Plot Monkeys

After all the deadline drama of this week, I thought I’d give you all a special holiday treat.

My latest book, SECRET SANTA, should be out in the stores this week, just in time for your holiday shopping! It’s a Harlequin Blaze anthology (along with authors Isabel Sharpe and Jennifer LeBrecque), and all three stories are written with the Secret Santa theme in mind. My story, HE’D BETTER WATCH OUT, was incredibly fun to write and I hope you all enjoy this special excerpt that is only being shared here in the jungle!

By the way, there is an excerpt at my website of the opening scene of this story, which would give you a better idea of what’s happening in this fun, sexy excerpt. If you’d like to read the excerpt at my website before reading this one below, you can do so here: READ WEBSITE EXCERPT.

For those of you who might not read that opening excerpt posted at my website, let me give you a bit of background on this story. My heroine, Amanda, has had an angel on one shoulder (Angela) and a devil on the other (Desiree), since she was a child. Of course, it’s purely in her own imagination, but these two are constantly pulling at her conscience, as you’ll see in the excerpt below. Angela attempts to keep Amanda a good girl, while Desiree is always trying to get Amanda to walk on the wild side and be a bit of a bad girl, because bad girls have more fun.

Leading up to this story, the hero of the story, Christian, is desperate to find out who his Secret Santa is, and Amanda, who is the keeper of the secret santa list, and is Christian’s secret santa, isn’t about to tell him it’s HER. So, Christian takes matters into his own hands and breaks into Amanda’s office one evening right after she leaves work . . . and gets caught by Amanda with the secret santa list in his hands . . . but not before he discovers that it’s Amanda who is his secret santa!

And now, the holiday fun begins:

Oh, yeah, now this is getting good! From Amanda’s left shoulder, Desiree rubbed her hands together and her eyes sparkled with anticipation and glee, taking obvious delight in the recent turn of events.

Amanda, on the other hand, was mortified to find Christian in her office — secret santa list clutched between his long fingers. She’d definitely startled him, but he didn’t look at all worried about being caught in the act. In fact, there was a certain smugness and confidence about him that caused a frisson of awareness to take hold.

And judging by the satisfied look in his eyes, there was no doubt in her mind that he was now well aware that she’d given him that very intimate gift and note.

What did you expect? Angie scolded, like the mother Amanda had lost at such a young age. When you play with fire you’re bound to get burned.

If that’s the case, then burn me, baby, Desiree said in a low, sultry purr that was directed Christian’s way.

Ha! Angie crossed her arms over her chest. You’re so used to the heat, you have no idea what it’s like to be burned!

You’re just jealous that I like it hot. Desiree smirked.

Stop, both of you! Amanda gave her head a hard shake. I can’t think straight with the two of you squabbling in my mind!

The voices went quiet, but Amanda knew the reprieve was only temporary. Neither Angie nor Desiree was about to miss this show-down between her and Christian.

When Amanda had gotten down to her car and realized she’d forgotten a file for an article she planned on editing over the holiday weekend, she never would have imagined that a quick trip back up to her office would turn into a confrontation she had no wish to have with Christian. But other than ignoring the fact that he’d broken into her office and had gone through her personal files, she didn’t have much choice.

She just hoped and prayed that she’d be able to get out of this very awkward situation with her pride intact.

“I asked you what you were doing in here,” she said, lifting her chin in a show of authority.

“Well, now, that should be obvious,” he said in a slow, lazy drawl that had way too much of an affect on Amanda’s sorely neglected libido. “I’m getting the answer that you weren’t willing to give me earlier in the break room. With good reason, it seems, considering you’re my secret santa.”

Despite that truth, there was no way she was going to let him get the upper hand. Squaring her shoulders, she strode into the room and right up to Christian, focusing on a more condemning issue that involved him. “You broke into my office. I could have you written up for that, or even fired.”

An infuriatingly sexy smile curved up the corner of his lips. “But you won’t do either.”

She arched a brow. “And what makes you so sure about that?”

He leaned a shoulder against her file cabinets, making himself comfortable. “For starters, I have a list right here in my hand showing that you’re my secret santa.”

Unimpressed, she shrugged. “So.”

“I also have a very suggestive note from you, which if brought to light, could be misconstrued in many ways.”

Hearing the idle threat in his words, she narrowed her gaze. “Such as?”

