Title? Title? I don't need no stinking title!

How do you choose what title to use on your finished manuscript?  Does it suggest itself to you during the course of your writing/rewriting/editing?  Or do you sit and look at it, trying to think of a pithy selection of just a few words that will encapsulate your book neatly and entice readers to try it?

For most of my published books, the 6 Reyes Romances, and my 2 stand-alone contemporary romances, I chose the titles myself.  But for my 2 romantic suspense novels, I had to turn to my family.  Keep in mind that none of my in-their-early-twenties kids read romance novels except for occasionally checking out one of mine.  So they don't have any idea what the popular titles are any more than my husband, who also reads lots of other books, but only romances written by me.  So when I ask them, they listen to my short explanation of who the main characters are and the story arc, then they fire suggestions at me. 

Since they refer to what I write as "Mom's porn", though I prefer "smut", they often suggest titles that sound much more erotic than what I write!  I write romance novels with a bit of naughtiness.  I've read enough erotic romance and erotica to know that's not what I write! So I reject the titles that sound like a porn movie, lest I disappoint a randy reader.  Then I consider their other choices. 

This worked wonderfully, I thought, when I wrote Secret Love, about a female spy who breaks the rules by falling in love while on active duty.  Then I went onto Amazon, excited to see my new book there, and when I typed in the title in the search line, I found 4 other books by different authors, with the same title!  Surely this was an anomaly, I thought. 

Then I needed a title for my second spy novel, about a retired female spy who is drawn back into the world she thought she had left for good.   2 male spies are assigned to guard her 24/7 from the psycho-killer she thought she had put away forever when her testimony put him in jail. She falls in love with one of them, but they both pursue her.  I kept thinking of titles with the word "spy" in them, but my oldest son suggested Undercover Lovers.   I thought it was an excellent title!  But apparently so did 9 other authors, 8 of whom used the singular lover...but all of their titles pop up when you search Amazon for Undercover Lovers.  Heavy sigh.

That same oldest son just tried to explain to me about how savvy techies are able to game the search engines, and tag their items with zillions of words to ensure that no matter what you are looking for, their products will appear.  I just got off of work and that sounded too complicated for me to grasp!  Oh well...

My next book will be published November 1, and it's about the Mayan prophesy involving the end of the calendar in 2012.  It also has vampires and a 5,000 year old Mayan vampire mummy.  And a conspiracy to dull the intelligence of the human population for nefarious purposes.  I agonized over this title also, and even called it unnamed Mayan romance in my files.  But when I was offered a contract, they needed to have a title to put on it.  My quandary had to end quickly!  I chose  Prophesy of the Undead.  Ah, great!  Nothing pops up with that title on Amazon!  I guess I'm going to have to check there from now on before I choose my titles for my next books. 

How much do you feel a title grabs your attention or causes you to want to read a book?  Or are you more interested in the cover?  I think I've been extremely lucky with the cover artists I've been assigned.  I just wish there was such a thing as a title artist!  Don't you? 

Please visit www.fionamcgier.com and feel free to comment on the creativity (or lack thereof) involving my titles.  Hey, I truly enjoy writing the best books I can...everything else is much harder!

I don't spend much time watching TV unless my husband has rented a movie for our pizza night, or he pops in a tape of one of our favorite sci-fi shows, like Dr. Who, Torchwood, or that old vampire series from Canada, Forever Knight. But I know that lots of people enjoy watching the dancers on Dancing With the Stars. I do Jazzercise, and one of the professional dancers is a spokesperson for my favorite exercise class.

But I do enjoy doing the dancing, particularly the cha-cha and other Latin dances. I have taken a belly-dancing lesson or two, and did some research into it as an art form when I was writing my most recent book, Undercover Lovers. The heroine, Ameena, is of Arabic descent. She was a top spy but left the agency after she helped capture a serial killer. Unfortunately the plan had snags and he was able to torture her first, so she lost her taste for excitement and adventure and became a choreographer for music videos.

In this excerpt, she is trying to get the dancers to understand how to do the moves she has designed for them, and she reluctantly decides that showing them is the only way to teach them.

