Data Services long?"

He tilted his head, obviously mulling over a reply. "This is my first assignment."

Great. Disgruntled by his admission, she looked away. Few skills and even less experience. Carina stole a glance. The smile hovering about his mouth prevented objective reasoning. "With a busy week ahead of me, there won't be much time for training."

He peered at the scribbled notes on her calendar and lifted one cocky eyebrow, giving him a rakish appearance that almost brought her out of her chair.

"Tell you what. Let's not waste any more time. Give me a chance to help and if I don't meet your requirements, you don't owe me a cent."

Desperation evident in his voice caused her to give him a sharp look. "So you're a gambler, too."

He straightened his back against the chair, then leaned forward and gazed at her. "I've nothing to lose," he admitted with admirable honesty.

Carina pondered everything she would gain if Gregory could fill Rachael's shoes. She wouldn't need to postpone tomorrow's meeting and might still land that contract.

Quick decisions were her trademark. "I'll only expect you to answer the phone. On Mondays it rings constantly."

He grinned, nodding. "How shall I answer?"

Criminey. Would she need to hold his hand and walk him through the office as well?

"Carrington Graphics will do."

"I'll manage. What is the nature of your business? Ms. Kilpatrick said you needed someone in a hurry and didn't take time to fill me in."

"Advertising." From the bookcase behind her desk Carina selected two brochures and unfolded them for Gregory to examine. "This is a terrible time to come up short handed. I've two important presentations scheduled, one tomorrow, and another on Friday. Rachael always handles my prepress. Without her, I'll never be ready."

After a moment, Gregory leaned across her desk to return the brochures. Fragrance, spicy-clean and fresh, teased her nostrils. Aftershave and a recent shower, a masculine scent far too likely to distract her, if she gave it a chance. She wouldn't, absolutely couldn't. Not this week. "I've had some experience with--"

"It's likely the phones will occupy all your time." She couldn't picture his neatly trimmed fingertips flying over a keyboard.
Imagining his hands tangled in some woman's hair though...

Easy. Far too easy.

Cut that out. "Why don't I get you settled at the front desk, Gregory."

He followed her into the outer office. "I prefer Greg."

She ignored the thump of her heart. "Greg it is."

The phone rang. Carina reached for it, only to find Greg's hand already there. He gave her a complacent look and shrugged.

"Good morning, Carrington Graphics," he said into the receiver. "How may I direct your call?" He listened a moment longer.
"Certainly, just one moment, please." He placed the caller on hold. "There's a typesetting question on line one."

"Thank you. I'll take it in my office." She rubbed the circulation back into her fingers as she walked away.

The less she heard Greg Lawless' voice, the more she'd accomplish. Carina decided, and pulled her door closed before lifting the receiver. She had her secretary's work to finish and when she hung up the phone a few minutes later, she settled down to do it.

Several hours passed before Greg's deep voice sounded over her intercom. Startled, she jumped.

"Miss Carrington, Acme Imaging called earlier. Although they promised delivery this morning by nine, they couldn't deliver before three. When I discovered they had your order ready, I sent a courier to pick it up. Nathan's here with it now."

She gripped the phone. If time allowed, she'd keep this circuit open just to hear that seductive voice speaking in her ear. "How did you know about Nathan?"

Greg chuckled. "I found him in the Rolodex. Is that all right?"

He wasn't all good looks and muscle after all. Delighted to learn initiative hid beneath his dark curly hair, she smiled for the first time today.

"Fine. I'll be right out."

Carina unlocked the petty cash drawer, withdrew a ten and re-locked it. She opened her door to sign the charge slip. Nathan gave her his usual appreciative once-over. Smiling, she pressed the tip into the courier's hand.

"Thanks, Nate. I really needed these today."


He pocketed the cash and headed for the door. "Have a good day."

Without those images it wouldn't be.

A yellow package lay on Greg's desk. She opened the envelope and slid out the contents.

"You saved me a lot of heartburn, Greg. Thanks."

His blue eyes failed to reveal his thoughts. "These are your messages. You seemed preoccupied so I took the liberty of screening your calls."

Wise move. She could easily adjust to his thoughtful manner, but found it impossible to ignore his presence. Even at her desk behind closed doors his deep voice had disrupted her thoughts.