“Let’s see,” he said, taking a moment to think as his eyes glimmered with amusement. “There’s always sexual harassment.”

She opened her mouth, then snapped it shut again. He was toying with her, just as she’d toyed with him, and he was enjoying every minute of it. “Oh, that’s a rich claim, coming from the office bad boy.”

“Hey, I’ve been a very good boy for months now,” he said, affecting a virtuous look that would have made Angie proud. “And I’m quite sure that your father would be absolutely appalled to find out his daughter wrote such a naughty letter to me.”

“Ohhhh, you’re a rat!” Her hands clenched into fists at her sides, even though she knew that she was to blame for riling him in the first place with that tie and note. This whole entire mess was her fault, but that didn’t mean she was going to let Christian have any kind of advantage over her.

“Give me that list.” She held out her hand.

“Nope.” He folded the piece of paper in half, then in another half, making a tidy square. “It’s my security deposit. You get me for breaking and entering, and I have the secret santa list and a very sexy note to go with it.”

She gasped in shock. “That’s blackmail.”

“Hmmm.” He grinned shamelessly and winked at her, exuding way too much charm for her peace of mind. “Sure, if that’s what you want to call it.”

She made a quick grab for the folded paper, but he was quicker. He held it just out of her grasp, and unless she wanted to plaster her body against his to reach the list, she was out of luck. It was an appealing thought, but she didn’t want to end up in a wrestling match with him, no matter how much Desiree would enjoy being a spectator to that sport.

“Give it back, Christian.” She used a firm, no-nonsense tone that usually got her exactly what she wanted.

Not today and not with Christian. “If you want it that badly, you’ll have to get it yourself.” He slid the folded list down the front of his pants, his gaze brimming with a wicked challenge. “That is, if you dare.”

Stunned by his audacity, she gaped at him, though she couldn’t deny that the tips of her fingers tingled at the thought of chasing after that paper. Heat flushed across her cheeks and down her body, making her wool coat feel suffocating and unbearably warm.

He laughed, a low, rich chuckle that slid down her spine like a silky caress and increased her awareness of him. “I didn’t think so. Afraid you might just get more than you bargained for?”

Oh, yeah. “You’re a cad.”

“I’ve certainly been called worse.” He crossed his arms over his chest and regarded her with mild curiosity. “But you, Ms. Creighton, are a tease. What was that tie and note about, anyway?”

The shocking truth lodged in her throat, and thankfully a quick, logical explanation popped into her head. “It was a joke, okay?” One that had taken a turn she never would have anticipated.

“A joke,” he said, repeating her words and looking as though he was mulling over her response. “Was it because you wanted to get me all hot and bothered?”

Her heart skipped a beat at his too accurate guess. “Of course not!” she managed to sputter. For a woman who was always kept her emotions in check, especially at work, this man had a way of flustering her from head to toe.

You wouldn’t be in this situation if you’d just listened to me. Angie whispered. But nooo, you were weak and let Desiree lead you over to the dark side.

“Well, just in case you’re curious, it did get me all hot and bothered,” he said, humor and something far sexier lacing his voice. “That is, until the possibility crossed my mind that either Stacey or Drew had given me such a provocative gift.” He shuddered for effect, telling Amanda without words how he felt about those two scenarios.

A burst of laughter escaped her before she could stop it, relieving a bit of the nervous tension pulling tight within her. In a way she’d never admit to him, she now better understood his desperate need to find out who his secret santa was.

“You find that funny?” He tried to appear stern, but couldn’t hide the mirth flickering in his gaze.

She pressed her fingers to her lips to hold in her laughter, but couldn’t stop another residual chuckle. “It really is funny when you think about it. Especially with Drew.”

“I’m glad you’re so amused.” Pushing away from the file cabinet, he moved toward her and stopped less than a foot away. “As for me, I’m much more intrigued by the fact that you sent me that tie, and wrote me that note.” Lifting his hand, he grazed his thumb along the line of her jaw, while his fingers dipped just inside the high collar of her sweater and caressed the side of her neck. “Why did you do it, Amanda?” he asked huskily.

Her pulse tripped all over itself at his sensual touch, and her nipples tightened into hard peaks, aching for the same kind of intimate attention. She inched backwards to break the contact, and her bottom connected with the edge of her desk.

“I told you, it was a joke,” she said lightly. “A gag gift.”

