Whoopee! Jack Wittingham comes to visit.

Today is my lucky day!

I’m getting to meet this gorgeous hunk wearing the Santa hat. Laura browning will be along in a while, but first I’m meeting Jack Wittingham from Santa’s Helper. (Laura will give us details of Santa’s Helper, newly released two days ago on 7^th December, a bit later on.)

Hello, Jack, come in and make yourself comfortable and tell me a little about yourself. Where are you from?

I’m from Kentucky. A city kid. Born and raised there, but spent most of my time as a kid as one of the have-nots. I’ve come a long way since then.

I’ve never been to Kentucky…yet. Maybe someday, but you could tell me what your life is like there?

Like I said, I didn’t have much as a kid, but I swore even back then that my life would change. I’d make it. I started my own construction business and worked my...uh...behind off so I could have everything I’d only ever read or dreamed about. I’ve got a great house now. It’s one my dad used to do odd jobs at. Now I own it. I collect art, too. I like bold, bright work. Fond of Matisse. His later stuff, once he really hit his own stride... Sorry, I tend to go off on subjects I really enjoy.

There’s no problem with a bit of enthusiasm, Jack. I’m hearing you’ve been a bit enthusiastic about a cute little female you recently met. Where were you when you met Merry for the first time?

Ringing the Red Kettle bell outside the mall. Lost a bet with the guys who work for me, so I took over their shifts. Merry was on her way into the mall.

You were ringing the little bell and encouraging the ladies in? Hmmm….don’t think you’d have too much of a problem there, Jack! So what was your immediate thought when you first saw her?

I thought she was a real cheapskate. I mean, she only forked over a buck, you know? I was really embarrassed later when I figured out what was really going on.

Give us a little description of what she was like that day?

She’s beautiful no matter what. I noticed her right off because she seemed so put together like one of those women who never has a hair out of place. She was hurrying along in this perfectly tailored winter coat with a big smile on her face. I figured she was getting ready to splurge with hubby’s platinum Amex. Wow. Was I wrong.

What did you like most about Merry at first?

The very first time I saw her? Nothing. Even her smile ticked me off. I wasn’t in the best of moods. Then she showed up with a cup of coffee, and she was dressed in an elf’s costume. Good lord! I about busted a gut. It dawned on me how off-base I’d been about her.

Aha! So your opinion about her changed pretty quickly then?

Night and day. Here I thought she’d come to the mall to shop and she was there to work part time as an elf. We started talking, and I realized she was working her butt off to support herself and her son, yet she still thought to bring me coffee, and she was amazing with those little kids lined up to see Santa.

Here’s the big question for all the female readers today, Jack. When did you first know you loved her?

She fascinated me from the start, but I think it was when I saw her sit on Santa’s lap to help a little girl get over her fear of the jolly old guy.

If I had Merry on the chair beside me how would she describe you?

Like a bear. She’s so delicate. Like a princess. I must seem pretty big next to her. Self-assured. Successful. Hell, I don’t know. I’m not comfortable talking about myself like that. I hope she knows how much I love her...that I’ll always be there for her and Scotty, that’s her boy.

That’s a really sweet answer, Jack, and I sure hope Merry appreciates you but don’t go away just yet. We’re going to look at a little bit of Santa’s Helper now. The cover is absolutely fabulous and you both look quite...ahem...sssssexy?

Blurb:

Merry Collins is trying hard to live up to her name this holiday season. Between juggling three jobs, contending with a car on its last leg, and her ex-husband suddenly demanding visitation with their son, she’s finding it tough to keep her impish smile in place as one of Santa’s part-time elves.

After losing a bet, Jack Wittingham finds himself ringing the Red Kettle bell in front of the mall for two weeks. A successful self-made businessman, Jack’s not long on Christmas spirit, but a bet’s a bet and he’ll ring for a good cause. So when an elf appears bearing a hot cup of coffee, he's intrigued, especially when she blushes.

Can Merry and Jack put their holiday troubles behind them to open the greatest Christmas gift of all—love?

Excerpt:

“I thought you might like a cup of coffee.”

Jack looked down for what seemed like forever to a pair of bright blue-green eyes and curly red hair

sticking out from beneath…an elf’s hat? He blinked. Was he delusional? Had the cold gotten to him to the

point where he was imagining elves?

