tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24891681462004877472024-03-16T16:51:51.349+11:00LoveCats DownUnderAussie & NZ authors who love category romanceAlly Blakehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17352564320902831489noreply@blogger.comBlogger1872125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2489168146200487747.post-43772048156049440752019-09-18T15:42:00.000+10:002019-09-18T15:44:29.494+10:00Major announcement - Make over time!<h3>
<span style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">Hello to all our aaamazing LoveCat blog readers out there. </span></span></h3>
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<span style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">We LoveCats have been talking a lot the last months about directions, about reaching our beloved followers and the way social media sites have taken over from the humble blog and the need to adapt to the shifting winds. </span></span></h3>
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<span style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"> So..the time has come for a reinvention. </span></span></h3>
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<span style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">As of today, we're moving to a Facebook group. Yes, we opened a FB page a couple of years ago and we'll still be there but we wanted something exclusive and extra special just for our readers. Somewhere we can post the kind of content that we used to post here - from what we're reading to pictures of our pets to the ever popular Sunday Smooch! Somewhere we can interact with you guys in a much more organic way!</span></span></h3>
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<span style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">But...before we go, here are some stats!</span></span></h3>
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<span style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">The LoveCats first launched in the blogosphere on Jan 11th 2010 with the purpose of showcasing category romance through the eyes of some Aussie and NZ authors who were writing it! </span></span></h3>
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<span style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">There were 7 inaugural members! Rachel Bailey, Zana Bell, Emily May, Sharon Archer, Nikki Logan and Tracie Sommers (Tracy O'Hara).</span></span></h3>
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<span style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">Since then there has been - </span></span></h3>
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<span style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">1871 posts and 631 908 page views </span></span></h3>
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<span style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">The most viewed post was <a href="http://lovecatsdownunder.blogspot.com/2013/07/pinch-me.html" target="_blank">this one by Amy Andrews</a> with 22304 pageviews.</span></span></h3>
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<span style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"> </span></span></h3>
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<span style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">The most viewed Sunday Smooch was <a href="http://lovecatsdownunder.blogspot.com/2013/10/sunday-smooch-countering-his-claim.html" target="_blank">this one by Rachel Bailey</a> with 804 page views.</span></span></h3>
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<span style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">And multiple vistors have come from far and wide!</span></span></h3>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-weight: normal;">So, we're all very pleased and proud of what we've created and we hope you've enjoyed your time here at the blog. We also hope you'll join us in our new venture!</span></span></h3>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQqUt4YBee7LdxHsV1huYxXbuO63sR2eSbXgCX_OjuNdLUlojXS4tn1q8W_zDoK1uwLdGTjsCFDJZIT5kYcqWsqEZxRD8X3qyudbA-LQBjyFuuTKfCn3wKCntNrbdnQpiRwLe0THwE-wg/s1600/LCbanner.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="836" data-original-width="1600" height="208" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQqUt4YBee7LdxHsV1huYxXbuO63sR2eSbXgCX_OjuNdLUlojXS4tn1q8W_zDoK1uwLdGTjsCFDJZIT5kYcqWsqEZxRD8X3qyudbA-LQBjyFuuTKfCn3wKCntNrbdnQpiRwLe0THwE-wg/s400/LCbanner.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">Come on on over to <a href="https://www.facebook.com/groups/LoveCatsChat/" target="_blank">the FB group</a> and join us there for fun and laughter and most importantly - category romance!!</span></span></h3>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"> </span>Amy Andrewshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12690419732247281048noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2489168146200487747.post-63252942773700477112019-09-11T00:00:00.000+10:002019-09-11T07:37:55.388+10:00What are you...?<i>What are you…</i><br />
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<span style="color: blue;">Reading?</span> </h4>
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<span style="font-weight: normal;">I have two books on the go at the moment. Annie West’s <i>Sheikh’s Royal Baby Revelation</i> and Ben Aaronovitch’s <i>Moon Over Soho</i>. They’re both absolutely wonderful. I also just finished Joanne Harris’s <i>The Strawberry Thief</i>, which was glorious. I’ve been reading so many fab books this year. :-)</span></h4>
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<span style="color: blue;">Watching?</span></h4>
Nothing new. But I did re-watch <i>Ladies in Black</i> on the weekend. Such a gorgeous movie. I love the character of Magda so much. I might watch it again just in the interests of tracking her character development. :-)<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPkwuevdsnrEt8t7gDS-jkgLyxLlFTLa0hbQsWrwpfTdZIwOjTh-yZQx5rhyphenhyphen1TIsSiYSby0_qyShiFPMW91zW90Nb29evodJiuJU_pfE557gXdurczdbnXy4gCYTi53zdCx6etUIUIPy4U/s1600/Ladies+in+Black.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="640" data-original-width="480" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPkwuevdsnrEt8t7gDS-jkgLyxLlFTLa0hbQsWrwpfTdZIwOjTh-yZQx5rhyphenhyphen1TIsSiYSby0_qyShiFPMW91zW90Nb29evodJiuJU_pfE557gXdurczdbnXy4gCYTi53zdCx6etUIUIPy4U/s320/Ladies+in+Black.jpg" width="240" /></a></div>
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<span style="color: blue;">Listening to?</span></h4>
An earworm! And this one has been hard to shake. When I was in New York—in an elevator no less—Hall & Oates' <i>Kiss is on My List</i> was playing…and it went round and round and round in my head for the rest of my stay. On the plane on the way home, a Best of Hall & Oates playlist was available on the entertainment system. I thought listening to it might shift the song. It did, but only to replace it with <i>Say it Isn’t So</i>. Now I don’t mind the song—and I am a teenager of the 1980s—but enough is enough. Therefore I won't link to the youtube video because I'm guessing you don't need it in your life...but just excuse me while I go and listen to it again.<br />
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<span style="color: blue;">What’s making you smile?</span></h4>
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So many things are making me smile—the rain, the rosellas, my work-in-progress, and my New York Public Library Card! However, my biggest smile is being reserved for my TBR pile. Here’s a sample of what’s up next for me (in no particular order): <br />
* Kate Atkinson’s <i>Big Sky</i> which is the next in the Jackson Brodie series<br />
* <i>A Man Called Ove</i> which is my next book club book<br />
* <i>First Grave on the Right </i>by Darynda Jones (I went to her workshop on humour in New York and really enjoyed it).<br />
* <i>The Flatshare</i> by Beth O’Leary (heard so many good things)<br />
* And Amy Andrews’s <i>Nothing But Trouble</i>. This has been on my Kindle since it released, and I’m dying to get to it. :-)<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg17qyZI80Vr-8lgzMMtajTjJ-owIL84OunEULBqqsE9e_C7EmeIuYyzeyhw2W6RqYCnUNPNv9P0GoyljF0f2YigU3vfZOwKN84Q1wpzBSnQmz4QvcOuo7dGl7pzG-iVxsh2ua9adnfdOGq/s1600/NYPL.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="480" data-original-width="640" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg17qyZI80Vr-8lgzMMtajTjJ-owIL84OunEULBqqsE9e_C7EmeIuYyzeyhw2W6RqYCnUNPNv9P0GoyljF0f2YigU3vfZOwKN84Q1wpzBSnQmz4QvcOuo7dGl7pzG-iVxsh2ua9adnfdOGq/s200/NYPL.jpg" width="200" /></a></div>
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Okay, your turn? What are you reading / watching /listening to, and/or what’s making you smile today?<br />
<br />Michelle Douglashttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07748538761711892080noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2489168146200487747.post-77560126315077022342019-09-09T02:00:00.000+10:002019-09-09T02:00:17.258+10:00Reading Dark<div class="MsoNormal">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimmzCoMoarWypYoG8Yci37NFgob0-nNLliesuDAQE898YbPJXqhkyDoCOGDalCFxI78Kz5Mbd3eUosnLC8cPXlDP2TqmtR9NoW7dVpgpTiKoSPpGXAKAotHdX0yMidJTsK5saPuHlrz20/s1600/The+Milliion+Pound+Marriage+Deal.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="475" data-original-width="300" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimmzCoMoarWypYoG8Yci37NFgob0-nNLliesuDAQE898YbPJXqhkyDoCOGDalCFxI78Kz5Mbd3eUosnLC8cPXlDP2TqmtR9NoW7dVpgpTiKoSPpGXAKAotHdX0yMidJTsK5saPuHlrz20/s200/The+Milliion+Pound+Marriage+Deal.jpg" width="126" /></a><span style="font-family: Calibri;">I love reading romance. I’m
currently reading <i><a href="https://www.amazon.com/Million-Pound-Marriage-Deal/dp/1335135286/ref=sr_1_1?keywords=the+million+pound+marriage+deal&qid=1567935279&s=gateway&sr=8-1" target="_blank">The Million Pound Marriage Deal </a></i>by fellow LoveCat Michelle Douglas and love
it.</span><span style="font-family: Calibri;"> </span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Calibri; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-latin;">Crime is another of my favourite
genres. Michael Connelly and Michael Robotham are two of my go to authors. I
devour everything written by Jane Harper. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Calibri; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-latin;">But, there are some books I just
can’t bring myself to read. I love Stephen King’s book <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">On Writing: A Memoir of the Craft</i>. I’ve read it three times, but I
can’t bring myself to read one of his fiction books. I’m too scared.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Calibri; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-latin;">At the recent Byron Writers
Festival, I listened to Ginger Gorman discuss the world of online trolls and her
incredible journey researching this phenomenon. I immediately purchased <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Troll Hunting </i>and had Ginger sign it<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">.</i>
I’ve picked it up a number of times to read, but just wonder if I can face learning
about the inside world of online hate. I teach Social Media Tactics at
university, so feel it is a book I should read, but do I really want
to know about this world?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Calibri; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-latin;">What about you? Are there genres
of books you can’t read or don’t want to read?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Calibri; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-latin;">I’m heading back to Will and
Sophie’s story and will leave the trolls for now.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
Jennifer St Georgehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15115014191040562984noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2489168146200487747.post-49191707736068342572019-09-06T00:00:00.000+10:002019-09-06T00:00:01.161+10:00Why I LOVE My Footy Team This weekend sees the start of the AFL (Australian Football League) finals.<br />
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And my team - the Collingwood Magpies - are right there in among it. To say our household is nervous, and excited, is an understatement.<br />
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We cannot commit to any events in the next month in case it clashes with anything finals related. Seriously. Birthday parties. Sleepovers. Trips. Holidays. On hold.<br />
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<a href="https://www.abc.net.au/news/image/11442846-3x2-700x467.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="A football player and a coach have a chat." border="0" height="213" src="https://www.abc.net.au/news/image/11442846-3x2-700x467.jpg" width="320" /></a>One of the reasons why this club is important to us is history. My husband's family have long, deep connection to the club, with his great grandfather playing and working for them as accountant and piano player. My son has been a member since 2 years before he was born (that's another story ;).)<br />
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Another reason we love them so was showcased beautifully in a wonderful documentary played on the ABC this week - <a href="https://iview.abc.net.au/show/collingwood-from-the-inside-out" target="_blank"><b>Collingwood: From the Inside Out</b></a> - all about my teams's 2017/2018 seasons. During that time they went from being an hour away from firing their coach at the end of 2017 after six years of depleting success, and deteriorating club culture, to a turnaround rarely seen in such a big business, with the club coming withing two minutes of winning last year's Grand Final.<br />
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It was a dream year. A fairy tale. Spring from a decision. To do better. To be better. Not just as administrators, but as men.<br />
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The doco highlights what we, as fans, as believers, saw happen week by week; a football club becoming a bastion for kindness, for openness, for tears, for hugs, for opening up about struggles, for love. Yes, love. Love is a word the coach, the players, throw around constantly. These men. These warriors. These humans under an intense spotlight. Above and beyond any wins, losses stats - they love one another.<br />
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The doco is a story of love, of redemption, of young men being open about anxiety, about identity, about wanting not just to be football stars but well-rounded humans.<br />
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Win or lose, we are Collingwood Magpies, and so very proud of it.<br />
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...<br />
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Do you have a sports team you LOVE? A sports star who you think is a true role model? <br />
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Watch the documentary here: <a href="https://iview.abc.net.au/show/collingwood-from-the-inside-out">https://iview.abc.net.au/show/collingwood-from-the-inside-out</a><br />
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Photos courtesy ABC: <a href="https://www.abc.net.au/news/2019-09-02/afl-documentary-collingwood-from-the-inside-out-mental-health/11452884">https://www.abc.net.au/news/2019-09-02/afl-documentary-collingwood-from-the-inside-out-mental-health/11452884</a>Ally Blakehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17352564320902831489noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2489168146200487747.post-77355720641702569602019-09-04T05:00:00.000+10:002019-09-04T05:00:01.295+10:00It's beginning to feel a lot like Christmas...For real.<div style="text-align: justify;">
It occurs to me that there are two types of people in the world. People who deck the halls with boughs of holly come December, and people who play Christmas carols all year 'round.</div>
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I am most definitely the latter.</div>
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When it comes to Christmas, I can literally never get enough, but I feel a little (tiny bit) guilty listening to carols in the first quarter of the year, so I'm not quite as 'loud and proud'. In March, I don't blare Jingle Bells at school pick up, for example, with the sunroof open and the windows down - even though it's tempting. But guys, it's SEPTEMBER. We are officially on the downhill run to Christmas which makes every little bit of festivity completely legit from here on in.</div>
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So herewith my list of the best ways to get into the Christmas spirit over the next 111 days.</div>
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1. Christmas Carols. Even the most hardcore grinch can't help but feel all festive and gooey when Christmas carols are afoot. My favourite? <a href="http://www.dianakrall.com/news/diana-kralls-classic-holiday-album-christmas-songs-featuring-claytonhamilton-jazz-orchestra" target="_blank">Diana Krall.</a></div>
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2. Soak your Christmas fruits ready for the cake and fruit mince pies. Buy premium Australian fruit and rum and breathe in all those spices.</div>
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3. Make a list of Christmas gifts. Being organised cuts down last-minute panic and it's so much fun to start planning! If you want to arrange bespoke gifts (custom, matching t-shirts? Hanna Andersson PJs for the fam bam? We have <a href="https://www.hannaandersson.com/family-matching-pjs-dear-deer/" target="_blank">these ones...</a>) now's the time to order and make sure they arrive in time.</div>
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4. Festive Reads. October is when Christmas books start to be released but if you can't wait another month, never fear. Last year's Christmas books are already out there just waiting to be enjoyed. Hurrah!</div>
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5. Get yourself a truly great Christmas candle and burn it, baby! <a href="https://livingbydesign.net.au/products/soh-soy-wax-candle-st-nicholas?utm_medium=cpc&utm_source=google&utm_campaign=Google%20Shopping&gclid=CjwKCAjwnrjrBRAMEiwAXsCc41tvSLrvMy7NdFkGGQqWycza7BiaD8ASDPEJ1cN9Ol7REbI9bvKufxoC0LoQAvD_BwE" target="_blank">I love this one</a>.</div>
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6. Plan your Christmas day menu. If you're not hosting, work out what you can make to take wherever you're going. Or just to eat on your own while you watch CHRISTMAS MOVIES (point 16).</div>
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7. Grab whichever small person you can get your hands on and COVER THEM in green and red for as long as possible. (Not literally cover. They need to breathe, obviously. But give them all the festive. They're too young to object. Besides, they'll love it. Really, I promise.) This works for pets too.</div>
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8. Every year, in early December, I have a Succulent Wreath Making day for a group of girlfriends. There's prosecco and (naturally) Christmas carols and we spend a few hours around a table making wreaths. It's a lot of fun and I can't imagine a year without it.</div>
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9. We also do gingerbread houses every year! The first time it was a bit intimidating but now we have it down to a fine art. Persist! It's so much fun and they make great gifts.</div>
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These are teeny, tiny gingerbread houses which you can make with the leftover cookie dough. These ones fit tea light candles and when they're burning they smell divine. Just make sure they're not too small or they'll catch fire and turn your bread into toast ;)</div>
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10. More on point 7. Little people are great victims errr models for hand-made outfits! I used to make overalls for my kids - shopping for the Christmas fabrics was always a highlight. FYI the seasonal fabrics usually start to get released in September so that further validates my early-Christmas fever.</div>
