tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-50715423315309831182024-03-05T19:55:19.708-05:00Have Your Cake & Read It TooErin Knightleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09368123673970225476noreply@blogger.comBlogger163125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5071542331530983118.post-87498035841748285022015-07-31T01:10:00.000-04:002015-08-01T20:18:29.453-04:00The Joy of Romance (With a Dash of Nostalgia!) <br />
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-->First of all, let me just say THANK YOU to Lorelei of <a href="http://www.facebook.com/loreleislitlair" target="_blank">Lorelei's Lit Lair</a> for recommending me during <a href="http://www.readaromancemonth.com/" target="_blank">Read a Romance Month</a>. I'm so honored! To read Lorelei's orgininal post, click <a href="http://www.readaromancemonth.com/2015/08/loreleis-lit-lair-a-joyous-journey-to-romance/" target="_blank">HERE</a>. Also, I have a new website! Please feel free to stop by <a href="http://www.erinknightley.com/">www.ErinKnightley.com</a> for more about books, packing, bucket lists, and more :)<br />
<br />
<b>Essay: </b><br />
Isn’t it funny how a smell, a taste, or a sound can define an era, a year,
or even a moment in time? There is an elusive scent out there, one that I catch
only once in a blue moon, but the moment I do, I am instantly transported to
the magnificent library in the city where I went to college, Columbia, South
Carolina. It’s the smell of thousands upon thousands of books, warmed by the
heat of the southern sun through the glorious expanse of glass walls that so
minimally defined the space. It’s flavored with a hint of the exotic—towering
tropical trees grew freely in the bright space—and the subtle undertones of
earthy stone and airy sky. <br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrr3_MADmI485RYoh7gga4Ih5Y-bASm6yMoACvNLJUOXolPjCG58heszsKEW8FjTe8UIGrqd4eIgh5IOtryl3pfjTEmgCTh7Q74EWMkHWLxe8H3eMcbzzmJpEPHXtJbMFRoebFfQoIQjA/s1600/RCPL.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrr3_MADmI485RYoh7gga4Ih5Y-bASm6yMoACvNLJUOXolPjCG58heszsKEW8FjTe8UIGrqd4eIgh5IOtryl3pfjTEmgCTh7Q74EWMkHWLxe8H3eMcbzzmJpEPHXtJbMFRoebFfQoIQjA/s320/RCPL.jpg" width="320" /></a><br />
It was a library that lived like an art gallery . . . but then again, wasn’t
that what it was? A pulpit for the art of imagination, a showcase for the
mastery of story-telling that had been honed through the centuries of
civilization? All that knowledge, all that adventure, all that delicious
romance—a million books that seemed to encompass the entire universe and tackle
every aspect of man in every possible time somehow fit neatly on a single city
block. Each page, each book, each carefully designed cover was truly the
culmination of so many authors hopes and dreams made tangible for us, the eager
reader to devour. <br />
And eager I was. Every Friday, I would slide into my ancient silver Volvo,
turn the key and hope the beast would roar to life, ready to carry me to my
favorite of all destinations. I had only spare change to my name back then, and
I would happily cough up my precious nickels and dimes for the parking meter,
buying me minutes and hours to soak up the row upon row of romance novels,
surely the largest selection in the world.<br />
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This is where my love of historical romance began. No longer stuck with the
underwhelming selection of my tiny hometown library, I discovered westerns
first. The vivid works of authors like Lorraine Heath, Elizabeth Lowell, and
Linda Lael Miller drew me deep into a whole new world, a different era where
life was slower, and richer, and the untamed frontier stretched before us like
an unpainted canvas. This is when I first discovered that simple words on a
page could roar to life so fully, that nothing so trivial as sleep could keep
me from finishing the book.<br />
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And then, one day, I picked up my first Regency historical novel. Oh, how my
world changed that day. The dashing heroes, the plucky heroines, the dresses
and manor houses and deliciously witty banter—all of it came together in a
perfect storm of awesomeness that captured my heart like nothing else. I
devoured Julia Quinn, Susanne Enoch, Lisa Kleypas, and so many more, happily
losing myself in the crowded balls of London and sprawling green hills of the
countryside. My days were filled with calculus classes, and physics exams, and
oh-so-tedious organic chemistry homework, but my nights—oh, my nights, my
friends, were for stolen glances, first kisses, and that perfect sigh of true
love. If there is a greater joy out there, I haven’t yet found it.<br />
<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnVLR_YSYKJtytn97l7MuNo_qCBKqvM-fN6SX58wFU3NVdXRplMwKV0lRS571FsJwFTbYk6SIlLCPkcLelek6PFswc-fPuN3P8AlVRYfF3qDJDdVDMa_Fmc8BF6lB2muUiObGM7iqEF0Q/s1600/Erin+library.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnVLR_YSYKJtytn97l7MuNo_qCBKqvM-fN6SX58wFU3NVdXRplMwKV0lRS571FsJwFTbYk6SIlLCPkcLelek6PFswc-fPuN3P8AlVRYfF3qDJDdVDMa_Fmc8BF6lB2muUiObGM7iqEF0Q/s320/Erin+library.jpg" width="240" /></a>It’s been over a decade since those days, and in those rare moments when I’m
once again reminded of that scent, I can’t help but smile at the memory of the
perfection of the hours lost in the world of possibilities. A building of
stone, glass, and steel, holding all the secrets of the universe, giving life to
the magic of imagination, and planting the seed of dreams yet to come.<br />
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Though I haven’t yet, it is so very tempting to take the 5-hour road trip
back to the Richland County library, traveling 300 miles by distance and over a
decade back in time to walk those hallowed aisles once more and see my own
books on the shelves. I want to smell that perfect scent, and know that I am
now a part of it in a way I would have never dreamed of all those years ago.
I’d like to think that my books could be bringing that same joy to a college
student that I experienced back then.<br />
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I think of that girl, who scrounged beneath the tattered blue seats of her
car for an extra nickel so that she could have another ten minutes to wander
those familiar aisles, sliding her fingers along the covers as she looked for
her next adventure. What would she think if she knew her own book would someday
be nestled among those authors she most loved and admired?<br />
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Once upon a time, my world was expanded a
thousand times over thanks to the discovery of a library that valued romance
novels. It makes me so happy—and a little teary—to think I can now give back in
my own small, yet tremendously tangible way. Where once tiny seeds were
planted, now the fruits of my dreams live. And that, dear friends, is the best
happily ever after of all.</div>
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<b>Five Question Time! </b></div>
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1
- Tell us about a moment in your life when you experienced sheer joy. </div>
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When I was accepted into the college of my choice. I always wanted to fly the nest in grand fashion, and going to a school 8 hours away in an entirely new state was the most exciting prospect I could possibly imagine at that time :)</div>
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2 - Tell us about a place that brings you joy, or is attached to a memory of joy.</div>
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I rather think I just did ;) The Richland County Library was a true happy place! Other than that, Rough River in KY where Mr. Knightley and I fell in love the summer before our senior year of high school. </div>
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3 - Tell us about a sound that brings you joy (or a memory attached to sound — music, laughter, wind chimes… ?)</div>
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The garage door opener. It means Mr. Knightley is home! </div>
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- What recent book have you read that brought you joy. (Or a book you
read in your life that brought you so much joy you’ve never forgotten
it.) Why?</div>
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I must have read How To Marry a Marquis by Julia Quinn ten times over the years. As a person who rarely ever rereads, that's saying a lot! It just made my heart flutter every time :) </div>
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5 - And for fun, the joy of choice ;o) ~</div>
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Summer. Almost all my favorite memories take place during the long, hot days of summer :)</div>
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Pick
your Chris! Chris Hemsworth, Chris Pine, Chris Pratt, Chris Rock, Chris
Evans or Christopher Plummer (circ. 1964 aka Capt. Von Trapp?) - trying
for a little diversity! ;o)</div>
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Chris Pratt, because of his humor, his handsomeness, and his dedication to his wife and family.</div>
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<b>Recommendations</b>:</div>
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Historical romance author <a href="http://www.kellybowen.net/" target="_blank">Kelly Bowen</a> and contemporary romance author <a href="http://sonalidev.com/" target="_blank">Sonali Dev</a>. Both are fairly new authors who are sure to delight :) </div>
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<b>Bio: </b></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4rH7jR4xcj8ZzPO2yuDUxmqAAjqh_VVva1oLh_EjilxDeh3i-ZBmGBQ76IEcrlNMQMCGmuPMF5DuVWMF4ykh-i01ntGNlj2jWM0eiYDXn0Ds7hsboWppNpjnpUCCChG9yLhE0xiB7l6o/s1600/The+Duke+Can+Go+To+the+Devil+Cover.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4rH7jR4xcj8ZzPO2yuDUxmqAAjqh_VVva1oLh_EjilxDeh3i-ZBmGBQ76IEcrlNMQMCGmuPMF5DuVWMF4ykh-i01ntGNlj2jWM0eiYDXn0Ds7hsboWppNpjnpUCCChG9yLhE0xiB7l6o/s320/The+Duke+Can+Go+To+the+Devil+Cover.jpg" width="197" /></a><span style="font-size: 16px;"><span style="line-height: 1.3em;"><span style="font-family: caudex,serif;"><span class="color_20">Despite
being an avid reader and closet writer her whole life, Erin Knightley
decided to pursue a sensible career in science. It was only after
earning her B.S. and working in the field for years that she realized
doing the sensible thing wasn't any fun at all. Following her dreams,
Erin left her practical side behind and now spends her days writing. An
award winning and USA Today Bestselling author, she is living her own
Happily Ever After in North Carolina with her tall, dark, and handsome
husband and their three spoiled mutts.</span></span></span></span> </div>
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Newest release: <a href="http://www.erinknightley.com/#!tdcgttd/c1tzx">The Duke Can Go To the Devil</a>! </div>
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An Amazon and Goodreads best book of the month! </div>
Erin Knightleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09368123673970225476noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5071542331530983118.post-28260398057054496582015-01-01T23:11:00.001-05:002015-06-06T01:07:10.560-04:00Giveaways Galore!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<b>The Earl I Adore</b> is about to hit shelves! To celebrate, I'm participating in two awesome giveaways :-) Best part? If you've pre-ordered my book and you win it in one of these giveaways, I'll give you the choice to take an Amazon GC for the purchase price, instead. It's a win/win! </div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">Now available for pre-order:<br /><a href="http://www.amazon.com/Earl-Adore-Prelude-Kiss-Novel/dp/0451466799/ref=sr_1_1?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1410797799&sr=1-1&keywords=the+earl+I+adore" target="_blank">Amazon</a> | <a href="http://www.amazon.co.uk/Earl-Adore-Prelude-Kiss-Book-ebook/dp/B00LFPBCOM/ref=sr_1_1/275-1117645-9997012?ie=UTF8&qid=1410797974&sr=8-1&keywords=The+earl+I+adore" target="_blank">AmazonUK</a> | <a href="https://itunes.apple.com/us/book/the-earl-i-adore/id888060992?mt=11" target="_blank">iTunes</a> | <a href="http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/the-earl-i-adore-erin-knightley/1119671321?ean=9780698137943" target="_blank">Barnes&Noble</a> | <a href="http://store.kobobooks.com/it-us/books/The-Earl-I-Adore/1yCqxE8hkEu4W_aR6BdQ_w?MixID=1yCqxE8hkEu4W_aR6BdQ_w&PageNumber=1" target="_blank">Kobo</a> </span></div>
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<b><u>January 1-4</u></b></h3>
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The Secret Curtsey Society is ringing in the New Year with a five book giveaway! To enter to win one, like and comment on the following posts: </div>
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<a href="https://www.facebook.com/annebartonauthor/photos/a.295364560505022.66353.233954299979382/826105570764249/?type=1&theater" target="_blank">Anne Barton</a></div>
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<a href="https://www.facebook.com/ValerieBowmanAuthor/photos/a.212842935477752.44752.110636949031685/712943808800993/?type=1&theater" target="_blank">Valerie Bowman</a></div>
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<a href="https://www.facebook.com/erinknightley/photos/a.242740552453725.57913.194328877294893/802717409789367/?type=1&theater" target="_blank">Erin Knightley</a></div>
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<a href="https://www.facebook.com/AuthorAshlynMacnamara/photos/a.397112583669113.85295.178818875498486/757033584343676/?type=1&theater" target="_blank">Ashlyn Macnamara</a></div>
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<a href="https://www.facebook.com/sara.ramsey/photos/a.357632434281954.85927.357275727650958/866719210039938/?type=1&theater" target="_blank">Sara Ramsey</a></div>
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<u><b>January 2-5</b></u></h3>
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Theresa Romain, Shana Galen, and I have teamed up to celebrate our shared Jan 6th release date. With 3 amazing prize packs and one away grand prize, you won't want to miss out! Entering is easy - just check out the raflecopter form below:</div>
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<a class="rcptr" data-raflid="54ca7af742" data-template="" data-theme="classic" href="http://www.rafflecopter.com/rafl/display/54ca7af742/" id="rcwidget_13qic15x" rel="nofollow">a Rafflecopter giveaway</a><br />
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Erin Knightleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09368123673970225476noreply@blogger.com18tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5071542331530983118.post-2707682937212778522014-08-31T18:39:00.001-04:002014-09-01T02:01:22.718-04:00Something Wicked this Way Comes...<div id="titlesidebox">
<h1 class="wheretobuy">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdo2rcIEeSSCFYhyphenhyphenPRN39OjUbcy-8yBmNyX4uVWIpsYr9M6NJPX08-SVS6satIZycHqgmg5WcU6eO-9rylKcPyWb1e5uZ4igrJrTZUB8YWL0Xnzh0w8wf_6epiKt1LNzgGYlDC5eBYwKg/s1600/sevenwickednights.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdo2rcIEeSSCFYhyphenhyphenPRN39OjUbcy-8yBmNyX4uVWIpsYr9M6NJPX08-SVS6satIZycHqgmg5WcU6eO-9rylKcPyWb1e5uZ4igrJrTZUB8YWL0Xnzh0w8wf_6epiKt1LNzgGYlDC5eBYwKg/s1600/sevenwickednights.jpg" height="320" width="213" /></a><span style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-size: large;"> </span></span></h1>
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<span style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-size: large;">Big News! I'm so excited to announce that my novella, Ruined by a </span></span><span style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-size: large;">Rake, will be part of a fantastic box set featuring seven novellas for only <b>99 cents</b>. I promise, you don't want to miss out on this limited edition set! <br /><br />
</span></span></h1>
<div id="buyfrom">
<div id="buyfrom" style="text-align: center;">
<h3>
<b>Available September 16th, but pre-order now at:</b> </h3>
</div>
<div id="buyfrom" style="text-align: center;">
<a href="http://www.amazon.com/Seven-Wicked-Nights-historical-novellas-ebook/dp/B00MQIK28E/?tag=cmwebsite-20">amazon</a> |
<a href="http://www.amazon.co.uk/Seven-Wicked-Nights-historical-novellas-ebook/dp/B00MQIK28E/?tag=cmwebsite-21">amazon uk</a> | <a href="https://itunes.apple.com/us/book/seven-wicked-nights/id908670747?mt=11&at=11l5VI">iBooks</a> |
<a href="http://store.kobobooks.com/en-US/ebook/seven-wicked-nights">kobo</a> |
<a href="https://play.google.com/store/books/details/Courtney_Milan_Seven_Wicked_Nights?id=rSxiBAAAQBAJ">google</a>
</div>
</div>
</div>
<span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: small;">
<a href="https://www.blogger.com/null" name="blurb"></a>
</span><span style="font-size: small;">Seven bestselling historical romance authors offer seven sexy
stories featuring dukes, lords, rakes, scoundrels…and the unforgettable
heroines who bring them to their knees. These stories range in length
from long novellas to delectable little bites.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;">
</span><span style="font-size: small;">This limited edition boxed set contains over 170,000 words, and the individual stories have over 200 5-star reviews in total.</span><br />
<b>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_TTMiznT7nhHtQbpKIg1kcF7YRS9Ec-it1-pVl9FbbcaP_6TJj5FXBJkK6MWhEGDhizeKTFyFII8kbTJD9Q2IXtUggtK2q6KWK70hXP4JndcnGdNIHZx649-th_exuk19QAw1HKhs-ls/s1600/seven+wicked+nights+promo5.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_TTMiznT7nhHtQbpKIg1kcF7YRS9Ec-it1-pVl9FbbcaP_6TJj5FXBJkK6MWhEGDhizeKTFyFII8kbTJD9Q2IXtUggtK2q6KWK70hXP4JndcnGdNIHZx649-th_exuk19QAw1HKhs-ls/s1600/seven+wicked+nights+promo5.jpg" height="520" width="640" /></a></div>
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<ul>
<li><i><a href="http://www.courtneymilan.com/unlocked.php">Unlocked</a></i>, by <i>New York Times</i> bestselling author <a href="http://www.courtneymilan.com/">Courtney Milan</a><br />
Elaine Warren has resigned herself to life as a spinster and a
wallflower, but when Evan Carlton, the Earl of Westfeld, returns after a
long absence,
she’s afraid that he plans to torment her as he did before. This time,
though, she vows to show him that wallflowers can fight back…<br /> </li>
<li><i><a href="http://www.carolinelinden.com/whenimetmyduchess.html">When I Met my Duchess</a></i>, by <i>USA Today</i> bestselling author <a href="http://www.carolinelinden.com/">Caroline Linden</a><br />
Everyone expects the Duke of Wessex’s wedding to be the society event of
the Season. But when the duke meets his future bride’s sister, he
realizes he’s about to marry the wrong woman…and his wedding is about to
become the scandal of the year.<br /> </li>
<li><i><a href="http://tessadare.com/bookshelf/how-to-catch-a-wild-viscount/">How to Catch a Wild Viscount</a></i>, by <i>New York Times</i> bestselling author <a href="http://www.tessadare.com/">Tessa Dare</a> (originally published as <i>Legend of the Werestag</i>)
<br />Luke Trenton, Viscount Merritt, returned from battle a changed
man, but Cecily Hale won’t be pushed away. She has only a few moonlit
nights to reach the real Luke…the wounded heart she knows still beats
inside the war-ravaged body…or she could lose him to the darkness
forever.<br /> </li>
<li><i><a href="http://www.carolynjewel.com/books/book_detail_onestarlitnight.php">One Starlit Night</a></i>, by award-winning author <a href="http://www.carolynjewel.com/">Carolyn Jewel</a><br />
Ten years away from Doyle’s Grange isn’t long enough for Viscount
Northword to forget Portia Temple or their passionate adolescent affair.