Her smile disappeared as she bit her lip. “I noticed you when I came in to work. I thought you might be cold if you were still out here. And we—we had some leftover coffee.”

He took the cup from her. “Thanks.”

She shifted from one foot to the other. “Right. It’s black. I hope that’s how you like it.”

“It is.” Jack knew he was making her nervous, but he couldn’t resist. He remembered her now. She was the woman in the tailored overcoat who’d been so cheap…tossing in just a buck. And here she was dressed like an elf.

She hadn’t entered the mall to shop; she’d arrived for work. The woman in the tailored camel hair coat was working as an elf. For whatever bizarre reason, Jack found that intriguing.

She nodded and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. A small shiver shook her slender frame beneath the costume.

“You’ll freeze out here. You should go in unless elves have some sort of magical protection.”

This time she blushed, as if only now realizing she still wore her elf suit, and nodded her head…Her hands fluttered, and he noticed how fine-boned she was. “I should go inside.”

She turned to hurry away from him.

“Wait!” She stopped and glanced over her shoulder. His gut clenched with sudden desire.

“What’s your name?”

She blinked. “Merry.”

“Mary?”

“Merry—like Merry Christmas.”

I’m guessing that she doesn’t run away from you, Jack, but to ask you would be too telling! Never mind though for here’s Laura Browning now. Laura you wrote Santa’s Helper so let’s find out a bit about you.

I live in North Carolina with my husband, son and a menagerie of animals. In addition to writing, I also teach high school English. Teaching is a second career for me. I graduated with a degree in Journalism and spent many, many, many years working as a television news producer. When I switched to the classroom and told my husband I was just a little concerned about getting up in front of a roomful of kids, he laughed and said, “Honey, just pull out the producer voice. You won’t have any problems at all.”

What do you find most relaxing in a typical day then, Laura?

My pets. We’ve got horses, cats, dogs—even a lizard. She’s not exactly oozing personality. However, right now we’ve got puppies and they are such a riot. Sitting down and having them jump up to be cuddled really is a huge tension reliever. We have Jack Russell Terriers and also JRT/Border Terrier crosses. I used to be a large dog breed fan, but the terriers have really won me over. They are always so ready to be where you are doing whatever you want to do.

What have you learned most about being a writer?

Probably the biggest thing I’ve learned is that when you’ve written the first draft—the work is really just beginning. I have immense respect for editors even if sometimes my initial reaction when I see a change is: “How could you not find every single letter and comma absolutely perfect?!”

Do you have a favourite character in Santa’s Helper?

Jack. No hesitation there.

If you spent a day with Jack in Santa’s Helper, what would you most like to do with him?

What rating is this blog?? Well, if Merry weren’t in the picture, I wouldn’t mind finding Jack under the Christmas tree in desperate need of unwrapping.

I’d like to unwrap him too! So what’s next in your writing schedule?

I am working on a series of books about a family who own a newspaper dynasty. Coincidentally, the initial book, Bittersweet, also just released on December 5, 2011 from Lyrical Press.

Where can your readers find you?

I have a website – www.laurabrowningbooks.com a blog – www.laurabrowningbooks.blogspot.com I’m on facebook as Laura Browning and Laura Browning Author (I love friending people!) and on Twitter @laurabrowning4.

To buy Santa’s Helper use the link: http://www.thewildrosepress.com/index.php?main_page=product_info&cPath=175_133&products_id=4705

One lucky person will be chosen from today’s comments box and will go into a draw to win an ecopy of Santa’s Helper so don’t forget to leave an email contact in the comments box, please. Laura intends to draw the winner on Sunday 12/11 at 10pm EST.

Thank you for coming Jack. You know I think I’m jealous Laura gets to take you away today! Never mind though as I can read all about you soon…in Santa’s Helper. Thanks for coming today, Laura!

Slainthe!

‘She said…he said’ gives a huge welcome to Liz Flaherty!

Hi there! It’s so good to have Liz here today! She’s very kindly agreed to be grilled by me and has given us a lovely ‘early’ peek at her latest novel ‘One More Summer’ that’s soon to be released from Carina Press.

Visitors today, don’t forget that one of you can be our lucky winner if you leave a comment for us. So, no more ado; let's get on and meet Liz.

