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Brainstorming with my Editor

Reader response to my recent Regency romantic suspense release, A Code of Wonder, has been absolutely heartwarming. This story is part of the Snowed in with a Rogue multi-author Regency romance holiday anthology, which is now available.

“This is a great read with many twist and turns. Be sure and get your copy, something hot to drink and be ready not to move till finished.” – Nanna, Amazon

“It has a little suspense, a little humour, and an HEA.” – lq, Amazon

“…enjoy my favorite by Jacki Delecki where Eliza is fleeing her kidnappers. Nash comes to her rescue and plays the white Knight. This is is a fun and quick novella. It continues the Code Breakers it Jacki Delecki’s wonderful style and wit.” – Simatsu, Amazon

If you’d like a “behind the desk” peek at the writing process that led to the creation of this story, visit my editor Matrice Hussey’s blog and read Brainstorming with an author.

You can read A Code of Wonder and six other romantic stories for just $0.99.

Amazon US | Amazon UK | Amazon AU | Amazon CA

Why writing 'Mission: Impossible to Wed' was a challenge

Mission: Impossible to Wed is my contribution to the 99¢ multi-author box set, Christmas at Mistletoe Lodge (releasing 10.22.19). When I set out to write this holiday novella, I never anticipated the challenge I had created for myself.

I’ve been writing for a while. I released An Inner Fire, my first contemporary romantic suspense, in 2014. Since then, I’ve released 7 other contemporary military romantic suspense titles.

My newest story in the Impossible Mission series, Mission: Impossible to Wed, is a little different. It’s about a wedding designer and a Special Ops soldier who are thrown together for a country wedding that has them both thinking they’ll never get married. It’s pure romance–no suspense or intrigue or action-adventure.

Writing a contemporary romance without any elements of suspense was much harder than I anticipated. I had to think and plan and create outside my comfort zone. I had to construct the story using different plot devices. I had to come up with other obstacles to keep Gabe and Lauren from their HEA.

The process of writing this book was uncomfortable and laborious. It reminded me what writing romantic suspense fiction felt like when I was just starting out as a writer. I struggled for each word, writing and rewriting. Doing something for the first time makes you very aware of the process and the work. But it also makes you proud that you put in the extra effort.

My editor told me she’s very pleased with the story. I hope you’ll download a copy of this new box set to read Mission: Impossible to Wed and let me know what you think!

Amazon US | Amazon UK | Amazon AU | Amazon CA

Apple Books | Kobo | Nook

And here’s wishing you good luck with the next new project you tackle!

Snowed in with a Rogue Release Day!

It’s release day for Snowed in with a Rogue, the multi-author Regency romance holiday anthology which includes an all-new Code Breakers holiday novella. Read Chapter One from A CODE OF WONDER and then download the box set.

Amazon US | Amazon UK | Amazon AU | Amazon CA

Chapter One

December,1803
Rural England

Nicholas Balthasar Trentham, Earl of Wessex, sprawled in the rickety chair, propped his feet on the table, and took another swig of ale, the best the Dragon and Cock had to offer. Peering through the soiled window, he watched the clouds blowing across the sky. A winter storm was brewing. If he didn’t leave immediately, he’d be forced to spend the night. He had stayed in worse places, but, at those times, he had always been deep in his cups.

Anger and resentment swirled in his gut like the beginning snow flurries outside. The ale wasn’t dimming the memories. It had been over a year since his father, the old earl died, and he still hadn’t gone home, if you could call Wemberly Abbey a home. It hadn’t been home since his mother had died in childbirth, trying to bear a spare heir for his father.

He had impulsively decided to return to his estate after becoming thoroughly bored with the holiday parties. Bored with his last mistress, bored with his drunken friends, bored with society; he didn’t need to affect ennui to be fashionable. None of his usual pursuits piqued his interest.

What half-witted reason drove him to want to be at the estate for the holidays? Refusing any form of introspection, he sat upright, yearning for action. If any of his disreputable friends got wind that the rogue Nash longed for the holiday spirit of his childhood he’d be ridiculed out of his clubs.

Disgusted by his self-pitying thoughts, he resolved to return to town. He’d spend the holidays staggering from party to party. It was better than being alone during the holidays with no siblings, no family but distant cousins. Lady Stafford had been hinting for months, and perhaps he’d succumb to her advances since it had been a month since he ended his affair with Genevieve.

