What If

Where in the world do you get your ideas? That is the number one question I get from readers. My answer is simple. Life.

If you’ve read any of my published works, you’re probably saying yeah right. That really happened to you? My answer is, “Well, not all of it, but the catalyst for the story really did happen to me, or to someone close to me.”

Example, in ‘Obsessed By WildFire’ the heroine is a barrel racer. I was a barrel racer and have a few ribbons to prove it. My family’s barn burned at the hands of an arson. These memories among others were the sparks for the story.

In ‘His Witness to Evil, a tractor-trailer is stolen. My family is and has been in the trucking industry going on seventy years. I remember going with my father to the New York City Markets as a young girl and seeing the drivers sleeping in their cabs with their feet hanging out the window. Very few trucks had bunks then. You wouldn’t take a child into the markets today and you certainly wouldn’t sleep with your windows open. Heists occur.

‘In The Presence Of Evil’ deals with bank wire transfers being intercepted and sent to criminal accounts. Yes. It happened. How? It’s in the hands of the FBI to find out. Today, criminals don’t need to pick your home’s lock in order to rob you.

Catalysts for stories are everywhere and all I need to do is ask what if and my imagination takes off. It's as simple as that.

I haven’t shared info or an excerpt for Obsessed By Wildfire in a while, so here you go. OBW is a fun, sexy, contemporary with just a bit of suspense set in the heart of Texas. If you'd like a free digital download of Obsessed By Wildfire just join my newsletter.

Enjoy

Autumn



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Isobel Trinidad is her own woman. She vows no man will rope her into the humdrum life of a housewife and take away her dreams of becoming the National Barrel Champion like her father had done to her mother. Her mind is set, until a handsome Yankee comes to town and upsets everything she has believed.

Arson brings State Fire Marshal Warner Keyson to Mule Post, but a wildfire of a woman stops him in his tracks. Intrigued by Issy’s fire, he contrives ways to keep her close while conducting his investigation. What they create, which neither of them bargained for, is the blaze of a lifetime.
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Chapter One of 'Obsessed By Wildfire'

The sun had set.

Mini dust tornados swirled off the tires of Isobel Trinidad’s seen-better-days Chevy pickup. She maneuvered through the Blue Bug Saloon’s crammed lot at a less than safe speed, nearly taking the fender off of Suzie’s prized classic Mustang. Suz would scalp her next time she went into the Hair Crazy Salon to get the dead ends trimmed from her waist length hair. And she was partial to her raven locks.

A couple of orange cones flew as she reached her destination and slammed on the brakes. The pickup skidded to a stop in the no parking area in front of the double doors. She jammed her truck into park and shouldered the door open before the four-by-four’s engine stopped its final whine.

The neon light above the Blue Bug’s entry turned her white tank top a beautiful, light shade of sapphire and glazed her bare arms with an indigo tint.
Why hadn’t Chicky used blue? Blue was comforting. But no, he’d used gut-wrenching yellow. The town’s handyman knew she hated yellow. Why he’d even helped her spray paint her yellow taxi purple. The man didn’t listen. She hated men who thought they knew what was best for a woman when they had no clue.

Chicky left her no choice. She had to kill him.

She reached over the side of the truck, into the bed, and grabbed her lunge whip. It was the Thursday night before a holiday weekend and Mule Post’s hot spot was packed. Did she care? No. It just meant there would be a whole herd of witnesses to watch Chicky cower his way back to her spread and fix what he’d done while she’d been off checking out a promising two-year old stallion.

Her fingers curled around the leather strap in her hand. In the morning, she wanted to walk out on her front porch—the one that still needed a dozen or so floorboards replaced—look out over the hundred fifty-seven point eight acres she’d inherited from her Gran, sip her morning cup of tea and see anything but yellow wood siding. There still was no promise of rain in the forecast and a brilliant full moon hung over Mule Post. Chicky could paint in the dark.

White would be good.

She kicked up small puffs of dust as she rounded the truck’s front end.
Prickly pear green would be good.

“You know, you should be more careful.”

The late-night-radio voice stopped Isobel’s right heel from stomping the Blue Bug’s step. She turned. If it wasn’t for the fact her blood pressure was already at a dangerous level, it would’ve shot there staring into the cornflower blue eyes of this stranger. He was a good six inches taller than her five foot eight, broad at the shoulders and chest, trim at the waist and hips and from what she could tell by the stretch of his jeans, his package was where he got the gumption to face off with her while she was in a hellish ass-kicking mood.

There was no doubt he was a Yankee. He wore sneakers. No Texan would wear running shoes to go dancing. And his scent wasn’t leather, hay or old horse. She lifted her chin a notch, just a little, to let him know what he was about to take on. “Who are you?”

“Warner Keyson. You?” He folded his arms across his chest. His muscles bulged from beneath the rolled back sleeves of his white dress shirt. She’d seen bigger forearms—on a few NFL players.