Hello, Liz! What have you got for us today?

Nancy, thank you so much for having me. I’m so excited about ONE MORE SUMMER. It’s not out yet, but I’ll send a copy of THE DEBUTANTE’S SECOND CHANCE to one lucky person who leaves us a comment today.

How long have you been a published writer, Liz?

Although my first book was published in 1999, I was a newspaper columnist long before that, and had essays and a few short stories “out there.”

You’ve certainly been in the ‘writing game’, in some way or another, for a long time. How many books have you published so far?

This is my fifth, my first with Carina Press.

Will you give us a little peek at your latest release, please?

ONE MORE SUMMER skips back and forth between romance and romance. It’s the story of Dillon and Grace—Dillon shows up fifteen years late for the prom—and of Grace and Promise, her best friend who is fighting breast cancer. Along with an ensemble cast that worked its way into my heart (and my keyboard!), they work their way through heartache, hope, and, finally, deliverance.

That sounds fascinating, so, what would you say is the genre/ subgenre of ‘One More Summer’?

It’s a romance/women’s fiction “hybrid.” Every time I call it a romance, the muse taps me on the shoulder and says, “Hey, are you forgetting those chapters you wrote at three in the morning because they wouldn’t let you sleep?”

Were there any triggers which led to the plotline for ‘One More Summer’?

My mother had breast cancer, my sister-in-law ovarian cancer. The illnesses were devastating. I think the book started out as a catharsis for me, but went on to become much more.

That’s sad to know people so close to you have been affected by cancer. It’s hard to imagine it not affecting what a writer produces sometimes, but…onto ‘One More Summer- what’s your hero like?

Dillon Campbell is a best-selling author bouncing back from loss and a resultant case of depression. He’s also the guy who stood Grace up for the prom fifteen years before the start of the book. He spends the summer making up for it.

Aha! Maybe a little more of the plot divulged here! Do the names for characters just pop into your head as soon as you start a book?

I have the people first. Named and complete with personalities in my head. The story comes later. Word by excruciating word.

What does your heroine think when she first meets Dillon?

LOL—mostly she thinks, Who do you think you are, you jerk?

If cancer plays a part in the novel did you have to do a lot of research?

Quite a bit about breast cancer. The setting, although Peacock, Tennessee is a fictional town, is very real. My sister-in-law Betty lives there and answered questions for me.

What’s your hero's biggest challenge in ‘One More Summer’?

Sharing his pain, allowing someone else to slay his dragons.

I’ve heard other authors saying they have areas of the novel they find more difficult to write. What about you? Is it the beginning, middle or end?

Middle. Because it sucks! J I love beginnings, because it’s all coming at me so fast I can scarcely get it written down—okay, typed—and the end is my reward and it’s leisurely and just...fun. The middle, however, only comes after I sit and stare at the keyboard for what seems like weeks. Even then, I throw out a ton of what I’ve written there and second-guess all the rest.

Do you have a tendency to write about places you’ve been to…or just ones you would like to visit?

Where I’ve been, just because that’s more comfortable for me. Even then I have to study it to get the seasons right. The weather right. Names right. This is, by the way, a perfectly viable excuse to travel anywhere you like.

Big disclosure time, now! The sensual parts. Do you prefer their sexual scenes to be open and bold? Or left to the imagination?

Left to me, we’d always go to a commercial. I’m not a fan of sex scenes, although I admire people who write them well. I’ve read romance for so long, and the story is always what I’m after. Very sensual parts get in my way. I’m not a prude; they just bore me. Doesn’t mean I think they shouldn’t be in books, just means I don’t want to read them. When I write one, it takes me a period of days, because I have to go back and add to it to give it some depth. I hope they come out all right, but it’s pretty much my least favorite part of writing romance.

Is there one character in ‘One More Summer’ that’s your favorite?

I like women who are strong because they’ve had to be. No big deal. No heroics. No overt drama. And yet they maintain this mushy middle. That’s Grace. That’s my favorite character. That’s who I want to be when I grow up.

I love that! (Don’t I wish that too!) So, what are you working on right now?

A sequel, and I’m definitely doing the type one line, take out two things, so I’m not at all confident of my success!