She glanced through the stack of pink slips. Cleaners, dentist, a salesman of some kind.

"Good." Carina pulled one from the stack and held it out to him. "I need that suit for tomorrow. Have my cleaning delivered, please. There's nothing else here that can't wait."

"Yes, Miss Carrington."

His submissive reply weakened her knees. "Carina will do fine."

"But Miss Carrington--"

"I insist, and Greg, thanks again for getting those images delivered."

The phone rang and they both stared at it. Greg picked up the receiver, his well-groomed fingers caressing the mouthpiece. Her mouth went dry. He bent his dark head and jotted down a number, lifted his gaze and caught her staring.

He grinned. She blushed and her heart skipped. Four quick steps away from his desk took her to the relative safety behind her office door. She pushed it closed, leaned against it, and shut out his deep, disquieting voice.

What was wrong with her?

It wasn't every day a handsome man shared her office. Regardless, she should be able to carry on with her work. Greg had a job to do. Heaven knows, she had, too.


For a chance to win a free download on Temp To Permanent and an "I need my reading time" T-shirt, email Toni from her website. Winner will be announced on June 30.
http://www.toninoelauthor.com/contact.html

Here's a buy link: http://stores.desertbreezepublishing.com/-strse-template/Toni%20Noel/Page.bok

Author Spotlight - Toni Noel talks about the many faces of love

Poets believe love makes the world go round, but that's too broad a premise for the novel I have in mind. I'm looking for a suitable premise for a Valentine's Day novel I hope to have published next year, so I turned to the bestselling book of all time, the Bible, for inspiration.

In First Corinthians, Chapter 13, starting with verse 4 I found inspiration for more ways to show love than I have room to list here. For instance:

'Love is patient and kind.'

I immediately pictured a young mother in the park, caring for her children, the youngest crying over a skinned knee, while at home her mother bathes her bedridden husband of sixty years.

Or a kindergarten teacher consoling the son of a fallen Marine.

And how about the mother of triplets spoon-feeding her brood. These are all excellent examples of kindness and patience, but those images didn't inspire a plot for a story that will jump off the page.

I read further.

'Love does not insist on its own way.'

A headstrong companion does, however, perhaps the first indication of a relationship on the rocks. When you truly love someone, there's an easy give and take, not a struggle for supremacy. I pictured a macho lover slapping around his mate while a toddler crouched in the corner, afraid to move, not the kind of story I want to tell.

'Love is not jealous or boastful.'

Another indication a relationship is in trouble. To truly love a mate is to give your companion room to grow. The man who boasts of his prowess in the bedroom is too dependent on the adulation of his peers. That's not the kind of hero I like to read about and I'm not anxious to write about him either.

'Love is not arrogant or rude.'

Someone who truly loves you does not put you down in public or symbolically step on your toes, hogging the conversation, or declare you don't know what you're talking about loud enough for friends or family to hear. It would be far too easy to nail this character to the page in just a few words, but that novel would only be about a page and a half long, and I doubt anyone would read that far.

'Love does not insist on its own way.'

How about the husband who tells you what to wear? The date constantly suggesting you change the way you wear your hair? These relationships are headed for heartache down the road, definitely not the kind of relationships I want to write about.

'Love bears all things.'

There are certain things a character may be certain he or she cannot bear: a child's lies, the running away of a child, an adult offspring on drugs. Infidelity. Now I'm getting somewhere, that's four possible story ideas right there.

'Love believes all things.'

... Even the things the heroine knows in her heart are not true. What if the character wants them to be true because she loves the one telling the lies. 'No, I didn't bite my sister.' 'My fifteen-year-old is still a virgin.' 'No, I didn't put that scratch on Dad's new car.' 'No, I am not having an affair.' Love blinds a character to another character's faults. This premise has merit. I might give it a try.

'Love hopes all things.'

Love forces us to hope when there is no hope. The week before a friend with terminal lung cancer died his wife said, "We can still hope."

Are good causes ever really hopeless?

Can this marriage be saved?

Will law enforcement officers find the lost child in time?

Is global warming reversible?

Can Japanese scientists find a way to stop that nuclear reactor from melting down?

If this blog has caused you to stop and think, please comment.

