We're Sprinting!

All right guys and gals, we are sprinting!  You know the drill, come back in fifteen and tell me what your word count was.

Ready Set GO!!!!

Word Count Wednesday, Indie-Credible, & September 11th

There are so many things going on today.

In the real world:  So many tender feelings about September 11 and the sacrifice that was made.  I hope you find a moment today to contemplate on the freedom we have and those who sacrifice to preserve that.

In my writing world: my word count was small this week because I'm in revisions, but my story is looking stronger every day.  I had critique group last night and am so motivated to get this thing knocked out of the park.

In my book world: I was interviewed by Dawn Allen!  I'm part of the Indie-Credible event and she's doing a giveaway of my books, a review, and an interview.  The interview is posted today and I might have revealed a secret or two.  You can see it here.

How are you doing today? Are you coming to the sprint tonight?

Another Sneak Peek of Pocket Full of Posies (Because I Love My Readers)

Last week I posted a sneak peek of my new novel Pocket Full of Posies (it will be released in October!) and everyone wanted a little more.  So, today, just because I love all my readers, here is the second sneak peek (or, in other words, the rest of Chapter One.)  (If you want to read the first half from last week, click here.)

Pocket Full of Posies

by Julie Coulter Bellon

Copyright 2013

All Rights Reserved

Bart was right behind him.  They breached the door and immediately began to fan out, clearing the rooms as they went.  It was Bart who found the woman, bruised and cut, but alive, near the back bedroom doorway.  She was sitting there half in and half out of the room, staring at the corpse of Arturo Pérez. 

Bart knelt beside her and touched her arm.  Her skin was clammy, but she looked calm¾oddly calm.  “Lucy, are you okay?”  She turned to face him, her brown eyes dark and unreadable.  He expected her to be in shock, but her expression was different¾more resigned than anything else.  She glanced away, touching her hairline just above the large cut on her head that was bleeding down her face. 

“I’m fine.”  Her voice was scratchy and raw-sounding and she winced, betraying the lie she’d just told him.  She wasn’t fine.  Her petite frame curled into a ball and she drew her bare feet under her as if needing the warmth.  She cleared her throat a few times, focusing on the body in front of her again.

He took in the rest of her appearance and his stomach dropped to the floor.  She looked liked she’d been torn from her bed.  Her hair was coming out of its ponytail, her yoga pants were now stained with blood and her loose t-shirt had been ripped down one side, far enough that he could see the familiar scar near her collarbone¾which was the confirmation he needed. 

This was definitely the Lucy he’d known as a teen.  She’d gotten that scar when they’d raced down a hill on bikes.  He’d easily won, but Lucy had fallen off when she’d tried to stop and hit the ground hard.  Her collarbone had poked through her skin and once it had healed left a scar in a sort of jagged “B” shape.  There was no mistaking it.  This was his Lucy.  And she worked for one of the most notorious drug cartels in the world. 

“Luce?”  He reached out to touch the scar, but she recoiled.  “Luce, it’s me.”

“Bart?”  Her eyes widened in surprise.  “Bart Gutiérrez?”

He pushed his helmet back a bit so she could get a better look at his face. Had he changed too much for her to recognize him?  “Yeah.”  He spoke gently, afraid of the nostalgic feelings that were surfacing for the girl he’d known years ago.  Stay professional.  “Let’s get you out of here.  You need a doctor.”  He bent down, reaching out a hand.

She pulled back from him.  “What are you doing here?  How did Nico get to you so quickly?”

Bart furrowed his brow.  “I’m a detective with the Hartford PD.  I’m here to help you.”  She wasn’t making sense, but Bart had seen victims react to stress in different ways.  From the bump on her head, she might have a concussion as well.  “Let me help you up.”

He didn’t know exactly where to touch her to help her up.  Even through her dark tan he could see bruises starting to purple on her arms and neck.  Going for the one place that was usually safe in these situations, he took her by the elbow and gently raised her to a standing position.  She was small, the top of her head barely reaching his chest.  Her legs gave way as she straightened and she stumbled a bit, nearly falling into the room where Arturo lay.  She caught herself by grabbing on to Bart’s vest.  “Sorry,” she mumbled.

