Bullet Hole Goes to the Ballet!

I'm a small town girl. Much like Tressa Jayne Turner, the cockeyed cowgirl whose misadventures figure prominently in my Calamity Jayne mystery series. And, like Tressa, horses were my life. My idea of culture growing up was the rodeo and the horse show. Yeehaw!

Later, as a state trooper who worked security at the state fair, the grandstand shows and the odd concert introduced me to stage entertainment. (Plus, I got to get really close to the stage and performers. Funny how a badge and a sidearm can make that happen.)

Next I discovered musicals and added a bit of sophistication to the good-ol'-girl persona.

I had never, however, been to a ballet performance. It's not because I don't care for dance. Or music. It's just that I...hate mimes. Yep. I can't stand mimes. They rank right up there with clowns on my "Things I Loath List". So, the idea of three hours of sitting and watching what basically amounts to 180 minutes of mime to tell a story didn't exactly trip my trigger.

But recently I had the opportunity to step out of my comfort zone when the Moscow Ballet presented a performance of The Sleeping Beauty at the university two of my triplets attend.

And I loved it!

Of course, it didn't hurt that I knew the story that was being told and didn't have to guess at what was going on. The performance was flawless and engaging and the afternoon flew.

I also got a kick out of all the mothers who brought their own little ballerinas to watch the performance. That alone was worth the price of admission!

When have you stepped out of your comfort zone and tried something new? What was the outcome? Uplifting and rewarding or disappointing and a drag?

Speaking of trying new things, remind me to tell you about the time(s) I volunteered to drive in a demolition derby. Or the time I decided to try water skiing before I learned to swim. Or the time I smoked a cigar at my State Patrol District meeting to protest the "good ole boys club".

Er, maybe not.

~Kat~

Immortally Yours

Happy Wednesday! I find myself grinning a bit this morning because the cover for my latest book, Immortally Yours, has found its way into my inbox.

This is the first of a new series. It's a dark comedy/urban fantasy about a group of paranormal MASH surgeons. The heroine is a thoracic surgeon, drafted from her practice in New Orleans to serve with a bunch of misfits. Luckily she meets a hot demi-god to sweeten the deal.

Isn't that always the way?

But, hey, it would be a real short book if we didn't give her a hot hero to push her buttons and challenge her a bit. I'd like to say I did up close and personal research with a smoking hot demi-god, but I'm still trying to find one. Rest assured, this is an important element of "realism" and I won't rest until I find my demi-god. In fact, if any of you would like to do your own hot demi-god research, all in the name of good books, that would be even better.

Oh and the summation as it stands right now. I'm not sure this is the exact copy that will appear on the back of the book, but it is the latest version I have and I'm sure it's pretty darned close:

From bestselling author Angie Fox comes a thrilling new series about ancient gods, modern love, and one star-crossed couple who could use some divine intervention…

IN THE WAR BETWEEN THE GODS…

No one patches up the incoming wounded like Dr. Petra Robichaud. Recruited by the gods for her uncanny medical skills, she’s the best M*A*S*H surgeon in the army. Along with a nosy guard sphinx, vegetarian werewolf, and other paranormal paramedics, she bandages soldiers who are built like Greek gods (literally.) But when one sexy immortal ends up on her operating table—half dead and totally to-die-for—Petra’s afraid she’ll lose her patient and her heart…

NOTHING IS MORE DANGEROUS THAN LOVE

Commander Galen of Delphi is one gorgeous but stubborn demi-god. When his spirit tries to slip out of his fatally wounded body, Dr. Petra has to slip it back in—unwittingly revealing her ability to see ghosts. Now that Galen knows her secret, he’s convinced she’s part of an ancient prophesy. If the oracles are right, Petra could lead Galen’s army to peace. And if he seduces her on the way to hell and back? Heaven knows—all’s fair in love and war…

Finding My Joy

By Robin "Red Hot" Kaye



A few years ago my husband and I went on a double date with my dear friend, Hope Ramsay and her husband to see my first David Wilcox concert. We sat in the front row and I was so amazed by this man’s guitar playing, I found myself paying as much attention to his hands as I did to his words and music. I left the concert thinking that David Wilcox was quite possibly the happiest man on the planet. Never before had I seen someone so thrilled to play songs he’d probably played a million times. After the show, Hope and I spoke to him and I was so touched by his words and the reverent way he talked about his music, his writing, and his life, I found myself in awe of his home-spun existentialism.