“Isobel Trinidad.”

“Well, Ms. Trinidad, you could’ve caused some damage or killed someone the way you barreled in here.”

“The last time I heard, Raleigh was Mule Post’s chief and you’re not one of his officers. Besides everyone’s inside.”

“There could be a couple or two in the backseat of those cars. You know, enjoying the night.”

Warner Keyson’s warm caramel gaze drifted over her and Isobel’s legs buckled a degree before she roped off her reaction. Refusing to look away, she wrestled the urge to step closer and touch the cute dark lock that curled behind Mr. Keyson’s right ear. “Were you peeking in windows?”

“Nah, not peeking.” His full lips pulled up the tiniest bit.

Looking pass him, she scanned the cars. Had he been in the backseat of one of them? Had one of the local girls already run him down and claimed him?

“So what do you have in mind with that whip?” He broke her musing.

“Whip?” She’d forgotten she still had it in her grasp, and the reason why.
Chicky. Her fire to kill the devil with a paintbrush had taken a new direction. This blaze was much more alluring, but she had a ton and half of chores to do this weekend, starting with thrashing Chicky. She couldn’t be distracted by a weekend fling, not this weekend.

“I’m going to use it on a man who doesn’t listen. So if you don’t mind—”

He chuckled. “Not at all. You’ve got business to tend to and so do I.”

He took a step back and Isobel’s psyche tickled with disappointment. Was his business a half-naked woman waiting in his car? Longing for his strong arms to pull her close, feel his large hands travel over her body and help to unwrap his package?

“Goodnight, Isobel Trinidad.”

He’d said her name again, like he meant to remember it.

The Yankee smiled, turned and walked back through the dozens of cars. He had a damn fine flank side.

What brought Warner Keyson to Mule Post? Certainly wasn’t the rodeo. There wasn’t a bit of hayseed scent about the man.



Please note all material on this site is copyright protected by Autumn Jordon.

Valentine's Day In Mule Post, Texas

OBSESSED BY WILDFIRE

My readers wanted to know what happened to Isobel and Warner, so I decided to share one of their Valentine moments.
ENJOY the snippet!

Isobel slipped out of Warner’s truck and was immediately trapped by his hard body. Her shawl fell from her shoulders and Warner’s warm lips caressed her exposed bare skin. The man’s maleness wrapped around her senses, crushing her defenses into dust. Her knees buckled as tingles followed his assault over her dress’s thin strap, up the cord of her neck to the sensitive area under her lobe.

Tilting her head toward the snow moon, Isobel’s eyes drifted close. “We’re together six months and you still can’t wait until we get inside?”

“Remember our first date?” He mumbled against her ear.

“I’ll never forget. You wanted me so bad.”

He pulled back and chuckled. “I wanted you. You ripped my shirt off before I made it up the porch steps.”

“I think all the smoke you’ve inhaled while investigating fires has affected your memory, Yankee.” With her hands splayed on his hard chest, she pushed him back. “Why don’t we head in and I’ll show exactly how you assaulted me.” She entwined her fingers with his and started toward the house only to be yanked back.

“I need to show you something first.” Grabbing both her hands, Warner backpedaled toward the barn.

“No. I’m not dressed for the loft.”

“Trust me.”

Isobel laughed. “I’m in trouble if I do that.”

Warner rolled back the barn door and hit the light switch.

Lizzy whinnied.

Isobel took a moment to give the mare now completely blind in her right eye a treat of winter apple. As the horse’s soft muzzle tickled her palm, Isobel wished she’d find another horse as great as Lizzy was at the barrels and as pretty as the Appaloosa she’d seen at auction last week.

“Come on.” Warner’s hot breath brushed her ear.

Her new dress would smell of straw and beast if Warner had his way. The gravel floor crunched as Isobel dug her FMN cowgirl boot heels into its firmness. “No way I’m going to make out—”

A nicker drew Isobel’s attention to a stall that should be empty. “What was that?

She peered through the bars at the handsome Appaloosa colt she’d lost to a higher bidder at the auction. Her heart thumped under her breast. “I don’t understand. How?”

Warner’s eyes danced with wicked joy. “I knew how much you wanted him. Happy Valentine’s Day, sweetheart.”

Isobel laced her fingers around Warner’s neck and pulled him closer. “Yankee, you’re going to get your shirt ripped off again.”

I'm Addicted

I love reading. I read everything. The receptionists in the doctors’ offices I patron all know me as the woman who will pick up free flyers, after magazines, after newspapers and sit away from the patients and read. And, I bring my kindle with me. (Well, I usually take the free flyers home with me.)

More than once, people have nearly stumbled over me in the aisle at B&N because I will just sit on the floor and search for the perfect book to take home with me.

My dear husband has given up on telling me that I don’t need the free real estate booklets that are found at the exit of the grocery store, or the free local ‘What’s Happening’ county papers. Hey, there is interesting stuff in there.