“I’ve got you.” He put his arm around her shoulders to steady her.  He couldn’t recall very many times she’d leaned on him when they were kids.  Usually she was out to prove that she could do anything he could do.  This Lucy had an air of fragility around her that made him want to shield her from anything hurtful.

Several other entry team officers crowded around them, and she shrank into his side, her head tucking into his shoulder.  “He was going to kill me,” she stated, her voice still scratchy, but matter-of-fact.  She stared at the bloody scene in front of her.  “I had to do it.”

“I know,” he reassured her and pulled her closer to block her view of the body.  “Can you walk or should I carry you?”

She looked around at the other officers and straightened her back.  “I can walk.”  Her tone was determined and he knew she’d walk whether she really could or not.  Now that was more like the Lucy he remembered.

He carefully led her away, keeping his arm around her.  She leaned into him a few times as they picked a path through the trashed home and all sorts of protective feelings rushed to the surface.  He caught sight of overturned furniture and broken glass, so he gingerly lifted her in his arms, trying to be cognizant of her injuries.  She protested the action, but he nodded toward her bare feet.  “You don’t want to cut up your feet.  I’ll just get you outside.” 

“Okay,” she murmured as she slipped her arm around his neck, but it didn’t really sound like it was okay.  “I just can’t believe you’re a part of this.”

She still wasn’t making sense.  Her body was tense, nearly rigid in his arms, and her skin felt like ice.  He hoped she wasn’t going into shock.  “Relax,” he said into her ear.  “I won’t hurt you.  I’m here to help.”

She didn’t reply, but she did relax slightly, resting her forehead on his shoulder for a moment.  His grip on her tightened.  What had happened in that house before they’d gotten to her? 

Once they got outside there was a crowd of men waiting for them, joining the group of officers that had followed them out.  Every cop and agent within a ten-mile radius had descended on the scene.   

“We’ll take it from here,” the Special Agent-in-Charge said tersely.  Bart tensed.  This wasn’t just an op to take credit for.  Lucy had a name, she was more than a mission.  The crowd of men surrounding him surged forward and Bart’s arms tightened around her.  This was wrong, but he didn’t know how to fix it.  He reluctantly set Lucy down and handed her over to the SAC. 

When the guy got out the handcuffs, Bart protested.  “She’s hurt.  Are those really necessary?”

The SAC didn’t even look at him, just pulled her arms forward.  He tightened the cuffs around her wrists and then led her back toward the staging area where the cars were parked.  Lucy glanced back, her brows knitted together, as if she wasn’t quite sure what was going on.  Every instinct in Bart wanted to keep her at his side, to make sure she was okay, and then ask her what she was doing with Arturo Pérez.  What had happened to being a veterinarian?  What had led her to this life?  Bart steeled himself, shoving down his emotions.  Do the job.  She’s not my concern now.

Yet he still watched her in the middle of the crowd, the only person not in a suit.  She held her head high, though she was barefoot, bleeding, and her clothing torn.  Hopefully they were taking her to the hospital.  Even with that delay, it would be a long day of questioning for her.  He closed his eyes for a moment, wondering if he should try to do something to help her.  What can I do? Call her drug boss to come get his employee?  Disgusted, he turned away.

Colby walked up to him.  “Was it her?”

Bart nodded and took off his helmet.  What else could he say?

“I’m sorry.  I heard Homeland say they’re taking her back to the station for debriefing.  Captain Reed’s trying to figure out where to put everyone since they’re traveling with a freaking entourage.”

Bart looked at him in disbelief.  “She needs to go to the hospital before they question her.  Did you see her head wound? She definitely needs stitches.”

Colby agreed.  “Yeah, I saw a bit of the fight through the scope and that girl has some moves.  She’s small, but quick and deadly.”

“Probably a good thing in her line of work,” Bart said.

“Yeah.”  Colby wiped a hand over his face.  “Everyone’s pretty anxious to question her and see what she knows.”  He let out a breath and stared at the front of the house.  “We don’t have to worry about that, though. We’re on clean-up duty. Guess all the bigwigs are better at bragging and questioning than doing the actual work.” 

“No glory for the little guy, just grunt work,” Bart commented.  “What are we looking at crime scene-wise?”

