Author Archive : Silvia Violet

I’m thrilled to announce that To Capture A Spy, my steamy, Paris-set, Regency historical is now available in print.

Here’s an excerpt for your reading pleasure:

To Capture A Spy by Silvia Violet

Blurb:
When danger lurks, is courage alone enough to save a country—and a heart?

It’s not enough Meg Wentworth has suffered kidnapping, imprisonment and torture. She kept her wits about her and escaped with her life, only to be captured by a handsome British officer—and promptly accused of spying for the French. Convincing him otherwise turns out to be easier than dealing with her next discovery: that Lucien just might be the man to help her put her life back together. If only he will let go of his rigid control long enough to let her show him they belong together.

Recovering from a near-fatal injury, British intelligence officer Lucien Archer hoped to leave the shadowy, violent world that left him scarred, body and soul. But a mysterious letter calls him back to duty, and nothing prepares him for Meg. The beautiful spy’s fiery spirit threatens to break through the shell Lucien has built around his heart.

But Meg’s kidnapper wasn’t looking for simple ransom. He’s an old enemy of Lucien’s, Le Lézard, who’s resurfaced with a single goal. To raise magical forces dark and powerful enough to destroy England. To do it, blood must flow. The blood of Lucien and Meg.

And the fire of passion that burns between them is the perfect lure to get them both where he wants them. On an altar of sacrifice.

Excerpt:

Meg stood and approached Lucien, trying to move exactly as Fabienne had taught her. “I am so pleased to meet you, Mr. Archer,” she purred, offering her hand to be kissed.

He took her hand and brushed his lips across it, lingering longer than he should. For a few seconds, they stood, looking into each other’s eyes. Then Meg stepped back, breaking the spell, pleased to see she had such an effect on him.

Smiling, he looked at Fabienne. “Are you certain this is the same woman I brought here yesterday?”

“Yes, but the change is amazing, non? She even convinced Therese that she is your current mistress.”

Meg reverted to her normal self. “Fabienne is a wonderful tutor. She is teaching me all the things I ignored in London and making me into the woman I never wanted to be.”

“You play the part of this woman well.”

“Come along.” Fabienne linked arms with Meg, and bid Lucien follow. They walked to the center of the room, where Fabienne positioned them to begin a waltz.

Lucien looked uncomfortable. “I’m no dancing instructor, so you will have to tell me what you expect.”

“Meg explained to me that dancing was never important to her, so she never perfected the skill.”

“I know all the steps, but I never manage to perform them with the grace of other women. I don’t understand it. I can direct a horse with only the pressure of my knees, and I can tiptoe through the brush tracking a rabbit, but when it comes to the subtleties of dancing, I’m lost.”

Fabienne smiled. “Perhaps you’ve never had the correct partner. Lucien is a master of the waltz.” Meg thought she heard a faint sound from Lucien, somewhat like a groan.

Fabienne continued, looking at her. “Don’t think too much about the steps. Let Lucien lead, and your body will follow. Let your mind dwell on that feminine power we discussed. Use your body to attract Lucien as he spins you in the dance.” This time, Meg was certain she heard Lucien groan.

Fabienne crossed to the piano and sat down to play a waltz. On her first try, Meg failed to relax and follow Lucien’s lead. Used to being in charge herself, she wanted to set her own pace and quickly ended up trodding on Lucien’s boots and stopping to apologize.

Lucien looked thoroughly exasperated. “You’re holding on to me like you’re drowning, and I’m the only thing keeping you afloat. Relax. You don’t have to control this. Let go and let your body turn. Follow the music.”

“Step closer to him Meg,” Fabienne added. “You’re an adventurous young woman, not a matron at a country dance. The closer you press together, the easier it is to follow his lead.”

She was more physically aware of Lucien than she wanted to be, but she took a step closer and concentrated on relaxing her posture. She could feel the heat coming from his body. Her nipples hardened as her breasts brushed against his chest.

Fabienne began to play once more. Meg focused on Lucien, trying to forget what her feet were doing and let him sweep her along. He was so strong he could have held her aloft through the whole dance. As she fell into the rhythm of it, she felt as if she were twirling above the ground. For the first time, she was really enjoying a dance, but her close proximity to Lucien made it feel far more erotic than was proper. She began to understand her aunt’s objection to the waltz.

