Summary Sunday

The temperatures are soaring in Arizona, but my hero is off fighting a war in the chilly month of March.

It's hard to write about camp fires when it's 115 degrees outside. Then again, I suppose it's one way to try to psych oneself through an Arizona summer!

Here are some new sentences from The Lady and the Minstrel.

Monday: Robert knew he should not cling to the surname, not with Kit Beckford in Gunthar’s camp, but if he was going to fight and possibly die for the king, he would do it as his father’s son, not some nameless minstrel.

Tuesday: Sometimes when Robert wrapped himself in his cloak, he fancied he could still smell Beck Manor in the threadbare cloth, though rationally he knew the scent had faded years ago.

Wednesday: “Mint plays havoc with one’s temper, and I am already cross enough.”

Thursday: He felt his blood churn up in anger, even as he wondered who Sir Warin was.

Friday: Robert noticed he did not mention villeins. That would be like acknowledging the milkmaid’s cow.

Saturday: He had been hungry to hear of her, but such slurs as this?

Summary Sunday

I only worked on The Lady and the Minstrel five days this week, because I devoted Saturday to another

little project. Here's a sampling of my Monday-Friday progress.

Monday: Robert knew exactly how many more heartbeats he had to savor the farewell in her lips before he need send her away to avoid discovery—and he meant to relish every one.

Tuesday: “Lord Cold-as-a-Fish, sneering down his nose at us these twelve years, making us grovel for his favor, crushing anyone whose glance offended him, Lord Lick-My-Boots-or-I’ll-Kick-Your-Ribs was finally disconcerted.”

Wednesday: Men who failed to consciously register his music often sensed the change when it ceased, though seemingly with little awareness of exactly what had altered in their surroundings.

Thursday: Robert had kept his head down when Kit Beckford walked past him, but some devilish daring in him had held Strode’s gaze steady.

Friday: The light of a torch set up on a bracket near the sentry point sent a ripple of fire down the threatening blade and lapped across the muddied face of a dazed and frightened young man.

Summary Sunday

My hero, Robert, had to work his way through some difficult memories and emotions this week, which
it was equally difficult for the author to write. (That would be me. :-) ) Now that is behind us, we're about to make a major pivot in the story, if nothing unforeseen arises to interrupt my flow this week.

Here are a few new lines from The Lady and the Minstrel.

Monday: He began to reassure her about being the sole love of his life, but memory and honesty checked him.

Tuesday: “Lottie and Alan wished to marry, but they could not without Kit’s consent, for any children she bore to Alan would become Sir Stephen’s villeins and Kit would lose their future labor.”

Wednesday: “Now that he was lord he could have run me through with his sword for the offense and suffered no more than a token fine, at worst, and likely not even that, for who would blame him for putting down a dog that’d grown vicious?”

Thursday: He remembered the wild exhilaration that had flowed through him as the three of them had ran together through the woods, guided only by a silvery half-moon that dappled the forest floor through the canopy of branches.

Friday: That had been the darkest day of Robert’s life after his father’s death, and in some ways it had been worse, for he could not have saved his father, but if he had been more careful, more cautious—if he had thought before he acted—he might have saved Lottie.

Saturday: “Kit clamored to his feet, infuriated, and swung his fist at me, but I dodged and hit him again.”

Summary Sunday

I missed one day this week because I spent the last night of my sister's visit with her instead of writing.

Then between Tuesday and Wednesday, I decided to rewrite the scene I'd been working on from an entirely different angle and POV. So Tuesday's sentence is no longer in The Lady and the Minstrel, although a friend said I should post my deleted scene on my website when I finish this book, so you never know, you may get to read it in context someday after all.

Monday: (Last night with my sister, spent the evening with her)

Tuesday: But something had provoked him six years after his father’s shame to risk his life in flight, for one man did not set hounds on another unless the hunter was prepared to hazard his pack savaging their prey.

Wednesday: Robert found it hard to hate a man who so clearly loved and respected his wife, even if nine times out of ten when Robert sang for the Earl and Countess of Gunthar, the earl behaved as if Robert wasn’t even there.

Thursday: His grey hair attested to his long life, the creases in his face that it had not been an easy one.

Friday: “I know what happened then,” Robert snapped. He had stood here babbling with Simon like a fool while Marguerite prepared to bring disaster down upon their heads.

Saturday: “I said something much worse in the end. I said that villeins should be free.”

Thanks to you all, I'm a RONE Award finalist!

Thank you to all of you who took the time to vote for one or all of my 2012 stories, Dangerous Favor, A Candlelight Courting, and/or A Timeless Romance: 2012 Winter Edition (which included my medieval short story, "Caroles on the Green") for a RONE Award sponsored by InD'Tale Magazine! Thanks to you, ALL of my stories passed the "reader preference" phase of the competition and are finalists for a 2012 RONE Award! Dangerous Favor, A Candlelight Courting, and A Timeless Romance each now advance to a panel of professional judges who will determine the best overall book of 2012.

The winner and runners-up will be announced and presented at the 2012 RONE Award Ceremony on August 9th at the Romance Novel Convention in Las Vegas, Nevada. I don't know if I'll be able to attend, but I am thrilled even to be in the running, and I owe it all to you, my dear, faithful, supportive readers.

THANK YOU SO MUCH!

Summary Sunday

My sister has been visiting me this week, plus Saturday was an all-day/all-night headache kind of day (and night), so I only got three days of writing in on The Lady and the Minstrel. On the bright side—I got three days of writing in on The Lady and the Minstrel. J Here is a sampling of what I accomplished his week.

Monday: Even with Lord Christopher nearly on his heels, Robert kissed her one more time, as though he could not get enough of her—or perhaps she merely interpreted his passion thus because she could not get enough of him.

Tuesday: (Late night with my sister, no writing.)

Wednesday: (My sister’s birthday and another late night, no writing)

Thursday: She shook out the skirts of her gown as though the gesture could shake away her nervousness.

Friday: From the confident, satisfied gleam in his eyes whenever they rested on her, she knew he thought he had cowed her at last into submission with his vicious defeat of Sir Warin.

Saturday: (Headache and late night with my sister)