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11. Paperboat Press! This is one of my most treasured traditions. The <a href="https://paperboatpress.bigcartel.com/" target="_blank">gorgeous, artisanal store in Queensland</a> makes the most beautiful ceramics, including gorgeous custom Christmas stars (and even doggy bones - I'm looking at you, Rachel Dr Love Bailey!).</div>
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12. Okay. I'll willingly admit this next one might be a bit OTT but now that I've started the tradition I can't stop! We have a cutout picture board and each year the kids and I paint something new on it. Then we make (errr invite) all the family to pose for piccies. Pro tip, we re-use the board for Easter so it's really the gift that keeps on giving. Always add the year so you can montage the pics for later enjoyment. ;)</div>
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13. Paint all your stemware, all your ceramics! Okay, not *all*. But this is so much fun. Ceramic paints are available at any good craft store and you can decorate them however you want, set them in the oven and enjoy. In my experience, the paint doesn't last long so you'll more than likely get your glasses back eventually (but why would you want boring transparency when you can have the pleasure of drinking through a wreath-decorated glass all year 'round?).</div>
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14. Bake, bake, bake! This one's best saved until the week before Christmas. ;) Pudding. Cake. Fruit mince pies. Custard. All the things! Ideally in a Christmas themed apron.</div>
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15. And the big one. The tree. I used to put the tree up at the end of September (don't knock it until you've tried it - it's way too much effort for just a few weeks). But over the years we've acquired new family members and one of them has his birthday on the 31st of October so we wait until his birthday's been and gone before putting up the tree. But every year on November 1 it is officially tree day in our family! If you're one of those people who waits until the week before to get decorating, allow me to challenge you to try it my way this year. I really don't think you'll regret it. </div>
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16. Christmas movies!! There are so many amazing ones to enjoy but my top four, the movies I can't miss or it doesn't feel like Christmas, are: Die Hard (the first one). Love Actually. Arthur Christmas and Home Alone. </div>
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What about you? Tell me you're a Christmas-a-holic like I am? How do you celebrate the season? What are your favourite traditions!? </div>
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This is Clare Connelly signing off and wishing you a very Merry Christmas (for the first, but definitely not last, time for 2019!). xx</div>
Clare Connellyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01284821138196684053noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2489168146200487747.post-33669056051273202232019-09-01T00:00:00.000+10:002019-09-01T00:00:04.379+10:00Winner of Last Sunday's Smooch Giveaway from Annie West<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
Hi everyone! Annie West here with the results of the draw from last week's <b>SUNDAY SMOOCH GIVEAWAY</b>. The <span style="color: red;"><b>WINNER</b></span> of a signed copy of 'Sheikh's Royal Baby Revelation' is <span style="color: red;"><b>BLUEBELLINA!</b></span> <b>Congratulations.</b></div>
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Bluebellina, if you could contact me at annie(at)annie-west.com with your postal details I'll post your prize.</div>
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To everyone else, thank you for your interest. Look out for more Sunday Smooches and chances to win in future.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLC5DQ-X-nGFm8N-vEJGzq7bcUh9Lul-eQqr6KJSA7t-3RD5h_s4my2Ixtim8FN5QNHtb5coKl_c7d4lFsXGN_zaGAnnf6HQ5mA7Khv69Bs3P8oANpUxY7QKfS9D8oDFLA9zlFBPtNSLwn/s1600/Sheikh%2527s+Royal+Baby+Revelation.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1011" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLC5DQ-X-nGFm8N-vEJGzq7bcUh9Lul-eQqr6KJSA7t-3RD5h_s4my2Ixtim8FN5QNHtb5coKl_c7d4lFsXGN_zaGAnnf6HQ5mA7Khv69Bs3P8oANpUxY7QKfS9D8oDFLA9zlFBPtNSLwn/s320/Sheikh%2527s+Royal+Baby+Revelation.jpg" width="202" /></a></div>
<br />Annie Westhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16804740491737358014noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2489168146200487747.post-10045094885216933272019-08-25T00:00:00.000+10:002019-08-25T17:04:49.988+10:00Sunday Smooch - Sheikh's Royal Baby Revelation by Annie West<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Welcome to another <span style="color: blue;"><span style="font-weight: bold;">LoveCats DownUnder Sunday Smooch</span>! </span><span style="color: blue;">Today we have a smooch from Annie West.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="color: blue;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="color: blue;">But first, the WINNER of last week's Sunday Smooch giveaway is JM BARTON! Congratulations. To claim your prize, please contact Clare at Clareconnelly@outlook.com</span></span><br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWvwknO6zDsSshwh1LN6VGHMzL2f7m3Ys8DFCJpjWitZDpZgYo5sjgt1jS2VfTD2kmcV4ftsD-YnKDI6bzuJXy8nrBfx8fDXai9puGg-RLi17PynyLSeXQgvMjcTM4EwDHeKFzxC-zMTU/s1600/SundaySmooch.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; display: inline !important; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWvwknO6zDsSshwh1LN6VGHMzL2f7m3Ys8DFCJpjWitZDpZgYo5sjgt1jS2VfTD2kmcV4ftsD-YnKDI6bzuJXy8nrBfx8fDXai9puGg-RLi17PynyLSeXQgvMjcTM4EwDHeKFzxC-zMTU/s1600/SundaySmooch.JPG" /></span></a><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-_wer0aIKA0dZ7qVge8MCPMekIm-BpCOo8zfntT3LRPRDi-ZwkUCOdGuDr8XTtsXeHfIbT7C3XZG6uHv973V-q9hy2QzZN9YPFcnLut-GY9EzVngVBZOaoBslB6N1odaHYy7RF3qz6u8F/s1600/Sheikh%2527s+Royal+Baby+Revelation.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1011" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-_wer0aIKA0dZ7qVge8MCPMekIm-BpCOo8zfntT3LRPRDi-ZwkUCOdGuDr8XTtsXeHfIbT7C3XZG6uHv973V-q9hy2QzZN9YPFcnLut-GY9EzVngVBZOaoBslB6N1odaHYy7RF3qz6u8F/s320/Sheikh%2527s+Royal+Baby+Revelation.jpg" width="202" /></a></div>
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<strong style="background-color: #fcf9f1; border: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-size: 15px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"><em style="border: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Desert captives for one night</span></em></strong><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br style="background-color: #fcf9f1; box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-size: 15px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;" /></span>
<em style="background-color: #fcf9f1; border: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; color: #222222; font-size: 15px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="border: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">Bound forever by their unexpected baby</span></em><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br style="background-color: #fcf9f1; box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-size: 15px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;" /></span>
<span style="background-color: #fcf9f1; border: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 15px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">When desert prince Ashraf was kidnapped alongside geologist Tori, their desperation to escape their life-threatening situation led to a moment of passionate oblivion. Rescued the next day, Ash was never able to discover Tori’s fate. He’s finally found her… But in their time apart, Tori has had his son! And now Ash will stop at nothing to claim them both!</span><br />
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<span style="color: blue;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><i>Scene set-up</i></span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">One night stranded with a stranger in fear for their lives, drove Tori and Ash together, only to be parted the next morning. Now, more than a year later, Ash has found her again and discovered she's had his child. Determined to acknowledge his son and provide for the feisty yet sometimes fragile woman who attracts him as no other, Ash, now Sheikh Ashraf, suggests a marriage of convenience and invites her to his homeland. Tori, determined her son with know both his parents, reluctantly agrees, but is determined to resist capitulating and entering a loveless marriage.</span><br />
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<span style="color: blue;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><i>Smooch -</i></span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Ashraf scooped her closer, his hard frame
solid muscle against her wet body. Tori clung tight, one hand clutching his
robe, the other slipping from his grasp to slide up the back of his neck.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">She heard a muffled grunt of approval as her
fingers channelled through thick hair to splay possessively over the back of
his head. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Tori’s tongue danced with his, hunger
cresting as she went up on her toes, trying to meld herself to him. His taste,
his scent, his mouth were achingly familiar, as if it was just a few days since
they’d made love. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Had they kissed like this in the desert?
Surely not. Then they’d been strangers. Ashraf didn’t feel like a stranger now.
Remarkable to think they’d been together for such a short time, for it seemed
they knew each other at some deep level beyond words. He was the man who filled
her thoughts and dreams. Who had done so since that night together. He was the
one man who’d woken her dormant libido after the rigours and exhaustion of
pregnancy and motherhood. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">The man she needed as she’d never before
needed anyone. The realisation made her freeze in his embrace. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Instantly he lifted his head, eyes glinting like
black gems as they searched her face. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Tori heard the stertorous rasp of heavy
breathing, felt her lungs heave and the push of his chest against her breasts
as he too hauled in oxygen. Reaction juddered down her backbone and quivered
across her skin. Being so close to him, touching him, undid her carefully
cultivated caution. It allowed something wild inside her to take hold.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">The air was smoky with desire, thick and
scented with arousal. Yet the unspoken question was clear in Ashraf’s
expression. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Did she want to stop?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Emotion swelled. As strong even as the desire
emblazoned in her bones. Tenderness for this man who put her needs before his
own. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Tori shivered at the enormity of her feelings.
Yet she shied from investigating them too closely. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Ashraf straightened and pulled away. He’d
misread her.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">‘No!’ She fastened both hands on his
shoulders, fingers digging into fine cotton, pads of muscle and beneath that,
implacable bone. ‘Don’t.’<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">‘Don’t kiss you, or—?’<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">‘Don’t stop.’<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Yet instead of closing the gap Ashraf
surveyed her as if he felt none of her urgency. Only the flare of his nostrils
betrayed he’d been affected too.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">‘So there’s at least one thing about me you
approve of.’ <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">He wanted to talk? Frustration surged and
suspicion.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">‘Are you fishing for compliments?’<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">She spied a flicker of movement at the corner
of his mouth and a tingle of delight teased her.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt;"> ‘No. But I’ll take any you
want to throw my way.’ His lips firmed. ‘You’re not a woman easily swept off
her feet, Victoria Miranda Nilsson.’</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="color: blue;"></span></span><br /></span>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhscYxlAYiKHRg4sVDtmdtcxRP_VKz3V7O8RWDE9EZM7Shpfp2VBh6hNVcxEvE8nxhq6jZLNn5PQWAOKzBVc4Q5hWYzhuJkMIykUWvZJHxx4z5s4YxRFl7f5cLQMfe02amQVLr4sFshsaeO/s1600/headshotsmall.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><img border="0" data-original-height="262" data-original-width="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhscYxlAYiKHRg4sVDtmdtcxRP_VKz3V7O8RWDE9EZM7Shpfp2VBh6hNVcxEvE8nxhq6jZLNn5PQWAOKzBVc4Q5hWYzhuJkMIykUWvZJHxx4z5s4YxRFl7f5cLQMfe02amQVLr4sFshsaeO/s1600/headshotsmall.jpg" /></span></a></div>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="color: blue; font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">I do hope you enjoy SHEIKH'S ROYAL BABY REVELATION! Leave a comment on this post to go in the draw to win a an autographed copy (no geographic restrictions).</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="color: blue;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="color: blue;">In this story Tori is a geologist who'd been to the desert doing a survey for a mining company. It's a profession that's still male dominated and I enjoyed writing about a competent woman in that field. What occupation would you like to see for a romance heroine, or hero for that matter?</span></span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="color: blue; font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="color: blue; font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">By the way, this is book 1 in my 'Royal Brides for Desert Brothers' miniseries. It's a standalone story, but if you'd like to find out what happens to Ashraf's brother, Karim, look out for DEMANDING HIS DESERT QUEEN. </span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Come back next Sunday, when the winner of today's giveaway will be announced and another smooch will be posted!</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: x-small;"><i>Smooch Graphic by <a href="http://www.webweaver.nu/clipart/people/mouths/" target="_blank">WebWeaver</a></i></span></span>Annie Westhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16804740491737358014noreply@blogger.com21tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2489168146200487747.post-19098268660750927112019-08-21T00:00:00.000+10:002019-08-21T00:00:03.991+10:00Writer Conferences, Why I Love Them. Annie West<div class="MsoNormal">
Every year I attend the Romance Writers of Australia Conference
in August. This year was my twentieth year! So to mark the occasion, and while
I’m still buoyant with energy and enthusiasm after attending the 2019 Melbourne
Conference, let me share just a few of the reasons I love this event. This isn’t
a complete list! (Note, rather than post from this year’s event I’ve gone back to
the vaults to find photos from previous years).<o:p></o:p></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Sunny Queensland in winter</td></tr>
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<!--[if !supportLists]-->1.<span style="font-size: 7pt; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal;"> </span>Travelling away from home. There’s nothing like
actually getting away from the day to day routine to make you feel rejuvenated.
And in winter especially, there’s something about the lure of a beach, or a
vibrant city, that appeals. Because of RWA I finally got to Western Australia –
somewhere I’d been meaning to visit for ages.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiuRvp0TK1968xVaD40jcg6N420ztcJZaX2Bzh3CJO-NaKiueMpje_GzA1MnwDim6I4HxaD0lnTJtJ8aCI8NhpR2lDNeBb4uWWA_xRoF0KbT2OaLCIcw96k8Oxrrkv3VPSKgt-4t1MHjRZS/s1600/with+Helen+B+Harl+lunch06.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="640" data-original-width="480" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiuRvp0TK1968xVaD40jcg6N420ztcJZaX2Bzh3CJO-NaKiueMpje_GzA1MnwDim6I4HxaD0lnTJtJ8aCI8NhpR2lDNeBb4uWWA_xRoF0KbT2OaLCIcw96k8Oxrrkv3VPSKgt-4t1MHjRZS/s320/with+Helen+B+Harl+lunch06.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">With the wonderful Helen Bianchin</td></tr>
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<!--[if !supportLists]-->2.<span style="font-size: 7pt; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal;">
</span><!--[endif]-->The warm welcome. I have fond memories of the
year I’d sold my first book to Harlequin Mills and Boon and attended a lunch
put on by the company for its writers. That was a thrill, but most especially there
was the joy of receiving an ‘award’ (a comic item I still treasure) from the
established authors. It was presented to me by the lovely Helen Bianchin and I
couldn’t quite believe I was in such exalted company.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWOcn2hpuo4Ckjbo-Miwinaoc0xuvUmK5A_XUCZ3jebzvjH4RVKX2_APb47oGanRBB5GC1gLREgv-O2e7QPLamu0ZJ0Etujj8ttY9C9j4eC15fhmiqRthlSqosPrXaYtAgP5WsC0OS4kql/s1600/first+sales.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="480" data-original-width="640" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWOcn2hpuo4Ckjbo-Miwinaoc0xuvUmK5A_XUCZ3jebzvjH4RVKX2_APb47oGanRBB5GC1gLREgv-O2e7QPLamu0ZJ0Etujj8ttY9C9j4eC15fhmiqRthlSqosPrXaYtAgP5WsC0OS4kql/s320/first+sales.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: 12.8px;">First sale celebrations with Elisabeth Rose, Alison Stuart, Anna Campbell and Fiona Lowe</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<!--[if !supportLists]-->3.<span style="font-size: 7pt; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal;">
</span><!--[endif]-->The way everyone celebrates when a writer
finally achieves their dream of publication. Here I am with some authors
celebrating their first sale. It was a while ago now but you may recognise some
of the faces. <o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3qSE8oXWfC9EAbcMDO06RTWkCjybsTZYu5m968piV8r5pFGggsHGB09Toy0b8imdes7lqIlJA_n1Lbag6G6PhPlrqo-04pHmsl3_2-Ed5LGaaX30lQ8Ot3NSYNefOAvl2kn_cnn0FH9FV/s1600/%2521cid_75827D18-BFE3-4EDD-B57A-B11291DA894D%2540home.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="396" data-original-width="393" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3qSE8oXWfC9EAbcMDO06RTWkCjybsTZYu5m968piV8r5pFGggsHGB09Toy0b8imdes7lqIlJA_n1Lbag6G6PhPlrqo-04pHmsl3_2-Ed5LGaaX30lQ8Ot3NSYNefOAvl2kn_cnn0FH9FV/s320/%2521cid_75827D18-BFE3-4EDD-B57A-B11291DA894D%2540home.jpg" width="317" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">1920s themed cocktail party</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<!--[if !supportLists]-->4.<span style="font-size: 7pt; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal;">
</span><!--[endif]-->There are plenty of chances to have fun and to
dress up, including at the themed cocktail parties.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixlBWnBi-WhXcTbLBXU2Nu8Eevs20DIzqdcMUBywkZz9bOZuIMUhnEmb_CHDkEtwjq-VLrziR3iX6EjQ5fxPArXypSLiNE4W2ItPiWarIjVx3WksO2ySseQMUbUiPApEhhH_n-WjwvsYY_/s1600/IMG_4532.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixlBWnBi-WhXcTbLBXU2Nu8Eevs20DIzqdcMUBywkZz9bOZuIMUhnEmb_CHDkEtwjq-VLrziR3iX6EjQ5fxPArXypSLiNE4W2ItPiWarIjVx3WksO2ySseQMUbUiPApEhhH_n-WjwvsYY_/s320/IMG_4532.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Living the good life</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<!--[if !supportLists]-->5.<span style="font-size: 7pt; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal;">
</span><!--[endif]-->Conference time means no cooking or cleaning.