The tempo sped up, and she panicked. Once again she tried to control her steps and lost the proper rhythm. Lucien stopped. “This is not a fight. It’s a dance. You don’t have to control it. Quit trying so damned hard.”

“How can I get it right if I don’t try?” She felt Lucien’s tension where her hand rested on his shoulder. It was like holding on to a rock.

“For the last time, relax!”

How could she relax with him filling her senses so thoroughly? Every time she breathed, she smelled his potent, musky scent.

Fabienne rose from the piano. “Lucien dear, as it turns out, you’re quite an excellent instructor. A few more tries and Meg should be ready to dazzle and amaze her partners tonight. I’m afraid I am going to have to leave you now. I have an engagement tonight myself, and I must get ready.” With that she breezed through the door.

Lucien muttered something vile about her under his breath. “Do you think you can get it right this time?”

“I don’t know why you have to be so nasty about this,” Meg replied. “You’re the one who gave me a single day to completely remake myself.”

“One day is all we can afford. I don’t have time to give dancing lessons when our lives are in danger.”

“I can think of numerous things I’d rather be doing. The very fact that I’m not an accomplished dancer should tell you how much I dislike the activity.”

“You’re the one who wanted to work with me. I can leave now and do this on my own.”

“And you’ll lose the one person who could identify Le Lézard for you.”

“I know the value of that possibility, or you would not be here. We’re going to try this blasted dance again. This time, I am not going to give you any choice but to move as I do.”

He wrapped his arm around her waist and lifted her against his body. Holding her aloft, he began to waltz. He held her as if she weighed nothing, the muscles of his arm rigid against her back. She had no fear he would drop her, but her heartbeat accelerated as he spun. She didn’t think about the movements or about learning to dance. All she thought about was him.

When he stopped, she slid down the length of his body and felt the hard ridge of his shaft. Apparently, he’d also been affected by their closeness.

“Do you understand how to let me lead now?” he asked with a calmness that seemed forced.

“Yes,” she answered breathlessly.

Neither of them moved. She met his gaze and tried to discern his thoughts. Passion was the only thing that showed in his eyes. He released her hand and gripped the back of her neck, pulling her up to meet his lips. The warmth of his mouth felt delicious.

She lifted her arms and combed his hair with her fingers, luxuriating in its thickness and moving deeper to massage his scalp.

This kiss wasn’t fierce like the ones he’d given her at the inn. Instead, he explored her mouth slowly, pressing gently to encourage her to open to him. Warmth gathered slowly at the core of her body, but when he ran his tongue across the roof of her mouth, she felt a stab of desire so strong she tugged on his hair and made him gasp.

He pressed harder against her lips, and she answered the pressure. She sucked on his tongue pulling it into her mouth, trying to get as close to him as she could. Thinking she’d like to stay locked with him forever.

Lucien fought with himself. He knew he should stop, but he wanted Meg as desperately as she apparently wanted him. When her greedy mouth released him, he couldn’t resist the smooth column of her neck.

Purchase To Capture A Spy in Purchase in print or ebook

Learn More about Silvia Violet at her website: http://violet.chaosnet,org

My latest release, To Capture A Spy, is set primarily in Paris. When I first got the idea for this book years ago, I’d been reading about nineteenth-century France for a graduate school class. I lost myself in examining old maps of Paris and reading accounts of English men and women who had visited. I returned to those books and memoirs when I wrote To Capture A Spy and had a blast doing more research. And while I love reading about the Paris of the past, I also love reading recent travel essays or better yet anything connecting Paris and food.

I often imagine myself sipping wine in a Parisian bistro or visiting a cheese shop for the perfect selections for the evenings cheese plate. If you fancy a fantasy trip to Paris, try this recipe for a French dessert classic, Tarte Tatin. If you close your eyes, you just might believe you’re in Paris for real.

Where do you like to go on imaginary vacations?

Our family loves cake. It was one of my youngest’s first words. My children clamber for a spot by the mixer when I’m making a cake, eager to help me mix then indulge in all the batter I’m willing to give them. There’s something so soothing about a good chocolate cake, and I don’t know how anyone can look at a festively-iced cupcake and not feel a little cheered. Cake is comfort. Cake is fun. Cake can be sexy but also full of love. Cake is an escape from whatever is bothering me. And I never get tired of it.

I feel the same way about reading romance. A good romance makes me happy. I feel renewed when I read about love, and I know I’ll feel good at the end when the HEA comes just like when I savor that last scrumptious bite of cake. Both are sweet yet rich and full of excitement. What could be better than reading a delicious romance while eating a piece of cake? So here’s my favorite recipe for chocolate cake.