Portia, however, is about to marry another man…and Northword cannot
help but interfere, with his words, his body, and the truths of his
heart.<br /> </li>
<li><i><a href="http://www.sherrythomas.com/claiming-the-duchess.php">Claiming the Duchess</a></i>, by two-time RITA® winner <a href="http://www.sherrythomas.com/">Sherry Thomas</a><br />
Clarissa, the widowed Duchess of Lexington, has two great loves: the
reticent and reclusive Mr. James Kingston and her faithful correspondent
Miss Julia Kirkland, whom Clarissa has never met. Now both Mr. Kingston
and Miss Kirkland are due to arrive at Clarissa’s house—and Clarissa is
about to find out that neither is as she has been led to believe…<br /> </li>
<li><i><a href="http://www.leighlavalle.com/The_Misbehaving_Marquess.html">The Misbehaving Marquess</a></i>, by award-winning author <a href="http://www.leighlavalle.com/">Leigh LaValle</a><br />
Having awaited the return of her husband for half a decade, Catherine
Raybourne, the Marchioness of Foster, has no intention of reconciling
with her misbehaving marquess. But when he insists he needs an
heir—immediately—she must confront her own lingering desires. Can she
protect her heart while attempting to win his once again?<br /> </li>
<li><i><a href="http://haveyourcakeandreadittoo.blogspot.com/p/books.html">Ruined by a Rake</a></i>, by award-winning author <a href="http://www.erinknightley.com/">Erin Knightley</a><br />
Eleanor Abbington has always had a contentious and competitive
relationship with Nicolas Norton. But when her uncle orders her to marry
the man of his choosing, her old adversary becomes her only ally, and
she may very well find herself…ruined by a rake.</li>
</ul>
Erin Knightleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09368123673970225476noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5071542331530983118.post-38921593885403005392014-07-24T15:40:00.001-04:002014-08-11T11:07:30.599-04:00It's Read-a-Romance Month! <div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
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--><span style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: Times; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-US;">First of all, let me say thank you to Bobbi Dumas, Lorraine Heath, and Katharine Ashe for including me in this wonderful event. It's a pleasure to join in the fun! </span></span><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: Times; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-US;"> </span></b><br />
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<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: Times; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-US;">My name is Erin Knightley, and I
peddle happily ever afters :)</span></b></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-US;">I’ll never forget the time back in seventh grade,
when five fellow students and I were clustered around one of the round tables
in the lunchroom shortly after we had turned in our book reports on The
Outsiders. With elbows resting on the dingy white melamine tabletop, we
discussed the book, which was the most grown-up novel we’d ever been compelled
to read. Several liked the book, thinking it gritty and heart wrenching. Others
couldn’t have cared less—they didn’t like reading or books, and never would. I
was the only one at the table who vehemently disliked the book. Why?</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-US;">Because I wanted a happy ending.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-US;">I argued with the other kids at length: Yes it was
compelling, yes it was an interesting story, but if I walked away feeling worse
than when I started it, why would I want to read it?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Even at that age, I knew what was important
to me. There was enough bad stuff in the world. Why would I want to read about <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">more</i> bad stuff? I read to escape and experience
different times and places, but most of all, I read for enjoyment. I read to
feel better about life, and love, and all the possibilities for finding joy and
excitement. A book could lead me on a merry chase, making me cry even, but at
the end, I wanted a big, goofy smile that would stay in place for days. Was
that too much to ask?</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-US;">So, is it any wonder I turned to romance? Is it any
wonder that I was willing to lose myself in an emotional book that might bring
me to the highest highs and the lowest low, but that I could absolutely count
on to leave me hopeful and happy? To me, there is no greater thing on earth
than love. I choose to read books that celebrate that, that show the struggles
and triumphs, the compromises, the passion, and all those emotions humans have
experienced throughout history. I’m happy to lift up the most positive thing of
all in a world full of negatives.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-US;">From time to time, I do branch out and read
literature and mainstream fiction, and yes, I do enjoy them. But I always find
my way back home to romance. And it is my promise to you, dear readers, that
when you read my books, you can always rely on that wonderful, elusive thing: a
happily ever after :)</span></div>
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<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: Times; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-US;"> Now - onto the 3 Questions past of the blog!</span></b></div>
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<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: Times; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-US;">1 - Describe the most daring,
adventurous or inspiring thing you ever did. </span></b></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxVsDgTnDRuCkIe1BqAybKFLHg_4Nd429Eb7xpmSXG61CeozR0-sL1eT9NRtiDLRA_TSpZjqvaVjzNqrOyy3Sj9ez7l4OnB_kf8fly7PraJ2zbSowckPxtqhfpxBtDxRBVTk1kDHGKBqk/s1600/russian+erin.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxVsDgTnDRuCkIe1BqAybKFLHg_4Nd429Eb7xpmSXG61CeozR0-sL1eT9NRtiDLRA_TSpZjqvaVjzNqrOyy3Sj9ez7l4OnB_kf8fly7PraJ2zbSowckPxtqhfpxBtDxRBVTk1kDHGKBqk/s1600/russian+erin.jpg" height="149" width="200" /></a><span style="font-family: Times; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-US;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>When I was 19, I went
to live in Russia for the summer, working on an international drilling project
in Siberia. I was with 2 other American students, but other than that, we were
completely on our own. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Talk about a
culture shock! It was a life changing experience for me to see how another
culture literally halfway across the world lived, loved, worked, and played. Remarkably,
I came away with the realization that no matter how different we may look or
sound, deep down we are all the same<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>:-)</span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: Times; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-US;">2 - Tell us about your journey to
becoming a writer. (How did you decide to get started? Did you always know or
was there a specific moment when you knew?)</span></b></div>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdIfLyguQo4bswnYGmZ4BYWZ6rr0xcAb2z-hKvY8ixJE6nvX0wgToVVZ7VYMy-egmt7l4ynLM3uTRwG2hlMTGAjN4BcVw9UKTgBEDUdL1DBi8mfCoVV1zeYx3AO_kNB9HhFKH2nmH8XMM/s1600/jump+for+joy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdIfLyguQo4bswnYGmZ4BYWZ6rr0xcAb2z-hKvY8ixJE6nvX0wgToVVZ7VYMy-egmt7l4ynLM3uTRwG2hlMTGAjN4BcVw9UKTgBEDUdL1DBi8mfCoVV1zeYx3AO_kNB9HhFKH2nmH8XMM/s1600/jump+for+joy.jpg" height="200" width="150" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Me when I got The Call :)</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<span style="font-family: Times; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-US;">I’ve always loved to write—won the Young Authors
competition in 4<sup>th</sup> grade, in fact!—but it was something I had set
aside when I graduated college and entered Real Life. For the next six years, I
worked diligently during the day and read voraciously every night. At one
point, my work started to get overwhelmingly stressful, and I decided to escape
with writing again. I was rusty at first, but before long, I found myself with
a completed novel! Believe it or not, I actually sold that book. MORE THAN A
STRANGER came out in June 2012, and it’s been a wild, wonderful ride ever
since.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-US;">I am currently writing my sixth book (tenth book if you include
novellas!), which is the third in my Prelude to a Kiss series set at a music
festival in Bath.</span></div>
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<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: Times; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-US;">3 - Tell us about The (or A) Book
That Changed Your Life. (Why?)</span></b></div>
This may sound corny, but it was
actually the Serendipity children’s book series that was <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"></span>mailed to my house
once a month when I was around four or five. I was the youngest of three kids,
and one-on-one time with my parents was highly coveted. Every month when the
newest book arrived, my mom would cuddle up with me in my parents’ big bed and
read the newest adventure. The pictures were vivid, the stories compelling, and
my mom’s attempts at voices predictably laughable. It was a precious escape for
me, and led me to cherish those books and the special time they afforded with
my mother.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOEX3rAdYRjEpwbwiorjUVNGYVlB546eT7udp4uzjdaYMy-Hp0-REK0jh5IGZRXIXnj_jOsLhSIc-P3wDDltdEORSuvMDQ2qKwHGS9RNLyWiKXmmevTs_OSy8lXM39wR4IdsdFELAFPcI/s1600/All's+Fair+Ruined+by+a+Rake+alternate+cover+1400.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOEX3rAdYRjEpwbwiorjUVNGYVlB546eT7udp4uzjdaYMy-Hp0-REK0jh5IGZRXIXnj_jOsLhSIc-P3wDDltdEORSuvMDQ2qKwHGS9RNLyWiKXmmevTs_OSy8lXM39wR4IdsdFELAFPcI/s1600/All's+Fair+Ruined+by+a+Rake+alternate+cover+1400.jpg" height="200" width="125" /></a></div>
Thanks so much for joining me
today! If you’d like to try one of my books for free, you’re in luck! For a
limited time, I’m offering RUINED BY A RAKE, the first in the All’s Fair in
Love novella series, free! To download, simply follow the link for you format
of choice: </div>
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<span style="mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><a href="http://www.amazon.com/Ruined-Rake-Novella-ebook/dp/B00C4CSUDG/ref=sr_1_1?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1365658171&sr=1-1&keywords=ruined+by+a+rake">Amazon</a> |
<a href="http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/ruined-by-a-rake-a-novella-erin-knightley/1114970361?ean=2940016775593">Barnes
and Noble</a> | <a href="https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/301562">Smashwords</a>
| <a href="https://itunes.apple.com/us/book/ruined-by-a-rake-a-novella/id630966635?mt=11">iTunes</a></span></div>
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<span style="mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Recommendation: Looking for someone new to love?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I’d love to recommend <a href="http://heathersnowbooks.com/">Heather Snow</a>, who has Regency
smarty-pants heroines down to an art, and <a href="http://www.catherinegayle.com/">Catherine Gayle</a>, who writes hockey
romance that require a minimum of a handful of tissues to read </span><span style="font-family: Wingdings; mso-ascii-font-family: Cambria; mso-char-type: symbol; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-hansi-font-family: Cambria; mso-symbol-font-family: Wingdings;"><span style="mso-char-type: symbol; mso-symbol-font-family: Wingdings;">J</span></span><span style="mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">
I hope you’ll enjoy these ladies’ books as much as I do!</span></div>
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<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><u><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";">Bio:</span></u></b><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"> </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;">Despite
being an avid reader and closet writer her whole life, Erin Knightley decided
to pursue a sensible career in science. It was only after earning her
B.S. and working in the field for years that she realized doing the sensible
thing wasn't any fun at all. Following her dreams, Erin left her
practical side behind and now spends her days writing. Together with her tall,
dark, and handsome husband and their three spoiled mutts, she is living her own
Happily Ever After in North Carolina.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;"><a href="http://www.erinknightley.com/">Webpage</a><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>|<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><a href="http://www.facebook.com/erinknightley">Facebook</a><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>|<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><a href="http://www.twitter.com/erinknightley">Twitter</a></span></div>
Erin Knightleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09368123673970225476noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5071542331530983118.post-44682454635699608892014-06-04T12:30:00.000-04:002014-06-04T12:30:05.528-04:00Long Time, No Blog!Soooooo...I've been a bit remiss in blogging lately. Okay - I've been a LOT remiss. But I have good reason! Lots of things have been happening in my world :) So, here's the catchup since the last one:<br />
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Not one, but TWO new releases!<br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhyE3cgETTYcWb1ZOmA3p0Z1c93tEHAoqLdW4r-UBhEIJ64TqdArRbP9MPnHw2dX7g0Bh3l3FOwybT-APpTwOi4A0jSotSXJVs9gDA6kNSWoHkyQIHyC91NHlhQac6-PvTIrYMCehCSql4/s1600/The+Baron+Next+Door+Cover-Gold.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhyE3cgETTYcWb1ZOmA3p0Z1c93tEHAoqLdW4r-UBhEIJ64TqdArRbP9MPnHw2dX7g0Bh3l3FOwybT-APpTwOi4A0jSotSXJVs9gDA6kNSWoHkyQIHyC91NHlhQac6-PvTIrYMCehCSql4/s1600/The+Baron+Next+Door+Cover-Gold.jpg" height="320" width="198" /></a><b><u>The Baron Next Door</u></b></span></div>
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This book is the first in the new Prelude to a Kiss series, set at a summer music festival in Bath. Not only does it feature the unlikely love story of talented pianoforte-player Charity and her curmudgeony next door neighbor, the handsome but scarred Hugh Danby, Baron Cadgwith, but you'll also meet Charity's fellow trio musicians, her wise and wonderful grandmother, Hugh's irrepressible brother-in-law, and a whole cast of characters who are all gathered for the festival (and for the other two books!). <br />
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This book is my favorite yet, and I hope you love it as much as I do. For a look at the first chapter, click <a href="http://haveyourcakeandreadittoo.blogspot.com/p/blog-page.html" target="_blank">HERE</a>.<br />
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Available Now
<a href="http://www.amazon.com/The-Baron-Next-Door-Prelude-ebook/dp/B00GSBT3XA/ref=pd_sim_kstore_5" target="_blank">Amazon</a> | <a href="http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/the-baron-next-door-erin-knightley/1117502505?ean=9780451466785" target="_blank">Barnes & Noble</a> | <a href="http://www.indiebound.org/book/9780451466785" target="_blank">IndieBound</a><br />
<a href="http://www.booksamillion.com/p/Baron-Next-Door/Erin-Knightley/9780451466785?id=5960293247832" target="_blank">Books-A-Million </a>| <a href="https://itunes.apple.com/us/book/the-baron-next-door/id761395892?mt=11" target="_blank">iTunes</a><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEheruMVDDPpbacO4mCDVlD4fDYU45rnyVJqOcD26Y8rZ-UmS3JkaU7XpcleDg7XgRQzOuYbBTIejETC7ZdYV13Z6vGVgbOGZmC4_tK8HVFRC_NRG9gXGpX3N-QECLKOIg4y8XC9eynt3Cs/s1600/Spanish+courtyard+cover+Seville.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEheruMVDDPpbacO4mCDVlD4fDYU45rnyVJqOcD26Y8rZ-UmS3JkaU7XpcleDg7XgRQzOuYbBTIejETC7ZdYV13Z6vGVgbOGZmC4_tK8HVFRC_NRG9gXGpX3N-QECLKOIg4y8XC9eynt3Cs/s1600/Spanish+courtyard+cover+Seville.jpg" height="320" width="199" /></a><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><b><u> Deceived by a Duke: </u><i><span style="font-weight: normal;"> </span></i></b></span></div>
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<i><span style="font-weight: normal;">An All's Fair in Love Novella</span></i></div>
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Set in the gorgeous Spanish city of Seville, the 3rd All's Fair in Love novella features a duke in disguise and the milt-lingual English miss who comes to his rescue.<br />
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This is the perfect read for a day at the beach or pool, or even just curled up on the deck with a drink in hand :) <br />
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<br />
<i>Available Now - only $0.99!</i><br />
<a href="http://www.amazon.com/Deceived-Duke-Alls-Fair-Novella-ebook/dp/B00K39M16E/ref=zg_bs_746228_3" target="_blank">Amazon</a> | <a href="http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/deceived-by-a-duke-an-alls-fair-in-love-novella-erin-knightley/1119414958?ean=2940149435517" target="_blank">Barnes and Noble</a> | <a href="https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/434565" target="_blank">Smashwords</a> | <a href="https://itunes.apple.com/us/book/deceived-by-duke-alls-fair/id877702102?mt=11" target="_blank">iTunes</a> <br />
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What else is new? Well, I signed a contract for 2 more books with Penguin (that will be Book 6, THE DUKE CAN GO TO THE DEVIL, and an untitled Book 7). I also revealed the cover for THE EARL I ADORE, the second book in the Prelude to a Kiss series that will come out in Jan 2015<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6rrF8fEFfoo-sAPZdbuE8vkyrln_u6i1LZ1VhEL2KHXVjg1HUHn_Gfg6XIU8tLTZUiaeWWCSV6nMv9hVYbYnl4egAzvdspN05QixwuM_r1-7QrUb5B1vVxpizj8-P85jLEpc22GYaCGw/s1600/Earl+I+Adore+Cover.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6rrF8fEFfoo-sAPZdbuE8vkyrln_u6i1LZ1VhEL2KHXVjg1HUHn_Gfg6XIU8tLTZUiaeWWCSV6nMv9hVYbYnl4egAzvdspN05QixwuM_r1-7QrUb5B1vVxpizj8-P85jLEpc22GYaCGw/s1600/Earl+I+Adore+Cover.jpg" height="400" width="247" /> </a></div>
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And then there are my international covers! These two are for the UK versions from Piatkus books: </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisBmK4r2XTzbZFGN9_YCVTL5gY_kzukoh9axnhO1l-IJ9sFKtOAHqCx9FWhfV8I_a6J3YbiKb9CJdtFJy_5zCGs-p5HprqI5BkUHmlYCwp1jMsOtKTvR6TXaUr9mLPdKshfV-YKVJnRZY/s1600/BaronNextDoor_EBOOK.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisBmK4r2XTzbZFGN9_YCVTL5gY_kzukoh9axnhO1l-IJ9sFKtOAHqCx9FWhfV8I_a6J3YbiKb9CJdtFJy_5zCGs-p5HprqI5BkUHmlYCwp1jMsOtKTvR6TXaUr9mLPdKshfV-YKVJnRZY/s1600/BaronNextDoor_EBOOK.jpg" height="320" width="203" /></a></div>
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisBmK4r2XTzbZFGN9_YCVTL5gY_kzukoh9axnhO1l-IJ9sFKtOAHqCx9FWhfV8I_a6J3YbiKb9CJdtFJy_5zCGs-p5HprqI5BkUHmlYCwp1jMsOtKTvR6TXaUr9mLPdKshfV-YKVJnRZY/s1600/BaronNextDoor_EBOOK.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidI4qj5WVAbttjpqVcKfrrH6kVjRnKf33Q7XGeZXrU-p3WivSB1BUrxv5q4OvkF5juhETA1Tt8IyCOw4ocOImQs645hcqRW75xK7rlyF5VvAGviU32esRDYAxO01ux7PQ6T9g_nxJDY0k/s1600/EarlIAdore_EBOOK.jpg" imageanchor="1"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidI4qj5WVAbttjpqVcKfrrH6kVjRnKf33Q7XGeZXrU-p3WivSB1BUrxv5q4OvkF5juhETA1Tt8IyCOw4ocOImQs645hcqRW75xK7rlyF5VvAGviU32esRDYAxO01ux7PQ6T9g_nxJDY0k/s1600/EarlIAdore_EBOOK.jpg" height="320" style="cursor: move;" width="203" /></a><br />
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And here is the cover for MORE THAN A STRANGER from Japan!<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjN6oqMsR7w8Q4V9jzUmUHE0vl5WCOeYScNIorkzqPjfOXPLbswss2EmsHl_n27Ws6aKQeaTeCplNhlMSQQ775_T0e6swpZbBxxJIzeROyc59u8PdMr16a8o2bLvhaL8HEqnMHcH1FP1Pg/s1600/Japanese+cover+MTAS.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjN6oqMsR7w8Q4V9jzUmUHE0vl5WCOeYScNIorkzqPjfOXPLbswss2EmsHl_n27Ws6aKQeaTeCplNhlMSQQ775_T0e6swpZbBxxJIzeROyc59u8PdMr16a8o2bLvhaL8HEqnMHcH1FP1Pg/s1600/Japanese+cover+MTAS.jpg" height="320" width="218" /> </a></div>
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OOOOOOkaaay. I think that's everything for now! Thanks so much for stopping by, and stay tuned for more fun news in the future (in a more timely manner - I promise!) </div>
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Thanksgiving was always hosted at my Uncle Mickey and Aunt Bev’s house, a tidy little tri-level in a tidy little neighborhood about half an hour’s drive from my grandparents’ house. Sometimes the yard would be clogged with snow, sometimes with the last of the autumn leaves. The air was invariably crisp and cool outside while the hot ovens and busy guests heated the inside to just this side of toasty.<br />
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<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvKoFIIhWp9qgY8AsEgTRYqOU_YvN6mBYpNky30xinKG7ep364wxMiN6a-CgbcvczSLbIGZpRMYj4qk8vHmwQ63RhR1nmRnANAdl8Xzp56RlzHoakrCHXCHBD4HC1E6ZF8X8bzO9qKQOs/s1600/erin+and+turkey.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvKoFIIhWp9qgY8AsEgTRYqOU_YvN6mBYpNky30xinKG7ep364wxMiN6a-CgbcvczSLbIGZpRMYj4qk8vHmwQ63RhR1nmRnANAdl8Xzp56RlzHoakrCHXCHBD4HC1E6ZF8X8bzO9qKQOs/s320/erin+and+turkey.jpg" width="243" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The first Thanksgiving turkey I ever made</td></tr>
