MIDNIGHT MY LOVE
by Anne Marie Novark
ISBN 978-4523-6472-8

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The rakish Viscount Rochdale, Damien Avenall, loved Alexandra Turlington like a little sister; or so he thought until Alex grew into a lovely and desirable young lady. In a moment of madness, he kissed her and everything changed between them. Harboring a lifelong distrust of beautiful women, he believed they could no longer be friends.

Ten years pass and Damien finds himself escorting Alexandra’s critically-wounded brother home to Willowmede, where he must face the only woman he’s ever truly wanted; the one woman he can never have. He is determined to exorcise Alex from his heart once and for all, even if it means he must kiss her again . . . one last time.

Alex often wonders why Damien betrayed their special friendship. The kiss they shared awakened her to passion, but she knows better than to give her heart to a libertine. Or does she? When the viscount offers to stay and help nurse her brother back to health, Alexandra discovers her heart has always belonged to Damien. But this time, she wants more than his friendship. This time, she wants it all.

EXCERPT:

“Damn you, Alexandra Turlington. Why did you have to grow up to be so beautiful?” Damien covered her mouth with his and kissed her, tasting her as he’d been dying to do since the first day he’d arrived at Willowmede. He didn’t know whether he hated or loved her. The thought made him try to push her away, but Alex clasped her arms around his neck and pulled him back.

He stared at her a moment, then, laughing harshly, he kissed her forehead, her eyes, her nose. He felt her come up on tiptoe; she clung to him, pressing her lips to his. A bolt of white heat coursed through his body. God, she was sweet! So responsive. So delicious. He gathered her closer, kissed her deeply and lost himself to all rational thought.

Alex was unprepared for Damien’s sensual onslaught. The dim recollection of that first kiss they shared so long ago paled in comparison to reality. Her stomach fluttered and an expectant pressure built in her chest. Desire raged in her veins, strengthened by Damien’s hard body pressed against her.

She knew she was playing with fire, yet she couldn’t help herself. The unleashed passion in Damien’s powerful frame and the sexual hunger gleaming in his golden eyes tantalized her body to respond. Alex wanted more–she had waited so long.

CHASING THE MOONLIGHT
by Anne Marie Novark
ISBN 1-6015-656-4

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www.thewildrosepress.com

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Bad boy Mitch Defalco roars into Stone Creek, Texas, on the back of a Harley with his newly discovered daughter riding behind him. Single mom Sarah Cooper cannot believe he’s moved next door. Mitch dated her older sister back in high school, and Sarah had a secret crush on him.

As Mitch struggles with his new role of fatherhood, Sarah admires how he’s turned his life around. She asks him to help her with a problem: her fear of men. Mitch knows he’s bad news for sexy Sarah, but how can he refuse her dangerous request, when she’s determined to move forward, with or without his help?

EXCERPT:

The swing dipped as Mitch sank down beside her. Sarah angled into her corner and pulled her knees close to her chest, glad her long skirt covered most of her. But her bare toes peeked out, reminding her of the night she had gone over to see about a sick Lindsey and the intimacy of the dimly lit hallway. The closeness of Mitch, bare-chested, half-clothed—

“You’re dripping.”

Sarah blinked. “What?”

Mitch reached over and wiped the corner of her mouth with his thumb. His touch lingered for a second or two, burning her skin. Black eyes trapped hers and Sarah couldn’t make herself look away.

Had he figured out what she’d been thinking? About that night in his hallway?

He held up his thumb. “Ice cream. You’re dripping.”

“Oh. Thanks.” She didn’t have a napkin and before she thought, she licked where his finger had touched.

The swing jerked as Mitch went rigid, his eyes burning on hers. The air crackled with electricity.

Her ice cream was melting fast. Probably from the heat radiating between them. Chocolate and vanilla oozed down her fingers.

“Damn!” Sarah tried to stand, but Mitch detained her with a strong grip on her shoulder. His touch threatened a meltdown, not only of her cone, but her insides as well.

“Wait a minute.” He removed his hand and dug in his pocket. “Here you go.” He handed her a clean white handkerchief.

“Thanks.” Sarah’s hand trembled as she wiped the messy goop from her fingers and hand. While she cleaned herself, she didn’t say anything. What was there to say? She didn’t want to acknowledge the sensual feelings pounding through her like a percussionist beating on a drum. She didn’t know if she could carry through on those feelings. Didn’t know if she really wanted to.

