October 2003

Patricia’s Occasional Newsletter (distributed only by request) from author Patricia Crossley, www.patriciacrossley.com Please stop by for a visit, read some of my excerpts and reviews & pick up some free downloads.
email patricia@patriciacrossley.com,
I also write as Margrett Dawson: email: margrettdawson@theromancestudio.com

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Please note: while I am setting up my on-line access in Africa, I am experiencing difficulty in sending my newsletter as usual. To read the latest newsletter at the website, please visit www.patriciacrossley.com.


Greetings to all of you.

I have told you that we arrived safely in East Africa and after just a week in Kenya, we left to teach for three weeks in Kampala, Uganda.

On our first weekend in Kampala, we travelled to Jinja about an hour to the east, to see the source of the Nile. It starts in green, hilly country at the edge of Lake Victoria and flows wide and swift towards two other lakes and then on to the Sudan and Egypt. At one time there was a large waterfall, since dammed for hydro electric power. Below where the falls used to be are still many large rapids. You can take a rafting tour of about six hours down these rapids and camp on the banks if you wish. One Ugandan told us that the government is trying to send a bill to Egypt for the use of the water of the Nile river! I suppose they figure there's no point in even asking poverty stricken Sudan to pay also.

We have settled in back in Kakamega, bearing with us small gifts from our students, fond memories and two very large pineapples from the border crossing (about 60c Canadian or 40cUS each). Ugandan pineapples are imported into Kenya, and are amazingly sweet and juicy, but in our town are small and double the price. We've been enjoying our big slices of fruit every day. Today we'll buy some of the tiny, sweet bananas that are a bit bigger than your middle finger, and some mangos if they have them in the market.

We are in the period of the 'short rains' which means that the heavens can open, thunder and lightening roll any time from four in the afternoon. Time to take shelter if you're outside, and switch off the power supplies indoors. The power surges can fry electrical equipment, especially computers. The mornings are fresh and cool in a cloudless sky. Kenyans complain of the cold (It's about 20-25C, but for us it's perfect)These rains should continue for a few more weeks, until we start the dry season in December.

Our (almost) perpetual sunshine makes it hard to believe that Hallowe'en is coming up at the end of the month. My Hallowe'en pages are up on my web site, where I'm reminding you of the spooky elements in 'Beloved Stranger' and 'Journey's End.' Plus The Romance Studio is running a Spooktacular contest (details below). I shall donate a copy of 'Secret Services' as a prize.

My news on the book front is that 'Secret Services' (w/a Margrett Dawson) was released from Ellora's Cave in electronic format on September 17. Take a peek at www.ellorascave.com on the new releases page. I also heard this week that the book, under the original title 'The Game,' was a winner in the LWRA Jasmine contest in the erotica category.

My short erotica 'Fantasy Island' is in the anthology from Liquid Silver, 'Afternoon Delights'. The collection recently received a four star rating from Romantic Times Book Club.

This month in my newsletter you'll find:

- contest news and winners
- excerpts from the books of three author friends: one a romantic comedy, one a historical and one a romantica.
- news of NovelBooks 2 for1 offer
- the romance studio spooktacular event

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Like scary movies? Free books? Free advertising for YOUR books?

Then come play the TRS October Trivia Spooktacular! Throughout the month of October answer questions about scary movies (the answers are at the sites of some of our favorite authors) for your chance to win:

Readers:

1st place - 25 books
2nd place - 15 books
3rd place - 10 books
4th place - 7 books
5th place - 5 books

And there are some excellent reads (print and ebook) to choose from ya'll from the authors participating. )

Authors:

1st place - 6 months free advertising at TRS and/or TRS BLUE 2nd place - 3 months free advertising at TRS and/or TRS BLUE
3rd -5th places - 1 month free advertising at TRS and/or TRS BLUE

By 'place' we mean the folks with the most answers correct. )

Everyone can play - even the authors participating (if you are participating and selected your own trivia question and answer you just can't count that one)! You must be at least 18 years of age. All questions must be answered by October 31st - we'll post 2 or more questions each day in October.