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The buzz of conversation filled nearly every room of that house, but it was the basement that held the most laughter. There, we many cousins, the youngest generation of two families brought together but once a year on this day, would gather on the brown shag carpet, teasing and joking and playing board games. The old Clue game would come out, as would the decks of cards and cups of dice, and there we would play like the warriors we were, shrieking with laughter and accusing each other of cheating.<br />
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I remember the TV being tuned to football, coolers stocked with the soft drinks my mom never let us have at home, and the smell of pumpkin pie promising deliciousness, even though I never actually liked it. I loved the jello molds and cranberry dessert, the green bean casserole and the mounds upon mounds of mash potatoes topped with melted butter. There was the stuffing that I avoided, and the rolls that I binged on. There was real butter and homemade whipped cream, sweet potatoes topped with marshmallows and a turkey so big, it always managed to be more than enough for the crowd of relatives who squeezed into the long line of tables filling the living and dining rooms.<br />
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After grace, we’d all say something we were thankful for before, at long last, diving into the glorious feast. We fed our mouths, our hearts, our souls, and our spirit there at the Thanksgiving table. We caught up with each other’s lives and reminisced about old times. We looked forward to the future as we gave thanks for the present. By the end of the day, we would all be full to bursting, lounging on every available sofa and chair with sated smiles and droopy eyelids. The food would be put away, the daylight long faded to black, and before long we would pile into our frosty cars, once again heading away to our own lives, already looking forward to the next year when we could do it all over again.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTJptkcmusC6bxQYx3dzkt_UNL2oRhg7LJTtDWvk4rjZOnYofLndUafWFsxvj9ISomHa7zDPjb4Smx4kbdrI8Hb_SXXMeqTGhdEuJSNMwODO3jWxZpyHp_5sHwIK9d6s7AQgUxG_NMcxM/s1600/thanksgiving.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="212" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTJptkcmusC6bxQYx3dzkt_UNL2oRhg7LJTtDWvk4rjZOnYofLndUafWFsxvj9ISomHa7zDPjb4Smx4kbdrI8Hb_SXXMeqTGhdEuJSNMwODO3jWxZpyHp_5sHwIK9d6s7AQgUxG_NMcxM/s320/thanksgiving.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Last year's Thanksgiving with Catherine Gayle :-)</td></tr>
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It’s been many years since I’ve been to Chicago for Thanksgiving, but the memories will always burn bright this time of year. This holiday is sacred, reserved for nothing more than family, friends, food, and thanksgiving. In all my years, I’ve never bought a single Thanksgiving decoration, or done anything else to dilute the simple pleasure of the day. For as long as I live, I’ll never disrespect the day by bypassing it for Christmas. Others can wait in line for a well-priced TV or half-priced jeans, but this Thanksgiving I’ll be doing what I always have: enjoying a day at home with those I love, focusing on the things that really matter in life.<br />
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Happy Thanksgiving everyone – may your day be filled with all the best things on this, the beautifully uncommercial holiday :)
Erin Knightleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09368123673970225476noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5071542331530983118.post-50628807562267672392013-11-03T17:32:00.000-05:002013-11-03T22:16:58.084-05:00Because I love you - Epilogue for Ruined by a Rake!Okay, okay—so I heard from some of you that you wanted a little more for Eleanor and Nick's happily ever after in <b>Ruined by a Rake</b>. Initially, I didn't have one because I knew we'd be seeing more in the second book. Indeed, <b>Scandalized by a Scoundrel</b> (out by Nov 15th!) is actually set during Eleanor and Nick's wedding.<br />
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HOWEVER, I never want to leave my readers hanging, so here now is the newly added epilogue from Ruined by a Rake:<br />
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<b>Epilogue</b> </div>
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Just what do you think you are doing?”<br />
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Eleanor froze mid-lunge, her foil extended straight out in front of her. Blast, she was caught. The babbling brook that had so enchanted her when they purchased their small estate had apparently masked the sounds of her husband’s approach. Biting her lip, she straightened and turned to face the music. Nick stood behind her, partially shrouded in the heavy sheet of early morning fog, his arms crossed and his brow raised expectantly.<br />
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She offered a bright smile, all innocence. “Morning constitutional?”<br />
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He let his hands fall to his hips, giving her a very nice view of his chest through the partially-buttoned, generously-cut white shirt. “Uh huh.” He started forward, closing the distance between them with four easy strides. “You, madam, know full well you are not to be out here like this.”<br />
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Even as he pinned her with his sternest expression, his lips still curled with a hint of that delicious smile of his. Her heart gave a little flip. Almost a year of marriage, and he still could take her breath away.<br />
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He stopped an arm’s length away and held out his hand. “Your weapon?”<br />
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Scrunching her nose, she tucked the foil into the crook of her elbow. “Don’t be silly, Nicolas. There’s nothing wrong with a little exercise. In fact, I think it’s good.”<br />
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He flapped his hand open and closed in the universal sign for hand it over. “The doctor said no strenuous activities.”<br />
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“Oh really,” she said, lifting an imperious brow. “If I recall correctly, you were quite enthusiastic about our strenuous activities last night.”<br />
<br />
Nick gave a bark of laughter and shook his head. “Oh, sure—use that against me.” Chuckling, he slipped a hand over her shoulder and tugged her in for a kiss, foil and all. She sighed happily, readily leaning into his embrace.<br />
<br />
When he pulled back, he placed a tender hand to her middle. The warmth of his bare fingers seeping through the fabric of her fencing shirt was nothing compared to the warmth of his gaze. “I know it’s very early yet, but put a poor soldier’s mind at ease, and do please stick to walking for your constitutionals.”<br />
<br />
She loved when he looked at her like that, as though she were the most precious treasure in the world. Because of that look, she had taken the biggest risk of her life—throwing years of caution to the wind in order to be with him—and it had paid off beyond her wildest dreams. A husband who loved, respected, and cherished her, a much longed for baby on the way, and all the family members who really mattered—Aunt Margaret, Libby, and William—by their sides, refusing to be intimidated by Uncle Robert’s wrath.<br />
<br />
She was happier than she’d ever been in her life, and she had one person to thank for it.<br />
<br />
Covering his hand with her own, she sighed and nodded. “Fine, fine. Have it your way. But I warn you—I shall hold you accountable for keeping me entertained for the next seven or so months.”<br />
<br />
His smile was slow and devilish and full of promise. “Deal.”<br />
<br />
In one smooth move, he divested her of the foil and lifted her into his arms, making her laugh out loud. “Nicholas!” she gasped, clinging to his neck as he started back for the house.<br />
<br />
“What?” he said mildly, not the least bit winded as he navigated the rocky uphill path. “I take my promises very seriously. If it is entertainment you want, it is entertainment you shall have.”<br />
<br />
Grinning, Eleanor settled into his arms, relishing the familiar smell of his skin and the feel of his muscled arms around her. There was no other place on earth she’d rather be. “Thank you,” she whispered, the simple words filled with a wealth of emotion.<br />
<br />
He slowed and tilted his head so he could meet her gaze. “Whatever for?”<br />
<br />
“For making me the happiest person in all of England.”<br />
<br />
His arms tightened around her as he brushed a soft kiss against her lips. “My dear Ellie,” he said, his voice slightly gruff. “I’m merely returning the favor.”<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
SO, that's it for now! I hope you enjoyed this little extra, written with love just for you. And don't miss Scandalized by a Scoundrel, coming November 15th, for Amelia and Gabriel's story.
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<br />Erin Knightleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09368123673970225476noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5071542331530983118.post-10987851329170377952013-10-14T14:11:00.000-04:002013-10-14T14:44:14.925-04:00Cover Reveal, Excerpt, plus Fun News!Hi everyone!<br />
<br />
Yes, I know I have been terribly amiss at blogging, but I have a good reason: I'm almost done with my next novella!! So today, I am doing a cover reveal as well as an exclusive excerpt.<br />
<br />
Before we get to that, I want to share my exciting news: I'm now an award-winning author! <a href="http://www.amazon.com/Taste-Scandal-Sealed-Novel-ebook/dp/B0090UMLRG/ref=sr_1_6_bnp_1_kin?ie=UTF8&qid=1381773333&sr=8-6&keywords=erin+knightley" target="_blank"><b>A Taste for Scandal</b></a> won best historical/regency romance in the Book Buyers Best 2013 contest. A big thank you to the judges and the Orange County Romance Writers of America!<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUgKJkaDQplAcIhIFeOIg7sTc89fLngpTbL2lD_83fhUlWsSzxP-WytPMiRGOOBi8Q2f84HnvJJ5jXA0uHkRmFuLUGoB0w4w-C9JTJFE5efZY1WQOZXeate7zZt4sVhDu4NhT8U5AENYc/s1600/Book+Buyers+Best+award.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUgKJkaDQplAcIhIFeOIg7sTc89fLngpTbL2lD_83fhUlWsSzxP-WytPMiRGOOBi8Q2f84HnvJJ5jXA0uHkRmFuLUGoB0w4w-C9JTJFE5efZY1WQOZXeate7zZt4sVhDu4NhT8U5AENYc/s320/Book+Buyers+Best+award.jpg" width="240" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
<br />
Now, without further ado, I give you...<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJn70wuzbVQSWiX-HkgyjaU1PXX_-hOEwy5jeBofNyhuLn-cX4GucGelSflcK8W-nJWxSvQ1-xhm_ZzRkPvRD5PMGjOW5zE1z7-NLF49Rxh5sg-tNspKlUDAAHSSaz_sQiqtD1n3mloXk/s1600/Scandalized+by+a+Scoundrel+Reveal.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="444" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJn70wuzbVQSWiX-HkgyjaU1PXX_-hOEwy5jeBofNyhuLn-cX4GucGelSflcK8W-nJWxSvQ1-xhm_ZzRkPvRD5PMGjOW5zE1z7-NLF49Rxh5sg-tNspKlUDAAHSSaz_sQiqtD1n3mloXk/s640/Scandalized+by+a+Scoundrel+Reveal.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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The following is an unedited excerpt. I hope you enjoy this, the first sneak peek!<br />
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<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Chapter
One</span></b></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">For a man with a pistol pointed at his chest, the trespasser
seemed rather disconcertingly unconcerned.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Amelia Watson adjusted her grip on her weapon and repeated
her question. “What business have you on my father’s lands, sir?” She didn’t
waver at all, instead holding steady and true on her target. Her exceptionally
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">broad</i> target. The man’s chest was
nearly as wide as his patronizing smile.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">“If these lands are your father’s, then clearly I have taken
a wrong turn.” He tilted his head, his dark gaze raking over her from the lacy bottom
of her dainty pink morning gown to the top of her beribboned straw bonnet
before landing again on her outstretched pistol. “I must say, you make for a
very unique welcoming committee for poor, lost souls who have unwittingly
wandered across property lines.”</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">What kind of accent was that, anyway? Yes, he spoke the
King’s English, but there was a flavor to it that she didn’t quite recognize.
Not Scottish or Irish, but definitely something. His looks gave no hint to what
it may be. His eyes were nearly the same color as his hair, both dark and
shining in the morning sun. Based on his tanned skin, she’d wager he spent quite
a bit of time in the elements.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">His rough wool jacket fit well enough, but certainly wasn’t
of the best quality. Nor were his well-worn boots, which were liberally scuffed
and mud-stained, despite the dry ground. Stubble shadowed his cheeks, as though
he’d gone a day or two without the benefit of a razor. Even so, his eyes seemed
intelligent, his posture proud. He didn’t <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">look</i>
like a man who was looking for trouble, but she couldn’t be sure.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">And really, what did a villain look like? According to Papa,
half the members of parliament were criminals.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Grateful for the solid weight of the pistol’s brass grip,
she lifted her chin. “There are poor, lost souls, and there are those up to no
good. Speak now as to your purpose here, before I make up my own mind and act
accordingly.”</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">She was careful to control her breathing, not giving away
the fact that her heart was pounding like a runaway horse. It had been since the
moment he appeared from the copse of trees lining her favorite path. Perhaps she
should have listened to Papa’s warning to her not to go walking unaccompanied. Although,
to be fair, he had issued the same warning every time she stepped foot outside
the house for as long as she could remember.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">The man lifted an eyebrow, everything about him showing a
complete lack of worry regarding her and her flintlock. “You are aware that
there is a wedding this week on your neighbor’s estate?”</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Heat that had nothing to do with the late summer sun stole
up her cheeks. Of course—the wedding. Eleanor had invited her weeks ago, but
Amelia hadn’t even thought about the fact that guests were sure to be arriving
early.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Although . . . she narrowed her eyes speculatively at the
handsome intruder. Most everyone in the area knew about the coming nuptials, so
it was possible he was merely using the event as an excuse. “I am indeed
aware—as is nearly everyone else in a twenty-five mile radius. Do you have some
sort of proof that you are a guest?”</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">The corner of his lip quirked up. “Of course. Here, let me
just fish my engraved invitation from my coat pocket, where I keep it for just
such an occasion as this.” He made no move toward his jacket, not that she
expected him to. Clearly he was mocking her.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">She glared at him, unamused. “Fine, then be off
with you. Do not return, sir, or you will find me somewhat less hospitable.”</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">His brows lifted halfway up his forehead. <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">“Less </i>hospitable? Shall I be drawn and
quartered then?”</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">The gun was beginning to weigh heavy in her hand, but she
refused to back down. She didn’t know this man from Adam, and his flippant
attitude put her on edge. “If you’re lucky.”</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">He chuckled softly and tipped his hat. “Very well. I can
take a hint. Good day, Miss Watson.”</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Her eyes widened at the mention of her name. “Wait,” she
exclaimed, stopping him mid-turn. Dropping the gun to her side, she peered at
him with renewed interest. “How did you know my name?”</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">One single brow lifted as he tilted his head. “I don’t
imagine there are many pistol-wielding, beautiful young women in these parts.”
He tapped his forehead. “Deductive reasoning.” </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">With that, he turned and walked away, leaving her
hot-cheeked and stunned. A moment later, a slow, reluctant
smile came to her lips. Apparently her reputation preceded her. She stuffed the
pistol back into the deep pocket at her hip where she always carried it, and
set off for the house. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">It would seem a visit to her neighbor’s estate had just been
added to her agenda. </span></div>
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Erin Knightleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09368123673970225476noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5071542331530983118.post-55125992172375068112013-09-18T13:49:00.001-04:002013-09-18T13:49:16.017-04:00Fun at the Biltmore - Plus a Reading of Flirting with Fortune!I've never been the type of person who has trouble being alone. Which is a good thing, given my profession! So, when my friend had a family emergency and couldn't join me on our planned trip to the Biltmore, I decided to go anyway. And I'm so glad I did!<br />
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The day was beautiful, and it was a unique experience being completely on my own for such a trip. I ate lunch at the first place that took my fancy (had an award winning Reuben sandwich - yum!). I brought my edits and contentedly worked in the glorious 70-something degree weather.<br />
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When I was ready to go, I hied off to the Biltmore, deciding to walk to the house from the parking lot instead of take the shuttle. Good choice!</div>
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Once in the house, which was delightfully uncrowded, I indulged in a tour. The Architecture tour talked all about how the house was built, and took you up the the nooks and crannies of the roof so you could see all the fun details up close and personal. You know, like this gargoyle's butt:</div>
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Which I decided to take a picture with: </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1Y3W-vpWbMWvjBC-I0bTZUBlWdNlY4tXODkG0E9j9sRatT6NUdgBAqV9vzzdY2WFvAad9kVUFRU18f2MhwJakQ1f1dy3ijl5bD9kLIcqnGm6VThkwK_nKvejrHuEIpCHMNXnoOpTQLTI/s1600/IMG_6490.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1Y3W-vpWbMWvjBC-I0bTZUBlWdNlY4tXODkG0E9j9sRatT6NUdgBAqV9vzzdY2WFvAad9kVUFRU18f2MhwJakQ1f1dy3ijl5bD9kLIcqnGm6VThkwK_nKvejrHuEIpCHMNXnoOpTQLTI/s320/IMG_6490.jpg" width="240" /></a></div>
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After the tour was over, I indulged in the fresh made ice cream. And you know, after 80 million steps in the architecture tour, I totally earned it! </div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxA1vPDjgt3wzdrC6eahS0WMAVNpVWyT0hGJastO_hjmMTdi2JYDCbvSAlG4hRTycfnO4At7MJ-nrEZxJgxo3VrjpmcHcfP9BMtki52d9ILE9h_KkvsLqnPtpVnkjtJHewgFpWjUmnPjk/s1600/IMG_6504.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxA1vPDjgt3wzdrC6eahS0WMAVNpVWyT0hGJastO_hjmMTdi2JYDCbvSAlG4hRTycfnO4At7MJ-nrEZxJgxo3VrjpmcHcfP9BMtki52d9ILE9h_KkvsLqnPtpVnkjtJHewgFpWjUmnPjk/s320/IMG_6504.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">And yes, this is a KID sized cone O-0</td></tr>
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After I had wondered the house and grounds to my heart's content, I got a wild hair and decided to make good use of the place. Lying on the grass on my belly, propping my iPhone up on my water cup and leaning it against the straw, I recorded an excerpt from my latest release, Flirting with Fortune. Enjoy!<br />
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<iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="315" src="//www.youtube.com/embed/E5iFS3M5-2k" width="420"></iframe><br />
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<br />Erin Knightleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09368123673970225476noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5071542331530983118.post-4604751596016700212013-08-12T19:18:00.002-04:002013-09-03T15:23:20.147-04:00Reader's Rainbow - Historical Romance Palooza! <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitQvJjJFkMWvhiXBg8w3TP4A5MQZdwkxDvczrWemt81dlfSnn5eZMPROoEWb1b6hfx8BV1GX8erLWg6Rz4ff4CW-oaRrTIbUhKPJmCOKfzdntVXJQ1Hiz-EpX02UDHD6bWtWJzcqtFkx0/s1600/rainbow.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="440" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitQvJjJFkMWvhiXBg8w3TP4A5MQZdwkxDvczrWemt81dlfSnn5eZMPROoEWb1b6hfx8BV1GX8erLWg6Rz4ff4CW-oaRrTIbUhKPJmCOKfzdntVXJQ1Hiz-EpX02UDHD6bWtWJzcqtFkx0/s640/rainbow.jpg" width="640" /></a><br />
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<span style="color: purple;"><b>**Update** </b></span><br />
<span style="color: purple;"><b>The winners have been chosen via Rafflecopter
and notified. Check the widget below to see who the lucky winners are.