Since my first David Wilcox concert, I’ve become a huge fan. Today I was hard at work but feeling uninspired so I turned on my David Wilcox playlist and did my best to find my joy. I remember being so moved by David, during his concert, I felt as if I was meant to be there. I was desperately in need of inspiration, and spending a few hours watching a gifted performer, listening to him talk about how he writes, what he writes, and why he writes it, was exactly what I needed to feed my starving muse.

I left the concert with my head spinning—I counted four blog topics I couldn’t wait to explore. But the thing that really touched me again was the way David Wilcox played with such delight. He walked out on stage carrying a guitar and wearing a long-sleeved navy blue sweater, a pair of faded jeans, and the most joyful expression I’d ever seen—he practically glowed. Before every song he’d tune his guitar and gaze into the rafters with a look of pure exultation, I was envious. David Wilcox had exactly what I’d been searching for. I want to feel that same elation I saw in him when I work. If someone should see me writing at Starbucks, I would hope to look half as happy as David Wilcox looked every time he started playing a song—as if he was thanking God for the gift of his talent, his guitar, and every single person in the audience. I want to learn what it takes for someone who writes and performs for a living to find so much joy in what was probably just another day on the job?

I’m taking a lesson from David Wilcox and finding my joy. I love writing. I can’t think of anything I’d rather do for a living. I wonder if lately I’ve gotten so bogged down in the business end of writing, that I’ve missed the magic that happens when I’m creating. I am going to step back and rediscover why I feel the need to create characters, the world they live in, and the emotions that drive them. I want to experience the joy that comes from losing myself in a story. I want to figure out how to gather and store the drops of magic so I can swim in it every now and then. I want to look up at my ceiling fan and instead of seeing the dust gathering on the blades, be blinded by the light of inspiration. I want to be the woman at Starbucks writing on her laptop computer who makes everyone wonder what she’s doing wearing such a radiant smile. I want to walk into my office every morning eager to create a world of happily ever afters. I will do that. I’m inspired.

So please tell me, how do you find your joy?

Book Winners: Gayle and Jane have won autographed copies of Lost Girls. Thanks, everyone for reading and posting!

It's release week for my latest Intrigue, THE LOST GIRLS OF JOHNSON'S BAYOU. Here's a bit about the book:

She was only six when she walked out of the swamp after the LeBlanc School for Girls caught on fire. Sixteen years after the terrifying night that stole her memory, a child's scream lures Ginny back into the woods…where a strong arm encircles her. The gun-wielding stranger is Paul Stanton, a cop-turned-P.I., who's come to Johnson's Bayou looking for answers of his own.

Paul has spent almost two decades searching for his missing sister and now, this Southern beauty could be the key to his quest. But someone would rather see Ginny dead than have her memories resurface. And although uncovering the dark secrets of the past could put them both at risk, it's a chance Paul's willing to take if it means finding his future…with Ginny.

It follows the trend of spooky, bayou mysteries that I've loving writing. This one is a complete stand-alone so no previous reading required to jump right into the story.

I'm hard at work on the next book, and always love some good atmosphere, so yesterday, we went to see THE WOMAN IN BLACK. It was good. Not great. Not bad. Some creepy moments, but the story, as a whole, was undeveloped. It could have been much better with some plot twists. Ah well. I'm beginning to think that if I want a good horror movie, I need to write it myself.

Have you seen anything good lately?

Today, I'll be giving away two copies of LOST GIRLS to posters, so leave your comments and an email address for a chance to win!

Deadly DeLeon

Congrats to our USA Today Bestselling author!!!

Two days ago, Gemma mentioned that she hoped to "one day" make a list.

Looks like she did. And she's been there fore 4 weeks now apparently, and didn't even know it!!!!


http://books.usatoday.com/book/gemma-halliday-high-heels-mysteries-boxed-set/l32348

So please join me in wishing Trigger Happy Halliday a MAJOR congrats on being a USA Today bestselling author!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

It's very exciting, particularly since she did it as a self-published author. Sure, the books that hit are part of her backlist, so not truly self-published since she did have the backing of an editor and publisher at one point, but she didn't hit the list when she was with them. It was only once she took her career in her own hands that she did it.

YAY, Gemma!

Even Baby Alex is thrilled for you...