Did any of these verses give you a new idea?

What kind of love do you like to write about?

Which kind of love warms your heart? Fills you with joy? Brings you to tears?

Your comment might help some other writer see where her character has gone astray.

Author Spotlight - Toni Noel talks about today's libraries

Our libraries are in real trouble. A shortage of funding. Budget cuts. Shortened hours. Some doors permanently locked.

My granddaughter came to visit during spring break. She loves for me to read to her, and is crazy about children's videos, so after lunch one day I took her to the library to check out a few.

The doors were locked. I had to step over 6 teenage couples making out on the covered porch to reach the door and read the small sign displaying the library's hours.

Closed Mondays, and not open most mornings.

Our existing libraries represent a big investment of taxpayer's money, not just in books, but in videos, magazines and newspapers, computers with online capability for the cardholder's use, and all of it wasted when the doors remain closed. Our branch library is surrounded on three sides by senior citizen complexes whose residents spend most of their waking hours in the library. At least they did.

On hot days in Southern California elderly residents are urged to seek shelter in the library to stay cool. Most day that won't be possible this summer. Once their next in line on the librarian's signup sheet, the unemployed, and our city has many, can apply for jobs and send out resumes on line for the entire twenty minutes of their computer time. That means sending out 4 or 5 resumes if they type fast, but not if the doors are locked. These are jobless people without cars.

Is this happening in your neighborhood too? Are your schools, recreation centers and libraries feeling the brunt of the budget cuts? If the answer is yes, it's time you take a stand.

It's time for the younger generation to take a stand. City officials get tired of listening to senior citizens complain. I've had my turn. Thirty years ago I pestered the City Council until my (closed on Mondays branch library was finally built. I'm seventy-eight-years-old now and no longer able to take a stand, but young mothers whose toddlers enjoy the library's weekly story hour can and should. The parents of teens locked out of the library during spring break can, and should.

You can, and should.

Please leave a comment on this DBP sight to show someone else besides me cares about the future of our libraries.

And visit my blog for more on this subject: http://www.toninoelauthor.com/contact.html

Author Spotlight Week -Toni Noel shares her passion for Romantic Suspense

Right after 'Write what you know' should come 'Write what you love to read.' A third rule should be 'Write what readers want to read.' Currently Romantic Suspense is outselling all other genres.

I love to read a good romantic suspense, the kind of book guaranteed to makes you burn the hard boiled eggs and forget to pick up your son after baseball practice. The kind of book you can't put down, with characters you fall in love with on page one, laugh with, cry with and almost die with before the end of the book.

All great reads, but not as easy to write as you may think. Writing romantic suspense is far more complicated than writing a straight romance. I have to remember to sow seeds of doubts, plant red herrings and put off solving the mystery to allow the hero and heroine time to fall in love, not an easy goal.

Plotting these novels is like carefully shuffling two decks of cards. One deck represents the mystery, the other the romance. All the events must be seamlessly merged or the reader will be drawn out of the story and is likely to throw the book across the room. Or delete it from her eReader, a new and possible threat for writers.

And yes, I'm a true believer in romance. If my hero and heroine face death before morning, they're bound to spend their last night in hiding in each other's arms. In Temp To Permanent, my romantic suspense just released by Desert Breeze Publishing, right before Carina gets kidnapped, Greg and Carina spend a night in each other's arms, all the more reason for Greg to find the woman he loves and save her life.

I prefer to read books where the hero seeks the heroine's help to catch a bad guy and they fall in love while thrown together, not books where there is no romance, and I have a long list of authors who never disappoint me. I'll share a few with anyone who leaves a comment here.

Author Spotlight - Q&A with Toni Noel, author of Temp to Permanent

STEPH: I don't know much about Temp To Permanent. Can you tell me a little more about?

TONI: In Temp To Permanent, the beleaguered owner of an advertising firm is thrown for a loop when the temp agency sends her a male replacement for her secretary who has the flu. This man is all she's ever want in a lover, but she's doubtful he'll be able to manage her busy phones.

Greg surprises Carina. His skill with computer graphics far exceeds her secretary's ability, and Carina's thriving business returns to normal, until troublesome things start happening, little irritating things that slow down their production, until the petty cash disappears. Carina suspects Greg is a plant sent by her competition to force her company to fail. Will the attraction she has for him survive her suspicions?