Devil’s Food Cake

Makes a double layer 8in round cake.

1 cup (2 sticks) of unsalted butter, softened
1/2 cup cocoa powder
1/3 cup boiling water
1.5 cups sugar
2tsp vanilla extract
3 eggs
2 cups cake flour
1/2 tsp baking soda plus a pinch
1/4 tsp salt plus a pinch
2/3 cup milk

*I cut this recipe down from one that made oodles of cake and a few ingredients came out in hard to measure amounts so just measure then add a touch more.

1) Preheat oven to 350 and grease and flour 2 8×2in cake pans.

2) In a medium bowl, add boiling water to cocoa and stir to dissolve. Set aside.

3) In an electric mixer bowl, cream butter and sugar until light and fluffy (3-4 minutes). Beat in vanilla, then eggs one at a time, scraping down sides when necessary.

4) In a medium bowl, stir together flour, baking soda, and salt. Stir milk into cocoa mixture. Alternately add flour and cocoa mixtures to the batter starting and ending with flour.

5) Divide batter between pans. Bake until a toothpick comes out clean – 35-45 minutes. Cool in pans 15 minutes then turn out and cool on racks until completely cool.

Easy Chocolate Frosting

Makes about 3 cups.

3.5 cups confectioner sugar
1 cup cocoa powder
12 Tbsp (1.5 sticks) unsalted butter, softened
1/2 cup milk
2 tsp vanilla

1. Stir sugar and cocoa together in the bowl of an electric mixer.
2) Beat in butter, milk, and vanilla until smooth.

I’m excited to announce next week’s print release of A Persistent Attraction. Come delve into the world of Rhys and Amanda as they search for a villan and succumb to their passion.

Sometimes desire cannot be denied.

Regency Intrigue, Book Two

At first, Amanda Halverston assumes the anonymous extortion letter she’s received is a harmless prank. But the following night she is attacked and nearly killed. Desperate for help in finding her attacker, she turns to the notorious rake she has avoided for the last five months, Rhys Stanton.

Rhys, a confirmed bachelor, hasn’t been able to stop thinking about Amanda ever since he met her while helping her sister uncover a plot to sell young women into prostitution. When the alluring Amanda seeks him out, he offers a bargain. He will help her—in exchange for one chance to seduce her each day.

Despite a wicked desire to explore the heat that crackles between them, Amanda refuses and launches her own search. But the attacker strikes again, and when Rhys is there to save her she decides to accept his shocking proposition.

In the midst of an investigation that could claim their lives, the two begin a dangerous game of passion that could claim their hearts.

Warning: This book contains lusty sex that would make Jane Austen faint, so beware of four-letter words.

Click through for an excerpt:

Rhys flashed one more knee-buckling grin and walked away. Amanda tried not to observe the animal grace of his movements as he made his way through the crowd. His powerful, fluid walk was at odds with his foppish attire. Her sister had warned her there was more to Rhys than his appearance indicated, but she didn’t want to delve into his secrets. If she were wise, she would do her best not to cross his path again after their dance.

Despite her resolve, she could not pry her eyes from him. She watched him halt next to one of the musicians. The man continued to play, never faltering, while he held a brief conversation with Rhys. Rhys handed him something, and he pocketed it when he had a chance. What was he up to?

She turned away, hoping to seek her aunt’s advice on how to manage Rhys’s advances. But Claire had followed her friends to the punch table. A few minutes later, the music ended with a flourish, and Rhys appeared behind her.

When he set his hands around her waist, she pulled away and turned around. “Have you forgotten where you are?”

“Not in the least. I merely intended to guide you onto the dance floor.”

The strains of a waltz floated across the ballroom, and Rhys’s conversation with the musician suddenly made sense. “You bribed them, didn’t you?”

“I made a request and tipped them for their thoughtfulness.”

“I will not waltz with you.”

“Yes, you will.”

“You can return when the next dance begins.”

“What are you afraid of?”

“I am not afraid. I am wary as any young woman should be of a man like you.” Amanda was intensely aware of him. She could still feel the heat of his hands where he’d touched her. How was she going to survive a waltz without letting him know how he affected her?

He took her arm and linked it through his. “Even a rake such as I would not attempt to ravish you on the dance floor.”