The Countdown For The New Sophie Novel Has Begun

My next Sophie novel, Danger, Desire & Double A Batteries will be ready for release as an ebook in a few weeks. It's my first adventure into self-publishing and I'm a little nervous about the process...but also more than a little excited. It's been a full year and a half since the last Sophie novel was released by Mira (click here for the drama filled story as to why it took so long for me to write the next one) and I'm hopeful that Sophie will continue to hold on to the support of the readers who have stood by her from the beginning as well as attract new readers who will befriend her. Below is the prologue. If you like it and want to continue to follow the story I'll be posting more pages on The Next Sophie Katz Adventure blog every Friday.

Hope you enjoy it!

Prologue 

  People who really hate you don’t usually call you up for a chat, particularly if they know their animosity is mutual.  Sure, an enemy might gossip about you behind your back or, if you’re an author like me, they’ll probably give you a one star review on Amazon (if you’re a business owner with enemies it might not hurt to check your Yelp page).  But it’s rare that someone will pull out their smartphone and waste precious calling-minutes and dwindling battery power just so they can rattle off a few tightly phrased insults.  Not if they have a Twitter account.

            So when Fawn called I knew something big was up.  There are few people who I hate more than Fawn.  For one thing she slept with my friend Mary Ann’s boyfriend, Rick.  Of course Rick is what the British would call a wanker and Mary Ann has now moved on to Monty, a better and slightly less annoying guy who has offered her love, fidelity, an engagement ring and a very generous pre-nup. So under different circumstances I would have considered Fawn’s affair with Rick something to be grateful for.

            But sadly it’s not that simple. Fawn is one of those people who goes out of their way to make others miserable.  She’s vengeful, catty, jealous, and to use Mary Ann’s words, “just ewwy.”           

She is also in jail. She and Rick got into a lovers spat which ended in an attempted murder charge.  Karma’s a bitch, but apparently not as big of a bitch as Fawn.

            Which means that this woman wasn’t just using up minutes on her cell phone plan to talk to me. She was using up the week’s worth of phone time allotted to her by the California State penitentiary system.   You didn’t do that just to be a pest.

            “Hello Sophie, did you miss me?” That’s how the conversation started, with her caressing my name with a soft and zealous malice.

As it turns out, Fawn had learned of a secret my live-in boyfriend, Anatoly, had been keeping from me.

            Anatoly is the first man I have ever truly loved. I love his hands, I love his little half smile, I love the way his Russian accent gets a little heavier after I’ve kissed him a few times.

            I love the way he argues with me when I’m feeling quarrelsome and the way he comforts me when I’m feeling lost.   I love that after six years together the passion and tenderness has only grown.

            Fawn called to tell me Anatoly had a secret or, to be more specific, she called to tell me that Anatoly had a wife.

            I knew when I heard those words that she wasn’t lying. It would be too easy to disprove. Of course the marriage had to have ended before we met, that much seemed obvious, but why hadn’t he ever told me about this?  After all, I had been divorced too so I wouldn’t have judged him. What kind of person keeps a failed marriage secret from the woman he shares a home and a bed with? A man who can’t be trusted, that’s who.  A man who is incapable of letting anyone in. Ever. 

It didn’t feel like Fawn was torturing me with her horrid little phone call. It felt like she was destroying me. 

This information was going to cost me both my relationship and the happiness I had spent so many years trying to cultivate.

            What I didn’t understand at the time was that the information also had the potential to cost me my life.

Kyra "Fashionista Fatale" Davis

Leslie Langtry - Author, Patriot - Now With Cute, New Glasses

Sgt. Jessica Barney, Moi, and Sgt. Jacqueline Kessler

I attended Sgt. Assassin's military formal dinner this weekend. And I found out that I have fans in the US Army! That's right. Leslie Langtry is serving her country...without the really hard basic training or complete lack of style in military-issue shoes.

I'm pictured here (aren't my new glasses cute? - the ones my kids didn't notice for two days until I told/screamed at them) with the lovely Sgts. Jessica and Jacqueline - both who have read all my books and loved them, naturalmente. They even insisted I have this picture taken with them. Of course, I acquiesced because I love America (and because if you praise me, you can pretty much get me to do anything...well, except for lick a spider - I'm not stupid enough to do that again).

There is something deeply satisfying in knowing I made these women laugh. And even more so because they do a tough job. Both served in Iraq with Sgt. Assassin for a year. That was a tough deployment. I'd like to think I made it a little bit more tolerable. But then, I'd also like to think I don't have a swearing problem - just a mild, slightly more offensive form of Tourette Syndrome that only happens when I'm mad at my kids, usually at Walmart.

So, here's to you, Sgt. Barney and Sgt. Kessler! And thank you for all you do!

The Assassin