Although she’s completely unprepared for life in South America, Joan loves her sister and sets off on an adventure that changes her life. A mystery man is trying to kill her and leads her from the relative safety of the city to the jungles. That is where she meets Jack Colton. *sigh* One of my favorite kinds of heroes – the kind who reluctantly agrees to help the heroine (for $375 in traveler’s checks) with smarmy humor mixed in with his fascination with Joan. Of course, she proves to him that a romance novelist has a big pair of brass ones and more smarts than any man. I love, love, love this movie. Can you tell? For Christmas this year, DH gave me Romancing the Stone on DVD. Oh, it was a reward I dangled over myself for a week while I worked on my WIP. I needed to watch the movie, I craved it. Finally I reached the point where I rewarded myself by watching it (with a bowl of popcorn of course). It was every bit as good as the first time. Better because I savored every second of it. Now let me backtrack and tell you that at age 16 when I saw this movie, I had already fallen in love with romance novels. I ate them like candy, addicted to my mother’s Harlequins. Romancing the Stone seemed to show a wide-eyed girl, who dreamed of being a writer, what she could do, could be, could achieve. Right then and there, I decided I wanted to be a writer for real, forever. I lost my way a bit after college (I did get a degree in dramatic writing) when I got married and had two kids, but then when I turned thirty I rediscovered not only my love of romance novels, but a burning need to write them. Now here I am ten years later with more than seventeen published works, and I’m doing what I absolutely love. When I watched Romancing the Stone again last week, I was awash in the memory of what exactly inspired me to be a romance novelist. Oh yeah, one day I want someone to say to me, “Beth Williamson? The Beth Williamson? I have all your books!” as Juan did to Joan Wilder in the wilds of Columbia. If you love romance (and I know you do), do yourself a favor and watch Romancing the Stone.
Beth Williamson is the author more than fifteen novels and novellas. Her current print release with Samhain Devils on Horseback: Nate, a fast-paced western romance that will have you on the edge of your seat.
Beth lives just outside of Raleigh, North Carolina, with her husband and two sons. Born and raised in New York, she holds a B.F.A. in writing from New York University. She spends her days as a technical writer, and her nights immersed in writing hot romances for her readers. You can find her online at http://www.bethwilliamson.com/ or on her blog at http://myblog.bethwilliamson.com/.
The way I see it, this situation has grown way beyond a case of possible fraud. It highlight some fundamental issues in our society such as sexism and our muddied view of crimes and criminals. If Ms. Edwards is found to be guilty, is she more or less of a criminal than James Frey, the man who was caught taking other people's stories and putting them into his autobiography? Is it really a crime to steal from published works, or is it only a crime if its done badly? You decide.
J.C. Wilder is a multi-published author who has over thirty-some books under her belt and enough opinions to fill a volume more. You can visit her website at http://www.jcwilder.com
Please send your letters to webmaster@thesamhellion.com Whadya mean there’s no chocolate on this diet?, continued
For those on low carbohydrate diets:
Chocolate-Coconut Haystacks Ingredients:2 – egg whites, at room temperature 1 – cup sugar substitute 2 – TBSP cocoa powder 2 – TBSP sugar free chocolate syrup 2 – cups grated unsweetened coconut
Instructions: 1. Heat oven to 325. Line baking sheets with aluminum foil. Whip egg whites on low until medium pears form; gradually beat in sugar substitute and cocoa powder; continue beating until stiff peaks form. Fold in coconut and syrup. 2. Drop mixture by rounded teaspoonfuls onto prepared baking sheets. Shape into little pyramids with wet fingertips. 3. Bake 12 minutes. Cool on sheets 1 minute before transferring to wire racks to cool completely. Best stored in a metal container.