“Liar,” he chided softly. Slowly, he closed the distance between them once again, and she knew just by looking into his dark, determined eyes that he wouldn’t let her escape him so easily a second time. “I think you’re secretly attracted to me.”

Instinctively, she pressed a hand to his chest to hold him off, and immediately realized her mistake when she felt the solid heat and strength of his body beneath her fingers. Her attraction, the one she was just about to deny, flared into full blown desire. She struggled to breathe, and when she finally did manage to inhale she drew in the heady scent of sandlewood and aroused male.

She swallowed back a needy groan. Feeling her physical response to him slipping a few critical notches, she kept her hand splayed on his chest and grasped for control. “Don’t flatter yourself, Cassanova,” she said with a sassy toss of her head. “Attraction has nothing to do with it.”

“Oh, really?” A too perceptive smile eased up the corner of his tempting mouth as he slipped his hand inside her coat and boldly settled his large palm on her hip. “If you’re not attracted to me, then why are you trembling?”

She rolled her eyes, pretending indifference, which wasn’t an easy feat when everything about Christian made her acutely sensitive to just how alone the two of them were in the office building. “You’re obviously imagining things.”

“Am I?” He tipped his head, studying her like a man who had all the time in the world, and planned to use every minute to make her squirm. “Maybe we ought to put the attraction theory to a little test.”

She frowned, immediately wary. “What kind of test?”

Instead of responding verbally, he used the slow, gradual press of his body against hers to make his point, proving he was a man of action, rather than words when it came to getting a woman’s attention. Their hips and thighs met, and the curve of her bottom caught on the edge of her desk. Sliding the fingers of his free hand into her hair, he cupped the back of her head in his palm. He gave a small, light, arousing tug on the strands tangled around his fingers, forcing her face to tip up toward his.

His gaze was hypnotic as it stared into hers. Dark and hot, and filled with all kinds of sinful intent.

The heat alone was enough to make her melt from the inside out. Between the hard, powerful body aligned against hers like a familiar lover, and the strong male hands anchoring her even more securely to the spot, she felt breathlessly excited, and a whole lot out of her element when it came to this kind of situation.

“What . . .” Her voice rasped, and she swallowed to clear her throat, though it was impossible to steady her erratic pulse. “What are you doing?”

“That should be obvious.” His lashes fell half-mast over his eyes, and his mouth eased into a slumberous smile, making him all the more sexy and appealing. “I’m putting your ‘I’m-not-attracted-to-you’ claim to the test. So far, you seem to be failing.”

He lowered his head toward hers, and a swell of panic rose within her. She curled her fingers into the fabric of his shirt, knowing that if his lips so much as touched hers she’d be a goner. Putty in his hands to do with as he wished. She knew he was just playing with her, attempting to get even for the gift and note she’d given him, and that was reason enough to put a halt to this crazy situation.

“Christian,” she said as a way of putting him off, except his name escaped on a soft, sultry, tell-tale moan.

His lips skimmed along her cheek to her ear, and nuzzled that sensitive spot beneath the lobe that made her shiver and increased the rapid beat of her heart. “Shhh,” he whispered, his breath feathering warm and damp against her skin. “This test won’t hurt a bit. I promise.”

That’s what she was most afraid of — receiving too much pleasure only to have him leave her craving so much more.

Go for it, Amanda. Desiree urged, her enthusiasm unmistakable. You know you want to.

Oh, yes, she did. So why was she fighting what she wanted so badly? Who cared that he was out to extract a bit of retribution, especially when he was offering such an erotic form of revenge. Tossing aside any last misgivings, she decided to seize the moment, enjoy the kiss, and whatever else Christian was willing to give.

Closing her eyes, she turned her head, seeking the warmth of his mouth with her own. Their lips met, his firm and sensual as they claimed hers and took control of the kiss. Reaching up, she tunneled her fingers into his thick, silky hair and opened to him, to the dampness and heat and the slow, deep stroke of his tongue.

The hands on her hips tightened as he pressed his lower body closer, harder, against hers in a slow, grinding thrust that made her moan deep in her throat. Shamelessly, she strained beneath the delicious assault, and as if knowing exactly what she needed, he slid his hands around to her bottom and lifted her so that she was sitting on the surface of her desk. He nudged her knees wide apart and moved in between her legs, branding her with the unmistakable pressure and friction of his rock hard erection rubbing against the sensitive place between her thighs.