And what about Mitch? He wasn’t married, but was he seeing someone?

The silence between them grew almost deafening. The only sound was the scrape of the swing’s chains on the ceiling hooks as they rocked back and forth. Mitch kept them moving with the toe of his cowboy boot on the porch floor.

Sarah finished her task and offered the handkerchief back. He took it from her—their fingers brushed in passing. She gasped at the brief contact. Every nerve ending exploded with awareness. Mitch’s eyes burned like two hot coals as he stuffed the handkerchief in his pocket.

Still, neither spoke. The sun slowly dipped below the horizon, the western sky shimmered with reds and oranges and purples. The air smelled of honeysuckle and jasmine. Lightning bugs flickered here and there in the distance.

Mitch threw his arm over the back of the swing and leaned forward until their faces were very close. He looked at her mouth, then into her eyes. “I want to kiss you, Sarah Smiles.”

Mitch didn’t wait for permission. He moved in closer, touching his lips to hers, pressing gently, letting them both get a feel for the other. He’d sworn he wasn’t going to kiss Sarah Cooper, but sitting next to her on the swing like this, she was a temptation he had no power to resist.

For a minute, she didn’t respond and he worried that he’d overstepped his welcome. Then her lips trembled beneath his, and she exhaled a soft sigh. A little moan in the back of her throat and he scooted closer, put his arms around her shoulders and pulled her forward.

Mitch deepened the kiss, taking it to the next level, swiping his tongue against her lips. She opened for him, tilting her head for better access and he slid inside her mouth. She tasted of chocolate and vanilla and the sweet essence of Sarah . . .

HER RELUCTANT RANCHER
by Anne Marie Novark
ISBN 1-60154-251-8

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www.thewildrosepress.com

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www.amazon.com
www.barnesandnoble.com

Construction tycoon Trevor Callahan returns to Stone Creek, Texas, to settle his grandfather’s estate. He wants to sell the Rocking C Ranch so he can put his unhappy past behind him and move on. Living with his stern grandfather taught Trev an important lesson: Caring makes a man weak.

Single-mom Beth Evans once confused lust for love and will never let it happen again. She drives the Stone Creek bookmobile and is trying to raise funds to build a new library. In his will, Hank Callahan bequeathed a million dollars for the project, but attached one stipulation: Do not let his grandson sell the ranch.

EXCERPT:

All Beth’s good intentions about keeping her distance flew out the window. “Listen, Mr. Hotshot, I said I’d go and I will. Unless you don’t want me to?” Maybe he didn’t want her company. Maybe the kiss they shared hadn’t affected him at all. Trevor’s life and his world were far out of Beth’s realm of reality. And the women he knew were very different from her. Maybe he’d found her lacking. Maybe she was only imagining the electricity zipping between them.

He leveled those gray eyes on her. “Oh, I want you.”

Beth swallowed. No way could she misinterpret his meaning. “You want me to go to Laredo with you?”

“That too.” He leaned across the desk. “You know, we haven’t discussed the kiss the other night.”

She scooted the chair back. “There’s nothing to discuss.”

He stood and slowly came around the desk, reached for her hand and pulled her to her feet. “I want to kiss you again.”

“That’s probably not a good idea.” Oh, lord. She was playing with fire and if she wasn’t careful, she was going to get burned. Bad.

“Probably not. I know you said we’d never kiss again. But don’t you want to kiss me? Can’t you feel the pull between us?”

“Yes… No!” She jerked her hand free and started backing away.

He followed, closing in on her until she bumped against the library table. “Just one kiss, Beth. One kiss can’t hurt.”

Before she could react, before she could reply, Trevor wrapped his arms around her, covered her mouth with his and God help her, she was a goner.

Midnight My Love
A Regency Romance

The rakish Viscount Rochdale, Damien Avenall, loved Alexandra Turlington like a little sister; or so he thought until Alex grew into a lovely and desirable young lady. In a moment of madness, he kissed her and everything changed between them. Harboring a lifelong distrust of beautiful women, he believed they could no longer be friends.

Ten years pass and Damien finds himself escorting Alexandra’s critically-wounded brother home to Willowmede, where he must face the only woman he’s ever truly wanted; the one woman he can never have. He is determined to exorcise Alex from his heart once and for all, even if it means he must kiss her again . . . one last time.