Much to her annoyance, his touch sent shivers down her spine. “One waltz. Then you promise to leave me be for the rest of our stay here.”

Rhys smiled. “If that is what you still wish, then I will not plague you again.”

Amanda’s heart pounded as he led her onto the dance floor. The strictures of society dictated that a waltzing couple kept eighteen inches of space between them, but Amanda doubted Rhys left three. He was so close, the warmth of his body radiated against her as if she were naked. His thighs brushed hers as they twirled, and she tried to look anywhere but into his eyes.

As they moved together, she realized Rhys was an excellent dance partner. Most men whose invitations she accepted were arrogant and boorish once they got her on the floor. Even if they showed any skill at dancing, she was too busy trying to discern their true motivations to enjoy herself.

Rhys made his motives clear enough. He wanted to seduce her, but she also knew he would not truly harm her. Mark would kill him if he did. Rhys led so expertly she had only to relax and let him direct her body. She could easily let her world narrow to the strains of the music, his body pressed to hers and the wonderful feeling of flying.

Then she made the mistake of looking up. Their eyes met. Raw hunger was reflected in his gaze. She’d seen lust on men’s faces before, but she’d never expected such primal desire to be directed at her.

She realized with dismay that Rhys had managed to maneuver them so they were standing by the French doors which led to the courtyard. When the music ended, he flashed a wicked smile. “I thought you might enjoy some fresh air.”

Before she could protest, he reached around her, opened the door and practically pushed her through. She took a slow, deliberate breath. “Now I have some fresh air in my lungs. Please return me to my aunt.”

“Your aunt is busy catching up with old friends. Why don’t we take a few minutes to enjoy the cool evening?”

Rhys had made her body come alive while they danced. She was much too vulnerable to be alone with him. “I found the temperature in the ballroom quite pleasant.”

“Really? Then why are you flushed?”

“How rude of you to notice.”

“Not rude, simply honest.”

He walked toward her. She backed up, but a bench caught her behind the knees. She sat down hard, her breath escaping in a whoosh.

Rhys sat beside her and took her hand in his. His thumb stroked her wrist, sending waves of heat straight to her belly. “Why are you afraid of me?”

“I’m not afraid. I’m annoyed. Now unhand me and let me go inside.”

He smiled. “Prove it.”

“Prove what?”

“That you are not afraid.”

“How would I do that?”

“Kiss me.”

“You must be joking.”

But she looked into his eyes and knew he was quite serious. He’d said the words in a light, teasing tone, but his eyes glowed like a predator stalking prey.

She told herself to get up and go inside, but her legs wouldn’t obey. He’d trapped her like a frightened rabbit. A secret part of her wanted to sample what he had to offer.

His lips descended on hers, and she opened to him. For once in her life, she gave herself utterly to a new sensation.

What a glorious sensation it was. The heat of his mouth enveloped her as his tongue sought the recesses of her mouth. Never in her most fevered fantasy had she imagined a kiss could feel so…exotic and sinful.

Instinct took over, and her tongue reached out, sliding across his and seeking entrance to his mouth. He groaned as she traced his lower lip with her tongue. His arms closed around her, pulling her firmly against his hard chest. She shuddered as his hands stroked the naked skin of her shoulders.

Amanda sank her teeth into the soft flesh of his lip, and he growled. His hands slid around to cup her breasts. Bolts of lightning ran through her body.

Then reality crashed like thunder.

Read Amanda’s sister, Cassandra’s story in Regency Intrigue Book 1: A Carnal Agreement, available in print and ebook.

I’ve been a romance reader since well before I had any business perusing the “good parts” of my friend’s mom’s collection of historicals, a collection my friend discovered hidden under her living room sofa. I think we were twelve at the time.

My 8th grade algebra teacher whom I adored caught me reading one of these smuggled tomes. I remember being terrified she’d loose respect for me and give me a long lecture on what was proper reading for a middle schooler. Instead when she saw the cover. she smiled and said, “I read that a few months ago. It’s a good one, isn’t it?” If I wasn’t already a romance addict, I certainly became one on that day.

I read romance, because within those pages, I escape to a fantasy world where happily ever after isn’t just possible, it’s expected. Even knowing this, a good writer can make the twists and turns along the way pull at my emotions, leaving me wondering how the hero and heroine can truly overcome their differences.

