Rachel Lee's Blog

I'm sorry I haven't kept up to date. We had a houseful of company for nearly two months, my computer died, and waiting for the warranty replacement seemed to take forever.
THE MAN FROM NOWHERE is available now, in stores, and if you can't find it there, I'm sure you can get it on Amazon or at Harlequin. I hope you love the story of a man who comes to Conard County on a mission, driven by demons, to save the life of a woman he doesn't even know.
My dad passed away two days ago, not unexpected, but sad all the same. Unfortunately, the very next morning, and very unexpectedly, our dog

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I'm not prepared. Of course. Haven't even started shopping yet, although it's going to be a very slim Christmas. At least all my kids are old enough now to understand. Old enough now to take delight in the fact that we will all be together. :)

I'm signing a new three-book contract for Conard County this month, and Silhouette is thinking about trying to get out three new CC books each year. I rather like that idea, because I know myself that when I like a series I don't like to wait too long for the next volume.

Some time in late January THE MAN FROM NOWHERE will hit the shelves. I

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Sorry it's been so long since last I posted. There's a shortage of news, and Murphy's Law has been running my life.

If it's not one thing, it's another. First the air conditioning--while it was still too hot to work without it -- then the water heater, and now the water softener. I'm looking cross-eyed at my stove, too, because it managed to burn a pizza last week, and the timer on it has given up the ghost. No, I don't think I'm ready for that.

The second Nocturne is moving finally. Had to throw out a hundred pages because something wasn't right, and I couldn't figure out what.

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I finished my first Nocturne and had so much fun with it that I'm really looking forward to writing the next one.

I have started a proposal for a new Conard County book, tentatively titled THE FINAL MISSION. A female NCIS investigator comes to Conard County to tell a rancher that his medic wife was not killed in a hostile ambush in Iraq as he was told. His wife had also been working as an informant for NCIS, and the agent believes she was murdered. Emotions will run high in this one.

I will have two books coming out in February. The first and most important will be THE MAN FROM

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The dog I wrote about in my last blog was rescued by animal control. :)

As soon as I could find several hours (because I knew it wouldn't happen fast) I went back out there with treats, hoping to entice him close enough to get a looped leash around his neck. I couldn't keep him, but I could get him to a rescue society.

Except he was gone. I looked everywhere, waited for a while then went home. A call to animal control told me that they had managed to catch him. How? This time they went out with tasty treats and didn't let him see the catch pole until he was eating.

I am so

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I don't know who you are, and I don't know much about you. But I do know something very important:

Your faithful, loyal friend is waiting for you right beside the road where you left him. He's not looking very good right now. His ribs are sticking out enough that you can see them at 45 mph as you pass. It's obvious he hasn't eaten in a long time, and just as obvious that he hasn't been brushed in months.

He stands there right on the shoulder, panting in the Florida heat, watching every car that approaches. He's looking for you.

Other people stop and try to help. But he darts

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I hate this. I spent nearly the first 50+ years of my life with unassailable good health. No longer. I've reached a stage of existence where I actually can discuss the pros and cons of a variety of antibiotics with my doctor.

"Oh that one makes me cranky."

"That one gives me heart palpitations."

"That one keeps me from sleeping."

I have a friend who needs a platelet donation right now, and I can't give because I'm taking antibiotics. What's with this?

Which is not to say I never got ill in the past. No, I had some major crises, like polio when I was a toddler, and I lost

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I'm going to be signing a contract soon to write a couple of books for Nocturne. Yes, they're vampire romances, but I want to assure you that you'll find the same community feel that you like in Conard County.

My vampire has a problem with being a vampire, so he fights on the side of good. And he has a couple of wacky assistants, plus a romantic interest who is driving him nuts.

It's moody, but funny, and I promise some surprises. Mostly they'll give me a change of pace between CC books so I don't go stale on you.

CC will continue. There are four books still in the pipeline, the

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Seriously.

Some days almost anything, including a root canal, seems preferable to writing. Those are the days when the words slip away like eels, when the ideas hover just out of reach. You can sense them there, you can almost hear them buzzing like an annoying mosquito, but when you look...they're gone.

On days like today, I wish I'd picked another profession. I wish I'd stayed in computer programming. I hate being my own boss, and my own disciplinarian. I hate the story I'm writing because it has a stubbornness of its own I can't reason with.

And yet as everyone who writes

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I've got four children. One is a journalist (she just had major surgery), one works in computers and helped build this site, another is in college, and one is a senior in high school.

I like to say they keep me young. Heh. Actually, the younger ones remind me what a dinosaur I am. For example, I refuse to give in to the texting craze, and get mildly irritated when the youngest is conversing with me at the same time she is tapping messages on her phone.

Worse, it has lately occurred to me that if I want to get through to that child on her phone, I may need to take up texting myself.

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