Sometimes it even means room service with your feet up, listening to the waves
rolling in on the beach!<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOlW7ing02cRPn1Dg1C2w_YNywMHhjDaYoS1jBxx_ZNEJkHmTZD8yEOrTshiNTerts6Y12j6ntst5RByLF6eRSZ6LkeebjOfvnV5hH4L4iv11jiE2JR4a_nXifwaXJHvcv7wlLjPmvtb4p/s1600/P8170233.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="360" data-original-width="480" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOlW7ing02cRPn1Dg1C2w_YNywMHhjDaYoS1jBxx_ZNEJkHmTZD8yEOrTshiNTerts6Y12j6ntst5RByLF6eRSZ6LkeebjOfvnV5hH4L4iv11jiE2JR4a_nXifwaXJHvcv7wlLjPmvtb4p/s320/P8170233.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Booksigning with the lovely Helene Young</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<!--[if !supportLists]-->6.<span style="font-size: 7pt; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal;">
</span><!--[endif]-->You get to sit with terrific writers, whether at
a booksigning or participating in a workshop or listening to a panel
discussion. It’s a great way to pick up information and make friends. I always
come away from conferences feeling like I’ve learned something new or learned
to look at something I do/or don’t do from a new perspective.</div>
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<br /></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjouOkCUufcb9YtKGRNb58IUbV6F1_8itWygNoaCjL9ChB89D0JHB27XsAP5ODb0ooGOaS6sH_9gcz2g8v7c239w5QLFvpfAC_4OPtf-0H3h1s1HVPK8UAjovDyu8IHoulObwhQ0Gj-f6QX/s1600/Awards+night.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="720" data-original-width="540" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjouOkCUufcb9YtKGRNb58IUbV6F1_8itWygNoaCjL9ChB89D0JHB27XsAP5ODb0ooGOaS6sH_9gcz2g8v7c239w5QLFvpfAC_4OPtf-0H3h1s1HVPK8UAjovDyu8IHoulObwhQ0Gj-f6QX/s320/Awards+night.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Winning the Romantic Book of the Year!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<!--[if !supportLists]-->7.<span style="font-size: 7pt; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal;"> </span>Saturday Awards Night! I’ve included a photo of
me here where the grin says it all. But whether you’re in the running for an
award or not, it’s wonderful seeing the many writers who’ve made the effort to
enter writing contests, to see the names of finalists and share their excitement,
and of course, share the buzz of a win with all those winners. <o:p></o:p></div>
<br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiffblqxozzdEpBiyccXzv1k-FHPZSmKaxRRisyU-urJknXscviBxOCjRINOqRycAUlMRGagZKM4v-QrPjuQfh891ZomKRXh7do5hf3QHTiV1xzIBpMOdWr5mMJouHE8ZJXn4kxKEKvmn2E/s1600/IMG_20180818_200606.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiffblqxozzdEpBiyccXzv1k-FHPZSmKaxRRisyU-urJknXscviBxOCjRINOqRycAUlMRGagZKM4v-QrPjuQfh891ZomKRXh7do5hf3QHTiV1xzIBpMOdWr5mMJouHE8ZJXn4kxKEKvmn2E/s320/IMG_20180818_200606.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">LoveCats rule - Rachel Bailey, Amy Andrews and Bronwyn Jameson<br /><div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-size: small; text-indent: -24px;">It's also a fabulous chance to catch up with other LoveCats! It's often the only chance we have to meet as we live so far away. The smiles and laughter are infectious. </span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-size: small; text-indent: -24px;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-size: small; text-indent: -24px;">I have to add the conference provides great inspiration. Anyone picking up my new book (Sheikh’s Royal Baby Revelation) will see a dedication to a number of women who were at last year’s RWAustralia conference. I was in the middle of writing that book and had come to a crossroads, not quite sure what direction to take. Thanks to a late night discussion with a number of wonderful authors (including some LoveCats) I went away brimming with ideas.</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCzRTQt-sCdwM4cREaaAJhXeidxfgsIxMIy1SR3oVH0nkW8Ll5JvrSNrWVjAOLtaKWJ9sx_e9V7Pb2i1YfH6QnwT0m6HsrrcH24Bx461mmyAzPA3DYhva6QGpbdKYMkGJiGsMqKrMjAO4w/s1600/Aus.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="500" data-original-width="318" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCzRTQt-sCdwM4cREaaAJhXeidxfgsIxMIy1SR3oVH0nkW8Ll5JvrSNrWVjAOLtaKWJ9sx_e9V7Pb2i1YfH6QnwT0m6HsrrcH24Bx461mmyAzPA3DYhva6QGpbdKYMkGJiGsMqKrMjAO4w/s200/Aus.jpg" width="126" /></a></div>
</td></tr>
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<!--[if !supportLists]-->8.<span style="font-size: 7pt; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal;"> </span><span style="text-indent: -18pt;">For me this writers’ conference is an essential part of my
year. I get to catch up with people who understand my love of story telling and
of romance in particular. I get to commiserate and celebrate with them, to
learn new things and feel like I’m part of a strong, vibrant community of
talented women.</span></div>
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<i><b>Do you have an event
or group that you’d never miss? Something that makes you feel good and
connected to people with similar interests?<o:p></o:p></b></i></div>
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Annie Westhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16804740491737358014noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2489168146200487747.post-22760356035316863972019-08-14T08:45:00.000+10:002019-08-14T12:31:20.742+10:00New York adventures<br />
If you follow my author page on Facebook then you’d have seen ALL the pictures I posted of my recent jaunt to Singapore and New York, and have heard some of the silly stories I told of our travels. <br />
<br />
Like the time the New York Subway played a practical joke on Mr Douglas and me—it let him on, but not me. He stood on the train while I stood on the platform, and we waved forlornly to each other as the train pulled out. [We caught up with each other 15 mins later so don’t feel bad for me. It was, actually, hilarious.]<br />
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But I thought I’d share another “funny” story today.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3DAloXISG5KLaY3-tr54tqFGYiTgmIrEpr2KG0JM5r8Ez9HYp86RDeddDM-Xngrubge6yPfUHbSKw-mOGW-Q5BmO676b0RGdnJcH0fagMRUUSjfXMyNz-h8XClDN-NZUdDfUounYef_4m/s1600/Church.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="640" data-original-width="480" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3DAloXISG5KLaY3-tr54tqFGYiTgmIrEpr2KG0JM5r8Ez9HYp86RDeddDM-Xngrubge6yPfUHbSKw-mOGW-Q5BmO676b0RGdnJcH0fagMRUUSjfXMyNz-h8XClDN-NZUdDfUounYef_4m/s320/Church.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">St Francis Assisi Church--sweet, right?</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
For our first week in New York we stayed in a hotel called The Stewart. It’s across the road from Madison Square Gardens—so…pretty central. ;-) We had a view onto 31st Street and a very sweet little church, but also a view onto the building behind us. I took a peek out of this back window not long after we arrived, and the rooms in this neighbouring building were dark, with no movement, but there were figures in beds. I thought: <i>Oh, it’s a nursing home. How deserted it looks…and lonely</i>.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhST_wXEgvAr5T-xU4OY5L3vjUEtBLJfp4ORnr1ZP2ZyiARGwgK9nTu3PCgx2IYTv-tnmaVSvk98KPxki27oSrI7iL0jJJ3XExTmnU1qrvI865ENr2espupZSEMxEA9_-xOLnJlx6S7y5gB/s1600/Tree+and+water+tower.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="640" data-original-width="480" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhST_wXEgvAr5T-xU4OY5L3vjUEtBLJfp4ORnr1ZP2ZyiARGwgK9nTu3PCgx2IYTv-tnmaVSvk98KPxki27oSrI7iL0jJJ3XExTmnU1qrvI865ENr2espupZSEMxEA9_-xOLnJlx6S7y5gB/s320/Tree+and+water+tower.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Next to the church was a building with a tree! And look up...there's a water tower. </td></tr>
</tbody></table>
In the wee small hours of the night—when it felt like it should’ve been day…and I was really hungry because it should’ve been day (there’s a 12 hour time difference between Singapore and New York, so the good news is you don’t have to change the time on your watch), I couldn’t help thinking about those lonely figures in those dark little rooms. <br />
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When we finally allowed ourselves to play wake ups in the morning, I said to Mr Douglas, “Do you know we’re overlooking a scene of human misery?” I told him about the scene that would greet him from our back window. I wondered aloud if we could go visit because…you know, we’re on holiday and had the time etc. <br />
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Of course, he then had to go and peek out the window too (I’m the window peeker in our relationship, him not so much). And he started to laugh!<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAf86zVnWZG7Xr4PD9gIlg6ZoddeTpnHL6z5WqD908QgB1equKx5flbeWrmhCaEI4p7BsJGaQjSWAmXHARYI7gueQVRrBW0vQHC1z_yqdZQKJezI2sHsEeo8q5mUrWnAi5wSEXrCiph7Sl/s1600/Mannequins5.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="640" data-original-width="480" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAf86zVnWZG7Xr4PD9gIlg6ZoddeTpnHL6z5WqD908QgB1equKx5flbeWrmhCaEI4p7BsJGaQjSWAmXHARYI7gueQVRrBW0vQHC1z_yqdZQKJezI2sHsEeo8q5mUrWnAi5wSEXrCiph7Sl/s320/Mannequins5.jpg" width="240" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwIY-TcV8MauCmWXMntw5mtvZpnBhUJ_W4fjQ1IhULgaTVZQkymKf4R_xOgHBNT618ezfTrxxIO4cDA70XvBd8U9ARDyxi4WvUjTqX2hgz8jN3UhIxOH_12iQVAAYTW85xc5zipSG2q-hD/s1600/Mannequins3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="640" data-original-width="480" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwIY-TcV8MauCmWXMntw5mtvZpnBhUJ_W4fjQ1IhULgaTVZQkymKf4R_xOgHBNT618ezfTrxxIO4cDA70XvBd8U9ARDyxi4WvUjTqX2hgz8jN3UhIxOH_12iQVAAYTW85xc5zipSG2q-hD/s320/Mannequins3.jpg" width="240" /></a></div>
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Dear reader, he’s not a callous man. But I was shocked, I tell you—shocked! Until he revealed all. They weren’t incapacitated people in lonely beds in dark rooms but mannequins. We were looking into a medical training facility!<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTmiHBypnxRci4wRtGw838thBUISCQ8et8vLUpb8-v2U6PUc0HFu149p__GcsFmgkhMubyvvlzfa8qcTQGCwHiY0tQaYIa0yMvihYY-rZjXE2nUzwCkte8B5FodqQQeTrmWvNUJL2miJF-/s1600/Mannequins2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="640" data-original-width="480" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTmiHBypnxRci4wRtGw838thBUISCQ8et8vLUpb8-v2U6PUc0HFu149p__GcsFmgkhMubyvvlzfa8qcTQGCwHiY0tQaYIa0yMvihYY-rZjXE2nUzwCkte8B5FodqQQeTrmWvNUJL2miJF-/s320/Mannequins2.jpg" width="240" /></a></div>
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There's probably a moral to that story, but I have no idea what it is. ;-)<br />
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But if you do ever find yourself in New York I highly recommend the Brooklyn Lager--it was very refreshing after a day spent trudging through a city in 37C temps.<br />
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<br />Michelle Douglashttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07748538761711892080noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2489168146200487747.post-82067440571087335502019-08-12T08:13:00.000+10:002019-08-12T08:13:11.435+10:00Carousing with the Cats<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Melbourne may have been freezing
with lashing rain and polar blasts, but it was warm and fabulous at the 2019
RWA conference this past weekend. I had such a brilliant time catching up with
the LoveCats family who all flew into Melbourne from across the country.</span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Calibri; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-latin;">Highlights included:<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Clare, Jennifer and Amy</td></tr>
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<li><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Calibri;">Watching the
stunning and statuesque <a href="http://www.annie-west.com/" target="_blank">Annie West</a> sweep into the Gala dinner in the most
beautiful green dress</span></li>
<li><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Calibri;">Hearing about <a href="http://www.michelle-douglas.com/" target="_blank">Michelle Douglas</a>’s amazing trip
to New York for the RWA America conference and her being a finalist in the US Rita
Awards (the highest award for distinction in romance fiction) for her book </span><i><span style="color: #333333; font-family: Calibri; mso-ansi-language: EN-AU; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-latin;"><a href="https://www.amazon.com/Michelle-Douglas/e/B0034Q2IHA" target="_blank">The Million Pound Marriage Deal</a></span></i></li>
<li><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Calibri;">Learning
more about <a href="http://www.clareconnelly.com/" target="_blank">Clare Connelly </a>incredible ongoing success and knowing it is happening
to such a beautiful person</span></li>
<li><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Calibri;">Laughing at <a href="http://www.shannoncurtis.com/" target="_blank">Shannon Curtis</a>’s wit. She kept me laughing all weekend. Hilarious doesn’t come close to
how funny this woman is</span></li>
<li><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Calibri;">Listening to
<a href="https://rachelbailey.com/" target="_blank">Rachel Bailey</a>’s awesome ideas for making future conferences more fabulous and watching with awe as she works behind the RWA scenes to get things done</span></li>
<li><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Calibri;">And there were so many more...</span></li>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Amy Andrew's keynote speech</td></tr>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Calibri; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-latin;">The weekend’s shining star was <a href="http://amyandrews.com.au/" target="_blank">Amy Andrews</a>. We leapt to our feet
for a standing ovation when Amy became a RWA Life Member for her incredible
contribution to organisation. Such a deserved honour as Amy has worked so hard for RWA
including being President (twice wasn’t it, Amy?).<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But, it also recognised Amy for all the incredible gifts of
kindness she shows people such as mentoring aspiring writers, helping authors network
and generally being an amazing, inspiring person. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Calibri; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-latin;">Amy received not one, but two standing ovations. Her keynote
speech has us falling off our chairs laughing then quickly scrambling back up
to scribble down all her words of wisdom. It was the amazing Amy Andrews (along
with a few other Cats!) who gave me the confidence to take writing seriously
and go for it.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Calibri; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-latin;">I’m now flying back to work (aarrrhhh) truly
inspired but also sad we won’t be doing that again for another year.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Something to look forward to.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Calibri; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-latin;">How about you? What did you get up to over
the weekend?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
Jennifer St Georgehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15115014191040562984noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2489168146200487747.post-91565783629903810162019-08-04T08:14:00.003+10:002019-08-04T08:15:09.035+10:00Sunday Smooch with Clare Connelly (Whoops, it's late!)<br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Welcome to another <span style="color: blue;"><span style="font-weight: bold;">LoveCats DownUnder Sunday Smooch</span>!</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Today we have a smooch from </span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Clare Connelly but first......the <span style="color: #cc0000; font-weight: bold;">winner</span> of last week's Sunday Smooch Giveaway is .... <span style="background-color: red;"><b>Laurie! </b></span></span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"> </span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"> </span></div>
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<span style="color: #323232; font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 14.489999771118164px;">Please </span><a href="mailto:Amy@Amyandrews.com.au" style="caret-color: rgb(50, 50, 50); color: #323232; font-family: georgia, "times new roman", serif; font-size: 14.489999771118164px;" target="_blank">contact Amy Andrews </a><span style="color: #323232; font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 14.489999771118164px;">to receive your prize!</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 14.489999771118164px;"><span style="color: #323232;">And now for today's Sunday Smooch from </span><span style="color: red;"><b><a href="https://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B07SGKT7DS?pf_rd_p=2d1ab404-3b11-4c97-b3db-48081e145e35&pf_rd_r=XJBC0AEEM6KX6FR786X5" target="_blank">REGRET ME NOT</a>!</b></span></span><br />