I can open a romance and be transported to the past, the future, or an alternate where vampires and werewolves roam the night for real. In real life, I’m not much of an adventurer. Making an untried recipe when I have guests coming to dinner or taking my children on a long car trip without any other adults to assist me is risky enough for me.

When I read a romance, I get to travel along on the adventures of British spies, vampire hunters, and renegade space captains. With the added bonus of watching them fall in love and adding some heat to my day. What a delightful way to escape from the mundane activities of life. I feel fortunate to not only have discovered a great reading pleasure but also to have the chance to create stories of my own which can send others on these journeys.

Available Now: To Capture A Spy by Silvia Violet

When danger lurks, is courage alone enough to save a country—and a heart?

It’s not enough Meg Wentworth has suffered kidnapping, imprisonment and torture. She kept her wits about her and escaped with her life, only to be captured by a handsome British officer—and promptly accused of spying for the French. Convincing him otherwise turns out to be easier than dealing with her next discovery: that Lucien just might be the man to help her put her life back together. If only he will let go of his rigid control long enough to let her show him they belong together.

Recovering from a near-fatal injury, British intelligence officer Lucien Archer hoped to leave the shadowy, violent world that left him scarred, body and soul. But a mysterious letter calls him back to duty, and nothing prepares him for Meg. The beautiful spy’s fiery spirit threatens to break through the shell Lucien has built around his heart.

But Meg’s kidnapper wasn’t looking for simple ransom. He’s an old enemy of Lucien’s, Le Lézard, who’s resurfaced with a single goal. To raise magical forces dark and powerful enough to destroy England. To do it, blood must flow. The blood of Lucien and Meg.

And the fire of passion that burns between them is the perfect lure to get them both where he wants them. On an altar of sacrifice.

Warning:This book contains wickedly delicious sex and words no Regency maiden should know.

Excerpt:
Meg stood and approached Lucien, trying to move exactly as Fabienne had taught her. “I am so pleased to meet you, Mr. Archer,” she purred, offering her hand to be kissed.

He took her hand and brushed his lips across it, lingering longer than he should. For a few seconds, they stood, looking into each other’s eyes. Then Meg stepped back, breaking the spell, pleased to see she had such an effect on him.

Smiling, he looked at Fabienne. “Are you certain this is the same woman I brought here yesterday?”

“Yes, but the change is amazing, non? She even convinced Therese that she is your current mistress.”

Meg reverted to her normal self. “Fabienne is a wonderful tutor. She is teaching me all the things I ignored in London and making me into the woman I never wanted to be.”

“You play the part of this woman well.”

“Come along.” Fabienne linked arms with Meg, and bid Lucien follow. They walked to the center of the room, where Fabienne positioned them to begin a waltz.

Lucien looked uncomfortable. “I’m no dancing instructor, so you will have to tell me what you expect.”

“Meg explained to me that dancing was never important to her, so she never perfected the skill.”

“I know all the steps, but I never manage to perform them with the grace of other women. I don’t understand it. I can direct a horse with only the pressure of my knees, and I can tiptoe through the brush tracking a rabbit, but when it comes to the subtleties of dancing, I’m lost.”

Fabienne smiled. “Perhaps you’ve never had the correct partner. Lucien is a master of the waltz.” Meg thought she heard a faint sound from Lucien, somewhat like a groan.

Fabienne continued, looking at her. “Don’t think too much about the steps. Let Lucien lead, and your body will follow. Let your mind dwell on that feminine power we discussed. Use your body to attract Lucien as he spins you in the dance.” This time, Meg was certain she heard Lucien groan.

Fabienne crossed to the piano and sat down to play a waltz. On her first try, Meg failed to relax and follow Lucien’s lead. Used to being in charge herself, she wanted to set her own pace and quickly ended up trodding on Lucien’s boots and stopping to apologize.

Lucien looked thoroughly exasperated. “You’re holding on to me like you’re drowning, and I’m the only thing keeping you afloat. Relax. You don’t have to control this. Let go and let your body turn. Follow the music.”

“Step closer to him Meg,” Fabienne added. “You’re an adventurous young woman, not a matron at a country dance. The closer you press together, the easier it is to follow his lead.”

She was more physically aware of Lucien than she wanted to be, but she took a step closer and concentrated on relaxing her posture. She could feel the heat coming from his body. Her nipples hardened as her breasts brushed against his chest.

