I need to borrow the TARDIS!

Here in the UK, tomorrow is just another Thursday. My friends in the States, however, will be celebrating Thanksgiving and I would love to be there with them. I can eat, drink, be merry - and thankful - with the best of them. Truly! I have a lot to be thankful for - a healthy family, the best dogs in the world, being paid to do the job I love … and that’s just for starters.

As a writer, I spend a large chunk of my time daydreaming and one that takes up a lot of time is deciding where I would go if I could borrow Dr. Who’s TARDIS for the day. 

Given the TARDIS (Time And Relative Dimension In Space), I’d be crossing the pond tomorrow to help my friends celebrate Thanksgiving. I’d nip off to Lapland for Christmas, and I’d get there early to make sure Santa knows I’ve been really, really exceptionally good this year. I’d be crossing the pond again to welcome in 2014 in Times Square. Valentine’s Day would be spent in Paris or Venice. I’d be in Dublin for St. Patrick’s Day. 

Today’s destination is a tough one. Being high up in the Arctic Circle looking out for the aurora borealis is appealing. On the other hand, I’ve walked the dogs in the freezing temperatures of Lancashire, the logs are burning in the grate, there’s a bottle of wine with my name on it within pouring distance, all is warm and comfortable - so maybe, just maybe, I’d stay home.

What about you? If you could borrow Dr Who’s TARDIS, where would you go?

Happy Thanksgiving to all my friends in the US. Eat some turkey for me!

Thanksgivukkah

Let's forget the fact that another year is winding down and Christmas decorations are going up even though we haven't enjoyed Thanksgiving. This year is really crazy since Thanksgiving and Hanukkah coincide. Let me tell you, if you think Christmas is coming fast, anyone who celebrates Hanukkah is really scrambling! This is certainly a first in my lifetime--celebrating Hanukkah on Thanksgiving. I'm thinking I'll have to try making some sweet potato latkes. (Sounds good right?)

This melding of Thanksgiving and Hanukkah won't occur again for more than 77,000 years. (77,798 to be exact!) That's a long time, people! The last time it happened was in 1888. (I find the succession of the 8s and 7s very interesting, but that has nothing to do with anything.)

Of course, this melding of holidays has not lessened any of my family's dysfunction. It's possible that the dysfunction has multiplied. Ugh. In fact, I've decided to put this year's first dysfunctional story into a book. Now I just need to write a holiday book and fit it in. Haha. I've never set out to write a holiday specific story, although Dangerously Close does take place just before Thanksgiving and runs through Christmas, so I guess it could be called "holiday light." I've begun to bill it as "Add a little suspense in your holidays." (Actually, the Thanksgiving after-dinner scene might be my favorite scene in my fourteen years of writing. I giggled through the whole thing and only hope other people feel the fun as they read it.)

This year I'm especially thankful for having a healthy husband and daughter. I'm EXTREMELY thankful for my new kitchen after 23 years of waiting/saving. The space has transformed our little family unit since we have space to converge/cook/eat/sit. In the last few months we've had some awesome times in our new kitchen and I figure I have 2 more years to soak it up before my daughter is off to college. Here's a pic of my dream kitchen (with my dog's tail as she's walking out). The old kitchen ended right where the fridge starts. (We more than doubled the space.)

What about you? Anything you're particularly thankful for this year?

HERE COME THE GEEKS!

The fourth book in my geeky cyber mystery series, NO PLACE LIKE ROME, drops this Monday, November 25, and I'm pretty excited about it! 

For those of you not familiar with the series, Lexi is a geek first-class—a gamer, hacker, book nerd and fangirl who double-majored in mathematics and computer science and has zero social skills. Her day job for a hot new cyber-intelligence firm has landed her an exciting case on behalf of the sexiest uberhacker in the universe, code-named Slash. Slash's uncle in Rome has been accused of siphoning money from the Vatican Bank and it’s up to Lexi to hunt the hacker and clear his name.

Here is a short excerpt from the book:

I’ve loved listening to music since I was a little girl. Not because I’m musically gifted, but because notes, themes, chords and tempo all have an intrinsic mathematical logic that speaks to me. After all, music is defined by its numeric divisions, such as a beat, a measure or a bar. Musical scales are actually harmonics based on the numerical ratios present in the Fibonacci series, which are a sequence of integers beginning at zero and one and continuing with each new number being the sum of the previous two.

I know all of this because I’m a geek first-class. My name is Lexi Carmichael and I’m a mild-mannered twenty-five-year old who, thankfully for music aficionados, is not employed in any part of the music industry. By day, I work as the Director of Information Security at a hot new cyber-intelligence firm just outside of Washington, D.C. By night, I’m a gamer, book nerd and fangirl (Bond, Star Wars, Dr. Who, Lord of the Rings). I’ve got long brown hair, no discernible curves and zip in the social skills department. I double-majored in mathematics and computer science at Georgetown University with a specialty in cybersecurity. Ask me to talk about a rigorous axiomatic framework or computational complexity theory, and I’m all over it. Ask me to make small talk and I’ll imagine myself jumping off a bridge.

Haven’t tried a Lexi Carmichael adventure yet? Well, you’re in luck! The first book in the series NO ONE LIVES TWICE, is now available everywhere ebooks are sold for ***FREE***.  But hurry, this offer ends on November 30!

CLICK HERE TO DOWNLOAD FROM CARINA PRESS OR HERE TO DOWNLOAD FROM AMAZON.COM OR HERE FOR BARNESANDNOBLE.COM.