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<b style="caret-color: rgb(51, 51, 51); color: #333333; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; text-align: start;">One sexy night with consequences...</b></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 14px;">It was one single night of passion with a mysterious stranger, but when Elodie Gardiner realises she’s pregnant, she naturally intends to tell her billionaire lover – only before she can do so, she discovers a very pressing reason to keep their baby a secret! </span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 14px;">Three years later, ruthless tycoon Fiero Montebello receives a shocking call from a London hospital. The woman he slept with three years ago is in a serious condition in ICU – and the son he never knew he had is in the crèche! </span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 14px;">Family is everything to Fiero and there’s no way he’s going to let his son be raised anywhere than under his roof – even if that means his one-time lover is a part of that. He can never forgive her for keeping their child a secret, but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t still want her. This seduction is a dangerous game laced with resentment and hurt… </span></div>
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<span style="color: blue; font-family: "times new roman"; font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><i>Scene set-up</i></span></span><br />
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<i style="caret-color: rgb(50, 50, 50); color: blue; font-family: georgia, "times new roman", serif; font-size: 12pt;">This is a secret love-child romance (one of my favourite tropes) and the baby daddy in question, Italian Billionaire Fiero Montebello is, understandably, furious to discover he has a two year old he never knew about. The result of a passionate one-night-stand, this scene is the immediate aftermath of his discovery and shows how he's processing the news and trying to work out how to fit all the pieces together. I absolutely love this </i><span style="color: blue; font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="caret-color: rgb(50, 50, 50);"><i>book</i></span></span><i style="caret-color: rgb(50, 50, 50); color: blue; font-family: georgia, "times new roman", serif; font-size: 12pt;"> but I'd have to say Fiero's fiery nature (see what I did there?) has made him my most polarising hero to date! He's a big tough alpha but don't worry, he's got a heart of gold in there and you do get to see it by the end of the book ;) I'm giving away an e-book copy of the book (sorry, it's only in digital because NYC with fellow love-cats Amy Andrews and Michelle Douglas has meant no time for boring things like checking the formatting of print files, WHOOPS!). </i><br />
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<span style="color: blue; font-family: "times new roman"; font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><i>Smooch - </i></span></span></div>
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“I made a mistake.” <o:p></o:p></div>
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“<i>Christo</i>, <i>si, </i>you made a mistake. And now you’re asking me to forgive and forget.” <o:p></o:p></div>
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She swept her eyes shut, knowing what a monumental task that would be for him. “For Jack.” <o:p></o:p></div>
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“Yes, for Jack.” He ground his teeth together, and she was conscious, out of nowhere, of how close they were to one another. His long fingers were curled around her wrists, and every time he sucked in a breath his chest moved forward to brush against her nipples. <o:p></o:p></div>
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The last thing she’d expected to feel for this man ever again, and especially in that moment, was desire, but there it was, turning her blood to lava and her knees to jelly. <o:p></o:p></div>
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Something in the air around them shifted, changing so that she was conscious of him in a way that was all-consuming and definitely not one-sided. She saw the way his eyes changed, his pupils flexing, his lids lowering; she saw his lips part and felt his warm breath fan her temples and her own lips mirrored his, separating and pushing a soft breath from her lungs.<o:p></o:p></div>
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“You should have told me about him.” And despite the anger he’d thrown at her, the fury, the threats, her stomach looped because she felt what was at the root of everything he’d said and done: devastation. <o:p></o:p></div>
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He was devastated. <o:p></o:p></div>
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She sobbed, but he lifted a finger to her lips, and she gasped in surprise, the touch totally unexpected. <o:p></o:p></div>
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“Stop crying.” <o:p></o:p></div>
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She shook her head a little. “I can’t.” <o:p></o:p></div>
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His hands cupped her face then, holding her completely still, and her hands, now free, dropped to her side. “I will never forgive you for keeping my son away from me.” <o:p></o:p></div>
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His words were like acid and his touch was like silk. She couldn’t fathom how she felt. <o:p></o:p></div>
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“But it appears I cannot make the same decision you did. I will not push you out of his life.” Her heart turned over in her chest. <o:p></o:p></div>
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His thumb padded over her lower lip and her heart rabbited against her ribs for another reason now. Despite the seriousness of this conversation, she could barely concentrate. <o:p></o:p></div>
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“You and Jack will move into my house.” The words were devoid of emotion. “For six months, you will live with me, to see if we can do it your way – and raise him together.” <o:p></o:p></div>
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It was more than she’d expected. Different to what she’d hoped and yet it made a strange kind of sense. “We’ll live together?”<o:p></o:p></div>
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His eyes flashed. “For Jack’s sake, yes, but you and I will remember the truth, Elodie. We will know what we think and feel, no matter how much effort we go to for the happiness of our son.” <o:p></o:p></div>
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His head dropped a little lower, his eyes scanning hers. “You will know that when I smile, it means nothing. That my anger and hatred for your decisions are still inside of me, weighing down on me with the pressure of every single day of Jack’s life I have missed.” <o:p></o:p></div>
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Salty tears clogged her eyes. <o:p></o:p></div>
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“You will know, when we look at Jack and laugh, like normal parents, that it’s a lie.” <o:p></o:p></div>
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Her lips parted on a gasp, or perhaps the start of a plea, a desire to make him stop talking like this. “And you will know that if I kiss you, Elodie, it is because of the same chemistry that drove us together that night, and nothing more. You will know that I will never like you as a person, that I will never forgive you for your decisions.” <o:p></o:p></div>
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She didn’t get a chance to speak. His lips claimed hers and she moaned, knees that had been jelly for long, aching minutes giving way so she would have collapsed to the ground if it weren’t for his arm clamped vice-like around her back, holding her to his body, binding them together. <o:p></o:p></div>
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And they were bound together. By their son, and by something else, something that lodged inside Elodie and refused to let go.<b style="text-align: center; text-indent: 21.3pt;"> </b></div>
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“Don't.” She shook her head but didn’t pull back. She didn’t want to. </div>
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Her brain was screaming at her to put some distance between them but her body…oh, her traitorous, treacherous body. Everything shook and trembled inside of her, and her hands were lifting and tangling in his hair of their own accord. She remembered this so well – the feeling of her body pressed to his. The height difference meant she had to push right up to be able to reach, but his hands curved around her waist and lifted her the rest of the way, holding her to him, her feet off the floor, as though it was the only way they could exist. <o:p></o:p></div>
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His words were still hammering inside of her, the disdain he felt for her evident in every single one, but her body was desperate, hungry, and for a moment, she willingly pushed away common sense and simply existed. She felt rather than thought.<o:p></o:p></div>
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His kiss dominated her. <o:p></o:p></div>
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It was only afterwards that she realised it was a punishing kiss, designed to draw submission from her, to show her his pain, even when it was a pain she already understood. But punishing or not, the kiss swirled the waters of her soul so she was whimpering into his mouth before she realised it, and only just stopped herself from moaning, ‘please’, into the room. <o:p></o:p></div>
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Her intense need was a wake up call. <o:p></o:p></div>
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With a fierce burst of reason, she pushed at his chest, separating them now, her feet finding the floor physically and metaphorically, shock at what had just happened causing her to lift trembling fingers to her lips as though she could wipe his kiss away. <o:p></o:p></div>
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It was some very small consolation that he looked as shocked as she felt. <o:p></o:p></div>
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“Don’t,” she said again, but this time, she meant it. “Don’t you dare kiss me.” <o:p></o:p></div>
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<span style="text-align: start; text-indent: 0px;"><span style="color: blue; font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="caret-color: rgb(50, 50, 50);">F0r a chance to win a digital copy of <a href="https://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B07SGKT7DS?pf_rd_p=2d1ab404-3b11-4c97-b3db-48081e145e35&pf_rd_r=XJBC0AEEM6KX6FR786X5" target="_blank">REGRET ME NOT</a> leave a comment below. Bonus points, tell me if you love alpha heroes or not? They're 100% my jam, I love them. Michelle Reid wrote some of my all-time favourites, but pretty much any Harlequin Presents hero floats my boat. What about you?! Alpha or Beta or Cinnamon Roll!? 'Til next time, LoveCats, meowy mwahs. x</span></span></span></div>
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Clare Connellyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01284821138196684053noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2489168146200487747.post-253122742358714162019-07-25T00:54:00.000+10:002019-07-25T00:54:38.358+10:00<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm 0cm 0.0001pt;">
Stress soothers – Kandy Shepherd<o:p></o:p></div>
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It’s been quite a stressful time for me in recent weeks. Our house is on the market and it was a frantic time getting it ready. Now there’s the constant pressure to keep it really tidy! <o:p></o:p></div>
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Amidst all that I had my next story to finish for Harlequin Mills & Boon. A severe bout of the flu took me out of action for a month, which put me behind on my deadline. (I caught the flu before I’d had a chance to get vaccinated.) </div>
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Thank heaven, I finally finished (just last night!) after long hours of BOC (butt on chair) and being very anti-social. Now I go through the nail-biting time of hoping my lovely editor likes the story...</div>
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Other stressful things have been happening too. So I thought I’d share some photos of things I love and think looking at might help to keep the blood pressure down! (Of course that's apart from the obvious stress releases like exercise, meditation, massage, binge TV and so on!) I’d love to hear what are your favourite stress relievers.</div>
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The first thing I turn to at stressful times is chocolate, which I really, really shouldn't do. All those stress-relieving nibbles and all that sitting down leads to a new stressor – getting fatter! Deadly, my dietitian daughter warns...</div>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2uC0GxAgavoVTiWMDQMJBUuhnZnWfXUPh6PUzdEY-oBbLzE9bKjSEp4Q_PrY_g1tfrNoBJ8KOc244fW6-LrGHVnUw6fJQqXrMfSg6Wuig5pGQuwac3pRYCwoUEzzSIyXJPWBYnVZuq7I/s1600/IMG_1143.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="192" data-original-width="256" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2uC0GxAgavoVTiWMDQMJBUuhnZnWfXUPh6PUzdEY-oBbLzE9bKjSEp4Q_PrY_g1tfrNoBJ8KOc244fW6-LrGHVnUw6fJQqXrMfSg6Wuig5pGQuwac3pRYCwoUEzzSIyXJPWBYnVZuq7I/s1600/IMG_1143.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Chocolate is not what I should be turning to!</td></tr>
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<o:p>I love to have flowers in the house, from my garden ideally. While my house is open for inspections I indulge in some flowers arrangements from my favourite florist. We go way back to my magazine days, and she knows just the flowers to lift my spirits!</o:p></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiH0pq7nEiiTBxtIB82E_Y0Xu3viDluok-_vR8EDyo6Ao_QJzWFDGsorpotq5hrVqOJNm0edkNy8nV0tlGp-XiTC0r7OddTQgdyx-cf4j9qTTR7wF7SkIXBUv0MYuGmUyRNVhztU-QOvaE/s1600/IMG_1139.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="512" data-original-width="512" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiH0pq7nEiiTBxtIB82E_Y0Xu3viDluok-_vR8EDyo6Ao_QJzWFDGsorpotq5hrVqOJNm0edkNy8nV0tlGp-XiTC0r7OddTQgdyx-cf4j9qTTR7wF7SkIXBUv0MYuGmUyRNVhztU-QOvaE/s320/IMG_1139.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The colours of these flowers soothe my soul! (Love the little cabbages.)<br /></td></tr>
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I absolutely love the water, swimming in the sea and walking along a beach are among my favourite past-times. Both these beaches are in the far northern suburbs of Sydney and easily accessible. One reason this particular LoveCat likes living DownUnder!</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXvpEmjE_W_PZ2m-Gb0HUDVEQl8H5tmbF5mUXPUBGCRnMFmsikvGvkI3HSVjwVXp8-0fspDCbImOTN8Nce_eKO0XAvQEvaE0GBHB9yAImaJrylV8MtgegAVKvFLbAyAwma2WtBPoeq_-M/s1600/IMG_0588.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="192" data-original-width="256" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXvpEmjE_W_PZ2m-Gb0HUDVEQl8H5tmbF5mUXPUBGCRnMFmsikvGvkI3HSVjwVXp8-0fspDCbImOTN8Nce_eKO0XAvQEvaE0GBHB9yAImaJrylV8MtgegAVKvFLbAyAwma2WtBPoeq_-M/s1600/IMG_0588.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This is Bungan Beach on Sydney's northern beaches, view from a house for sale (that we couldn't possibly afford, sadly!)<br /></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidcScXYfqetUN_i-hjs9v6YFvPidrAwRtm23rN-JGjEQnWQONP3LgfrHUSwM_j-AKAdGY6q-TOAxqn1or42WoXFqW3Hy6Pm3kU5_xvlvCYXOXnMEw8W9cNUpT0Pm7lshN1woQ9YoYUfA0/s1600/IMG_1078.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="192" data-original-width="256" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidcScXYfqetUN_i-hjs9v6YFvPidrAwRtm23rN-JGjEQnWQONP3LgfrHUSwM_j-AKAdGY6q-TOAxqn1or42WoXFqW3Hy6Pm3kU5_xvlvCYXOXnMEw8W9cNUpT0Pm7lshN1woQ9YoYUfA0/s1600/IMG_1078.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Too chilly (winter Down Under) for me to swim but others are braving the waters at Mona Vale, another Sydney beach.<br /><br /></td></tr>
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Who isn't cheered up by a rainbow. This one was taken on a walk around our little farm when I was seeking inspiration for a plot point. </div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5jjPrBF9_PWQAHYEqoCm48CUUlqj7r9G1yqHs5xz9568xS5oXSW9OzqL9RgQl0S3wWz7cQ78gsmXfE1sIBKUj1ePbSP4_ImO1ZmS6ycCVoxPKUZpNP36Hyr3oz-vQDffTnViZYfihz_E/s1600/IMG_0873.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="192" data-original-width="256" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5jjPrBF9_PWQAHYEqoCm48CUUlqj7r9G1yqHs5xz9568xS5oXSW9OzqL9RgQl0S3wWz7cQ78gsmXfE1sIBKUj1ePbSP4_ImO1ZmS6ycCVoxPKUZpNP36Hyr3oz-vQDffTnViZYfihz_E/s1600/IMG_0873.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Stormy weather and a rainbow in the Blue Mountains</td></tr>
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Food I haven't had to cook myself (or clear up afterwards) is a cheer-up treat. This cafe breakfast of corn fritters really hit the spot. </div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIZtXAGxp42Jy2dGu2ow5s0K0BmqJy-aemq038s2E77ZNb9wSu3Bo34fA2wL0LhJ3dESFLavHYtUEgsFtRfTyeTDFKc-KqaY9IjPL9J1uJQrblh1yTtlfA3r5UH34HrY6rnBZedq0XH5g/s1600/IMG_1073.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="256" data-original-width="192" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIZtXAGxp42Jy2dGu2ow5s0K0BmqJy-aemq038s2E77ZNb9wSu3Bo34fA2wL0LhJ3dESFLavHYtUEgsFtRfTyeTDFKc-KqaY9IjPL9J1uJQrblh1yTtlfA3r5UH34HrY6rnBZedq0XH5g/s1600/IMG_1073.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">That gorgeous green is a pea puree</td></tr>
