Being focused on pushing forward to new and exciting story horizons, I don't like going back to revised old stories.
Usually.
But, as the blog post title says, never say never.
When a publisher put out a call and the submission guidelines specifically included previously published stories, I had two novels that fit the other specs. Well, after a few tweaks.
I've spent the past month or so revising them both. I was going to merely sub the revised versions, but liked them so much better, I published the new versions on Amazon and Smashwords. Once they go through the review process, Smashwords will release the updated version to its secondary affiliate sites such as Barnes and Noble, etc.
Fear not, I'm not going to be one of those authors stuck on their old stories, constantly updating the old with new versions. How many versions of one story can anyone read?
But I promise, these two are much better stories for the revisions.
That leaves only one more to finish. The Vitruvian Man trilogy of novellas (Cursed, Charmed and Claimed) will become one full-length novel. It's taken me forever because not only did life keep getting in the way, as so often happens, but the main character will undergo some major changes, and the story's going to go into more detail, as well. I'm hoping to finish that by the end of the year.
In the meanwhile, I hope you'll try the new and improved stories!
Surfacing is my contemporary fantasy, a 2009 Amazon Breakthrough Novel Award semi-finalist. The story follows a mermaid who meets and inspires a wannabe rock star. Set in Weeki Wachee Springs, home of the Weeki Wachee mermaids!
The fact they're both set in Florida is a happy coincidence. Or maybe Florida is a writer's muse? I did visit Ernest Hemingway's house while in Key West... maybe his ghost followed me home!
It feels like I haven't done a Casting Call in forever. I couldn't wait to show you this one! I love this story. It's a contemporary retelling of the Grimm fairy tale, The Griffin. I hadn't been familiar with this particular fairy tale, but it was fun to put a modern spin on it, with wizards and witches in a rock and roll setting.
Jackson Grant, the hero, is on the run from trouble. But no matter where he goes, trouble always finds him. With a helpful push from Grundy, a gnome who's a wiz at tattoos, Jackson heads in a new direction. And new trouble.
Jensen Ackles would make a perfect Jackson. And not just because I could look at him all day. Those eyes! *sigh*
Layla has been with the band Malcontent for years, but not as a musical member, and not by choice. Her magic is bound to the band, and she's forced to help them succeed. The granddaughter of Jimi Hendrix has stellar talent of her own, and is ready to break loose.
From the first, I had Zoey Saldana in mind as Layla.
Mal was a fun villain to write. He's a rock star, so of course he's a bad boy. He's also a wizard, but wastes his powers on trifles. He's blinded by success, and may or may not know (or care) the grueling pain he puts Layla through so his band can stay at the top of the charts.
Mal was always Tom Hiddleston.
There are other characters, but those are the main players in the story.
I hope you enjoyed this Casting Call. And I hope you enjoy The Griffin's Secret!
At 37,
Cynthia Winterspoon is a self-made millionaire, more popular than Martha
Stewart. Women love her decorating and recipe ideas for every season, geared
toward shabby chic, affordable for the middle class. Cynthia lives by her
motto: Make your life enjoyable. Except that her husband just left her for a
woman barely out of high school, and is suing her for everything she has. The
scandal’s rocked her world, but nothing compared to the shakeup after she meets
rock star Rex Reynolds.
Rex
Reynolds, rock god and general mess, has everything he could possibly need—except
love. The real kind, that inspires the greatest love songs. An appearance on a
late night talk show seems just another gig until he meets Cyn, the sweetest,
kindest woman whose thoughtfulness touches his soul. When a motorcycle accident
robs him of his memory, one image blazes bright in his mind: Cyn. He’s
convinced she’s his fiancee. Now all that stands between him and true happiness
is her hesitancy.
Can his amnesia
help them both remember what’s most important?
Casting Call (coming soon)
Reviews (coming soon)
Excerpt
If only
he’d take off those damn sunglasses, she’d have a better idea of what he was
thinking. Maybe.
“They were
right.” He jutted out his chin.
“Who?” Had
he heard something? Known all along about her husband? Maybe he was the real
tabloid spy. She released an inward groan.