Ameena was so exasperated she strode impatiently into the center of the dancing area. She turned slowly in a circle, trying to talk to all of the dancers at once.

“Haven't any of you ever learned how to belly dance? You all know how to jump around and shimmy, but you don't know how to move your hips to this kind of music? It's a world-music kind of beat...it has Arabic influences and some salsa and meringue overtones. You can't just hop around like you're doing jumping jacks in gym class! You do know how and why belly dancing was invented as an art form, right?”

As she looked around, she realized that no one seemed to know what she was talking about. She let out a heavy sigh.

“Don't they teach you anything about dances from other cultures anymore? Belly dancing was invented way before the people of the western world had gotten around to becoming civilized. Harem girls had to find some way to convince their master that he was still capable of performing as a man, long after he was too old to do so. They'd dance around, simulating the motions of sex, then climb on top of his chubby aging body, and by their movements convince him and the eunuchs who were watching that he was having sex with them.”

Ameena looked around at the assembled listeners, meeting the eyes of many of them in turn.

“Now do you understand? You're having sex with an imaginary lover onstage, with everyone watching you. If you weren't an exhibitionist you wouldn't be a dancer. Now watch me while I show you what the hell I've been trying to explain to you!”

She shaded her eyes to look up at the sound crew sitting beyond the lights.

“George? Start the music from where it changes to that heavy rolling rhythm.”

She turned to the dancers as the music started to blare from the speakers.

“Now watch what I do, and remember that this is supposed to be a seduction song. Think hot sex. Think horizontal moves...”

With that she thrust her hands over her head and began to wiggle her hips. She moved them from side-to-side, then back and forth, then in a circle. As she moved her lower torso, she walked slowly, each footstep emphasized by the corresponding hip thrust that made it appear that even her bones were flexible. The music continued to inspire her, as she closed her eyes and seemed to be lost in it, her entire body in fluid motion.

No one could look away. No one even noticed that three men had entered the room. They strode purposefully in then stopped, as the woman dancing in the center of the soundstage captivated their attention as completely as she had everyone else's.

Ameena really was lost in the music, and for a time it was the only thing that existed for her. She was using the moves she'd learned as a young girl, enhanced by years of experience seducing men all over the world. She was doing the sequences she'd been trying to teach the dancers, but also embellishing it as she went along. With a flourish, she ended up collapsing on the floor as the music ended abruptly. There was silence for a moment. As she began to pick herself up off of the floor the room exploded in applause.

She smiled as she looked around the room.

Interested in reading more?

www.fionamcgier.com

Now for something completely different: a contest!

Since I've been working so much lately, I haven't had much time to work on my current books, or think up ideas for my blogs. So instead this month I'm offering 2 autographed copies of my spy novel, Secret Love. I'm interested in knowing if readers prefer eBooks or paperbacks and why.
Just leave me a comment below with your reply, and I'll pick the winners on Sunday, my only day off from both of my jobs! (Husband and I are going to continue our Valentine's Day week of celebrating by seeing one of our favorite blues bands, Howard and the White Boys, at a local "Booze, Blues and Barbecues" joint on Saturday night after I get off of work. I plan to sleep extra late on Sunday!)

And here's an excerpt to whet your appetite!
Scene: Sheena is forbidden by the unofficial terms of her contract with the agency she works for from becoming involved with anyone while she is on active duty. Technically she is on vacation for a few days, so not "on" active duty. She seduces the hottest man she has ever seen, recognizing him from the action movies he has starred in for years. But she knows she will have to leave him abruptly once she gets the summons back onto an active case.

Hours went by, then days, unnoticed by them both as they learned the intimate secrets of each other’s bodies. They took breaks to get new drinks, to prepare and eat food, to take quick naps. They took long soaks in the Jacuzzi before returning to the bed to once again seek pleasure in each other. They had sex in the kitchen, in the bathroom, on the comfortable cushions of the sunken living room furniture, and repeatedly in the bedroom.