Ready to play? Go to: 1. http://theromancestudio.com/trivia_form.php

Good luck!
The Romance Studio - the romance genre today
http://theromancestudio.com

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Meet my friend Elaine Hopper: url: http://www.elainehopper.com

new release: Purrfect Justice by NovelBooks Inc. at http://www.novelbooksinc.com, a romantic comedy, Real Woman-Real Romance book

Teaser: Mild-mannered, mousy blonde haired, four-eyed secretary by day exotic, dangerously exciting super heroine by night, Haley Yates twists Ft. Lauderdale police lieutenant Cole Fischer around her finger. Haley's afraid she's losing it, a regular split personality Sybil, when she winds up jealous
of her sexy alter ego who dresses up in a sexy Cat Woman Halloween costume to rescue Cole who cant seem to stay out of the way of mortal danger.
A real woman, real life romantic comedy which prove cool guys really do fall for girls who wear glasses, who identify with Clark Kent, and who can't play baseball.

Read an excerpt from Purrfect Justice::
Oh no! Was he here because he suspected her? She finger fluffed her curls, licked her lips, and squared her shoulders. Thrusting out her chest and pasting a smile on her face, she opened the door, still cradling the cookie dough in her arms. "Hi Cole. Isn't it rather late?" Despite trying hard to sound friendly and perky, her voice came out husky.

Cole's muscular frame filled her doorway. "I know I said we'd wait till Sunday or Monday, but I couldn't wait to see you." He strolled into her living room, and stopped when he spied Sher throwing more popcorn at the television. "Uh, did I interrupt something?" He gazed at her friend as if she were from a different planet. Then his gaze zeroed in on the mess.

Crimson stole up Sher's ruddy cheeks. It was the first time Haley had ever seen Sher flustered. "We were just watching Superman." She crawled on her knees to the television and started cleaning up the popcorn mess. "It's just ending."

Haley waved her off and wrinkled her nose. "I'll vacuum that up later."

Sher rose unsteadily to her feet and beelined for the door. "Wow, I didn't realize it was so late. I really have to get going." She paused at the hall, her hand on the knob. "We'll get it tomorrow night, right?"

Haley gulped, and nodded. "Sure thing." She willed her friend not to slip up and say the wrong thing, mentally pushing her out the door. "G'night."

Sher waved as she backed out and closed the door softly, leaving Haley and Cole alone.

Haley turned off the television before Cole could see what they had been watching. Of course, if he were anything like her, he'd have recognized the movie from the dialogue. So what if he recognized it? Watching Superman wasn't a crime. A movie didn't constitute proof that she was Cole's mystery
woman.

Cole came up behind her and grasped her shoulders in his large, calloused hands. His heat seeped into her, making her unbearably aware of him. "I couldn't wait to see you until Sunday." He nuzzled her ear, his tongue delving into the sensitive canal.

Shivering deliciously, she closed her eyes and leaned back against him. "Uhm. Wonderful." She hoped he wasn't seducing her only as part of a second, deadlier trap. But even if he was, she was on the verge of not caring as long as he didn't stop.

"You taste wonderful." His breath tickled her neck making her giggle. He scraped a finger along the bowl's edge, and then carried cookie dough to his mouth. He did it again but offered her the dough, his finger hovering in front of her mouth, teasing her lips.

She took his finger in her mouth and sucked off the dough and then licked off the vestiges, almost collapsing when he groaned into her ear.

"I bet you'd taste even more exquisite if I spread that dough all over you."
Before she could react, he spread cookie dough on her neck, his magic fingers mesmerizing her. Then he proceeded to prove his theory by licking it off.

She moaned, twisting in his arms. Emboldened by his actions, she unbuttoned his shirt and pulled the tails out of his pants. Taking a glob of dough, she rubbed it across his chest, totally engrossed in her job. Putting her lips to his chest, she licked the dough from it, swirling her tongue, delighted when he trembled against her.