Congrats to them, and thanks everyone for joining in the fun! </b></span><br />
<span style="color: purple;"><b><br /></b></span>
<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmn3OnNyF29x_7oZi78w2hhTL0vUY41t0wcSs8kRVG3C-AhTwQILg1V3ICA_WTppF0C3Vf3Zkwo2ajCq_b2vfSlhCAgftjX1TDEPlXFRODoUbVpQDeD6sPaogj6kBK2HGkz_SpIja_9P4/s1600/Flirting+with+Fortune+Cover.jpg" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmn3OnNyF29x_7oZi78w2hhTL0vUY41t0wcSs8kRVG3C-AhTwQILg1V3ICA_WTppF0C3Vf3Zkwo2ajCq_b2vfSlhCAgftjX1TDEPlXFRODoUbVpQDeD6sPaogj6kBK2HGkz_SpIja_9P4/s320/Flirting+with+Fortune+Cover.jpg" width="198" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.amazon.com/Flirting-With-Fortune-Sealed-Novel/dp/0451413482/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1372432061&sr=8-1&keywords=flirting+with+fortune" target="_blank">Amazon</a> | <a href="https://itunes.apple.com/us/book/flirting-with-fortune/id601796670?mt=11" target="_blank">iTunes</a> | <a href="http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/flirting-with-fortune-erin-knightley/1113122412?ean=9780451413482" target="_blank">Barnes & Noble</a></td></tr>
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<b><span style="font-size: large;">It's that time of year again!! </span></b><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;">To
celebrate the September 3rd release of FLIRTING WITH FORTUNE, Book 3 in
my Sealed with a Kiss series, I'm giving away an entire <b><span style="color: red;">R<span style="color: orange;">A</span></span><span style="color: lime;"><span style="color: yellow;">I</span>N</span><span style="color: cyan;">B</span><span style="color: blue;">O</span><span style="color: magenta;">W</span></b> of signed books! So, before we go any further, let's answer these simple questions:</span><br />
<br />
<span style="color: red;"><span style="font-size: large;">1) Do you like Historical Romance?</span></span><br />
<span style="color: lime;"><span style="font-size: large;">2) Do you like autographed books?</span></span><br />
<span style="color: blue;"><span style="font-size: large;">3) Do you like free stuff?</span></span><br />
<span style="color: blue;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="color: magenta;">4) Have you ever wanted to read a rainbow? </span></span></span><br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: large;">If you answered yes...</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><b>Then this is the giveaway for you! </b></span></div>
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: large;">There will be
four grand prize winners drawn on September 3rd. The winners will
receive one of the following (chosen at random): </span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: large;">The </span><span style="font-size: large;">Black and White Box, the Green</span><span style="font-size: large;"> Box, the Purple Box, or the Red Box! </span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiL7tsYMV9YdcaWAhCYEmZSKvtMapyrLxuegHdzgh29NXqxXYjH44-vv05dYMykwVxPV0fbE9cejCaKwZUi_6traiulohFdV0JcZLN6sx4xq61hcUq2EQ5KSaWf9WkDP4dfBJEN0ABFDdI/s1600/stacks.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiL7tsYMV9YdcaWAhCYEmZSKvtMapyrLxuegHdzgh29NXqxXYjH44-vv05dYMykwVxPV0fbE9cejCaKwZUi_6traiulohFdV0JcZLN6sx4xq61hcUq2EQ5KSaWf9WkDP4dfBJEN0ABFDdI/s640/stacks.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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<div style="text-align: left;">
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<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><u><b><span style="color: red;">The Red Box</span></b></u></span></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZxnlBL3RliFWsvkbnVNYs0Xt2hDrVmsJtyJpieQWSJBYF8L1_ECmz9nqNkTgEaV4f_puvbLwLZCFjgSej086RFefeIyUMkHzDmj4VEKfMf4NBA1KcLXc9Ix59BoUaE5ELa39girlWxoE/s1600/red.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZxnlBL3RliFWsvkbnVNYs0Xt2hDrVmsJtyJpieQWSJBYF8L1_ECmz9nqNkTgEaV4f_puvbLwLZCFjgSej086RFefeIyUMkHzDmj4VEKfMf4NBA1KcLXc9Ix59BoUaE5ELa39girlWxoE/s320/red.jpg" width="240" /></a><span style="font-size: large;"><a href="http://www.caraelliott.com/" target="_blank">Cara Elliott</a> - Too Dangerous to Desire</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><a href="http://kierankramerbooks.com/" target="_blank">Kieran Kramer</a> - The Earl is Mine</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><a href="http://annebarton.com/" target="_blank">Anne Barton</a> - When She was Wicked</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><a href="http://shanagalen.com/" target="_blank">Shana Galen</a> - If You Give a Rake a Ruby</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><a href="http://www.madelinehunter.com/" target="_blank">Madeline Hunter</a> - The Conquest of Lady Cassandra</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><a href="http://www.samanthagraceauthor.com/" target="_blank">Samantha Grace</a> - Miss Lavigne's Little White Lie</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><a href="http://www.annaleehuber.com/" target="_blank">Anna Lee Huber</a> - The Anatomist's Wife</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">Erin Knightley - A Taste for Scandal! </span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkUKGHpCObCKLGHVqbcE0GB6Kjxvo_VYo__Ckek6hJKkWMcwLe5q2SreJ3PLsuBEG1nYbkwaFYdLrKokVdPUQqgX8504St4kMHNydBs2hUb7cUQXXTiKe3_6YXdQ0_T8Ce3wSblK57J-8/s1600/flat+red.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="499" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkUKGHpCObCKLGHVqbcE0GB6Kjxvo_VYo__Ckek6hJKkWMcwLe5q2SreJ3PLsuBEG1nYbkwaFYdLrKokVdPUQqgX8504St4kMHNydBs2hUb7cUQXXTiKe3_6YXdQ0_T8Ce3wSblK57J-8/s640/flat+red.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<br />
<h4 style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="color: #674ea7;"> </span></span></h4>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><u><b><span style="color: #674ea7;">The Purple Box</span></b></u></span></span></div>
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMWAAHRl0bVjHWYxRxT8jDPbk-tD8nOH_Elak3DtQ1PzR882KMCseMSDMUrXprasDkclwcsaQpRdr3T9WQx5IoZTlyeAXQAHE2FE_U2P5GqDrvV_7JQ9wZqg6teNyqfpZ1cAwvppNE7fM/s1600/purple.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMWAAHRl0bVjHWYxRxT8jDPbk-tD8nOH_Elak3DtQ1PzR882KMCseMSDMUrXprasDkclwcsaQpRdr3T9WQx5IoZTlyeAXQAHE2FE_U2P5GqDrvV_7JQ9wZqg6teNyqfpZ1cAwvppNE7fM/s320/purple.jpg" width="240" /></a><span style="font-size: large;"><a href="http://traceydevlyn.com/" target="_blank"><br />Tracey Devlyn</a> - A Lady's Revenge</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><a href="http://www.sophiejordan.net/" target="_blank">Sophie Jordan</a> - How to Lose a Bride in One Night</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><a href="http://www.jobev.com/" target="_blank">Jo Beverly</a> - A Scandalous Countess</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><a href="http://graceburrowes.com/" target="_blank">Grace Burrows</a> - The Bridegroom Wore Plaid</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><a href="http://valeriebowmanbooks.com/" target="_blank">Valerie Bowman</a> - Secrets of a Runaway Bride</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><a href="http://elizabethessex.com/" target="_blank">Elizabeth Essex</a> - Breath of Scandal</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><a href="http://vickydreiling.com/" target="_blank">Vicky Dreiling</a> - What a Wicked Earl Wants</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;">Erin Knightley - A Taste for Scandal! </span></span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgObFOC1yeOUGy8i-ysQXcDgFE2HF2dAooFztyvKYdv7We7iSRilkmYMb4nxPIDoxVeokCPOFA1RD25wUskdhLvuCxKAaZV0nOhxggKO1i4fqUoDyvMUxF3OR-JW5af4hBXMrp6NFVOdAQ/s1600/flat+purple.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="506" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgObFOC1yeOUGy8i-ysQXcDgFE2HF2dAooFztyvKYdv7We7iSRilkmYMb4nxPIDoxVeokCPOFA1RD25wUskdhLvuCxKAaZV0nOhxggKO1i4fqUoDyvMUxF3OR-JW5af4hBXMrp6NFVOdAQ/s640/flat+purple.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<br />
<h4 style="text-align: left;">
<span style="color: lime;"><span style="font-size: large;"> </span></span></h4>
<h4 style="text-align: left;">
<span style="color: lime;"><span style="font-size: large;"> </span></span></h4>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="color: lime;"><span style="font-size: large;"><u><b>The Green Box </b></u></span></span></div>
<span style="font-size: large;"> </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKqhJQE5OdC92RzJvDH4P3k5bMWahc3u_DQ6oL0m_vjotnsJ74PxQ63WbIw_06r9B1VvCWTevswII0iHOcIfDTMMRDtujyxLgNMiIEC6eFexHoRIKULJGUqcLbQqZMaHoSJtdQj95lMFo/s1600/greens.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKqhJQE5OdC92RzJvDH4P3k5bMWahc3u_DQ6oL0m_vjotnsJ74PxQ63WbIw_06r9B1VvCWTevswII0iHOcIfDTMMRDtujyxLgNMiIEC6eFexHoRIKULJGUqcLbQqZMaHoSJtdQj95lMFo/s320/greens.jpg" width="240" /></a> </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><a href="http://www.julieannelong.com/" target="_blank">Julie Anne Long</a> - What I Did for a Duke</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><a href="http://eloisajames.com/" target="_blank">Eloisa James</a> - The Ugly Duchess</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><a href="http://www.cathymaxwell.com/" target="_blank">Cathy Maxwell</a> - Because of You</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><a href="http://www.elizabethhoyt.com/" target="_blank">Elizabeth Hoyt</a> - Lord of Darkness</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><a href="http://www.jenmcquiston.com/" target="_blank">Jennifer McQuiston</a> - What Happens in Scotland</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><a href="http://www.katharineashe.com/" target="_blank">Katharine Ashe</a> - When a Scot Loves a Lady</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><a href="http://www.julianagray.com/" target="_blank">Juliana Gray</a> - How to Tame Your Duke</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;">Erin Knightley - A Taste for Scandal! </span></span><br />
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<br />
<span style="font-size: large;"> </span><span style="font-size: large;"><b><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigfsxI9OVd8r8jInJH_4Fu8yDchW-4ThFFRhvbgLnrl_dF8NiwOmmQs5ITcTKr-67FjualnREUAQWjjFsXuWMWVQq5RlaNsneQwy_-x7ISvNGb-2bYN7U_jNvLFt6z_mUOW0PdmlKI-p4/s1600/flat+green.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="500" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigfsxI9OVd8r8jInJH_4Fu8yDchW-4ThFFRhvbgLnrl_dF8NiwOmmQs5ITcTKr-67FjualnREUAQWjjFsXuWMWVQq5RlaNsneQwy_-x7ISvNGb-2bYN7U_jNvLFt6z_mUOW0PdmlKI-p4/s640/flat+green.jpg" width="640" /></a></b></span><br />
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<br />
<a name='more'></a><br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><u><b>The Black and White Box</b></u></span></div>
<span style="font-size: large;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihhvNNFq2kaYrCj_ocsRJWf5Dh_0xty8NRY7dlS8x6duN8P30c-jAuBMDrsJiQEK5R3sJRxpHrc8gXMReXjI2J_MnSuTR7HtbMcYQXkmLM5gfyxtMfm-DCU09_Cux0P2UB4Xa8YdQ8Pi0/s1600/black+and+white.jpg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihhvNNFq2kaYrCj_ocsRJWf5Dh_0xty8NRY7dlS8x6duN8P30c-jAuBMDrsJiQEK5R3sJRxpHrc8gXMReXjI2J_MnSuTR7HtbMcYQXkmLM5gfyxtMfm-DCU09_Cux0P2UB4Xa8YdQ8Pi0/s320/black+and+white.jpg" width="240" /></a><a href="http://www.eileendreyer.com/" target="_blank">Eileen Dreyer </a>- Barely a Lady</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><a href="http://www.elizabethboyle.com/" target="_blank">Elizabeth Boyle</a> - Mad About the Duke</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><a href="http://www.sherrythomas.com/" target="_blank">Sherry Thomas</a> - Tempting the Bride</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><a href="http://www.lauraleeguhrke.com/" target="_blank">Laura Lee Guhrke</a> - Wedding of the Season</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><a href="http://macleanspace.com/" target="_blank">Sarah MacLean</a> - Nine Rules to Break When Romancing a Rake</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><a href="http://www.jenniferdelamere.com/" target="_blank">Jennifer Delamere</a> - An Heiress at Heart</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><a href="http://www.sabrinajeffries.com/" target="_blank">Sabrina Jeffries</a> - 'Twas the Night After Christmas</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">Erin Knightley - A Taste for Scandal! </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;"> </span><span style="font-size: large;"><b><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6wYHyjDXZREaG0kTByJYddJ09HYiJZy2OntDAdvk20ywJ0sAWg2MSC9fbUbteRrV_RHEcurblFltvn7fqGd4FrogHzwUT6xNuJQYu-b-6wmXUY-9DT08P0nol83phr8YdthDK8NnIuuM/s1600/flat+black+and+white.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="512" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6wYHyjDXZREaG0kTByJYddJ09HYiJZy2OntDAdvk20ywJ0sAWg2MSC9fbUbteRrV_RHEcurblFltvn7fqGd4FrogHzwUT6xNuJQYu-b-6wmXUY-9DT08P0nol83phr8YdthDK8NnIuuM/s640/flat+black+and+white.jpg" width="640" /></a></b></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;">Plus...</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">A Mystery Box of 5 Books! These are not signed, but they are outstanding reads. Wouldn't you just LOVE to know what they are?</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8Kul14rCNUASrHQUCbHXtAuLRJA8P-_eX8sxe0KxCLY7l6cr1vFQwU3JJrdjYcU1vxXKoGBkSU0S10jiUo6c8uHvGZsFbRNT96Paf4bKdL0wcbrTJ9Z-kMFCIbYkwXA85ZmPDAulmnI4/s1600/mystery+box.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8Kul14rCNUASrHQUCbHXtAuLRJA8P-_eX8sxe0KxCLY7l6cr1vFQwU3JJrdjYcU1vxXKoGBkSU0S10jiUo6c8uHvGZsFbRNT96Paf4bKdL0wcbrTJ9Z-kMFCIbYkwXA85ZmPDAulmnI4/s400/mystery+box.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHMVQumLM-EPAPebj8t0Gw3QLDEQo3U0aqh_dVtTwwR1k6wKBGNM1oN8XOTtbg6i_7rr11CFLY6AzdwVHas63dnpd6GP-A8JjhhcEwI9bsyD8T8d6YyStGrwwQG68m3SYBm_FKnkP5EFs/s1600/FINAL+Ruined+by+a+Rake+Cover+Cropped.jpg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHMVQumLM-EPAPebj8t0Gw3QLDEQo3U0aqh_dVtTwwR1k6wKBGNM1oN8XOTtbg6i_7rr11CFLY6AzdwVHas63dnpd6GP-A8JjhhcEwI9bsyD8T8d6YyStGrwwQG68m3SYBm_FKnkP5EFs/s200/FINAL+Ruined+by+a+Rake+Cover+Cropped.jpg" width="126" /></a><span style="font-size: large;"> You
can earn up to 17 entries! Enter using the Rafflecopter below.