Fabienne began to play once more. Meg focused on Lucien, trying to forget what her feet were doing and let him sweep her along. He was so strong he could have held her aloft through the whole dance. As she fell into the rhythm of it, she felt as if she were twirling above the ground. For the first time, she was really enjoying a dance, but her close proximity to Lucien made it feel far more erotic than was proper. She began to understand her aunt’s objection to the waltz.

The tempo sped up, and she panicked. Once again she tried to control her steps and lost the proper rhythm. Lucien stopped. “This is not a fight. It’s a dance. You don’t have to control it. Quit trying so damned hard.”

“How can I get it right if I don’t try?” She felt Lucien’s tension where her hand rested on his shoulder. It was like holding on to a rock.

“For the last time, relax!”

How could she relax with him filling her senses so thoroughly? Every time she breathed, she smelled his potent, musky scent.

Fabienne rose from the piano. “Lucien dear, as it turns out, you’re quite an excellent instructor. A few more tries and Meg should be ready to dazzle and amaze her partners tonight. I’m afraid I am going to have to leave you now. I have an engagement tonight myself, and I must get ready.” With that she breezed through the door.

Lucien muttered something vile about her under his breath. “Do you think you can get it right this time?”

“I don’t know why you have to be so nasty about this,” Meg replied. “You’re the one who gave me a single day to completely remake myself.”

“One day is all we can afford. I don’t have time to give dancing lessons when our lives are in danger.”

“I can think of numerous things I’d rather be doing. The very fact that I’m not an accomplished dancer should tell you how much I dislike the activity.”

“You’re the one who wanted to work with me. I can leave now and do this on my own.”

“And you’ll lose the one person who could identify Le Lézard for you.”

“I know the value of that possibility, or you would not be here. We’re going to try this blasted dance again. This time, I am not going to give you any choice but to move as I do.”

He wrapped his arm around her waist and lifted her against his body. Holding her aloft, he began to waltz. He held her as if she weighed nothing, the muscles of his arm rigid against her back. She had no fear he would drop her, but her heartbeat accelerated as he spun. She didn’t think about the movements or about learning to dance. All she thought about was him.

When he stopped, she slid down the length of his body and felt the hard ridge of his shaft. Apparently, he’d also been affected by their closeness.

“Do you understand how to let me lead now?” he asked with a calmness that seemed forced.

“Yes,” she answered breathlessly.

Neither of them moved. She met his gaze and tried to discern his thoughts. Passion was the only thing that showed in his eyes. He released her hand and gripped the back of her neck, pulling her up to meet his lips. The warmth of his mouth felt delicious.

She lifted her arms and combed his hair with her fingers, luxuriating in its thickness and moving deeper to massage his scalp.

This kiss wasn’t fierce like the ones he’d given her at the inn. Instead, he explored her mouth slowly, pressing gently to encourage her to open to him. Warmth gathered slowly at the core of her body, but when he ran his tongue across the roof of her mouth, she felt a stab of desire so strong she tugged on his hair and made him gasp.

He pressed harder against her lips, and she answered the pressure. She sucked on his tongue pulling it into her mouth, trying to get as close to him as she could. Thinking she’d like to stay locked with him forever.

Lucien fought with himself. He knew he should stop, but he wanted Meg as desperately as she apparently wanted him. When her greedy mouth released him, he couldn’t resist the smooth column of her neck.

Buy it now!

Spring Fever

By Silvia.Violet on May 9, 2008

I’m woefully behind on my writing goals and I’m even writing this post at the last minute. I find this time of year particularly hard for getting work done. I suppose I have a classic case of spring fever. The weather has been lovely here and there is a constant parade of flowers bursting into bloom. My preschooler exclaims about a new flower every time she walks through the yard.

So instead of settling in to work, I’m taking walks, gardening, setting up playdates at the park, hiking, decorating the driveway with chalk, checking out the local farmer’s market, and planning a wealth of outdoor activities for the next few weeks. I can only hope that as summer heats up I will welcome the refuge of an air-conditioned coffee shop where I can type away in the cool semi-darkness.

I feel pulled in too many directions right now. The sun and the flowers are calling me, my children are young and vibrant and fun and rightfully want my attention, yet stories are spinning in my head wanting to be released onto the page. I’ve been trying (and oh is it a struggle for me) to live in the moment more. For a writer this is especially difficult since developing stories requires us to leave the present and delve into our own mental world. Right now, I’m soaking up the world around me. know there will be moments where more words get written. I must simply imagine for these next few glorious spring weeks that I am soaking up beauty and experience that can blossom into words.


