Windswept Shores Seventh Anniversary

Talking to a friend today and realized my first book, Windswept Shores, has been published seven years ago today. That also means I’ve been a published writer for the last seven years.

Windswept Shores part one
Windswept Shores is something warm to read while it’s frosty outside or a great read for the beach. And better yet, there a sequel too.

Blurb: The sole survivor of a plane crash, Megan is alone on a deserted island in the Bahamas. Then she finds a nearly-drowned man. Another survivor, this time from a boat wreck.
With only meager survival skill between them, will they survive these windswept shores and can they find love?
For the first time available as a trade paperback:
And for the Kindle:
His hand lingered on her shoulder. Her trembling vibrated up his arm. Blimey, she’s all shaken up.
“S’kay, she’ll be right.” He grabbed her sleeping pallet, pulled it over, slipping an arm around her waist.
Her body went rigid. “What are you doing?”
“Relax, mate, I’m not trying to get a leg over. You need a bit of comfort so you can go back to sleep. My mum would cuddle me when I’d have a howler of a nightmare. It’s nice to know you’re not alone.”
“So, I’m supposed to think of you like my mom or dad?”
“Or like yer husband if that’ll help?” He grinned in the dark, wondering what kind of reaction he was going to get.
“I think not.”
“I noticed you weren’t wearing a wedding ring. Is it because yer husband drowned?” His heart beat a little faster when he asked the question. He really wanted to know if he had a chance with her.
“No, he’s not drowned,” she snapped. “I lost my ring in the ocean, but I’m not sure when. I just looked down one day, it was gone.”
She’s in denial about her husband’s death. I reckon it’s too soon. A little disappointed, he decided to change subjects. “So, you got any ankle biters at home?”
“Two boys.”
“How old?” he asked. They must be missing their mum, poor little nippers.
“Joshua is twenty. He’s in college. Eli is eighteen and just graduated from high school.”
“Blimey, how long have you been married to your bloke?”
“Twenty-three years this January,” she said.
“How old are you?” He positioned his head where he could breathe in the scent of her hair, and inhaled a floral fragrance. How does she manage to smell fresh in a place like this?
Megan moved a bit forward. “Do you know that it’s considered very rude to inquire after a woman’s age?”
“Not where I’m from, so spill.” He scooted up some, placing his knees behind hers.
She pulled away. “Humph, well, okay I’m forty-two.”
“You’re still spunky.” He wondered how far she’d move until she ran out of room in her tiny shelter.
“Uh, spunky, thanks.” Megan rolled onto her back.
Blimey, she out maneuvered me. Seth was forced to move back, but kept his hand on her tummy.
“You got hitched when you were a young ‘un?” He quickly did the math. She’s a bit older than me. More of a challenge.
“Yeah, I got married at nineteen, but I knew what I wanted, or thought I did. Have you ever been married?”
“Got hitched once.”
“What happened?” she asked. Her bed rustled as she shifted position.
“We got into a blue, she told me to shove off, so I left. So that was the end of that.” His hand drifted to her rib cage.
“Any kids?” she asked, pushing his hand down.
“A son named Nick. He just turned six.”
“Okay, now you have to tell me how old you are.”
“I’m an old prawn. I just had my thirtieth birthday.”
“That’s not old, especially not for a man.”
“I’m starting to feel it when I surf,” he admitted, smoothing a wrinkle on her shirt.
“Oh, you’re a surfer?”
“Back in Uni I got caught up chasing the good breakers on Spring Break. I headed out from Cali to Baja, then from there to Florida. I became a Surfie. That’s what you’d call someone who surfs more than they work. Then I met this old bloke, Bill, in a pub. He’s from Oz too, or so I thought, but it turns out he’s an apple.”
“An apple?” she asked.
“He hails from Tasmania. I was broke doing odd jobs. Bill hired me to help on his fishing boat.”
“Wait a minute, Oz?”
“Oz, short for Australia,” he explained, moving his mouth toward where he thought her ear was, saying softly, “It’s in the sound Au`z-tralia—Oz.”
Trade paperback:

For Halloween, a scary post from my new book

Windswept Shores by Janice Seagraves

Even though my book is a contemporary romance, there are some scary stuff that my couple goes through on their deserted island.


Windswept Shores, now available  from Pink petal books.
Windswept Shores by Janice Seagraves Cover Contest Winner 
erotic contemporary romance novel (approx 50K) price $4.95 
Cover Art by Pink Petal Books with assistance from Winterheart Design
BLURB: The sole survivor of a plane crash, Megan is alone on a deserted island in the Bahamas until she finds a nearly-drowned man washed up on shore. Another survivor, this time from a boat wreck. With only meager survival skills between them, will they survive and can they find love?
Hearing an odd noise, they exchanged a worried glance. It sounded again.
Megan pulled down the corners of her mouth, spitting out one word, “Pigs.”
Seth’s eyes widened. “Bill.” He thrust the eggs into her hands, heading to the ladder on the side of the boat.
“Where are you going?” Megan asked.
“They’re in Bill’s ashes. After his bones.”
“You can’t charge boars barehanded. They have long, sharp tusks.” She frowned. “The last time I ran across a wild pig, I had to climb a tree.”
He slammed his fist on the boat’s railing. “I should have taken them out last night and buried them.” Opening a chest, Seth took out a spear gun. “You know how to use one of these?”
“No, I’ve only seen them on TV.” She set the eggs on the swivel chair.
“It’s just like on the box. You point and pull the trigger.” Seth demonstrated, loading it with a long spear with a wicked looking barb.
“What are you going to do?” She took the spear-gun.
Seth pushed the sharp end away from him. “I’m gonna make a bullroarer.” He brought out some heavy duty fishing line, tying a pointed weight to the end of it. “If I get charged, shoot. But try not to hit me.”
“I’ll try,” she said softly.
“Try a little harder than that, luv.” He grinned as he climbed down the ladder.
Megan scurried over to the side and aimed the spear gun at the pigs.
Seth rounded the bow of the boat. He called out with a thick accent, “Oy, get away from there, you miserable drongo.”
The boar grunted at him, sounding like “Huh?” The sow snorted, her piglets hiding behind her.
“Well come on, take a gander at the big Aussie.” He spread his arms wide as the boar snuffled, trying to scent him. Seth unwound the cord from the weight, spinning it over his head. The weapon started to hum until it turned into a very odd loud buzzing noise.
Alarmed by the noise, the pigs snorted and squealed.
“What a gas bag you are, you and your dirty grubs.” He moved closer to the hogs.
The female and the babies acted nervous, as if they didn’t want anything to do with that odd whirling noise overhead. With a last loud squeal of dismay, they ran off.
The boar didn’t budge but pawed the ground. “Seth, the boar is going to charge,” Megan warned. She kept a bead on it with the spear-gun.
“Steady now, Megz.” He edged closer to the boar. “Oy, you great big wanker, your missus left and so should you.”
The bore squealed ferociously and charged. Megan screamed. The spear-gun went off.
Now also available at SmashwordsDiesel, All Romance and for the kindle at Amazon.

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.