I will be signing her books and meeting with readers at the Glendale Chocolate Affaire in Glendale, Arizona (at Murphy Park). Stop by for a book and meet some amazing authors and male cover models! 
The dark brings romance…and death.
Loneliness has clouded Amber Addaire's life, but now she's ready for a change. After a complete makeover still leaves her unhappy, it's only when she starts dreaming of an oddly familiar - and extremely handsome - man that she begins to feel happiness.
Trace Elkson is a spirit stuck on earth long enough to let his childhood friend, Amber Addaire, know how much she meant to him before he died. He can't tell her what he is, or that he's watching over her. He can only communicate with her through her dreams and hopes she will eventually realize who he is.
In the dream realm, Amber falls in love with Trace but can she figure out who he is and join him before his spirit is forced to move on?
WARNING: A deep friendship, impending death, and a life saved.
The man of my dreams stood there, his back to me this time, giving me the opportunity to look at him for any hint of memory. His straight brown hair had recently been cut. Despite the cool temperature, he wore an old t-shirt that seemed to fit over his broad back. The jeans he wore were faded and cupped his ass as if that style of denim had been invented only for him. My stomach fluttered as he turned around, offering a large grin. Had he been waiting for me?
“I’m so glad to find you here,” I said, walking over to him.
He held his arms out and I eagerly stepped into his embrace. It had been so long since I’d experienced this warmth from another person. “I was waiting for you.”
“Can you tell me your name now?”
He shook his head and stepped back. I wanted to stay against his chest. Having him against me washed all of the negativity from my life. “Remember what I asked of you?”
“Yes. You want time.” I turned my back to him. “I never feel this sensation with anyone else.”
****
Excerpt 2:
The sun had begun to sink behind the rippling water of the lake. My favorite time of the night had arrived, along with my favorite season--fall. The cool breeze made me snuggle deeper in my coat. I sat on the large rock, watching the moon glitter over the inky water. This place had been my favorite spot. Always the place I had gone when a problem chewed at my brain, since about age seven.
I felt him approach the rock, but didn’t turn toward him. My gaze stayed fixed on the grooves over the water’s surface. Even his sliding over the rock to sit next to me didn’t steal my attention. At that moment, he didn’t matter to me.
“Amber?”
“Mm hm?” My gaze remained on the lake before me. I had the sense that I had been in this exact situation before. But I didn’t know this man. I was certain of it, even though he felt familiar in a way I couldn’t put my finger on.
“What is bothering you?” He slid his arm around my shoulders and hugged me close, and I rested my head against his shoulder without hesitation.
“How do you know something is bothering me?” Tears of frustration threatened to spill.
“I know you, Amber.” He slid his fingers through my hair. “I can tell when you’re upset about something. What is it?”
I took a deep breath and slowly exhaled. Was he someone I could trust? He must be. Being in his arms felt so right, even without knowing his name. “I’m trying to be someone I’m not.”
“I see.” He really didn’t. He couldn’t possibly understand what a fake life I lived outside of this dream. But he washed away the tension that had been bundling my nerves into tight bands.
“I don’t know what to do about it. That’s why I came here.”
“Because this is your favorite spot to think. Right?”
I pulled from the comfort of his arms. “How do you know that?”
“Because I know you, Amber Michelle Addaire.” He turned to me and clasped my hands in his. “I wish you would realize that.”
“But do I know you? What’s your name?”
His eyes. In each dream, those rich chocolate brown eyes drew me in as though I had once looked into them. Not in the dreams, either. In real life. Had I? Would he tell me this time?
“You’ll know soon enough. Sometimes rushing things ruins the situation. Time, my dear, is everything in this case. Give it all the time warranted.” He stood. “And Amber?”
“Yes?”
“Don’t worry about trying to be someone you’re not. Everyone does that once in awhile. It helps us discover who we really are.” A piece of hair fell down against his tanned forehead as it had the first time he’d joined me at the lake.
The man of my dreams disappeared then, leaving me sitting alone on the rock.
I woke up with a start. Why had he just left willingly this time? It wasn’t as if I had somewhere to go. Saturday morning had arrived, meaning I could sleep in all day. And be with him in my dreams. But nope. He had to disappear, leaving me to wake up in the dreary bedroom, dreading the day ahead.
There really wasn’t any reason to dread the day, either. Things weren’t so bad in my life. Many people in the world had it a lot worse than me, so why couldn’t I see it like that? I tried, damn it, but couldn’t.
***
I don't know about you, but I can't wait for this novella to be released (1-23-12)!!
Talk to you soon,
Wendy Ely
What made you decide to write in this genre?