So, who is your favorite geek of all time? Albert Einstein? Sheldon Cooper? Copernicus? Vint Cerf? Thomas Edison? Inquiring minds want to know!  :)

Julie Moffett is a bestselling and award-winning author who writes in the genres of mystery, historical romance and paranormal romance. Learn more about Julie and her books on Facebook, Twitter and her website. She has won numerous awards, including the EPIC 2011 Award for Best Action/Adventure Novel, PRISM Award for Best Romantic Time-Travel and Best of the Best Paranormal Books of 2002. She has also garnered several nominations for the Daphne du Maurier Award, the Holt Medallion and the Gayle Wilson Award of Excellence.

Cats & Characters

Seuss & Muffin on alert

I have 2 cats. They are both rescues. One lived under a porch for the first few months of his life. He’s a very nervous guy. Runs when the doorbell rings. Runs if there’s a loud noise. Runs if you make eye contact for more than half a second. (And he hates being photographed, dahling.)

The other cat was actually born on the floor of the kids’ bathroom. He’s grown up with our family. Our house is a safe and happy universe—full of food on demand and large hairless cats, clearly put here to do his bidding.

My cuteness is irresistible!

“But I want to walk on the counters!”

“I want to eat that butter!”

“I’m hungry NOW!”

Sometimes, I think my cats represent a real life psychology experiment: “Effects of early childhood on personality.”

This got me thinking about my characters. I spend a lot of time working out what’s going on with them within the time frame of a particular story, but I realized, I didn’t always take time to understand their childhoods.

So one day, when I was feeling kind of stumped, (procrastinating? Nooooo, not me!) I decided to imagine the main character's childhoods in detail. Who held them as a baby? What food did they eat? Turns out, the image I found most useful was picturing them around the age of 6 or 7, the age when you first start to have strong memories. I personally think that’s when your sense of the world gets firmed up.

Muffin supervising productivity. 

Wow.

I got some really interesting details out of that bit of procrastination. And it helped get me over the hump. (Off the stump?)

Anyone else ever tried imagining a character’s childhood? What's your go-to childhood image--a toy? A food? What age do you see when you think of childhood?

Better than sex?

That heading got your interest, didn’t it? Perhaps it’s an age thing but I really have found something that eclipses sex. That feeling when a good story comes together really gets the juices flowing, especially for someone like me who can start a book with only the vaguest idea of where the story will take me.

True to form, that happened with my latest release, Finessing the Contessa. Lord Robert is established in previous books in the Forsters series as being a champion chess player. I thought it might make a good start to the book if he was travelling to play against other masters, including the elusive Sicilian widow, Electra Falzone. He also just happens to be carrying a secret report for his brother, the marquess, and is supposed to deliver it to the Home Secretary. He overhears the contessa agreeing to steal the report from him.

This is how she goes about it.

 

Rob always slept naked and saw no reason to change his habit simply because a lady planned to pay him an unannounced visit. Nevertheless, he pulled the coverlet up to his waist to spare her blushes. He left the bed hangings open, and a full moon together with the dwindling fire supplied some light in the chamber. A leather pouch containing his notes on a chess gambit protruded from the pillow next to him—the best method he could think of to gain a close-up view of the contessa.

A considerable amount of time passed. So much time that Rob began to think she’d had a change of heart. “Come along, sweet lady. We have a game to play that has nothing to do with chess.”

As though she’d heard him, the soft rustle of her clothing and a waft of gardenias alerted him to her eventual presence even before she lifted the door latch.

“Ah,” he muttered with a taut smile. It begins.

The latch squeaked, sounding unnaturally loud in the silent building. Rob opened one eye and saw her poised on the threshold, candle in hand, looking ready to flee if he stirred. Obligingly he closed his eye again and manufactured a series of gentle snores. Apparently satisfied that she hadn’t disturbed him, she emitted a soft sigh as she closed the door soundlessly behind her. One eye again open, Rob watched her put her candle down, well clear of the bed, and examine the room.

She moved towards a small desk in the corner and rifled through the papers Rob had left for her to find. They didn’t detain her for long. She turned in a tight circle, nibbling the end of her index finger as she tried to decide where next to search. She’d hardly spared a glance for the bed and appeared to be deliberately avoiding it. As she rummaged carefully through his valise, Rob saw a profusion of dark curls escaping from a long braid and a slim yet curvaceous body beneath a high-necked gown. Unfortunately, that was all be could see without revealing his conscious state.

Finally, she approached the bed. Eyes closed again, Rob heard her gasp. Obviously she’d seen the pouch. The scent of gardenias pervaded as he sensed her leaning towards him. When she didn’t immediately reach for the pouch he would have given much to know what she was doing.

Making sure he really was asleep, presumably, since something about him obviously engaged her attention. She stood there for a long time, and Rob was sure he could feel the warmth of her gaze focused on his face, the lightness of her breath peppering his naked torso. Had she undergone a last-minute change of heart? He willed her to continue with her thieving intent. How else could he find out what she was up to? The desire to open his eyes and look at her face grew steadily more urgent, and Rob was hard-pressed to remain in his supposedly unconscious state.

Come on, contessa. I don’t bite.

Eventually Rob felt the pillow move, his cue to open both eyes. Before she could react, he snaked out an arm, caught her round the waist and tumbled her down on top of him.

“Arghhh, what do you think you’re doing?”

Rob elevated a brow. “Shouldn’t I be asking you that question?”

 

I had no idea why she turned thief when I wrote that opening, no idea what was in the report and why it was so important. I let the characters make up their own minds about all that stuff as the story progresses. That makes it all the sweeter when the loose ends get tied up and the story gels.

Finessing the Contessa – available now from Carina Press http://bit.ly/1d86Cpx and all good etailors.

Okay, so the feeling of achievement is better than sex, but is it better than chocolate? Now that is a tough call.

Wendy