US/Canada only please. Best of luck! (PS - Don't forget to get your
copy of my #1 Regency Bestselling novella <i>Ruined by a Rake</i> - <b>FREE</b> for a limited time! </span><span style="font-size: large;"><a href="http://www.amazon.com/Ruined-Rake-Novella-ebook/dp/B00C4CSUDG/ref=sr_1_1?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1365658171&sr=1-1&keywords=ruined+by+a+rake" target="_blank">Amazon</a> | <a href="http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/ruined-by-a-rake-a-novella-erin-knightley/1114970361?ean=2940045184441" target="_blank">Barnes and Noble</a> | <a href="https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/301562" target="_blank">Smashwords</a> | <a href="https://itunes.apple.com/us/book/ruined-by-a-rake-a-novella/id630966635?mt=11" target="_blank">iTunes</a>)</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><a class="rafl" href="http://www.rafflecopter.com/rafl/display/01abd81/" id="rc-01abd81" rel="nofollow">a Rafflecopter giveaway</a><br /><script src="//d12vno17mo87cx.cloudfront.net/embed/rafl/cptr.js"></script><br /><br /><br /> </span><br />
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<br />Erin Knightleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09368123673970225476noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5071542331530983118.post-70568750626231011562013-08-06T17:03:00.005-04:002013-08-06T17:16:48.546-04:00What's Better than Free?NOTHING! Which is why I'm so excited to announce the following:<br />
<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7P7_LKICmoGskdbIcFwmG6HQ0Qmsho1lGCT_RBUvjgfZuL_EEkDe893gMUMYHvfylyjjRLTd4y0Bi_qxFGG-68ZYrnrYCUCkF91ZfpYz15JQxKeaLC_9RxBjbG1brF6whmN7bsBJGsdo/s1600/RUINED+BY+A+RAKE+Free+Banner+with+%27the;.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="394" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7P7_LKICmoGskdbIcFwmG6HQ0Qmsho1lGCT_RBUvjgfZuL_EEkDe893gMUMYHvfylyjjRLTd4y0Bi_qxFGG-68ZYrnrYCUCkF91ZfpYz15JQxKeaLC_9RxBjbG1brF6whmN7bsBJGsdo/s640/RUINED+BY+A+RAKE+Free+Banner+with+%27the;.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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<span class="fbPhotosPhotoCaption" data-ft="{"type":45}" id="fbPhotoSnowliftCaption" tabindex="0"><span class="hasCaption"><a href="http://goo.gl/Qd1cBZ" target="_blank">Amazon</a> <a href="http://goo.gl/Nx7UX8" target="_blank">Apple</a> <a href="http://goo.gl/4wkBV" target="_blank"> Smashwords</a> and B&N (coming soon!) </span></span></div>
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Now go forth and read, enjoy, and share! </div>
<br />
ANDErin Knightleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09368123673970225476noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5071542331530983118.post-22397753049579947222013-07-15T11:12:00.001-04:002013-07-15T11:29:35.268-04:00Swag Time!!Hi Everyone!!<br />
<br />
As many of you know, I am headed to the huge national Romance Writers of America Convention this week. (If you are in the Atlanta area, come to the huge <a href="http://www.rwa.org/p/cm/ld/fid=564" target="_blank">book signing</a> on Wed!) Anyone going knows that there is swag and books galore to be had - but only if you can make it! <br />
<br />
So I decided to have a big swag giveaway this week - and you <i>don't </i>have to be present to win. Simply be signed up for my newsletter (<a href="http://erinknightley.us4.list-manage1.com/subscribe?u=097d40a35099ec6ff856dddab&id=f3f5388399" target="_blank">CLICK HERE</a>) by Sunday, July 21, and I'll randomly draw winners when I get home from the conference! I'll be giving away:<br />
<ul>
<li>T-shirts </li>
</ul>
<ul>
<li>Signed books (mine and others!) </li>
</ul>
<ul>
<li>Audiobook of <a href="http://www.audible.com/pd/ref=sr_1_1?asin=B00DEPRE0C&qid=1373902064&sr=1-1" target="_blank">MORE THAN A STRANGER </a></li>
</ul>
<ul>
<li>Audiobook of <a href="http://www.audible.com/pd/ref=sr_1_2?asin=B00DTTSJUC&qid=1373902064&sr=1-2" target="_blank">RUINED BY A RAKE </a></li>
</ul>
<ul>
<li>iPhone case </li>
</ul>
Plus....<br /><ul>
<li>A grand prize that includes everything pictured below, including an advance copy of FLIRTING WITH FORTUNE! </li>
</ul>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7nYYQwDlbV1mgmJzsA-Dx266QOy3a3gKPmC-HrDxG9swJkOVmA6mh1knsVR8s3uLy6P7Rs8qLrOE3IMcI0BAzafOlR3fdoudbfBwI9H3W8zLH2BULAKivcorEV__viIgKkaprs1y_UvY/s1600/swagpack.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7nYYQwDlbV1mgmJzsA-Dx266QOy3a3gKPmC-HrDxG9swJkOVmA6mh1knsVR8s3uLy6P7Rs8qLrOE3IMcI0BAzafOlR3fdoudbfBwI9H3W8zLH2BULAKivcorEV__viIgKkaprs1y_UvY/s640/swagpack.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
Erin Knightleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09368123673970225476noreply@blogger.com15tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5071542331530983118.post-2607391686046045892013-07-12T10:12:00.003-04:002013-07-12T10:22:16.148-04:00A Little Something for all the Readers Out There<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="color: purple;"><b>SURPRISE</b>! I've had my #1
Regency Bestselling novella, RUINED BY A RAKE, turned into an audiobook! </span></div>
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<div style="text-align: left;">
<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_7m5sLEC-PmR28Saq7OJmNIRyeKH6OgBI_z81m571O_imIY7LLdg80CeacDzTaz3WR1oS-t4yEQg19b-RT_KEqVKWX7vnVYL2fGcDVZhkOUoZfftRCigiKhobdlxfwOQXL1jU3puy52I/s1600/Ruined+by+a+Rake+Audio+Cover+FINAL+VERSION.jpg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_7m5sLEC-PmR28Saq7OJmNIRyeKH6OgBI_z81m571O_imIY7LLdg80CeacDzTaz3WR1oS-t4yEQg19b-RT_KEqVKWX7vnVYL2fGcDVZhkOUoZfftRCigiKhobdlxfwOQXL1jU3puy52I/s320/Ruined+by+a+Rake+Audio+Cover+FINAL+VERSION.jpg" width="320" /></a><span style="color: purple;">A little behind the scenes info for you. When I first decided to move forward with having the audiobook made, I envisioned a lovely, female, British-accented narrator bringing Eleanor and Nick's story to life. BUT, while the very first audition I received was most definitely lovely and British-accented, it was definitely not from a female. However, being the open-minded gal that I am, I gave it a listen . . . and promptly fell in love :) Alastair had knocked it out of the park, and I hired him on the spot.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br />
<span style="color: purple;">And boy, am I glad I did. He brought magic to the story that I find mesmerizing. Won't you give it a listen and see if you agree? To enjoy a little 13 minute sample, click <b><a href="https://dl.dropboxusercontent.com/u/25987194/Ruined%20By%20A%20Rake%20-%203.mp3" target="_blank">HERE</a>!</b> (It takes a minute to load, fyi) </span></div>
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<span style="color: purple;">So, if you or someone you know would like to be transported to Regency England without having to so much as turn a page, I hope you'll check this audiobook out. It's a 2 hours and 10 minute escape that I sincerely hope you'll love! </span></div>
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</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br />
<b><span style="color: purple;"> Available at <a href="http://www.audible.com/pd/?asin=B00DTTSJUC&source_code=soc_twi_nr" target="_blank">Audible</a>, <a href="http://www.amazon.com/Ruined-Rake-A-Novella/dp/B00DV5Y3FY/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1373555080&sr=8-1&keywords=ruined+by+a+rake+audiobook" target="_blank">Amazon</a>, and <a href="https://itunes.apple.com/us/artist/erin-knightley/id499394377?mt=11" target="_blank">iTunes</a> for only $6.95! </span></b></div>
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Erin Knightleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09368123673970225476noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5071542331530983118.post-80669774734841782452013-07-01T00:30:00.000-04:002013-07-01T00:30:01.531-04:00All I Really Need
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i>As seen on the Lady Scribes Blog today :) </i><br />
<br />
A few weeks ago, I was alone at home with my three dogs when
the weather abruptly began to change. I stepped outside and looked to the
skies, unease skittering down my spine. A dark bank of clouds rapidly skirted
across the sky, blocking out the sunlight and turning the late afternoon to a
false twilight.<br />
<br />
Wind rattled the trees and kicked up little whitecaps on the
lake, and the air temperature noticeably dropped as the first raindrops hit the
ground. Behind me, the dogs fussed and wined, dancing back and forth in front
of the door.
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br />
I wasn’t quite worried yet—it is summer in North Carolina
after all, and we know a thing or two about thunderstorms.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I took a few minutes to hurriedly
secure the furniture on the dock, to tuck away a few gardening tools, and to
tip over the wheelbarrow so it didn’t turn into a birdbath. But as I brushed
off my hands and started to head inside, a sound arose that stopped me in my
tracks.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br />
The tornado sirens.
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br />
I have lived in my neighborhood for eight years now, and I
have never once heard those sirens outside of the once a year scheduled
drill.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Now, as they wailed into
the growing darkness, dread pooled in my stomach and I raced to the house.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>There, I grabbed my computer, my purse,
and a lantern and herded the dogs into the basement.
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br />
The reality of the moment hit me as I watched the unsettled
skies churn through the basement windows. What if this really did happen? Did I
have everything I needed? No—I needed a few more things. I was dressed in a
tattered denim dress from high school that only came out when the doors were
locked and there was no threat of company. It was sleeveless and short—was this
what I wanted to be stuck wearing if everything else was destroyed? And my flip
flops would be treacherous if I had to navigate a debris field.
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br />
After another look at the skies and a moment of listening
for anything unusual, I sprinted back up the stairs. Once in my closet, I
snagged my tennis shoes, a pair of jeans, and a sturdy t-shirt.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I started to leave when I thought about
the possibility of <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>being wet and
cold if anything went drastically wrong. So I grabbed a hoodie. But right next
to it was a pretty, lightweight gold cardigan that may be a comfort if I had
nothing else. And the sleeveless navy and white polka-dot top that goes with it
was hanging nearby, so I snagged that too. Oh, and yoga pants were a must—I
couldn’t sleep in jeans, if worse came to worse! With the sirens still ringing
the alarm and with my arms now laden with appropriate clothing, I grabbed my
favorite coral flats (they don’t sell them anymore!) and dashed back down the
stairs.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br />
When I hit the main floor, it occurred to me that I didn’t
want to be without food in the event of an emergency. Bundling the clothes and
shoes in a big ball in one arm, I quickly added bread, peanut butter and jelly,
and the new box of This Bar Saves Lives granola bars to the stash. Oh, but
there wasn’t any water in the basement! A water bottle got tucked beneath my
chin.
</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjybSFLhRTdy69KgPjZZdvuuAuvYbguL1eozMaSr5l2-BkoR5XnsS_47QbSenKF4wrpDtZtGwblpo70iOkmNz1XAks4BmACSPL-_po5qSZEXa8GWdoZTV183tNCKyq4TpXb9swKI1spm6U6/s1600/tornado.jpg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjybSFLhRTdy69KgPjZZdvuuAuvYbguL1eozMaSr5l2-BkoR5XnsS_47QbSenKF4wrpDtZtGwblpo70iOkmNz1XAks4BmACSPL-_po5qSZEXa8GWdoZTV183tNCKyq4TpXb9swKI1spm6U6/s320/tornado.jpg" width="320" /></a><br />
As I lumbered toward the basement doors, struggling not to
drop anything, I spotted my photo album from childhood, filled with all the
irreplaceable Kodak moments of yesteryear. Biting my lip as I peered out the
living room windows at the angry heavens, I shifted my armload of stuff until I
could grasp the album between my elbow and ribs.
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br />
As I struggled down the stairs with the things I would need
to start a new life, a certain scene from a certain Steve Martin movie suddenly
came to mind. And then it hit me: Oh God—I was The Jerk!
</div>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<div style="margin-bottom: .1pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: .1pt;">
"Well
I'm gonna to go then! And I don't need any of this. I don't need this stuff,
and I don't need *you*. I don't need anything. Except this. [<span class="fine">picks
up an ashtray</span>] That's the only thing I need is *this*. I don't need this
or this. Just this ashtray... And this paddle game. - The ashtray and the
paddle game and that's all I need... And this remote control. - The ashtray,
the paddle game, and the remote control, and that's all I need... And these
matches. - The ashtray, and these matches, and the remote control, and the
paddle ball... And this lamp. - The ashtray, this paddle game, and the remote
control, and the lamp, and that's all *I* need. And that's *all* I need too. I
don't need one other thing, not one... I need this. - The paddle game and the
chair, and the remote control, and the matches for sure. Well what are you
looking at? What do you think I'm some kind of a jerk or something! - And this.
That's all I need. </div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .1pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: .1pt;">
[<span class="fine">walking outside</span>] </div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .1pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: .1pt;">
The
ashtray, the remote control, the paddle game, and this magazine, and the chair.
And I don't need one other thing, except my dog. </div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .1pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: .1pt;">
[<span class="fine">dog growls at him</span>] </div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .1pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: .1pt;">
I
don't need my dog." </div>
</blockquote>
<div style="margin-bottom: .1pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: .1pt;">
So yeah – I <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">totally</i>
failed the emergency response drill. Thank goodness all ended up being well,
though a tornado was spotted 5 miles north of me. In the future, I’ll remember
that all I need is my healthy self and the dogs. And my computer.
And those coral flats.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br />
<b>SO what would YOU grab if your house were about to be
destroyed?</b> And be honest – I can’t be the only one who wanted a PB&J!</div>
Erin Knightleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09368123673970225476noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5071542331530983118.post-82538250463957531092013-06-03T10:44:00.003-04:002013-06-03T10:44:27.189-04:00You've Got a Friend in Me :)<i>As seen on <a href="http://www.ladyscribes.blogspot.com/2013/06/youve-got-friend-in-me.html" target="_blank">Lady Scribes</a> blog today</i><br />
<br />
I stumbled across a <a href="http://i.huffpost.com/gen/1160193/original.jpg" target="_blank">picture</a> on the internet this week that
almost instantly brought tears to my eyes. It was an artist’s rendering of a
grown-up Calvin, discovering old Hobbes in a box in the attic. *pauses* *takes
fortifying breath* A little verklempt just talking about…<br />
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
Ahem.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Anyway,
it made me think of Toy Story 3, and the tragedy of leaving toys behind as we
grow up. Good Lord – I cried SO HARD during that movie. Like, <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">ugly</i> cried. People were edging away. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
But, as with many other snifflers out there, there was a
good reason for my tears.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br />
Snoopy.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br />
Yes, you all know that I am a closet Snoopy lover, and that
his little beagle face makes my heart go pitter patter.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But what you don’t know is that love
affair started with a foot tall stuffed animal I received somewhere around the
first grade.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He was magnificent!
Wearing sassy conductor overalls with a handy cutout for his tail, Snoopy was
the perfect companion. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br />
He was solid enough to keep my wild, vivid dreams and the
occasional nightmares at bay, soft enough to bury my face in his chest and cry,
and sturdy enough to follow me on every trip I took. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
He followed me on the adventures I took into the woods near
our house, and listened to my stories from school. He joined me at my first
sleepover, and rode out many a thunderstorm at my side. His fur gradually
turned from white to brownish gray, but he was still gorgeous to me. I remember
once when we were one a camping trip with my family, and I was gleefully
tossing him in the air, trying to see how high he could soar. It was all fun
and games until he plummeted back to Earth just out of my reach and landed flat
on his face. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br />
I gasped, horrified that I might have hurt him, and gathered
him up into my arms. Tears sprang to my eyes when I saw the extent of his wounds.
The threads holding the shape of his perfect little round, black nose had
busted, leaving just a fuzzed out ball of yarn.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br />
My dearest friend, wounded by my own hands. I cradled him
gently to my chest, promising to take care of him, to make him whole again. But
when I showed him to my mom, she just shook her head sadly. What was done was
done, and now we both had to live with it.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br />
From that day on, our relationship changed. I was too scared
to take him on trips anymore, for fear that his fraying nose would be further
damaged. I no longer felt safe sleeping with him tangled in my arms—what if I
hurt him? So I kept him at arm’s length, making sure he could see me when I was
near, but never again dragging him on my adventures.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkCnaga8MrJ2lLe5cf-eikIvOm5zrDl9Goi9LJZ-Qp_rmPrOeGbXYMrligSb7ND_2CHtARRYURIKE118bk8JMU7e2zqAPLLUhiPl6TMDLBlYkDJfmWXBS8yMg05vjUDpZ55jILnrXiVP4J/s1600/Snoopy.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="236" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkCnaga8MrJ2lLe5cf-eikIvOm5zrDl9Goi9LJZ-Qp_rmPrOeGbXYMrligSb7ND_2CHtARRYURIKE118bk8JMU7e2zqAPLLUhiPl6TMDLBlYkDJfmWXBS8yMg05vjUDpZ55jILnrXiVP4J/s320/Snoopy.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Snoopy in his place of honor, slightly worse for the wear</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
It wasn’t long after that I realized I was growing up. By
then I was nearly ready to make the transition to middle school, and middle
schoolers didn’t play with dolls and stuffed animals.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br />
After one last summer with him looking on and me struggling
with growing into a young woman, I finally came to terms with what I had to do.
So, one late summer day when the house was quiet, I pulled Snoopy into my lap
one last time. I rubbed a hand over his matted fur, memorized the feel of it
beneath my fingers.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I carefully
adjusted his overall straps, making sure they were nice and tidy, and finally
turned him around so I could talk to him face to face.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br />
I don’t remember my exact words. Tears flowed down my
cheeks, dampening his little feet as they dripped from my jaw. I told him that
I loved him, and I always would remember him. I thanked him for being my buddy,
and for sharing my childhood with me. I was happier for having known him, and he
should be proud of that.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br />
Kissing the top of his head and the end of his ruined nose,
I carefully tucked him away in my closet, knowing that nothing would ever be
the same.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br />
Oh, the passage of time, my friends. It does seem to move
faster than we are ever prepared for, does it not? I’m just glad for the
memories that we are left with, and the small but distinct Snoopy-shaped love
in my heart that I still carry, nearly 25 years later.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br />
<b>Tell me, did you have a special friend who defined your
childhood? Or do your children now cling to their own little buddies?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Tell me I wasn’t the only one balling
my eyes out as Woody and Buzz said their final goodbyes to Andy!</b></div>
Erin Knightleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09368123673970225476noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5071542331530983118.post-71268387640587758482013-05-14T10:50:00.002-04:002013-05-14T11:02:40.443-04:00Bending Your Ear<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
Before I was a writer, I held a job as an environmental
specialist that required that I spend hours upon hours traveling from one site
to another, cooped up in a cramped truck cab, staring out on the open
road.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><br />
<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1VmcxTlItfOQUa7RkFaB74_2cNrZgZq-262woUqnZq4AH0cFFXqbGT2j9kk6zlCGRrLPJAp4Qy-sV36-GML1kCsFZyEmLciC7aPGr18VYgOAI0m-ECKBWg3zQTDJNeFQk2SmpKVp_2pw/s1600/open+road.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="212" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1VmcxTlItfOQUa7RkFaB74_2cNrZgZq-262woUqnZq4AH0cFFXqbGT2j9kk6zlCGRrLPJAp4Qy-sV36-GML1kCsFZyEmLciC7aPGr18VYgOAI0m-ECKBWg3zQTDJNeFQk2SmpKVp_2pw/s320/open+road.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Me, somewhere in Alabama :)</i></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
For most, this may sound like a form of torture.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>No one to talk to, no radio station
strong enough to withstand the miles, not even a coworker to be a warm body
beside you. But for me, it was bliss.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>The very first stop on any road trip was always the same: Cracker Barrel
for a book-on-tape and an old-fashioned candy bar.<br />
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Both of these were pure indulgence. As the caramel or
chocolate or nugget melted in my mouth, my ears tuned to the opening lines of
the book on tape, eager to begin.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>If the book was particularly good, I’d sometimes find myself sitting in
the parking lot of a motel, riveted to the narrator’s often melodic voice,
unwilling to leave the cab despite my hours glued to the driver’s seat.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I listened to hundreds of books over
the years, some good, some bad, some absolutely amazing. They were my
companions on the lonely road—the friends that shortened the miles and made
those long, hard days worth it.<br />
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjeFMxcB4lynnMAMJf5zxNsSzGEAt8gX01XVwA7D8QvzJtFQl3tNWHeRZKWHovTx6ecW4MaQPUJBXeWMo-7dFIffSvMnxqzqmZYDDvdFGQmq9sgZYNp9UYuGkDgjQSGhzNO_KRREmy8U30/s1600/MTAS+Front+cover.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjeFMxcB4lynnMAMJf5zxNsSzGEAt8gX01XVwA7D8QvzJtFQl3tNWHeRZKWHovTx6ecW4MaQPUJBXeWMo-7dFIffSvMnxqzqmZYDDvdFGQmq9sgZYNp9UYuGkDgjQSGhzNO_KRREmy8U30/s320/MTAS+Front+cover.jpg" width="197" /></a>Even now, when I rarely hit the road, I still sometimes
prefer to have a talented storyteller narrate my favorites to me. Harry Potter
just wouldn’t be the same without Jim Dale. Janet Evanovich’s Stephanie Plum
series came alive thanks to Lorelei King’s skilled interpretation. And
Stephanie Meyer’s The Host was absolutely mesmerizing thanks to Kate Reading’s
compelling narration.</div>
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<br />
So I must say, it is with GREAT excitement that I announce
my latest news: MORE THAN A STRANGER will soon be available as an <a href="http://www.amazon.com/dp/1452614598" target="_blank">audio book</a>!