And, BTW, I read the register tape on the way home.

Reading is an addition I tell you. There I’ve said it. And it’s not one I’m looking to get rid of. EVER!

I thank my mother for reading to me. I thank my teachers for helping me learn to read. I thank the librarians who offered up wonderful suggestions and fueled my desire to read, and continue to do so. I thank the storytellers that brought adventures beyond my wildest imagination to my world. I hope someday someone will think of me in the same way.

With that said, I think I’ll buy the grandchildren new books today, gift a book to a follower who has been a supporter of my work and continue to write the next book.

And for anyone (over 18) who leaves a comment along with their email addie this week (Feb 25 - March 3, 2012), I'll enter you into a contest for an e-copy of Obsessed By Wildfire. If you don't feel comfortable posting your email address, send it to me at autumnjordon@yahoo.com and put blog contest in the subject line. I'll announce the winner on March 4, 2012 by 6 pm EST. Good luck and please pass the info on. WINK

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Review for Obsessed By Wildfire

My-oh-my, do they make things hot in Wayback or what? This isn’t my first journey to the Texas town, and you can guarantee after reading the newest story, Obsessed By Wildfire, it won’t be my last.

Due to mind-blowing chemistry and fantastic dialogue, the sex scenes positively sizzle. You’ll laugh, you’ll wriggle and squirm, and when things get dangerously hot, you’ll hover on the edge of your seat.

To read the entire review go to: http://www.longandshortreviews.com/LASR/recentrev.htm



Excerpt from OBSESSED BY WILDFIRE By Autumn Jordon
(copyrighted material do not duplicate)

Her fingers curled around the leather strap in her hand. In the morning, she wanted to walk out on her front porch—the one that still needed a dozen or so floorboards replaced—look out over the hundred fifty-seven point eight acres she’d inherited from her Gran, sip her morning cup of tea and see anything but yellow wood siding. There still was no promise of rain in the forecast and a brilliant full moon hung over Wayback. Chicky could paint in the dark.

White would be good.

She kicked up small puffs of dust as she rounded the truck’s front end.

Prickly pear green would be good.

“You know, you should be more careful.”

The late-night-radio voice stopped Isobel’s right heel from stomping the Blue Bug’s step. She turned. If it wasn’t for the fact her blood pressure was already at a dangerous level, it would’ve shot there staring into the cornflower blue eyes of this stranger. He was a good six inches taller than her five foot eight, broad at the shoulders and chest, trim at the waist and hips and from what she could tell by the stretch of his jeans, his package was where he got the gumption to face off with her while she was in a hellish ass-kicking mood.

There was no doubt he was a Yankee. He wore sneakers. No Texan would wear running shoes to go dancing. And his scent wasn’t leather, hay or old horse. She lifted her chin a notch, just a little, to let him know what he was about to take on. “Who are you?”

“Warner Keyson. You?” He folded his arms across his chest. His muscles bulged from beneath the rolled back sleeves of his white dress shirt. She’d seen bigger forearms—on a few NFL players.

“Isobel Trinidad.”

“Well, Ms. Trinidad, you could’ve caused some damage or killed someone the way you barreled in here.”

“The last time I heard, Raleigh was Wayback’s chief and you’re not one of his officers. Besides everyone’s inside.”

“There could be a couple or two in the backseat of those cars. You know, enjoying the night.”

Warner Keyson’s warm caramel gaze drifted over her and Isobel’s legs buckled a degree before she roped off her reaction. Refusing to look away, she wrestled the urge to step closer and touch the cute dark lock that curled behind Mr. Keyson’s right ear. “Were you peeking in windows?”

“Nah, not peeking.” His full lips pulled up the tiniest bit.

Looking pass him, she scanned the cars. Had he been in the backseat of one of them?
Had one of the local girls already run him down and claimed him?

“So what do you have in mind with that whip?” He broke her musing.

“Whip?” She’d forgotten she still had it in her grasp, and the reason why.

Chicky. Her fire to kill the devil with a paintbrush had taken a new direction. This blaze was much more alluring, but she had a ton and half of chores to do this weekend, starting with thrashing Chicky. She couldn’t be distracted by a weekend fling, not this weekend.

“I’m going to use it on a man who doesn’t listen. So if you don’t mind—”

He chuckled. “Not at all. You’ve got business to tend to and so do I.”

He took a step back and Isobel’s psyche tickled with disappointment. Was his business a half-naked woman waiting in his car? Longing for his strong arms to pull her close, feel his large hands travel over her body and help to unwrap his package?

“Goodnight, Isobel Trinidad.”

He’d said her name again, like he meant to remember it.

Love Scene; Love Them Or Hate Them?

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Who loves a good love scene?

I do too, but lately while reading, I find myself flipping pages and skipping over them. Why?

