Where Magic Begins: January George (Contest)

Where Magic Begins: January George (Contest)

UPDATE: The winner is…Donna Bullard!
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I always dream about writing at Starbucks. I’ve only done it once. Mostly, I write on my couch, at my kitchen table or in bed because I have two little kids and writing time is scarce, but someday I’m going back to Starbucks!

I started writing when I was in 3rd grade, I wrote a horror story that made my teacher schedule a meeting with my mom; 4th grade I wrote a murder mystery play; and by 6th grade, I had penned my piece de resistance, a 300-page+ handwritten in spiral notebooks, rip-off of Anne Rice’s Interview with the Vampire entitled, “When Dark Comes Dancing.”

Writing always just came to me. I would study people and think of how I would describe them, I loved the little flashes of inspiration that came from songs, conversations, movies. These little buds that could turn into an entire world.

My love of romance started when I spent the summer abroad with my dad. I was about thirteen, and I ran out of English books. The majority of the books in English that I found were category romances, and I was hooked. I loved the play between the characters, the angst, and of course, the happy endings.

Because of my job and family, it’s hard to find big chunks of time to write, so I write on my computer, on my phone (isn’t technology great!), and mostly at night after the kids are asleep. Here’s a peek at what I’m working on right now!

January George

 

Most of the barstools were sprouting tufts of white stuffing through slits in the red vinyl or had suspicious stains, and she focused on them, trying to find the cleanest and most intact seat.

“You want some Clorox wipes?”

She looked up at the deep voice.

“This isn’t that kind of place.” The bartender leaned on his heavily tattooed forearms, watching her with unrestrained amusement. A tattoo of an art deco style bird, it’s body across his windpipe, the wings spread out across his neck made her swallow sharply. Her eyes lifted higher, settling on his face.

Sharp, angular cheekbones highlighted prominent dark eyes, lined with paintbrush lashes so thick and dark they almost looked like smudged liner. His black hair was a little tousled, worn too long for her liking, and his jaw and cheeks were covered with a few days’ worth of stubble. He looked…dangerous, and her eyes flickered back to the bar top at the discomfort she felt.

Contest

Tell us how you discovered romance novels for a chance to win a FREE download of a Boys Behaving Badly anthology!

10 thoughts on “Where Magic Begins: January George (Contest)

  1. I was in a thrift shop with my grandmother and saw a wall of books… something drew me over there… a few covers caught my attention so I picked them up… after reading Catherine Coulter’s The Sherbrooke Bride, I was hooked!

    1. They have the best books! After I was stateside I found a second hand book store with an entire basement filled with romance and they were .25-50 cents each!

  2. My aunt worked in a grocery store and brought my mom some Harlequin books that had been thrown in the trash. It became a constant and I started reading them. Over the summers, I would probably read one a day…on a good day where I didn’t have chores, I would read two.

    1. They have the best books! After I was stateside I found a second hand book store with an entire basement filled with romance and they were .25-50 cents each!

  3. I knew romance novels existed but did not embrace them till I became a widow in 2010, that’s when I consciously sought books that would have a positive ending….I needed the uplifting light in my life.

  4. My mama was an avid reader. She would complete the chores and it was definitely her quiet time if she picked up her book. Unless you were bleeding (don’t drip on the floor, lol), don’t pester mama.
    Everyone once in awhile mama would commence giggling while reading. Curiosity piqued, I would pick up her book when she wasn’t around. Lo and behold, the parts she giggled at were the sexy times of the book. Hmm, something to this genre. Mama didn’t always approve of my reading choices. And the rest is history.

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