And somewhere along the line, Sheena realized she was developing real feelings for this man. Once that thought presented itself to her, she ran to hide in the bathroom, terrified of what it might mean. She took some time in there, trying to slow her racing heartbeat. She knew that having a real relationship was forbidden while she was still under contract. That had never bothered her before.

Now as she stared at her reflection in the mirror, she saw the marks of their passion all over her nude body: bruises on her neck and breasts were reminders of the love bites he’d given her while he was in the throes of his own orgasms—she’d never felt any pain, just pleasure from feeling him come inside of her. There were imprints of his fingers on her hips where he’d held her tightly, pulling her so close to him that their bodies had felt fused into one. Her eyes were glassy from lack of sleep; her lips were puffy from being roughly kissed and bitten. One night they’d shaved each other’s pubic hair to see how that would affect their pleasure. She shook her head, marveling at how many unique ways they’d found to give each other mind-blowing pleasure. And yet she’d always known in the back of her mind that this wouldn’t last…it couldn’t.

So why do I suddenly feel panic, combined with a sense of impending loss?

When she got back out of the bathroom Cory was lounging on the cushions in the living room, a cup of coffee in his hand and a fresh pot of coffee on the table in front of him, along with some pastries she’d ordered sent up earlier… Or was it yesterday? She couldn’t remember, and that was another new source of anxiety for her.

What day is it?

She looked closely at him and saw that his body also bore the signs of their passionate lovemaking. There were marks on his shoulders where she’d bitten him while her orgasms made her gnash her teeth. His eyelids drooped lazily, as if he was a man almost totally satisfied, while his face had a beard growth of… How many days?

Trying not to be distracted by his nudity and his extreme good looks, she walked slowly over to sit facing him, on the same cushion but sideways, her feet the only thing close enough for him to touch.

“What’s wrong, darlin’?” he drawled lazily.

The fact that he was so attuned to her emotions only emphasized to her the danger she’d put them both into.
***************
Comment below for a chance to win an autographed copy of Secret Love!
And to read about all of my books, visit me at: www.fionamcgier.com

Why are the Blues white?

There is a blues event this Saturday at the local junior college that I won't be able to attend because I'll be at work. But husband and I did go to a festival last weekend and had an excellent time, hearing 2 local blues bands jamming. Looking around it was the same crowd that always seems to be at blues venues: older white people, some younger white people, and just a smattering of people with black or brown skins. The sole exception is Asian people, especially if they are only here visiting the U.S. They never seem to be able to get enough of the great American music style known as the blues.

Why have the blues fallen on hard times? My father crossed the pond from Scotland to move here to the Chicago area in the 40s, to be able to hear his favorite musicians play live music. He told me he used to sit in the many bars on the south side and be the only white boy in the place, but the musicians appreciated that he sat quietly and just soaked up their music. Back then all blues musicians were black...the race that had invented the music was the only one to play it, and their listeners were usually black as well. The Harlem Renaissance was the era of jazz and blues fusion, and white composers like Gershwin incorporated the blues into their music, but were looked down upon by both white people who didn't listen to "that kind of music", and black people who questioned whether a "white boy could do the blues". As if feeling the pain of living is limited by the color of your skin!

During the 70s, many white rock bands recorded blues songs, making them palatable to their white fans, many of whom then sought out the originals of songs covered by bands like the Rolling Stones, Led Zeppelin, etc. Jimi Hendrix made screaming electric guitars his trademark, and pointed the way for many axe-men of today, like Kenny Wayne Shepard...young musicians who are usually white. As the older players die off, Buddy Guy keeps on making excellent music and touring, but even he admits that blues clubs all over the country are hurting from a lack of business. Most blues bands have to tour Europe or Japan in order to make any real money.