Nutritional information per cookie: 1 gram net carbs/1 gram fiber/.05 gram protein/ 3 grams fat/ 37 calories
Weight Watchers Sugar-Free Chewy Chocolate BrowniesIngredients:
Instructions:1. Preheat oven to 350 F. 2. Combine dry ingredients, stir in wet ingredients. 3. Coat an 8x8 baking pan with non-stick spray, spoon batter into pan and spread evenly. 4. Bake 20-25 minutes until edges are firm and center has just set. Nutritional information: Makes 16 brownies, 2" x 2" each/1 point each
Lorelei James taste tested the brownie recipe in celebration of her contemporary romance novel, DIRTY DEEDS recently being nominated for a 2007 Romantic Times Reviewers Choice Award for Best Small Press Romance! Yes, she ate the whole pan. Visit: www.loreleijames.com to see Lorelei’s other nonfattening treats – including Man Candy Mondays – and upcoming goodies.
She looked back into his eyes. “I’ve come a long way to save you,” she said. “Not you,” he hissed. “I won’t let you. Not you.” “You know it has to be this way.” She reached out then, cupping his cheek in her hand. His jaw was rough with stubble and damp with sweat. She moved closer so she could feel the heat of his body. “I only wish…” “What?” “I wish we could have had just a little time first. I wish we could have made love once.” She watched the thick column of his throat as he swallowed, felt the tightening of muscles under her palm. His breathing was harsh, brushing warmly over her face. “I won’t survive you,” he said. “You know that. You’re my raynia. My soul-twin. I won’t be able to live without you.” “We won’t be together long enough for complete bonding. You’ll survive. You’ll go on to have a family if you like.” “No.” The intensity in his voice made her heart clench. “There can be no other. Only you.” Pain filled his dark eyes, stealing her breath. “I don’t want to kill you,” he whispered. “I know.” She leaned in close, pulling in the musky scent of him, memorizing. This was her raynei. Her soul-twin. If fate had been kinder to them, they would have bonded for life. Had a family. Lived as a complete whole. But fate wasn’t always kind. “It’s the way it has to be. The Aleanian Priestess who trained me had a vision. I knew this day would come.” He frowned slightly. “Our oracle told me my raynia would rescue me one day, but it would cost her life.” She raised a brow. “Your oracle and our priestess must speak to the same gods. You see, there’s no other way. To save you, I’ll have to sacrifice my life.” “Don’t save me then. Get out. Vahe will be back tonight.” His head came up suddenly, as if sensing danger. “Where are the guards? The ones at the bottom of the tower.” She glanced away, then met his gaze. “Dead.” He took in the sword she still tightly gripped in her hand. “You’ve never killed before?” “No. I’ve been sword trained since I was ten. But I’ve only been sword sworn to the Aleanian Temple for a year.” “I’m sorry.” His face creased with such tender pain it made her ache. “What’s your name?” he asked after a moment. “Kellyn.” “I’m A’var. And I would have you live, Kellyn. I’d rather die than cause your death.” She smiled, the first genuine smile she’d managed since entering this foul land. She knew exactly how he felt. “You know I won’t allow that.” His dark gaze moved over her face. “You’re so beautiful.” “You say that because I’m your raynia. Not because it’s true.” “No. You are beautiful.” She didn’t argue further, but she knew how she looked. Her tall body muscled from sword training, her hair short and spiky, an ordinary shade of brown, her features plain and uninteresting. Her eyes were her best feature, a shade of blue bright and clear in daylight. But in the darkness of the tower room, he’d never see their true color. He, on the other hand, was the most handsome man she’d ever seen. His features were strong and broad, lips perfectly shaped, jaw angled, eyes dark and haunting. His hair was a shade of golden brown she knew would catch fire in sunlight. His body was thickly muscled with a dusting of tawny hair. She let her gaze run down the length of him, from his broad shoulders to the thick columns of his thighs. She shivered at the sight of his large penis, hardening under her gaze. She ran her free hand over his chest and smiled when his pectoral muscles flexed. As her hand trailed lower, over his abdomen, his hipbone, he sucked in a sharp breath. Her gaze jumped back to his, and the heat there burned her. “One kiss,” she murmured. “I’ll release you then. But, please, just one kiss first.” “Yes.” His voice was a quiet growl. Her stomach clenched as she pressed up against him. She was tall for a woman at six feet, but he was taller still. She rose up to meet his mouth. The