And why are there books on my shelves that will fall open to the love scenes?
I pass over some love scenes and devour others because of the characters. It’s that simple. The author made me love the characters. While reading the stories I became invested in their lives and their dreams. I would refer to them by name instead of the heroine and hero when telling others about the story. I wanted the woman to find the man of her dreams because, damn, she deserved a good man. And I want the man to realize she was the piece of his heart he’d been searching for all his life. I wanted the perfect-for-each-other couple to come together as one. (excuse the pun)

The thing about love scenes, when the author has written remarkably real characters and has me totally invested, I don’t need the total physical description of mating for me to enjoy the story. A scene leading up to a hungry first kiss with the door closing shortly afterwards will leave me just as satisfied. In fact, leaving the details of the physical connection to my own imagination is sometimes much better. I hate slot A into slot B writing.

So what is your opinion— What makes a good love scene for you? And do you prefer the door to remain open?

Not A Stitch

A good percentage of romance novels have scenes where the character’s clothes are ripped off in a passionate rush. You’ve read them. You’ve pictured them in your mind. One shoe kicked off here. Another left behind there. Jackets and blouses tossed over the banister. Skirt and jeans left mid-stairway. A bra dangling from the hall sconce. Rumpled boxers and panties at the bedside. You get the picture.

As an author, how many times have you written in a fever toward the ultimate moment only to realize you didn’t dress the characters to begin with? Jill and Jack were walking and talking or even horseback riding through the scene a’ natural.

You might think this blog is only about dressing your characters—it’s not. Read on.
I’m sure everyone reading this blog has read a book that stayed with them for years? One so rich that it was truly unforgettable for them? Great writing has details woven into the story in such a way that they’re not intrusive but still nudge the reader’s memories, bringing the story and characters to life, and engaging the reader.

Visual details are usually the first particulars integrated into our writing. We give our characters faces, hair and eye color, physical descriptions, and clothing. We layer in setting details. When adding visual detail, our hero becomes not just a strapping man, but a strong man who has been injured and walks with a limp. A room is not just four blank walls, but is shown to be a small, oblong room with peeling green paint and cracked ceiling tiles. Visual details should be specific and serve a purpose. A ship is a dinky, luxury liner or aircraft carrier. All are different. All tell something about the story and our characters.

Auditory details are the next most common elements used in writing. Sounds remind us of personal memories, creating images in our minds. Recalling the sound of waves crashing against jagged breakers, reminds me of one of my own favorite vacations. Children giggling brings back the memories of my own children at a younger age plotting against me. A character’s word choice or the cadence of their dialogue is another way to add detail.

Touch leads us to investigate the world around us. Through touch we learn the texture, shape, and size of things. By describing familiar tactile sensations, we encourage our readers to put themselves in the place of the characters, like wiping away of a tear or brushing of lips across a cheek.

The sense of smell is commonly overlooked in writing. It is the one sense most closely linked to memory, because the receptors in the brain responsible for processing smells are close to the area of the brain responsible for the storage of memory. Scents trigger thoughts and emotions.

Taste is also a sense that is forgotten by novice writers. Taste (sweet, sour, bitter or sour) jars a reader’s memory and allows them to recall people, feelings and places associated with the taste. Midnight Martini’s now remind me of my niece’s wedding and how beautiful it was, and how in love the young couple looked, and the way my husband held me close while dancing. Taste is a powerful tool and definitely should not be forgotten.

The more we cause our readers to draw on their memories the more memorable our stories will be.

I’ve heard the five senses should be on every page. Do you think that is possible?

Draggers With Dessert

Monday March 7, 2011

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If you could have dinner with anyone dead or alive, who would you pick?

I was asked this question recently in an interview and I choose an undercover female agent. Okay, the picture isn't of a female, but the hard abs got your attention. Okay, back to the question. Why would I want to dine with a female? Because I love and write romantic suspense novels and one day I’ll write a story with a spy as my heroine. I’d love to know how she really ticks, not just what I assume from watching movies or sitcoms or reading novels.

I’m really curious how anyone can give up their life, walk away from family and friends, and put themselves at risk, living with danger every second. The thought of not talking to my best friend, who is my dear husband BTW, whenever I want, or not being able to be there when a family member or friend desperately needs me makes me say, “No. I don’t think the job is for me.” Holidays would either kill me or I’d blow my cover for sure.

What about children? I know not every woman wants children, but what if she did? So many questions come to my mind concerning that subject.

I also wonder what their long term goals are, or dreams. We all picture ourselves in that far off future to some degree. We’re retired, enjoying activities that we put on hold for decades and just spending our Golden Years as we want, without looking over our shoulders for someone who might recognize us and drag us in for interrogation.

I’m sure as they were growing up, they didn’t think, I want to be a spy one day. Or did they?

I wondered about their schooling and training. How are they paid? Do they get vacation days? And if so, what name do they use?

I have a thousand questions I’d love to have answered, and more would probably surface in my tiny brain before we’d ordered our chocolate mousse. (We are women so chocolate would be involved.)