Why is this? Personally when Buddy or Kenny gets to shredding a guitar, I'm in nirvana! How about you?
*****
Oh, and I have a new book to talk about!
If you read my spy novel Secret Love, you will be interested in the sequel, Undercover Lovers. In this book, Ameena is haunted by memories of the torture she endured years ago at the hands of a serial killer that she helped to put behind bars forever. Or so she was led to believe. Now he has escaped, and her former life as a spy invades her current life as a choreographer for music videos when her ex-handler introduces her to the two men who will split the duty of guarding her 24/7 until the Executioner makes his move. Now her life has more excitement than she can handle, as two hot spies take turns guarding and pursuing her body! Which one will she choose? And will she live long enough to make a choice?
Sheena and Cory from Secret Love make an appearance, as does the handler, Malcolm. And for this book I wrote my first-ever menage scene, which was hard to do while staying true to the character of the hero.



Buy link:
http://www.whiskeycreekpress.com/torrid/index.php?main_page=product_info&cPath=8&products_id=608&zenid=db43fcd260d6ec9252529b60d34efb7a

Just Got my First Ever EReader!!!

I just got my first-ever e-reader!I'm so excited! What you have to understand is that I don't embrace new technology easily. I'm never the first one on the block to get something. In fact, my kids learned the meaning of the word Luddite when I used to describe myself as one. Briefly, the Luddites were the ones during the Industrial Revolution in the 1800s, who thought that machines were from the devil, since they were going to take away the jobs from honest working folks. So they expressed their inherent distrust of all things mechanical by smashing machinery in the factories.

I've never been one to smash anything I didn't like, but I've never been one to seek it out either. Back when the first video gaming systems came out, the Pac-man things that attached to your TV, I asked what was wrong with the old pinball machines, like the ones my Uncle Joe had in his basement because he was an executive with Bally in Chicago. I never even liked 8-track tapes, but was astounded when their demise was caused by the popularity of cassette tapes, which were too newfangled for me. Then just when I was getting used to them, CDs exploded onto the scene. Suddenly all of my tapes that I had learned to fix using a pencil when they went "wonky", were muddy-sounding and needed to be replaced with yet a third copy of the same album! I liked my Led Zeppelin LP records, I was okay with the tapes my brother made for me so I could play them in my car...but then my husband gave me CDs, and told me we were getting rid of the other formats! WTF?!?

I resisted getting a cell phone until my oldest son, who has had type 2 diabetes since he was 8, moved from the elementary school across the street from our house to the middle school. And he told me in no uncertain terms I was not allowed to come into the school every day to check his blood sugar at lunchtime. I got a cell phone so that if he had a low blood sugar incident there I could arrive before the paramedics to treat him myself. When that phone died, husband had a hard time finding me another one that was as easy to use. What the salesman didn't understand was that to me a phone is for getting and making phone calls. If I want to go on-line, check my e-mails, or make purchases from on-line retailers, I'll use my computer back home. The only reason I don't have a stripped down "old-person" Jitterbug is that they don't do texting. And my youngest is a teen-aged girl who sends and receives thousands, nay, tens of thousands of texts each month! It took her 3 months to teach me how to do it. I used to beg random teens in stores or the schools I sub at to show me how to do something when my daughter wasn't there.
Noticing I was getting frustrated with my newer phone, my oldest son asked me what was wrong. I told him I was trying to put people's names into my phone list but I didn't know how to get to the second letter on the number. He rolled his eyes and told me to hit the number quickly twice. I asked him if he had read that in a manual. "There's a manual?" I don't fondle the buttons on my new washing machine until it becomes a part of me. I read the manual, look at the buttons to know which ones to push, and I'm done. I guess my style of learning isn't intuitive enough these days.

When the kids decided I needed an I-Pod, I told them "no" When all 4 of my kids and my husband had one, they insisted on buying me one for my last year's Christmas and birthday present (I'm a December 26th baby). I was afraid to take it out of the box for 2 weeks because the touch-screen scared me. Finally one of my sons loaded his music into it and told me to listen to it. I did. Now I don't go anywhere without it! I even have an adapter to listen to it through my car-radio.