“Whoever
said you were a good listener. I’ve never bared my thoughts to anyone else.”
She
practically melted with relief. “You are, too. I feel better having let it all
out.” To a complete stranger. Not her smartest move.
“So do I.
I actually feel as if a weight’s been lifted from me.” He tore off the Ray Bans
and leaned toward her. “Don’t let any man treat you less than a princess.”
She ducked
her head. Not even as a girl had she dreamed of being royalty. Frilly dresses?
Too hard to climb trees wearing them. Nor were palaces her style, debutante
balls or any of the other nonsense. None of it seemed much fun.
“I’m not
very good with pedestals. Unless I’m giving it a makeover.” But she could
imagine him a prince, easily. Light blue flecked his dark blue eyes, the effect
mesmerizing. “You have lovely eyes.”
A slow
smile crept over his face. “Too much mascara and liner, I’m told.”
“A
little.” Way more than her. “But I imagine you need the look to maintain your
image. And you wear it well.”
Brows
furrowed, he leaned even closer. “Who are you?”
Warmth
flushed her face. “Should have introduced myself earlier, sorry.” After
recovering from the near-faint, perhaps? Or should she have waited until after
insulting him? “Cynthia Winterspoon.” She extended her hand.
“A princess
name if I ever heard one.” He bent his head to touch his lips to her fingers,
cradled gently in his hand.
Excitement
tiptoed across her skin. She forgot to argue against the royal title.
“Well,
Cyn.” He made it sound so sexy and slightly devilish. “You have lovely eyes,
too.” His gaze swept down to her lips, her cleavage. “Lovely… everything. But
your eyes, they’re captivating. The term ‘doelike’ comes to mind. I haven’t
seen any woman pull off such an innocent-sexy combo since Marilyn Monroe. I bet
you’re a real man eater, aren’t you?”
No, but
she’d be willing to learn. She almost forgot to breathe. And something even
more important. “What’s your name?”
Surprise
flickered across his face. “Rex Reynolds.”
“And
you’re in a band? What do you do, play guitar?” Up close, he lost some of the
bad boy mystique. His scruffy look had been carefully cultivated—too much hair
product gave the stringy effect. His clothes were rumpled, but clean. The scent
of coconut and lime teased her senses. The stubble on his chin couldn’t be more
than a day old.
“Not a
fan, eh?” He shot a dubious glance at her boots. “Let me guess. Country music?”
She tilted
her chin. “Classical.”
“Wagner,
Rachmaninoff, Beethoven? That sort?” He knit his brow. “Nothing contemporary?”
She
repressed the urge to apologize. “My parents forbade it.”
Another
full body scan, ripe with appreciation, left her feeling more naked than she
could remember.
He took
her hands in his. “You’re all grown up now, Cyn. Take a walk on the wild side.”
Spoken like a flirty tease, and a challenge that invited her somewhere soft and
warm, where her wildest, most decadent dreams could come true.
I hope you'll pop over to Long and Short Reviews, where I'm plying my wares... I mean, blogging today about Rock Bottom, my upcoming contemporary release. :)
Woo hoo! I'm so excited release day's almost here. I love this story!
Okay, I love all my stories but this one's especially special to me. The heroine, Billie Prescott, is smart and snarky. Her passion is music, and as a rock journalist, she combines her personal passion with her professional life. I wish I were her!
Jet Trently is every rock star I loved growing up, but more heroic. Also smart and snarky, he makes music that touches every woman's heart and soul. *sigh* lol
Here's the blurb:
For rocker Jet Trently, success means playing the same platinum-selling hits over and over. Philly rock journalist Billie Prescott thrives on covering the latest releases. When her editor sends her to Malibu to cover Jet’s reality dating show, Rock Bottom, her blog’s success keeps her trapped there. Her life’s at Rock Bottom too, until she hears Jet’s new songs. They touch her heart as his music did when she was 15. When Jet touches her heart as well, will the reality show ruin the real thing?
Here's a mini-excerpt, just after Billie arrives in Malibu to meet the producers of Rock Bottom, Jet Trently's reality dating show:
Billie affected a sharp business tone. “Already did. I’m Billie Prescott from Strung Out. My editor spoke with Mr. Gilbert about covering the show?”