first touch of their lips sent a shock of heat bolting through her body. She parted her lips and offered him full access, tilting her head to fit her mouth tightly over his lips. Their tongues tangled. She moaned softly at the exquisite taste of him. His arms and shoulders flexed, making his chains rattle. She marveled at the feel of him, the solid muscle, the hard length of his erection pressed against her stomach. No one else would ever taste so good, feel so perfect against her. She ran her free hand around his waist to his lower back, pulling him closer, dropped her hand lower to cover one tight cheek. The muscles beneath her palm were hard and slick with his sweat. Her fingers flexed, digging into his flesh. Her body trembled with a longing she couldn’t fulfill. And it was her one regret. Her only regret. That she would never feel him inside her. She would have to die before she could make love to him. But she was happy to make the sacrifice. Her raynei. Her heart. Knowing he would go on, she could find her peace. She wasn’t sure if it was a shift in the air, or a faint sound that caught her attention. But the hair on the back of her neck prickled and her instincts took over. She spun around with sword raised in a two-handed grip, placing herself protectively in front of A’var. The man in the doorway smiled, an arrogant smirk that set her teeth on edge. “How very sweet,” he said in a quiet, strangely pitched tone. The sound of his voice made her eyes hurt. “Vahe.” He laughed. “Good guess. Though who else I could possibly be, I couldn’t tell you.” He took a single step into the room. “So, girl. You think to take my new toy from me? And with nothing more than a little sword to protect you? You don’t really know who you’re dealing with do you?” She stared back without answering, keeping her expression emotionless as she studied him. He wore a simple robe of red silk, unadorned but richly cut, with long sleeves that hid his hands. His hair was nearly black in the dim room, though she knew the color was red in daylight. His eyes were shaded, impossible to read. His face was also difficult to see, as if he purposely kept his features in shadows. He wore no visible weapons, but she knew he didn’t need any. Only a great wizard would be able to capture an adult Gryphatar. And only a strong telepath would be able to resist the Gryphatar’s call. Kellyn wouldn’t make the mistake of underestimating Vahe. But she was only too happy to let him make that same mistake with her. His eyebrow rose, his smirk deepened. “Well, at least you don’t waste time with idle chatter.” He laughed again. She could feel the subtle testing of the block on her mind. The priestess had warned her it wouldn’t hold against an attack by a mage strong enough to capture a Gryphatar. She didn’t have much time left before he could break her mental protections. Vahe shifted his feet and tilted his head to one side. “Come now, girl. Put down the sword. You can’t win.” She remained silent and unmoving, the edge of her sword trained on him. His smirk turned to a snarl. “Don’t make me force the issue. You’ll only get hurt if I have to take that stick from you by force.” Her eyebrows rose. The corner of her mouth curved up. “I’d like to see you try.” “Fool,” he spat and a hand shot out from the depths of his long sleeves. She stood firm and felt the power of his spell split and roll around her. Because of her proximity to A’var, the bolt bypassed him as well and exploded behind them near the base of one of the tower windows. She heard A’var curse but didn’t dare turn to look at him. Vahe’s eyes widened. “How?” “Her name is Ba’nari,” she said. “A mage sword? Impossible.” “Why?” Her question released his anger. Rapid bursts of power sizzled around her, faster than she could count. She took a single step closer to A’var to protect him from the maelstrom. She had no defense against magic except for the sword. But the mage sword had chosen Kellyn as her owner long ago. Kellyn had faith Ba’nari would keep her safe. “Release me,” A’var said from behind her. His voice had deepened, turning rough as gravel. She didn’t dare look away from Vahe, but the sound of A’var’s voice made her neck prickle. His beast was raging for release. “I can’t help you if you don’t release me,” he said. When she didn’t respond, he roared. The sound shook the stone walls of the tower. The magical storm ceased. Vahe glared at her. “So.” After a moment, he pulled a long sword from the depths of his robe. “We shall see if you’re any good with that sword you should not have.” Now. She spun and sliced down through the chain holding one of A’var’s legs. The mage sword cut through the iron like hot butter. Vahe