The brilliant and talented Alison Larkin is lending her gorgeous voice to bring
Evie and Benedict’s story to life, and I couldn’t be more pleased :)<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
So, dear readers, keep an eye out come June 24th . . . as
for me, it looks like a road trip is in order!!<br />
<br />
Find it on <a href="http://www.amazon.com/dp/1452614598" target="_blank">Amazon</a>! <br />
<br />
<br />
<br /></div>
Erin Knightleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09368123673970225476noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5071542331530983118.post-60594317088722572002013-05-07T10:28:00.004-04:002013-05-07T10:28:41.958-04:00RT Convention Wrap up<i>**As seen on Lady Scribes today** </i><br />
<br />
Like Jane, I am absolutely exhausted after the incredible whirlwind
that is RT. My, oh my, how I wish my pre-author self could have seen the
people I would be hobnobbing with some day—I think I would have died of
squee. The best part of it all is that everyone I meet at these
conventions are all just so darn <i>nice</i>.<br />
<br />
I've
always been a bit of an introverted extrovert (make sense?), but it
wasn't until I was so beautifully accepted into the fold of the romance
community that I really became comfortable in my own skin. These women
(and men!) are so lovely and supporting, it makes it easy to walk up to
them and introduce yourself. So without further ado, here is my
convention, told in pictures in the order in which they were taken.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4HytacCpZDQSoLq3TpFvewn4RF0z9_d21_d9tuxZWVGSEW8xELi30J3ZwYq2OkvvzVHzDLSQMJdmwG23GSC7N92Aa7tvONOVeVYjYor4HUkG861uHhOdz8q3ReVfZZPEkkpb1XA9rv-nj/s1600/panel.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="176" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4HytacCpZDQSoLq3TpFvewn4RF0z9_d21_d9tuxZWVGSEW8xELi30J3ZwYq2OkvvzVHzDLSQMJdmwG23GSC7N92Aa7tvONOVeVYjYor4HUkG861uHhOdz8q3ReVfZZPEkkpb1XA9rv-nj/s320/panel.jpg" width="320" /> </a></div>
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My
very first panel!! With Elizabeth Hoyt, Laura Kinsale, (me), Eileen
Dryer, Delilah Marvelle, and Renee Bernard. It. Was. AWESOME.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnY3G6aDMuE8hUVI1_4r1QeJTaDrnFjQgZHH8RG-TJQHCe1keMLVVnBkl7ptRSQ5WTgcyZMPBMG5JbBs7YHhC7uild8NyRYD8_T95zp2fB2MuN8BYR5K7i1-_Ypq_30TEq1Z73A5HWHDyH/s1600/IMG_5199.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnY3G6aDMuE8hUVI1_4r1QeJTaDrnFjQgZHH8RG-TJQHCe1keMLVVnBkl7ptRSQ5WTgcyZMPBMG5JbBs7YHhC7uild8NyRYD8_T95zp2fB2MuN8BYR5K7i1-_Ypq_30TEq1Z73A5HWHDyH/s320/IMG_5199.jpg" width="318" /> </a></div>
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Me and my buddy, Laura Kinsale (squeak!) </div>
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The ever refined and elegant Heather Snow and me in our room before the Rosie Gulch Mixer :) </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXUhnItg-YcvNiJexhFvKL8F7E1cvZxfb0-p5lVnETsnfaY5M__OqsCN92Xk0PqIRI_LUhun1Aq974fm_lxWrUTZyBhpuy86QeE-KRgrksYya_T3PXxKKomYSBLbJfyGap-xWlBrsGr1xz/s1600/IMG_5213.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXUhnItg-YcvNiJexhFvKL8F7E1cvZxfb0-p5lVnETsnfaY5M__OqsCN92Xk0PqIRI_LUhun1Aq974fm_lxWrUTZyBhpuy86QeE-KRgrksYya_T3PXxKKomYSBLbJfyGap-xWlBrsGr1xz/s320/IMG_5213.jpg" width="320" /> </a></div>
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Out to dinner with the Lady Scribes! Julie Johnstone, Samantha Grace, moi, Jane Charles, Catherine Gayle, and Hanna Martine </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9h7uGmGIfNLjqSO8KsdAnabE0YtoIh_wmJVEdcV3bIQ7YGSJcPIOd9fdHll5wz9Aioj-_5Sdrtd2HNIo8EScHtFF7AEFmShHAnIjt5eyXnYTsRU8j3zlrOOSsljyZPeq76glba4DxAg6b/s1600/IMG_5218.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9h7uGmGIfNLjqSO8KsdAnabE0YtoIh_wmJVEdcV3bIQ7YGSJcPIOd9fdHll5wz9Aioj-_5Sdrtd2HNIo8EScHtFF7AEFmShHAnIjt5eyXnYTsRU8j3zlrOOSsljyZPeq76glba4DxAg6b/s320/IMG_5218.jpg" width="320" /> </a></div>
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Hanging in the lobby with Maire Claremont and Delilah Marvelle </div>
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Sneaking
a selfie during a nice chat with Heather, Elizabeth, Renee, Maire, and
Delilah (what? I want proof I know these talented women!)</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6_QqKMUzK2lBO-WDsGCKjJkIeuvFfG_bKoAMdR2DWJfXlkxz5mEUq21sEbF-S-kcTPR2Hr1X28d6MBp4Qh6t1rlQkXniX-zDhQFPEemb9yeHTK7s6QyWAM2H-3NU6QhjGfpy_DeZsuYuk/s1600/IMG_5222.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6_QqKMUzK2lBO-WDsGCKjJkIeuvFfG_bKoAMdR2DWJfXlkxz5mEUq21sEbF-S-kcTPR2Hr1X28d6MBp4Qh6t1rlQkXniX-zDhQFPEemb9yeHTK7s6QyWAM2H-3NU6QhjGfpy_DeZsuYuk/s320/IMG_5222.jpg" width="320" /> </a></div>
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On top of the world (make that Kansas City) with Sabrina Jeffries and Heather </div>
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Having a great chat with Tracy Brogan, Elizabeth Essex, and Ashlyn Macnamara </div>
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I'm
sitting amongst a mass of quivering fangirls for Jude Deveraux and
Julie Garwood's chat. Okay, so maybe I was quivering too ;) </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYCCD_79BmSgX8WzPfrXF3QBmKxyTLOUWzI-pfrQFLp9VK4exsA6_oplXJebcWsQm_6wQqPTQ1R1X279_v7rLvydzkUOD7_plWvNoy1EPnf6iwsDI6IRAkVkgp_VOB5yV33LS2BqiRJGp3/s1600/IMG_5255.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYCCD_79BmSgX8WzPfrXF3QBmKxyTLOUWzI-pfrQFLp9VK4exsA6_oplXJebcWsQm_6wQqPTQ1R1X279_v7rLvydzkUOD7_plWvNoy1EPnf6iwsDI6IRAkVkgp_VOB5yV33LS2BqiRJGp3/s320/IMG_5255.jpg" width="320" /> </a></div>
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MARY JO PUTNEY!! (Ahem.) </div>
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Ashlyn, Valerie Bowman, me, and Heather are up to some trouble, I'm sure.</div>
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Kimberly
Kincaid, Tracy, Sara Ramsey, and Jennifer McQuiston enjoying some
quality time at the bar. We all met as aspiring authors when we finaled
in the Golden Heart contest :) </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitiozS91y94fwzDMUzZKXu7Q8B-ze8PnAjhF9LZNdml1AUNcZVLM6v23f0uXYbdIrjkS5371x2l6Gu2IzsQShNttuNF0z17FCoP-HpvianetgAexuDsiedZGpq1n_P033nyTPE7P6gV80F/s1600/IMG_5249.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitiozS91y94fwzDMUzZKXu7Q8B-ze8PnAjhF9LZNdml1AUNcZVLM6v23f0uXYbdIrjkS5371x2l6Gu2IzsQShNttuNF0z17FCoP-HpvianetgAexuDsiedZGpq1n_P033nyTPE7P6gV80F/s320/IMG_5249.jpg" width="240" /> </a></div>
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Me and PJ Schnyder rocking the historical ball. Honestly, it takes exactly NO prodding to get me to dress up ;)</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3BEFg4t_eie9s6gzJuFCX4xzWKxOGpFa1n88olKGWQBuJfz589wrJzdAEAoYNGkibBKJs9FABvja-BrGXWHBjr9rcm9XPG9IegygUSKO2sL9obKKheuiWPFVdVAuizV4ne6Ugeoj117zL/s1600/IMG_5271.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="221" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3BEFg4t_eie9s6gzJuFCX4xzWKxOGpFa1n88olKGWQBuJfz589wrJzdAEAoYNGkibBKJs9FABvja-BrGXWHBjr9rcm9XPG9IegygUSKO2sL9obKKheuiWPFVdVAuizV4ne6Ugeoj117zL/s320/IMG_5271.jpg" width="320" /></a> </div>
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JUDE DEVERAUX!!!! (I may still be shaking following this encounter) </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbao_PbwT0vDd857L1YCaA4NdJNiud0acC4BgiIwb_eEQ1n9I82p2hRDlr4SlSZrAzpsywV_EJI-emOV_X4kqkfcX9SmmJ7ndOm9qKHuuhj8hgKdX5jcCrSMmyK7kszOnO8hmBjrJ6439Q/s1600/IMG_5279.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="212" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbao_PbwT0vDd857L1YCaA4NdJNiud0acC4BgiIwb_eEQ1n9I82p2hRDlr4SlSZrAzpsywV_EJI-emOV_X4kqkfcX9SmmJ7ndOm9qKHuuhj8hgKdX5jcCrSMmyK7kszOnO8hmBjrJ6439Q/s320/IMG_5279.jpg" width="320" /> </a></div>
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Me and my historical buddies at the Giant Book Fair: Shana Galen, Vicky Dreiling, and Kieran Kramer - what fun! </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMWh93fQH5O0KJfQ-Rk2Gpe83F6fJ9tdY_PkshhA3Cj5eeT3_ne60PIvxqU0Ru74PdqMiAJmXrAGpCt0_25m2QlPoVVjdyDOIHpgKpTWQ8ZDPMwheZ2q6qjjyuTYilycVHzySJA3FSJdLf/s1600/IMG_5294.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMWh93fQH5O0KJfQ-Rk2Gpe83F6fJ9tdY_PkshhA3Cj5eeT3_ne60PIvxqU0Ru74PdqMiAJmXrAGpCt0_25m2QlPoVVjdyDOIHpgKpTWQ8ZDPMwheZ2q6qjjyuTYilycVHzySJA3FSJdLf/s320/IMG_5294.jpg" width="223" /> </a></div>
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MARY BALOGH!!! (I think I scared her a little) </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiS3bbLVszWGJ6nRudZ61JMu_zu9NZycpT4cPyMEpH6q5ZzK9O7ufkYKoonCmqFKA1W-kwfTVwgIIVBa2FnTBklxxzPpBLcikr80LDWxZ6oUnEHQ422AP2IGYJVmZa2zLsPlXcxs7et4R87/s1600/IMG_5302.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiS3bbLVszWGJ6nRudZ61JMu_zu9NZycpT4cPyMEpH6q5ZzK9O7ufkYKoonCmqFKA1W-kwfTVwgIIVBa2FnTBklxxzPpBLcikr80LDWxZ6oUnEHQ422AP2IGYJVmZa2zLsPlXcxs7et4R87/s320/IMG_5302.jpg" width="240" /> </a></div>
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And at long last, me and Mr. Knightley on the way home after he picked me up from the airport :)</div>
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<b>So
who is your favorite author you've met? Or who would you most like to
meet? Would you be a quivering mess, or all cool and collected?</b> (Don't lie - we all know it'd be the former!) </div>
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<br />
<br />Erin Knightleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09368123673970225476noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5071542331530983118.post-4671829862867066732013-04-01T00:20:00.000-04:002013-04-01T09:30:03.278-04:00SURPRISE!!<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: large;">Did you know, dear reader, that I love you? Well I do! </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Need proof? Well, here you go:</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVqsO4PVR0Oi4Tj-KXpPsEeg0MHsv0MpdDlrOv9GjYblmIMBbEBXaILPRcZ9NDJq3Po5xxfEwu7cg8uaNOOsreB80OqLDtRPxVxRbQ81wDfA_xffKLbtzGVM9sFwAzaXEx1qUYPaTv9Ss/s1600/FINAL+Ruined+by+a+Rake+Cover+Cropped.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVqsO4PVR0Oi4Tj-KXpPsEeg0MHsv0MpdDlrOv9GjYblmIMBbEBXaILPRcZ9NDJq3Po5xxfEwu7cg8uaNOOsreB80OqLDtRPxVxRbQ81wDfA_xffKLbtzGVM9sFwAzaXEx1qUYPaTv9Ss/s640/FINAL+Ruined+by+a+Rake+Cover+Cropped.jpg" width="404" /> </a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">What's this, you ask? No, it's not an April Fool's joke<span style="font-size: large;"> <span style="font-size: large;">— <span style="font-size: large;">t</span></span></span>his is my s<b>uper secret, surprise treat just for you</b>! </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><i>RUINED BY A RAKE</i> is a novella that I whipped up purely on a whim. It is a fun, flirty read meant to fill the gap until my next novel, <i>FLIRTING WITH FORTUNE</i>, releases in September :)</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">It's available <b>right now</b> (or within the week for some of the slower e-book retailers), and the best part?</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><b><span style="color: magenta;">It's only 99 cents!! </span></b></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">So what do you say - are you excited?!<span style="font-size: large;"> I know I am! And <span style="font-size: large;">look <span style="font-size: large;">who gave it his seal of approval: </span></span></span></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSJ7Rkv8i-dDhoeY50gGo3JNDSxr0M9uX-14blmSLeTAZB5UlmEfm-YtBLQlfWiYkc3Iwao-fkWbiBx9AetnsHcFiZQHLfSNTnGDyJP-O2dSqDGi50xPvPzVBdIETRZbbt7JJEDTlU3Qg/s1600/photo.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="224" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSJ7Rkv8i-dDhoeY50gGo3JNDSxr0M9uX-14blmSLeTAZB5UlmEfm-YtBLQlfWiYkc3Iwao-fkWbiBx9AetnsHcFiZQHLfSNTnGDyJP-O2dSqDGi50xPvPzVBdIETRZbbt7JJEDTlU3Qg/s320/photo.JPG" width="320" /></a></span></div>
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">Okay<span style="font-size: large;">, not really - but <span style="font-size: large;">I like to think Mr<span style="font-size: large;">. Darcy would be quietly <span style="font-size: large;">pleased ;) </span></span></span></span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;">Now go forth and enjoy! </span></span></span></span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="color: purple;"><i>PS - <span style="font-size: large;">W<span style="font-size: large;">ant to help spread the word? <span style="font-size: large;">3 random<span style="font-size: large;"> people will win signed copies of A TASTE FOR SCANDAL on Twi<span style="font-size: large;">tter today (04/<span style="font-size: large;">01<span style="font-size: large;">/1<span style="font-size: large;">3</span>)</span></span> - all you have to do is retweet one of my tweets that have the #AprilFunDay has<span style="font-size: large;">htag. Good luck!</span></span></span></span></span></span></i></span></span></span></span></span></span> <br />
<br />
<u><b>Blurb:</b></u><br />
<span id="longdescr_full" style="display: inline;"><i>It started with a kiss.</i><br /><br />When
nine-year-old Eleanor Abbington first met her uncle’s new stepson,
Nicolas Norton, the boy rudely stole a kiss from her that set the tone
for their contentious and competitive relationship. It wasn’t until
years later when Nick introduced her to fencing that they finally had a
proper outlet for their frequent arguments. <br /><br />Having just emerged
from mourning following her mother’s death, Eleanor is exactly where she
wishes to be at the age of four-and-twenty: an on-the-shelf spinster
and unofficial companion to her aunt. Unfortunately, her ambitious uncle
has other plans for her future. On the eve of his house party, he lays
down his ultimatum: either Eleanor marries the man of his choosing, or
he'll force her seventeen-year-old sister to do so instead. <br /><br />When
Nick unexpectedly arrives on their doorstep after a two year absence,
Eleanor is in no mood for their normal banter. Seeming to know exactly
what she needs, Nick challenges her to pick up the foil once more.
During their pre-dawn matches, he shows her just how strong she can be .
. . and exactly how much he’s changed since leaving. But when her old
adversary becomes her only ally, she may very well find herself . . .