Jet’s eyes widened. “You’re Billie Prescott?”
Billie had a feeling she’d just made Jet’s Lust Have list, though she had no doubt the list, if printed, would require reams of paper. If he licked his lips, she’d be out of there before he could retract his tongue. “You’re expecting me, aren’t you?”
“Billie Prescott, yes. You--no.” His appreciative gaze wandered the length of her.
The trio chuckled in unison.
Like she didn’t get that same response every freakin’ time. Biting back a snide reply, she forced out, “Do you have an information packet for me? Something that will help me catch up on where season one ended?”
Stu glanced at Jet. “Cindy can put something together.”
Jet tilted his head. “Not a fan, eh?”
If she didn’t know better, she’d think he appeared pleased.
Wrinkling her nose, she grinned. Let that be answer enough.
“Pity you weren’t a contestant.” He arched a brow and turned to the third man. “Now there’s an idea.”
While published with The Wild Rose Press, it topped the bestseller list. I'm grateful to this publisher for believing in my work. Seventh Heaven was my first published ebook.
Fallen Angel Reviews rated it a Recommended Read. Other reviewers have called it “a wonderful story”; “an uplifting romance set in a turbulent, unique time period. I did not want it to end”; “a read that will leave you on the edge of your seat. The deep and powerful setting of this story had me wiping away tears while cheering James on”; and “This book brought about emotions that I found refreshing. Cate Masters is a gifted writer who wrote this book with talent and marvelous imagery. I could almost see, taste, hear and touch what was occurring in "Seventh Heaven." If you are looking for a book with a wonderful plot that is very well written as well as being entertaining, "Seventh Heaven" is the book for you.”
Here’s the story blurb:
Lilah owns the New Hope Record and Crafts Shop with her friend, Val. Independent and free-spirited, they sell their handmade jewelry and pottery to tourists in their Delaware River town. Lilah’s only hangup is James, who bartends down the street. She’s crazy about him, but lately he’s been cold and distant. Turns out he has reason to be down--he’s had his ticket punched for Vietnam. Lilah makes him a lucky leather-string choker using a silver ankh--the Egyptian symbol of eternity.James is skeptical about its lucky charms, but warms to her again. For seven months, James is in Vietnam. He comes home changed, in more ways than one. Can Lilah show him that her love is all the luck he needs?
And an excerpt:
James stood in the open doorway. The choker gleamed from his neck. “I came by to say thanks.”
The distance she’d felt between them last night was gone. His warm eyes searched hers, reaching again for a connection.
“I didn’t know it was you.” She stepped from behind the counter. No more barriers between them.
He closed the door. “So. Thanks.”
“You’re welcome. It looks good. It’s an–”
“An ankh. I know.” Something seemed to be holding him back, but somehow she knew she must be patient, and let him come to her.
“The Egyptian symbol of eternity.” She didn’t know what to do with her hands, and her breath was jagged. “Sorry. I mean, Ben told us. It really stinks you’re leaving.”
He ran a finger across a glazed jug. “Bad timing.”
She clasped her hands in front of her. “I guess it’s never a good time…”
He glanced up and flashed a switchblade smile. “I mean, I wish we had more time.” His soft voice rushed at her like the wind and billowed the sails of her heart’s rocky boat.
The air thinned, seemed rarified. “Me, too.”
He stepped closer. Time felt maddeningly slow. She wanted to run to him, fill her arms with him.
Instead, she crossed her arms. “I hope you’ll write me, if you get a chance.”
“Yeah?”
He was within arm’s reach. His gaze flowed over her inch by inch, over every curve and hollow.
The floor needed sweeping. And needed to be smaller. Or his steps needed to be more expansive. “Sure, I’ll keep you up on the local gossip. Send you goodie packages.” A lock of her hair. A photo of herself so he’d think of her every day. And night.
His eyes locked on hers. “That’d be nice.”
“We’re going to miss you around here.”
“You will?” The timbre of his voice rumbled inside her like an earthquake.
With his last step, he was so close her skin tingled with his heat. “No one can make a margarita like you.”