A Persistent Attraction, my second Regency Intrigue book, is now available.

For those of you who have read the first book, A Carnal Agreement, you’ll recognize Rhys and Amanda, the hero and heroine of A Persistent Attraction. And for those of you who haven’t you can jump in right here and learn their full story. Here’s a little more about this erotic, suspenseful, Regency tale…

At first, Amanda Halverston assumes the anonymous extortion letter she’s received is a harmless prank. But the following night she is attacked and nearly killed. Desperate for help in finding her attacker, she turns to the notorious rake she has avoided for the last five months, Rhys Stanton.

Rhys, a confirmed bachelor, hasn’t been able to stop thinking about Amanda ever since he met her while helping her sister uncover a plot to sell young women into prostitution. When the alluring Amanda seeks him out, he offers a bargain. He will help her—in exchange for one chance to seduce her each day.

Despite a wicked desire to explore the heat that crackles between them, Amanda refuses and launches her own search. But the attacker strikes again, and when Rhys is there to save her she decides to accept his shocking proposition.

In the midst of an investigation that could claim their lives, the two begin a dangerous game of passion that could claim their hearts.

Read an excerpt

Do I Have To Write?

By Silvia.Violet on February 1, 2008

I’ve been conducting an experiment for the last few months. I being pulled in far too many directions and feeling ready to snap as the fall came to a close. I’ve got a baby and a preschooler and I want to spend as much time with them as I can. I’ve been married for nearly twelve years, and my husband and I both value our time together. I enjoy cooking and baking and sewing and other domestic pursuits. I’m researching homeschooling as well as other options for kindergarten next year. And of course, I have a writing career that I want to develop.

But something had to give as the holidays approached so I decided to take a two month hiatus from writing. I remembered the months before I got my first writing contract when for the first time since I’d gotten pregnant with my first child, I felt like I had things together. The house was clean. Dinners were homemade. I had time to devote to my husband and my toddler. Was it really so much easier when I wasn’t writing too or was my memory faulty? If I stopped writing for two months would I really get the basement organized and tackle some of the other projects that had been on my to do list for longer than I could remember?

The answer has been a resounding no. Other things pushed in to fill the void in my time and very few projects have been accomplished. But more importantly, I couldn’t step away from writing,. I found myself plotting stories whenever I had enough time to think. Before the first month was out, I’d “cheated” and written a few short stories as well as plot notes for another Regency.

So now I’ve confirmed what I think I already knw. Writing is a part of me. It’s not just a job that I can walk away from me. I have to write. That’s not to say that I’m looking forward to tightening down and setting weekly goals for myself again or adding more tasks to my to do list, but I know that I must. I must write and I must make the time for it.

Writers are frequently asked where we get the ideas for our stories. For some of the books I’ve written, all I can say it that the characters introduced themselves when I was drifting off to sleep and they wouldn’t shut up until I wrote their story. But for many others, I have an answer that makes me sound less insane – country music.

If you met me in person, you probably wouldn’t peg me as a country music fan. I look like someone who’s more likely to be listening to the latest indie rock sensation than Toby Keith. Few of my friends or family members share my appreciation, but oh how I love the mournful sounds of a good, tear-jerking country song. Not only do I find myself singing along to my local country station, no other single source has given me as story ideas.

The opening scene of my erotic Regency, A Carnal Agreement, was inspired by Garth Brooks’s,“Friends in Low Places.” I was listening to the words of the first verse and got to wondering what a similar scene would have looked like in the Regency era. Suddenly, I saw my hero, Mark, giving a drunken toast at the engagement ball of his former lover, and the story took off from there.

This week, I started making notes for a sci fi story. I was contemplating the opening scene while I was driving, and Carrie Underwood’s “Before He Cheats” came on the radio. As I sang along, I suddenly saw my kick-ass heroine sitting in her office when her ex-boyfriend comes storming in, accusing her of wrecking his apartment. She deflects the blows he aims at her, pins him on the ground and tells him he’s lucky that’s all she did.

In the last few weeks, stories have popped into my mind while listening to “Good Directions” by Billy Currington, “Do You Want Fries With That” by Tim McGraw, and “Should Have Been A Cowboy” by Toby Keith. Now if only I could figure out how to add twelve extra hours in the day so I could write all these.