Ruined by a Rake.</span><br />
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<a href="https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/301562" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;" target="_blank"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijAUfl84RnwVsj5SAEcVCqXMT6-yjiPMQQjwGTRvwBVumgzmetSkkgbLRMPE5MPAmZ0bBoZWXUB09fye8DB06KJSFEVKD2rkeYweqGVnnwb6nph90L4Q2yDrwjfsK0WroOyu9YFCj-HPY/s1600/smashwords_button.jpg" /></a></div>
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<b><span id="longdescr_full" style="display: inline;"> </span></b><a href="http://www.amazon.com/Ruined-Rake-A-Novella-ebook/dp/B00C4CSUDG/ref=sr_1_6?ie=UTF8&qid=1364784182&sr=8-6&keywords=erin+knightley" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;" target="_blank"><img alt="" border="0" height="53" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVoV_WmGo_4mCsthE0DjvMoQzOO8Rn4TqV1AI4iLXl7Mya7RbMKbGClfbBNTYE7lrJdM7C8Qe2BBtkXWI4HtPp3Fn5IvzU0M5B1L3xn72wYwaNXzboXQG1DyCo0yWc3A3Tf3PEpI8HAfM/s200/amazon_buy_button.jpg" title="" width="200" /></a></div>
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<a href="http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/ruined-by-a-rake-a-novella-erin-knightley/1046367680?ean=2940016775593" target="_blank"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjE7oFqXHGCwSv0X7lP58lftliXDEefEjzcpO-ngOKY438tUwxSJmtI2rT_NxgD0D1e1fCk5ZG_JRksWyR8305yppjpgsl6k87PBNA3_sUrnSlyHwAGU7JjTTuuy_KNjV6-kyE1KDzVT4/s1600/images-1.jpg" /></a></div>
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<b><span id="longdescr_full" style="display: inline;"> </span><span id="longdescr_full" style="display: inline;"> iTunes version coming soon!</span></b></div>
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<u><b><span id="longdescr_full" style="display: inline;">And just because I can, here is an excerpt just for you :)</span></b></u><br />
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<span id="longdescr_full" style="display: inline;">The swishing of razor thin metal through cool air soothed Eleanor in much the way harp music calmed the music lover, or fine wine pleased the connoisseur. In the early morning gloom, damp fog was her cover, the dim promise of sunrise her only light. She moved forward swiftly, danced backwards, and thrust again. Nothing but mist met her blade, though she couldn’t help but imagine her uncle’s chest at the end of her buttoned tip.<br /><br />“Your form is terrible, cousin.”<br /><br />Eleanor gasped at the sudden pronouncement, and swung around, her rapier extended. Nicolas’s smiling face was inches from her blade. He didn’t even have the decency to flinch, drat the man. “Even my worst form would be miles better than yours.”<br /><br />Leaning back against the crumbing ruins of the old abbey wall, he nodded solemnly. “I agree wholeheartedly. Unless, of course, we are speaking of fencing. If that is the case, allow me to clear up your misconceptions.”<br /><br />She didn’t relax. The way she was feeling this morning, she could happily take her meddling step-cousin’s head right off. “Sounds like a challenge to me. Have you come prepared?”<br /><br />Though they used to meet frequently for these clandestine matches, it had been over two years since their last one. As much as he was a thorn in her side, she would be forever grateful to him for teaching her the sport. It had started as a lark, but had quickly evolved to their favorite form of communication, taking their verbal sparring and converting it into proper duals.<br /><br />Stepping back, he whipped his own sword up to clang against hers, making an X of the two weapons. “But of course. I wouldn’t dare meet anyone at dawn unarmed, least of all you, dear Ellie.”<br /><br />She rolled her eyes, sending a brief glance heavenward before meeting his gaze. His amused gaze. Of course. Everything was a game to him.<br /><br />“En guard,” she commanded, planting her feet more firmly and extending her left hand behind her for balance. “And don’t call me Ellie.”<br /><br />“As you wish, my sweet.” He paused for a moment, pursing his lips, then backed up a step. “By the way, I’m very sorry about your mother. I know I said as much in my letter, but it was a damn shame.”<br /><br />She blinked, taken aback by his quiet words. Sincere words. Leave it to Nick to throw her off kilter. She swallowed against the sadness that rose from deep within her, letting her gaze fall to the rocky ground. “Thank you,” she said, nodding twice before looking back up. “I’m very glad to have Aunt Margaret, at least.”<br /><br />She smiled tightly, willing him to move on from the topic. This gentle side of him she kept catching glimpses of unnerved her. She didn’t quite know what to make of the changes she saw in him.<br /><br />As if sensing her desire, he repositioned his blade, tapping it lightly against hers. “Shall we?”<br /><br />“Do you think you can keep up?” she asked, lifting a brow in challenge.<br /><br />Below his morning scruff, his lips curled in his signature grin. She let out a relieved breath—they were back on familiar ground. He knew it drove her mad when he gave her that self-satisfied smile, which meant he was rarely without it. “Now, do try to be nice. It’s been weeks since I’ve had a proper match.”<br /><br />Before the last word had even left his mouth, she lunged forward, going straight for his gut. He flitted backwards, parrying her move and striking forward with one of his own. His foil slapped against her right shoulder.<br /><br />She gritted her teeth, not so much against the sting of the hit as the sting to her pride. He was toying with her, damn him. “Two years in the militia and that’s all you’ve got?” She tsked as they both got back into position. After the awfulness that was last night’s dinner, this was exactly what she needed.<br /><br />“Taking it easy on an old gal like you.”<br /><br />“Old gal? I’m all of two years older than you, thank you very much.” She engaged him once more, darting forth with lightning speed and poking his ribs with a sound thump.<br /><br />“Ow,” he laughed, slapping her foil away with his own. “Careful, that’s tender young flesh. You’ve likely forgotten how delicate youthful skin can be.”<br /><br />She bit her bottom lip to keep from grinning. He was always such a pest. For that little quip, he earned himself a slap across his gloved hand. “Sorry, did that hurt? You’re right; I can hardly remember what such a hit feels like. Though it’s less from my advanced age and more from a lack of a proper opponent.”<br /><br />“Ah, you’ve missed me. Should I come home more often then? Clearly you are in want of my company if it is a proper opponent you seek.” </span>Erin Knightleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09368123673970225476noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5071542331530983118.post-53137498063770624572013-03-12T11:48:00.002-04:002013-03-12T11:48:26.644-04:00Into the Wormhole<div class="MsoNormal">
<i>As seen on LadyScribes today</i> <br />
<br />
So, some of you may have heard earlier this week that the
earth tilted on its axis. Although I am a scientist by training, I will do my
best to explain the root cause for this rather unexpected phenomenon in a way
that any layman can understand.</div>
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You see, it all started with a Facebook post. Observe,
Exhibit A:</div>
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<b>“That moment, when you suddenly realize that Ralph Macchio
is now the same age as Mr. Miyagi in The Karate Kid.”</b></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7D2FCSWBVdsmIUshrh5KR3PRVBaURbUN_vNzAo0wPDIfbIMMw5d33RbKRlsaO3k6OSl234l5Fqog0pOtuUMtPJPQI4DvIvcIvL32GuUf43UBZyf8oeyV9dfE3_LYOp9ToIEehycgDTxEq/s1600/Shocked+woman.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7D2FCSWBVdsmIUshrh5KR3PRVBaURbUN_vNzAo0wPDIfbIMMw5d33RbKRlsaO3k6OSl234l5Fqog0pOtuUMtPJPQI4DvIvcIvL32GuUf43UBZyf8oeyV9dfE3_LYOp9ToIEehycgDTxEq/s320/Shocked+woman.jpg" width="213" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Whhhaaaa???</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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I’ll pause here for those of you who are hearing this bit of
news for the first time.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">*Folds hands and waits patiently* </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">*discretely hands over a box of Kleenex*</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">Better
now? No? Well, ME NEITHER!! What in the name of all that's sacred in
this world is going on? Surely we have just stumbled upon some sort of
freak tear in the time/space continuum, which has caused this wholly
premature turn of events. Surely, SURELY the kid who stole no less than
half the hearts of Gen-Xers (the other half belonging to men) is not
older than Steve Carell is now, or worse, older than Rue MeClanahan was
when she first appeared on Golden Girls. THE GOLDEN GIRLS!</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><br />I
gotta be honest—I'm not handling this well. It's not that I think 51 is
old—50's are the new 30's!—it's just that I can't possibly reconcile
the fact that so much time has elapsed since he was going all
flamingo-like on the bow of the boat, or resentfully waxing-on,
waxing-off the lot full of old cars in Mr. Miyogi's backyard. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">You
know, it's like that moment when you realize your friend's kid is old
enough to drive, or your nephew is now tall enough to look down on you
when you're standing side by side. Time, it just keeps marching on, does
it not?</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">So,
after the earth tilted and we all scrambled to reorient ourselves in a
world where Mr. Miyagi is about to be Daniel-san's junior, I sat back
and consoled myself with these three things:</span></div>
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<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">1) The movie will always transport me back in time when I need a hit of nostalgia</span></div>
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<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">2) My present is pretty darn awesome. I'm happy with the way I filled the intervening years</span></div>
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<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">3) Ralph Macchio is still pretty darn adorable</span></div>
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<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">Now, should any of these fail to be true sometime in the future, I'm sure you'll hear from me again. Fair warning ;) </span></div>
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<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">So
tell me, who was your teen heartthrob? Did you ever have a moment when
you realized he wasn't the young hunk you one fell in love with?</span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">Now, I leave you with these wise, wise words: </span><br />
<i>Man who catch fly with chopstick accomplish anything. </i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
*nods sagely*<i><br /></i></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjOSjnnsjDaY379Dp5M8gTHCFSbl-TeDLUNRmAOzjis2opS-2Ufru7qoTf8gA1AF_6LM2OZDKOjpwAbuxoUSZHV-9wBkJnTa32EJe96mFRsWgdvgHThXbhuePzMsSlW-qSGqzzELCBZ8av/s1600/chopsticks.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjOSjnnsjDaY379Dp5M8gTHCFSbl-TeDLUNRmAOzjis2opS-2Ufru7qoTf8gA1AF_6LM2OZDKOjpwAbuxoUSZHV-9wBkJnTa32EJe96mFRsWgdvgHThXbhuePzMsSlW-qSGqzzELCBZ8av/s320/chopsticks.jpg" width="240" /></a></div>
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</div>
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<br /></div>
<br />Erin Knightleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09368123673970225476noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5071542331530983118.post-35960873068394063842013-02-12T00:50:00.000-05:002013-02-12T00:50:13.548-05:00Valentine's Nay<i>As seen on Lady Scribes today</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I have a confession to make.<br />
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
It’s kinda embarrassing, what with me being a romance writer
and all. And a romance reader. And sappy-movie lover. And a part time worker in
a jewelry store where love seems to always be in the air.<br />
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Okay. Here it is. *breathes deeply*<br />
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I hate Valentine’s Day.<br />
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
*Cringes, waiting for startled gasps and accusing
stares*<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I know, I know, it doesn’t
seem to make sense. Why would a lover of all things having to do with love feel
so strongly in the negative about a day devoted to love? </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br />
Honestly, I think it started in middle school, when people
could buy carnations to be handed out to their sweethearts throughout the day.
Every time the door opened in class, and the designated delivery person would
prance in and hand out flowers to a handful of ‘lucky’ recipients, I would look
on anxiously, dreading people getting their feelings hurt when they were left
empty handed.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIW5JbWQfL0sD_xBgx1GK4bebNkxZGJrTXK6IWvGvIJ0_Zk5NCBY6bSAUUhXhgy4D2hgMvt4gegbHOKgQUfUFv8rSuBPgRVkwEI8Wde_XJv2FocvDdZxwyP3Lrhxm9VMTXAGMfCbdnmdGJ/s1600/conversation+hearts.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIW5JbWQfL0sD_xBgx1GK4bebNkxZGJrTXK6IWvGvIJ0_Zk5NCBY6bSAUUhXhgy4D2hgMvt4gegbHOKgQUfUFv8rSuBPgRVkwEI8Wde_XJv2FocvDdZxwyP3Lrhxm9VMTXAGMfCbdnmdGJ/s320/conversation+hearts.jpg" width="320" /></a><br />
On the years that I received a flower, I was almost always
embarrassed. On the years that I didn’t, I was left with an odd feeling of
shame, as if I somehow wasn’t good enough or no one liked me.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>No matter what, it was a no win
situation, and I wanted nothing more than for the day to go away, and for
people to be free to express their like or love in their own time, in their own
way.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br />
The problem, I suppose, is that it is just feels so
manufactured. Walk into any store and you will see a proliferation of red and
pink boxes, stuffed animals, cards, fake roses, lingerie, plastic hearts, goofy
ties, cheap trinkets, and just about anything else that would hold the red dye.
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br />
Is there anything wrong with giving each other these little
baubles? Certainly not, especially if it makes people happy.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br />
But for me, it rankles that this is the day that someone
else decided I must show or be shown love. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It
goes against the way I like to think of love: something
that is a constant presence in life. I want my loved ones to show love
when
they decide, not when it is decreed that they do so. I must be the only
woman on earth who forbids her husband to get her anything on
Valentine's day! I much prefer he surprise me on a random Tuesday, just
because he was thinking of me.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br />
I guess that’s one of the reasons I love romance novels so
much. The love is there, everyday, available to anyone and everyone that wishes
to enjoy it. If you are already in love, it reminds you of how great a thing it
is, not to be taken for granted. If you are still waiting for the right person
to come along, it fills the heart in more ways than one—allowing you to
experience the characters’ love right along with them, and indulging one’s
sense of optimism for when the day comes that love does find you.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br />
So
there you have it. My shocking secret, outed for all the world to see
and judge. So what do you think – am I a certified old fuddy-duddy? <b>Who out there loves V-day,
and who is happy to let the day slide by unnoticed</b>? <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br />
(Though I will admit, I do love shopping the clearance racks
for chocolate and candy the day after. What? It’s not Valentine’s Day goodies
anymore—it’s just cheap red and pink candy! ;-) )</div>
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<br /></div>
Erin Knightleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09368123673970225476noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5071542331530983118.post-71798010655855363662013-01-15T00:11:00.000-05:002013-01-15T12:05:09.791-05:00A Picture's Worth a Thousand Words..or is it??<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<i>As seen on the <a href="http://www.ladyscribes.blogspot.com/2013/01/a-pictures-worth-thousand-wordsor-is-it.html" target="_blank">Lady Scribes blog</a> today</i></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Ah, photographs.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Isn’t it amazing how easy it is to capture a moment in time? For years
and years we can look back at our happy, smiling faces and remember what an
amazing time we were having.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
After all, a picture is worth a thousand words, right?
Although…no one ever said those words weren’t bald faced lies.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Allow me to demonstrate.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The week after Christmas, my hubby and I went to Colorado
with my mom and dad to enjoy our first taste of the Rockies.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Along the way, we snapped tons of
photos. Let us see what the photo *seemed* to be saying, and what was actually
happening.</div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<u>Exhibit One: Dogsledding</u></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
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See the big smiles? The goofy grins? The adorable dogs? </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_iWhjHBSnIS2pKtJ9qw3E6VngQvDb2TDXiLfRLGu79h5o-d2j8Xh9iuk4coC7dBCwBvFsPJ3KUQ0Oh0y7wocTP_z7ujFd6BTEWkFVAgAmnBATPVXruIx5RQ_adV1SSk0tRvG-jk2sAP8o/s1600/PC270046.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_iWhjHBSnIS2pKtJ9qw3E6VngQvDb2TDXiLfRLGu79h5o-d2j8Xh9iuk4coC7dBCwBvFsPJ3KUQ0Oh0y7wocTP_z7ujFd6BTEWkFVAgAmnBATPVXruIx5RQ_adV1SSk0tRvG-jk2sAP8o/s320/PC270046.jpg" width="238" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfJh_e8eSWywJ43-O1hfJvmKv37WUDZ0WxxjPDwlVX2B7OKhLuY5NB5mhemVgzuPdcu_JmxH6vWCQTKhoNW1qIcGhqSUYlTBQ-injZNrSoUbnvzW5wl2O0k7Ti_Eqxw4oPkXoqhZSlUsxc/s1600/IMG_4333.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfJh_e8eSWywJ43-O1hfJvmKv37WUDZ0WxxjPDwlVX2B7OKhLuY5NB5mhemVgzuPdcu_JmxH6vWCQTKhoNW1qIcGhqSUYlTBQ-injZNrSoUbnvzW5wl2O0k7Ti_Eqxw4oPkXoqhZSlUsxc/s320/IMG_4333.jpg" width="240" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Yeah…look closer and you might just see the icicles hanging
from my nose, lol. It was <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">freezing!</i>
And I don’t mean ‘throw another log on the fire’ freezing. Oh no – I mean ‘start
looking for a dead tauntaun and a light-saber’ cold. Not only am I periodically
doing checks of my nose and cheeks to make sure they are indeed still there,
but I’m avoiding all liquids despite the altitude due to the fact I’m wearing
17 layers of clothes and the only ‘conveniences’ is a frozen solid block of
port-o-pots where I am afraid of recreating the famous scene from A Christmas
Story, only substituting my hiney instead of Flick’s tongue and a toilet seat
in place of the flagpole.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<u>Exhibit Two: Snowmobiling</u></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
What could be more delightful than snowmobiling across the
continental divide? When the concierge set this up, she assured me, my hubby,
and my soon to be 65 year old dad that we would have a looovely tour.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And just look at these pictures!
Majestic mountains, gorgeous blue skies, powdery snow—what more can you ask
for?</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3qvHjwf6o0F9m2JJ9C85zjsXuqqUIkUwKEzNQPtTcMsJeeAdyQsICbuuQs3HknrG9xi-wuQ4gOl0fPoZ520e0R5qxHUFETJPq2kDVRib_V4SjQ3mHk7ig5_W07ugsUQnIhV3cJUP0Wo16/s1600/IMG_4401.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3qvHjwf6o0F9m2JJ9C85zjsXuqqUIkUwKEzNQPtTcMsJeeAdyQsICbuuQs3HknrG9xi-wuQ4gOl0fPoZ520e0R5qxHUFETJPq2kDVRib_V4SjQ3mHk7ig5_W07ugsUQnIhV3cJUP0Wo16/s320/IMG_4401.jpg" width="239" /></a> </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAEIEei0-IaxDV-bbAXYbGVv6ToCX_3AFym3Xc-avRXHpkavIHLTZQ53m5TH43te6IjJ0RWob-tbiCQH6uumTajMlzMXW1Kv0U2n_dz4SfNEA0N39YJIum510SjxZGEHgTkmjZ62SF8imM/s1600/IMG_4408.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="239" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAEIEei0-IaxDV-bbAXYbGVv6ToCX_3AFym3Xc-avRXHpkavIHLTZQ53m5TH43te6IjJ0RWob-tbiCQH6uumTajMlzMXW1Kv0U2n_dz4SfNEA0N39YJIum510SjxZGEHgTkmjZ62SF8imM/s320/IMG_4408.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Oh dear lord—thank heavens for these pictures, because those
precious few moments were the only time in the entire 2 hour tour that I wasn’t
hanging on for dear life as the guide held the pace at 50 miles per hour
(literally), tearing through the mountainous terrain like a bat out of you know
where, all the while hollering warnings over his shoulder to ‘turn with your
bodies!’ so not to flip the death, I mean <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">snow</i>
mobile over on the hairpin turns. The only thing I saw on this trip (besides my
life flashing before my eyes) was my hubby’s back and the green and white blur
of the forest zooming by in the periphery. Scenes from “What About Bob” can’t
help but come to mind as I scream across the tundra, holding on for dear life
and yelling “I’m on vacation!” into the howling wind. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
By the time we were done, I felt like I had been tossed in a
bouncy castle with 40 five year olds hopped up on Kool-Aid and birthday cake.