It was never so much a decision as it was a natural draw. I find it impossible not to write about relationships, with all the good and the bad, and for the most part relationships concern sex in some capacity. I choose to be graphic with all the sexy details because I’m being graphic about everything else everyone is feeling or doing. It wouldn’t feel right for me to skimp there. Plus, it’s hot and fun!
Which character did you like writing the most? Why? Which character was the hardest?
Finale’s protagonist, Olivia Gray, was the most fun to write. I loved the opportunity to be so sarcastic and describe the world in such a dry, ridiculous, over-the-top way. Her growth was also really satisfying to chart, as was the decline of her secret paramour, the musician Jonathan Levant. Their relationship and dialogue felt very natural and easy to write. The children were definitely most difficult to write, as I don’t currently have kids of my own. Hopefully I succeeded in lending them a semblance of realism!
Are you a plotter or a pantser? Tell us a little about your writing process.
I definitely start out with a synopsis to get me going, but I don’t write in any specific order. Actually, I write in no order at all; I’ll start in the middle and sometimes write the end before the beginning. I just go with whatever idea is most vivid in my head—that ensures that at least something gets done!
Where did you get the idea for this book?
The inspiration for Finale may strike some readers as obvious, but it goes beyond the bare-bones concept of a music legend dying under sudden circumstances and leaving his three children behind. This isn’t the music legend’s story. I wanted to explore the idea of what the aftermath of his death would be like for all the parties involved, and I wanted to intersperse the story with a complicated love story providing evidence behind the decision to leave the children under the guardianship of a person who never thought of anyone but herself.
Did it require a lot of research? What was your favorite part of research?
My friend cracked me up recently; I was telling him how on some occasions, I try to be an unobservant as possible, and he was like, “You try to be unobservant? How are you a writer, man? ...Maybe that’s why you’re prolific; you’re just making shit up!” Generally, that’s what I do; I definitely just wing it if I have no idea what I’m talking about, and for the most part, I have little experience with some major themes of the story, such as fame and parenting. But the story did have to be grounded in realism, so whenever I would reach a point where I needed a fact or some realistic inspiration (i.e., when the Grammies took place, what kind of car was popular in 1985), I’d just type “XXXX” and go back later to fill those spots in.
Is there anything you'd like to share with readers?
In the near future, look for some happy endings – but know they won’t come easy!
# # #
Purchase link for Finale: http://www.whiskeycreekpress.com/torrid/index.php?main_page=product_info&cPath=2&products_id=601&zenid=6682f72a0e56c6d5ef87b6d88e427d51
Purchase link for Coercion: http://www.lyricalpress.com/store/index.php?main_page=product_info&cPath=2_12&products_id=315
I love tv. My kids love tv. If you come into our apartment at most any time during the day or evening, our tv will be on. The television serves as background noise for me and I can actually concentrate better with the extra sound. I watch it when I write, read, do school work, and housework. When I get up in the a.m I have to watch (or listen to) the news while I drink my coffee or my morning doesn't feel complete. 
The dark brings romance…and death.
Loneliness has clouded Amber Addaire's life, but now she's ready for a change. After a complete makeover still leaves her unhappy, it's only when she starts dreaming of an oddly familiar - and extremely handsome - man that she begins to feel happiness.
Trace Elkson is a spirit stuck on earth long enough to let his childhood friend, Amber Addaire, know how much she meant to him before he died. He can't tell her what he is, or that he's watching over her. He can only communicate with her through her dreams and hopes she will eventually realize who he is.
In the dream realm, Amber falls in love with Trace but can she figure out who he is and join him before his spirit is forced to move on?
WARNING: A deep friendship, impending death, and a life saved.
This is one of my favorite current releases so I thought I would share it with you since it has been awhile! Jordan sat down on the couch and patted the floor in front of him. “Sit down. Let me get those knots out.”
She took a few steps in his direction, stopping out of his reach, afraid to let him touch her. If he touched her, then she’d fall madly in love with him all over again. That couldn’t happen.
She watched as he leaned forward far enough to grab her by the hand. He pulled her to him.
“Are you sure you want to?”
“Yes,” he said. He guided her down to the floor between his legs. Before leaning back, she slipped her t-shirt off, revealing the navy tank top. His strong hands slid over her skin and she sunk back against him. She’d forgotten how strong he was, how needy she felt when he touched her. As if by magic, her body slowly began to relax underneath his touch. He kneaded her skin with the palms of his hands. The more he touched her, the more she felt at ease. She leaned forward a bit, making his legs embrace the rest of her body. His hands trailed down the length of her back toward the top of her jeans. A small moan escaped her lips. If only he would go lower.