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Of course my cats always bring joy, just looking at them makes me feel happy. Stroking them and listening to them purr are proven stress releasers.</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisU0x5g1PAow24_2DcHh1NfkGbgjFKbbqVNwNgT88Sai_k5MxZ2Y8ClGqBxo9fbPy8bJS5r8BYdps13YnzeLYl-tfBRy7sZUx2rr3QM4vGxpQDEFggdX3bwFJCdZQM9EX_DcFSFyn00do/s1600/IMG_0961+%25281%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="346" data-original-width="568" height="194" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisU0x5g1PAow24_2DcHh1NfkGbgjFKbbqVNwNgT88Sai_k5MxZ2Y8ClGqBxo9fbPy8bJS5r8BYdps13YnzeLYl-tfBRy7sZUx2rr3QM4vGxpQDEFggdX3bwFJCdZQM9EX_DcFSFyn00do/s320/IMG_0961+%25281%2529.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My precious kitties taking up my entire side of the bed! From left: Alfie, Tabitha, Ivy</td></tr>
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Then there's spending time with my wonderful husband and gorgeous daughter. But they don't much like me posting pictures of them on social media!</div>
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What works for you when you need to distract yourself from stress? I'd love to read your comments!</div>
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Kandy Shepherdhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16992773219169379298noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2489168146200487747.post-85962646649485890482019-07-22T08:00:00.000+10:002019-07-22T08:00:02.493+10:00Up, Up and Away by Amy Andrews.<br /><br />
<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">As you read this, I will be on a plane winging it to the USA. To New freaking York to be exact for the Romance Writers of America conference.</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">New York, baby - Woooooot! </span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">I'll be there with fellow Cats, Clare Connelly and Michelle Douglas. </span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">Michelle and I are both up for a RITA award on Friday night (Saturday morning Down Under). Michelle for her Harlequin book, T<i>he Million Pound Marriage Deal</i> and me for my Harlequin Escape book, <i>Fair Game. </i></span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">I'll be back with pics from my visit to the Big Apple next time but in the mean time</span></span><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"> </span>everybody keep everything crossed for either Michelle or I to take out that RITA please :-)</span></span><br />
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<br />Amy Andrewshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12690419732247281048noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2489168146200487747.post-84876938212821848932019-07-21T07:00:00.000+10:002019-07-21T07:00:02.487+10:00Sunday Smooch with Amy Andrews<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Welcome to another <span style="color: blue;"><span style="font-weight: bold;">LoveCats DownUnder Sunday Smooch</span>!</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Today we have a smooch from </span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Amy Andrews but first......the <span style="color: #cc0000; font-weight: bold;">winner</span> of last week's Sunday Smooch Giveaway is .... <b><span style="background-color: red;">Mary Preston! </span></b></span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWvwknO6zDsSshwh1LN6VGHMzL2f7m3Ys8DFCJpjWitZDpZgYo5sjgt1jS2VfTD2kmcV4ftsD-YnKDI6bzuJXy8nrBfx8fDXai9puGg-RLi17PynyLSeXQgvMjcTM4EwDHeKFzxC-zMTU/s1600/SundaySmooch.JPG" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWvwknO6zDsSshwh1LN6VGHMzL2f7m3Ys8DFCJpjWitZDpZgYo5sjgt1jS2VfTD2kmcV4ftsD-YnKDI6bzuJXy8nrBfx8fDXai9puGg-RLi17PynyLSeXQgvMjcTM4EwDHeKFzxC-zMTU/s1600/SundaySmooch.JPG" /></a><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Mary, can you please contact<span style="font-family: "georgia";"> Michelle at </span></span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">michelle (at) michelle-douglas (dot) com to receive your prize!</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">And now for today's Sunday Smooch from <b><span style="color: red;">The Kissing Contract! </span></b></span><br />
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Marshall Dyson wants one thing and
one thing only: to raze his grandfather’s island to the ground.
Everything is ready to go—except for the freakin’ bunnies! Hundreds of
the furry critters hopping about and multiplying before his eyes. And
then there’s the American Bunny League, along with one distractingly
beautiful veterinarian, taking him to court to save them...<br />
Dr.
Augusta “Gus” North can’t believe the grumpy—and annoyingly hot—builder
she’s facing in court cares more about demo-ing some cabin than the
lives of 200 bunnies. But when the judge orders Marshall to stay on the
island and help her rehome the rabbits—the entire month—she knows
they’re going to need to lay some ground rules.<br />
Like, for example,
absolutely no kissing. Might as well go ahead and get that in writing.
Sure it’s on a napkin, but that still counts. <br />
How hard could it
be to keep their hands off each other amidst all the fighting?
Surprisingly, harder than wrangling 200 bunnies...</div>
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<span style="color: blue;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><i>Scene set-up</i></span></span><br />
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<span style="color: blue;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><i>Augusta shows up at Marshall's work site to deliver him his adopted rabbit, Thumper. It's the first time they've seen each other since the island and things get really heated, really quickly....</i></span></span><br />
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<span style="color: blue;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><i>Smooch - </i></span></span><br />
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<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-indent: 36.0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">A guy ran over from a truck, where he’d
been talking to the driver, a frown on his face. “Lady…” he said, raising his
voice a little, “you’re not supposed to be on site without permission <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">and</i> a hard hat.”</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-indent: 36.0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">“Oh…right, sorry.” Gus also raised her
voice. “I was just looking for Marshall. I mean…<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Mr. Dyson</i>.”</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-indent: 36.0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">The guy laughed. “<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Mr. Dyson? </i>He’s over there.” He pointed to a group huddled around
some plans before putting two less than clean fingers in his mouth and
whistled. It was a piercing noise that cut above the din, and a bunch more men
looked.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-indent: 36.0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">Including Marshall.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-indent: 36.0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">He was dressed pretty much like everyone
else in heavy-duty pants, boots, a high visibility vest, and hard hat, but he
was <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Marshall </i>and her heart <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">clunked </i>in her chest as he stood and
stared. Gus knew the feelings swelling inside her were more than just <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">missing him</i> feelings or even <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">falling for him</i> feelings. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-indent: 36.0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">They were <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">fallen really hard</i> feelings. <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Crap.</i></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-indent: 36.0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">Suddenly, he was striding toward her,
and Gus’s stomach clenched and her knees knocked as his long legs chewed up the
distance. Sunglasses hid his gaze, so she couldn’t read him, but his stride was
purposeful and…intent. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-indent: 36.0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">“Someone to see you, <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Mr. Dyson</i>,” the guy said with a grin as
Marshall drew level with them.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-indent: 36.0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">His eyes may have been hidden, but Gus
could feel his gaze burning into hers. “Piss off, Brett,” Marshall said.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-indent: 36.0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">The guy saluted. “Yes, sir, <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Mr. Dyson</i>, sir,” he said, and ambled off
unhurriedly, chuckling to himself. He joined a huddle of men who clearly had no
intention of getting back to work while there was a woman in stilettos, holding
a rabbit in a cage, talking to the boss. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-indent: 36.0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">Marshall whipped his sunglasses off and
Gus’s pulse leapt as his indigo gaze latched hungrily onto hers. He was cleanly
shaven and it took her back to that day in court. Man, had a lot of water
flowed under the bridge since then.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-indent: 36.0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">“What’s up, doc?” Then he grinned. “I
wasn’t expecting you.”</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-indent: 36.0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">Gus smiled. “I thought I’d hand-deliver
your new best friend.” She held up the cage, but Marshall barely paid Thumper
any attention.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-indent: 36.0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">His eyes roved over, and he shook his
head. “It had to be the skirt? And the heels?”</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-indent: 36.0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">Yeah, she shouldn’t have. But the Devil
had ridden her this morning when she’d been deciding what to wear. She probably
wouldn’t have if she’d known she was going to end up on a construction site,
but the heat in his eyes as he looked at her made her decision worthwhile.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-indent: 36.0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">Not to mention curling her toes. She
shrugged. “This old thing?” </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-indent: 36.0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">Grinning, he shook his head. Reaching for
the cage with one hand, he relieved her of it while circling her upper arm with
the other. “Let’s take this somewhere more private, shall we?”</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-indent: 36.0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">His tug was gentle but firm and, aware
of their audience, Gus followed meekly. But her legs had started shaking again
and her heart was rattling almost as loudly as the jackhammer in her ears. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-indent: 36.0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">Towing her toward the trailer, he opened
the door for her and said, “Inside.”</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-indent: 36.0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">Gus didn’t argue, walking up the two
steps and entering the trailer, conscious of him following into the room. She
looked around—two desks covered in paperwork complete with coffee ring stains,
a filing cabinet with a box of tools on top, several hard plastic chairs, walls
devoid of any decoration, and layers of dust clinging to all the surfaces. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-indent: 36.0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">Two pedestal fans, with rivulets of grime
clinging to their cages, pushed warm air around the room. A wash basin that had
clearly never been cleaned stood next to a bar fridge on top of which was a
coffee percolator, the pot half full. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-indent: 36.0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">To say it reeked of testosterone was an
understatement.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-indent: 36.0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">She stepped to the side and he brushed
past, her body lurching at the slight caress as he put the cage down behind the
far desk and quickly washed his hands. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-indent: 36.0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">“Shut the door.”</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-indent: 36.0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">Gus did as he asked, the construction
noise muffling instantly. So much for not being alone with him in an office. Turning
to face Marshall, she leaned her back against the door, watching as he dried
his hands on some paper towels then crossed to the window, where he reached for
the cord of the blinds. With a quick pull, they dropped down. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-indent: 36.0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">A twist of his wrist and the slats
snapped shut. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-indent: 36.0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">The room dimmed a little, stray fingers
of sunlight still managing to poke in around the edges of the covering. His
eyes met hers and locked as he took off his hard hat, ruffling his hair with
one hand as he threw the hat on the nearest desk with the other. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-indent: 36.0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">“No, leave it,” she said, her voice
husky with nerves and the way his gaze was eating her up. “I like it. Very blue
collar.” </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-indent: 36.0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">“Another time,” he growled, prowling
towards her.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-indent: 36.0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">Gus pressed her knees together as he
approached. Everything inside her heated, melted, liquefied. She shouldn’t be
here with him, like this. No good could come of it. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-indent: 36.0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">He stopped in front of her, just out of
reach. “I’m going to kiss you now,” he said, his eyes roving over her face.
“Better speak up if you’re not down with that.”</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-indent: 36.0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">Gus knew she should speak up. Knew she
should move. She’d fallen for a man who came with a built-in expiration date. But
she did neither. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-indent: 36.0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">She didn’t <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">want</i> to move. She <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">wanted</i>
him to kiss her.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-indent: 36.0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">He nodded and muttered, “Okay then,”
taking that last step toward her, slipping one hand onto her hip, cupping the
other around her jaw, his mouth swooping down to claim hers in a hard, hot, hungry
kiss.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-indent: 36.0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">Her head <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">thunk</i>ed back against the door at the force of it and sparkles of
color popped behind her eyes. Her pulse thrummed through her veins as she grabbed
for his shoulders, pulling him closer, his hand slid to her ass and hitched her
closer again, her heels high enough to bring their hips into alignment. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-indent: 36.0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">He groaned against her mouth. He tasted
like coffee and smelled like sunshine and shampoo, and her nose filled with the
scent and the flavor of him as she kissed him back harder and hotter. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-indent: 36.0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">But it wasn’t enough. She squirmed
against him, needing him <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">closer</i>.