Toss in the fun factor of certain death if we miss-steered and the lovely,
ever-present exhaust fumes and you have a day that was MADE of win.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Yes, that was sarcasm.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Oddly enough, my hubby had the time of his life on this excursion,
laughing as my dad and I clung to each other and wept with relief when it was
over.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Oh, and side-note—I’m
totally using that picture in our next Christmas card to brag about the fab
vacation we had ;)</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<u>Exhibit Three: Skiing</u></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Ah, the idyllic pastime of the wealthy. So chic, so
fabulous, so ‘Lifestyles of the Rich and Famous.’ Notice the gorgeous weather
and picturesque, snow-covered slopes behind us. Surely hot chocolate and cavier
are waiting for us beside the cheery fire in the lodge, no?</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhATgSzc0Wf2X5inznhhdU04X4wXaKIQ34HFJZ_gdj7CMWwQ8wc5_c7-zVg0OfLU-LFdctSzZlK2XyTbVJ1xZw3FSu-cAt2chX1oPau0U3reh6uXJ-HGBrrl6pThZMht9mSzqiMcKUT_ioT/s1600/IMG_4432.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhATgSzc0Wf2X5inznhhdU04X4wXaKIQ34HFJZ_gdj7CMWwQ8wc5_c7-zVg0OfLU-LFdctSzZlK2XyTbVJ1xZw3FSu-cAt2chX1oPau0U3reh6uXJ-HGBrrl6pThZMht9mSzqiMcKUT_ioT/s320/IMG_4432.jpg" width="239" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
NO. God no. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I
think ski boots were originally invented by the military as a torture device
designed to mimic the yoga chair pose for hours on end, leaving one to wonder
if, in fact, muscles actually <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">can</i>
turn to jelly. Or molton lava. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Then someone said ‘Hey! Let’s strap a pair of waxed sticks to
these babies and throw ourselves down the side of a mountain!’ Then someone
else said, “Why don’t we have a thousand other people on the slopes with us, so
we can add in evasive maneuvers and on-the-fly physics calculations to spice up
the day?” And then someone <i>else</i> said, “But wait! Lets put mortally wounded
people on stretchers and have them be continually taken down the mountain, so
everyone can see exactly how death-defying their recreation of choice is!”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Yay! Thanks guys – you know how to make for an <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">awesome</i> day of near-death experiences. And
here’s the real trick: Someone figured out how to get you to drop hundreds of
dollars on rental equipment and lift tickets, and still manage to get you to
pay $15 on two hotdogs. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
So there you have
it—pictures may very well be worth a thousand words, but in my
experience, those words are all LIES. But you know what? I find I'm okay
with that, lol. Because when I'm old and grey, I want to be able to
look back on these serene pictures and reminisce about what a lovely
trip we had to Colorado that one year, shaking my head as I wonder why
it was I never went back. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b>Now tell me, do you have lying pictures from your vacations
too? Or have you ever done something you were stoked about, only to have it
turn out to be waaaay different than you imagine?</b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
(I feel I should point out that I really did have a
wonderful time, especially since I was able to spend such quality time with my
parents. But me and Colorado? We’ve met, shaken hands, and parted ways. That goes for extreme sports, too! ;) )</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
PS: If you’d like to see the one picture that is one hundred
percent accurate representation of how I felt at that exact moment, here you
go:<br />
<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNVQCdKUPtw1IRXJJJafnD2DmPfH1e5m3iSGuMFQVVYpweSkrijb2YOF2OFJR2JMx0VoTl1slAYpvIuaCQmsHH5l1nvthTV5sFcbdMxL99TghLUCQ7f9kga-byUicq7jPRiPqXZMsQdx5b/s1600/PC300091.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNVQCdKUPtw1IRXJJJafnD2DmPfH1e5m3iSGuMFQVVYpweSkrijb2YOF2OFJR2JMx0VoTl1slAYpvIuaCQmsHH5l1nvthTV5sFcbdMxL99TghLUCQ7f9kga-byUicq7jPRiPqXZMsQdx5b/s320/PC300091.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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Erin Knightleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09368123673970225476noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5071542331530983118.post-11088824149880981182013-01-09T00:21:00.000-05:002013-01-09T00:21:21.090-05:00Power of Love
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I have been asked many a time throughout the past few years
why I write romance. Why the fluff and bodice ripping (yes, people actually say
that)—why not write something more true to life? Why not write a literary
masterpiece that is thought-provoking and haunting? Or a mainstream fiction a
la Vince Flynn and Dan Brown? </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJPsRUpidkG76lc3u2T-OrYQmhWXJ2nd6FZEc2NPGAWgsz_chH8wj2HM1RGiMsYcZ6T2rcWmJMkXTLJsLR7arRIMjAjC2k61a8ErxE-atqEu_Vo5cYKCT5zRM6Vzd3k11QzrccLHi5-5c/s1600/pages+heart.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="202" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJPsRUpidkG76lc3u2T-OrYQmhWXJ2nd6FZEc2NPGAWgsz_chH8wj2HM1RGiMsYcZ6T2rcWmJMkXTLJsLR7arRIMjAjC2k61a8ErxE-atqEu_Vo5cYKCT5zRM6Vzd3k11QzrccLHi5-5c/s320/pages+heart.jpg" width="320" /></a>Truly, the answer is simple: I love love.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>When I read, I do so to escape to a <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">better</i> place, not one rife with the bad
or depressing things of this world. I’m not pretending it’s not there (well,
maybe a little), and I’m certainly not saying there is anything wrong with
writing books that cover those parts of life, but for me, I want people to feel
better when the finish the book than they did when they started.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Is that silly? Some people may say yes. But I think bringing
a little light into a pretty dark world is a <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">good</i> thing. If I can make one person sigh with happiness, or
believe in love, or read ‘the end’ with a big smile on their face, then I have
succeeded.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Truly, I don’t care how other people measure success—for me,
that’s it. A happy review, a heartfelt email, a Facebook post filled with
smiley faces—those are the measuring sticks I pay attention to.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And to all of you who have reached out
to me in <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>these ways or any other,
let me just say now, thank you from the bottom of my heart :) </div>
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So, before anyone poo-poos romance and its roll in society,
I hope they’ll pick one up someday.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Remember what its like to feel the first blush of love, to meet
someone’s eyes for the first time, to yearn for that first kiss, and to hope
for a happily ever after. </div>
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Because, my dear reader, we all deserve an HEA, one way or
another :)</div>
Erin Knightleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09368123673970225476noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5071542331530983118.post-43079526618378601222012-12-18T00:00:00.000-05:002012-12-18T00:00:06.380-05:00Disconnecting from Overconnection
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<br />
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**As seen on LadyScribes today** </div>
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<br /></div>
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Ahhh – the internet.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>That great nameless, faceless void in the sky that simultaneously keeps
us all connected while keeping us apart.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>It is almost impossible to assimilate the fact that children born in the
last decade have never known a world without this sort of technology. </div>
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And really, not just the internet. Cell phones have
completely revolutionized the world as we know it. In many, many senses, that
is a great thing. No more being stranded on the side of the road, hoping a
stranger will stop and help. No more wondering if you need to buy milk, or if
there is already some at the house. No more angst about whether a loved one is
alright when they are a bit late. For this worrywart, those are all good
things.</div>
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But in my opinion, we will never again have a true notion of
solitude. We are connected to the rest of the world in a way that goes beyond a
healthy relationship, into the obsessive, all up in each other’s business sort
of way, where you are never alone.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>People can’t even end a conversation before going to the bathroom! (Oh,
don’t get me started on <a href="http://haveyourcakeandreadittoo.blogspot.com/2012/02/oh-no-she-didnt.html">that</a>).
I think the result is, we have forgotten how to be <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">alone</i>. How to be quite, and still, and patient.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
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With our smartphones in our hands, we have the internet,
games, messaging, email—enough instant entertainment to keep a person occupied
for decades.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Do we even remember
the days when waiting in the doctor’s office meant exactly that—waiting? Or
when we left the house, and we wouldn’t know who called until later that
evening, when the red light was blinking on the answering machine?</div>
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When I think of life before cell phones, I think of the
bliss of living in the moment. Multi-tasking was rubbing your belly while patting
your head (which actually works out better than juggling emails, writing, and all
the other tasks we try to cram into the same moment in time), and messaging was
sitting down to write a letter using pen, paper, and *gasp* cursive.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>There was no glow of electronic screens
constantly bathing my face, no pings and beeps and wooshing punctuating the
day. </div>
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Yes, I was young and with less responsibilities, but I know
life was slower for everyone back then. And quieter. And less chaotic.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I realized recently that my cell phone
is almost never out of my sight. Ever. It’s the last thing I look at before I
go to bed, the first thing when I wake up, and my constant companion as I
navigate the 50 million tasks of the day.</div>
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And you know what? I don’t like that anymore.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I’ve decided that I <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">want</i> to be out of contact a bit. I want
to walk away from that siren device, cutting the invisible string that ties
us.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I want to be unavailable for a
few hours, and out of touch on occasion.</div>
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I want to remember what solitude feels like. Not
loneliness—just privacy. Holding a few things to myself instead of sharing so
much on a constant basis. I want to have something to talk about with friends
when I see them that they haven’t already read on my Facebook page or on
Twitter.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I miss sharing good news
in person—don’t you?</div>
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So, for a little while, I’m going to try to take a step
back. I’m going to leave my cell phone on the kitchen hours and walk away when
I’m in the house. I’m going to turn off the notifications, choosing instead to
check on things in my own time.</div>
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Who knows—maybe I’ll relearn what it feels like to <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">not</i> instantly know what tomorrow’s
weather is, or when Genghis Khan roamed, or how many movies Clint Eastwood has
directed. Crazy, huh?</div>
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<br /></div>
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So tell me—how attached are you to your cell phone? Are you
ever more than a stones’ throw from it? Do you remember what it was like before
they were invented?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I’ll warn you
in advance that I’m working the day job today during the Christmas rush, so I
won’t get back here until this evening. Fitting, no? ;)</div>
Erin Knightleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09368123673970225476noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5071542331530983118.post-34323273594210929922012-12-11T14:10:00.001-05:002012-12-11T14:10:34.082-05:00Learning to be Gracious
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This weekend, I had the honor of signing beside
Nora Roberts at her husband’s book store in Boonsboro, Maryland – Turn the
Page. In all, there were about eight authors present for a signing that was
meant to be from noon to 2pm. I say ‘meant’ because we stayed until after 4:30,
when the last person waiting in line finally got her books signed and left.</div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhe6s2phNsBq3FA-KA0EFcO9ZmbRnamRIPYpn0bb7wdR_b1y5JUTkyejqgEoXL0KEZWs3jkAxLWIUbvpeBo1NM6G432GvXyWhS8DSeZ8K-ZfwGurJRAXSIc9OCuYPHLFKDZED_JgeSGlj8/s1600/Nora+signing+7.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhe6s2phNsBq3FA-KA0EFcO9ZmbRnamRIPYpn0bb7wdR_b1y5JUTkyejqgEoXL0KEZWs3jkAxLWIUbvpeBo1NM6G432GvXyWhS8DSeZ8K-ZfwGurJRAXSIc9OCuYPHLFKDZED_JgeSGlj8/s320/Nora+signing+7.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Just look at all those people! That line was steady for 4.5 hours!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<br /></div>
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For me, an author who is still learning the ropes, I
couldn’t ask for a better role model than Nora.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Even though she was feeling under the weather, she was there
early, dressed to the nines and looking fabulous. She sat there for the entire
4 and a half hours, only getting up once for a very short break.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She smiled at each and every fan,
patiently signed their stacks of books, and posed with a bright smile with absolutely
everyone who asked. </div>
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Y’all, Nora is a super star. She definitely didn’t have to
do the signing. Yes, it was wonderful for her family’s business, but truly she
could never write another book again and still enjoy a successful career. But
she did it because she seems to genuinely love and respect her fans. It’s that
respect that made an impression.</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVaR5UeFiKZ6hUBb2PXUFOZucjcseOrhQ17yrvDR2WWbAPsmfQx1guiJlpa3Jt8zRrxekRAosMJ74dQbZxxOP_1y1tHZL2GkUTVsFsK4ixMmO9Uf3fRjui2IkFWpG6VR9Yup5fgJSUzy8/s1600/Nora+Signing+3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVaR5UeFiKZ6hUBb2PXUFOZucjcseOrhQ17yrvDR2WWbAPsmfQx1guiJlpa3Jt8zRrxekRAosMJ74dQbZxxOP_1y1tHZL2GkUTVsFsK4ixMmO9Uf3fRjui2IkFWpG6VR9Yup5fgJSUzy8/s320/Nora+Signing+3.jpg" width="220" /></a></div>
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<br /></div>
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And Nora isn’t the only example of graciousness in my
business. There is <a href="http://www.sabrinajeffries.com/">Sabrina Jeffries</a>,
who always makes time for fans and fellow authors alike. Even before we became
friends, she was happy to offer up her knowledge of the business to us newbies
in hopes of helping her fellow writer get ahead. She is incredibly busy, yet
she took the time to write a cover quote for me. That’s a big deal, and it is a
kindness I will never forget.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
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There is also another author, who shall remain nameless
(since I don’t want her inundated with requests!) who went way above and beyond
for me. My friend was turning 40, and this author was her very favorite. When I
appealed to her for a signed book for her birthday, offering to send the book
or money, the author instead sent a big package including several signed books
for my friend, an actual birthday card, and even a few signed books for me! I
mean, how incredibly generous and awesome is that?</div>
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I’m so blessed to have these incredible women as role
models. It is my hope to emulate them in their graciousness, kindness, and even
their work ethic. I hope to always give my readers a warm fuzzy so they know
just how important they are to me. I am grateful for each and every one of you! Just as a reminder, I am always happy to send a free signed
bookmark and swag to my fans – just email a request to <a href="mailto:erin@erinknightley.com">erin@erinknightley.com</a>.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
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And if you, as a reader, ever want to give back to your
favorite authors, I hope that you will take a moment to post a nice review or
tell your friends about them. Spreading the word is the very best thing you
can do for the authors you love :-)</div>
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So tell me—who has been a role model to you (no matter what
you do in life)? A teacher? A parent? A fellow coworker?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
Erin Knightleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09368123673970225476noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5071542331530983118.post-76840849916946420412012-12-04T00:17:00.002-05:002012-12-04T08:22:47.098-05:00A Taste for Scandal... and Chocolate Puffs!<i>As seen on <a href="http://ladyscribes.blogspot.com/2012/12/a-little-taste-of-regency.html" target="_blank">Lady Scribes</a> today</i><br />
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjsrrnkHy1c6e8mTxNALThcPOjKfnfEqhAUWvY1tgmjaupDzLpinIrrxg1V1kaxjnJhW28-6YNPQtytL4tw60qofBxge5hUPKgrXIKkDjg8CaREnEBqnfhtQC5F5oPH_sLyOtOOKKMA_HIN/s1600/ATFS+Cover.jpg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjsrrnkHy1c6e8mTxNALThcPOjKfnfEqhAUWvY1tgmjaupDzLpinIrrxg1V1kaxjnJhW28-6YNPQtytL4tw60qofBxge5hUPKgrXIKkDjg8CaREnEBqnfhtQC5F5oPH_sLyOtOOKKMA_HIN/s320/ATFS+Cover.jpg" width="198" /></a>Psst. Hey you.</div>
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Yes, you—the one staring at the computer screen.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Do you know what today is?</div>
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<br />
<span style="background-color: white;"><span style="color: #741b47;">It’s Release Day for <b>A TASTE FOR SCANDAL</b>!</span></span></div>
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<br />
And
as thrilled as I am to have my 2nd book finally available, I am
determined to celebrate in as genteel a fashion as possible. You see, in
the six months since my debut, I have matured leaps and
bounds as an author, in more ways than one.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I mean, you’ll no longer find me <a href="http://www.ladyscribes.blogspot.com/2012/06/erin-knightleys-debut-release-day.html">running
through the aisles</a> of a certain large bookstore, dancing like a fool.</div>
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<br />
Oh no, this time around, I shall be all that is
graceful and refined.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><br />
<br />
With that in
mind, I have created a little video for your viewing pleasure. In it, I’ll show
you a super quick and oh-so easy recipe that I found while researching late eighteenth and
early nineteenth century cookbooks.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
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<br />
This particular recipe happens to be special, since it is
the very first one that my baker heroine teaches her rakish earl hero. (PS – I
didn’t set out to write a Regency foodie romance, but somehow that’s exactly
what happened!)</div>
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<br />
So, from the Duchess of Delight, Her Grace Erin Knightley (who steadfastly promises <i>not</i> to make a cake of herself), I
hope you enjoy:</div>
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<br /></div>
<iframe allowfullscreen="allowfullscreen" frameborder="0" height="315" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/yV5alF1vbqQ" width="560"></iframe>
<br />
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<br />
(Okay, so maybe I make a <i>bit</i> of a cake of myself after all, lol)<br />
<br />
<b>Now, don't forget to enter my Historical Romance Palooza giveaway!! 36 signed books from all different authors are waiting for their new home ;) Click <a href="http://haveyourcakeandreadittoo.blogspot.com/p/i-am-beyond-excited-to-kick-off-release.html" target="_blank">HERE</a>!</b><br />
<br /></div>
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<span style="font-size: xx-small;"> <a href="http://www.amazon.com/Taste-For-Scandal-Sealed-ebook/dp/B0090UMLRG/ref=sr_1_1?s=digital-text&ie=UTF8&qid=1354597200&sr=1-1&keywords=a+taste+for+scandal" target="_blank">Amazon</a> | <a href="http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/a-taste-for-scandal-erin-knightley/1111394716?ean=9780451413475" target="_blank">Barnes & Noble</a> | <a href="http://www.walmart.com/ip/19895131?findingMethod=Recommendation:wm:RecentlyViewedItems" target="_blank">Walmart</a> | <a href="https://itunes.apple.com/us/book/a-taste-for-scandal/id555159367?mt=11" target="_blank">iTunes</a></span></div>
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<br /></div>
Erin Knightleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09368123673970225476noreply@blogger.com4