For those of you who know me, you’re used to seeing me blog about my hotter reads like the Identity series and my BDSM or ménage stand-alone titles, but for the past few days I’ve been out and about the blogging circuit resurrecting my roots. My writing roots that is, the ones which started out in the more sensual side of the house and sort of sprouted a few sprigs here and there which eventually led to hotter and hotter and hotter titles.
The Slower Lower series was in fact my first series of books and book one, A Slower Lower Love, was actually only my third title to hit the e-shelves. In fact, it was a stand-alone in its humble beginnings until E (editor extraordinaire) emailed me one day after an initial read and said, “We need to talk.” **cue heart racing and cold sweat**
It turned out okay though because we needed to talk about the potential she saw in my characters and she wanted to see more and suggested I turn the whole thing into a series…thus the Slower Lower series was born.
Now, I’m sure at this point you’re wondering just what in a blue moon that has to do with chickens. Gather round kids…do I have a tale to tell you…
Way back in 1996, only a few short weeks after I’d met the love of my life and future life mate, I made the decision to road trip with the man I barely knew all the way from Missouri to Delaware—home state of said love of my life and the setting for the Slower Lower books. I had no idea then Sussex County Delaware would one day serve as backdrop for the Delaney brothers and all their love woes. It was a few hours out from our destination when love of my life began to tell me the ground rules of being “introduced” to slower lower living (whatever?) and the eastern shore way (again, whatever?). Follow along my blog tour—the dates and places are on my calendar at Realmantic Moments—and I’ll be ‘splainin’ what exactly slower lower means over at Britni Hill’s place in a few days.
So, ground rules. Rule number one: Don’t crack chicken jokes. (hehe? Crack? Okay…moving on…)
I asked why not and he proceeded to tell me in a few miles I’d begin to see why and he’d not have much ‘splainin’ to do past that. Could he have been more right?
Oh. My. God.
My first glimpse of a chicken farm came in the early morning after 24 hours on the road and zero sleep. I thought at first I’d fallen asleep and was dreaming after his instructions not to make chicken jokes.
“What the hell is that?” I asked.
“That?” (love of my life swerves in the direction he’s talking toward) “That’s a chicken house. They take their chickens seriously here.”
Umm…ya think? I knew right then there would be no chicken jokes. Not that I really knew any, but had I I’d have kept them to myself. J
I kid you not kids. If you’ve never been exposed to the “chicken culture” let me ‘splain a bit. They are not chicken houses—they are in fact chicken hotels. Some of the hotels are three stories tall with auto-feeders and heat. Also, in case you get curious and go off in search of this phenomenon because you simply must see these chicken hotels, take a clothes pin with you. P. U.
And why do I visit today ‘splainin’ the chicken culture a bit? Because the Delaney boys are farmers and guess what they grow…
A Slower, Lower Leap
Book 3, Slower Lower series
Rebel Ink Press
February 17, 2013
Amazon ARe Barnes and Noble
When you’re the last man standing…
Not only was Logan Delaney the last of his siblings to remain unmarried and unsettled, his entire family believed he’d never find a wife. The baby of eight, he’s been dubbed an irresponsible player and told he’ll never amount to a hill of beans. And at one time, Logan may have been okay with those descriptions, but no more. On a quest to prove his worth, he’s spent the entire summer learning the family business, staying in at night, and saving his money. And if his family would stop meddling in his affairs and trying to dictate who he should and shouldn’t be seeing, he might just show them he’s found the one, Lizzy Jenkins.
And have a bad reputation to blame…
Elizabeth Jenkins had always known Logan Delaney existed, but he’d never so much as turned one glance her way until she handed him his butt on a silver platter in three sentences or less over the phone. After that it seemed at every turn there he was and the more she resisted the heat building between them, the bigger the fire got. Until his family interfered. And why wouldn’t they? Between Logan’s legacy and her baggage, they were a disaster in the making.
Can you be trusted with a fragile heart?
But Logan doesn’t run when he finds out about Colby. In fact, he embraces Lizzy’s special needs son and defies the advice of everyone urging him to leave Lizzy alone. But after one moment of weakness, Logan finds himself knee deep in a marriage complete with the little boy whose father bailed before his birth and Lizzy’s grandfather, who needs constant care as well. Then there's the man who just might be the demise of it all.