“A lot of drugs in the house, and the body of Arturo Pérez, which means we have to do this by the book.  Number two guy of the Castillo cartel dead on our turf means whatever we do will be scrutinized as high as it goes.  If we screw up, that’s pretty much our career.”  He bent over to set his rifle case on the ground.  “Too bad we couldn’t take him alive, but better him than her, right?”

Colby’s words rang through Bart’s ears and he nodded. “Better him than her,” he murmured.  He believed that, but after working narcotics, he’d seen what addiction could do to a person.  Was a drug life any life at all? And just because Lucy worked for a cartel didn’t mean she was an addict, right?

He’d never imagined anything like that for the Lucy he’d known, but life had a funny way of not turning out how it was supposed to.  He straightened and faced the doorway of the house he’d just come out of with Lucy.  Focus.  “Better get started.  It’s going to be a long day for us,” he said to Colby.  And for Lucy, too, he thought as he went inside.

McRoll Fanfic--Breathless

Now remember this is my first attempt at a McRoll fanfic (Commander Steve McGarrett and Lieutenant Catherine Rollins from Hawaii Five-O) so be gentle in your critique!  I hope you like it McRoll fans!

Breathless

One Shot
Right After North Korea Mission

Steve hadn’t been able to sleep on the plane.  Memories of Freddie flitted in and out of his mind, making him miss his old friend even more.  Catherine’s fingers tightened around his, as if she could read his thoughts.

“Almost home.”  She turned in her seat and winced, her hand going to her side.

“Your ribs still hurting you?” he asked, sitting up a little straighter so he could see her better.

“It’s nothing,” she said again, but he didn’t believe her.  The pained look on her face told him what she wasn’t saying.

“You need to let me bind that.”  He leaned down to grab his duffel and get the medical tape out of the side pocket.

“Steve, I’m fine and besides, these seats are too close together. There’s no way you could tape my ribs right now.”

He grinned.  “Is that a challenge?”  Unzipping the bag, he pulled out the tape and held it up.

Catherine laughed, but sucked in a breath at the movement.  Tears started to pool in her eyes.  “Okay, it’s actually getting bad enough that I want you to try whether we’re on a plane or not.”

Steve adjusted his position, bending a bit to get a better look at her injury.  Raising her shirt to see her lower ribs, his fingers brushed over her bare skin.  He felt the jolt of awareness go through both of them at the contact and he smiled.  The connection they had was something he could always count on and it had been that way since the beginning.   He let his hands slide around her back, slowly and carefully pressing on different points as he made sure no ribs were actually broken.

“I thought you were going to tape my ribs,” she said, her voice breathless at his ministrations.  And possibly the fact that his hands had wandered a bit.

“I am.  In a minute.”  He bent closer to her until their noses were almost touching.  The dim light in the cabin cast shadows over her face and Steve reached up to cup her cheek in his hand.  He tipped her chin upward, watching her.  She’d stood by him, risked her life to help him.  There wasn’t even a word for what he felt for her in this moment.  “Thanks for helping me bring Freddie home.”  His voice was hoarse and the words faltered as he stroked his thumb over her bottom lip.

She pressed her cheek against his palm, her eyes never leaving his.  “You’re welcome.” 

He gently brushed his lips against hers.  He intended to make it short, but the second he kissed her, the desire to be closer to her and for her to know how he felt about what she’d done washed over him like a wave he couldn’t control.  He pulled her against him, tasting her, wishing they weren’t on the plane.  Catherine reached up, putting one arm around his neck, returning the urgency.  He let his hand drop to her throat, feeling her pulse pounding under his thumb.  With a groan, she pulled away, leaning her forehead against his.

“Steve,” she whispered.

He knew it was selfish of him to kiss her right now, but he couldn’t resist.  He just wanted to be near her, and what had happened in North Korea had only deepened that feeling. 

He pulled away a bit so he could look at her.  She traced his eyebrow, her wandering touch soft on the new scar he’d received on their mission.  “Does this mean you’re admitting defeat?”

“Defeat?” he asked, tempted to kiss her again.

“That you can’t tape my ribs on a plane.”

“No, definitely not defeat.  I'll admit I was distracted maybe.”  He gave her a lazy smile. 

She sat back, lifting her shirt to get a look at the bruises she’d sustained.  “As enjoyable as that was . . .”  she looked down at her bruises then back up at him with expectation. 