He fingered her hair, tucked a strand behind her shoulder. “Come back tonight. I’ll make you all the margaritas you can drink.”
In her head she was already there, sipping at a wide-rimmed glass, serenaded by Dylan in the background, James attending to her alone. “OK.”
“See you about seven, then?”
She smiled. “Seven it is.”
He backed toward the door, slowly, as if still taking her in. The silver ankh winked in the light as he turned to leave.
Today, the wonderful bloggers at Moonlight, Lace and Mayhem are opening their blog to me to discuss how music can influence stories. It's certainly been a big influence on my life, so I can't help but include it in stories. I hope you'll pop over and share your thoughts! The title of that blog alone conjures many images, doesn't it?
I also start a three-day stay at Desert Island Keepers. Ahh, when you see that blog header, you'll know why I'm there. So pull up a hammock, grab an umbrella drink and join me there.
Woot! My fantasy novel, Surfacing, is now available in ebook format from Whiskey Creek Press. A print edition will soon be available from Amazon.
I finished this trailer over the weekend. It's one of the shortest I've created, but I think it does the job well. What do you think?
Here's an excerpt: “Look out!” a woman screamed as the gator closed in. Something slammed into his stomach and whooshed him beneath the water. A second slam, more like a thud, and he thought it was all over. For both of them. The thing gripped him without hurting him somehow, but moved so fast, AJ thought his body might break from the pressure of the speed. It felt like hurtling through the canal on an underwater express train, rolling as they went. As his lungs felt near to bursting, they slowed and surfaced. Whatever held him released him by propelling him face-down onto a grassy bank. Gasping for air, he scrambled up the side to escape it, but his arms and legs flailed, more spectacle than anything. “What were you doing?” a girl’s rich, full voice asked. He glanced over his shoulder, still grasping at the bank for leverage. He fell to the grass, stunned. Instead of the ugly head of an alligator leering at him in a crocodile smile, the girl, even more gorgeous up close, leaned her hands on the bank and lifted herself up. Her wet hair clung to her chest and waist. Too many questions flew through his head at once. “What?” he managed. “You could have been killed. Why did you do that?” Her green eyes sparkled like emeralds flecked with onyx. Her long dark hair framed her porcelain face and rosebud lips. His chest heaved. “You’re kidding, right? I saved you.” She burst into laughter. Like bells tinkling, like music. Fascination turned to irritation. He risked his life for her. “What? That alligator would’ve killed you.” This made her laugh all the harder, her laughter like a melody he couldn’t quite place, though familiar. The alligator drifted toward them on its side, like a log. Unmoving. Unconscious. She giggled. “It won’t hurt you now.” AJ glanced downriver to where the boat should have been. “What happened? Where’s the boat?” He held a hand to his head. He wished she’d stop laughing. The sound got inside his brain, jumbled his already knotted thoughts. And every time she looked at him, her eyes hypnotized him—their whites so clear and bright, the green shone like gemstones. Like no other eyes he’d ever seen. Glancing upstream, she smiled. “Right where you left it.” “No. I left it right there.” He still couldn’t catch his breath. Or his mind. She twisted up and sat on the bank. “No, you left it around the bend. Remember?” As she turned her head, her hair shifted, revealing the curve of a breast. AJ blinked, thinking his eyesight might have been affected by the impact. But he could see as clear as ever. The old biddy was right. “You’re not wearing clamshells.” Her glittering eyes snapped to his. “What?” His mind raced. If this girl was what he thought she was, he wanted to get closer. He slumped on the bank, letting his feet slide closer to her. “What are you doing out here? You’re not with the show.” She tossed her head, and her hair swirled across her like a glossy curtain, tantalizing him. She edged toward the water. “No.” The end of her tail rose, then swished beneath the canal. For a moment, he’d caught sight of it, the colors exactly as Grandpa had described: iridescent, ever-changing, like rich silk. He shifted closer for a better view. The transformation from skin to tail was seamless. Undetectable. It was no costume.