So this year when they asked me what I wanted for my gifts, I told them to give me a gift card so I could get myself an e-reader. There was a hushed, shocked silence for a moment, as it registered on them that Mom was asking for new technology. But they know I've been e-published for 2 years, so they figured I had worked myself up to it gradually. I dragged a girlfriend with me. We both bought Kindles. Because of my 2 jobs I didn't even get to take mine out of the box to play with it for 4 days. But now it's out, charged up, and has a book on it that I had wanted months ago, but promised myself that it would be the first thing I'd ever read on a reader, when I finally got one. I didn't order from Amazon because the book was published by a small indy. But it was funny and engaging and hot...and a quick read. I didn't download any programs to help me convert it because that was so confusing when I went to the various websites to see what I needed to do, that I almost gave up entirely and took it back! But the Mobi version I sent in an email to my Kindle is readable as it is. I love it!

I still only use my phone for calls and texts...I don't understand why I would need to use it for anything else. I still have an alarm clock and I wear a watch. But I listen to music on my I-Pod. And now I can read on my e-reader. Who says you can't teach an old dog new tricks?

*And speaking of new tricks, what happens if you are a female spy who plays by the rules the male agents all wrote and live by: no emotions allowed...then you fall in love? How do you protect the civilian from the dangers you face every day? Or can you? Find out in Secret Love, my latest erotic suspense book published by Whiskey Creek Press/Torrid.
Set-up: Sheena spent her some time in-between assignments last year in Berlin; as usual, she chose an attractive man to amuse herself with. But something went wrong when she began to have real feelings for him. When she had to leave him without an explanation to go back to her job, it hurt her as much as she knew it would hurt him. Now on an assignment in the USA, she walks into a party in Hollywood along with the terrorist group she has been embedded into, and is horrified to see the internationally-famous actor she fell in love with playing guitar with the band up on the stage. And he is staring directly at her! She runs upstairs to a bathroom.

The irony of having fallen for a man she could never have again washed over her with a vengeance, and she felt too stunned to even move. Having emotions of any kind was a liability in her world. Being too paralyzed with feelings to take any action was grounds for immediate termination…and not just from the job. Agents had been found dead after such disobedience made them careless. Lacing her fingers together, Sheena took deep, cleansing breaths and tried to get her racing pulse back under control.
She jumped at the sound of someone pounding on the bathroom door.
"It's occupied!" she shouted, hoping to get them to go away.
After a short pause, the pounding started again.
"Go away! Find another bathroom!" she yelled, starting to channel her emotional upheaval into the safety of controlled anger that instantly made her feel calmer and more in charge of herself.
The pounding only got more insistent. Anger is good. She stomped over to the door to fling it open.
"What the fuck is your problem?"
"You are," Hickory Woods said, as he pushed her back into the bathroom and locked the door behind him.
"What are you doing up here?"
She hated the panic suddenly threatening to overwhelm her as she felt his raw anger wash over her in waves.
"Why aren't you still on the stage? With the band?"
"Why the hell are you with him?" he yelled at her. "I thought you said you couldn't be seen in public with celebrities like me. So in you stroll with him, the current flavor of the month, and I had to watch him groping you?"
He loomed dangerously over her as she backed away from him to find herself trapped by the wall-to-wall counter of the sink behind her.
"That's none of your business," she replied weakly, aware of how vulnerable her voice sounded, but not able to get it under control yet.
"Just like your leaving me in Berlin was none of my business?"
His face was dark and his voice dripped with scorn and anger.
"You never told me what your business is. At this point, I'm guessing high-class hooker. Was I a freebie, or are you just behind in your billing?"
"Cory, just let me leave and forget about me, okay?"
She tried not to sound like she was pleading. She'd spent years perfecting how to order men around, but right at this moment, she would have begged if it would get her away from this man she still wanted so much, but had hurt so badly.
His eyes were wild as he pushed forward with his hips to trap her between the sink counter and the unmistakable bulge in his pants.
"I can't forget about you, damn it! That's the problem! You're in my blood! I want you so bad I can taste it!"

In honor of my new status as an e-reader owner, I'm going to offer one free eBook to a lucky reader! Just leave a comment below, and I'll collect your names until Sunday, February 6, then let my daughter choose the names out of a hat. Be the first to read about the spy who fell in love and the sexy actor she who caught her. Good luck!