STEPH: How long did it take to write?

TONI: It takes me six weeks to write the first draft of a novel, and may take several years to polish it for submission. During the Temp To Permanent revision I began to wonder who wants to pick up a book about a lady boss who can't keep her hands off the temp help, but must? The situation was already humorous, or could become erotic, which ever I chose.

Not erotic, I was certain. Maybe what I needed was a good mystery to distract my characters, but for them to work more closely together, a situation rife with opportunities for romance. That's why I added the mystery. It gave my characters a problem to solve other than the sexual harassment one they'd face if either acted on their desires.

STEPH: Did you do a lot of research for the novel?

TONI: No research was need for this novel. Authors are instructed to write what they know. I'd worked in accounting offices for thirty years. I knew all about the subtle games office workers play, but there was nothing the least bit romantic about our accounting department. We were kept too busy for office intrigue, so I needed a different setting for my novel and decided on a quieter office situation for my characters, a business with only two employees. I wanted a place where a hero and heroine already attracted to each other would be forced to spend time together in conference every day, rubbing elbows, you might say. I already knew a little about computer graphics. The last company I worked for designed and built remotely controlled underwater vehicles. I interviewed a few of those designers, questioned the owner of a graphic arts business and started writing.


STEPH: Where did the inspiration for the story come from?

TONI: Prior to year end close ach year, I interviewed and hired a temp to take over my timecard duties while I produced financial reports and worked the accounting year close. One year I hired a male temp, not because of his drop-dead looks, but because of his obvious skills. He had an accounting degree and office experience, and best of all, required little training before I was able to tackle my work without interruption. Not so for the rest of the company. Even the married female employees hung out of their cubicles each day when he made his rounds.

STEPH: If your story was going to be made into a movie, who would you cast as the leads?

TONI: Greg would look like Sean Penn, with twinkling blue eyes and curly black hair. Carina would be a young Glenn Close.

STEPH: What is the theme of the novel?

TONI: The theme of Temp To Permanent is Love finds a way. Carina is convinced Greg lacks ambition. In reality, he's ashamed of his past failures, and refuses to talk about his past. To Carina, her father lacked ambition and determined not to fall for someone without goals in his life. She's a highly ambitious, successful businesswoman who has scratched her way to the top of her field, but has recently realized she is unhappy with her current life. Something is missing. She's not sure what until Greg walks into her office and she discovers she wants the very thing she cannot legally have: her temp.

STEPH: What do you want readers to take away from the novel when they finish it?

TONI: I always want my readers to finish my novels with the satisfaction of a happy ending, a resolution that leaves them smiling, and memories of a couple whose newly found love warms their heart long after they read 'The end.

STEPH: Do you have an eBook reader? If so, which one?

TONI: My husband gave me one of the first Nooks, bought when they were still pricey. I have a cover for it that feels like suede and folds back flat when I'm reading. I also have a light for it, but am yet to need it.

My husband recently bought a mini-computer for me to use in the motor home, so I also download .pdf files, copy them to a flash drive and read on the mini. In some ways I like it better.

STEPH: How important was the setting to the novel?

STEPH: Here again, write what you know influenced this novel. For several years I was the accountant for a local hotel and worked at San Diego's Embarcadero. This city's main business district is located a few blocks east of the bay, and all up-and-coming business owners need easy access to downtown, so Carina's opened her business in Little Italy, a stones-throw from downtown, and Greg rented an apartment in Old Town to avoid a lengthy freeway drive to where he hopes to eventually work. This setting gave my characters scenic views right outside their doors, and excellent places to dine while they became better acquainted.

STEPH: What's your writing space like?

STEPH: I emptied a spare bedroom for my office. My desk, a six foot door, turns the floor space into a mini-maze. Four tall, stuffed bookshelves line the wall I face when I write. One narrow end is beneath the window. The other end protrudes into the room, parallel to the bookcases and the sewing machine at my back. When we have company, this room becomes a catchall room for odd , collecting things we'd like to keep out of sight, items that never seem to find their back out of here, so not, my office is not neat, no many how many classes I take on organizing my writing space, but it almost serves my needs.
You'd think with a six foot desk I'd have plenty of room.