Don’t we all remove more than we leave? Here was I thinking that was obligatory, Liz!

Well, now, after that I think we’ll move on to something completely different! Let’s have a little peek at your blurb and excerpt from ‘One More summer’. First let's ogle the stunning cover you've brought for us today!

Blurb:

Grace has taken care of her widowed father her entire adult life and the ornery old goat has finally died. She has no job, no skills and very little money, and has heard her father’s prediction that no decent man would ever want her so often she accepts it as fact.

But she does have a big old house on Lawyers Row in Peacock, Tennessee. She opens a rooming house and quickly gathers a motley crew of tenants: Promise, Grace’s best friend since kindergarten, who’s fighting cancer; Maxie, an aging soap opera actress who hasn’t lost her flair for the dramatic; Jonah, a sweet, gullible old man with a crush on Maxie.

And Dillon, Grace’s brother’s best friend, who stood her up on the night of her senior prom and has regretted it ever since. Dillon rents Grace’s guest house for the summer and hopes to make up for lost time and past hurts—but first, he’ll have to convince Grace that she’s worth loving…

Excerpt:

Beautiful? Grace stood in front of the mirror and stared curiously at herself. No, not by any means. But—she reached up to fluff the hair drying into soft curls on top of her head—better. Undeniably better.

Lights were on in the cottage in the trees, and she wondered what Dillon was doing. Then her gaze fell on the gazebo with its torn screens and rotting floor and her stomach twisted into a knot that felt like a fist pushing its way to the outside. A shudder rippled through her and she clutched the windowsill for support.

He said beautiful. Put that in your pipe and smoke it, Papa. She stroked her arms firmly with the palms of her hands, as though brushing away the bruises Robert had left there more times than she could count. Less often after he’d cut her face with his ring, but often enough she still expected to see dark spots on her skin.

She was restless. Enlivened. Part of it was the adrenaline fed by her fear for Promise. But another part was the attractive haircut, the memory of Dillon’s thumb stroking her cheek and his voice saying softly, “Beautiful.”

The echo of that voice still fell on her ears when she reached for the oversize T-shirt she wore to bed. She immediately put it back down and donned a dress Faith had given her. No more than a slip of thin cotton knit in a dark cranberry color, its neckline scooping low both front and back, it fell to her ankles without binding anywhere. Not only was it comfortable, it made her feel sort of…sexy.

Grace’s cheeks burned at the turn her thoughts had taken, then she got mad for blushing and wondered if she had any nail polish around. She’d just paint her toenails, so there. It wasn’t like there was anything wrong with sexy, was there?

Downstairs, she poured a glass of wine, even though it was only Monday night, and slipped quietly through the kitchen and porch doors into the backyard. She stood for a moment, undecided what to do now that she was out here, and frowned in disappointment when the first drops of rain began to fall.

Unwilling to relinquish the freedom of being outside alone in the dark, she walked around the side of the house to the seldom-used front porch. Her mother’s beloved rattan furniture was still there, but she settled into the padded swing that faced Lawyers Row. She sat sideways, dropped one foot to set the swing in motion, then drew her knees up.

Dillon’s soft whistle preceded him around the house. He stepped onto the porch, carrying a wine bottle and a glass, and sat uninvited on the other end of the swing. His thigh brushed her bare toes and she made to draw away, but his hand clasping her foot stopped her retreat.

“How’s Maxie’s headache?” he asked, kneading the foot with a rhythmic motion. His thumb found the nail of her big toe and stroked over the polished surface. Again and again. Slowly.

Grace’s entire body turned to gooseflesh. “Better. She went to sleep early. Jonah sat with her, massaging her temples. Promise tried to tell me he was crazy about her, but I didn’t think so. Maybe I was wrong.”

“Love takes back roads sometimes.” His voice sounded hollow, and when she tried to meet his eyes, she couldn’t. What back roads had he traveled? And how had he been hurt on those travels?

They sat in silence that was both companionable and fraught with awareness, sipping wine and—once—clinking their glasses in an unspoken toast.

“Tell me about where you’ve been,” she said suddenly. “What you’ve seen.”

“No.” He softened the refusal with a tickle on the arch of one of her feet, then reached to refill her glass. “You tell me. Tell me what’s happened to Grace Elliot since her date for the prom didn’t show up.”