His mouth slanted across her in a more provocative, dominating kiss, dragging her deeper under his spell and possessing her in a primitive, sexual way that was new and exciting to her. She was used to polite, courteous sex, not this explosion of aggression and heat that threatened to consume her.

She wrapped her legs around the back of his thighs and embraced the electrifying sensation. Desire began to flow through her veins, liquid and hot. Down to her aching breasts. Swirling in her belly. Making her sex weep for the pulsing, driving force of him sliding deep, deep inside her. Seemingly of their own accord, her hands slid down his chest and grazed the belt buckle securing the front of his pants.

Abruptly, he broke the kiss and jerked back, his expression stunned. He was breathing hard, his eyes dark and glazed with lust, and it took extreme effort on Amanda’s part not to pull him back and make him finish what he’d just started.

From her left shoulder, Desiree applauded her efforts. It’s about time. I was starting to worry about you.

Christian swore beneath his breath and stepped further away from Amanda, breaking all physical contact and leaving her sitting on the desk. A dark, troubled frown creased his brows and a muscle in his jaw ticked. In a carefully controlled voice that still held an underlying rasp of arousal, he said, “I need to get the hell out of here before we do something we’ll both regret.”

With that, he turned and walked out of her office, leaving her alone and very confused about what had just happened between them. Considering their working relationship, and Christian’s love ‘em and leave ‘em reputation, she ought to be grateful that at least he’d been thinking clearly enough to stop things before they’d escalated to the point of no return.

But she wasn’t grateful. She was disappointed.

Wow, the man certainly knows how to kiss, among other things, Desiree said breathlessly.

Even Angie fanned herself, a pink blush sweeping across her cheeks. Despite that, she still managed to put everything back into perspective, as was her job as Amanda’s guardian angel. Of course he does. He’s had a whole lot of experience.

Experience is a very good thing, Desiree retorted with a sly smile.

Amanda dragged a shaky hand through her hair and stood on less than steady legs. “Yeah, well, it doesn’t seem to matter now. He got exactly what he wanted, and now it’s over.”

He’d taken the list for safe-keeping, and a kiss for revenge. An erotic, bone-melting kiss that would haunt her dreams for a long time to come.

BY THE NUMBERS

0: The number of storms that formed in October, the first time since 2002 that no storms formed that month. Also, no Category 4 or 5 storms formed this year for the first time since 1997.

We are officially one day away from the end of hurricane season, so I think it’s safe for me to breathe a big sigh of relief that the state of Florida, particularly the Tampa Bay area, has again gotten through June through November without a major storm. YEEHAH!!!

I have to confess, though…I still have all my important papers in a water-tight file box right here next to my desk. The hurricane season of 2004 is still pretty fresh in the collective minds of all Floridians…including both Leslie and I, who rode out Charley together. She moved. Now she has snow. (Well, not at this very moment, but soon…very soon.) I, however, am enjoying the months that explain why people move to Florida.

But we have enough people living here already, so I’m not going to brag about our sixty-two degree Christmases. I just want to celebrate that I can now start donating the can goods from my hurricane preparedness kit to charity…just in time for the holidays!

And talk about my deadline. That does seem to be the theme for the week, doesn’t it?

I had every intention, by the way, of being finished with this book back in October, two whole months before it was due. But you know, life happens…or in my case, career happens. When my editor from Pocket left her job to edit gardening books back in June, my career was turned upside down. I took two months off to work on a proposal for a new series that I had not planned on writing…but it was a pre-emptive strike in case Pocket dropped Marisela. Which is what happened. And because I’d taken those two months off, I was prepared to move to Signet/NAL.

So it wasn’t like I was wasting time and not writing. I just wasn’t working on the book that was due the soonest. The actual deadline isn’t until the 15th, but my very wise Harlequin editor knows me well enough to fudge a little when she tells me when books are due. That way, when I run late (which I seem to do a lot lately) we have time to work and not TECHNICALLY be late.

I’m still planning on finishing by a week from Friday. Because, there’s this little detail of a novella I have due before Christmas. Where does the time go?

Well, I can tell you where it went yesterday. Monday night, my daughter was outside rollerblading with her friends. By about 5, they switched to hide and seek. By 5:30, they were on the trampoline in my neighbors back yard. Those of you who winced at the mention of a trampoline are justified. Apparently, sometime between 5:30 and 5:45 when I went to retrieve her for soccer practice, several of the kids ended up on top of my daughter’s arm. It was swollen. It hurt. She hadn’t gotten around to coming home and telling me yet (because, really, if she did that, she’d miss the fun, right?)

