Thursday’s thirteen: Why You Should Buy My Book

Thirteen reasons why you should buy my book, Windswept Shores.

1. It’s awesome and I’m not saying that because I’m the author.

Oh yeah, I am too.

2. The hero is an Aussie and has a sexy accent.

What’s better than that?

3. It has a spunky heroine.

4. It’s set in the Bahamas

5. The setting is a romantic deserted island.

Did I mention its in the Bahamas?

6. Its not all fun and games when they go against–Wild cannibal boars

7. Meat eating crabs

8. Attacking sea birds

9. Dangerous brittle trees?

Yes, you heard me. The trees are dangerous.

10. Two strangers living in close proclivity fight against their growing attraction for each other.

11. But of course they loose that fight or it wouldn’t be a romance.

12. When they finally do get together the sex is red hot.

13. Hey! Hot SEX on the beach!

***Contest announcement***

This is the last one people.

Guess a number between one and fifty.

And the winner gets a free download of my book.

I will announce the winner here on Sunday, August 29th.

Thursday’s Thirteen: Setting the scene

This is excerpt from an article I wrote, when I guest blogged on Cynsights.

I set my book, Windswept Shores, on a deserted island in the Bahamas.

“How did you do that?” you might ask.

Easy, by finding out all that I could about the Bahamas, but not using all of it.
I can imagine your reaction, “Huh?”
Well, yes, we don’t want to over whelm our readers now do we?
I broke it down to this:
1. Color of sea—teal
2. Soil—sandy loam, sand, lots and lots of sand
3. I also had a cliff make entirely of sand stone, more sand!
4. What grows in the Bahamas?—anything that grows in a tropical area, including lots of fruit trees.
5. Fruit trees+fruit=food
6. Birds—sea birds including sea gulls
7. bird+eggs=food (just the eggs, mate)
8. Fish—tropical fish like what you’d see at your local pet store—puffer, lion fish, clown fish.
9. I used the name of a local sport fish—tarpon, it can get to be five feet in length. Fish=food
10. Shellfish—mussels, scallops, and conk=food
11. Dolphin (the mammal kind)—this is fun, they’re spotted!
12. Weather—wet+rain+windy=tropical!
13. I used descriptive words for the sea: ocean, waves, swells, and surf.

You get the idea. I mention the weather a lot in my story, until it becomes almost a secondary character.

***now for the contest***

For this week’s contest I have a wonderful signed 17 by 11 inch poster of my book cover.

Just guess a number between 1 and 50 to win. I’ll post the winning announcement on Sunday, August 22.

Just a reminder but I’m only running these weekly contests till the end of August, so please enter today.

Meet Faith Bricknell-Brown

Hi, your just in time, pull up a chair and get comfortable.

Today I’m interviewing my mentor, the fabulous Faith Bricknell-Brown. She’s a multi published writer, editor, artist and mom.

Janice: *turns to Faith, sitting on couch* Please, tell us about yourself?

Faith: I making my living editing, writing ebooks, non-fiction, and fiction geared for print magazines. I have four children, three stepchildren, and one grandson who turned a month old on August 12. I live smack in the middle of Ohio’s Appalachian foothills, raise a big garden every year, and I’m an artist as well as a writer and editor. I also like to make jewelry and crochet.

Janice: Sounds like a lot of work. When did you start writing?

Faith: When I was six. I wrote a story on brown wrapping paper with a green crayon about a turkey that was in danger of being Thanksgiving dinner.

Janice: I bet that was a fun read. *chuckling* Who was the biggest influence on your writing?

Faith: Oh, wow…that’s a toughie. Someone asked me this very same question the other day and I was stumped on how to answer it. My grandfather was a schoolteacher from the age of seventeen until well into his eighties. He thought I was an unusual child, so he took a lot of time out of his life to work with me and inspire the need to read, write, and learn. He didn’t get along with a lot of the family, but we were good friends and I miss him to this day.