Needing more of him.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-indent: 36.0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">All of him. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-indent: 36.0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">As if he could read her mind, his hand
was at her waist, pulling her blouse out of her skirt and his palm was pushing
under the fabric, big and hot on her skin as it smoothed up, up, up until it
hit the fleshy satin rise of her breast, and then he was squeezing and kneading
and pulling the cup aside, his fingers taunting her aching nipple. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-indent: 36.0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">Gus gasped, breaking their lip lock as
they squeezed. She arched and cried out and he kissed her again and again and
again, his hands making short work of her buttons before groping for the zipper
at the back of her skirt.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-indent: 36.0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">“Up,” she said, panting against his
mouth. “Up is easier.”</span></div>
<br />
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<br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="color: blue;">F0r a chance to win a digitial copy of The Kissing Contract leave an answer to the question in the comments and come back next week for the announcement of the winner and another Smooch!</span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="color: blue;">Question - hard hat yes, or hard hat no? :-) </span></span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5VOhgCaKfKicWTcxD-awzCbgzbDXzorPCVpI0k8-No5pTWo3NGiWuMfTgiGDM96Wqhy3XquCNByXNLFsm0vr3KI3to6cVfUpr9eSZCnGbvnF9xREe8ZTQM1wI8zEMmK62eDQrJb1Sq0E/s1600/amybio.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1463" data-original-width="1538" height="304" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5VOhgCaKfKicWTcxD-awzCbgzbDXzorPCVpI0k8-No5pTWo3NGiWuMfTgiGDM96Wqhy3XquCNByXNLFsm0vr3KI3to6cVfUpr9eSZCnGbvnF9xREe8ZTQM1wI8zEMmK62eDQrJb1Sq0E/s320/amybio.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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Amy Andrewshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12690419732247281048noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2489168146200487747.post-1397130993546046372019-07-17T10:33:00.001+10:002019-07-17T10:33:53.518+10:00My Happy Place<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<span style="color: #cc0000; text-align: start;">by Bronwyn Jameson </span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUtfTDI4ajRmK5PnVVdeB5pMWoPqcBxUbv-MQpttYcZUHgdk1t3lvqRnLL9Izn2mq1P9UNn3Q4f22BcXp6AkJzmsUxozUHjZcVetiXLJ9SxqMDCOBHhuMK92AKU_wZQz_qUOjKTfXnngA/s1600/IMG_6552.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUtfTDI4ajRmK5PnVVdeB5pMWoPqcBxUbv-MQpttYcZUHgdk1t3lvqRnLL9Izn2mq1P9UNn3Q4f22BcXp6AkJzmsUxozUHjZcVetiXLJ9SxqMDCOBHhuMK92AKU_wZQz_qUOjKTfXnngA/s320/IMG_6552.JPG" width="240" /></a></div>
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This birthday gift should have been easy to hang. Neutral colours. Practical size: not too large, not too small. <br /><br />But its significance left me mulling for some time over where it should be hung. <br /><br />My “happy place” has always been non-literal. I find it in the pages of a beautifully crafted book. Planning my next travel adventure or helping someone else do the same. With beverage in hand, laughing with family or friends. Preparing a meal — or baking a cake — to share with aforementioned family.<br /><br />My gift is not a book-mark. I can’t take it with me on my next adventure, to hang in the departure lounge. My favourite drinks place is my front verandah: with a view but without protection from the elements. Which left me with my final — and happy — option.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgENlVvMr_4nwRh77oNBUmYm19t-v1VHiwjfzbtAB51_5_tl2BfyLUnfgnNFC-nKjxj0k469ImdWTzk6Q2zwJG4TenCiqn7TIWaMU_z-veNE42aHcNDrC9gWh1OZB0n-ICZSe_Wom5bexs/s1600/IMG_6551.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1128" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgENlVvMr_4nwRh77oNBUmYm19t-v1VHiwjfzbtAB51_5_tl2BfyLUnfgnNFC-nKjxj0k469ImdWTzk6Q2zwJG4TenCiqn7TIWaMU_z-veNE42aHcNDrC9gWh1OZB0n-ICZSe_Wom5bexs/s320/IMG_6551.jpg" width="225" /></a></div>
<br />It now hangs in my kitchen and I’m happy to see it when I walk into the room, even before I start my next baking adventure. Lately I’ve been glomming carrot cakes. Here are two super-yummy successes: the first is a classic <a href="https://www.sbs.com.au/food/recipes/carrot-cake-lemon-cream-cheese-frosting" target="_blank">Carrot Cake with lemon cream cheese frosting</a>. The second has a surprise twist: tea and spices. <a href="https://www.sbs.com.au/food/recipes/masala-chai-carrot-cake" target="_blank">Masala Chai Carrot Cake</a>. <div>
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<br /><br />What is your happy place?<br /><br />Where would you hang this wall art?</div>
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Bronwyn Jamesonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00720477786460767921noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2489168146200487747.post-67923508545446016882019-07-14T00:00:00.000+10:002019-07-14T00:00:01.914+10:00RITA smooch<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Welcome to another <span style="color: blue;"><span style="font-weight: bold;">LoveCats DownUnder Sunday Smooch</span>!</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Today we have a smooch from Michelle's RITA-nominated romance <b><i><span style="color: blue;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">The Million Pound <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Marriage Deal</span></span></span></i></b> </span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">but first... </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">... the <span style="color: #cc0000; font-weight: bold;">winner</span> of last week's Sunday Smooch Giveaway is <b><span style="color: red;"><span style="font-family: "times new roman";">JennyW</span></span></b><span style="color: red;"><span style="font-family: "times new roman";"><span style="color: black;">!</span></span></span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Jenny you please contact maggie on<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">: <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">maggiechritensen <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">(at)</span> maggiechristensenauthor<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"> (dot<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">) </span></span>com</span></span> to receive your prize</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">And now for today's Sunday Smooch from </span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><b><i><span style="color: blue;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">The Million Pound <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Marriage Deal...</span></span></span></i></b></span><br />
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A marriage of convenience...<br />
<i>With a price!</i><br />
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Billionaire
playboy Will Trent-Paterson has one year to get married. His
grandfather will disinherit him if he doesn't settle down, leaving his
vulnerable sister homeless! So when old friend Sophie Mitchell jokes
that she'd marry him for a million pounds, a temporary marriage seems
like the perfect solution! Until, after spending time with captivating
Sophie, Will realizes walking away will be the hardest part...<br />
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<span style="color: blue;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">[Scene set-up: Will and Sophie are <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">about to appear for the first time as a<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">n e<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">ngaged couple and they're "practi<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">cing<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">" at trying to appear as natural as possible<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"> when, in fact, they're both feeling</span> impossibl<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">y awkward.]</span></span></span></span></span></span><i><br /></i></span></span><br />
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<span style="color: blue;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="color: black;"> ‘If we mess this up. If we lose our heads and forget ourselves…just once…then we’re not going to want to see each other again.’</span></span></span><br />
<span style="color: blue;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="color: black;"> <span style="color: blue;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"> </span></span>Her words were like a punch to the gut. Because they were true.<br />
‘It’s what I meant when I said we were playing a dangerous game.’ Her
eyes flashed. ‘If you found me unattractive that would be—’ She broke
off. ‘But you don’t.’<br /> And he realised then what she’d made explicit
but had left unsaid. She didn’t find him unattractive either. The
knowledge made his blood roar.<br /> Hell.<br /> He ground his back molars together and counted to three, pulled in a breath. ‘You have my word that I won’t lose my head.’<br /> He would not let her down.<br /> ‘And you have my word.’<br />
They had to be cautious, circumspect. He couldn’t let himself feel too
comfortable with her…and yet they both had to cultivate an appearance of
tranquillity with each other for outside eyes. She was right. This
could be trickier than he’d first envisaged. But not impossible.<br /> Before he knew what she was about she’d leaned in, stood on tiptoe and pressed a kiss to his cheek. ‘Thank you.’<br /> His heart crashed in his chest. His cheek burned where her lips had touched him.<br /> She eased back, adjusted her cardigan. ‘Right. Your turn.’<br />
She was trying to make kissing him as natural as possible, and he had
to do the same. ‘Believe it or not,’ he said, ‘it’s my pleasure.’<br /> He pressed a kiss to her brow and tried not to notice how soft and warm and vibrant she felt beneath his lips.<br /> She huffed out a laugh. ‘Well, in that case I choose to believe it. Right, sit.’<br /> She gestured to the sofa and he took a seat. She came from behind. Her arms slid around his shoulders, making him start.<br /> ‘You do that downstairs and you’ll give the game away.’<br /> He nodded and gritted his teeth. ‘Do it again.’<br />
She eased back, walked away, and then moved towards him again and bent
down to slide just one arm about his shoulders. He rested his hand on
her forearm and felt a tiny tremor run through her. He pulled in a
measured breath and her scent flooded his senses. ‘You smell nice.’<br /> Nice? That’s the best you can manage?<br /> She smelled sensational—fruity and warm, like Christmas. Though Christmas was months away.<br /> ‘It’s my body lotion. Frosted cherry. My favourite.’<br />
They broke apart at exactly the same moment. This was exhausting, but
he saw the wisdom of it. They needed to give the impression that they
were physically comfortable with each other.<br /> When nothing could be further from the truth.<br /> ‘Your turn.’ He waved her to the armchair.<br /> She sat, leaned back, crossed her legs—for all the world as if she were completely at ease.<br /> Time for them to get this over and done with.<br />
Her eyes widened when he braced his hands on the arms of the chair and
leant down towards her, effectively locking her in and leaving her
nowhere to escape. ‘Lips?’<br /> She glanced at his lips and then back into his eyes and nodded. ‘Dry lips,’ she whispered. ‘And we keep it brief.’<br />
Every cell in his body burst to life. He recited, Peter’s sister,
Peter’s sister, Peter’s sister, over and over in his mind. ‘I want to
tell you something before we do this,’ he murmured, his gaze not
dropping from hers.<br /> ‘She swallowed. ‘Okay.’<br /> ‘You’re wrong. I like you just fine, Sophie Mitchell.’<br />
Her lips parted as if in shock. He couldn’t resist the pull any longer.
His mouth lowered to hers, lips brushing lips—light, teasing and
nowhere near enough. She stiffened, but then he felt her force herself
to relax. And then she leaned forward a fraction and pressed her lips
more firmly against his and kissed him back.<br /> Wind roared in his
ears. It took all the strength he had to not deepen the kiss, to not
engage lips, mouths, tongues and hands.<br /> Biting back a groan, he
pulled back to stare into stunned blue eyes. They were a deeper shade of
blue than he’d ever seen before.<br /> She pushed him away and launched
herself from the chair like a horse from a starter’s gate. ‘We better
keep that to a minimum.’<br /> She was darn right they were keeping that to a minimum!<br />
He’d kiss her cheek, her brow, the top of her head, her hand, but he
had every intention of staying as far away from those lips as possible.
They were lethal!</span></span></span><br />
<span style="color: blue;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="color: black;"> </span><i><br /></i></span></span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2ikLFlRfvQcAZXqBJwCwzX1me4wG4MP8QJ5orlpGGpAH9MLprSKnkdyE6oPCrprOqvl5YBILcn0rge081wXZFRVWXbVnc4G3uSaU9Om-EU3BQGaRgu3KdLmioeypaZ9uDPAYwW-mFoW0o/s1600/shota5.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1600" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2ikLFlRfvQcAZXqBJwCwzX1me4wG4MP8QJ5orlpGGpAH9MLprSKnkdyE6oPCrprOqvl5YBILcn0rge081wXZFRVWXbVnc4G3uSaU9Om-EU3BQGaRgu3KdLmioeypaZ9uDPAYwW-mFoW0o/s200/shota5.jpg" width="200" /></a><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">I'm currently away in New York -- Yay! And I'm so looking forward to living it up at the RITA Awards ceremony. Leave a comment to go into the draw to win a copy of <i><b>The Million Pound Marriage Deal</b></i>, and I'll make sure to send it as soon as I return home. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Come back next Sunday, when the winner of today's giveaway will be announced and a smooch from <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Amy Andrews</span> will be posted!</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><i>Smooch Graphic by <a href="http://www.webweaver.nu/clipart/people/mouths/" target="_blank">WebWeaver</a></i></span></span> </span></div>
Michelle Douglashttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07748538761711892080noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2489168146200487747.post-68965563816453369462019-07-10T00:00:00.000+10:002019-07-10T00:00:02.075+10:00Leaving on a jet plane<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<br />At some ridiculous time tomorrow morning when it's still dark (as in really, <i>really</i> early morning!), I set off for the airport. I’m so OMG-excited! :-)<br /><br />We’re spending four nights in Singapore before hitting New York. I’ve not visited Singapore before and I’d love to set a story there—so we get to lose ourselves in a brand new city for a few wonderful days. How good does that sound? <br /><br />And then we’re catching the world’s longest haul flight from Singapore to Newark: 18 hours and 40 minutes. My friends’ eyes have all bugged when I’ve told them how long the flight is. But you know what? I finished my PhD earlier in the year, and I haven’t stopped since—chasing my tail and trying to catch up on all the things—and the thought of sitting on a plane with nothing to do except read a book, watch a movie, and to dream (and sleep) sounds like absolute heaven to me.<br /><br />I’ve had an epic to-do list to get done:<br /><br />* Finish first draft of next romance—check.<br />* Type up said first draft—um, not quite I’m afraid.<br />* Finish copyedits of my January release: The Maid, the Millionaire and the Baby—check.<br />* Check what bills will arrive while we’re away and pay them—check (gah, I think!).<br />* Make sure all taps are turned off nice and tight because some of them drip—check. Except this is unnecessary as a family member is housesitting for us and therefore will be here to check all drips and any irons and ovens left on. Peace of mind—happy sighs.<br />* Post a month’s worth of Beach Monday pics to my Facebook author profile, even though I’ll probably upload so many pictures from my holiday that Beach Monday pics will be superfluous. Nah…the beach is never superfluous, right?<br />* Write an acceptance speech in case the unthinkable happens—um…not yet, but there’s a very long plane ride, so…<br />* Pack—check.<br />* Download the ebooks I want to read while I’m away—check.<br /><br />So…can you think of anything I might have missed?<br />
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If you’re on Facebook or Instagram, I’ll be doing my best to share my trip while I’m away. But, never fear, I’ll share the highlights of my trip in my next post here. Happy July everyone!<br /><br />
<br />Michelle Douglashttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07748538761711892080noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2489168146200487747.post-84977495101657611702019-07-08T17:14:00.000+10:002019-07-08T17:14:06.493+10:00Festival Time<div class="MsoNormal">
Anyone who has followed this blog for a
while will know I used to be heavily involved with <a href="https://byronwritersfestival.com/" target="_blank">Byron Writers Festival</a>.