Now, I will readily admit that I did freak out a bit. First, because I’m not good in this type of crisis and second, because the last time she came home with a swollen hand and everyone insisted she’d just sprained it, I listened and took three days to get the kid to an orthopedist who set her BROKEN finger and put her in a cast for six weeks.

Fool me once…this time, I iced and decided ON MY OWN to forgo the emergency room. She wasn’t crying (like the first time) and while she complained about the pain, she wasn’t whiny. We slept in (yeah!) and then called the pediatrician and he worked us in right away. Well, right away is relatively speaking. Our pediatrician is 45 minutes away. Then we went to get X-rays. Then back to the pediatrician. Then home. We left at 9am and were back by 2pm. And you wonder where my day went?

But family first. I did carry the laptop with me and did manage to get two pages done. While this is a far cry from the 14.5 pages a day I must do in order to complete the book on time, something’s better than nothing. Before I took a break to write this blog, I’d completed another 4 pages. That’s 8.5 to go before the end of the night. It’s going to be a late one.

I was struggling with this book, but since yesterday, things are starting to flow. I just chatted with my editor and I know I’m on the right track. It’s all about trusting my instincts now and clearing out all other concerns so that I can concentrate on the book. And you all know that this is harder than it sounds.

But when stress is at an all-time high, I like to distract myself with good things. Like 62 degree weather. And the end of hurricane season. And the Christmas party for my writer’s group on Saturday at the Yacht Club where they mix a damned good margarita. And Diana is flying down from DC to attend! It’s my carrot. Not that I’ll stay home if I don’t finish my pages, but it’s nice to have incentive.

Okay, back to the witches of Chicago…

Beginning Madness - the beginning of writing a book, that is.
Leslie’s post yesterday resonated and so I thought I’d tell you where I am now … Beginning Madness. Same place I’m in every book when I start, tread water and feel like I’m getting nowhere. Like Les, I can see where I am going in my head. I am beginning to know my characters and they’re beginning to know each other. They want to know each other MUCH better, if you get my drift. I just need to hold them back for a bit longer. Let the story develop. Get them to what I call the “crucial” point which for me means that I’ve passed the point in the story where all the major elements (character, conflict – internal and external – for both characters individually and as a couple – come together. My AHA point. When I’ve introduced everything the reader needs to know in order to MOVE forward – to the middle which I must make certain doesn’t sag.

But discussing the dreaded sagging middle is getting ahead of myself. As I said, I’m at the beginning struggle. For me, there is a pattern here just like Leslie’s end (and like Leslie, I can zip through the end (usually, hopefully) in mere days. Not so for the beginning. I write. And rewrite. I add and send to Janelle to read. She critiques and I rewrite some more. During this process, I am adding page count, so it’s not completely treading water. It’s just a slower add than when I’m writing the rest of the story. I make the fixes Janelle asked for and I find some new ones that need to be accounted for. For example, my Christmas party beginning must become a New Year’s Eve party beginning. Not a big deal, you think? SAYS YOU! Every line in the story must be scrutinized to make sure that I don’t forget to fix something.

Next comes the blanks I left in the story. How old are my characters? Those XXX’s must be filled in some time and now is as good a time as any. It helps me feel as if I’m “wrapping up” the beginning with no loose ends. What are the names of my characters siblings and parents? (Also big XXX’s so far). Piddly things like that really are important.

Now on to the embarrassing parts. This is book four in a series. My readers have called me into account for HUGE errors from book to book (and I THANK them for alerting me). So now I have to reconcile inconsistencies and make sure I’m more careful going forward. Does Micki from the Hot Zone have a baby now as I said at the end of HOT NUMBER that she was pregnant? Or does she not have a baby because I never mentioned it in HOT ITEM? Slap me, someone for doing that! Does Annabelle have a baby girl or a baby boy? Yes, I’ve attributed both to my beautiful heroine. Sigh. We authors are only human, darn it.

