Roses

Anyone who has spent any time around me knows I love roses. I've had them as an integral part of my landscape and in my writing, for years. When I was in Austin, I found the Antique Rose Emporium, who specializes in (you'll never guess) antique roses. Their website even breaks down the various varieties into the type of fragrance they offer. When I moved to North Carolina, my little patch of yard had two rose bushes, leggy, spindly things. I pruned them back, fed them with my favorite rose food, and was rewarded with only one rose. One bloom for the entire season.

Sadly, it didn't even have much of a scent.

A few days ago, I was at a major home improvement store, in their outdoor section, which was bustling with folks. The woman behind me in line had a rose bush in her basket and I asked if she'd ever heard of the Antique Rose Emporium. She said she only grew Knockout roses, which have heavy blooms, but alas, no heavy scent. No scent at all.

So which way do you lean? Do you want show or do you want substance? Because roses are as much a part of me as my writing is, I favor substance. I want heavy fragrance, and continual blooms all season. I even wrote about roses in the first of the Flower Girl series. My heroine spent her days in the greenhouse, talking to her roses. I admit to doing the same.

My rose from the Antique Rose Emporium arrived yesterday. I passed on the one that smelled like pineapples in favor of an old-time musky scent. My new rose is called The Beverly. I just planted Bev in the back yard along with a huge gulp of water and some of my famous rose food. All she needs is some sunlight and she'll hopefully spread her toes in the sandy soil of North Carolina and take off.

Here's Beverly!

My conversation with the stranger with the Knockout did yield something good, though. She told me of a place in Vancouver, Canada, where they have acre after acre of roses that perfume the air. I'm going to have to check it out.

Secondary Characters

My new Regency line, The Flower Girl Series, has been scooped up by Simon & Schuster, with the first one scheduled for release on Christmas Day! It is definitely Happy Dance time.

With that in mind, I'd like to talk a bit about the first book, Winning Violet. The Wilson sisters–Iris, Violet, Lily and Poppy, all live and work with their father in his landscaping and nursery business in Hertfordshire, outside of London. And while the entire family does indeed participate in this first book, showing up at the most inauspicious of times, the real secondary character is truly someone special. Her name is Lady Banks. Allow me to introduce you.

Violet is a true scientist who spends her days experimenting with the hybridization of roses–specifically the Lady Banks rose. This particular beautiful climbing rose is spectacular when in bloom, and the scent from the roses is divine, but unfortunately it only blooms once a year. Violet is cross-pollenating it with other varieties in an attempt to make it bloom more frequently and hopes her work will gain her recognition with the Royal Horticultural Society.

The Lady Banks rose plays a pivotal role in the story line. Violet curtsies in front of the plant each time it gets watered or fertilized, calls her My Lady, and uses her pollen to explain the process of hybridization to Parker, Thomas Jefferson's landscaper.

This is the first time I've used a plant as a secondary character, but she does get a lot of words in my story. She bears witness to Violet and Parker's blooming romance, their first kiss and, ahem, other things a Lady doesn't discuss. I like to think that when Violet and Parker finally come to the realization that they are in love with each other, the Lady Banks hides her knowing smile under a green leaf.

What about you? Have you ever used inanimate objects as characters in your books?

NaNo Fatigue

Before I can be accused of a falsehood, I want to admit I did not participate in the official NaNo this year. However, that doesn't mean I spent the month of November in a turkey-induced fog. I was up against a deadline that I rashly proposed to my new publisher and had until the end of November to turn my manuscript in to them. When I get to the polishing stage, words are more often deleted than inserted, so I knew there was no way I could do NaNo and commit myself to writing 50,000 words in a month's time.

But I met my deadline, with even a couple days to spare. Now comes the waiting game, while the manuscript, my shiny new story, gets reviewed and either accepted or rejected by the publisher. Fingers are crossed, but if it's rejected by them, I have other avenues available to me. I know that now, after four years in this business.

I do have a bit of writer's fatigue, though, which many writers experience in December, after a frantic month of NaNo writing. I'm taking the month to just do some research for my next series. I have a lot of ground to cover, since the subject matter isn't something I'm all that familiar with, other than a love for antique, heirloom roses. And rose hip tea. I'll take my time and become as comfortable as I can in an 1800s greenhouse exploding with hybrid roses. And Scottish lochs. Lochs and Roses. Should be a fun way to spend December, instead of existing in gloomy, snowy Ohio.

I also have three releases in December, which must be promoted. First up is the big bundle of all the books in the Cotillion Ball series, followed by Love's In The Cards, my contemporary Christmas novella. Then, I'll end the year with another historical, Dance With Destiny, cover still being designed, about a half-Ojibwa Indian and the white family he assists while the husband is off fighting the Civil War. My family had a story handed down over the years about having an Indian somewhere in our genealogy, which was mentioned by many who were researching various branches of the family tree. A DNA test a year ago put an end to the rumors, since it showed no trace of American Indian blood. But if so many had heard the story, and my ancestors shared claims of school harassment due to their Indian heritage, there must be some grain of truth to the story. Dance With Destiny offers up one explanation. I hope you'll enjoy it, and my other efforts from the year.























And next year? Hopefully, my story will be accepted by my publisher and I'll get to promote it. And I hope to write two of the new series. See you on the moors!

Gearing Up

May is going to be a busy month. My third installment in the Cotillion Ball series, Banking on Temperance, releases on May 6. Later in the month, my baby-boomer contemporary, Blame It On The Brontes, is due to be released. And, all the advice I’ve been getting lately is to keep your head down and continue to write, so I’m working on another contemporary, which I hope to have done by June. Add to that, a new women’s fiction line just emerged from another publisher, and they’ve asked me to resubmit some of my work. Be careful what you wish for.

 

So, I’m using the month of April to get my review requests in and my guest blogs lined up. You’d think I’d have a handle on it now, after releasing two books, and I am in better shape than when the first one came out. But garnering press coverage for a contemporary romance, and a baby-boomer one at that, is a whole different experience from talking about an historical. There are genre-specific blog sites, and review sites, and if you don’t do your homework, you’ll end up getting a 2-star review because you sent your book to an erotica site, and your book definitely doesn’t live up to that billing. Believe me.

From May on, my life will be crazy. I’ll have to set my alarm so I remember to get up from the computer every couple hours and let the dog out. Then, there’s our chapter conference in mid-May, where, for the first time, I can sit at the published authors’ table and sign my books. How exciting.

I do my best work when I’m juggling a lot of different things, but sometimes it’s nice to stop for a few minutes and just smell my roses, too. Even though spring has been AWOL in Ohio so far, it’s coming. And I can’t wait for my roses to bloom again.