After the 2018 Festival, I stepped down as Chair. It was a bittersweet moment
as I loved heading up the Festival, but combining that with full-time work and a
writing career proved too much.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiznQxZD_yZt2eXMC_jCWgWJM_98fBOJLCGF23-dlO8qzmo2eub9UZIq5HWGX5X4CDfLWKVYTmp0L-FUnNdQx_idFoTs9M-e568BB7QB-fdDXurqFk5GMq0TlbBPfrPKspAX25j6fvLky4/s1600/Festival.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="149" data-original-width="339" height="140" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiznQxZD_yZt2eXMC_jCWgWJM_98fBOJLCGF23-dlO8qzmo2eub9UZIq5HWGX5X4CDfLWKVYTmp0L-FUnNdQx_idFoTs9M-e568BB7QB-fdDXurqFk5GMq0TlbBPfrPKspAX25j6fvLky4/s320/Festival.jpg" width="320" /></a><span lang="EN-US">The new program has just come out and once
again it is shaping up to be absolutely wonderful. Not only is there the three-day
Festival in a beautiful, beachside location, but also many satellite events and
workshops.</span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US">Some of the sessions I circled in the
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<ul><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSB0LyEtCouAt0Jii8fVl4kAoNxGtq3ZRVgeJmCb59_IFzhxtOIIkDm-zZszt40XGU4fAr0V1YZCPks6xYxHQJTNy83ILB2Ya6yNSICs04KmAy8VEEyzeJbP1uTrV91zHY324rcSEZp8Q/s1600/Festival+2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="194" data-original-width="259" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSB0LyEtCouAt0Jii8fVl4kAoNxGtq3ZRVgeJmCb59_IFzhxtOIIkDm-zZszt40XGU4fAr0V1YZCPks6xYxHQJTNy83ILB2Ya6yNSICs04KmAy8VEEyzeJbP1uTrV91zHY324rcSEZp8Q/s1600/Festival+2.jpg" /></a>
<li><span lang="EN-US">Writing Process: The Agony and
the Ecstasy with Isobelle Carmody, Karen Foxlee, John Marsden chaired by Nicole
Abadee</span></li>
<li><span lang="EN-US">AC Grayling on How Philosophy
has Changed History</span></li>
<li><span lang="EN-US">Markus Zusak in conversation
with Angela Ledgerwood</span></li>
<li><span lang="EN-US">David Gillespie on Teen Brains
with Mandy Nolan</span></li>
<li><span lang="EN-US">Landscape as Muse with Gail
Jones, Di Morrissey, Peter Watt chaired by Nicole Abadee.</span></li>
</ul>
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<span lang="EN-US">And that’s just Day One!</span></div>
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The Festival is being held on 2-4 August. Hope to <a href="https://byronwritersfestival.com/festival/" target="_blank">see you there</a>,
breathing the sea air, listening to the stories from around the country and around
the world.</div>
Jennifer St Georgehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15115014191040562984noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2489168146200487747.post-74807502551182130082019-07-03T06:00:00.000+10:002019-07-03T06:00:07.553+10:00The Reading Hour by Clare Connelly<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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I'm really struggling to dig my way through my TBR pile at the moment. Between the kids, school, designing our new house, and writing lots of words, I'm finding it really hard to get my reading time in. I don't really like to read fiction while I'm writing it, so I'm limited to non-fiction much of the time (I'm working my way through a fascinating book right now that's waaaay outside my usual proclivities). I find non-fiction stretches my brain without distracting me from the characters of my own creation, though it's a lot less gripping and therefore I can go days at a time without picking the book back up.<br />
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Up until about six months ago, I had a really good system. At 2pm every day, almost always without fail, I'd fold my laptop up and take to the sofa for my Reading Hour. Yes, a Reading Hour. I set an alarm on my phone for 3pm, because I would generally doze off at some point and that way I could be sure I wouldn't sleep through school pick-up time!<br />
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But in 2019, I've started walking every day, about 6k in the mornings. It's been amazing for my health, and for my writing because I use the time to plot up a storm, but it squeezes my writing time and makes it harder for me to adhere to a set Reading Hour because I find I have to work that bit later in the day, using every available minute. I read in the bath - I'm a recreational bather, give me bubbles, vino and a book and I'm happy! - but I'm still not getting through enough books.<br />
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What about you? Do you find you're reading as much as you'd like? Where do you squeeze your reading time into the day? How much do you read in a week? Maybe I'm just being too hard on myself but for someone who used to devour a Mills & Boon novel in a night, I'm finding my snail's pace very frustrating! And I have a permanent kindle bruise on my forehead from where I drop my kindle on my face as I fall asleep reading - tell me I'm not alone!?<br />
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<br />Clare Connellyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01284821138196684053noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2489168146200487747.post-15823842173483261402019-06-30T06:00:00.000+10:002019-06-30T06:00:12.662+10:00Sunday Smooch with Clare Connelly<div class="post-body entry-content" id="post-body-1595763231469200139" itemprop="description articleBody" style="caret-color: rgb(50, 50, 50); color: #323232; font-family: Georgia, Utopia, "Palatino Linotype", Palatino, serif; line-height: 1.5; position: relative; width: 558px;">
<span style="font-family: georgia, "times new roman", serif; font-size: 14.489999771118164px;">Welcome to another </span><span style="color: blue; font-family: georgia, "times new roman", serif; font-size: 14.489999771118164px;"><span style="font-weight: bold;">LoveCats DownUnder Sunday Smooch</span>!</span><br /><div class="post-body entry-content" id="post-body-2372361840676199994" itemprop="description articleBody" style="font-size: 15.214499473571777px; line-height: 1.5; position: relative; width: 558px;">
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<strong>One night isn't enough...</strong><span style="font-style: italic;">to initiate her into the world of sexual pleasure!</span></div>
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I enjoy the finer things in life – aged whisky, gourmet meals, beautiful women. So when sweet virgin Millie Davis propositions me, I vow we'll savour every moment...for longer than one night! Now, I'm tutoring her in exquisite physical passion. It's completely no-strings – love is too dangerous a game. But how can someone so innocent bring me to the brink of losing control?</div>
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Guys, this is a smooch from my latest Mills & Boon Dare HIS INNOCENT SEDUCTION, which is a super steamy and explicit line of romance (if you haven't read any yet, you should, they're fun and oh so hot!). But there are a few swears, sorry! So this smooch is taken from early on in the book when innocent Millie - who's sacrificed any kind of social life to care for her terminally mother AND earn her medical degree - propositions hot criminal barrister Michael Brophy to be her first...he has doubts about the sense of this, but she's determined to win him over!</div>
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<span lang="EN-GB">‘And my judgement is that I’m a twenty-three-year-old virgin who doesn’t want to be.’ She bites down on her pillowy lower lip and I groan. ‘Will you help me?’<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB">What’s wrong with me? Why the hell am I not just pulling her into my arms and fucking her right here? It wouldn’t be anything I haven’t done before, I think with a grimace. Is that it? Is there some kind of bullshit part of me that feels…undeserving…to be her first? Because my attitude to sex is generally so cavalier that I don’t want her virginity?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB">That’s madness, and it’s not me. Is it?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB">I have no idea why I’m hesitating.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB">I shake my head, as if I can mute my doubts that way.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB">‘Don’t,’ she murmurs, her hand lifting back to my throat. She smiles as she slides her fingers into the fabric, running them over my chest, to my shoulder. She lifts her legs, curling them over my lap, and I realise—belatedly—that she’s not wearing a seat belt.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB">I reach behind her, my arm brushing her breasts. ‘Buckle in.’ The words are gruff, like an order.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB">She doesn’t move, so I slide the seat belt around her, hooking it into the clasp. When I lift my head, her face is right there. And she’s smiling. A knowing smile. Because, for all I’m saying ‘no’, I think she feels my body, she feels my desire, she knows what I want. And it’s exactly what she’s suggesting.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB">‘Millie…’ The word is a warning. ‘You’re playing with fire.’<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB">‘Mmm…’ A throaty noise of agreement. ‘And I badly want to get burned.’<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB">I pull a face. ‘You’ve just got all the answers, haven’t you?’<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB">She shrugs, her slender shoulders dragging my eyes lower, to the curve of her breasts. Desire whips me from the inside out.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB">‘Sometimes.’<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB">‘So, answer me this. Why haven’t you slept with anyone?’<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB">She shakes her head from side to side, her eyes teasing. ‘I thought we decided that didn’t matter?’<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB">‘It matters to me.’<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB">‘Why?’<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB">‘I thought I was asking the questions?’<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB">‘Indulge me.’<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB">‘I like to understand people. So?’<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB">She arches a single brow, studying me for a moment, and then she smiles, a dazzling smile. ‘I’ve just never had the chance.’<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB">My eyes are locked to her smile, but my voice is pleasingly dismissive when I speak. ‘That’s the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard.’<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB">Something shimmers in the depths of her eyes, but then she shrugs. ‘If you don’t want to do this,’ she says, bringing her head closer to mine, her lips almost brushing against my mouth; I catch a groan in my throat, ‘you can get your driver to let me out just over there.’ She points her thumb to a strip of restaurants and bars. ‘I’m sure I’ll find someone else who’ll be only too happy to be my first…’<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB">Christ.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB">I’m not sure I should fuck her, but I know I absolutely don’t want anyone else to.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB">‘Let’s talk about it at my place.’<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB">Her laugh is throaty. ‘I don’t need to <span class="ITALIC" style="border: none; font-style: italic;"><span style="border: none;"><span style="border: none;">talk</span></span></span>about anything, least of all this.’<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB">‘You should be sure…’<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB">‘I’ve had weeks to make sure I’m sure.’ Her eyes run over my face, then drop to my body. ‘I want it to be you.’<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB">Her confidence is a turn-on, so too is her professed desire for me. But she has no idea what this would be like between us. I told her she’s playing with fire; doesn’t she see that?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB">Without any sign of my intent, I drop my head and kiss her. I crush my lips to hers, curving my hand around the nape of her neck, tangling my fingers in her hair as I hold her there, exposed to my kiss, utterly mine.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB">I feel her moan and smile against her lips. There’s heat in this kiss. So much heat. At first she’s timid but, as desire takes over and instincts overrule any thinking she might be doing—any thinking I’m doing—we’re just two people who want to fuck each other, in the back of the blackened limo.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB">I’m not in the business of sleeping with virgins, but maybe it’s time I re-evaluated that. Maybe for Millie I can make an exception.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB">Maybe it’ll even be more fun than I’ve had in a long while.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB">‘Come up and talk,’ I breathe into her mouth, breaking the kiss with true regret. And then, bringing my hand between her legs, brushing my thumb over the seam of her jeans, ‘I promise I’ll make it worth your while.’<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<a href="https://www.amazon.com/Innocent-Seduction-Guilty-Book-1000-ebook/dp/B07RCC1H9B/ref=sr_1_1?keywords=his+innocent+seduction+clare+connelly&qid=1561818114&s=gateway&sr=8-1" target="_blank">HIS INNOCENT SEDUCTION</a> is available now! Leave a comment to go into the draw to win a signed paperback (open internationally). xxClare Connellyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01284821138196684053noreply@blogger.com14tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2489168146200487747.post-42779579978301642062019-06-26T13:08:00.000+10:002019-06-26T13:18:45.739+10:00Never Have I Ever by Amy AndrewsHi, its Amy here clawing her way to the computer on her stomach, weary and exhausted from a very intensive week of writing and editing so this blog is going to be brief and basic so I can go back to bed and sleep for another 24 hours 😩<br />
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How about a round of - Never Have I Ever?<br />
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Here's my latest - never have I ever written a book that exceeded 100k!<br />
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That, my friends, is a big ass book! And why I'm exhausted esepcially as I write the last quarter in 4 days! The Trouble With Christmas will be out in October!<br />
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Now its your turn. What's your never have I ever?<br />
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Oh, and here's my new release coming out on July 15th! Click on the cover to take you to Amazon!<br />
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<a href="https://www.amazon.com/Kissing-Contract-Amy-Andrews-ebook/dp/B07PF632Q2/ref=sr_1_1?crid=163VW1TPSPO32&keywords=the+kissing+contract+amy+andrews&qid=1561518321&s=gateway&sprefix=the+kissing+con%2Caps%2C370&sr=8-1" target="_blank"><img alt="https://www.amazon.com/Kissing-Contract-Amy-Andrews-ebook/dp/B07PF632Q2/ref=sr_1_1?crid=163VW1TPSPO32&keywords=the+kissing+contract+amy+andrews&qid=1561518321&s=gateway&sprefix=the+kissing+con%2Caps%2C370&sr=8-1" border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="800" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxWUrRl6cosroFvCMIwbUU-BjHsuUL4uZCwgedsomMi7pyDVFDdsiucQ8Op4VDCWEjAzWg79lNED3MGmiDk3FlJIJfqCBVhXqwaaBA-D_c5yP9kpmf32pUD2xCl_C6tAc8XBDDQZEOctM/s640/KissingContract_800.jpg" width="425" /></a></div>
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<br />
Marshall Dyson wants one thing and
one thing only: to raze his grandfather’s island to the ground.
Everything is ready to go—except for the freakin’ bunnies! Hundreds of
the furry critters hopping about and multiplying before his eyes. And
then there’s the American Bunny League, along with one distractingly
beautiful veterinarian, taking him to court to save them...<br />
<br />
Dr.
Augusta “Gus” North can’t believe the grumpy—and annoyingly hot—builder
she’s facing in court cares more about demo-ing some cabin than the
lives of 200 bunnies. But when the judge orders Marshall to stay on the
island and help her rehome the rabbits—the entire month—she knows
they’re going to need to lay some ground rules.<br />
<br />
Like, for example,
absolutely no kissing. Might as well go ahead and get that in writing.
Sure it’s on a napkin, but that still counts. How hard could it
be to keep their hands off each other amidst all the fighting?
Surprisingly, harder than wrangling 200 bunnies...</div>
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<br />Amy Andrewshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12690419732247281048noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2489168146200487747.post-22993545368478217572019-06-24T13:08:00.000+10:002019-06-24T13:29:19.451+10:00The “everything” drawer – Kandy Shepherd<br />
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I’m the first to admit I’m not the tidiest person around. I try, I really do try to keep things organised and tidy, to de-clutter, but it’s a constant battle. I relate to the <i>Peanuts </i>character “Pig-Pen”—mess gravitates towards me!</div>
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I kept an old magazine for years that showcased actress Jamie Lee Curtis’s house. It was amazing. Everything sorted, placed, regimented. And the awesome Ms Curtis (I’m a big fan) interviewed, saying how good all that tidiness made her feel. I longed to be like her—how wonderful it would be to have my house look like hers. (Instead of fearing what might fall out and crash to the floor when I opened a cupboard door because of all the stuff randomly jammed in there!)<o:p></o:p></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I want to be like Jamie Lee Curtis!</td></tr>
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Then the lovely Marie Kondo with her book, <i>The Life-Changing Magic of Tidying Up </i>and subsequent television show, struck a chord. There’s a big emphasis on very neat folding. She suggests you discard anything that doesn’t “spark joy”. (Am I surprised to see Jamie Lee Curtis is a supporter of Marie Kondo? She actually says in this article for <i><a href="https://time.com/3822899/marie-kondo-2015-time-100/">Time</a> </i>magazine, that if she were to get a tattoo it would say “Spark Joy”!)</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Kondo style folding</td></tr>
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The message is—decluttering can be life-changing. The few areas of the house I have managed to declutter work so much better and are less stressful to negotiate. It works! (Least said the better about the other areas. And the books. Oh, the books. How difficult it is to get rid of books. Especially when you’ve written them yourself!)</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My pantry system needs some refining - but the intention is good!</td></tr>
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However, while I am attempting to change my deeply ingrained ways (even my school desk was always untidy!) there is one thing I am adamant about keeping—and that is my beloved “everything drawer”. </div>
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Do you have such a drawer/shelf/box into which every miscellaneous thing that doesn’t have an immediate home is tossed?<o:p></o:p></div>
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I’m bravely sharing my everything drawer with you here. <o:p></o:p></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4NpgZpwBdhFvbP5eB1GBrq53Z7hKAS8fmeNpcbH9PvLU3zGvf2PFUNeZCYc6Y1ovvgT7_PTsaLhREvCgwxGW_p95G57qfu_n7QNwLe4Frz1Ug2qCoV4SLIXPG0JozIAlqmznfbON0bPo/s1600/IMG_1008.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="256" data-original-width="192" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4NpgZpwBdhFvbP5eB1GBrq53Z7hKAS8fmeNpcbH9PvLU3zGvf2PFUNeZCYc6Y1ovvgT7_PTsaLhREvCgwxGW_p95G57qfu_n7QNwLe4Frz1Ug2qCoV4SLIXPG0JozIAlqmznfbON0bPo/s1600/IMG_1008.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Here it is in all its glory - my "everything drawer"!</td></tr>
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A quick survey of the top layer of my drawer: take-away menus from restaurants; rubber bands; flyers from tradesmen we might need one day; Band Aids for when it’s too difficult to hunt out the first-aid box; an apple slicer; a sample tile; some anonymous part from the fridge; plugs that don’t seem to fit any of our sinks but must or otherwise why would we have them; a kitchen timer that needs a new battery; spring -flowering bulbs I forgot to plant; string; a cute cat-shaped black board I’ve de-cluttered from the fridge door but still like; appliance instruction manuals that haven’t been put away in folder yet; a device that times boiled eggs; glue. And that’s just the top layer!</div>
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When I first lived with my husband he pronounced: “This has got to go!”<o:p></o:p></div>
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“To where?” I asked.<o:p></o:p></div>
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“Files,” he said sternly. “All this stuff put in order where we can find it.”<o:p></o:p></div>
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“Okay,” I said, after an initial feeble protest. After all, I knew where I could find it. <i>In the everything drawer!<o:p></o:p></i></div>
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After 30 years of living with me, he has wearily and silently conceded some of his hard-fought ground. No bills or invoices are ever allowed in the everything drawer. All the warranties and appliance instructions have their own folder in the everything drawer. Spare light bulbs must be in boxes. Yes, yes and yes. But everything else is randomly tossed in. <o:p></o:p></div>
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“Where are the spare batteries?” someone will inevitably ask. <o:p></o:p></div>
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“Do we have any sticky tape?” <o:p></o:p></div>
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“Aargh! My friend is allergic to cats. Any antihistamines?”<o:p></o:p></div>
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“Look in the everything drawer,” I serenely reply. <o:p></o:p></div>
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And inevitably what they are looking for is there!<o:p></o:p></div>
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It’s a great system. Maybe I should write a book about it…<o:p></o:p></div>
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Do you have an “everything drawer”? If you are a naturally tidy person, what can I learn from you? Do you declutter? We’d love to see your comments!<o:p></o:p></div>
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Kandy Shepherdhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16992773219169379298noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2489168146200487747.post-19004820745593761312019-06-19T00:00:00.000+10:002019-06-19T00:00:04.467+10:00Alpine Style – the things you discover on a research trip! By Annie West<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXGka-ic7sMF6fs_4tPe58qAP8gT2n7DExydFm6d2o1yTIxqRzYfQdvCR4xP8aFs91Z-QMN3Yh7EP6d8SZ9_kTcE_DxY-CTUgUFzFRGjV226Uypi8t6tkV8cZckPVPDaQ3WJapSdox3l_o/s1600/IMG_3268.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXGka-ic7sMF6fs_4tPe58qAP8gT2n7DExydFm6d2o1yTIxqRzYfQdvCR4xP8aFs91Z-QMN3Yh7EP6d8SZ9_kTcE_DxY-CTUgUFzFRGjV226Uypi8t6tkV8cZckPVPDaQ3WJapSdox3l_o/s320/IMG_3268.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Old houses in Brienz</td></tr>
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As some of you know I was recently in Europe for a couple of
weeks. I was lucky enough to attend a reader festival in France and also visit
some locations I thought would be useful for current and future books. If that
sounds like a convenient excuse for travel, I can tell you I’ve lost count of
the number of stories I’ve written that have been inspired by places, people,
events, traditions and stories that I’ve come across in my travels. Of course,
travel is fun too! <span style="font-family: "wingdings"; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-char-type: symbol; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-symbol-font-family: Wingdings;">J</span>
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The book I’m working on is set partly in the Alps.