Not.

STEPH: Thanks for popping in, Toni! It was great to have you on the blog today!

Author Spotlight week - Excerpt from Lawbreakers and Love Makers

Enjoy an excerpt from Toni's book, "Lawbreakers and Love Makers, today. In this scene, Zoe and the deputy, Jon, are just finishing a meal:

"Why don't you load those in the dishwasher while I dish up dessert?" Zoe said, moving a step further away.

Jon's eyes lit with anticipation. "Dessert?"

"Blackberry cobbler. I found a container of berries in the freezer and decided to put them to good use." From Jon's grin, he really liked dessert.

"When I was a kid we'd pick berries walking home from Lindo Lake, then talk Mom into making pie," he said.

Zoe dished up the treat, topped Jon's with a big scoop of ice cream, hers with a lot less, and filled two coffee cups. She followed Jon and the tempting aroma of fresh coffee outside, carrying the filled bowls.

"Dig in," she invited, serving him.

He did.

She adored watching a man enjoy something she'd cooked.

Jon said not one word until he'd scraped the last of the creamy syrup from his bowl, then looked up and grinned. "Unbelievable. If I come back, will there be enough left for tomorrow night?"

As if her heart had kicked its heels, Zoe's blood began surging through her veins. Was this Jon's way of making a date with her? Or just his way of assuring himself another serving of cobbler?

Either way, it was working. She gave him a quick nod.

"I can always make another. Dinner, too."

His eyes lit. "Don't go to any trouble..."

"I won't. I enjoy cooking."

"I'll get these," he said, and gathered the dessert bowls in his hands. "A woman who cooks as good as you do shouldn't be expected to clean up, too."

Yeah. His mother raised him right.

He loaded the dishwasher, filled both dispensers with detergent and turned it on, then dried his hands with a brisk air of finality that plainly said he was getting ready to leave. Suddenly, Zoe couldn't abide the thought of spending another long evening alone, even if Jon kicked her in the teeth again. She'd take the risk. She really needed company tonight.

"Want to watch a movie? Dad has On Demand."

"Mind if I take a rain-check? There's still all that--"

"Paper work. Yeah, I know."

"Oh, I almost forgot." He pulled a new looking lock from his pocket. "This is keyed like the Patricks' old lock. Here's your key back."

Warmed by his body, the key heated the palm of her hand.

Not a good idea, Zoe, letting your mind dwell on the contents of those pockets.

Author Spotlight week -Toni Noel shares her favorite authors

Author, Toni Noel

Make that favorite authors, please. I started out with Judith McNaught, Kathleen Woodiwiss, and LaVyrle Spence. I dearly loved Morning Glory, and yes, I like historicals. From those authors I moved on to Elizabeth Lowell, Sharon Sala and Mary Balogh. And then there is Susan Wiggs. She wrote the first book to bring tears to my eyes while I read.

Right here at Desert Breeze, I fell in love with the characters in No Other, by Shawna Williams. Great writing job, as is The Christmas Stranger by Marion Bullock, a story teller with heart. A family friend, Catherine Coulter's assistant, sent a book she'd personally autographed, my first. Now my shelves are filled with books by authors I have met. Debbie Macomber, Jan Karon and Linda Howard are my all time favorites, but Judy Duarte is coming on fast. Entertaining Angels and the sequel are inspirational books straight from Judy's heart. I like John Gresham, Tami Hoag and Amanda Quick for good mysteries, as well as Lisa Gardner, and anything written by John Sparks.

Now you have me wondering what makes a really great read, a story I keep thinking about long after I've closed the book? I have a problem remembering names, but have no problem recalling the heroine who healed a wounded hero's heart. Or a macho hero teaching a widow's son to ride a bike.

Karen Robards wrote a romantic suspense about a clueless mother hoping to get back in touch with her teenage daughter on a camping trip. They become separated from the group, are chased through the woods by bad guys with guns until the hero shows up and helps them escape. I dissolved most of a bottle of nitroglycerine tables under my tongue while reading that tension-filled book, but I wasn't about to put it down just because of a little chest pain.