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Mozart's Wife by Juliet Waldron was released this summer, also by Novel Books Inc. This book was a winner in the 1st Independent e-Book Awards.
Check out more at http://www.julietwaldron.com and http://www.novelbooksinc.com

Chapter One

At sixteen my big sister Aloysia looked like the painted goddesses who reclined voluptuously above our heads on the ceiling of the opera house. Like them, she was blonde, rosy, round breasted, and narrow waisted. Although she didn’t fall in love with Mozart, as both he and my parents so ardently desired, I did.

It happened because Papa staunchly maintained that no matter how tight things were, we could “always spare a little beer and some of Jo’s fine liver dumplings.” He was forever bringing home traveling musicians from the Court, absolutely certain that one of these fellows would be useful. Mama never believed his hospitality would yield anything to our advantage, but this peccadillo was the only one my father owned.

Some of our guests were famous, most were not. All, however, had exciting stories to tell about the great courts they’d seen and famous performers they’d heard. Besides, once they set eyes on Aloysia, they were glad to spend an evening giving impromptu lessons.

The most notable wanderer Papa brought home was Wolfgang Mozart. He had stopped at the Mannheim Court on his way to Paris. After composing a piece for one of our noblemen, Herr Mozart had required a copyist.

He was, naturally, directed to my Papa, whose desperation was such that he took on every kind of odd job. Of course, Papa knew of him; this “miracle of nature” who’d been entertaining kings since his sixth year.

After the copying job was done, Papa took the pay he’d just been given and invited the famous Herr Mozart to The Ox. After downing a stein of our famous beer, they would join in a harmony of a familiar tune; the treachery of the nobility. It quickly became apparent that our families had much in common. The story of Papa’s fall, without the questionable details with which Mama liked to embellish it, was central. Years ago, as a bailiff for one Baron Schonau, Papa had provided handsomely for his growing family.

His master, finding him compliant (what poor man with four daughters to dower is not?) involved him in a crooked business deal. When the deal went bad, Schonau had the perfect scapegoat. In the end, we had to flee the Baron’s lands in the middle of the night to escape arrest.

horseback, Papa decoyed the pursuing politzei away, while Mama and the rest of us were driven across the border of the electorate in a farm wagon. Under the hay was hidden our klavier and a wardrobe; the latter stuffed with a collection of whatever had come first to hand.

Mozart listened to this story of betrayal and ruin with great sympathy. He hated his master, Archbishop Colloredo, as thoroughly as Papa hated Baron Schonau. Mozart explained that his father, an educated man and an able musician, was constantly humiliated and bullied by the Archbishop. In fact, Wolfgang was in Mannheim because he had resigned his commission and was traveling through the world looking for another.

Archbishop Colloredo was Mozart’s devil and Baron Schonau was Papa’s. They called for more beer and pondered the great question of the day: whether a talented, hardworking man could make his way in a world dominated by aristocratic privilege.

“Would you share my table some evening, Herr Mozart?” asked Papa. “Nothing special, of course. Only what an unlucky German can offer. But my oldest girl cooks like an angel and my beautiful Aloysia, just sixteen, Herr Mozart, sings like one.”

Papa had sized up his companion. Such an invitation, a combination of earthly and musical pleasure, was irresistible.

****
Author Name: Patrice Michelle
Title: BAD IN BOOTS: HARM'S HUNGER (cowboy)
Release Date: Available now with Ellora's Cave.
My url: http://users.adelphia.net/~pmichelle
BAD IN BOOTS: HARM'S HUNGER
In order to meet her Great-aunt Sally's will stipulation to 'handle the sale personally,' Jena Hudson visits Texas to finalize the sale of her aunt's ranch to her neighbor, Harm Steele. What Jena didn't expect was
to fall for the rugged, sexy cowboy.

Harm might find Jena to be the most sensual creature he's ever met, but he won't let her sultry body be more than a satisfying distraction. He learned a long time ago that happily-ever-afters are best left for
childhood fantasies.