Naturally, since I was in Europe it was a perfect time to explore there, soak
up the atmosphere and check a few things. </div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Window boxes</td></tr>
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But in addition to the very specific
things I wanted to find out for my story, of course I discovered a lot more. One
of those was the alpine affinity for wood! Not just for buildings but for so
much more. It’s used in everything from decorative flower boxes to fancy trim
on gorgeous alpine houses, water fountains, fences, signs and statues. Even for
fashion! </div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYmiTx2q0dHeOEVAD_2ovE5UHadVj6AAU3x2NjUh6Df4s-ejdt9lK94v5lQxd9xTPRih5hBNFPiIaEGGNUutc57gZByrmOeNrKl9FZMrsSBWBhgc8BKW1Ixw9fBmZlSatuVNZh_Kl8A0Il/s1600/IMG_2769.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYmiTx2q0dHeOEVAD_2ovE5UHadVj6AAU3x2NjUh6Df4s-ejdt9lK94v5lQxd9xTPRih5hBNFPiIaEGGNUutc57gZByrmOeNrKl9FZMrsSBWBhgc8BKW1Ixw9fBmZlSatuVNZh_Kl8A0Il/s320/IMG_2769.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">In case you can't read German and you're looking for a hotel - look for bears carrying luggage!</td></tr>
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Everywhere I looked there was something useful or pretty or downright quirky to admire.</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxRygmC08VRPlO-wItvRJHGwuvCvt9EqCHFIH5PHcpcIyqzOt-VpQhqsyc1Mj6P8-Hoc7P5B0pfzYfyr4VukRkgetCP-3JnQ3IhB3_usXRcub4QgNFoMD3zY9C9mRxYl8GtnTpYqQTe3c6/s1600/IMG_2806.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxRygmC08VRPlO-wItvRJHGwuvCvt9EqCHFIH5PHcpcIyqzOt-VpQhqsyc1Mj6P8-Hoc7P5B0pfzYfyr4VukRkgetCP-3JnQ3IhB3_usXRcub4QgNFoMD3zY9C9mRxYl8GtnTpYqQTe3c6/s320/IMG_2806.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Carvings for each hotel door.</td></tr>
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Have a look at these and see what you think. They’re all
taken around the small town of Brienz in Switzerland where I was lucky enough
to spend a couple of days. It turns out that Brienz is home to a <span style="background: white;">Schule für Holzbildhauerei</span>
or school for wood sculpture, so perhaps that explains the amount of wonderful
carvings I discovered there.</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQMKLWOtwBwuBskVeipUq7D4HMbUjKrTO3pzml2P6h3NcAku7L9QPGBF5Mv9ITv4SuQ1s5z5k8r_6FJ8J5MjP40etFmpfHC9ksbn5OdklgIUEIsQYQm070D8qgS9oa-6mqUaRiwjKeWB75/s1600/IMG_2792.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQMKLWOtwBwuBskVeipUq7D4HMbUjKrTO3pzml2P6h3NcAku7L9QPGBF5Mv9ITv4SuQ1s5z5k8r_6FJ8J5MjP40etFmpfHC9ksbn5OdklgIUEIsQYQm070D8qgS9oa-6mqUaRiwjKeWB75/s320/IMG_2792.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Sign for the wharf and lakeside cruises</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIXnluN_cWS-lDU1P-dYFb3DDG098kyuhiX2tnK5CndB8z4ksPbRNzy9Y0xJ68RjN5zhKcw8BVY59MDZN04dzRUyLKzGPW-wm-lQrBYhsNqp4IQ7GSnRmHOrzMPZVIo60BHEacuICj99BW/s1600/IMG_2797.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIXnluN_cWS-lDU1P-dYFb3DDG098kyuhiX2tnK5CndB8z4ksPbRNzy9Y0xJ68RjN5zhKcw8BVY59MDZN04dzRUyLKzGPW-wm-lQrBYhsNqp4IQ7GSnRmHOrzMPZVIo60BHEacuICj99BW/s320/IMG_2797.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">In case you want to go on an elegant stroll to the lookout</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2xtkpkET9O3b4NmiPneMyK730-1T9tOMLfKtjpxfKcIkANsNEOikoPwdaK4QwYOvhBSimmEn7dd5W5_RWX_y4R7N2ERi8k2JSxXl24V2qzq8Ye-xVDyoY070eKJp4i4IklPXyHfuxdk1e/s1600/IMG_2800.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2xtkpkET9O3b4NmiPneMyK730-1T9tOMLfKtjpxfKcIkANsNEOikoPwdaK4QwYOvhBSimmEn7dd5W5_RWX_y4R7N2ERi8k2JSxXl24V2qzq8Ye-xVDyoY070eKJp4i4IklPXyHfuxdk1e/s320/IMG_2800.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Or if you're looking for the beach</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCK2_x3sGmGpngNAV_L0jtE9KIl15UDIwEQMtvurzlzeGy61OWkqg1-XZTvaMI1hyphenhyphenir2YXWRSXp2g5wYoJ1mkODrGQqbYoJmD8Rth5LHZHWnv5JnZUTcVQsO8NQeWZtNbQsuNY2hDH2lSh/s1600/IMG_2791.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCK2_x3sGmGpngNAV_L0jtE9KIl15UDIwEQMtvurzlzeGy61OWkqg1-XZTvaMI1hyphenhyphenir2YXWRSXp2g5wYoJ1mkODrGQqbYoJmD8Rth5LHZHWnv5JnZUTcVQsO8NQeWZtNbQsuNY2hDH2lSh/s320/IMG_2791.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Or maybe you want to climb the Rothorn Mountain on foot, or better yet, on the steam cog railway</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_7GfIVOIpySeNK3MP5iCNpM-Isr1IHtS-J-NXXJxFP1mnFXI40UNXSZvjRHk_CL1DqsT78TET06WpATrbHZHTQ-y7BzaiLP2ysrAOX63XgxiHbbWG23-bYFt2XiTTsOo4w8-xFzhkswKx/s1600/IMG_3326.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_7GfIVOIpySeNK3MP5iCNpM-Isr1IHtS-J-NXXJxFP1mnFXI40UNXSZvjRHk_CL1DqsT78TET06WpATrbHZHTQ-y7BzaiLP2ysrAOX63XgxiHbbWG23-bYFt2XiTTsOo4w8-xFzhkswKx/s320/IMG_3326.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">When you get to the top there'll be someone waiting with an oil can to inspect the steam engine</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhk-zR49IgAXgWA9X7sQjdffgGkm3q5EeGCvEyMcZmtXa2TpwUCVCGD3rfrT1cx1fTO2J6xTEyD8OpEnzsYtqoyxhmhTnbSZPXs5LRHYa4TBals-bWZn3hP7Rbyq4hZoiLjsyBBTzMOS1q4/s1600/IMG_3250.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhk-zR49IgAXgWA9X7sQjdffgGkm3q5EeGCvEyMcZmtXa2TpwUCVCGD3rfrT1cx1fTO2J6xTEyD8OpEnzsYtqoyxhmhTnbSZPXs5LRHYa4TBals-bWZn3hP7Rbyq4hZoiLjsyBBTzMOS1q4/s320/IMG_3250.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Jolly life-sized locals by the lake</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7L-rK4RKhXkMjcCcXOr7dSWuLxI7DzSAuZ7UIReZZfEF-_NV-d1MpMwNMlkUxl8gvQGwhrpQYq2mcqmf69v_lWx4Zh6aBTajbPoZJMBR0RCMR6dv4I_bjkEOyw4cjVDCOHxg-Opz-uCp-/s320/IMG_2805.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" width="320" /></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">And for the fashion conscious - wooden bow ties!</td></tr>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7L-rK4RKhXkMjcCcXOr7dSWuLxI7DzSAuZ7UIReZZfEF-_NV-d1MpMwNMlkUxl8gvQGwhrpQYq2mcqmf69v_lWx4Zh6aBTajbPoZJMBR0RCMR6dv4I_bjkEOyw4cjVDCOHxg-Opz-uCp-/s1600/IMG_2805.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a><br />
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Several of the men in my family – father, uncle and
grandfather – were good with wood and I have a couple of treasured pieces of inherited
wooden furniture. Now I’m thinking I missed out at school when the boys learned
woodwork and I didn’t. <b><i>How about you? Do you like handmade wooden items or do
you prefer things more modern and streamlined? </i></b></div>
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<br />Annie Westhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16804740491737358014noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2489168146200487747.post-23920159353851157772019-06-16T00:00:00.000+10:002019-06-16T00:00:13.560+10:00Sunday Smooch winner!<br />
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<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWvwknO6zDsSshwh1LN6VGHMzL2f7m3Ys8DFCJpjWitZDpZgYo5sjgt1jS2VfTD2kmcV4ftsD-YnKDI6bzuJXy8nrBfx8fDXai9puGg-RLi17PynyLSeXQgvMjcTM4EwDHeKFzxC-zMTU/s1600/SundaySmooch.JPG" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWvwknO6zDsSshwh1LN6VGHMzL2f7m3Ys8DFCJpjWitZDpZgYo5sjgt1jS2VfTD2kmcV4ftsD-YnKDI6bzuJXy8nrBfx8fDXai9puGg-RLi17PynyLSeXQgvMjcTM4EwDHeKFzxC-zMTU/s1600/SundaySmooch.JPG" /></a><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">We don't have a Sunday Smooch scheduled for today, but the winner of last week's smooch and a copy of <i><b>A Baby in His In-Tray</b></i> is Pammie S.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"> </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"> </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Congratulations, Pammie!!!</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"> </span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhY6AT7ZGF3A7hXc8uPuwpC77_EoO3aShIodZIKbW63-iGY4By8AsHzbwoe_-S7iFMpBPizL8_xsDL6zZV2dM7Y1CT1HkX9U3PxvslLY32GDQ3GckrojWKALAdYaObZV43gNjLie_MyqqNJ/s1600/happy_dancing_cat.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="118" data-original-width="120" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhY6AT7ZGF3A7hXc8uPuwpC77_EoO3aShIodZIKbW63-iGY4By8AsHzbwoe_-S7iFMpBPizL8_xsDL6zZV2dM7Y1CT1HkX9U3PxvslLY32GDQ3GckrojWKALAdYaObZV43gNjLie_MyqqNJ/s1600/happy_dancing_cat.png" /></a></div>
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Send Michelle an email at michelle (at) michelle-douglas (dot) com to receive your prize. </div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"> </span></div>
Michelle Douglashttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07748538761711892080noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2489168146200487747.post-59983766369516169222019-06-12T00:00:00.000+10:002019-06-12T00:00:06.027+10:00I'm in a New York state of mind...<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2fjUwOG2sfHMI067vaBHUrY1iOhc-Vm4f6FL6mvB43k3DA_G6QZhWlUilG_QMjFxtuG9EDmHLfzVFD5XwZj8u5Q7JVuz8G_mFzeRf6QiCwJdETI9gixuWDu2GHBXCGacGuFjt3yR9_uyH/s1600/NewYork.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="640" data-original-width="480" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2fjUwOG2sfHMI067vaBHUrY1iOhc-Vm4f6FL6mvB43k3DA_G6QZhWlUilG_QMjFxtuG9EDmHLfzVFD5XwZj8u5Q7JVuz8G_mFzeRf6QiCwJdETI9gixuWDu2GHBXCGacGuFjt3yR9_uyH/s320/NewYork.jpg" width="240" /></a></div>
I’m pretty certain this isn’t going to come as a surprise to anyone, but I’m starting to get excited about my trip to New York next month (OMG next month!!!).<br />
<br /> I’ve jotted down a few must-see-and-dos:<br />
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* I want to visit a rooftop bar and sip something sophisticated while gazing out at the Manhattan skyline<br />
* See the Statue of Liberty<br />
* Walk in Central Park<br />
* Catch a Broadway show<br />
* Walk the High Line<br />
* Spend the day strolling through…well, I don’t really know—Greenwich Village maybe?<br />
* And I <i>have</i> to go to Katz’s Deli of <i>When Harry Met Sally</i> fame (I’ll have what she’s having). Actually, I'm going to have the pastrami on rye. ;-)<br />
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But I feel so disorganised. I’m madly writing my next book because I SO want to get the first draft done before I leave, and it’s taking up ALL of my time. I’ve barely started preparing for the trip. Actually that’s not completely true—the flights are booked and the accommodation is booked. But I’m talking about the nitty-gritty planning. I’ve bought a guidebook that I’ve thus far only managed to flick through (see the pic above). I’ve purchased a new toiletry bag because my old one fell apart…<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiB_UzXgO5bRIX6nqas4ige8-IXETNpcci2x4Ufa74PFZ6Vq9bEe-HO5WUtc4UMstEeOOic4kotet-M8acZg_5y8sq-Jv5jWT9fkM1HT7Cq_GKXVYZcOkaKkTEzigfXRtLzK1fVc-x4U9k4/s1600/Toiletry.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="640" data-original-width="480" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiB_UzXgO5bRIX6nqas4ige8-IXETNpcci2x4Ufa74PFZ6Vq9bEe-HO5WUtc4UMstEeOOic4kotet-M8acZg_5y8sq-Jv5jWT9fkM1HT7Cq_GKXVYZcOkaKkTEzigfXRtLzK1fVc-x4U9k4/s200/Toiletry.jpg" width="150" /></a></div>
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and I’ve bought a most excellent cross body bag that will hold my essentials when I’m out walking the streets of New York.<br />
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<br />I’m thinking that’s nowhere near enough preparation, right? <br />
<br />
I need help—I need travel tips. I need New York tips. <br /><br />Here are some things I’ve been told:<br />
<ul>
<li>Take lots of dollar bills for tipping</li>
<li>Visit the Met Cloisters</li>
<li>Become a member of New York City Library</li>
<li>Shop at Century 21</li>
</ul>
Do you have any other words of wisdom for me? I mean, is there anything specific I should try and buy in New York because I won’t be able to get it anywhere else?<br /><br />Plus what on earth do I pack to cover sightseeing AND the Romance Writers of America conference? (I mean, when I pack for the Aussie conference I take more for four nights that I take on a five week jaunt to Europe!) Can I get away with just taking three pairs of shoes—two pairs plus the ones I’m wearing? Or should I cover every eventuality?<br /><br />I know, I sound crazy right? I’ve promised Mr Douglas that I won’t pack the night before in a frenzy of panic. <i>I will be organised</i> (she says, taking a deep breath). Mostly though, I’m just crazy excited. <br /><br />Michelle Douglashttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07748538761711892080noreply@blogger.com17