So, if you could have dinner with anyone who would it be and why?

Friday Friend Melissa Ohnoutka

Today, I’m so excited to welcome my good friend Melissa Ohnoutka who just published her debut novel Faithful Deceptions. Melissa and I met a number of years ago during a Margie Lawson class and the rest is friendship history. You’re going to love her, and I’m sure anxious to hear more about her journey and Faithful Deceptions. Grab a glass of champagne, welcome her and remember to leave a comment. Melissa is giving away a prize.

Melissa, Can you tell my readers a little about yourself? I know you love camping and hosting sleepovers for your children’s friends. How do you find time to write?

First, thanks for having me! I can't believe how long it's been since Margie's class. This first one is a great question. Time is the one thing I wish I could manage better. I'm not very organized and seem to be happiest when I've got several things going on at once. The writing comes in spurts. I'll have two good weeks of great productivity where everything falls into place and then nothing. I think this is why I love participating in NANOWRIMO. (National Novel Writing Month) It helps me realize that even with birthdays, Thanksgiving and Christmas shopping, I can find the time needed to write if I just focus. And the writing without rules and worrying about editing is so awesome!

BLURP for Faithful Deceptions:

Money dictates the rules of this game and the victim could be anybody— regardless of sex, age, or race.

When high-end antiques dealer, Hailey Devlin, discovers her business partner's boyfriend has bankrupted their company, she sets out to expose the thief. Unknown to Hailey, her target is involved in a brutal trafficking ring where human lives are sold off to the highest bidder and she fits the next customer's order perfectly. She awakens to a world she can't remember. An alluring man claims to be her husband-a man who seems both to want and reject her. Is this amnesia or something much more sinister?


ICE Agent Patrick Roark jumped at the chance to put his training to the test on an elite human trafficking squad of Homeland Security. Undercover as the bodyguard to the ring leader, and key suspect in a murder case, proves more than he bargained for. Masterminding a clever deception, he's determined to keep the next victim safe—even if the high-stakes operation costs him everything-including his heart. Can they survive a killer's wrath? And if they do, will the lies be too damaging for their love to endure?

AJ: Faithful Deceptions sounds like an intriguing romantic suspense. Can you tell us more about the story? What inspired it? And are there any story elements based on real life experiences?

Inspiration…let's see. This book is actually my third romantic suspense. I was working on another story when a miniseries on Lifetime called "Human Trafficking" aired back in 2005, starring Mira Sorvino and Donald Sutherland. Something clicked on in my brain as I watched the movie. I sat down when it was over to write out a quick outline of the story bouncing around in my head. Once I started, I couldn't stop. The other story was put on hold until I finished Faithful Deceptions. And to answer the second part of the question: Thank goodness there are no real life experiences to draw on with this one. LOL


AJ: Did you have to do special research for the story?

I researched a lot about the human trafficking, mainly for my own knowledge on the subject. I don't go into great detail about it in the book. It's a horrifying reality.

AJ: What do you love about your heroine and hero?

I feel like my heroine and hero are really well matched in this story. They both have a lot to learn about dealing with their guilt and anger, and more importantly forgiveness. I enjoyed watching their characters develop over the span of the story.

AJ: Will we see another story from you soon? And can you give us a hint of what it’s about?

Yes, I'm working on edits for my next release right now. Target of Betrayal is the first book I completed and I'm hoping to have it ready for this summer. I believe this is the one you helped me on during Margie's class.  Here's a short blurb:
Kathleen Landon thought her life would finally get back to normal after the bizarre death of her husband. But a "chance" meeting with an old boyfriend throws her and her family on a dangerous and emotional journey full of secrets and betrayal. Her husband's death wasn't an accident, but an attempt to cover up a horrendous crime spree being operated by a traitor inside the FBI. Now she and her children are running from a cold-blooded killer. Can she trust the U.S. Marshal sworn to protect them. Or is he using her as bait to capture her husband's killer?

AJ: Would you share an excerpt of Faithful Deceptions?

Sure.

Excerpt from Faithful Deceptions

“Hailey. Open your eyes, sweetheart.”

A burning sensation ripped through her insides. Where am I? Why is it so dark?

Precious seconds passed as she tried the simple action of just swallowing. Why couldn’t' she move, speak?

And oh, the pain.

No matter how hard she tried, Hailey's efforts to focus and lift her eyelids fell short. It felt as if she was being pulled though an opening much too small. Jagged pieces, pointed, razor sharp, scraping and cutting at her tender flesh as she tried to regain consciousness.
>

Oh, no. What’s happening to me?

Death’s icy fingers laced around her heart as the empty void expanded further and tormented her soul. A part of her wanted to quit, to give in and find the peace she knew was just beyond her reach. But somewhere, somewhere deep within, the will to live grew stronger. Wouldn't let her cross over.

“Hailey?”