 As he scanned the darkening sky, motion from a window at the adjacent inn caught his attention.

Someone was trying to escape without paying his bill.

An arse molded into tight riding breeches backed out of the open window. His rake’s eyes rapidly recognized the shape, firmness, and the perfect size for a man’s hands. If his tastes were anything to be trusted, this was not a man’s arse.

He watched her slow, slithering descent down the building, her blond curls swirling around her shoulders. His blood stirred, and his mind raced with possibilities.

 This trip had just got interesting. Why was this sweet thing in breeches attempting an escape? He stood and reached for his box coat.

 Despite his debauched ways, he remained a gentleman. And the little vixen needed further exploration. He needed to uncover the reasons for the lady’s hasty departure…not a lady by her costume, though. Ladies were so boring, whereas…

Swinging his coat over his shoulders, he watched her as she cautiously lowered her feet to the ground. His blood heated with the arousing sway of her hips. The vision of him peeling her out of the breeches and anything she might be wearing underneath, had him hardening.

Loud shouts shocked him out of his carnal daydream as two men rushed from the back of the inn. Like a trapped animal, she froze with her hands on the first-floor windowsill. A burly bearded man grabbed her, jerking her from the sill before backhanding her. His short wiry companion smiled as she staggered from the force of his impact.

Nash dropped his coat and ran to intervene. His need to bloody the brute who touched her beat through him in a deadly rhythm. They were dragging her by her arms toward the stable as he rounded the corner. Her head hung between her slumped shoulders. Every muscle tightened into killing mode. They would pay a painful price for hurting her.

 “Stop!” His voice echoed in the narrow alley between the two buildings.

The men turned toward him, dropping their victim. She pushed herself upright, giving him a view of her pale, heart-shaped face bruised by the violence. Corkscrew curls hung over one eye. She and the men stared at him, creating a strange tableau in the whirling flurries. And his protective instinct roared in defense of this beautiful, fragile creature.

Her attacker spat French out of the side of his mouth as he slowly moved forward. The skinny one reached into his boot for his dagger. A little knife play with two against one. Now the fun would begin. Too bad none of his cronies were here to bet on who would be the victor. Watching the men spread out to attack from both sides, Nash rolled onto his toes and waited. This was child’s play. His fighting skills were well-honed from boxing at Oxford to brawling in the alleys of the East End.

Pea-brain sans front teeth waited, knife in hand, while his heavy-breathing partner stepped within striking distance, his ham-sized fists clenching and unclenching as he swore in French. Nash smiled to hear himself called an English “putain.” He had been called a lot worse than an “English whore.”

Nash’s wide grin stopped the man momentarily. In the thug’s brief hesitation, Nash punched him in the face, shattering his broad nose. The man raised his hands to stop the spurting blood, giving Nash the perfect opening. Nash delivered the full strength of his fourteen stone behind his fist to the soft gut. With the idiot bent over, Nash raised his knee to finish him off. Screaming, the bastard dropped to the ground, grabbing his balls as he fell into a curled heap.

The partner lurched forward, his blade raised high to reach Nash. In one quick swirl, Nash twisted to confront him, but not quick enough to stop the fast slash across his arm. The sight of blood and a long tear in his linen shirt infuriated Nash. He charged the smaller man, wrenched his arm and twisted it with all his force to hear the brittle sound of the break.

Nash raised an eyebrow and asked in French, “Do you wish to end up like your friend?”

Cradling his broken forearm, the man shook his head.

Nash, maintaining his focus on the man, bent and picked up the knife.

Blood lust roared through him. He knew the perfect solution for this manly ailment, and it involved a sweet derriere and blond curls. He scanned the alley for the damsel in distress.

He strode toward the stable, ignoring the pain in his arm, and envisioned her ministering to all his pressing needs.

The sound of beating hooves echoed in the narrow lane behind the inn.

Skirting around the corner, Nash froze.

The woman was on his mount, racing toward the road. The bloody woman had stolen his horse.

Too impatient to wait for the stablemaster, Nash jumped on an unsaddled gray-speckled gelding and gave chase. No one was able to handle the skittish Ace of Spades except for him. She wouldn’t make it out of the village without Ace shaking her off. And he’d be there to rescue her. Again.