For rocker Jet Trently, success means playing the same platinum-selling hits over and over. Philly rock journalist Billie Prescott thrives on covering the latest releases. When her editor sends her to Malibu to cover Jet’s reality dating show, Rock Bottom, her blog’s success keeps her trapped there. Her life’s at Rock Bottom too, until she hears Jet’s new songs. They touch her heart as his music did when she was 15. When Jet touches her heart as well, will the reality show ruin the real thing?
I was captivated by this story just from its blurb. I am a very big music fan and did watch Rock of Love so I found it very interesting to see how an author could make a story from that concept. And Cate Masters did it perfectly! One of the things I am very fond of when I read is the imagery authors try to portrait and Cate does it beautifully. The way she describes the scenery of the house, the hills and sand gives you a perfect picture in your mind.
The chemistry, tension and conflicts between the characters were written exceptionally well, made me keep turning the page to see how they were going to resolve some of their issues. It had just the right amount of steamy scenes as well, did not feel thrown in just for the sake of having one like some other stories I have read. Anyone who grew up in the 80’s will appreciate the music references in this book as well, had be nodding my head yes in more than one occasion lol.
The cottage appeared tiny from the outside, but actually had two stories if the bedroom loft counted. A boomerang-shaped overstuffed sofa dominated the main floor, and cabinets topped with bookshelves lined either wall. In a small nook sat a ceramic-topped iron bistro table and two chairs.
As cozy as a beach getaway.
She swung her carryon bag atop the tufted ottoman. Turning to retrieve her suitcases, she stopped short.
Jet leaned against the doorway. If his presence had been palpable in the house, he overwhelmed this small space.
His lopsided smile appeared almost shy. “Need any help settling in?”
The personal touch. If he hoped to make it literal, he could forget it. Despite her resolve, she found him overwhelmingly distracting. She had trouble recalling what she’d planned to do.
Glancing around, she thought she’d be pretty pathetic if she claimed to need help. “Nope, I think I can find everything.”
Stepping inside, he closed the door and moved toward her slowly. Purposefully.
Her pulse quickening, she tensed, but couldn’t find her voice to ask what he wanted.
He touched the cabinet. “There’s a small fridge under here. I’ll have Cindy stock it for you.”
Nodding, she tucked her hair behind her ear. “Great. Thanks.” She felt sure he must hear her heart pounding. And think her an idiot. “It’s an adorable little place. You’re saving the magazine a bundle by letting me stay here.”
When he moved closer, his crystal blue eyes felt like a laser piercing her own.
To clear her head, she turned away. “It’s situated perfectly too. Right next to the house.” Could she possibly sound any more brainless?
She sensed him directly behind her. His soft tone made her muscles go fluid. Her eyes drifted shut, imagining his famous voice singing to her alone.
“If you look out your bedroom window, you can see into mine. Right over there.” His arm lifted beside her and pointed.
His warmth penetrated her skin. He smelled like ocean and musk. An impulse struck her to guide his arm around her, fit herself against him. Fill her senses with him.
Snapping to reality, she fumed at his flirting, but made her voice sweet as honey. “Oh, over there? I appreciate you telling me.” Smiling, she turned. “I’ll be sure to keep my curtains closed.”
Tensing, he straightened, and his nostrils flared.
Her muscles drew taut in response. You shouldn’t have made him mad--not the first day.
But his eyes crinkled at the corners, and he cocked his jaw and nodded. “Billie Prescott.” He said her name with a kind of wonder.
Not quite knowing what to make of it, she gave a giddy laugh. And wanted to die. “Jet Trently. We finally meet.” As though she’d been waiting. Or it had been prearranged. By whom? The universe?
To recover her composure, she went to her bag and pulled out her laptop. “Any internet connection in here?”
He flopped onto the sofa and extended his arms across the back. “Wireless, pretty much from everywhere.” With a kind of amused curiosity, he watched her. “We need to talk.”
Her mind blanked. The way he spoke sounded so intimate, as if he wanted to discuss their relationship. His gaze seared into her, and she had trouble remembering they had no relationship. “About what?”
His mouth curled into a smile. “The show. Don’t you want to interview me?”
She felt her face flush. He played a cat and mouse game. And he’d trapped her already.
In the meanwhile, I hope you'll try the new and improved stories!