So by now I have accounted for my errors and faced them bravely. I’ve filled in the XXX blanks I left. I can go forward, right? WRONG. (Stop yelling at me, Janelle! ). After I recognized the serious gaps between the three HOT books, I hired someone to read and take notes on them so I didn’t have continuity mistakes again. But I need to make a running list of people in the current story, including their hair color, eye color, siblings names, parents names, etc. And I need this on a corkboard at a glance or it takes me forever to flip through the pages of notes I have. The problem is that I have to be careful or this project could turn into weeks of fun – cutting and pasting fun photos of actors who resemble my characters and weeks of magazine and internet browsing. I should know. I’ve been there before. So I need to organize a bit.

AND THEN IT’S ONWARD AND UPWARD. I HOPE.
Due date: March 1, 2007.

I am quite sure that anyone who visits this blog or any other author’s site has heard the expression “deadline hell.”

Well, I’m writing to you from it. Greetings. Scenery’s great but it’s pretty freaking hot here.

I have promised a book to my editor by December 1st. Ish. Which is, uh, if I’m not mistaken, next weekend. Ish.

Anyway, I have a problem. Don’t get me wrong, it’s not that I’m not happy with this book. I LOVE it so far, I’m having a great time working on it. The characters are fun and sparkling, the story solid and interesting. I can’t wait for people to read this. BUT I still have the problem I have with every book, and it’s right now kicking my butt.

Here’s the problem: I’m so close to the end…but not quite there. I’ve hit The Hump. And I must get over it.

I can close my eyes and see the final section of the book rolled out in front of me and I can’t wait to get to it! But, as in every story, I climb…climb…climb toward the very crest of the hill…er, story…and my feet are slipping on the slope more and more every moment.

Once I hit the top and roll over the other side, I know I’ll slide down so fast to the end that I’ll barely be able to catch my breath. When I get past that hump, which I call the “three chapter warning” I can write the last 60 pages in a day if I want to. It flies out of me at the speed of light, my fingers can’t keep up with the story jetting toward the finish

But getting past those final few scenes, over the hump, just slays me. It’s agony. Painful. I go through this awful, indecisive time when I think, “I suck, why did I ever think I could do this, my career is over, nobody’s ever going to buy another one of my books again, I’ve written myself into a corner and I have no idea how to get out of it!”

That’s kind of where I am right now.

But I’m trying really hard to get past it. Step by step. Scene by scene. Word by word. I have no doubt that I will and it will be as good a book as I think it will. In the meantime, I just have to keep on climbing.

Keep your fingers crossed for me. I’m sure I’ll see you guys once I get to the bottom of the hill…just give me about a week. Ish.

The winner of Friday’s Jungle Madness Contest is:

Nicole (Comment #31)

Congratulations! Be sure to email me with your full name and mailing address at: janelle@janelledenison.com so I can mail you your prize. Oh, and you also need to let me know which book of mine you would like to receive!

And now, a Sunday funny. This picture cracked me up when I saw it, and I’m sure for all of you who have seen Brokeback Mountain you’ll get a chuckle out of this.

One month and counting to the BIGGEST reason for shopping…in that vein, Gigi asks:

What are the favorite holiday gifts you have received over the years?

JD: I’ve received many treasured gifts over the holidays from many special friends, items that make me smile when I see said item because it reminds me of how lucky I am to have such wonderful friends. On the Christmas after the year my first Temptation hit the shelves, I received a gift from a reader I’d been corresponding with — she sent me a wooden box that she hand-painted pansies on top of. The painting was so gorgeous, and the gift was so unexpected and beautiful, not to mention hand-crafted, that it brought tears to my eyes to think that someone I’d only known for a year over the internet had lovingly made it for ME. I still have that box in my formal living room, and I’m still friends with the person who made it for me. It’s those kinds of gifts that I treasure the very most!

CP: This is hard because as I’ve gotten older, I’ve been the giver more than the receiver. My husband and I have an agreement of sorts - when we see something we really want, regardless of holiday, if we can afford it, we buy it and we say it’s from each other. So the holidays really are about the kids and I think that’s how it should be. Like Janelle, I’ve received special gifts from treasured friends over the years and those mean the most to me - pictures of the four plotmonkeys in a frame - things like that. I’m sorry there’s no one answer, LOL. I do have special memories growing up of my parents putting all our gifts out on a table and letting us rip into them all at once! And the one year I remember most is a Neil Diamond 45 record of September Morn which I’d wanted so badly and a special pair of pajamas, LOL! I hope my kids have memories like that when they grow up.