“Nothing. I’m the same as I was then.” She was, mostly. The damage had been done long before prom night. “And I haven’t been anywhere, so I like to hear about where other people have gone.” And I like to hear your voice. It makes me feel…

Even in her thoughts, she couldn’t put into words how the sound of his voice touched her. How it stroked over her skin like tenderness. How it strengthened her spirit to the point that facing another day was something to be anticipated instead of dreaded. Her tongue loosened by the wine, she said, “Please.”

He told her about England and Ireland, making her see thatched roofs and pubs in narrow lanes and more shades of green than she could imagine. He skipped over France because he said he hadn’t liked it there and spoke with admiration of free-spirited Australians, adopting horrendous accents in the telling that made her smile.

The wine bottle was nearly empty when he said, “That’s the end of the travelogue.”

“No, it’s not.” She reached, turning his face so he could no longer avoid her eyes. “You haven’t mentioned Iraq.”

He hesitated. “Didn’t you see enough of war living with Robert Elliot all those years?”

“That was cold war, and it’s over.” Though she shivered as she said it.

“War’s over for me too.”

“No, it’s not.” It’s back there in the guesthouse in that book you’re writing—I’d bet my big toe on it.

“The soldiers were so bored most of the time,” he began, “and yet the fear was something you could taste. Fear and sand and strangeness. You could sense courage, and a feeling of rightness. I stayed longer, dug deeper, listened harder. I saw more than I had ever seen before.” He lifted his glass to his lips and drained it.

The pain was thick in his voice, even in the grip of his fingers on her foot. Without taking the time to think about it, she laid her hand on his.

When he clasped her wrist to pull her to him and fold her into his arms, she didn’t pull away, nor did she stiffen. His heart beat strong and steady under the hand she rested on his chest, and she stroked with light, hesitant touches. She wanted to give comfort, but didn’t know how.

He held her so tightly it hurt, but at the same time sensation flowed blissfully through muscles and into places she’d known she had but hadn’t given all that much thought to recently. It was like a salve on the omnipresent worry over Promise’s illness. Grace sat quiet in Dillon’s arms and realized for the first time in her life that sometimes the giving of comfort leads to ease for the comforter.

She realized something more too. That there was heat wherever he touched her. With the heat, came longing. It started in her toes, still warm from the touch of his fingers, and rumbled through her body to rest low in her abdomen. Even as she settled more comfortably into his embrace, she blamed the sensations on the dress, the unaccustomed varnish on her toenails, the haircut.

But it was more. It was more.

Wow! That’s a very intriguing excerpt, Liz. Definitely wants to make you read much more! Here’s to great success with it…but we’re not finished with you yet! Let’s get a little idea of who you are, Liz.

What's your favorite time of year?

Morning. LOL. I love all times of the year, though I have soft spots for spring and fall, but I love morning ANY time of the year.

Are morning colours your favorites, then?

Blue. Maybe. Or red. Maybe teal—yeah, I love teal. Or fall colors. Or purple—it’s so rich. No. No favourite color.

If you nibble while writing what would be your favourite snack food?

As I’m constantly on a diet, I will say, righteously, apples and bananas. The truth is that I’d walk a long way for a can of Pringles.

Me, too, about the walking for Pringles, but once started a tub I find it very hard to…stop!

It’s been lovely having you here today, Liz, and I’ve really enjoyed having the opportunity to get a glimpse of ‘One More Summer’. So a resounding big thanks from me, Liz, for coming to ‘she said, he said’.

For more information on Liz’s books here’s some contact information- a search on lizflaherty.com will bring up appropriate amazon and facebook pages.

To pre-order ‘One More Summer’ go to: http://www.amazon.com/One-More-Summer-ebook/dp/B006BE6HAG/ref=sr_1_2?ie=UTF8&qid=1323207379&sr=8-2

or B & N http://www.barnesandnoble.com/s?keyword=one+more+summer&store=allproducts&page=%2Findex.asp&prod=univ&pos=&box=

‘One More Summer’ will be available from Carina Press and Audible early in the New Year-so keep a look out for it!

Please remember to leave a comment (with an email contact) to win a copy of ‘The Debutante’s Second Chance’.

Slainthe!