charged, forcing her to defend herself and move away from A’var. “I will not let him go!” the wizard roared. His long sword flashed out, surprising her with his speed and skill. A wizard wasn’t supposed to have that kind of proficiency with a mundane weapon. She countered, feigned, attacked. Vahe was good. But she was better. As she drove him back, the energy of battle sang in her blood, and she laughed from the joy of it. “I’ve earned my sword, Vahe,” she said, as she drove him backward. “Have you?” “You can’t beat me, girl.” But he was panting, his sword moving slower, on the defensive now. “Ha.” She danced away from him and sliced the chain binding A’var’s other leg. “You’re getting tired,” she said to Vahe as she freed one of A’var’s arms. He wouldn’t be fully free until the iron manacles were removed from contact with his skin. But with a free hand, A’var could finish the job himself. Kellyn spun to face Vahe’s next attack. She drove him away from A’var, pushing him toward a window. The wizard guessed her intentions and neatly avoided the trap. Metal rang against metal, echoing through the open room. The pungent scent of spent magic and metallic sparks filled the air. And then suddenly Vahe broke through Kellyn’s mental barrier. She screamed and dropped to the ground, her hands going to her ears even though she knew that wouldn’t hold back the pain. Only sheer willpower and years of training kept Ba’nari in her hand. To lose hold of her sword now would be her doom. And A’var might still need her help. She couldn’t die until he was free. Through the angry screeching in her head, she heard Vahe laugh. The edge of his robe moved into her blurred view, but she couldn’t look up. She sensed his sword raising, aiming, falling toward her. She squeezed her eyes shut, roared past the pain and raised her sword. The force of his downward swing slamming into her weapon vibrated up Kellyn’s arms. On her knees, she blocked his next blow, and his next. She could barely see, the pain in her head was so intense. Her stomach rolled with nausea. But she raised Ba’nari one more time, deflecting one more blow. Then as suddenly as it started, the pain stopped. She blinked and looked up. Vahe was smiling. “I want you to feel it coming,” he murmured. “You’ll know as you take your last breath, you should never have dared—” He was cut short by an ear-splintering screech. Vahe whirled to face a now free A’var. A glow surrounded the Gryphatar’s body, pulsing outward, filling the room. “Get out, Kellyn,” he growled in a voice no longer human. He looked at her, his eyes solid black. Run! The order tore through her mind. She lurched to her feet and ran to the door as the tower began to tremble. Vahe turned his full attention on A’var, his sword forgotten as the Gryphatar hunched and began to shift. Kellyn threw herself down the stairs, running so fast she nearly fell twice. She reached the bottom and charged out of the tower onto the barren hill just as the roof exploded. She turned in time to see a golden gryphon rising into the air, his scream of outrage ringing through the night sky. Her eyes widened. For a heartbeat, she could only stare in awe. He was beautiful. Then the debris from the tower rained down from the sky and she had to fling herself behind a rocky outcrop to keep from getting buried beneath the rubble. When she looked skyward again, she saw another creature rising to meet the gryphon. The Worm was a deep red, long and scaly, its hide rippling with unnatural light, membranous wings nearly transparent as they pulled the snake-like body higher. The gryphon’s golden feathers and tawny fur caught some of the glow when the Worm neared. The sky overhead turned red as the two creatures clashed. The battle was terrible to see. Kellyn’s heart stuck in her throat as she watched in helpless awe. The Worm lashed out with a spiked tail and rows of razor-sharp teeth. The gryphon’s foreclaws slashed at the Worm, his sharp beak tearing at scales and flesh. The Worm’s hide was hard, but the gryphon still drew blood. Beneath the battle, a stream of black rained out of the sky over the wasted fields. And then the Worm’s spiked tail arched, curling around the gryphon’s body, pinning his wings. The additional weight was too much for the Worm. The gryphon screeched and clawed with hind and forelegs, fighting for release as both creatures plummeted toward the ground. “No,” Kellyn breathed. She scrambled down the hill, heedless of her own safety, gaze fixed on the tumbling, thrashing pair. “No, please no,” she chanted, her chest tight. The gryphon shrieked and his wings snapped free. But they were too close to the ground. His wings beat fiercely, but the weight of