LK: One gift that truly touched me more than anything in a very long time was a few years ago, when my husband gave me some bowls. You see, when I was a little girl, my mother started collecting a china set at her local bank. My parents had 6 kids and not a ton of money, and this was a way for her to get some nice china. With every $20 deposit, you could buy another piece at a big discount. I have very distinct memories of my mother breaking up her deposits so she could go back every day to buy more of the set. She got most of it…but not the bowls.

Now we’re talking a few decades ago–more than thirty years. After she died, I ended up with the china set, and over the years I’ve waxed nostalgic over it, talking about the bowls she never got. Well, my incredible husband did some research, scoured internet sites that specialize in “finding” old china patterns, and tracked down those bowls. When I opened them that Christmas morning, I began to cry my eyes out. Since then, I usually find one specially wrapped gift, with a sugar bowl, a serving tray, a platter…one more piece to add to the set. I have no idea where he gets them, but he never disappoints me. And now it has truly become my set, as well as my mother’s, and I hope to someday pass it on to one of my daughters.

JEL: This was a tough question! I think I have to pick the telephone table and chair that I received from my aunt about four years ago. You see, my maternal grandfather died when I was about eight years old. My grandmother didn’t want to live in her house alone, so it was up to my mother and her siblings to clean things out. I desperately wanted to keep this small table and chair that my grandmother used to keep her telephone on. The story goes that I cried horribly when my aunt, who collected antiques and had a HUGE house in Georgia in which to keep them, took the table and chair instead. I really don’t remember this exactly, but I do remember making a big deal about the set every time I went to visit my aunt in Georgia. About five years ago, my aunt and her husband, who had since relocated to Florida, decided to move to Gulfport, Mississippi and she was downsizing. I’d actually purchased some of her antiques from her. But on the Christmas before they left, my aunt brought out the set, which I hadn’t seen in years and gave it to me. It’s in my formal living room right now! I was really touched that she remembered, after all these years, how special that little table and chair were to me. It’s a gift that means a lot.

The holidays are literally right around the corner (where in the heck did 2006 go?), so I wanted to giveaway something fun and yummy to get everyone in the holiday mood. This week I’m giving away a Penguin “Tower of Confections”. Each part of the penguin is a different round box, and each box is filled with something decadent, such as: cocoa dusted truffles, vanilla caramel chews, dark chocolate pretzels and yogurt pretzels with peppermint pieces. Oh, wow, this giveaway makes me want to break my diet, so I’d better get it out of here SOON!!! Oh, and even after the treats are long gone, this adorable penguin tower makes a very cute holiday decoration!

The winner will also receive a book of their choice from Janelle’s backlist (depending on availability of book choice since there are some book she no longer has copies of), along with a fun “book thong”.

All you have to do to enter is post on today’s blog. Winner will be announced on Sunday, so be sure to stop by over the weekend to check and see if you’re the winner!

Thanksgiving is a day to be thankful for all the wonderful things in our lives. All of us Plotmonkeys are thankful for every one of YOU! We hope your Thanksgiving is filled with family, friends, and everything you’re thankful for!

Happy Thanksgiving,

Janelle, Leslie, Carly & Julie

Be sure to stop by tomorrow for another Friday Jungle Madness contest!

Tonight, I was futzing around on the Internet when I stumbled on a quiz tied to the television show, CHARMED.

Not surprisingly, I came up as Prue Halliwell, played by Shannen Doherty in the first few seasons before Shannen pissed off Aaron Spelling again, got booted and her character killed off. Funny part was, Prue was never my favorite sister, even if the character (not the actress!) is more like me than the others. Responsible. Loyal. Bossy. A little bit wicked. Still, my affinity was for Phoebe. Not only do I adore Alyssa Milano and have since her days on Who’s The Boss, but I liked the free-spirited, semi-irresponsible baby sister. She always provided great comic relief and great romance. (Cole anyone? Chris? Even Leo. Hot, hot, hot!)

Why all the witch talk? Yes, I do realize that Halloween is over. However, we have another Halloween coming up next year and I have two books coming out around that time with heroines who are witches. They are also sisters. No, I’m not stealing ideas from Charmed, but I am borrowing those aspects I love and working them into my own world. A world I’ve been building for a very long time. I’m writing the books now. Yes, both of them. Ooooh, I love deadlines!

