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Oh, where do I start? There are actually three that are tied for first place there! Dishes, does anyone like doing those really? I have 5 children – so dishes are never ending. Why they need a new cup for each drink will always remain a mystery to me – and when asked no one seems to know the answer to that mystery! Mentioning my wrecking crew brings me to the next one ... laundry. Seriously, when my kids were all smaller the pile seemed like it was knee deep and the floor in the laundry room was only glimpsed once a month. I have a witness to this fact, for proof. My mother came to stay while I was in the hospital for a week and she swore she spent eighteen hours a day in the laundry room and it was a constant growing pile. Did it get better when the kids got older? No! Now it’s just larger clothes that take up more space and the only one in the bunch interested in actually doing laundry is the youngest. The newest least favourite thing is something new that I’ve recently experienced through my work. Inventory – I really, really dislike this. I manage a cafe and counting croissants, tea bags and ciabatta buns is just something I could live quite happily without ever doing again. In the last month I have been training various members of my staff to count certain sections/shelves. I’m thinking by November I won’t have to count a single thing. :-)
If we’re talking about the thing in my writing world, I have a much shorter answer, one word in fact.
When would it be appropriate for a hero to have the compulsion to sing top 40 songs in lieu of conversation to the heroine?
The scenario would be when the heroine is a witch and the hero has slighted her in an almost unforgivable way so she casts a spell to make him sing to her in a very public place in front of all his male friends.
Hmm, clearly I’m feeling a little owly after a long, long day. It was one of those days where everything needed a “do over” option. I wanted to run and hide in my office and sit under the desk and talk to myself all day. It’s after days like this that I’m able to write out all those argument or fight scenes. My poor characters get tossed into some pretty interesting events when I feel like running around the house screaming and waving my arms.
Where were you when you got your first kiss?
Is this a memory test? Uh, I think I’m going to fail.
Oh! I remembered, it was in a field, tall overgrown grass where no one could see us. (I was a farm girl way back then .) :-)
Why shouldn’t a heroine be afraid when a wolf with lavender eyes has her cornered in a cave?
The answer to this one is so obvious! The wolf is actually a sinfully sexy man. By that I mean he is six foot two when he’s not in his wolf form, with sculpted muscles, lickable abs and shoulder length thick black hair that – I forgot where I was going with this...
How would you explain a perfectly cultured and Armani dressed guy wearing a red sock and a white sock?
It is his small way of rebelling. He bored with his life. Always having to do the right thing, dress the right way, follow all the rules that his high society parents have laid out for him. Inside he is suffocating from always being in the limelight as the perfect son. Every waking hour is spent longing for a way to escape and hide, a way to be free from a life he wants nothing to do with.
OR – He has many children and all the black socks were lost in the enormous laundry pile.
Thanks so much for having me here today. The questions were fun to answer!
Unfortunately fate tosses her into a situation where her carefully guarded secret and her own conscience are at war when she finds herself working with detectives to find a killer. Jacinda clashes with the very strongly grounded detective, Reid Merritt, destiny has forced her to work with. At some point he begins to matter, making her decision harder. Will he look at her with abhorrence, like she’s some sort of freak when she’s through?
When the fifth murder happens, Jacinda makes the decision to use her gift to find the killer. She doesn’t let herself think of how she’s going to suffer afterward, the consequences that will curse her again, the chance she’ll be giving up everything and starting all over. She just thinks of finding some justice and stopping a killer.
What will be the price, this time, for the ability she doesn’t want?