Alex often wonders why Damien betrayed their special friendship. The kiss they shared awakened her to passion, but she knows better than to give her heart to a libertine. Or does she? When the viscount offers to stay and help nurse her brother back to health, Alexandra discovers her heart has always belonged to Damien. But this time, she wants more than his friendship. This time, she wants it all.

Coming soon to Kindle, Smashwords and Lulu!!!

“The writing itself is fantastic, and the pace is steady for a book of this length. Ms. Novark is a fantastic storyteller, and has a wonderful grasp for writing very emotionally charged scenes. There is far more here than a romance, but rather, this is a story with complexity and substance, which is everything a reader could ask for and more.”
Read the full review

Got Erotic Romance
Reviewed by Starla Kaye
Overall Rating: 5 Diamonds

“I love “bad boy” stories and “wounded women” stories, so the combination was wonderful. Both Mitch and Sarah have spent years dealing with issues that have been hard to put behind them. They need each other. She needs to help him understand that he’s a far better man and father than he thinks. He needs to help her get over the terrible incident in her past. Their kids need to help Mitch and Sarah move beyond what is keeping them apart so they can become a family. It was enjoyable to follow the struggling romance, and to watch this special man learn to be a father.”
Read the full review

There’s a lot of advice about what editors want, what agents will not tolerate, how to submit to which publishers, how long to wait to enquire about submissions, contest rules, how to write to win as opposed to how to write to sell… With so much information at hand, a writer can understandably become overwhelmed.

For the past five years, this has been my own personal problem. Before I “knew” anything, writing was a joy. Every morning, I couldn’t wait to get on the computer to write. I wrote everyday and watched the pages of each manuscript grow until I would come to the end and then start the process all over. Ah, ignorance was bliss.

Then I started attending conferences, workshops, and online seminars; I joined Yahoo Groups and forums; I read countless articles on authors’ websites and books on craft. My brain was in hyper drive, my creativity in dry dock, and my confidence shattered. The more I was learning, the less I seemed to know. This doesn’t mean writers should not hone their craft. Knowledge is power, but don’t let it stop you in your tracks and keep you from writing. The best way to learn the craft of writing is to write.

So there I was— frozen into immobility. What could I do? I had to write; I couldn’t quit. I was miserable not writing. Every once in a while, I would start a project, but stop way before it was finished. I was letting every little thing keep me from writing. Oh yes, I was miserable.

Recently, something inside of me dramatically changed… or rebelled. I decided to allow my subconscious writer’s brain to have at it. For five years, I’ve been inputting data. Now, I’m going to “forget” all the rules and write the kinds of stories I like to read, and write them how I want to write them. I’m putting my faith in my subconscious brain to access the required data as needed, and let it flow through my fingertips to the keyboard and onto the page. Writing is magical and mystical anyway. Why not allow it free rein? So far, it’s working for me. I don’t want to jinx myself, but I believe I’ve rediscovered the joy. Once again, I look forward to sitting at the computer and immersing myself into the story I’m writing. Why don’t you give it a try? What can you lose?

As a result, every word you write will come from deep within your psyche, from your heart, and from your soul.
The words you choose, the paragraphs you write, how you structure your sentences, the white space on the page, even the way you punctuate will be distinctively yours. The underlying themes that emerge, the pace and flow of the prose, the nuances, similes and metaphors—all of these things make up your voice without you even trying.

Voice is the personality of your writing. Some authors’ voices are in your face, so strong that readers either love it or hate it. Other authors’ voices are subtle, so smooth that it’s almost not there. Don’t be fooled; it is.

Your voice is how the writing sounds not only in your head and the reader’s head, but it’s how it sounds coming off the page and read aloud. There’s a rhythm, a cadence to the prose. Voice can literally be music to your ears. And just as you may prefer rock and roll over opera, that doesn’t mean opera is bad; it simply means that it doesn’t appeal to you or resonate from within—so too with books.

How do you find your voice? First, learn the rules of grammar, study writing techniques, and hone your craft. After which, you must stifle your inner critic and internal editor, and write from the heart and from the gut. When it’s time to revise, listen to that voice in your head and don’t edit it out of your work, because that voice is what makes your writing yours and yours alone.