She was racing east on the road out of the town, bent over Ace’s neck, with no saddle or bridle, clinging to his mane. He wasn’t sure what was more shocking—that she had remained on the stallion as long as she had, or that Ace was tolerating her on his back.

What trouble had this tiny woman gotten herself into that forced her to steal his horse with no cloak or jacket, in the middle of an approaching storm? There was nothing ahead for miles except his estate and the small village of Wemberly. His friends would never let him forget that he had to chase a woman, weighing less than seven stone, to retrieve his horse.

The absurdity that she had the nerve to steal the Earl of Wessex’s stallion would be entertaining if not for her desperation.

Nash spurred his mount needing answers to the riddle of the woman who rode furiously ahead of him. He couldn’t close the distance. The gelding was no match for Ace’s strength and power and endurance. It was time to end this farce. And get answers he demanded.

Ace would halt with Nash’s whistle.

Get Snowed in with a Rogue to keep reading!

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Lancelot to the Rescue ~ Excerpt from 'A Code of Wonder'

Miss Elizabeth Louise Lyon, Eliza to her friends, needing a horse to escape, scanned the stable. A gigantic black stallion, standing at least sixteen hands, occupied the first stall—the obvious prize, flaunting his proud stance and giving an insolent flick of his magnificent tail.

She opened the gate to his stall and scrambled up the stacked hay bales to reach him. She didn’t have a lot of time to calm him if she were to make her getaway. Now that she had three men after her, her chance of evading capture had lessened.

She whispered to him, sensing his heroic but persnickety personality, before she swung her leg over his enormous back. The handsome fellow didn’t bolt but turned to stare at her. Whispering how beautiful and brave he was, she ran her hand along his silky, sleek neck.

He pawed at the ground, shook his head, and gave a loud snort. She felt his strong muscles ripple in defiance, but it was all for show. “You’re a sensitive and courageous fellow, and you’ll save me. Your name should be ‘Lancelot.'” Eliza swallowed the unexpected sob in her throat. Abbie, her older sister, always teased Eliza about her need to rename horses to suit their personalities.

This wasn’t the time to have a crying fit, despite her harrowing day. She had to warn Abbie of the danger. If she hadn’t worn Abbie’s cape for her imprudent ride this morning, none of this would be happening to her. But then her sister might have been kidnapped. Although, unlike her younger sister, Abbie wasn’t so headstrong or defiant that she’d risk riding alone.

“You have to help me. Evil men are after me. Not me, but my sister Abbie, whom I strongly resemble.” She hadn’t told the Frenchmen that she wasn’t Abbie. The fear that they might kill her and return to kidnap Abbie kept her silent.

“The only explanation must be for ransom from Abbie’s rich husband. Or could it be her secret work? Why else would wicked men want my sweet and studious sister?” She rubbed Lancelot’s thick, muscular neck, needing comfort from the gentle beast.

The family’s Irish stablemaster always said she had the “touch.” A high compliment that she held to her heart since her mother and her father always found her, their third daughter, wanting. As a gently bred lady, she was supposed to prefer the drawing room and sketching and sewing over spending her time in the stables filled with men and horses. She couldn’t think of her mother right now or how worried Abbie would be when she didn’t return.

She gripped Lancelot’s mane and squeezed her thighs and knees into his giant flank to back him out of the stall. “We must be off.”

A Code of Wonder premieres 10.07.19 as part of the multi-author Regency romance holiday anthology, Snowed in with a Rogue.

Amazon US | Amazon UK | Amazon AU | Amazon CA

Thanks to Those Who Serve

The 9/11 attacks left an indelible impression on Americans. It’s been almost two decades since the events that changed our way of life in so many ways. One of those changes was  a strengthening of America’s sense of unity and patriotism. Volunteers came out in the hundreds to help in the aftermath of the attacks, and military enlistments shot up.

September 11 is a reminder of the selfless sacrifice of first responders, emergency workers and service members. My military romantic suspense stories feature fictional heroes, but they are inspired by the real-life heroes who serve and protect us. Each act of heroism–large or small–is worthy of our gratitude.

To all those who serve – thank you!