In the deep recesses of her mind, a glimmer of hope flickered. Someone was calling her name. She could hear them, sense their presence. But they sounded so far away. Their voice drifted in and out, the way the ocean flows beyond all boundaries of time and space on a solitary seashore.

Oh, dear God. Why couldn't she think straight?

I’m here. I can hear you. Alarm spread over her as she tried to lift a finger to alert them she was still alive. Not one tiny muscle even flinched. She may be able to hear them, but the person made no indication they knew of her receptiveness.

This isn’t happening, she thought, feeling her chest rise and fall with rapid repetitions. Don’t panic. Not yet.

Focus already. Just focus.

AJ: And where can we find you on the web? And can you share buy links for Faithful Deceptions?
Right now "Faithful Deceptions" is available at

Amazon http://tinyurl.com/68z7olw

Barnes & Noble - http://productsearch.barnesandnoble.com/search/results.aspx?WRD=faithful+deceptions&page=index&prod=univ&choice=allproducts&query=faithful+deceptions&flag=False&ugrp=2

The print copy will be out soon as well.



You can find me at:

www.melissaohnoutka.com
www.everybodyneedsalittleromance.com on Mondays
http://melissaohnoutka.blogspot.com/

Thanks again for having me, AJ! It's been great fun! I'm giving away a $10.00 Amazon gift certificate Saturday morning for one lucky commenter! So please leave your name and email address when you comment so I can get it to you if your name is drawn.

Best wishes to all,
Melissa

Don't Do It!

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After watching the faces at the Oscars last night, I pondered this question. Did you ever wonder why your dreams come true for someone else?

Watching them walk away with everything you’ve worked towards can suck the life and creavity out of you, make you lose vision of who you are, and change the course of your life. But what if you both shared the same dream? Do you compare yourself to that person and wonder why them and not you? Do you resent them for their success?

Don’t do it! We all have paths to follow, and each journey is littered with obstacles and pit stops to negotiate. My path might mirror yours for a while, but then branch off in a different direction. Or, I might need to take a break while you continue on. Then again, one of us could meet someone who speeds us like lightening toward our goal.

Whatever the reason, we can’t and shouldn’t compare ourselves. I am who I am and I’m on my path, and you are who you are and on your own journey. What is important is that we believe in ourselves, never stop dreaming, and never stop working toward making our dreams come true.

www.autumnjordon.com

Obsessed By Wildfire is 1

Cursor. If you've visited my blog before, you know I always start with cursor. It's my trigger to get things started. If this is your first visit, welcome. I hope you enjoy my post.

This week I'm celebrating both Valentine's Day and Obsessed By Wildfire's one year anniversary by sharing a spicy excerpt and awarding one lucky winner an e-copy of Obsessed By Wildfire. All you need to do is leave a comment and answer this question; Do Isobel and Warner fall in love? The winner will be announced on Friday evening 5 pm EST, just in time for the weekend. GRIN So have some cyber-champagne and enjoy!

I hope the excerpt warms up your Valentine's Day. (Disclaimer: The excerpt is spicy)

Obsessed By Wildfire

Coming up on her ranch, Isobel slapped the turn signal down and maneuvered her truck and horse van through the gate to her driveway. The house lights, set on timers for ten o’clock, clicked on as she pulled up to the barn.

Yup, that’s what she’d do after she fed Lizzy. She’d invite Warner into the house and have her way with him. One night of hot, sweaty sex and she’d be completely over the guy.

As she turned off the ignition, Isobel looked out her side mirror again and saw Warner unfold from his car. He swaggered toward her, tucking his shirttail into his tight jeans, chin held high, shoulders squared, purpose in his eyes. Reminded her of a proud lion about to make his move. He had something on his mind as well.

She unsnapped her seatbelt the moment Warner opened her door. On a light breeze, his musk rolled over her, arousing her, playing with her senses.

He looked around the grounds. “You’ve got a nice place here. Yellow barn and all.”

“Don’t start.” Isobel remained seated. Perched on the seat of a four by four, she still had to look up at him. “The place needs a lot of work. I inherited it from my grandmother last year.”

“Then you don’t live with your parents?”

The muscular cords of his left arm stretched as he held the door frame. The space between them grew steamy. “No. Why would you think I live with my parents?”

“I don’t know. Big ranch. Beautiful tiny woman.”

“I’m not beaut—”

“Yes, you are and you know it.”

Under the cab light and Warner’s gaze, Isobel’s cheeks and heart warmed. The Yankee wasn’t throwing her a line. He actually thought she was beautiful.

“So we’re alone?” His gaze drifted, first to her lips and then lower, making every nerve in her body zing.

“No one within miles.” She dropped her demure gaze to his crotch and her body tightened. Yeah, he wanted her. There was the hard evidence. Evidence that made Isobel wonder if one night would be enough to satisfy her desires. “Should I be nervous?”

“Are you?”

She licked the want from her lips. Definitely a long weekend would be needed to take care of her itch. “No.”

Lizzy whinnied.