Now, I know that some people are uncomfortable with discussions of witchcraft. I’m talking the fictional kind, here, people. I’ve studied enough about Wicca (the pagan religion where practioners call themselves witches) to write books that hopefully will not bother anyone who follows this spiritual path. I do have a secondary character in the Blaze who is Wiccan and I’m trying to be true to her. But my heroines aren’t “real” witches…they’re the fictional kind. The cool kind with powers. The kind I think every little girl hoped she could be, if not for just a moment after watching Bewitched.

My fascination with witches clearly started with Samantha Stevens. While the show debuted before I was born, ABC aired Saturday morning episodes through the later part of the show’s run, in the early 70’s. I simply adored Elizabeth Montgomery and thought she was the coolest. I loved Endora. And Serena! And of course, Aunt Clara. Who didn’t want an Aunt Clara. For the record, I cannot twitch my nose, something that vexes me to this day. (According to my research, Elizabeth Montgomery did not twitch her nose, but her upper lip…I still can’t do it. All Jeannie had to do was blink!)

I loved the series so much, I payed homage to them in my books PURE CHANCE and INSATIABLE, which were re-released last year as NEW ORLEANS NIGHTS. Samantha and Serena were my heroines. Their mother was Endora. The cat was Tabitha II and the dog was Maurice. In my current series, the aunt’s character is named Marion–after the Emmy-winning actress who played Aunt Clara.

While I loved that Samantha’s powers pretty much spanned all possibilities, I was fascinated then by the fictional witch who came next in my life…Willow from Buffy the Vampire Slayer. Willow was a witch who had to work at her craft, literally. More in line with the Wiccan tradition but bolstered by the fantasy magic that drove the series, Willow wasn’t a perfect witch. She made mistakes. She was tempted by evil. She was tempted by love. She was a combination of Samantha and Serena, but without the perfect magic.

Then came Charmed. The world building in this show always fascinated me (though watching it in reruns or on DVD has caused me to catch all sorts of plot inconsistencies I’d rather not have known about!) Each sister had one or two powers. They had to learn how to be witches and in the first season at least, never scry (using magic to find a missing person) or make potions. I loved their journey. And let’s face it–they got the hottest guys!

My most recent favorite witch is Hermoine Granger from the Harry Potter series, mainly because I know that Hermoine has so much more up her sleeve than she lets on. She’s a brilliant witch, but an even more amazing young woman. The world JK Rowling created for her witches and wizards is completely original and gives a whole new layer with the magical living in the same world as muggles, and yet completely apart. But the basics of life as a magical creature or as a normal person are the same. Anyone who thinks the Harry Potter series is about witchcraft really hasn’t read them. It’s about the power of friendship and love.

I think at the most basic level, so was Charmed. It was the Power of Three–the connection between the three sisters–that bolstered the entire series. Even Buffy was more about friendship and loyalty and love than magic and demons and evil. I think it can be argued that in many ways, Bewitched also had love at its core. Sure, Sam could do all kinds of cool things by wriggling her nose, but in the end, all that mattered was her love for Darrin (either Dick York or Dick Sargeant…I preferred the original. He was bumbling and cute and meant well. Sargeant always seemed to me to have something shoved up his…well, you get the idea.)

So as I create my world for my witches, which borrows a little from all these influences, though it is entirely my own (with help from authors Rhonda Nelson and Mia Zachary, who are writing novellas with me set in this world), I have to remember that love and loyalty and the great responsibility of power are the foundation of my stories. I hope that comes across once they are published. I know that paranormal is “hot” right now…but I always worry about the readers who simply don’t like the woo-woo. I’ve always loved the woo-woo! I can’t imagine a fantasy world without the woo-woo!

Anyway, that’s my witch blog. Now, back to the magic…

I’m tired … and I have to blog … and so you’re getting a joke!

This 80 year old woman was arrested for shop lifting.

When she went before the judge in Cincinnati he asked her,

“What did you steal?” She replied, “A can of peaches.”

The judge then asked her why she had stolen the can of peaches

and she replied that she was hungry. The judge then asked her

how many peaches were in the can. She replied 6.

The judge then said, “I will then give you 6 days in jail.”

Before the judge could actually pronounce the punishment, the

woman’s husband spoke up and asked the judge if he could say

something. The judge said, “What is it?”

The husband said, “She also stole a can of peas.”

HAPPY TUESDAY!