“Got it.”  Leaning over, he took the tape and tilted her back in her seat.  With deft hands he bound her as tightly as he could.  He did it fast, hardly able to bear the pained gasps she couldn’t suppress.  “Almost done.”  She gritted her teeth and let him finish without a word.  Or maybe she couldn’t speak through the pain.  Steve’s stomach churned at the fact that he could have lost her.  If even one more thing had gone wrong in North Korea, it might have been a lot worse than cracked ribs.  He took a deep breath and put that thought out of his mind as he smoothed the last bit of tape over her ribcage. She was here with him.  Safe.  “Better?”

“Much,” she said, slowly letting out a bit of air,  “as long as I don’t breathe.”

He carefully pulled her against his shoulder as best he could, tucking her there.  Where she fit.  Where she belonged.  “I’ll try harder not to take your breath away, then.”

She chuckled and snuggled into his side.  “Thanks. You’re so thoughtful.”

He stroked her hair until he knew she was asleep, his thoughts on her and Freddie and Kelly. Freddie and Kelly had waited too long to see what was right in front of them.  Steve didn’t want to make the same mistake with Catherine.  He pressed a kiss to the top of her head.  Maybe it was time to start making some plans.

Want to read some of my other McRoll fanfics?  

Click here for Let's Go Home

Click here for Safe Harbor

Click here for The Long-Awaited Dinner

Click here for Always

Click here for the Season 5 Finale Fic

Book Review and Giveaway: Blackmoore

I loved Julianne Donaldson's first book, Edenbrooke, (which is specially priced on Kindle at $1.99 for September. You can find it here) and I will admit with no shame that that book has been my go-to rainy day book since I read it.  Until now.  Blackmoore is so hauntingly beautiful, I know I will be reading my favorite passages from it for a long time to come.

The thing that sets Donaldson's work apart for me is her memorable characters.  Kate and Henry in Blackmoore had me hanging on their every interaction.  There are moments that are funny, moments that are sentimental, as it should be between two childhood friends, and moments that are so romantic you find yourself sighing along with the heroine.  It was so easy to identify with them, the societal rules that cause problems, the family that keeps them apart, and the undeniable connection that brings them together.

Kate's longing to go to Blackmoore and her joy in being there (that is only marred by the bargain she makes with her mother) makes Kate's character leap off the page and brings the reader into being right there with her and feeling what she is feeling.  The scenes up in Henry's secret hideaway were truly phenomenal and he was a hero that every good romance should have.  Not to mention the twist at the end that kept me up far past my bedtime so I could see how it played out. Donaldson does not disappoint on any level--the characters, the setting, the story, they are all well done.  I highly recommend this one to any historical romance fan.

If you want to win a copy of this book, just go like Julianne Donaldson's Facebook page here and then come tell me you did that in the comment trail.  Winner will be announced next week.

Here's the back copy:

Kate Worthington knows her heart and she knows she will never marry. Her plan is to travel to India instead—if only to find peace for her restless spirit and to escape the family she abhors. But Kate’s meddlesome mother has other plans. She makes a bargain with Kate: India, yes, but only after Kate has secured—and rejected—three marriage proposals.

Kate journeys to the stately manor of Blackmoore determined to fulfill her end of the bargain and enlists the help of her dearest childhood friend, Henry Delafield. But when it comes to matters of love, bargains are meaningless and plans are changeable. There on the wild lands of Blackmoore, Kate must face the truth that has kept her heart captive. Will the proposal she is determined to reject actually be the one thing that will set her heart free?

Set in Northern England in 1820, Blackmoore is a Regency romance that tells the story of a young woman struggling to learn how to follow her heart. It is Wuthering Heights meets Little Women with a delicious must-read twist.

Ms. Shreditor Speaks on Plagiarism and Permissions

There was no sample to critique this week, so Julie turned the reins over to me and allowed me to choose this week’s topic. She should know by now how dangerous it is to give me a microphone without conditions, so don’t say I didn’t warn you.

In all seriousness, I wanted to talk briefly this week about plagiarism and permissions. I’ve had some experiences with plagiarism over the past few years that would make your blood curdle. I’ve seen books cancelled because entire articles had been pilfered from the Internet. I’ve seen well-meaning authors pull material from various Internet sources without proper citation because of an erroneous belief that what’s on the Internet is free for the unattributed taking. (It isn’t.)