Janice: Wow. It sounds like you had an amazing mentor in your grandfather.

How do you go about your writing? Do your prefer pencils to pens or is it all straight computer work?

Faith: I sometimes jot ideas in a notebook. I have several, believe me, lol. But nowadays I type all my work out as it comes to me and then make notes to keep things straight as I go along.

Janice: What influences you in your writing? Music, movies, reading, or straight research?

Faith: All of the above! My mind is a sponge and it never shuts off! That’s probably why I don’t sleep well at night, lol.

Janice: All those images going though your mind must make a rocky pillow.

When do you write morning or evening, or are you a late into the wee hours of the morning person?

Faith: Most of my writing is done from early morning until late afternoon.

Janice: Who in charge you or your muse?

Faith: Definitely my muse. However, once I get several WIPs going, my muse quiets enough to let me complete them before torturing me too much to start others.

Janice: That’s good.

Use only one word to describe your writing style? Or at least what you want your readers to take away from your writing.

Faith: I can’t label my work, but I’ve had countless readers and colleagues compare my work to Nicholas Sparks (and believe it or not, I’ve never read any of his titles) where others label my style as lyrical.

Janice: Lyrical good. What other books have you written?

Faith: Gah! Too numerous to list! However, the new works I have coming out in the next few weeks to a few months are The Darkness of Sable from Passion in Print, several erotica stories from Breathless Press, and a re-release called Feathers of Silver from Silver Publishing.

Janice: What influenced your recent book, the one you are promoting here today?

Faith: That would be The Darkness of Sable. It’s coming out in both print and ebook from Passion in Print. I have this intense fascination with anything paranormal, supernatural and all sorts of things that relate to faerie lore and the magical side of life, including witchcraft. Add some mythology and history to that mix and my muse goes bananas and I’m just along for the ride. I read everything about these topics I can get my hands on and watch every move and TV program of the same.

Janice: What brought SABLE into becoming a novel?

Faith: A biography I saw about Lenny Kravitz. LOL! He cut his dreadlocks, and BAM! I had an idea for a story. I bashed it out one afternoon and that 8K story has gradually turned into the 104K novel it is now. It has faeries, gods, goddesses, the paranormal, supernatural, lore, sex, action, psychological thrills and much, much more all wrapped up into one book!

The book will be available at all distributors but when it first comes out it can be purchased at

Struggling to deal with the disappearance of her daughter and in a creative slump, sculptress Sable Hendricks-Tade travels to Florida for rest and relaxation only to find herself thrust between divided paranormal worlds. One side wants her dead and the other will do anything to keep her in its “wicked” embrace. Determined to get answers, she searches for her missing daughter and spirals into the realm of immortals and goddesses where she quickly realizes her agent is her only anchor to reality. But can she trust him to keep her safe?

Thomas Valimar, a highly trained marshal working with a network of humans to maintain the line between the paranormal and human worlds, is assigned to protect Sable from the magic she doesn’t realize she possesses. Operating undercover as her agent, his duty soon turns to passion as he falls for the beautiful artist.
Drawing Sable into their world of sex, magic, and intrigue, the dark forces will do anything keep Sable in t heir clutches so they may feed from her emotions and mysterious ability. Only through sheer determination and Thomas’ love can Sable walk through other realms and not only battle the paranormal creatures that wish to destroy her live but save her daughter as well.

The Darkness of Sable
by F.L. Bicknell
Published August 2010 from Passion in Print. Print and ebook (release date pending).

Upon hearing Sable’s scream, Thomas’s blood ran cold. His startled gaze met the lovely woman’s next to him, and then he spun on his heel, facing the chaos at the dais.

Flash bulbs bombarded her with their brightness, and camera phones clicked repetitively. She scrambled to her hands and knees and then shielded her face with her hands.

Nearly everyone around him moved closer to the embarrassing scene. He scanned the crowd for anything unusual and found only the Paranorm posing as an officer. For an instant, Thomas thought he saw something else standing in the cop’s place, something tall with big, curling horns sprouting from its head. He blinked. Had he imagined it?