So what's a girl to do when she finds out the man of her dreams doesn't believe in a happy ending? Well, given the right set of circumstances.she'll create one for him.

BAD IN BOOTS: HARM'S HUNGER - A cowboy willing to fulfill all your fantasies.

When the elevator stopped on the lobby floor, Harm was thankful no one was there waiting to get on. He hit the Close Door button, fully intending to bask in this woman's beauty as long as he could. A lift of her eyebrow was the only indication she noticed he didn't punch a button for a different floor, only the eighth floor button was lit.20

As the elevator started to ascend, Harm asked, "Not from around here I take it?" He couldn't place her accent. Virginia maybe? But she had the huskiest voice, like Lauren Hutton's. It was so damn sexy he wanted to keep talking just to listen to her speak.

She gave a throaty laugh. "No. Just visiting."

As she stared up at the elevator lights, he took a moment to enjoy her luscious curves. Not one ounce of fat graced her nicely built body. She looked to be about five-eight or nine. A nice fit for his six foot
three frame. The first stirrings of arousal made itself known in his tightening crotch when he noticed her hard nipples pressed against her wet top. He let his gaze drop to her flat stomach and firm thighs.
Nice. He'd bet his last dollar she had an ass that begged to be squeezed. But unfortunately she had her hands crossed behind her back, holding a small hand towel against her damp suit.

The elevator stopped on the six floor but the doors didn't open. They both looked at each other and then he punched the button for the eighth floor to get it going again. Nothing happened. He hit the Open Door button but the doors didn't budge.

Harm lifted the emergency handset and dialed the front desk. Once he'd set the receiver back on its cradle, he turned to her and grinned. He couldn't help it. Now he had a few more minutes with her. It would take the front desk at least fifteen minutes to find maintenance. "Well, looks like you're stuck with me for a few."

He put his hands on the guardrail and leaned his back against the sidewall. She adopted the same position on the opposite wall, laughing. "So sit a spell and all that, huh?"

He chuckled. "Yeah, something like that. Where are you from?"

"Maryland."

"Here for long?"

She shook her head, her eyes twinkling. "Not officially."

A long moment of silence ensued as they both assessed each other. She had a beautiful oval face with almond shaped eyes and eyebrows slightly darker than her hair. But it was her lips that drew his attention. Free of lipstick, her full, naturally rosy lips made him throb. Those
lips were made for kissing.

Her unabashed gaze roamed his face and his body while he did the same, this time appreciating the full frontal view. If only he could see her breasts. Were her nipples large quarters or small dimes? He was dying to peel away her bathing su-. Just then, he couldn't believe his eyes, the front snap on her bikini top gave way and her luscious breasts spilled out as the lycra material snapped backward.

Her sharp, embarrassed intake of breath had him averting his gaze and turning his head while trying not to grin. Dimes. Perfect rose tipped dimes. She faced the wall and made frustrated sounds as she tried to get her suit back together.

"Um, excuse me. Would you mind doing me a favor?" She called over her shoulder.

She's kidding, right? He cleared his throat. "Sure, can I turn around?"

***
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*~*~*~*

CONTEST NEWS:

The three winners of my August thru September contest are : Lisa Wine; Chere Gruver and Phyllis Crabtree. Congratulations to each of these ladies, who are selecting their title from one of my publishers right now.

While I'm in Africa I shall continue offering one free download per month to each of two winners.Visit my web site www.patriciacrossley.com to enter


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Thank you for allowing me time in your busy lives once again. I’m interested in receiving your feedback on anything in this newsletter or on my website (www.patriciacrossley.com) . I’ve kept the format of the newsletter simple, so that it doesn’t cause a problem in your system. Please email me at patricia@patriciacrossley.com if you have any comments or suggestions. If you know anyone who would like to receive the newsletter, they only need to send me an email with ‘newsletter’ in the subject line. If you no longer wish to receive the newsletter, let me know by email and I will remove your name from the list. Happy reading!