the Worm pulled him down and both creatures slammed into the unforgiving earth. Tears streamed down Kellyn’s cheeks as she stumbled onto the field. She raced to the fallen animals, past hissing pits of acidic Worm’s blood. Neither creature moved. She slowed when she got close enough to see the gryphon still breathing. The Worm’s scales rippled, its tail twitched. She inched closer, her sword raised. She kept one eye on the Worm as she neared it, watching for any movement. A flicker of red was her only warning. She spun to face the whip crack of the Worm’s tail, but not fast enough. It lashed out and knocked her legs from beneath her, throwing her to the ground. Its angular head swung toward her and its long body rippled into motion. She crawled backward, scrambling to put distance between herself and the creature. Its head snapped out, spiked tongue flickering, tasting her fear. She clambered to her feet, struggling to keep the Worm in front of her. She pointed the tip of her sword at it, feigning jabs to hold it back. Dagger-sharp teeth struck at her. The Worm hissed, inching closer, its head swinging back and forth. Its eyes were huge and red, boring into her. She waited for the mental attack she knew Vahe was capable of, but it never came. The Worm approached like an animal, a dangerous predator seeking her weakness. She dragged her feet backward, feeling her way, waiting for an opening. She swung her blade at the Worm’s head when it snapped at her again. But a rock caught her heel and she stumbled. She stayed on her feet, but the moment’s lapse was all the Worm needed. It lunged forward, moving too fast for her to escape. She jabbed at it with her sword, knowing her weapon wouldn’t be enough, and she was about to die. And then the Worm reared back and screamed. Behind it, the gryphon rose, holding the Worm’s tail in its claws and beak. She heard the crunching sound, the snap of bones, and the Worm screamed again. Its head spun, lashing at its attacker. The gryphon released the Worm’s now-useless tail and snatched at its head. Blood squirted in a hissing arc, forcing Kellyn to fling herself to one side to avoid the acid sting. When she looked back at the pair, the Worm lay in a crumpled heap beneath the panting gryphon. Wings spread wide, the gryphon screeched and launched into the air, carrying the Worm’s carcass with him. She watched him fling the pieces of the Worm’s body away, deeper into the deadlands. He circled once, twice, then dropped roughly to the ground and lay still. With her last remaining energy, Kellyn ran to the fallen gryphon. His eagle eyes blinked at her when she stopped near his head. A soft keening sound rose from his throat, but he made no effort to rise. She edged closer until she could press her palm against the downy-soft feathers on his chest where they blended with the tawny fur of his lion’s body. “I’m going to heal you.” She ran her hands over his exposed shoulder, soothing. “Your wounds are deep. This will take some time.” She watched his flickering eyes, searching for some sign he understood. She wasn’t sure how much of A’var was conscious inside the gryphon, and she didn’t want the creature to attack her before she had a chance to heal his injuries. He’d been driven to the breaking point. The Gryphatar couldn’t abide captivity. The only reason the gryphon’s rage hadn’t killed her yet was the presence of the Worm to distract him. And if the gryphon didn’t kill her, the healing probably would. She could feel the depths of the wounds, even with Ba’nari on her back. She couldn’t heal him with the sword near, though; its magical block worked on her own magic as well as the magic of others. But she couldn’t leave Ba’nari vulnerable either. She eased back from the creature, careful to keep her movements slow and measured. When she was certain she was far enough away, she unlatched the scabbard across her back and dropped it to the ground. Then she took Ba’nari in a double fisted grip, the blade point angled toward the sky. “Thank you, Ba’nari,” she murmured. “You’ll be safe here until the Heron come to get you.” She swung the sword point down, dropped to one knee and drove the sword blade deep into the black earth, burying it near to the hilt. No one but a sword mage would be able to remove it now. Kellyn walked back to the gryphon. His breathing was labored, his head barely able to rise from the ground. She took a deep breath and let the power flow through her, centering herself as the priestesses had taught. She brought her hands up, vaguely aware of their faint glow, and held them out over the gryphon’s massive body. She closed her eyes, sank into the depths of the healing trance and let herself go.