He took a step toward the dais, but the woman next to him grabbed his sleeve.


“I have to protect Sable,” Thomas whispered and shrugged her off.

“Protect her from what?” the beautiful black woman replied, her gaze stern. “There’s nothing there.
Discretion is a big part of protecting your ward.”

He returned his attention to Sable, who accepted Isa’s proffered hand to help her up.

“Valimar, have you fallen for the woman?” she asked.

“Don’t be ridiculous, Yasmine,” he snarled. His heart flailed so hard he felt faint. Again, he glanced across the gala, taking in all the faces, looking for movement in shadowy corners. “What good am I as a Paranormal Marshal if I can’t protect her?”

“You forget that The Golden is with her.” She patted his arm. “Only a fool would make an attempt on Sable’s life in The Golden’s presence.”

“See that guy over there?” He inclined his head in Officer Delmont’s direction. “The one with the coal-black hair.”


“What or who do you see?”

“A nice-looking man, why?”

“He’s a Paranorm, but for a moment I thought I…”

She focused jade-green eyes on Thomas.

Feeling silly, he shrugged. “Never mind. I think stress is messing with my mind.”

“Isn’t he the one assigned to help you guard Sable?”

“Yeah, but I don’t trust him.”

Yasmine snorted derisively. “Few Paranorms can be trusted, Valimar, you know that.”

“Come on.” Thomas took Yasmine’s hand and drew her toward the onlookers. “Let’s see what we can find out.”

As they shouldered through the crowd, Thomas waved to Sable, showing her he was on his way. Fear for her stomped in his heart. By the Judges power, how the hell do I protect her from something I can’t see?

He pushed past a man in a hideous green suit jacket, who wore enough cologne for twenty men. Behind him, Yasmine sniffed abruptly and then sneezed. Pausing a few feet away, Thomas witnessed unshed tears glimmering in Sable’s eyes. A lump that felt like the size of a cinder block formed in his throat. Oh, how he wanted to comfort her, to chase away her embarrassment and fear.

Drawing within earshot of the dais, Thomas heard Isa ask, “Are you all right?”

Sable bit her trembling lower lip and then nodded to Isa.

“Bless you, child.” Isa motioned, and security personnel rushed to the scene.

Thomas kept watching for stealthy movements, twinkles in his peripheral vision that denoted magic about to be used by someone, and odd nuances in a person’s eyes or form. However, nothing out of the ordinary hinted at its presence.

Officer Delmont moved closer to the scene.

If he touches Sable, I’ll beat him to death with a champagne bottle.

As if the policeman sensed Thomas’s thoughts, Officer Delmont turned toward him and smiled.

Okay, buddy. Thomas offered the cop a challenging gaze. Make one stupid move and it will be your last.

“Once you’re sure Sable is all right,” Yasmine said, her voice low, “we need to find a place to discuss some things.”

“Damn, Yasmine. This isn’t a good time. I can’t leave her here unprotected.”

“She’s with The Golden, and the Paranorm is nearby too. She’ll be fine.”

He sighed. It’s not The Golden who worries me.

And the winner is . . .

The winning number is #35.

I looked over my list of participants, and Debra came the closet with #32.

Congratulations Debra, you are the winner of the mini surfboard, ankle bracelet, toe rings, and incense.

Thursday’s Thirteen: What Megan says

Thursday’s thirteen: my hubby told me, “You’ve posted things that your hero says, why not thirteen things that your heroine says.”
Well, hey, I haven’t done one of those yet.
So here are thirteen things from Windswept Shores, that Megan says:
1. “God, this thing is heavy.”
2. “What the—did you just sniff me?”
3. “Large head okay?”
4. “Yes, but don’t get too excited. It’s got a hole.”
5. Oh, lord, he’s naked.
6. “I like to think it’s cozy.”
7. “Kind of like truth or dare?”
8. “I’m not even going to ask about that one.”
9. “Oh, that’s great! And they’re nice big ones, too.”
10. “O-oh, you’re just like every guy I know. Why is it always sex with men?”
11. “When are you not a distraction to anyone?”
12. Was that some kind of kinky Aussie pasttime?
13. That’s dumb. You never touch a man you’re not married to so intimately.