“I should get her out of the trailer.”

“I make you nervous.”

“No you don’t.”

“Liar.” Warner grabbed her and spun her around on the seat, stepping in between her legs. “What do you think you’re doing?” His strong forearms flexed under her palms while his hands cupped her face. The rough pads of Warner’s thumbs brushed her cheekbones. He leaned into the cab and softly said, “Exactly what you want me to do.”

His mouth covered hers, tenderly at first, but a building urgency was not far behind. Hot desire rushed through Isobel’s veins and pooled between her legs.

Wanting to feel all of him, Isobel ran her hands up his arms, over his broad shoulders and to his back, pulling him closer. She melted against Warner, crushing her breasts against his chest. His thigh spread her legs while their kiss deepened.

Lizzy whinnied again. This time louder. The horse’s hoofs pounded the trailer floor. The motion rocked Issy against Warner and she moaned. With her hands on his shoulders, breathless, Isobel pushed back and licked Warner’s taste from her lips. “I’ve got to take care of her. It’ll only take me a few minutes and then we can continue this in the house.”

“Are you sure?”

“If you don’t finish what you’ve started, I might burst into flames.”**** Can't wait to read more you can buy Obsessed By Wildfire here OBW or at Amazon and if you're selected as my winner, you can request the file be sent to a friend.

Happy Valentine's Day. AJ

Cabin Fever 101

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Valentine’s Day is less than a week away and it seems everyone is talking about it. Well, I’m not going to.

Let’s talk Cabin Fever 101 instead.

Those of you who know me, know I love winter. I love everything about it, except for the short daylight hours and ice on highways. I can handle snow without problems. But this year, I’m anxious for spring to pop. I guess maybe I’m getting a touch of cabin fever.


I’ve come up with a few things that make me feel better.

1)Get outside when you can. Shovel, walk or just play in the snow. It’s amazing how making and throwing a snowball can make you feel. You’ll bring back memories you’ve buried and get a little exercise in the process.

2)Shut off the TV and put on some music. Turn it up and dance.

3)Exercise and stretch in the sunlight. You’ll break a sweat like it’s a summer day.

4)Grab a cookbook and make one of those recipes that you always say you don’t have time to make. Practice a dish you’ll take to those summer picnics and get a WOW. Once you do this, you’ll do it again.

5)There is always a home project that needs to be done and we always say if I had the time to do this I would. Like clean out the closets. Now is the time. Get ready for the spring outfits.

6)Plan your garden and order your seedlings.

7)Plant some seeds or bulbs in pots. I’m doing cuttings off of impatient s I brought in last fall and planting herbs. I love the smell and taste of fresh basil and oregano. Spring will be yours in a few weeks.


8)Detail your car. Yup. Salt is bad for a car. Yeah, yeah, I know. You’re saying it’ll only get dirty again. Sure it will but one layer is easier to clean off than two or three.

9)Take a calendar and mark down projects that need to be done throughout the year. If you noticed a draft near a window, put it on the calendar to caulk the window as soon as the weather allows.

10)Clean up your golf clubs, and carefully putt in a safe area of your house. Check the pressure in your basketball and dribble. Practice your tennis swing off the garage wall. If there is a will, there is a way.

To combat cabin fever we need to get up off our butts and move. Get the blood circulating. Get our mind that has been hibernating thinking, and enjoy and use the time of year.

So my question today is how do you combat the anxiety of cabin fever?

Welcome 2011

Happy New Year!! I hope everyone had an awesome holiday. Mine was good despite having a sinus infection between Christmas and New Years. Looking on the bright side, I got some much needed rest, read a book, watched several new movies and actually lost a few pounds instead of gaining them.

So have you made your New Year's resoluations? I haven't. I'm giving them some thought and hope to narrow them down this week. I made 8 out of 10 goals last year, which I'm really excited about. At the end of 2011, I would to say I've made all my goals. In fact, I'd like to say I surpassed them, so I'm going to take a few more days to think about them and how I'll approach achieving them.

Planning on how to achieve them is important. Do you know how daunting it sounds to say I'm going to write a book this year? But if you say, I'm going to write a book this year and this is how I plan to do it, in steps, fifty pages a month. It doesn't sound so intimidating, does it? Fifty pages is doable, right? I think so.

So take a moment or two and make a plan to make the goals you're setting.

Have a great day and stop back. Besides reading my notes, you can connect with some great authors on my Friday Friends posts. I have wonderful guests lined up starting this Friday, January 7th with Cara Marsi. You will love her. I promise. WINK.

I Think I Can. I Really Do.

The end of the year is right there in front of me. December sits at the bottom right hand corner of the November calendar with the holidays marked in vivid red.
New Year’s Eve among them—the date most of us set goals for the coming year.
Last December, I sat ten goals for myself. While I achieved many of them, (Woohoo), I still have a few that I really want to accomplish before the clock ticks down on the year. Can I do it? Maybe.