The reason this is so important is that a copyright attorney isn’t going to care if you meant well when you cut and pasted someone else’s material and forgot to include the citation, or that you weren’t familiar with copyright laws. Copyright infringement is copyright infringement.

Even when you’re writing fiction, this can become an issue. Say you’re offering up a basic history of Paris in your romance novel or basic biographical details about Charlemagne in your historical. You need to make sure that you’re conveying these facts in your own words and not lifting text from Wikipedia. (Yes, I’ve seen this happen.) This doesn’t mean changing a word here and there to “make it your own”—unattributed paraphrasing still constitutes plagiarism. This means presenting the material in a fresh, new way that could only have been written by you.

Next on the agenda is permissions. There are certain items you can’t just pull from source material and use in your book, even if you’ve attributed them correctly. Large excerpts of source text (particularly articles from newspapers and magazines) typically require written permission from the original publisher or author. The same can apply for poetry excerpts, depending on how you use them and whether or not the poetry is in the public domain. The same applies for images; unless they’re in the public domain, you must obtain written permission from the photographer, illustrator, or owner before running it in your book. Never, ever pull images arbitrarily from Google Images or other photo sharing sites.

The most important permissions-related element I can warn you about, however, is the use of song lyrics. Maybe there’s a Radiohead lyric you just have to use in your YA romance. Maybe you want to express your character’s anger through some gritty heavy metal lyrics. Don’t do it. Record labels are notoriously litigious about use of their artists’ lyrics without written/paid permission, even if the excerpt would otherwise qualify as “fair use.” And those permissions, even if they’re only for a few lines of a song, don’t come cheap. I recently worked on a nonfiction book that ran four lines from a song, and it cost the author hundreds of dollars. It’s rarely worth the trouble or expense in a piece of fiction, unless the plot pertains directly to the artist/song being quoted. If you still feel compelled to run that Justin Bieber verse in your novel after reading my warning, consider whether or not it’s vital enough to the book to justify the hefty price tag.

So what’s my secret? How do I sniff out plagiarism when I’m editing a manuscript? I’d love to say that I’ve caught every little instance of copyright infringement in a manuscript, but I’m not a machine. However, I have some pretty powerful tools at my disposal: Google, the Microsoft Word formatting palette, and my editorial instincts. I can often just “tell” when writing veers away from the author’s voice and becomes something else entirely. When I’m not sure, I can look at the Microsoft Word formatting bar and check for text styled as “Normal (Web),” an indication that text has been copied and pasted from a website. If the text is styled normally and I’m still not convinced, I start Googling random phrases within quotation marks as a final check. This is how I’ve caught 99 percent of plagiarism instances. (Once, an author actually came forward at first pages and admitted it. We had to pull the book out of production and send it out to be scrubbed clean of plagiarism. It was a nightmare, to say the least.)

I advise you all to go out and do your research regarding fair use, permissions, and copyright laws. It’s complex, but, as I mentioned before, ignorance is no excuse. Copyright lawsuits are so easily avoided with just a basic understanding of the rules, so invest a little time now to save a lot of money and sleepless nights later.

Back Cover Copy Reveal for Pocket Full of Posies

I am just so excited about my new book coming out.  Have you seen the back copy for it yet?  No?

Well here it is . . . .

*drum roll*

They say to keep your friends close, but your enemies closer . . .

Hostage Negotiation Team member Bart Gutierrez is shocked to find Lucy Aguayo, a girl he knew as a teenager, working for the deadly Castillo drug cartel. This revelation uncovers a secret in Bart's family so big it forces him to accept a dangerous offer: infiltrate the cartel to clear his name. Once inside the cartel’s headquarters he discovers that a large-scale attack on America is imminent and the only way to prevent it is to bring Lucy in on his plans---and hope she doesn’t betray him.

Lucy Aguayo has become a key player in the Castillo cartel, but not for money or power---she's on a mission of vengeance for her father's murder. Just when she gets a chance to bring down the cartel leader responsible, Bart Gutierrez appears, stirring up buried feelings and disrupting all her plans. But as the enemy closes in from all sides, Lucy must choose between being free from her past or finding justice for it. Can she give up everything she’s ever believed in?


So, there it is.  What do you think?