This contest is for the ladies. I have another surfboard to give away, plus an ankle bracelet made with seashells, toe rings are included, and that’s not all I’m also adding incense called sea breeze.

Just guess a number between 1 and 50 and this prize can be yours, so act now. The winner will be announce Sunday, August 15th.

Gee, I think I just heard a contest announcers voice.

Meet Lisa Alexander-Griffin

Hi, you’re just in time. Have a seat. I’m having a nice talk with Lisa Alexander-Griffin, a dear friend of mine and fellow Pink Petal author.

Janice: Tell us about yourself?  *making a gesture with my hand* Whatever you’re comfortable telling.

Lisa: Hi, Janice! Thanks for having me over today. J There’s not a lot to tell. I’m a N. Alabama native. A mother to three children, two of which are grown, and the youngest is twelve. She keeps me hopping for sure. I’m also a grandmother to three delightful grandchildren. I’ve been married thirty-four years to the same wonderful man. [Sometimes not so wonderful, but hey, neither am I.] Life is hard, but we’ve managed this far, so we must be doing something right.

Janice: I guess so, 34 years is very long time to be married and you don’t look old enough to be a grandmother.

When did you start writing?

Lisa: About twelve years ago. I was going through some dark times and really thought journaling would help, but nothing is sacred here at home, so that idea was struck out rather quickly. I started a story to channel my feelings, and along the way, discovered my love for writing; how I could breathe life in characters, give them real personalities and flaws, a happy ending, when in life that’s not always possible. Realizing that I needed to learn the craft, I searched for, and found a few online groups. That’s when I really started to learn.

Janice: Same here and we meet on one of those groups, too. I remember reading an excerpt of Daniel’s Touch two years ago, when it was still a work in progress, and was very impressed.

Who was the biggest influence on your writing?

Lisa: Can’t say there’s just one.  I read a lot of Danielle Steel’s work when I first started reading romance. But I also grew up on Harlequin’s passed to me by my grandmother. Then there’s Cassie Edwards. I love her Native American Romantic tales. She was a major influence, and of course Nora Roberts, Sandra Brown, Fern Michaels and Jude Deveraux.

Janice: How do you go about your writing? Do your prefer pencils to pens or is it all straight computer work.

Lisa: Really, how I go about writing varies depending on my mood. Lol. Some days I’ll write caveman style with paper and pen, other days my preference is the computer. If I’m really stuck on a scene, it’s back to paper and pen.  *blushes* Yes, I still have creative blocks at times.

Janice: Oh that happens a time or two to me too. *grin* What influences you in your writing? Music, movies, reading, or straight research?

Lisa: Mostly research and people watching. You can learn a lot just listening. A phrase from a song, or a friend or family member’s problems might trigger a scenario in my mind, and from there, a story develops.

Janice: When do you write morning or evening, or are you a late into the wee hours of the morning person, like me?

Lisa: Every spare moment I get! Being a mother and grandmother, I never know what the day will bring. Nighttime is my preference. It’s quiet and there’s no one to call my name or break my concentration.J But with Morgan still in school, that’s next to impossible except on holidays or weekends.

Janice: Oh, yes, I like night for writing too. Who in charge you or your muse?

Lisa: Definitely me. I’ve always said I don’t have a muse, and I really don’t. What goes on paper/computer is up to me. Sad but true.

Janice: Use only one word to describe your writing style? Or at least what you want your readers to take away from your writing.

Lisa: Dark, but always with an HEA. Lol.

Janice: Getting to that HEA is really worth it, when your story is dark. What other books have you written?