*** Kellyn’s eyes flickered, and she squinted against the bright light. She felt soft ground beneath her, heard the whisper of a breeze through tree leaves, smelled the faint scent of water and moist soil. And just beneath that, she caught a faint, very familiar scent. Slowly, as her eyes adjusted to the glaring sunlight, she opened them and looked around. She lay on velvety grass in a tree-ringed clearing, a small stream trickling over rocks nearby. The sun was high, but the air was fresh and cool. She sucked in a deep breath and let the clean air clear her lungs of the stench of Vahe’s lands. A sound turned her head, and she looked up into the most beautiful eyes she’d ever seen. A’var smiled, his hair golden in the sunlight, his dark eyes bright. “So you’ve finally decided to wake up.” He reached out and ran a hand gently over her cheek. The feel of his callused fingers on her skin made her breath hitch. It was the first time she’d been able to feel his touch. “I’m not dead,” she said after a moment. He chuckled and the sound made her skin tingle and her thighs clench. “No. I returned to human form after you healed me. I found you unconscious, your sword buried in the ground a few hundred yards away.” “Ba’nari!” She lurched upward, only realizing as she moved that she held the mage sword in her hand, the blade safely housed in its scabbard. “How? How can she be here?” “A Heron arrived just as I woke up. I was searching for your pulse when he appeared next to the blade. He ignored me and knelt before the sword. I’m not sure what happened but a moment later, he pulled the blade from the ground, re-sheathed it and brought it back to you.” “Did he say anything?” “He said you weren’t dead so the sword wouldn’t leave you. He told me to keep it close to you and it would help you recover.” She glanced down at the blade, then back to A’var. “I didn’t know she could do that.” “I’m grateful she could.” He ran his fingers through her short hair and tugged her face close to his. “Where are we?” “On a cliff beyond Vahe’s lands, into the living land again. You needed rest, and I wanted you safe while you recovered.” He frowned slightly, his eyes narrowing. “What’s wrong?” “The oracle has never been wrong before. I didn’t expect you to survive once I was released, and I’m terrified something will happen now to take you away from me.” She smiled and leaned that last inch to touch her lips to his. His hand clenched in her hair, dragging her closer as he deepened the kiss. When she could bear to lose the contact, she pulled back enough to look him in the eyes. “Your oracle gave the same prophecy as the Aleanian priestess. I would find you and rescue you, and it would cost me my life. And it has. My old life.” His frown deepened. She laughed, dropping a light kiss on his lips. “Prophets are generally right without ever being straightforward. You weren’t intending to move to Malyk were you?” “I can’t. I have to live in Gryphaldin. I can’t be away for long without losing control of my shifting.” “I know. And that means if we’re going to be together, I have to move to Gryphaldin.” When he continued to frown she said, “Don’t you see? My old life is over. Nothing will ever be the same for me again. I won’t see home often, I’ll have to break my oath to the Temple. Being with you costs me that life.” She smiled, set Ba’nari aside and circled her arms around his neck. “But it’s a price I’m happy to pay. To be with you.” “Raynia,” he murmured and pulled her close. “I’ll make sure, to my dying day, your new life is worth the sacrifice.”
The End
Check out award-winning author Isabo Kelly’s books at www.isabokelly.com
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