Author Spotlight Week -Toni Noel shares her favorite movie

Dr. Zhivago is my favorite movie of all time, a love story lacking the happy ending of a true romance, as is The Bridges of Madison County. For me, the strong attraction of a married man to a beautiful woman or of a lonely married woman to an intriguing man represents the challenging conflicts an author hopes to create when he/she plots. Of course the scenery in these movies helps. I'm a retired accountant, and when the stress of year-end closing became too great, I'd mentally picture myself in the sleigh with Zhivago racing across snow-covered fields to some secret rendezvous. Aware of my fascination with the story, my husband gave me a music box with a well-dressed Russian couple ice-skating that plays "Somewhere My Love," my all time favorite song.

I consider myself a hopeless romantic. Love songs play from Boom boxes in every room, violins or piano solos. And yes, I'm a firm believer in fidelity. We've been married for fifty-eight years, but fooling around makes for a memorable story, especially when it's told on the big screen. I tried to read Dr. Zhivago and couldn't get past the first page, but I loved The Bridges of Madison County. All those photographs, I suppose. My husband and I are both photographers.

Author Spotlight Week -Toni Noel shares her passion for Romantic Suspense

For me reading a novel without a romance in it is like eating toast without jam. Just as the bread tastes flat, the book seems boring. I like to wonder will she get her man? And will they live long enough to catch the bad guys? For me, a good romance with a mysterious twist is like the icing on the cake. My two hours must be up. I'm hypoglycemic and have to eat every two hours, so it seems that at present all I can think about is food. But just let me get deeply involved in writing, whether the romance part or the suspense part, and I forget to eat. When my children were young, I stayed away from adult section of the library because I feared I'd get involved in a who-dun-it and burn the house down.

I never was a good cook, and the oft-repeated story of boiling eggs forgotten on my stove and exploding is not an exaggeration, but I diverse.

I once read about a well-known author who writes the necessary chapters of his mysteries, then shuffles the chapters around until he finds the best placement to tell the story. I don't think that's possible when a romance is part of the story. Writing romance requires a natural progression of events -- first look, first touch, hand to the head, etc, until the couple is fully and irrevocably involved, so writing a suspenseful story with a satisfying romance requires careful thought and planning. At least it does for me, but the resolution is so satisfying it is worth all the effort required.

Author Spotlight Week - Q&A with Toni Noel

I'd like to welcome Author Toni Noel to the blog this week for the spotlight. Toni's latest release is called "Law Breakers and Love Makers." Enjoy! Steph

***


STEPH: I don't know much about Law Breakers and Love Makers. Can you tell us a little about the book?

TONI:
Here's a blurb:

Take one resolute wisp of a woman, one conscientious deputy, add some single-minded pets and a few crimes-in-progress and you have a situation that would be funny if the couple falling back in love was not so darn scared. Law Breakers and Love Makers takes the reader on a rollercoaster ride that starts when a house sitter accidentally sets off a silent alarm.

STEPH: What was the inspiration behind the book?

TONI: A lovely, rambling house in a secluded rural neighborhood inspired this novel. I visualized bad guys climbing the lower wall and approaching the house unobserved and when I got home from the party at that house started plotting a romantic suspense.

STEPH: I see that it's a romantic suspense. What attracts you to that genre?

TONI: I'm more of a suspense fan than mystery fan. I enjoy figuring out who-dun-it and sometimes being right. I guess you could say I like light mysteries, so that is what I write about, characters with a problem to solve, and very little violence.

STEPH: Do you have a series planned? What's next on the horizon for you?

TONI: No, so far I have no series planned, although the friends of the sexy business owner in Temp to Permanent, my June 1, 2011 release from Desert Breeze Publishing, Inc., would lend themselves nicely to a series. Who knows? There just might be a series in the works.

I've just signed another contract with Desert Breeze for the release of Decisive Moments, a dark romance, in time for Halloween, 2011. I don't usually write about dark heroes, but I frequently write about ghosts, and as long my hero and heroine find a safe haven for their hearts in the end I'm pleased, and in this novel they do.

STEPH: Do you have a certain process to develop your characters? Do you cast your characters? If so who are the leads?