Lisa: My first contract was for The Unexpected Gift in One Touch, One Glance, A Sweet Romance Anthology at Freya’s Bower, and soon to follow, a contemporary romantic fantasy titled A Celtic Lover’s Magic where old and new worlds collide. Shattered Illusions released in May at Pink Petal Books, and my latest title, Danielle’s Touch, debuted in ebook format at Passion in Print August 1, 2010. In ten to fourteen days it will be out in print at Amazon and Barns and Noble. Maybe even an independent bookstore near you, so check it out!! J

Janice: Oh, I already have Daniel’s touch budgeted in on the next week’s shops list.

What influenced your recent book, the one you are promoting here today?

Lisa: Oh, wow! This is the first story I’d ever written. As I improved my craft, I tweaked, and then tweaked some more. Danielle’s Touch deals with domestic violence issues, how people overcome and survive such a horrific event. Every cloud has a silver lining, IF we look hard enough to find it. Ethan and Danielle found theirs. J

Danielle’s Touch
Available at Passion in Print

Rebuilding her life after escaping an abusive marriage, Danielle Courtland throws herself into her new decorating business. Men are the last thing on her mind…until a Stetson-wearing cowboy enters her shop, that is.
The hazel-eyed cowboy needs her help. Restoring an old Victorian-styled plantation house, he realizes the job requires a feminine touch. Caught off guard by the sexiest woman he’s ever laid eyes on, Ethan’s vow to never love again is all but forgotten as he falls hard for the tempting decorator.
Passion simmers, and love is no longer a dream. But hidden in the shadows, danger waits, threatening Danielle and Ethan’s chance at a life together. Will a man, twisted by his obsession, separate them forever?
A lazy half smile on his face, Alex leaned against the porch post like he owned the place.
Danielle’s stomach churned. With a hand clutching the doorknob, she moved cautiously onto the porch. God, have I ever screwed up.
Panic erupted inside her, and her body trembled. “What do you want, Alex?”
Alex’s smile widened, his eyes gleaming with a predatory light. “Just dropped by for a friendly visit, Danielle.”
Danielle forced a breath past the constriction in her throat. “You’re not my friend. Say what you have to say and be gone. I didn’t invite you here.” Her knees threatened to buckle, and her pulse pounded in her ears. She edged back against the door to steady the tremble of her body. “I want nothing to do with you.” She fumbled for, and twisted the knob, eager to escape back into the house.
Alex pushed from the post. “It hasn’t been long since you wanted a great deal to do with me,” he drawled.
Her hand slipped, and the door lock clicked, vibrating in the night. Danielle flinched, and the door slammed shut, barring her escape to the inside. Swift in his movements, Alex yanked her against him.
She jerked free and rubbed her arm. “You have no right to disrupt my life. In case you’ve forgotten, we’re divorced.”
He inched her backward, against the door, molding his body to hers. “I told you, Danielle, I’ll never let you go.”
Danielle pushed with all her might. Familiar and overwhelming, the stench of alcohol permeated the air. His grip tightened, and in the dim moonlight his eyes glinted with lust, his erection rigid against her thigh.
“I came for what belongs to me,” he whispered, his hot breath moist on her cheek. “A man has needs.”
The porch plank creaked under his weight, and a dog barked in the distance. Frantic, Danielle scanned her surroundings. There was no visible help in sight. No neighbor or a passerby. Nothing.
“I’m not your wife,” she croaked, and with the realization that she was trapped, terror slammed through her. She had no place to run, hide or seek refuge.
Wrenching her arm to the side, she tried to break free. “We’ve been separated three years, divorced for a year and a half,” she said in an attempt to jar his alcohol-hazed memory.
He glowered down at her, his eyes darkening.
Ice balled in her stomach—whenever she’d seen that look in the past, she’d paid dearly.