But even if I don’t make the all the goals, or just miss the target, like loose another ten pounds or finish the book, it’s alright. I might lose five more pounds or only need to write the ending, and hey, I’ll take it.

The thing about goals, while it’s the carrot dangling out that is the big prize we need to remember the journey toward the reward is more important. We’re striving to change bad habits, or overcome demons, or just make ourselves and the world a better place. It’s hard work and nothing is accomplished over night. The journey has to be rewarding, otherwise the goal will never be achieved.

I worked on all my goals throughout 2010. Ten of them. I’m happy that I kept them in the forefront of my mind and achieved six of them. I made time for my friends and family-the benefits have been wonderful. I tightened my belt and ask myself ‘Do I really need this before making purchases’. Doing so has helped keep our expenses under control during a year where watched two sons marry. I cleaned out a good portion of my house and got rid a dumpster of clutter. I don’t miss I thing. I also finished and submitted my next book, which lead to a contract. All this was accomplished in baby steps which I practiced every day. I’m close to achieving two others, but last two… Well, I’m not giving up, but I’m going to enjoy myself while trying, and if I make them, ‘Yeah!’ , and if I don’t, ‘Yeah! I took steps toward the prize.’

Come December 30th , 2010, when I make my goals for 2011, those two goals will be tweaked and on the top of my list.

It’s never too late to start working toward your goal. Enjoy the journey!

The Winner of $50.00 B&N Certificate is..

First, I'd like to thank everyone for helping me get the word out about Evil's Witness. You were AWESOME! There were quite a few of you entered. GRIN And a number of people entered mutiple times. Yeah you!

The last two weeks have been amazing. Evil's Witness received it's first review from Night Owl Reviews. Here is what NOR said...

This is a good romantic suspense novel by Ms. Jordon. There was a lot of physical action and the romance was spicy enough to keep the story interesting....The romance between John and Stephanie was genuine and very well incorporated into the story. I look forward to reading more of Ms. Jordon’s work.

I'm so happy she wants to read another story. Maybe she'll review Obsessed By Wildfire. Hmmm.

My blog tours continue and I'm giving away more prizes. Where I'll be is listed on my website under news. So jump over there and mark the dates down.

Now for the drawing. I'm reaching into my basket and drawing a name...


Drum Roll

Wanda Flanagan

Yeah Wanda!!! I hope you use part of the $50.00 to buy Evil's Witness. Please contact me at autumnjordon@yahoo.com so that I can get your snail mail addie.

Thanks again everyone for making my debunte AWESOME. Have a wonderful holiday.

(((HUGS)) AJ

American Idol Judges Wise Or What?

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Last night, I watched American Idol. Not a big deal, right? Millions do every week.

What I found interesting was the judges’ comments to the contestants. After each performance, every single time, one or more of the judges either said, you need to find out who you are, or, you know who you are. The five contestants who heard you need to find out who you are, disappointment wiped away their smiles. The light, which had illuminated from them when they took the stage, seemed to fade, quickly. In their eyes, you saw the plea for help, your vote, so that they might have one more chance to show the world they know who they are and will achieve their dreams.

I felt sorry for them. I understood them.

Finding out who you are, for many is a long difficult process. Sometimes it takes years even decades until finally a person finds their talent, their niche, their voice and becomes so comfortable with themselves that they shine to the rest of the world.

I have to admit the three contestants who the American Idol judges declared as knowing themselves, were in my opinion by far the best performers. So are the judges right in telling these young hopefuls that they need to find out who they are if they're going to have any hope of winning this contest? I believe so.

The question today then is, how do you find out who you are? Here are a few tips that helped me. And if you'd like to share your journey tips, please do.

1)Look inside. What are you passionate about? Not just what you like. What really makes your blood rush with excitement?

2)Feed the passion every day.

3)Use the talent you unearth every single day.

4)Don’t compare yourself to others. Be you. Be passionate about being you.


*****
If you like this blog, please consider following me here, on facebook, on twitter or Myspace.

******
Next week, March 17th, Ellora's Cave author Kathy Coddington joins me.

OBSESSED BY WILDFIRE'S FIRST REVIEW

I'm so thrilled. Thank you, Fern at Long and Short Reviews for the totally awesome review S4Aa4JwviTIof Obsessed By Wildfire. I'm so happy you love it!

Here are some tidbits Fern said:

My-oh-my, do they make things hot in Wayback or what? This isn’t my first journey to the Texas town, and you can guarantee after reading the newest story, Obsessed By Wildfire, it won’t be my last.

Due to mind-blowing chemistry and fantastic dialogue, the sex scenes positively sizzle. You’ll laugh, you’ll wriggle and squirm, and when things get dangerously hot, you’ll hover on the edge of your seat.

To read the entire review go to: http://www.longandshortreviews.com/LASR/recentrev.htm

View the trailer below. Press arrow.




Please don't forget to follow me. WINK