Excerpts, please choose one:
With a mixture of emotions swirling through her, Lizzy watched the same storm overtake Logan’s features which was brewing inside her. A veritable lightning bolt passed between them as soon as he’d touched her. She knew she’d always been attracted to Logan, but the instant heat still scalding her skin from his fingers left her unsettled. It was but a mere couple of hours prior she was trying to convince herself she could do with some sort of quickie sexual gratification, although she’d admitted it could never be with Logan, and now she wanted nothing more and the door to her emotions was wide open leaving her vulnerable and believing maybe they could have both. And just as she was trying to tell herself to stop trusting the lies her deprived body was concocting, Logan decided to try to convince her he might be interested in more as well.
Where was Logan the player and who was the imposter sitting across the table from her who could probably talk her right into his bed with one sentence or less and keep her coming back heartbreak on the horizon or not?
As her pulse slowed a bit, she turned to look at Colby and reminded herself why she couldn’t be playing horizontal Twister with anyone let alone Logan. And she sure couldn’t go letting Colby think there was a reason to get too comfortable around him. He seemed to like Logan and the Delaney herd of kids and she didn’t want him getting his feelings hurt because she couldn’t control her hormonal urges. What if she made the mistake of screwing Logan’s brains out, things didn’t work out, and that made it awkward to be coming around anymore? This was the first time anyone had really taken them in and welcomed them unconditionally and she didn’t want to rob Colby of it.
Lizzy watched Colby make yet one more circle around the living room with his arms spread and sighed in frustration. He was oblivious to the disruption he was causing which only added to her exacerbation with the situation. How could she possibly be angry with him when he didn’t grasp the concept of time or what it did to her nerves when his unscheduled moments of innocence hampered what should have been her scheduled life? And it surely wasn’t his fault he was the way he was or that he’d even been conceived at all for that matter. No, his conception was wholly her fault and she’d been paying for it for nearly six years. Alone.
But the truth was, no matter how many times she kicked herself for believing whispered promises in a back seat and guilt swamped her even though medical science would argue it was nothing she’d done to make him this way, Lizzy loved her little boy more than life itself. There were days, though.
Like today, she wanted to sit and cry until there were no more tears left then cry some more. Rarely was it, though, Lizzy had time for such frivolities as tears. What time wasn’t taken up with Colby’s care was spent at her job as the assistant officer manager at the farmer’s market, somewhere she had no intention of working a lifetime and which brought her to yet another responsibility on her list. School. When she wasn’t working or caregiving, Lizzy was an almost full-time student and watched the sun rise on a new day without sleep having studied all night more than once. In a word, she was not only exhausted physically, she was just plain tired. Never in her life would she have imagined being twenty-three and feeling so defeated.
What she wouldn’t give for one night of freedom. One night filled with beers and dancing. Maybe even some hot sweaty sex in the form of someone who would disappear the next day and not look back. Well, that and not leave her knocked up. Alone was fine, with another baby to tend to by herself, not so much.
Of course she had no idea how to go about this stranger for one night sex. The closest she came to any man was when they made deliveries to the market or they drove their grandfathers to the Senior Center for bingo and hung around waiting for the old farts to get tired of dotting cards and fighting the caller over what had come out as B-five but was mistook for B-nine because someone’s hearing aid battery was running low. And although they all knew
her fairly well, they avoided her for the most part because of which grandfather she dropped off at bingo. Thank God none of them knew Michael Silcox was the one who’d left her high and dry with a special needs child, not exactly prime bait to fish with in the pond of hooking up. Her name associated with his would only add fuel to the stay away from Lizzy fire as his family owned most of Georgetown.
Lila Munro currently resides on the coast of North Carolina with her husband and their two four-legged kids. She’s a military wife with an empty nest and takes much of her inspiration for her heroes from the marines she’s lived around for the past fifteen years. Coining the term realmantica, she strives to produce quality romance in a realistic setting. Her genre of choice is contemporary romance that spans everything from the sensual softer read to BDSM and ménage. When she’s not writing, she enjoys reading everything she can get her hands on, trips to the museum and aquarium, taking field research trips, and soaking up the sun on the nearby beaches. Her works include The Executive Officer’s Wife, Bound By Trust, Three for Keeps, the Force Recon series, the Slower Lower series, the Identity series, and the Private Collection. Currently she is working on two new series set to release summer of 2013, the At Your Service line and the Steele Image line. She’s a member in good standing of RWA. Ms. Munro loves to hear from her readers and can be found at Realmantic Moments Facebook Goodreads Twitter You can also contact her via email at firstname.lastname@example.org and you can find all her works at: Amazon ARe Nook Bookstrand
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