Alex snickered. “Those stupid papers mean nothing. You will always be my wife. No paper, no dim wit judge, is ever going to change that. No one,” he snarled, “will know the pleasure of having you but me.” His lips slid across her neck, hot and repulsive. “I know you want me, babe.”
She twisted her body, attempting to dislodge his hold. “Let me go. You’re drunk, and I don’t want you here.” She jabbed an elbow into his ribs and raked her fingernails down the side of his face. “Leave me alone!” she shrieked.
“You bitch.” He stumbled back and grabbed her again, his fingers digging into soft flesh, bruising her arm. Cold and blue, his eyes glinted. “You’re not going anywhere, Danielle. Unless I go with you.”
Tears burned her eyes, clouding her vision. She squirmed and shoved against him.
“Not so fast, princess. You haven’t given me what I came for.”
Brutally, he seized her mouth, his lips crushing hers. The pressure on her arms intensified, and large hands, capable of so much cruelty, yanked her closer.
She gagged, bile rising in her throat. With renewed effort, she fought to be free.
Pinning her to the wall with the weight of his body, he tangled his hands in her hair, forcing her head back. His mouth violated, his tongue forcing entry. Releasing his grip on her arm, he circled his fingers around her neck in a vise grip.
Oh, God! Not again!
Danielle tried to scream, but the pressure of his kiss stopped her. She drove her knee upward, aiming for his groin. He deflected the maneuver with little effort. Determined, she slammed her foot into his shin, and he released a guttural growl.
Open palmed, he struck her face. A starburst of color exploded behind her eyelids, and she bit back a groan.
Alex had the upper hand. He was the predator—she the prey.
She traced her bruised lower lip with her tongue, tasting blood. Desperate, she prayed for the strength to fight him off. Kill him for what he’d done to her—what he kept doing.
With her robe askew and her chest heaving, damp night air caressed her breasts. Alex’s hungry gaze settled on her exposed flesh. He chuckled low, licked his lips, and she shriveled inwardly. He grasped a nipple between his thumb and forefinger and squeezed. Pain radiated outward, and she fought not to cry out. His putrid breath caressed her face.
“God. Alex. Stop!”
“I’ll have my wife tonight,” he whispered, dragging her toward the front door.
His words jolted through her. Dear God, don’t let him rape me. She planted her bare feet but found no leverage. Scrambling, she dug in again, and he laughed. He was too strong, impossible to fight.
Danielle panted, each breath ragged. She resigned herself to the inevitable and went limp in his arms. A scream rent the air, and she recognized the voice as her own.
Alex would do with her what he wanted. There was nothing she could do to stop him.
Tires screeched, and Danielle scanned the streets, hope surging inside her. Nicole Lawson emerged from her car. Her face distorted with rage, she raced around the vehicle.
“Let her go!”
Surprise widened Alex’s eyes. He reinforced his grip, looking over his shoulder.
Nicole jogged up the sidewalk, stopping a few feet from the porch. “Leave or I’ll call the police.” Hatred blazed in her eyes as she held herself ramrod straight.
Alex’s hold faltered, his fingers loosening. Anticipation swelled in Danielle’s chest.
Nicole tilted her chin in defiance. “I seriously doubt you’d welcome trouble. Let. Her. Go.”
Arms tense and his biceps bulging, Alex dropped his hand.
Danielle’s knees buckled, and she collapsed to the porch, the air rushing from her lungs.
He stepped back and pinned Danielle with a frigid stare. “This isn’t over by a long shot, Danny girl,” he growled and pointed a finger at her. “It will never be over for us. You’d do best to remember that you’re mine.” He shot Nicole a hate-filled glare and strode into the night.
Lisa Alexander-Griffin


This weeks contest has ended and Loretta C. has won the incense and soy melts.

Congratulations, Loretta!

Next weeks contest will be posted late on Wednesday night, another Thursday’s Thirteen on my website. I will only be having weekly contests until the end of the month.

And I also have an on going contest at Coffee Time Romance, which will end on August 31st.

So don’t delay, enter today!