TONI: Not always with movie stars, but yes, I do cast the characters for my novels because I like to have a firm image of each one in my mind. Michelle Piper and a younger George Clooney were the models for Zoe and Jon. Her sweetly innocent look was exactly the image I wanted for my quirky heroine.

STEPH: How long did it take you to write Law Breakers and Love Makers?

TONI: Six weeks. Once the writing started, the words just came pouring out because my characters took over the writing and I had no choice but to go along for the ride. As for Boomer and Pete, the friendly dog and talkative parrot, I had no idea they were going to show up on about page eleven and steal the scene. I'd stop writing each night, exhausted, but anxious to see what the next day would bring.

I did lots of revision once I'd typed "The End," but I didn't change much in their scenes, since those pets hadn't tried to take over my love scenes.

STEPH: Do you have any hobbies you'd like to share with us?

TONI: I did a lot of gardening before promoting my books took over my life, but I don't want to change a thing, unless it's to have my gardener come more often. I hired him and a cleaning woman when I developed that deep vein thrombosis and had to keep my leg elevated for the better part of a year.

We like to camp, and I knit while watching football more than I should. And you say one of my hobbies is avoiding the kitchen until after we eat. Since his first retirement, my husband has become a very good gourmet cook. Not me. Our now-deceased dog used to hide when my husband went out of town and left me to cook.

STEPH: It's paranormal month. What are you going to be for Halloween?

TONI: The door-opener for the trick-or-treaters who ring our bell. I have a "wrong-way-witch on my security door and hide behind it to pass out treats. My pleasure comes from seeing the imaginative costumes of the little ones. Even the babies in strollers are in costume, and parents bring children in cars to scare the residents of my street.

Featured October Release - Love Breakers and Love Makers by Toni Noel

ABOUT THE BOOK:
Deputy Sheriff Jon Sutherland reunites with his high school sweetheart when he responds to a silent alarm she sets off while house sitting. This chance meeting sends the sheriff and Zoe Westmoreland on a roller coaster run for their lives.

Burglars escaping from her parents’ home, send her sprawling. Twice. Then she finds the gardener floating face down in the family pool and interrupts a burglary-in-progress next door. When the gardener's death is ruled a homicide Jon moves in to keep Zoe safe. Not all that easy.

Two men try to force their vehicles off the road, and the one time Jon leaves Zoe alone those really bad guys show up again. Thanks to Zoe's quick thinking and resourcefulness, the crooks get a free ride to the hospital and she winds up in Jon’s arms for keeps.

EXCERPT:
Zoe turned toward the large panel of blinking lights beside the front door. All right, time to learn to disarm Dad's alarm.

She pulled her father's instruction from her jeans pocket. Just like the retired Superior Court judge -- always thinking every one needed constant instructions, and always judgmental.

At least he'd made this list as simple as possible.

Still thought of her as a little girl, she saw. Some things never changed.

Use the remote clipped to the Volvo's sun visor to open the garage door.

Now, drive in. Always enter the house through the garage.

Oops. First mistake. She'd parked in the driveway and come in through the front door.

May as well read the rest of his instructions and hope she hadn't made another wrong move.

Disarming the panel at the front entrance takes too long. If you're slow, it activates a silent alarm.

Zoe risked another glance at the now fully lit panel near the entrance.

Busted. Two mistakes already and all she'd done was walk right by the panel and out onto the deck, too awed by the idea of lolling beside her parents' pool for a whole month to note those flashing lights.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR:

Since the day my mother started reading The Five Little Peppers and How They Grew to the four of us books have been an important part of my life. As a small child I couldn¿t wait to learn to read, and in school I devoured every printed page I could get my hands on. Summers in Birmingham I rode my bicycle three miles to the local drug store to check out Zane Grey novels which I shared with my father, a tireless breadwinner and avid reader. As a young wife and mother I started church libraries in two small Tennessee towns. Later, when the Bookmobile no longer satisfied the needs of my growing daughters, with the encouragement of my husband, I appeared before the San Diego City Council and City Planning Commission, urging them to purchase property for a library in our fast-growing subdivision before the preferred sites were snapped up by service stations. I bugged city officials so much I was later invited to assist the Mayor at the ground-breaking ceremony for the promised library. Although that library now needs expansion, it is my fondest dream that they¿ll save room on those crowded shelves for the romance novels I write.