“Feel good?” The words floated through the air like music from a past dream.
“Mm hm.”
He rubbed the small of her back, his hands working every muscle imaginable. “Remember when I would rub your feet each night after work?”
“The best part of the whole day.” His hands. His voice. He had cast a spell over her.
“I loved those times with you, Chels.”
Butterflies swarmed in her stomach, breaking up her intoxicated sensation. Chels? He used to call her that when they were teenagers. He was the only person who’d ever had a pet name for her.
“Me, too,” she mumbled.
“That’s what has gotten me through until now. Those memories of us from before you disappeared.” His hands stilled, but she could feel their heat against her.
Damn it! Tears welled in her eyes. He couldn’t see them, she wouldn’t allow him to. She scooted away him his touch, far enough away so she could stand up on her own without using his assistance.
“I’m sorry, Jordan. We shouldn’t be doing this.”
“What are you talking about, Chelsea?” He tried to grab her by the hand again but this time she walked away from him. She went over to the windows, dried her eyes and then turned around.
“I told you everything, so now I should go.” She walked past him toward the stairs.
“No, you won’t.” The words were ice cold. It seemed like his massage had been some sort of dream.
She froze. “What do you mean, I won’t?”
“Let’s get something clear. Okay?”
She slowly turned around. She had never heard this tone from Jordan in the whole time she had known him. It scared her.
“What?”
He stood up from the couch and walked over to her. His hands jammed into his jean pockets. “There’s a choice to be made here,” he said. “You either stay here to help me locate my daughter or I contact the authorities.”
www.lyricalpress.com/confessions
I revisited my current releases and thought I would share. I hope you enjoy the excerpt of Jesse's Brother!Noah stabbed the pitchfork into the hay, trying to get a head start on tomorrow's chores and Samantha out of his thoughts.
He always returned to his trailer once the sun went down. He'd had the same routine every night for the last year: work until dark, then home for dinner and a shower. Blue and a good book made great company as far as he was concerned.
Martin didn't care when Noah ended work for the day as long as he met the day's goals and took care of the animals. Any night of the week, he could have hung around town meeting new people and scored a date or two. There was even talk about a few of the local women being interested in him. He, for sure, noticed the attention, sometimes even heard the whispers amongst the women as he walked by. Most men liked having their egos stroked, but it actually did the opposite for him. As a result, he stayed away from town as much as possible. It gave him an incentive to follow the same routine he'd stuck to for the past three hundred sixty-five nights.
Not tonight, however. Tonight he had met Samantha Johns, and needed to work off the impact she had made on him.
When he'd just finished feeding the animals earlier, he'd spotted her sitting up against the fence. Her tears had done him in when she raised her pretty blonde head to reveal the sadness in her beautiful blue eyes. She'd tried to push the tears away before he spotted them but it had been too late. Her tear-streaked face had been a spear to his heart. He wasn't sure why, but he had to help rid her of the pain she'd carried around.
After walking out of his family's life, he'd avoided relationships of any kind. He'd loosened up a bit, working on the ranch. Martin had become a role model to him, but Noah didn't want to care about anyone else. Not even Samantha. Now he knew her story and wanted to be in her life. It was terrible to be totally alone and Samantha didn't deserve to be.
"Damn it!" He threw a bale of hay onto the barn floor. "Why did she have to come here?"
Frances, Samantha's mother, had shown up in the barn a few days before to give him a subtle warning to stay away from her daughter. He didn't pay any mind to the idea of Samantha being around the farm and hadn't even asked any questions about her. He'd shrugged and turned back to his work. He was surprised she hadn't been more like queen bee Frances, ready to sting anyone within arm's length. Even though he'd heard stories about her childhood from Martin, he'd never once fathomed the idea that Samantha Johns would indeed be beautiful with those freckled cheeks and dimples. And the added bonus? She was equally sweet.
Samantha's presence could become a complication in his well maintained life. He didn't need any extra hurdles. Lord knew he'd had enough of those along the way. Getting involved with someone was complicated enough, but with the boss's daughter? Probably not a good idea. The fact that Frances hated the very air he breathed made the situation worse.
"I never take the easy road," he grumbled as he wiped the sweat trickling down his cheek. What was Samantha doing now? His eyes switched over to the door. It would be nice if she'd come down to the barn.
www.lyricalpress.com/jesses_brother
Hi. I haven't actually been asked where I have been, but I am sure people have been wondering. Writing used to be a giant part of my life. After I decided to take writing seriously, I started promoting myself as an author which meant my name was everywhere. Not so much anymore. I haven't even been posting on Facebook, talking to my author friends, or blogging lately. 
www.luxzakari.com